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“Okay so CCTV confirms they were at the bar from eight pm until- Sebastian, are you listening?” Tammy demands, noticing his attention is somewhere else entirely.
Instead of looking at her, he continues to stare at the suspects social media profile, absently commenting, “I’ve got a few transgender friends online but I’ve never met a non-binary person before.”
“That you know of.”
He blinks up at her. “Huh?”
Gesturing, she explains, “You probably have, you just didn’t realise it. Not everyone is out. I met a couple back in DC though,” she corrects herself with a smirk, “hooked up with a couple back in DC.”
“Huh…”
As he drifts off into thought again, she bats him on the shoulder, “Hey, Sebastian? Do you think maybe we should get back to solving crime now?”
“Do you ever… think about your gender?” he asks her randomly across the squad room one day.
It’s just them here, finishing off the last few reports on one case while the others get started on questioning witnesses for another.
Frowning, Tammy sets down her pen, “In what way, sweetie?”
“Like uh,” he taps his fingers rhythmically on the desk, “how do you know you’re a woman? Without, without saying it’s because that’s how you were born.”
She settles back in her chair, eventually revealing, “I did wonder briefly if I was transgender, when I was trying to work out my sexuality, I spent a while considering if it was my gender that was queer rather than my sexuality. But it wasn’t me in the end.”
She’s not even she sure can remember how she’d decided. It had been more of a gut feeling than anything.
“I can’t really explain it, baby,” she motions vaguely down at herself, “this just feels like me.”
Slowly, he nods, looking lost in thought and she resists the urge to ask where all this is coming from, trusting her instinct that she shouldn’t push.
“Also, I think the way I like women is very queer,” she shrugs, “it almost feels like it would be a different kind of love if it was straight.”
“There’s not just man or woman though, right?”
There’s a specific tone to his voice that, again, makes her want to question him but she refrains, instead nodding in agreement, “Right.”
Patiently, she waits for him to say something else, anything to confirm or deny her suspicions but he simply turns back to his reports.
She’s reclining on the couch with a book when he appears, hovering just out of her eyeline.
Irritated at the interruption, she scowls at him but her frown melts away when she catches sight of the pen-pot nonbinary pride flag clutched in his hands.
Her gaze flies to his face and he fidgets anxiously under the scrutiny.
Slowly, she sits up, sets aside her book and takes the flag from him.
This feels like the culmination of little drips of conversation and half thoughts she’s heard over the last few months.
“Is this you?”
He nods silently and she stands, immediately pulling him into a hug.
She feels the shuddering breath they take and squeezes even tighter, murmuring, “I’m proud of you, baby.”
And she is, so proud. She’s been watching this struggle from the sidelines, knowing that they’d come to her when they were ready.
When they eventually pull back, she squeezes their arms, asking, “Do you feel like yourself?”
Because at the end of the day, she knows that’s the only thing that really matters.
They don’t answer at first, instead adjusting their glasses reflectively, then a content smile tugs at the very corners of their lips, “I, I think so. It’s just that ‘myself’ doesn’t really feel like a man, not entirely, you know? Or, well-” they shrug- “I guess you don’t know.”
She tilts her head in acknowledgment that, no, she doesn’t truly understand but that doesn’t mean she isn’t going to listen and that definitely doesn’t mean she hasn’t already done her own research in preparation for this moment.
“What pronouns would you like me to use for you?” she asks gently and they begin nervously twisting their fingers together.
“He and they?” they request hesitantly, “but just, just around here for now, I’m not ready for the others to catch on.”
Smiling reassuringly, she squeezes his arm. “Of course, baby.”
“Now this, this will work.”
Tammy drums her fingers on the table she’s perched on, frowning impatiently, “Come on baby, let’s see!”
Their door opens and they step nervously into view, made a few inches taller than usual by high-heeled converse.
She gapes, “Okay, not what I was expecting.”
She’d imagined a stiletto or perhaps some kind of high-heeled combat boot but this suits him perfectly.
