A/N: I am actually republishing this story. There have been edits made. Text that has been italicized is a flashback, and text that has been bolded is from the show. I am merely borrowing characters besides though that are not recognized.
A/N: This chapter does hint at sexual themes. Though it does not go into detail. This is a warning.
"I forgot how beautiful it was out here," Kathleen says as she exits Luke's car and looks around at the property. "I still can't believe that you found this."
"I got lucky," he says as he grabs their bags. "It took some fixing up but was too good of an investment to turn down."
"True," she says as she looks at the lake that was a few minutes from the lane. "I still can't believe we got away this weekend."
"Pure luck," he says as he drops the bags by the door and wraps his arms around her center. He places a kiss on her cheek as he takes in the fresh air. "Sometimes I swear I am going to move out here permanently."
"You'd get bored," she says smiling as she leaned into his hold. "It is a good retirement plan, though, always nice to have one."
"That is true," he says as he places his head on her shoulder. He places a few strategically placed kisses on her neck. "Are we staying in for dinner or going out?"
Kathleen gradually feels the tension fade away as she feels Luke's hands massage her hips. "Hmm, how about we stay in tonight and go out tomorrow?"
"Sounds perfect," he says as he leans down and kisses her. Kathleen moves in his arms, so they are facing each other, and kisses him back. "We should move this inside?"
"Yeah, I'm sure your boss would love that phone call," she says as she backs away from and he unlocks the door. She follows him in before he drops the bags on the other side of the door and pulls her back into his arms.
"I've missed you," he says, kissing her as he pulls her towards the back of the cabin. He places his hands on her hips as he plays with the hem of her t-shirt. "I've come up here a few times, and the place seemed so empty and lonely without you here."
"That's because this place is supposed to be enjoyed by two," she says before kissing him. "Unless you want solitude, which is rare."
"You know me so well," he says as he pulls her t-shirt off of her. He notices the dark emerald green lacy bra with ties in the front. "Have you been updating your wardrobe while we were apart?" as he nibbles on her neck.
"Possibly," she says as she steps back from him and puts her hands on the hem of his t-shirt. "A girl had to do something with her free time."
"What else did you do with your free time?" Luke asks as she removes his shirt. "Do anything fun or interesting?"
"I was thinking about taking a summer photography class," she says as she places her hands on his hips. "Gail got me a pretty interesting birthday present."
"Should I ask?" he asks as he traces the outline of her bra? "Does it have anything to do with these or your renewed passion for photography?"
"It has something to do with it," she replies as she places her hands on his belt. "It was a giant confidence booster that renewed something I thought I lost."
"What was that?" he asks as he traces the swell of her breast and runs his hands down her sides. "What was it you thought you lost?"
"I thought I lost my ability to be spontaneous, to live on the edge or at the moment," she says as she undoes his belt. "Missing the ability to go out and not care about what anyone thinks about what I do. Do you remember the first time we met?"
"I do," he says as runs his hands down her sides. "Why did you bring that up? Was that the first time you have done something like that?"
"The first time I got caught doing something like that," she says as he moves onto the button of his jeans. "We got into a few underage parties or clubs. It was the first time that I ever felt that sense of freedom for daring to defy everyone I knew."
"Ah," he says as he reaches for the button on her jeans. "What made these feelings come back to life?"
"Gail found a photographer in the city that did boudoir photos," she says as she unbuttons his jeans. "It was quite fun. It reminded me of that feeling from the club."
"Boudoir photos," he asks as his hands stop and he looks at her. "As in lingerie or naked photos? Is that what we are talking about here?"
"I explained boudoir as a photographic style featuring intimate, sensual, romantic. It is sometimes erotic images of its subjects. The images a set in a photographic studio, bedroom, or private dressing room," she says looking at him. "What's wrong with lingerie or naked photos?"
"I am shocked," he says as he looks at her. "It seems like something completely out of your usual element of things to do."
"Exactly," she says, looking at him. "It was so invigorating to the senses. It was nerve-wracking at the beginning, but Taylor was so comforting and it made a difference."
"Hmm," he says as he looks at her. "Do I get to see the shots?"
"Depends on how good you are," she says as undoes the zipper of his jeans. "Who knows? Perhaps I can convince you to do a couple's shoot?"
"They do those," he asks, surprised.
"Yup, they do," she asks as she slips his jeans down his legs. "They also do bridal, maternity, and something known as fine art and kink."
"So, you're thinking of doing more shoots," he asks as his hands undo the button on her jeans.
"Hmm," she says as he steps out of his jeans. "As I said, it was an excellent pick me up. Something that I did for me but can share with others."
"Define others," he says as he unzips her jeans. "Like you and your girlfriends from work, or…"
She shimmies out of her jeans as she looks at him and says, "I don't know. Definitely, girlfriends, may a few of the guys, and some co-workers. Why are we getting jealous?"
"That depends on the photos," he says as he places his hands on her hips. He plays with the top of her lace-panelled emerald green panties. He pulls her taut against him as his fingers trace designs on her hips.
"Hmm," she moans as he places kisses along her neck. "I almost forgot you don't enjoy sharing with others."
