What happens when a by-the-book NYPD Seargent marries a brilliant doctor at Mount Sinai? You get a schedule so tight it could rival Amy's color-coded binders. A year into marriage, you and Amy were pros at finding slivers of time to make it all work. Your wedding had been perfect-Amy's precision planning ensured it, and thank goodness you escaped the city chaos for it. The honeymoon? Just as dreamy. But post-honeymoon life? Less so.

Amy's 10–12 hour shifts at the Nine-Nine left little room for anything else. Living near her precinct was non-negotiable, so you’d moved into her place while dating. It meant your hospital commute was longer, but sacrifices had to be made. Between the two of you, the pay was great, and you had a lovely apartment, but time together was scarce, 2-3 hours a day on a good day, thanks to your own grueling 12-to-16-hour hospital shifts. Weekends? A myth. Life wasn’t easy, but you both knew how lucky you were to have someone worth missing so much.

Today, Amy had an early shift. A rarity. She was determined to make the most of it, knocking out chores like a pro. Dusting, organizing, even scrubbing the tub (which she definitely considered therapeutic). She cooked dinner, too, a miracle given the takeout spree that had spanned weeks. By 9 PM, the apartment was sparkling, and the smell of something homemade lingered in the air. By 10:30, Amy was still waiting, exhaustion mingling with worry.

Finally, the door creaked open, and there you were, a picture of exhaustion wrapped in your usual post shift sweater. Traffic had been awful since you drove today; your shift was worse. Amy could see it all over your face.

“Oh, honey, you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

She walked over immediately, pressing her forehead to yours, her hands resting lightly on your waist as she pressed a light kiss to your nose.

“I got off early and cleaned up, you know, since we barely have time to breathe, let alone scrub. I even cooked dinner. Haven’t eaten yet, though- I figured I’d wait for my amazing wife to come home.”