Why was he nervous? He was the one who asked her to come. She was the one who had to deal with a hundred or more complete strangers. Yet he shook and fidgeted in his suit, constantly readjusting his wine colored tie and his polished cuff links as he walked into her building.
Perhaps his anxiety had to do with the impression he wanted to make. It had been a few years now since he'd seen all the Rodgers, especially those over in New Jersey. His baby cousin Angela was getting married, and the rest of the clan used the wedding as a big reunion.
Martha harped on him, of course, making sure he'd actually attend and while there, save his face. Many of the members of the Rodgers family made a point to compete with each other, especially with Rick after his writer success. Some of them didn't quite measure up professionally, but most of his cousins were settled, often married with kids, whereas he kept two divorces under his belt. He needed some strength there in that department.
And that's exactly why he followed through with his knock on Kate's door.
He asked her only a few days ago, last minute and penalizing him a little bit she lingered on her decision, but with a touch of begging she eventually agreed. Now he stood at her door, contemplating whether or not he made the right decision.
"I'm almost ready," she said opening the door, barely taking a look at him. She darted around the apartment as he walked in, eyes obviously locked on her, all of her, from her intricate bun that helped to expose her glow, her beaming face, to the drapes of her dress and her shear wrap spilling across the floor. She slipped in her earrings and grabbed her coat hanging over the couch before she looked up, meeting sharp blues staring her down, causing her to stop abruptly.
Good decision. So right.
"What—what's wrong?" She asked. As surprised as she was at his look, she found herself assessing him as well, appreciating how he filled his suit. In the face of this situation, both of them danced lightly, cautiously, still feeling out the moves they had to do…or wanted to do.
"No-no," he replied, still struggling to look away, "nothing wrong there." A weak smile formed along her lips, half embarrassed, half giddy. He grinned wide and let out a soft laugh. "We match."
"Oh I'm sorry, did you not want to? Is that too couple-y?"
He reached out for her hand, and though reluctant, she took it. "In tonight's case, that's exactly what we need."
—-
On the drive to the wedding, he prepped her through the story he prepared for the night. She would be his girlfriend of a little over a year—she threw him quite the look when he proposed the idea, but he continually stressed that it was just for the night—and that they were a strong, steady couple. With every detail he constructed, she couldn't help but laugh at the idea, but he pleaded each time in response.
"It's not like I'm asking you to be my wife," he said.
She looked at him with raised brows, one arm folded in and the other upright to hold her head in her hands. "Are you saying I wouldn't be a good wife?"
"What?" he asked. The alarm in his voice entertained her, but she maintained composure to keep the act on.
"You sayin' I couldn't be your wife? Am I not good enough?"
He looked back and forth at her and the road trying to appease her. "No-no I just didn't think you would—I didn't want you to feel—"
No longer able to hold it in she bursted out, howling in delight as his relaxed into annoyance. In that moment, it occurred to him to challenge her. "You know what, you probably couldn't be my wife."
Soon enough her laughter died out and she just stared at him in disbelief. "Is that a dare?"
"If you wanna take it, yeah," he said. When he looked at her her lips were pursed, clearly trying to entertain the idea in her head. "Married two years. Just for tonight. One night."
"Fine," she started, "I can do that."
"Okay. We'll see."
"Yeah, you'll see," she muttered under her breath.
—-
It wasn't until the reception when they could really showcase themselves as a married couple. Many people took notice to them, not just for Rick's fame, but also largely for Kate. Elegant as she looked, taking the dance floor she especially stunned many people—several stared while they danced, even those on the floor with them.
"A lot of people are staring," Kate whispered to him as they danced. He twirled her out and back in, her back to him and their arms folded together, their bodies swaying along, singing with the motions in unison.
"Because you're beautiful," he said, almost a-matter-of-fact-ly.
"You think so?" she said.
"Of course. I also think there are a lot of other beautiful women here and you're lucky that we're married for the night."
He turned her out and in again so she could face him, and he watched her shake her head while she suppressed a smile.
