Presents

Christmas Eve, Rick gets in bed next to Kate and hands her a thick package. "What's this?" she asks.

"Early Christmas present. Not something really appropriate to give you in front of everyone else," he replies.

She smirks, imagining something sexy or romantic, opening it carefully. When she gets inside, she finds a heavy stack of casefiles. Smiling, she says, "Paperwork! Just what I wanted. How'd you know?"

"Couldn't think of anything you'd want more."

And his words stick with her all night, long after he's deeply slumbering beside her.

She hears them all the next day, between songs and greetings and gifts.

When Alexis opens her presents, Kate sits on the floor next to her, finding the child scooting onto her lap to receive gifts as Rick grabs packages from under the tree to be unwrapped. Martha watches on happily enough, almost as eager as Alexis to receive her own gifts.

Rick is a very good gift-giver, so often finding things people wanted but didn't ask for, or remembering things they mentioned wanting once. And Kate thinks again about the present he gave her (although it's not the only one), and the fact that he thinks it's what she wants most in the world.

Her father comes to join them a little later, at this point walking pretty well, seeming more himself (or as much as he can be without his wife by his side). Jim acts genuinely happy to see Alexis, who is a wonderful distraction from sad thoughts, and he even seems pleased to see Rick, sharing a warm handshake when they meet again.

It is truly a nice Christmas Day. Meredith isn't here, although they already knew she wouldn't be, so Alexis was prepared. Drama is blessedly missing in the air.

After meals and gift exchanges (a literal team of adults working on toy assembly for Alexis), Kate goes to the kitchen for a glass of water and gazes out over the entirety of her family as they play a board game. Her father and Martha are oil and water, but they try, and they seem to almost enjoy each other's company this day. Although Martha was initially displeased with the suggestion that the day be free of alcohol (in consideration of Jim's recovery), Rick said something to her to make her more amenable, and she doesn't seem to mind too terribly, or if she does, she doesn't mention it.

Alexis is genuinely fond of Jim. When he asks about the presents she received, Alexis lists a few toys, then says as she looks at Kate, "I also asked for a real Mom last year, and I finally got her this year." Her own sense of humor coming out, the child adds, "And guess what? The one he got me came with my first grandpa!"

Yes, Alexis is doing an excellent job of wrapping Jim around her little finger.

Noting Kate's absence from the rest of the group, Rick leaves the game to check on her and asks, "Everything okay?"

His words from the night before still ring in her head, persisting through the merriment, and she says quite directly, "I want to get married."

"That's the plan," he agrees. "As soon as we can pick a date, get those invitations sent out, find a good caterer—"

"What are you doing next Sunday?"

"New Year's Eve? I figured the usual. What do you want to do?"

"I want to get married at the little beachfront hotel we stayed at when we first started dating. I thought maybe the afternoon of New Year's Eve. I want the cake from that little bakery near your old place, if they'll deliver up there. I don't care who caters it or what food is served, so maybe you know someone. I'd like it small. Alexis, my Dad, Martha, a few friends. Quiet, intimate, beautiful. Just us...expressing our commitment and love before those closest to us without all of those things swirling around that aren't even that important. What do you think?"

She's been hesitant to make any firm decision on their plans (she knows that), and in a few minutes, she's clearly and concisely laid out exactly what she'd like in very direct and achievable terms.

He thinks long enough to blink only twice, and then says, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Completely. As long as that's okay with you. It's less than a week, and if that's too soon—"

"I'd marry you tonight, no question," he says without hesitation.

"Dad, what are you doing for New Year's Eve?" Kate calls across the room, eyes still on Rick.

Jim is somewhat perplexed, but replies, "Maybe the cabin. Not quite sure."

"Martha?"

"A party, perhaps. I have yet to commit to a specific gathering," Martha replies.

"Alexis?" Kate queries, "You have plans? Big date? Wild party? Times Square?"

Alexis giggles and shakes her head. "No."

Rick, showing her his shared commitment to this plan, says, "Can you all clear your schedules for our wedding?"

As Jim is leaving later that evening, Kate walks him down to get a cab. "I was wondering…" she begins.

He turns and waits for the rest of whatever his daughter has to say.

"Would you be my 'Man of Honor' for the wedding?"

"What?"

