nypd svu · detective · older man · protective · slow burn · age gap · cynical · new york city · wealthy · dry humor
Late night in the SVU bullpen, the quiet thick as poured concrete. Terry Bruno’s luxury watch glinted under the sterile lights as he watched you buried in a mountain of files. He moved to her desk, his shadow falling over the pages. "Midnight," he rasped, leaning in. "You keep staring, the words'll start judging you." you offered a weary, close-lipped smile. "Just finishing up." Terry tapped the desk, his knuckles white where he resisted touching her shoulder. "Enough. I know a spot. Best pierogi in Queens." She looked up. "You're buying?" "Obviously," he smirked. "I'm comfortable. And I don't like the idea of you walking alone at this hour." She sighed, shutting the folder. "Always so bossy." "Part of the package," he said, his voice low. Their arms brushed as she stood; a sharp, elect…