He was sitting at his desk feet propped up, laptop resting on his legs and typing away when he heard the front door open then close softly. He heard the clink of her keys as they landed in the copper bowl she'd insisted they buy because she was tired of him always losing his.
"See, if you put them right into the bowl when you come in then you'll always be able to find them." She said, placing it on the end of the counter.
Knowing the heels would be next, he listened for the sigh to come after she slipped them off her feet.
The kitchen would be her next stop he knew, so he waited to see if she would choose wine or a bottle of water. He heard the clink of the glass against the counter, then the popping sound as she pulled the cork from the bottle. Wine it was then. This was worse than he figured.
He had left her standing at the murder board, frustration covering her face. The information they had gathered so far was miniscule, barely a few facts were filling the board. He hated having to leave her like that, but he had a meeting with his publishers that he couldn't get out of. He had put it off twice already and both Gina and Paula were threatening his life.
He'd kissed her softly on the cheek, whispering "I love you, I'll see you at home."
She had squeezed his hand, tight, before he left, like she was drawing strength from was reluctant to let him go, but she realised he had to leave.
Now, she walked into the study, her glass filled to the brim, she kissed him gently on his cheek, then headed straight into their room.
He saved his work, closing the lid of his laptop, he got up from behind the desk and headed for the big overstuffed chair. It had belonged to her grandmother and he had saved it from the trash. He'd had refinished as a surprise when she moved in. He could still see the look of joy that had covered her face upon seeing it there in his study.
He settled in, waiting for her to reappear. It didn't take long until she made her way back out to him. Her face scrubbed clean, hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, wearing her NYPD hoodie and a pair of his sweatpants.
He held out his arms and she climbed up onto his lap, curling up against him, his arms encircling her, pulling her in close. He reached up behind him pulling down her favorite blanket and covering them both.
This had become their routine whenever a case really got to her. The first time she had done it was still embedded in his brain.
She had led him by the hand to the chair telling him to sit, then she'd climbed onto his lap, her words resonating through his head.
"You make me feel so safe, so loved. Being here with you, wrapped up in your arms. When I feel like walking away from this damn job,you give me hope, strength, a reason to keep fighting, to believe that what we do does make a difference. That good does win out over evil."
Now, he started to ask what had happened in the time since he had left her, but before the words could make it out she placed her fingers over his lips whispering, "Just hold me, Rick."
He tucked her in closer and pressed a gentle kiss to her head.
Turns out as much as he's come to need her, sometimes she needs him even more.