Though they spent most of the night together, at times they separated, often pulled aside by others. Friends. Family. Both carried their own anxieties of what they would say to everyone—even if none of it was real. They'd eye each other across waves of people, checking in on where the other was and what they were doing. Kate took the opportunity to make him twitch, giving the idea that maybe she'd relay something embarrassing, truthful or not, just for fun. She teased him the whole night—and that possibly made their act more believable.
At one point during the night, the bride, Rick's baby cousin pulled Kate aside. Somewhat startled, a choke settled in Kate's throat, worried about what to say. This girl grew up with him—what if she said the wrong thing? Something out of character, or untrue to him?
"You're Kate right?" Angela asked. Kate only nodded, seeing how eager the young girl was to continue. "I just wanted to formally introduce myself, I'm Angie. I can't believe I'm only meeting you now!"
Kate reached for words in her head, trying to remember the story her and Rick built throughout the night. "Yeah I know, me too. Rick's told me about you but it's been a while."
"I don't blame him, it's been forever since we've seen each other or talked. He's still my big brother though. He took care of me a lot when I was younger. I never had anyone look after me as much as he did."
Angie was a talker. She proceeded to tell all kinds of stories about her childhood with him, how he taught her different things and how he helped her through family struggles. If the stories had been about anyone else, she might've toned her out, but it was interesting to learn these things about him…to see his layers from someone else's view…fresh eyes.
"Well we're both very happy for you," Kate said, trying to end the conversation. The champagne had descended well into her system and she was more than ready for a trip to the restroom. As much as she liked the stories, she hoped Angie was finished.
"I'm happy for you two also," Angie responded. "I'm glad to know he's found someone to finally watch over him. It's obvious how much you care for each other. It was lovely finally meeting you," she finished with a hug. Her words received through Kate's head like a church bell, and with it, a tiny pang of ache shook her inside.
Releasing the embrace, she darted for the bathroom, half concentrated on relieving herself, half distracted by the words still ringing in her ears. It was a strange feeling. Difficult almost. More difficult than her struggle to use the toilet while wearing her weighted dress. Which proved actually very difficult.
It took her a minute to compose herself again before going out. She looked in the mirror and saw the stress in her face. Why? Why feel this way? She sighed a little bit trying to release this tension in her, shaking her head of the fuzziness going on. When she exited the bathroom, she scanned the room for him, and saw his back turned away, talking to someone over by the bar. Not wanting to interrupt, she inched her way over, slow in her steps to mute the click of her heels so as not to disturb. When she neared, she saw him talking to another man, someone of some stature, and visibly older than him. She tried to keep her distance, but she still overheard their conversation.
"She seems like a model lady," the man said. "Not anyone that should be with you though."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rick's voice edged, his tone offering a sense of threat to whatever the response would be.
"You sure she's with you for you? She seems almost too wonderful. Surely there's something wrong somewhere there." Kate felt the pinch. For herself, and for him too.
"She's not that person. She's loyal. She's braved a lot in her life, and it's a privilege to be beside her every day. She's so—giving and her heart is just—" he exhaled heavy, noting the unchanging face on the man before him. "She's perfect, so excuse yourself." The pinch loosened, a smile hung from her lips as she continued to listen.
"You said that about Meredith. As you did Gina. Please enlighten me again on what happened to both of those marriages."
"She's not them," Rick said. His undertone was so foreign to her ears. Defensive, clearly, but he sounded sincere…true to his word. "I promise you she's not. But I don't have to prove to you anything, no matter what you'll always be critical of it, my choices, my life."
"I've only wanted what's best for you Richard, you know that. Your mother does that but you need a father figure to also."
"Well you're not my father, so don't you worry about me. I know what's best for me. If you can't see that then this conversation is over."
Realizing he'd walk her way, she darted inward behind a pillar, avoiding his sight by a mere second. She watched him stalk off the other way, but waited, taking a minute or so before going back to their table.
