Caffeine Jolts
Kate remembers all of their coffee firsts.
The first time he made her a coffee at the precinct (she had scoffed and pretended not to want it).
The first time he brought her coffee at a crime scene (she lamented sacrificing her bear claw to shut him up).
The first time he bought her coffee after a case (she insisted to herself for weeks after that it wasn't a date).
The first time he made her coffee in her home (she wished they had been able to eat the pancakes he was making).
The first time she made him coffee in his (she told herself she was just returning the favor).
The first time he didn't bring her coffee in the morning (she felt her heart sink into her stomach).
The first time he offered her the travel cup once he was back (she had missed it and him).
The first time someone else intercepted her coffee (she made sure it was the last time too).
The first time he brought her coffee after she was shot (she wanted to kiss him then).
The first time he acknowledged that each cup wasn't just a cup but a way to make her smile (she had almost cried).
The first time she padded into his bedroom with two mugs hoping to see a smile on his face (she had been so afraid to spill).
The first time in the Hamptons as they built theory about the dead man in his pool (she had just wanted a quiet weekend).
The first time with his ring on her finger (she was sure the coffee was sweeter than ever before).
The first time in her quiet apartment in DC (she wished he could've stayed).
The first time after his disappearance sitting beside one another at the bar (she hadn't been able to stop staring at him).
The first time as newlyweds still in a giddy haze from their spontaneity (she couldn't stop sneaking kisses).
The first time she wandered into the PI office with two cups in her hand (she was so proud of him for sticking with the case).
The first day of her captaincy when her hands were barely steady (god, she wished that day had been different).
The first time he brought her usual after she left him to keep him safe (she had taken the cup to the bathroom and cried into the lid after he was gone).
The first time after she came home for good (she woke up way too early to make sure she got it close to right).
And now she can add two more firsts to that list: the first time she finds him in the kitchen of her father's cabin placing two steaming mugs on a plank of wood, ready to bring them to her (she has to take her time to get over there, but once she reaches him she curls her fingers in his hair and tugs him down for a kiss that leaves them both breathless).
The first time she vocalizes the secret she's been dying to share, the secret that opens doors to so many, many more firsts (she watches his entire being illuminate at what the request for half-caff from here on out means).
I'm slowly going through my tumblr and saving my tagfics to Word, and I just loved this one too much not to give it its own story. Thank you for reading!