"Oh my God."
Esposito looked up to see Kate standing in the doorway of the break room, her mouth comically hanging open as she stared at him. He hadn't checked himself out in the mirror yet, but he knew that it couldn't be a pretty sight. The brawl had been a major one, taking six other cops to pull the men apart.
Hotheaded Hispanics were a stereotype, and it was one he normally tried to stay out of. He was passionate about his job, passionate about the people he cared about, but he always tried to keep a hold on his emotions. He tried to be the logical one. The calm one.
It hadn't worked this time.
"Hey," he said, wincing at the pain that shot through his face.
Mouth still hanging open, she came into the room and shut the door behind her. "What the hell happened."
"Had a disagreement."
"With what? A battering ram?"
She pulled a first aid kit out from one of the cabinets and set it down next to him. He watched as she opened an antiseptic wipe, caught up in the way she just came in and started taking care of things. Her left hand came up and gently cupped his chin before she began cleaning his cuts. Her touch was light, and he found himself closing his eyes and sighing.
"It was Morrison."
Kate stilled her motions. "What?"
"The fight. It was with Morrison."
She took a deep breath and sighed, shaking her head as she continued to clean his wounds. "Morrison is an ass. I thought you knew better than to let his insults get to you."
She sounded genuinely disappointed in him, and he found himself needing to make her understand.
"He wasn't insulting me."
Kate had to force herself not to react. She knew Morrison's other favorite subject of torment, but she thought he had finally given it up when she hadn't risen to the bait.
"Javi..."
He swallowed hard when she used his first name, licking his lips and meeting her eyes for only half a second.
"There are some things you just don't say. Not about a woman."
She put a bandage over the cut on his forehead, letting her fingers drift across his skin for a moment. He kept his eyes locked on a spot over her right shoulder, struggling to keep his hands still, his mouth shut. But then he could feel the heat of her breath, and her lips were pressed to his brow. His hands came up of their own volition, almost coming to settle on her hips.
And then she pulled back.
And he dropped his hands.
"You're a good man, Javi," she said quietly. "Come out for drinks with us."
He didn't have to ask who she meant. He wanted to say no. He wanted to disappear to his apartment where he wouldn't have to explain to every person who walked by what had happened. He didn't want to come up with evasions and quick answers. He wanted to drink scotch and wrap himself in silence.
But that wasn't who he was. At least not to them.
So he gave her a tired smile and nodded. "Sure."
He watched her pack the kit back up and put it under the cabinet once again. As she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder at him, her lips quirking up.
"You coming?"
He nodded, sliding off of the table and staring at the floor for a long minute. He wished he had a better answer. But since he didn't, he simply followed her out the door.