Page 42 of Taken from Her (Phoenix Ridge Police Department #4)
Diana looked at Lavender, some silent communication passing between them. "It's motivating. We've proven something important about how personal and professional can enrich and nurture each other instead of competing."
"And we want to keep building on it," Lavender added. "Together."
The word carried weight beyond professional partnership, and everyone in the room understood the implication. Diana and Lavender weren't just collaborating on community policing; they were building a life together that served their individual purposes and their shared commitment to Phoenix Ridge.
"Well then," Georgia said with satisfaction, "I believe congratulations are in order. For successful rescue operations, effective community collaboration, and the wisdom to recognize that love and service build on each other."
Julia raised her coffee cup in an impromptu toast. "To partnerships that make everyone stronger."
"To community leaders who trust each other enough to build something new," Michelle added.
"To the future of Phoenix Ridge," Morgan contributed.
"And to love that serves something larger than itself," Sam said.
As everyone echoed the toast, Lavender felt community acceptance settle around their relationship like a warm embrace. Not just tolerance for their personal connection, but celebration of what they'd created together and excitement about what they might build next.
After their visitors left, Diana and Lavender sat in comfortable silence, processing the evening's validation.
"How does it feel?" Lavender asked eventually.
"Like coming home," Diana replied. "Like everything I've worked for finally makes sense because it's connected to everything you've worked for."
"We don't have to choose between loving each other and serving our communities."
"Because doing both makes us better at everything." Diana leaned over to kiss Lavender's forehead. "Ready to go home tomorrow and start building whatever comes next?"
"More than ready."
The morning discharge process took longer than expected.
Dr. Hassan insisted on final blood work, neurological assessments, and detailed instructions for trauma recovery that Diana wrote down with meticulous attention.
Nursing staff provided contact information for counseling resources, follow-up appointment schedules, and gentle reminders about the importance of rest during emotional processing.
"Call immediately if you experience any concerning symptoms," Dr. Hassan said, handing Lavender a folder of medical documentation. "Physical or psychological. Trauma recovery isn't linear, and asking for help demonstrates strength, not weakness."
"Thank you," Lavender said, meaning it completely. "For everything. The medical care, the understanding about Diana staying overnight, and the way you treated us like family."
"You are family. Phoenix Ridge takes care of its own." Dr. Hassan's smile was warm. "Now go home and heal together."
Diana carried the small bag of belongings that had accumulated during Lavender's hospital stay: flowers from community members, cards from well-wishers, and the change of clothes Julia had brought from the houseboat.
Everything felt lighter somehow, as if the weight of crisis had lifted along with Lavender's medical clearance.
The hospital corridor buzzed with normal morning activity, but staff members nodded respectfully as they passed.
Word had spread about the trafficking bust, the successful rescue, and the collaborative approach that had made it possible.
Lavender caught fragments of conversation—"community policing," "partnership model," "innovative leadership"—that suggested their work was already influencing how Phoenix Ridge thought about public safety.
"There’s a media van in the parking lot," Diana observed as they approached the main exit.
"How do you want to handle that?"
"We’ll give a brief statement with minimal details and keep the emphasis on community collaboration," Diana replied, falling into professional mode. "Nothing that compromises the federal investigation or exploits what you've been through."
They paused outside the automatic doors, gathering themselves for whatever attention waited beyond the hospital walls.
Through the glass, Lavender could see news crews setting up equipment, photographers checking their cameras, and reporters consulting notes that probably contained more speculation than fact.
"Ready?" Diana asked.
"With you? Always."
The media attention was brief but intense.
Diana provided a professional statement about successful law enforcement collaboration while Lavender thanked the community for their support during her recovery.
Questions about their personal relationship were deflected with polite but firm boundaries about privacy.
"Chief Marten, is it true that community consultation was essential to solving this case?" a reporter from the Phoenix Ridge Tribune asked.
"Community intelligence provided crucial insights that our traditional investigative methods couldn't access," Diana replied. "Effective policing requires partnership with the people we serve."
"Ms. Larwood, how did community networks contribute to your rescue?"
