I don't know if it's Hank and Kim who are just too stubborn, causing me to have a hard time telling this story. Or if it's because of all the things that are happening in my life right now. And Christmas is almost here - I'm already fully in the Christmas mood.

Chapter 9

That evening, Kim sat on her sofa for a long time, staring at the closed apartment door. Again and again she hoped that there would be a knock. That he would be standing on the doorstep. And that he would explain to her what had happened today. That he would explain his behavior to her.

She stared thoughtfully at the cup in her hand, as if the answer lay at the bottom of it. What was wrong with Hank? Why was he pushing her away?

And at some point, there was a knock that jolted her from her sleep.

It took Kim a moment to realize what she was hearing. What was there. Where she was. She had fallen asleep on her sofa. Asleep while she had been waiting for Hank. Asleep while chaos reigned in her mind.

She quickly rushed to the door, hopeful that it would finally be Hank who was at her door.

However Kim was bitterly disappointed when it wasn't Hank, but only Jay standing at the door. And apparently the disappointment was evident on her face as well.

"Hey, I would have expected more enthusiasm when your favorite colleague wants to invite you to breakfast," he said jokingly, but when he saw Kim's face, shadows flitted across his face. So Hank had done it after all. He had hurt Kim, Hank had hurt Kim - it flashed through Jay's mind.

"Breakfast?" and that's when Kim realized it was already morning. That she really had waited all night for Hank. Had been waiting in vain. And he hadn't come. Had not come to her.

"Kim, what did he do?" asked Jay.

"Who?" irritated, Kim looked at him. Her mind was still on Hank. Oh, and getting worried about him.

"Voight."

"Nothing," Kim replied. And that was even the truth. Sort of, anyway. He had done nothing, had said nothing. He was giving her the silent treatment.

"Kim," he said in a warning undertone.

"You were going to take me to breakfast," Kim changed the subject. She didn't want to talk about Hank. Not until she herself was sure what to make of Hank's change in behavior.

Jay regarded Kim for a moment and it looked like he was going to say something more. But then he decided against it. Maybe he'd have a chance later. Maybe over breakfast Kim would tell him what was going on. What Voight had done.

A little later, the two sat across from each other in the diner. In the diner where Kim and Hank had also sat together before. Kim had good memories of that diner.

"This, this was Al's favorite diner," Jay said, hoping to get a conversation going.

"He and I were here together."

Jay wasn't sure for a moment who Kim meant by HE. But he suspected it was Voight. That Kim and Voight had been here. But why? Had it been a meal among colleagues? Or was it because - no, Jay didn't want to imagine it. Kim and Voight and a date.

Jay knew he couldn't press her. Couldn't just ask her again what it was between Hank Voight and her. He wanted her to tell him about it on her terms. I mean, what was really going on between Voight and her.

Jay reached out and put his hand on the back of Kim's hand.

"Kim, you can always come to me. Always. I'm here for you."

"Thanks Jay," Kim began, "But it's all right. You're worrying about it all for nothing. Everything is fine. Really. I know what I'm doing."

Yes, maybe she knew what she was doing. But was Kim aware of the consequences? Getting involved with Hank Voight in any way was playing with fire. A game where there were only losers.

Jay was neither convinced nor reassured by Kim's words. But he would wait. He had to wait until Kim came to him. Until Voight had hurt her. And until then, he could only be a spectator - a spectator in the drama that was bound to unfold. Jay couldn't protect her!

Half an hour later, the two stood outside the diner.

"Thanks for breakfast," Kim said, turning to leave.

"Kim," Jay stopped her from walking.

"I am going to walk. Some fresh air will do me good," Kim replied. But she kept the real reason for her walk from Jay. She wanted to see Hank, wanted to check on him. Something she should have done last night. She shouldn't have let Hank push her away like that. Al, after all, wouldn't have let himself be sent away either. And she wanted to be the new Al, after all. Wanted to be a friend to Hank.

Jay looked her walk away for a moment.

He wouldn't sit idly by and watch Voight hurt Kim more and more. Jay knew what kind of person Hank Voight was. If Voight didn't exist, Al might still be alive. And Erin still here in Chicago.

