Chapter Three

"The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep."

She took a small amount of comfort in the four walls that surrounded her. Close, but not so much that they suffocated her. Her hands rested against the wall, solid and safe, fingers splayed out with her back pressing on them. All she could hear was the sound of her own heart beating over the quiet hum of the elevator as it rose, the pounding and flutter of nervousness against the walls of her chest. It was pumping the blood in a tingling flow of utter awareness through her entire body.

When she arrived on her floor, the sudden ascent and fall of the elevator plummeted her resolve, dropping her heart into her stomach, before it settled. She had stepped away from the wall, wiped her hands over her red coat, and smoothed out her jeans.

She was not one to agonise over her wardrobe, but she hadn't known what to wear that day. She felt like whatever she put on would be statement of self, another step on the path she chose. It shouldn't matter, but it did.

She had stood in front of her closet, longer than ever before, clothes strewn everywhere before she finally found her outfit. Then she donned her red coat holstered her gun and hooked her badge to her belt.

She felt a sense of pride as the machine rose, but nothing could compare to what she felt when she heard the elevator ding announcing its arrival.

Her arrival.

Here, where she thought she was supposed to be.

The doors opened to the long stretch of hallway before her with a high pitched pang that pulled at the controlled anxiety within her. But as she was revealed to the waiting hoards, she took in a breath, it was deep and drawn out as she inhaled, pulling in all her anxiety, her fear, and exhaling her inner control.

Summoning her strength.

Collected, she stepped off, letting her determination guide her. The sound of her movements were harsh but powerful, a stable rhythm, sure and unwavering strides of her long legs. Each echoed step of her heeled feet were followed by a growing will to do what was right.

Kate knew in her heart this was the path she had to walk and for once her resolve didn't feel forced or contrived. For the first time in a long time, she felt sure.

Somehow the sharp click sent a thrill through her with each step. Her courage building with each footfall, the echo of the action the only sound she registered as she moved along.

With her eyes planted firmly on the desk, her desk, Kate made her way across the bullpen. Her spine straightening as she moved, drawing in the atmosphere of the room, flooding her senses with purpose and meaning. And though her heels were drowned out by the calls back and forth, the hum of conversation and the chiming of phones, her step nor her courage faltered.

She was here to do her job, and do it to the best of her ability.

Kate Beckett, would speak for the dead. She would be their witness, their voice that was stolen away. But, maybe more significantly, she would help families to find that peace and closure she had too long been denied.

Reaching her desk she unbuttoned her coat, the red stark amidst a sea of muted colours as she removed it, laying it over the back of her chair. Kate sat heavily in the seat, groaning as the addition of her slender form sent the already broken device sinking deeply into the floor.

Hearing snickers from behind her, Kate rose her to her feet, turning on the other Detectives rolling her eyes. "Funny." She said scrunching her lips to one side before giving in and smiling. Tentative in the action but she faced the teasing head on, she had been warned, and she was ready.

She turned slowly back towards her desk, watching the older of the two men approach her. He gestured towards the name plaque that rested by her monitor.

"Beckett right? The Captains protégé? Be careful of the drawers." He waved his hand in a broad sweep over her desktop, smiling maliciously.

She nodded preparing to embark on her first ever investigation as a Detective, learning the names of the members of her team. When a voice from behind drew her attention.

"Initiating the new guy, comes with job." The older woman stood, shrugging into her coat as she went. "I'll leave you in their capable hands." She nodded towards the rest of the group "I gotta hit the M.E's office. See what he's got for me."

"You hear he's retiring?" One of the men said falling heavily into his own chair.

"Yeah next month, another newbie." The other man snarked.

Kate felt every eye in the room suddenly focus on her, fighting the rising sense of panic. She resumed adjusting the chair, noticing a screw loose and tightening it. She kept her focus firmly away from the team rousing that continued behind her.

She belonged here, she could feel it. And as she continued to fix the chair, she caught sight of feet, heard the hush fall over the rowdy Detectives, she rose from the floor in confusion.

She turned, tried to ignore the look of disapproval he was flashing the men behind her. His voice held her attention as he stepped amongst them. The Captains demeanour changed
drastically when her looked at her. Instead of disappointment on his face at their behaviour, he was smiling widely at her. "Congratulations Detective Beckett." He said with a spark in his eyes.

Kate smiled back nodding her head. "Thank you Sir."

"Here." The Captain's hand extended with his offering, white and blue, an empty NYPD coffee mug. "We work long hours."

Kate nodded again, taking the ceramic cup and turning it over in her hands, her fingers seeking the warmth it lacked.

"It's a tough job Beckett." The Captain pointed towards the mug again, "I have a feeling you'll make good use of it."