Chapter Text
Training Wheels
Katharina Marinović was the newest addition to the renowned Special Victims Unit. Contrary to what Fin assumed, she wasn't some wet-behind-the-ears newbie; she was a seasoned professional. Originally from Chicago SVU, she was poached by Olivia at a conference, a decision Olivia was glad she'd made, claiming, "She's one of my best hires."
Katharina, or Kat, as everyone came to call her, made a smooth transition onto the team, soon earning the respect and admiration of her colleagues, now friends. She was gentle with victims, unforgiving with victimizers, efficient and organized with paperwork, and, by some miracle, got along with the brass.
It was her dedication to her work that earned his favour. It was so like Mike to admire someone simply for how well they did their job. Evident by his small gestures, Kat had unintentionally earned more than Mike's favour. He had developed a crush.
Well, it wasn't evident to Kat. Didn't Mike help everyone with paperwork? Or remember their coffee order? Bring them snacks and compliment them on their skills? Maybe, but he definitely didn't slip and call them 'cute.' After some light teasing about his slip, he asked her out. Though they kept that to themselves.
It had been three months of being daytime cordial coworkers, then late-night lovebirds. For their upcoming anniversary, Kat decided on a sushi restaurant. Despite living in New York, Michael has never tried sushi. Whenever the squad got takeout, he always used a fork. Kat assumed this was more efficient for him; as per his performance reviews, Dodds was all about efficiency.
It hadn't occurred to her that he couldn't use chopsticks until he dropped a tuna roll for the fourth time. After watching him stubbornly struggle for a while, her laughter finally erupted when a waitress placed a fork in front of him. She stifled her laughter between her offers to help, which he politely turned down. Cute as it was, it was to watch him try and fail; Kat decided to help him against his will. The poor man must be starving.
Picking up his roll is met with immediate protests. “Hey, I was eating that!”
“Were you?” Katharina joked, her eyebrow raised.
“Just because I’m having a hard time means you get to steal my food? I thought you liked what you ordered.” He gestured to her plate.
“And what did I order?” She questioned with a squint and a smile.
“The uhh… What is it called? Spicy fish thing.” Mike studied her dish for a clue, but the detective came up empty-handed.
Laughing off his confusion, she quietly pleaded, "Just let me help you." He caved, allowing her to feed him. He hummed in surprised satisfaction as the tuna melted. "Why didn't you tell me you can't use chopsticks?"
"You were so excited to try this place out; I didn't want to ruin it for you." Mike was slightly bashful yet earnest in his explanation. It made Katharina melt.
"I could've brought you training wheels." She dipped another roll in soy sauce for him to try.
"Ha. Ha. Very funny," he replied dryly, assuming she was making fun of him.
"What? It's a real thing." She holds the sushi in front of him, making an “Ahh” sound. Mike squinted as he tried to discern if she was messing with him; he resigned himself to just Google it later and accepted the sushi. Then she jests, “You were really fighting those chopsticks.”
“I really don’t understand how you use these,” Michael observed her eating her own sushi and attempted to mimic the motion. It wasn’t a complete disaster; he did get most of the roll in his mouth, but spilled a bit of soy sauce on his chin.
Instinctively, Kat reached for a napkin and dabbed his chin. He thanks her, wearing that bashful expression she liked. Katharina’s admiration of her boyfriend’s face was cut short as someone cleared their throat, calling her attention.
Slowly, she removes her hand from his son’s chin as she makes eye contact with the man. A man who made her feel as if she had been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
It was Deputy Chief Williams Dodds.
“Hey, Dad.” Michael’s greeting was uncharacteristically awkward.
“Son.” “Marinović.” William’s stern and formal greeting was perfectly on brand.
“S-Sir.” Kat regretted the mortifying stutter the second it left her lips.
William Dodds gave us both a curt nod before leaving with a takeout bag.
In the infancy of their budding relationship, Michael had seen Katharina blush quite often, but she had never been redder than this very moment.
“I didn’t know he liked sushi,” Mike commented, leering at the takeout bag his father carried out.
“That’s your concern?” Kat asked, exasperatedly. She sat back in her seat, quickly stuffing a sushi roll in her mouth.
“Hmm?” Michael’s gaze broke as he turned his attention back to his date.
“Your father knows about us.” Kat slouched in her seat. Her dejection couldn’t be more apparent as she stuffed a roll in her mouth. Mirroring her, Michael’s shoulders fell, and he was instantly inundated with all the potential issues that would arise with his father knowing their relationship.
It wasn’t a secret that the deputy chief had high hopes for his son; thus, he wouldn’t see Katharina as the brilliant addition to Michael’s life that she was; instead, he would view her as a distraction from the goals he had for his son.
Secondly, while she had passed the sergeant’s exam, she hadn’t been offered a position yet, meaning Mike was still her superior, which could stunt his professional goals if it ever came out, a truth his father would never let him forget.
Kat’s spiral was concerning her career. By some miracle, she had maintained a good relationship with the higher-ups at 1PP. Dating the Deputy Chief’s son could be fatal to her career, not to mention the stigma a woman carries for dating her colleague. Katharina knew she earned her position, but if people heard she was seeing William Dodds’ son, would they believe that?
The appearance of William Dodds had worsened the mood in every way. The romantic lighting dimmed, the music melancholized, and even the table’s centrepiece had wilted in front of them.
Suddenly, a waiter checked in, questioning how their evening was proceeding, as even the staff noticed how the atmosphere had dampened. It was an empty courtesy, but a helpful one, it drew them both from their contemplation and prompted a polite nod.
Even though they sat before one another, they had stopped meeting each other’s eyes, more preoccupied with their own thoughts, with all the reasons they shouldn’t be together, and with how they longed for the lighthearted ambiance the night had before. Owing to the waiter, they finally glanced up.
Due to their familiarity and insightfulness, they knew what the other was thinking.
“Should this end?”
“It’s only been three months.”
“Now would be a great time to break things off.”
“Aside from his father, no one knows…they could have a clean break.”
Michael earnestly presented his open palm to her. Katharina, at an internal crossroads, looked down, focused on his hand, his invitation. After a brief pause where she searched his eyes for certainty, she concluded her own internal debate and accepted. Slipping her hand into his, clutching it as she spoke.
“I don’t want this to end.”
“Neither do I.”
Michael closed his hand around hers, resuscitating their romantic evening.