A/N: After much debate on posting this, (I do that a lot, it seems) I finally decided to do it. I have an awful track record for updating multi-chapter fics but I'm out of work and school - a bad car accident in March left me on bedrest for the foreseeable future - and I really don't have much to do, so that shouldn't be a problem. I've gone from three jobs and two planned summer classes to, well, nothin'! Anyway, this is what's come from an incredible amount of boredom.

Just to be safe, spoilers up to 'Always,' and the usual disclaimers apply. Not beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine. Took some creative liberties with this. This is set sometime in the future and a timeline will be established as the story progresses. Lastly, if you've read all this, you're a saint. Enjoy!

"Mommy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"When you go to heaven, do you get really hairy?"

Kate looks up from her paperwork then and meets her daughter's curious blue eyes. She sits back in her chair and turns it, watching as her daughter comes around the corner of the desk. The little girl stands bet ween her mother's knees, hands on Kate's thighs.

"What have your brothers been telling you now, Gracie?" she asks, carding a hand through her daughter's long hair.

"They didn't tell me anything! But if that's what happens, then I don't ever want to go to heaven." she says dramatically, bringing her hands up to either side of her face, protecting them.

Kate laughs quietly, taking her daughter's hands in her own.

"Where's this coming from, honey?"

"Daddy's at the door," her daughter responds bluntly, like it's an ordinary, everyday statement.

"Gracie," she exclaims, getting up, scooping her daughter up into her arms and hoisting her to the hip. "You've got to stop answering the door! We've talked about this."

She's more stunned that her almost-four-year-old opened the front door – again – then who she said was behind it, because let's get real, there was no way daddy was at the front door. Out of habit, Kate grabbed her piece and, with one hand, tucked it into the back waistband of her dress slacks.

"But it is daddy!" Grace's telling her, mumbling into her ear, hands fisted into her sweater.

"No, honey. We've talked about this, too. Daddy's in heaven."

"And he got really hairy, mommy! We've talked about this!" she said, parroting her mother with twice the attitude.

Most likely nothing, she's convincing herself. It's just after dinnertime, still somewhat light outside. They had just arrived home after a dinner out with everybody. Her kids were playing in the living room and she must have been so caught up in her paperwork that she didn't even hear the doorbell or knocking. Or maybe, he used his key –

It's not Daddy. Absolutely not.

Kate rounds the corner of the office, listening to the mumbling storytelling of her daughter and by the time she gets to the kitchen, she can see that there is in fact someone at the door, albeit back turned and hunched over. It's a tall man, and that's about all she can tell. She's on edge now.

What's going on?

"James, Henry," she called to her sons, watching the man flinch slightly but still staying turned away.

Her boys came over to her in the kitchen, asking questions and making comments – "Mom, it's not bedtime yet…" She ignored their protests and crouched down, putting Grace on her own feet, handing them her cell phone.

"Henry, if I don't call up to you in two minutes, two minutes okay? Call Uncle Javi and tell him to come over and fast, got it?"

"Mom?" her son asked, startled.

"All three of you, upstairs, now," she told them, standing up straight and motioning for them to get moving. She started to the door when she heard a bedroom door close upstairs.

Kate took to the door slowly, quietly; reaching for her gun with every step she took. She was some ten feet way when the man turned around and she pulled her gun, pointed it at him. She got a good look at him then; small beard grown over the bottom of his face, cheek bones more prominent, face all thinned out, hair falling over his eyes.

But damn, those eyes were definitely her husband's.

She felt her heart hammering in her chest as he took a step closer into their home and she reflexively took a step back, still holding her gun, still not sure of, well, anything. He stopped and pulled both his hands out of his pockets, put them out in front of him to show that he didn't have any weapons and wasn't going to hurt her.

"Kate," he said quietly, a tone just above a whisper. That was his voice, she was certain.

She lowered her weapon, tucking it back into the waistband of her pants and took a tentative step toward him.

"Rick?"

He held her eyes as he nodded, all words escaping him.

"What on earth?" she stuttered on her words. "You're dead, Rick."

"No," was his simple reply. "He kept me alive to punish me."

"What? I don't – " she trailed off, confused, startled. The words rattled around in her head, she couldn't piece them together. Something else then dawned on her, "Ryan?"

"He's home, too. He's with Jenny as we speak."

She shook her head quickly, disbelief flooding through her veins. Nothing made sense.

"I just saw her, though. We were all at dinner – "

"I know," he said simply.

"You know?"

"We both saw you all at the restaurant and then decided it would be best to just see you each at home," he replied, taking a tentative step forward, reaching out to touch her. His hands came up to touch her face, brush the hair out of her eyes.

"You cut it," he stated.

"Just a few inches," she replied, fidgeting with her flat-ironed hair in between her fingers, nervously. "It's easier to handle with the kids."

And that's when it all hits her; that she was standing in her living room, talking to her dead husband about her hairstyle.

"Stop making small talk with me," she said quietly as she lowered her hand from her hair, going still when he laced his fingers with hers. When she didn't flinch or back away, he pulled her to him. She felt tears burn at her eyes, confusion and heartbreak and happiness swell inside as he wrapped his arms around her, placed his chin on top of her head.

"Happy Birthday, Kate."

I know I just threw a lot at you there but drop me a line, tell me what you think? I'll give you a hug and a cookie! :)