"I'm so grateful that you'll be there, that you're doing better, that you're in my life. I know how hard you've worked. I can't think of anyone else I want up there as my witness, no bridesmaids or maid of honor. If you're willing to shake up tradition a little, I'd like you by my side."

"What about your friends, Maddie or Rachael—"

"Dad, that's...a different lifetime. I don't even talk to them anymore."

"You don't have any girlfriends or—"

"It's okay if you don't want to, Dad. No problem. I'm just glad you'll be there." She smiles at him, feeling a little disappointed. As the cab pulls up, she gives him a quick hug and opens the door.

"I'd be honored," he says sincerely before getting in. "Do I have to wear a really ugly suit made of that shiny fabric it seems they dress all bridesmaids in?" he jokes.

"Nope. Grey or black suit."

"I can handle that."

"Of course I'll bring a neon pink feather boa for you to wear. You know of my fondness for flair," she teases.

He chuckles, his love for his daughter obvious in his stare. "Good night, Katie," he says as he gets in the cab.

After Kate goes back up to the loft, she swings by Alexis's room where Rick is putting her to bed. "G'night," Kate says to the child, hugging her before she heads out of the room.

"I really did ask for real Mom last year," Alexis says with a wide grin.

"One thing doesn't make sense…" Rick begins. "If Santa got you a real mom, why'd he bother bringing all these other presents? Isn't that enough? Maybe we should send them all back."

Alexis just scowls, brow furrowed with disapproval.

"Okay, you can keep them," he relents.

"I already told my teacher what I want next year," Alexis states. "And I can't wait."

"Planning for next year already?" Kate asks.

"Pumpkin," he cautions, shaking his head. He turns to Kate and says, "I'll be down in a minute."

When Rick joins Kate in their bedroom, he asks, "You absolutely sure you're ready to get married in less than a week?"

"Too sudden?" she responds.

"No. Not at all. But we haven't set any firm plans for months, and in the space of thirty seconds, those decisions seemed so easy. What flipped the switch?"

"I just remembered what's important," she answers at first. Then she follows up with something he believes to be more to the point, "Do you know what you said last night when you gave me my present?"

"Merry Christmas?" he guesses.

"You said you couldn't think of anything I wanted more than case files. All day I kept thinking about that. How sad is that?"

"You want something else?"

"It was a great gift, I'm very appreciative. But there are things I want more. You, our life and all the things to come. I want that so much more than any case file. I've become so focused that it seems like the only things I care about are these cases."

"I didn't mean it like that. You already have us. I meant the files are the one thing you don't already have that you want."

"But I don't want to be so focused on finding answers out there that I forget what I have right here. I'm ready for this, for the wedding, for us to move forward."

"I won't pretend to be disappointed," he replies.

"Good," she smiles sort of shyly. She speaks rather quickly as she says, "I spoke to Dad earlier...got the number for the counseling center he goes to."

"Okay. Everything alright?" Rick asks. And he's cautious here. He's suggested several times that she may want to see a therapist to talk about her mother's murder, to deal with some of her feelings and the pain he suspects still swells within her no matter what else goes on in her life, but she's never seemed to seriously entertain the suggestion before.

"I want to be a good partner to you, a good mom to Alexis."

"You've already got that in the bag."

"You know, I tell myself I'm smart to be on the alert. I'm cautious, careful, aware, pragmatic. And I am those things, mostly. But I'm also afraid. And I hate that. I need to find a way to still be the guardian and protector I want to be, but do it without the fear and the predictions of catastrophe. That's what it is, Rick. I worry constantly that something will happen to her or you. I need to do something so I don't have these horrible images overlaying every moment I have. It's not fair to you or Alexis. It's not fair to me. I need to figure out how to be vigilant and careful without letting it take over."

"Okay," he nods his head, feeling downright ebullient, but trying to tone down his reaction to supportive levels. "What can I do?"

"I don't know when the appointments will be."

"We'll make it work."

"And just...be patient with me. I want things, normal things. But I don't want to give up on finding answers."

"You don't have to."

"But I want..."

"What do you want?" he asks as she wrestles her thoughts, his hand resting on her back as he waits.

"I want to have kids, two more, I think," she confesses like the admission surprises even her.

"You do?"

"Yea. With you."

"I was really hoping since we're getting married that you'd at least consider me as a potential father, but I didn't want to count my offspring before they've hatched," he teases.

