The stars outside their bedroom window twinkle as he quietly pads through the room in an attempt not to wake her up. From where he stands he can see her silhouette lying quietly in bed, with her chest rising and falling in an even pattern. For a moment, he doesn't want to move or change or go to sleep; he wants to stand and watch her from a distance because it's moments like these when the absolute delicacy and grace of Kate Beckett shine through.
He gets into his boxers and walks quietly to the bedside, and that's when he notices how she's sleeping. She's curled around his pillow, on his side of the bed, with his tee shirt tightly wrapped around her. Her hair is fanned out behind her in a jungle of curls that she allows none of the outside world to see, and it takes everything he has within him not to run his fingers through it.
He reaches out and strokes her cheek, hoping to lull her from her slumber long enough to get her to move over, because he knows that she hates it when he sleeps on her side. Her eyes flutter open slowly, and although it takes her a moment to adjust, there's no denying that look in her eyes the moment she realizes that it's him.
"Hey stranger." She whispers, voice heavy with sleep. A teasing smile pulls at the corners of her lips as she shimmies over to allow him to get in.
Once he's settled, he opens his arms and she slides into the comfortably, filling the hole that had been so bare for the both of them for the last two days. There are no words, only emotions and feeling. They hold each other close and breathe in each others scent in order to rid themselves of the awful loneliness that had been plaguing them. Her back is pressed against his stomach as she lies between his legs, and with fingers intertwined they begin to speak.
"I missed you." He whispers into her hair. He feels her smile into the dark.
"I guess I kind of missed you a little bit, too." She replies.
"That's a lie."
She giggles, sending ripples of joy through him. He wiggles his fingers, and she does the same in return- a gesture that they've been familiar with since their very first date. But this time when she wiggles back, he feels the cold metal of her wedding band slide smoothly against his fingers as well.
"Your ring. You're wearing it to bed." He states aloud. "You never wear it to bed."
She lifts her left hand up in front of her and studies the way it looks in the darkness.
"I do when you're not around." She admits. He smiles.
"Well how sentimental of you."
She laughs an annoyed laugh and lays her hand back down next to her, waiting for him to hold it again but he doesn't. Instead, he traces the length of her arm with the pad of his thumb, coming to rest on her upturned palm. He counts each of her fingers on both hands until he finally slips his fingers into hers once more.
"How did it go with your publisher?" she asks curiously.
"It went well." He says, uninterested. "How did it go with the doctor?"
"It went well." She replies in the same bored tone he gave her.
With his hands still wrapped around hers he brings them up and rests all four of them atop her protruding belly. It's warm and firm and all sorts of amazing. Her breath hitches in her throat, and he's about to ask her what's wrong until he feels it himself. Movement. Beneath their four hands they feel the undeniable squirm of a baby; alive, healthy, and well. His heart is racing.
"She's moving." He whispers. Kate nods her head. "She never did that before."
"You've missed a lot since you've been away."
"It's only been two days."
She hesitates before she responds. "It's felt like months."
That's when she's startled awake by something outside her window. The sun is making its slow debut over the horizon just beyond the buildings of New York and for a moment, she wonders where he went. She sits up in bed and rubs her eyes, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over her the moment she swings her legs over the side of the bed.
She looks around the room in a naïve hope of finding him there, but she doesn't. Instead, she's greeted by clothes and baby books- an empty shell of the room that used to be occupied by the both of them. Quickly and all to heavily she feels the weight of the day ahead bear down on her shoulders, and as she presses a hand gently over her growing bump her heart throbs.
It's been so long.
She gets up and goes about her daily routine. She slips her fathers watch onto her wrist and pulls her mothers necklace over her head. Her last stop is the dresser, where she removes her rings and sets them down into their velvet box. Standing next to it is a framed photograph that she tries not to look at too often. But today she needs that little push, and she finds it in his smile.
It's big and bright and sparkling at her from behind the frame.
She touches it gently, passing her fingers over the crook of his neck and the dimple in his cheek.
She misses him with every fragment of her being.
All she wants is one more minute.
One more second.
One more chance to be able to feel his arms around her.
She stares into the eyes that knew her so well and that's when she feels it.
She feels him.
Feels his hand on her lower back guiding her forward.
Giving her strength.
Just one more day. He whispers to her. Do it for me.
She feels her baby kick.
Do it for her.
I know that it's sad and kind of depressing.
But it came to me... and I wanted to get it in writing.
(I kind of sound like a broken record, don't I?)
Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think, dolls.
Love&Blessings
O