They stood like that that for minutes? hours? finally safe in each others' arms, in a new weird still moment, where that was so much more than enough that Rick could hardly move. Kate was nestled against his chest as though they had been made to fit together, and for a wonder, neither of them was crying. The evening is looking up.
"I said that this morning, I wanted you, and tomorrow I probably will again and I'll need to you to tell me to slow down," Rick said. It was still weird, not wanting to tear off her clothes.
"What if I don't want you to?"
I'll think you don't have the sense God gave a golfball. "I'm so used to your needing time I wouldn't know what to answer," Rick said. Oh, that was sensitive all right. "Honestly? I like change, we needed change; if this is how we are now, compared with how we were this afternoon, it was worth all of it. It cost a lot. So, can we see for a little while — days, not years — how we are? Like, did you really say you would stop working your mother's case, until further notice and discussion? Which I am willing to have if we get more information… but for now, I can, for real, look your father in the eye? and also not feel cold sweat when I think of you?"
He held her in his arms and thought he could feel her thinking. "Yeah," she agreed. "But-cold sweat? Really?"
"Hot sweat as well, of course, but that's a good feeling. Kate, I've been so damn terrified for you. Your life — any cop, any New Yorker's, anybody's life is balanced on so many knife-edges already, yet I actually allow my daughter to leave our house every day. I know how things happen to people, that the last time they have together can be any time at all. But snipers? Paramilitary extractions of people who want to kill you from courtrooms? I have some idea how you could sanely have a duty to your mother, and to the others, because—" because you are the most beautiful of the angels of vengeance, ooh, I want to write that sometime, but she told me to cut out the archetypes— "Because that's part of your desire for justice. But the rest of us, who are alive, we want some of you too. Cold sweat. Yes."
Kate took her head off Rick's shoulder look enough to look at him. He looked back. "I wish I had a better way with words," she said.
"It's a living, but it hasn't always got me where I wanted to go."
"And then you say things like that and I'm not intimidated anymore."
"A jackass is a wonderful thing to have around, see? I just mean, ah, Kate—" he crushed her suddenly to him for a moment. "The— that you heard me say 'I love you,' that you seem to like it, is key, is everything to me, is important; but I haven't been part of your life as long as your mother, alive or dead. Or even for the length of time you've been working her case. This is big, Kate. I don't want to glib through it. This is about the whole way you live. If you end up pursuing it again, I want that to be a choice—" and one I am involved in helping you make "— and it's really important for you to own it. For the choice— not to because you're getting bullied by people who love you, or bullies inside you telling to act like a—" he swallowed some poorly-selected words. "That you're acting freely and not because you put yourself in some archetype. I'm not the only one here who wants to act like a good story."
"My mom will always be part of me…" Kate began to feel her way. "The way she died, and the way I've mourned her will always be part of me. And I do want what we all say— like you say, we say it glibly: I do want 'closure,' a clean case with all the ends tied-up. But I have done all I can. For now. And Roy chose to die and leave me a chance to live, if I'm willing to admit not everything gets a tidy ending. Which I should know, I have cold cases and they bother me sometimes but I can put them away." She stood a little free of him, proud and tall. "And sometimes I have to do that. And it's not a cop-out."
"It very much is not."And anytime you want some excuses, Kate, I got a thousand, but I'm shutting up right now.
"So yes, I really mean it: I can stop prying. I can take the board in my living room down."
Rick felt something roll off of him. "One hell of a metaphor, Beckett."
"What?"
"Yeah. Walls? Down?"
"Oh. Hmm. Might be…" She was shocked. "Do people really work like that?"
"Life imitating art? Yes. It is incredibly satisfying. And you can use my secure smartboard any time you want."
"Middle of the night?" There was a purr in Kate's voice of pure evil.
"You're very supportive when I start to babble with relief."
"It does relieve some of the pressure." She giggled. "Poor Dr. Kovalic will be so happy!"
And maybe you will, too, Kate, I haven't heard you laugh in a while. "How will you tell him?"
"I'm supposed to be keeping some kind of journal. Like what you said, about paying attention to what happens, how I feel about what happens."
"So you can mail him a file?"
"No, he wanted me to use a pen and paper."
"So, let me guess — a partly-used spiral notebook from either your training days or college, with the pages you used at that time torn out. The spiral is half-squashed and the cover is in the process of detaching." He glanced down at her face. "I'm right, aren't I?"
"You looked in my bag?"
"No. Making an educated guess about how you drag your feet. It's either black or green and has a telephone number written on the shiny part."
"Dark green, and it's a website."
"I forgot, times have changed. In a few minutes, you're going to take me home and I'm going to fix your pissy self-image and your complete lack of respect for anyone in therapy."
"Oooooooooooooh, harsh."
"Right now I want to hold you longer. Okay?"
"Okay. I think, Rick? Very much okay."
He wanted to kiss her, tangle his lips in Kate's hair, but the sense of peace after a terrible day was too great to mess with. And I am tired in places I didn't know I could feel tired. So he kept his hands in acceptably formal places until she stirred. "So, if you really did mean to tell me you love me, we can have this again?" she asked.
"Yes. So, if you really didn't mind hearing that I love you, I can hold you without anyone dying, or nearly dying?"
"Yes. Can we mention that I said something about loving you, in return?"
"You were under pressure. The heat of the moment. Maybe you thought I was dying." I was dying. "Another thing I would like to talk about after the dust has settled."
"I meant it."
"I know." Rick brought her hand to his lips. "I know. Give me a little time?"
"I guess," Kate said. "I owe you as much time as you gave me."
Rick hated to leave her even slightly at sea but he was empty. "Not that much time. Please. I want … I want to be able to accept your heart, not just say, 'Great, thanks, me too.' Let me have time so I can recognize, I guess; cherish, enfold, celebrate, really feel what that means to you. My head is too full of synonyms and my heart is still too relieved. All right?" And if I had to tell you I don't think you're able to know your own heart right now…that would not go over well. If you hadn't had your own walls, you would have noticed mine. Rick watched her face and it seemed she was all right with that. He kissed her fingers again. "Now, will you take me home, so we can talk stationery supplies porn?"
