Rick woke with a start, his heart pounding as he took in his surroundings. The room was dim, brightened only by the city's lights making their way through unfurnished windows. He fumbled on the nightstand for his watch.
Six am. The city was only just starting to wake up, the sun not yet peeking into each of Manhattan's neighborhoods. He had time to get home before his daughter awoke and missed him, but only just.
His gaze fell on the woman sleeping beside him, and for a moment he was tempted to stay; Alexis would be fine with Meredith all morning, and if Meredith needed him, well, his phone was on.
Wasn't it?
He frowned as competing thoughts rushed through his head; the location of his phone was almost definitely connected to the location of his jeans pocket, but when he thought about his pants he couldn't help but think about the way Kate had unfastened them, while his own hands had been busy unzipping her dress-
Last night had been amazing.
More than amazing.
Last night had been everything he hadn't known he'd needed; freedom, reprieve, fun. And sex. Mind blowingly good sex. For all that his playboy image had its basis in reality, he was not getting lucky as regularly as the tabloids implied.
Focus. Phone. Focus. He cast a regretful look at Kate before swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress and following the trail of clothing from the foot of the bed to the living room.
Jeans. Success. He reached into the pocket for his phone, blinking to bring the screen into focus. No new messages or missed calls; evidently Alexis was fine.
He pulled his pants on, then his shirt, padding back into the bedroom to retrieve his watch and fastening it to his wrist. In the first strains of daylight Kate looked younger than she had in the bar, younger than she had when he'd taken her to bed, and he blinked, wondering just how old she was. Last night he'd taken her for late twenties, but perhaps she was younger. Slack with sleep, she was relaxed in a way that he hadn't seen when they'd-
He swallowed, remembering.
"Your place or mine," she'd hummed into his ear as they'd finished their drinks, and he'd played it down, trying to give the illusion that his place was further away than hers - which, as it turned out, was true, but only just - so that he didn't have to explain the ex-wife situation to a stranger. Not to mention the fact he was yet to bring anyone home when Alexis was there.
"Oh, I live-" he'd gestured vaguely, hoping she would take his hand movements to mean he lived outside of Manhattan.
"I'm just two blocks away," she'd confessed, hair falling in her face as she dipped her head.
He'd nodded, taking her offered hand, and letting her lead him out of the bar.
And then-
He closed his eyes.
So, so good. God, it had been great; he wasn't clear how they'd made it to the bed, but the recollection of lying satiated in one another's arms for several minutes before Kate had stood, tugging at his hand and leading him into the bathroom for a shower and round two was clearer.
And now he wanted round three. He sighed, weighing up his options. He could wake her, but... He shook his head. He couldn't. It was barely dawn on Sunday morning, and much as it pained him to leave without saying goodbye, he needed to get back to his daughter.
Inching toward the bedroom door again, he kept his eyes on Kate; if she would just wake of her own accord...
She remained motionless, and he ran his hand through his hair as he stood in the exit, before turning away from her.
It had been one night; he'd needed it, and so - he thought - had she. He'd leave his details, that would have to be enough. A pen and paper lay on the counter in the kitchen and he scrawled his cell phone number onto it before taking a last look around.
He'd missed the details last night, but now he saw her place more clearly he wondered if his first guess about her age was more accurate. Most people in their early twenties had roommates in tiny apartments; Kate had an expansive one bedroom in the East Village, eclectic yet expensive taste on display. She had to be in her late twenties. He pictured her a lawyer, the hard steel determination he'd glimpsed last night would serve her well in a courtroom.
Then again. He shrugged, letting himself out of the apartment and guiding the door closed behind him. Perhaps she was young. Perhaps she wasn't a lawyer, but a trust fund baby.
He would never know; the one certainty he had was that she wouldn't call.
The bitterness that filled his mouth at that sudden truth was an unwelcome surprise.
...
Kate stirred at the sound of the door closing, and she forced her eyes open, turning to look at the empty space beside her.
So he was gone.
That was probably for the best; last night had been great - she closed her eyes as she remembered just how great - but it was over. She would never see him again. He was just a guy, she was just a girl, and even if she, personally, didn't do one night stands as a rule, people hooked up all the time, no strings attached.
For once, last night, she'd been no different. She'd had exactly the night she'd set out to have; freedom and fun. Now it was over. Today she was Beckett again.
She groaned. If she was Beckett again, that meant it was time to get up, work out, and get back to her studies.
She buried her face down into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the world.
Maybe she could pretend to be Kate for another hour or so.
...
Rick slid his key into his lock as quietly as possible, swinging the door open and walking into the loft; he toed his shoes off before he could make any noise, and took a step toward his room, only to be barreled into from behind.
"Daddy," squealed his eight year old. "Where have you been?"
"I, uh- what are you doing up already?" he countered, unable to think of an excuse on the fly.
"It's almost seven and you said you would make pancakes for breakfast," Alexis reminded him, and he nodded.
"I was just going out to get some maple syrup," he lied. "But I forgot my wallet."
"We have maple syrup, Dad," she said, tugging on his hand and leading him into the kitchen. She pulled open the pantry door with a huff and pointed. "On the top shelf. See?"
"I see." He blinked. "Well, in that case, I'm going to take a quick shower, then we'll make pancakes, okay? Where's Mom?"
Alexis gave him a strange look. "In your room?"
"Right. Ah- right." He grimaced. He hadn't even been here, yet Meredith was still managing to send their daughter the wrong message. "I'll just go see if she's awake."
He turned, clenching his fists as he steeled himself, unwilling to let Alexis see the anger he knew was flaring in his eyes.
He trudged into his bedroom, sighing as he caught sight of his ex-wife sprawled out in his bed. This would have been welcome, so many times in the past - her long red hair tangled, the swell of her breasts visible beneath the sheets - but today it left a bad taste in his mouth, and he closed his eyes, letting other images wash away reality.
Kate, in her bed, dark locks fanning her face as he rose above her. Her green eyes darkening as he took her again in the shower, her taste intoxicating. The lithe figure she'd made as she gave in to sleep, her slender form strong and defiant.
He would wake Meredith, fake his way through a cheery pancake breakfast, and then send her on her way.
He'd come home for Alexis; that was what he needed to keep reminding himself.
But as he stepped forward, placing his hand on Meredith's shoulder to rouse her, he was left longing.
What ifs flew through his mind; perhaps they'd have made love - at that he corrected himself, one night stands were sex, not love making, no matter how in sync they'd been - or maybe they'd have shared an awkward breakfast.
Maybe she'd have thrown him out, demanded he leave, or perhaps they could have curled up on her sofa, exchanging soft glances and longing looks until she'd shared with him, not just her body, but herself.
He found himself all too curious; she wouldn't call, but if she did-
"Hey, kitten." Meredith's voice jarred him from his longing, and he blinked, focusing on his wife's face and refusing to let his eyes wander further south, even as she stretched, letting the sheet fall from her. "Walk of shame?"
His cheeks warmed as fury flooded his veins, and he glared at her.
If only he'd stayed at Kate's.