"Phoenix Ridge has spent months developing safety protocols based on mutual support and communication," Lavender said. "Those networks functioned exactly as designed during the crisis. Community members knew what to do because we'd practiced working together."
After five minutes of questions, Diana guided them toward her personal car—not the patrol vehicle, but her sedan.
The drive through Phoenix Ridge felt different than previous journeys.
Morning light revealed a city that looked unchanged on the surface but carried new, vibrant energy underneath.
People walking downtown moved with less caution.
Businesses displayed signs welcoming them home.
The coastal highway sparkled with promise instead of threat.
"Coffee?" Diana asked as they passed Lavender's café.
"Later. Right now I want to see Saffron and Basil to make sure they forgive me for disappearing." Lavender studied the familiar building where purple paint caught morning sun. "The café can wait until I'm ready to be a public figure again."
"When will that be?"
"Monday, maybe Tuesday. Long enough to process everything privately." Lavender looked at Diana. "Will you stay? Tonight, I mean."
"I was hoping you'd ask." Diana's smile was soft. "I brought extra clothes, just in case."
The marina appeared ahead, boat masts rising in the sky. Lavender felt her shoulders relax as they approached the floating community that had become home fifteen years ago. Other houseboat residents waved from their decks, offering welcome-home gestures that spoke to neighborhood solidarity.
Diana parked in the visitor space she'd been using for weeks, the routine so familiar it felt like acknowledgment of permanent arrangements they hadn't yet discussed.
The houseboat bobbed gently at its mooring, looking exactly as they'd left it except for the small security improvements Diana's team had installed. Enhanced locks, improved lighting, and discrete alarm systems that integrated protection with the bohemian atmosphere Lavender had created.
"Home," Lavender said, the word carrying more significance than usual.
Inside, Saffron and Basil waited with feline dignity, expressing their displeasure at recent disruptions through strategic indifference before allowing themselves to be petted.
"Would you like some homebrew coffee?" Lavender asked, moving toward the galley.
"I'll make it. You sit and decompress." Diana began the routine they'd developed over morning visits, hands moving with familiarity through Lavender's kitchen equipment.
Lavender settled into the reading chair where sunlight streamed through windows facing the harbor. Fishing boats headed out for morning runs while pleasure craft prepared for weekend adventures. Normal life was resuming after the crisis.
"What are you thinking about?" Diana asked, handing her a mug that had soft notes of vanilla.
"How different everything looks when you're not afraid." Lavender accepted the coffee, breathing in scents that grounded her in domestic safety. "Six months ago, this was just my space. Now it's our space, and that changes how it feels."
Diana settled beside her on the small couch, close enough that their shoulders touched. "Better or worse?"
"Better. More complete. Like I've been building something beautiful but incomplete, and you're the piece that makes it whole." Lavender studied Diana's profile. "What about you? How does it feel to be here as more than a visitor?"
"Like I finally understand what home means. Not just a place to sleep between work shifts, but somewhere that restores you, where someone knows how you take your coffee and what you need after difficult days."
"Someone who loves you completely."
"Someone who makes everything else make sense." Diana turned to meet Lavender's gaze and leaned closer, her hand finding Lavender's cheek. "No more walls, no more careful boundaries, no more pretending that loving you doesn't make me better at everything I do."
When they kissed, it tasted like coffee and the promise of shared mornings for whatever came next. Outside, harbor water reflected sunlight while seabirds sang to a city that had learned something new about the courage required to build something worth protecting.
Saffron purred his approval from the windowsill where the herbs caught morning light. Basil claimed the space between them, marking territory that now belonged to all of them together.
"So," Lavender said against Diana's lips, "what do we do first?"
"First, we finish our coffee and plan how to spend our first official day as a couple." Diana's smile was soft but determined. "Then we start building whatever comes next."
Through the windows, Phoenix Ridge sparkled. The café waited for Lavender's return, the police department continued its innovative work under Diana's leadership, and the community they served celebrated the partnership that had made all of it possible.
But here, in this floating home surrounded by cats and morning light and the scent of coffee that tasted like belonging, they began the next chapter of everything they'd chosen to build together.