“They look alright though, don’t they?-” his fiddles anxiously with the edge of his jacket- “I thought I should keep my vague style so they still feel like me…”
An indignance rises in her as they shrink in on themselves and she mentally curses everything that’s ever made them feel like they need to take up less space.
“Oh, nugget, they are so you!” she encourages vehemently.
They light up effervescently and she grins, motioning down the hallway.
“Come on, show us a strut.”
When he hesitates, she raises a challenging eyebrow until they relent, taking a deep breath and striding out.
“Hell yes!” she whoops, fist pumping enthusiastically as they get more confident with each step, “work the space, baby!”
He does a dramatic spin at the far end and she throws her head back in laughter, swinging her feet as they bound back, coming to a stop in front of her with a euphoric beam across their entire face.
“You know what you need to do now, right?” she grins up at them as they narrow their eyes quizzically.
“What?”
“Chase a suspect,” she chuckles at his disbelieving look then leans close to whisper in faux seriousness, “high heels think they hold the power over us but the truth is, once we can run in them, it’s us who have the power.”
“Can you run in heals?” they challenge, amused.
Not liking where this is going, she narrows her eyes, “I can. I choose not to.”
For a while she’d lived in heeled boots but switching to combats had been what felt like a final step away from DC, fully embracing her life in New Orleans and herself.
“I think I need proof of this,” he states solemnly, a mischievous twinkle to his eye that she privately delights in seeing, even if she knows she’s probably going to regret the results of this conversation.
“I’m not racing you,” she maintains, rolling her eyes when they pout because she already knows she’s going to give in eventually, “no!”
“Hey, Sebastian?” there’s something about Patton’s tone that catches Tammy’s attention, even from halfway across the room and as low as his voice is.
“Yeah, P?”
“Is this supposed to be a big deal?” he shows them something on his tablet and the anxiety that tenses their body has her instantly on edge.
He glances across at her and she smiles reassuringly despite not knowing what’s going on.
“Uh, kinda?” they swallow, “but also no. I, I don’t want everyone to know yet.”
“Of course, man, of course,” he pats them on the shoulder firmly then rolls out of the room, throwing Tammy a smile on the way.
The minute he’s back in his office, Sebastian is up and leaning against her desk.
“Patton knows,” he explains faintly, “I changed the pronouns in my gaming profiles…”
They seem to be almost in shock as they brace themselves on their hands and she reaches out to them, patting their arm encouragingly, “Breathe, baby. You’re doing good, you don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember?”
Shakily, he nods, “I want to tell Pride and Doc Wade though.”
“That’s great!” she enthuses but they look terrified and she understands.
She’d never really come out to the team, not in a way that had been a big deal anyway, she’d just hadn’t hidden it from them and they’d all gradually worked it out.
It’s different when it’s people you know and have known you for years, when it’s people who have an idea of who you are in their heads and might react badly to finding out that the image is changing or has never actually been right all this time.
Even though the team have never been anything other than accepting, to either of them, it’s still nerve-wracking.
“Will you help me?”
She smiles softly, promising, “In any way I can.”
“Hey, Pride,” Tammy greets, delighted by how easy it is to get hold of him now that he’s back to being in the field office full time, “you up for a family meal tonight?”
He looks up from the coffee pot, automatically reaching out his hand to give her a top up as he easily agrees, “Sure, Gregorio.”
“Just me, you, Doc Wade and Sebastian?” she requests, “Sebastian wants to tell you something. Nothing bad just, he’s getting himself all stressed about it, I told him not to do it over a meal and, well, never mind.”
Flapping her hand, she cuts herself off. It’ll go how it goes. And she’s sure that it’ll all be fine, it’s just convincing them of that.
“Alright, New York,” he nods, bemused expression on his face, “we’ll be there.”
She excepts back her now fresh coffee and beams, “Thanks, Pride.”
“Wait everyone,” Sebastian holds their hand out over the table, “before we start-” they snatch their hand back- “no, no, after. I’ll do it after. But, wait, no. I-“
“Sebastian.”