When she arrived he did also, coming from the bride and grooms table, giving her some time to look more casual, and remove the ambivalence spread across her face. When he walked over to her, he looked worn, his face slightly sagging as he grabbed for his glass of champagne for a quick sip to perk him up.
"You wanna head out?" He asked when he set the glass back down.
"Whenever you're ready, are you okay to drive?"
"I'll be fine." His tone was flat, his usual excitement subdued. She knew he wasn't fine.
"You wanna say goodbye to your mom first?"
"She'll be fine. Her principle at these things is, 'I see you every day, don't bother me.' I just said goodbye to Angie, that's all who needs it."
Nodding with a meek smile, they walked out to travel back home, both overwhelmed with the events of the night.
—-
Much of the ride was silent, but they kept the radio going to fill it. She almost wanted to bring up the man she saw him talk to, but she knew she couldn't. She'd wait for him to move first. He eventually did when he remembered seeing her talk to Angie.
"She loves you you know, Angie. Practically raved about you when I went to say goodbye."
She just cocked half a grin, amused at the thought. "We barely talked. Well I barely talked, she went on and on about you."
Finally cracking his lips open, his eyes thinned and lips widened, a chuckle escaping him. "Should I be sorry she did that? Were you absolutely tired of her by the third story?"
Taking into consideration what he endured, she decided to lift him up a little…well deserved and needed boost. "No actually. It was actually interesting. You always tell the stories, and it was nice to hear a few about you…especially the mango story."
"I can't believe she told you that," he said immediately. "She told you that?"
"I don't think she thought anything of it, she thinks I'm your wife. Nothing would be too personal, you know?" She said with a laugh. He just shook his head, just thinking on the night as she did too. After a moment, she brought up the fall out between them. "How come you haven't seen her or talked in so long?"
His mouth thinned out, breathing in and out of his nose almost as if to calm himself, to prepare the words without poisoning himself inside as he thought it out. "It's her father, my uncle. I actually talked to him tonight—I had no plans to. It just happened. Our relationship is—rough. Growing up we disagreed on a lot of things. His intentions are there but he lacks skills as a father figure…even to Angie. That was a problem before, still kind of is."
"Well…at least you didn't pick up whatever badness he has."
"How do you mean?"
"It's just—I don't know," she said, pushing forth effort to sound aloof. "The way she loves you—the way Alexis loves you. For a guy without a father, you're a pretty good one. Really good one."
"Thank you," he said. A constant surprise, Kate Beckett. She didn't know just how thankful he was that she said that.
Kate rolled in her lips, thinking back to all the things she heard the man say…what Rick said in response. All of it, everything was overwhelming. She wasn't sure how to react to all of it. Then again, it was just for tonight. Just one night.
"And thank you," Rick started, "for being here tonight—for pulling through this whole thing." He turned to face her with easy eyes, gazing a little longer than he realized.
"That's what partners do right? It was fun anyhow, like playing house. Just one request?"
"What's that?"
She let out a laugh to lighten her words. "Never again."
—-
"You're home already?" Rick asked. When he entered the loft, he found Martha kicked back on the couch with a glass of wine, still in her wedding clothes.
"You know darling I'm starting to think you're right. I feel utterly exhausted of seeing all those Rodgers again. Don't get me wrong I had a marvelous time, but I am truly beat."
He set his coat over one of the chairs and walked over to kiss her on the cheek and take a seat next to her. "It wasn't all too bad I must admit," he said sitting back. Martha's lips widened.
"Of course you'd think that dear, you had the lovely Katherine Beckett on your arm tonight. She was a hit with the family, you know that? I had no idea you two planned that marriage thing out. Perfect!"
"Yeah…it was." He was absent, clearly musing aloud in his head, half aware that his mother was still there.
"It was very believable you know. Anyone who knew the truth might be inclined to believe there are underlying inspirations for that performance you two did," she said. He sensed her tone. She teased, but she sought for truth also. Yet, he wasn't sure he knew it completely himself.
"We just had fun. Just fun. Just for the night."