Half an hour later, as Kim arrived at Voight's front door, she didn't know what was waiting for her behind the door. Would it be like the first time she had been here? The day of Al's funeral. Voight drunk and hurt. Kim didn't know.

There was only one way to find out. And so she knocked on his front door.

When Hank opened the door, Kim's worried gaze immediately slid to Hank's hand. But there was no injury. Nor was there a bottle in his hand. Relieved, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Burgess?" Actually, he wasn't surprised to see her. He'd expected her to show up at his door last night. That she would demand answers. Yesterday, she hadn't come. But now she was here. In front of his door. And she would demand answers that he would not give her. Wouldn't give under any circumstances.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Hank hesitated. He didn't want her here. He didn't want her in his house. Not again. Actually. But then he did step aside and let Kim enter.

As soon as he closed the door, Kim turned to him and looked at him for a brief moment. She was here. It was time to take the next step. To ask him the question she should have asked yesterday. Well, now Kim knew that she shouldn't have left yesterday. She should have pressed the issue yesterday. Should have confronted Hank about the change in his behavior. But now, now was the time, anyway. She would not leave until she had all the answers. No matter how long it took.

"Hank, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Hank, what happened yesterday? I've been waiting for you all night. I was worried, no I am still worried," she explained to him, "I thought you'd come over. Just like you did the other nights."

"And then?" Hank crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked questioningly at Kim. Actually, he didn't want to hear what she had to say. But then again, he couldn't manage to push her away.

"I thought you were going to explain what was going on with you. I've been worried about you. Last night you were so different. Weren't the Hank-" Kim hesitated, "You were so different from the evenings we spent together."

"I was just being me."

"No Hank. You were so different," Kim stepped right up to him and for a moment it looked like she was going to raise her hand to touch him.

Hank didn't want to hear what else Kim was going to say to him. He suspected as much. And he couldn't let her words. He wasn't allowed to. Even if part of him wished he could. To hear it.

But all the people he let get too close were hurt or found death. Camille, Justin, Olive, Erin, Al - just to name a few. He didn't want Kim to be a victim, too. A victim at his own hands. He was not a good guy. And so he took a deep breath before saying the sentence he might break her heart with, "I'm your boss, and you'd do well not to forget it."

Kim swallowed. This sentence had hurt her. And they both knew it. Still, she wasn't going to let him send her away. She was simply too stubborn for that. She had recently gotten to know a different Hank Voight, and she wanted that one back. Her friend with whom she would drink wine. With whom she had fun. With whom she had long talks on her sofa. It was a Hank Voight who needed a friend. Who needed her. And Kim needed him.

"Hank, that's not true. So, yes, you are my boss. But you're also a friend, to me. And I thought I was that to you, too. A friend. A confidante. Or whatever you want me to be for you," she made another attempt. She wasn't going to have him send her away. Well, not without a real explanation.

"Kim, please," he felt he was about to lose his cool. That it wouldn't take much more, and his feelings would burst out of him. These were feelings he couldn't even really categorize himself. Was Kim just a part of his team? A friend? Al had been a friend. But he hadn't spent long evenings on the couch with Al, drinking red wine and eating takeout. And those evenings with Kim, they felt different than the evenings he had spent with Al. More like the ones he had spent with Camille.

A few days ago, he had actually decided to keep Kim at a distance. He wanted to protect her. Protect her from what would happen to her if the criminals in Chicago realized that Kim played a role in his life. That she was an important person in his life. A friend.

But apparently Kim wouldn't let him do that. Wouldn't let him push her away. And maybe he should let it happen. That Kim wanted to be there for him, because it felt good to him. Kim was good for him.

Kim sensed that maybe she was getting through to him after all. That he wouldn't send her away after all. And so she took it a step further.

"How about I stay here for the rest of the day and we order takeout for dinner later? Chinese takeout? I'm in the mood for chicken lo mein again. Or we can cook together." Kim hoped she hadn't gone too far.

Now, Hank looked at her with an unreadable expression. Kim was unsure what his next words to her would be. Would he send her away? And then what would become of what had developed between them. Of this friendship. It would probably be over for good.

"I think it's too early for wine. But would you like some tea?" Hank finally asked.

"Sure," Kim replied with a smile.