Seeing his anxiety building into what is sure to become a full-blown panic attack – if it isn’t one already – Tammy puts her hand on their shoulder.
“Breathe,” she reminds gently and he obediently follows her direction, in and out.
Then they turn back to the others and blurt, “I’m nonbinary!” twisting their fingers together in their lap as their voice drops and they stutter, “and I wanted you both to know.”
He refuses to meet anyone’s eye and so misses the confused look Loretta and Pride exchange at the sudden information.
Pride’s gaze flicks to hers and she motions pointedly at Sebastian, who is quickly building up into a panic once more.
“What does that actually mean?” he asks gently.
“It means that sometimes… I don’t feel like I’m quite a man?” they explain hesitantly, “like I’m not a woman, definitely not a woman but not really a man either. It’s not really a big deal, nothing is going to change I’m still the same person it’s just…”
Shrugging helplessly, they trail off and Tammy rubs a reassuring hand across his back.
Pride, who seems to have finally slipped back into supportive parent mode, rather than confused parent mode (not that they’re mutually exclusive) carefully assures, “If it’s a big deal to you, Sebastian, then it’s a big deal.”
“That’s the thing it’s kinda… not?” they wince, cringing in on themselves, “it’s just who I am, you know. Who I’ve always been really, it’s just taken me a while to figure it out.”
Loretta makes a move before Tammy can, standing and stepping around the table to them.
“Well, we’re delighted you have,” she pulls him into a hug, whispering only just loudly enough for them all to hear, “All I want is for all of my children to be happy.”
As she pulls back, their eyes are red and when Pride reaches across to supportively pat their hand, they sniffle slightly, throwing Tammy a pleading glance that she recognises as their desire to not be the centre of attention anymore.
“Alright then,” she grins, throwing them a wink, “now the personal revelations are over, let’s eat!”
“People don’t just refer to you as ‘he’ do they?”
Tammy snaps to attention at the question, innocent though it is, carefully studying Sebastian’s reaction to ascertain if he needs backup for the direction the conversation is taking.
But they seem to be okay, the only sign of anxiety in them the way they’re gripping their coffee as they otherwise calmly answer, “No, they don’t. I use they and them too.”
Naomi, from her perch on the tabletop, tilts her head curiously. “Why?”
“Because I’m not a man, I’m what’s called nonbinary which means I’m not a man or a woman,” he shrugs earnestly, “he and they are the pronouns that feel right for me.”
For a moment Naomi considers that answer, absently swinging her legs, then she probes, “If you’re not a man then why do you use he at all?”
“Because pronouns aren’t the same as gender,” they explain after a beat to gather their thoughts, “and a lot of the time, what’s on the outside doesn’t match what we feel on the inside.”
She frowns, “Like when you’re sad but smile anyway because you don’t want people knowing?”
Tammy’s heart goes out to the young teenager who’s already been through so much.
“More like… when you find something really funny but it’s a serious moment so you’re trying really hard not to laugh,” they pull a weird face and Naomi giggles, then catches sight of her mom and hops down off the table to run towards her.
“Hi baby,” Hannah greets her affectionately, “what’ve you been up to in here?”
“Sebastian was telling me about… their gender. He’s queer like you mommy!”
Tammy has to stop herself from making an adoring face at the easy acceptance from the next generation, sidling up to Sebastian with a now-finished plate of sandwiches for them all.
“Uh huh,” Hannah chuckles, petting her hair, “and did they tell you it was okay for you to be talking to people about it? Some people like to tell people themselves.”
“They said they didn’t mind! He’s proud of who he is mom, that’s a good thing, right?”
“Very good, sweetheart,” she agrees, pulling her daughter in to drop a kiss on the top of her head.
Beside her, Sebastian takes a relieved breath, quietly wondering aloud, “Is this the future?”
Tammy pulls them into a half hug, smiling softly, “I really hope so, baby.”