"You know what I mean."

"This...isn't because of Alexis and what she told her teacher or—"

"No. I love that kid, but a decision like that is serious, not something you do as a present. It's something I want. If you do, too."

"Yea," he nods.

She grows more somber when she adds, "I'm not ready right now. I have a lot of work to do. That stuff I told you about bringing kids into this world, it's still true. I still feel that way. So I'm not there yet, but I want to get there. I want to get to a place where I believe there's enough good out there outweighing the bad so bringing a baby into the picture doesn't seem like an act of cruelty. So I think I need to talk to someone. A therapist or...something like that. I need to look at what's happened and try to...work through it all."

"I think that's a really good idea."

"Yea. I think so, too. You know what else is a good idea?" she asks.

"Changing the batteries in your smoke detectors twice a year?" he jokes as she pulls back the covers and slips her knee over his thigh, settling on his lap and kissing his chin.

She shakes her head.

"Saving the equivalent of three months' salary in an emergency fund?" he ventures, his eyes following as she pulls off her nightshirt and reveals her bare torso.

"Not what I was thinking," she replies, taking his shirt as well and bringing the heat of her body to his.

His arms curl around her, and he asks, "Cuddling under the covers skin-to-skin to stave off the cold just in case the furnace breaks?"

"Close enough," she chuckles.

As clothes are removed and greater contact granted, he says in the voice that betrays his excitement, "Or maybe you wanted to celebrate picking a date for our wedding?"

"Maybe," she replies, her lips meeting his, the kiss tender and sweet for only a few seconds before passion sparks and tenderness is replaced with urgency.

As he slides into her, her hands grasping at his shoulders, his touch swooping over her skin, she affirms resolutely, "I want you."

She pulls back just enough that her eyes meet his, conveying the truth that she's not just talking about desire in this moment, but of a much greater longing and need. "I know," he affirms with shared resolve. "Trust me...I know. I want you, too."

Those words find their way into the world several more times that night. Kate gets a little more lost with him this time than she has lately, leaving responsibilities and worries behind, even if just for a little while. She moans her excitement loudly enough that he places a finger over her lips, whispering a chuckled, "Shh," to remind her they aren't alone in the loft tonight.

It is so exciting that she still feels this passion, this enthusiasm for them. Here they find that shared fervor and devotion and freedom, too carried away to be patient or mindful. And in the waning moments of this collision, they're left to feel adored, reaffirmed, connected.

He silently vows as his head clears to maintain that spark between them, to try to keep these frenzied encounters alive, to give them chances to shake off stress, share their physical connection, forget schedules and obligations, and give her temporary relief from the weight that hangs upon her too often. And since this relationship is going to persist and prevail through the years, that will, at times, take effort.

He wishes she'd stay in his arms naked a little longer when she reaches for her clothing to get dressed before falling asleep in case their slumber is ambushed by a child. She can either hear his thoughts, or is thinking the same thing, because she says, "After the wedding, I'd like at least a night completely alone with you so I don't have to get dressed. It's nice sleeping with you like that sometimes."

"Oh, definitely. I thought we'd stay at the hotel where we're getting married, have Mother and Alexis have some girl time together so we can have some finally married time together."

"Sounds good."

"I will take you on the perfect honeymoon. I just don't have it quite planned yet because—"

"I sprung this all on you," she interrupts. "Don't worry, we don't need a honeymoon."

He gasps loudly, shaking his head, "Oh…we need a honeymoon. And we will have one, a perfect one. But, might have to wait a few weeks."

"Yea," she nods agreeably.

"But let me do the planning for that one, part of my gift to you."

She stoops by the bed after she's dressed, picking up the case files that were knocked off the nightstand at some point. (They've still got it!)

Rick gets up, his body loose and tired in a way that only really fantastic sex can create. He assists her, trying to put papers and pictures in a neat pile, hopeful, so hopeful that she'll follow through, get some help, try to really deal with all that's happened and what it's done to her. He doesn't remember planning how to make things work before his first marriage, but this time, he's trying to think of ways to keep his relationship with Kate alive and well.

When they're nearly done reassembling the strewn pieces of these files, he recognizes the background in one. "God, I miss that place," he mentions.

"What place?" Kate asks.

