Disclaimer:I own nothing and no one but i spent a great majority of my night groaning the name of this story at my laptop screen after i watched the last two episodes. I still have faith, and hope but I unapologetically needed fluff and maybe some giggles so this was born.
Prologue.
An Interlude.
She is given a brief respite from the stupidity when she is called away, phone chirping in her pocket. It's nothing important, a confirmation for dinner plans with a friend, but she uses it to escape. She just can't face the absence of lingering looks any longer, she shakes her head and sighs.
It's getting beyond a joke, this miscommunication, these interruptions and distractions. She growls, thrusting a hand through her hair as she strides away. Feet moving fast so she can distance herself.
She has to get away from it for a few minutes, just to collect herself, before her anger spills out. Focusing hard because she doesn't want to do something drastic and embarrass herself, or anyone else.
She can see the truth of it, obviously, that the blonde is nothing more than a distraction. It doesn't make it any less annoying, painful even, but she can see it.
It's pathetic.
And the soul searching, oh god, there has been more than enough questioning of self and motives and timing to last a lifetime.
Waiting for the perfect moment is moronic, not to mention impossible. Nothing and no-one is perfect, of all people they should know this. She stomps with more force, like a petulant toddler. Who wants perfect anyway? What you need is real. Real and true and lasting and…something more than the stalled nothingness that exists at the moment.
Puffing a breath through her lips doesn't help, counting to ten does nothing, but slamming her heeled feet against the sidewalk takes away a bit of the frustration, even if she does feel ridiculous doing it.
What she needs, what they both need, is to start living . To just give in and get on with it.
"Smooch," she mutters under her breath as she circles her vehicle, "kiss him, just kiss," she throws the door wide with a satisfying crash, and starts to root through her bag "arghh have sex already."
"Lanie?" Kate hisses softly, her head appearing from behind the large door of the M.E van, "Did you just say something about having sex?"
Lanie shakes her head, smiling innocently "Nope, why would I mention sex?" She tilts her head watching her friends face. The animation of scrunched eyebrows and pursed lips. Lanie stares, focused, willing her friends eyes to do it, to dart to him over there with the bleached blonde bi...distraction. Her gaze narrowing, she can't help it, Lanie just needs this one, teeny tiny, ray of hope amidst all the...crap.
Kates eyes flick briefly sideways, she means it to be fast, hardly noticeable, but it lingers. Her eyes take him in and hold, forced to watch as he waves to the woman leaving in the Ferrari she herself has driven.
She takes in the shadows under his eyes, the smile that washes over him, too false too sharp. Like his words, no longer coated in sugar and love, in air and fun. They fall flat, bitter and hurtful.
Kate bites her tongue as she watches him, arms, that she longs to be wrapped in, raised in farewell to another woman. She tugs her lip between her teeth, inhaling sharply when he realises she's watching him.
Their gaze holds, and she thinks, hopes even, that he is about smile because his lips move and his eyes crinkle. God how she has missed that smile. Kate craves the tenderness that used to emanate from him.
But it passes.
Kate drops her eyes fast, ignoring the heat that rises in her face. It doesn't matter how he watches her, what festers behind the looks he gives her now. It still feels like he's staring straight into her heart, her soul even, as cliché as that may sound. Everything feels as though it's laid bare before the forceful penetration of his broken eyes.
Like he is privy to every deep dark secret she has ever kept buried inside.
Kate can still feel him, she knows he is still staring and the flames licking their way through her veins rise higher. Circling her chest, it squeezes tight at her heart before scalding her cheeks.
She can ignore it all she likes, but Lanie sees it, oh yes she does. Lanie chuckles softly her hand sliding over her mouth when Kate finally looks up at her in suspicious confusion.
"What?" Kate asks, reaching over the bag between them, holding out her hand for a set of gloves. She steps back as Lanie slaps the latex into her hand a little too forcefully.
"Nothing, Beckett." Lanie smiles again as she lifts the bag over her shoulder, turning on the spot. She strides off with a smile, away from her friend but speaking over her shoulder as she goes "Not a damn thing."
Lanie waits until she's out of sight, barely dipping under the police tape as she makes her way back to the body. When the door closes behind her she scans the room before fishing through her pockets, seeking out her phone, muttering under her breath.
The message she sends is simple, five words sent to all those that love them most, that care about their futures and those that have damn well had enough.
THE DUMB-ASSES NEED AN INTERVENTION!