Release Day
He always found this particular day strange; felt an odd mixture of excitement and dread. He was always optimistic but on this day there was a timid nature to it. All the months of hard work, living in this world with these characters, loving these characters. All the parts of himself, of his wife and their life together that he poured into it. His heart poured out in black and white, paper and print. How could he not be nervous about the reaction to something he cared so deeply about?
It was out of his hands now. It belonged to the world. This piece of himself. A world from the depths of his imagination that he could only hope his fans would connect with once again. It didn't matter to him whether he topped the best seller list every time, though it didn't hurt his ego. He just wanted people to enjoy his work. Sure he was known to procrastinate, that was because he found himself drawn to his muse and had since the moment they met. But once the words hit him he had to get them out. His hopes, his dreams. Their story. He cared more deeply for his work than ever before. He knew he had talent and skill. That wasn't ego. That was years of hard work and honing his craft. But still, he told himself, this was close to his heart.
Kate saw through his bravado. She always had. Had even called him on it early in their partnership. He trusted her enough to be honest in her opinion of his work, was usually the first to read it now. He knew she'd read and enjoyed his work long before any romantic attachment to it. She'd spend the day at his side, reminding and inspiring him all over again. She'd wake him up with coffee, make an attempt at coffee art to make it special for him, which would earn a smile from him. She'd hold him close and whisper words of love and adoration against his lips, show her pride and gratitude and he'd return in kind. They'd whisk off somewhere together, most likely to precinct. Solve crime together. He'd put his mind to work with her and the boys. He'd mostly like see Ryan's head buried in the new book at some point if the day was light for them all. He'd exchange words with a few of the uniforms and watch the smile on Kate's face as she saw his 12th precinct family share congratulations with them both.
Whatever they did Kate would distract him long enough for his daughter's long standing tradition of pouring through every review, every mention of the new release and forwarding him every one, reminding him of how she'd told him all along that people would love it and how proud she was of him. And his mother. Well, they played their games. He knew his mother knew how he felt on this day. That when opening day rolled around she'd get the jitters too. He knew she loved to go to a store and see the evidence of his accomplishments out in the world and people buying copies. Teasing was their way but underneath it he heard the pride in her voice and saw the love in her eyes. He even received calls from Jim Beckett to congratulate him, now the awkwardness of Nikki Heat being inspired by his daughter had passed.
Release day was a strange feeling. The pressure from his publisher, the pressure from his agent, pressure from deadlines that he never stuck to anyway, the pressure of living up to his previous works. He always felt that the new book was the best work he'd done yet. He knew when his writing was good and he never settled for anything less than great. But he also knew public opinion could be a fickle thing and he had learned not to take things for granted in his life.
His ritual now was so far removed from the panic induced isolation that he'd put himself through in the past. Now he had this incredible family to rally around and support him. A wife, daughter and mother who would always be his biggest supporters, sources of inspiration and the people he wanted to make proud. As he lay in bed, watching his muse sleep, trying to quiet his mind long enough to sleep before the big day, he was reminded all over again that as long as they were by each other's side he could do anything and with Kate as his muse he'd never be lost for words again.
He held his wife, his muse, his world a little closer and drifted to sleep.