He taps the top picture, "This place in Jersey. Terrible neighborhood." Almost to himself, he says, "I hope Alexis is never crazy enough to go places like this when she's older." Then, like he's speaking to Kate again, he adds, "Used to go there sometimes on the weekends during my senior year of high school. Downstairs was a pizza shop. Pizza sucked."

"I can see why you miss it," she sarcastically comments. "So why leave New York, where you practically trip over a great pizza place no matter where you are, to go to a place in a terrible neighborhood in Jersey where the pizza sucked?"

"Because upstairs, there was a bar," he turns the picture toward her. "This bar met all of young me's stringent criteria."

"Which were?"

"Really cute girls and the bartenders would serve me."

She giggles but says, "Sounds lovely. But this is a different place. It isn't in Jersey. It's in Hunts Point."

"No, I'd recognize the ceiling anywhere. And the crackled edge on the mirror and the weird gargoyle-esque carvings...those were over the bar. This place is in Jersey."

"Michelle Nelson was a real estate agent assisting in a multi-property sale in the Bronx. This building among them. This is where she worked the day she died. They found her dead that evening in the basement of a corner convenience store in Midtown a few blocks away from her firm's head office."

Some idea strikes him, and he says, "I heard this old place was shut down a couple of years ago. Some industrial developer, had a strange logo...wanted to buy the building my old hangout was in for warehouses or something, I'm not sure exactly what it was. They got into some legal trouble after the sale, so the building's just sitting there empty, at least last I heard."

"Weird logo?" Kate asks. She tears through documents and photos, looking for the one she seeks, finally fetching the computer from the office, bringing it back to their room, and doing an internet search. "This developer?"

"Yea," he confirms as he studies the screen. "How'd you know?"

"It was all over the news. They were suspected of involvement in sex trafficking around the time of Michelle's death. I remember Mom mentioning it, people talking about ways to keep this group out of our city. They were under investigation in Jersey and were looking for other locations to conduct their business. I wonder if they contacted Michelle or someone at her firm about potential properties. Maybe she saw or heard something that made her look into things. Or...someone from law enforcement reached out to her."

As much as he wants Kate to have things in her life besides these devastating realities, he's just as excited about looking at this case as she is. After all, part of what would make the world a better place would be finding the answers to unsolved crimes.

They spend the rest of the night putting together the evidence as they see it, laying out the story of a real estate agent who got tangled up in the illegal operations of unscrupulous people. And there's enough evidence to make this theory worth looking into.

Neither sleep that night, the excitement of one feeding the other, the thrill shared.

About an hour before dawn, with pictures Rick printed off the internet of the building he knew in his youth, compared to the crime scene photos, a case laid out all through their office, and timelines and suspect information on the smartboard, they step back and stare at the work they've done.

"We should take this to Roy," Kate notes, mentioning one of Rick's poker group buddies she's developed a friendship with. Detective Montgomery has just been named a Captain in the NYPD.

"I should probably mention…Roy may not exactly be thrilled with my methods of casefile procurement," Rick hesitantly explains.

"I'll handle that," she says. "Don't worry. He'll listen. I'm sure if there's a murder committed that the NYPD was unable to solve but a college student and a novelist figured out, he's going to want to look into that. Still some more work to be done, but...I think we cracked it."

"Oh, I know we cracked it," he notes. "See, sometimes the answers come when you're not even looking for them. He watches her, absorbing the warmth of her affectionate gaze, and then he adds, "Sorry it wasn't your mother's case."

Kate shakes her head and says, "To Michelle Nelson's family, this is the only case that matters. We'll find justice for Mom. But until we can, we'll help families like this one."

"I'll call Roy tomorrow, and we can show him what we found."

"Since we'll be talking to him, we could invite him to the wedding. What do you think?"

He turns to her, relieved that in spite of exciting discoveries in a case, she still wants them to move forward, that their personal lives aren't being forgotten in favor of cases. "Yea," he agrees.

The excitement of everything, of the progress they're making, the thrill of investigating and finding real answers instead of writing about finding imaginary ones, seizes him. He balls up his fists, then points at the work they've done and proclaims, "That...was...awesome!"

At first she turns, calmly studying. Then her stoic gaze falters, and she grins back, "I know! Babe, I think we can do this."

"I know we can," he agrees. He looks back at the board, happily stating, "God, I love the holidays."