"I enjoy sharing," he says between kisses as he moves to the crook of her neck. "I don't enjoy sharing certain areas of my life."
"Hmm," she says as she notices the trail of clothing they have left.
They had finally reached the master bedroom, with Luke leading them in backwards. He was still placing kisses along her neck and adding one to her collarbone or nibbling at the crook of her neck.
"Luke," she moans as he picks her up into his arms and she wraps her legs around his hips. He nips at the crook of her neck before running his tongue along the area. "Tease," she moans under her breath as she rubs her hips against his.
He groans before walking them over to the bed in the centre of the room. He lowers her on the bed as he sucks on the crook of her neck.
"Luke, please," she pleads, as she grinds her hips against his.
He groans as he reaches down and hooks her panties between his index fingers. He drags them down as he places kisses along her stomach, her hips, and her legs.
Kathleen pants as she curls herself into Luke's side. She notices as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer to him. "Wow."
Luke grins as he places a kiss on her forehead. "You said it."
She smiles as she places a kiss on his heart. "Not how I expected us to start our weekend."
"Tension builds and needs to be released. That doesn't mean that I didn't miss you these last couple of months. Every time a new victim appeared, I kept picturing that this time it was going to be you. All the victims were of Irish descent with red hair and lived on the ground floor. They are all athletic and have university degrees from Ryerson. This guy had a type, and I kept waiting for something to happen. I thought the closer I got to catch this guy, the more danger you would be in because you fit his type."
"I get it," she says as she pushes her upper body to look at him. "I'll stop by the hospital to discuss our care with someone. The next thing I hear is a cop is being brought into the ER with life-threatening injuries or a cop is being brought in. I'll get a call that I have to go talk to someone who now has fatal injuries from working on the job. I'll work with retired cops who are on their last legs after battling alcohol or drugs and are now dying. Or a businessman who's now reflecting on how much of his life with his family he missed because of working so hard.
"We picked a set of intensely stressful jobs. We've both seen solid relationships fall apart because of what we do in our professional lives. I've seen my aunt and uncle fight like cats and dogs because of the cases in that they are working on. The pushing me away because the victim reminds you of me or thinking I am going to be on a list doesn't help us make this last. I've been there and done that with my dad and I'm not looking to do it again."
"You're right, pushing you away wasn't my smartest move. Dedicating all my time and energy wasn't either. That was the first time that I saw a victim and had to do a double-check and make sure it wasn't you. I can still hear Barber telling me you were fine because Swarek was already over there. I saw her and my only thought was you. That scared me, and it wasn't me, as you know."
"Trust me, I got that part. The number of times a cruiser would pass my apartment or by my work. I swear it felt like there was a manhunt and I was the prime suspect. I can also imagine what it would have been like if I chose that job with family services instead."
"A blessing in disguise is what Boyko was calling it. I remember him grilling me every time we crossed paths if I knew what offer you were taking. It didn't matter the number of times I told him I didn't know, he would still ask."
"That was on top of him texting me every couple of days. I enjoyed my placement there, but it didn't have the connection I was used to. My Dad talked me out of getting my criminology bachelor with my social work. He explained something like not wanting me to be resented because he put them away."
"What made you volunteer with the hospice?"
"Grumps, Uncle Bill's grandfather, the second generation of Pecks to join the force. Uncle Bill's family always treated my family like we were part of it. All the holidays were us three Boyds and the group of Pecks. I was about 11 when we noticed that something was wrong with Grumps. He was turning more and more yellow. We noticed it a little, but then it took over his body. They had diagnosed him with stage 2 pancreatic cancer. The doctors told him he would have surgery, radiation and chemo. We would most likely get about another 2 years if we were lucky."
"Grumps was like most of the Peck family. He was resilient, stubborn, and determined. He entered the hospice when I was 14. His cancer had spread and was now in his liver and gallbladder and spreading. They said within six weeks to 18 weeks it would spread to his brain. Gramps decided Kensington was the best place for him. They also had a lot of vets and first responders. He would be with others who lived a similar life. Gail and I would go every afternoon and listen to stories from him, the other cops, and vets. We lost him about 8 weeks after we brought him there. He died in his sleep. At the time I was recording the stories I had heard from the other hospice members, we had lost a few by that point. One day, about a month after he passed, Gramps called me to his house. The coordinator at the Hospice had called and wanted to know if I wanted to continue my work."
"It took me a few weeks to think about it. When I remembered the faces of someone who was listening to these people talk about their lives. I shared stories with their family members in the halls when we would pass each other. It took me a while to get in the groove of things. I had Melanie, my current boss, who was Grumps's social worker, and told me she had suggested this as a way for me to heal. From that day on, I was torn between wanting to help people like she did and helping people as my mom did. In the end, I found it more rewarding to help people at the end of their lives. I helped them accept their fates and remind them of the amazing things they did with their lives."
"Wow, I can't believe that we've been together this long, and I didn't know any of this. I always thought you chose it because it was too heartbreaking for some situations you find kids in."
"It was, but I took what Grumps was telling Steve to heart. Your job should extend who you are. It should flow into your already hectic days. It should blend with the other areas of your life and you shouldn't have to force yourself to get up and do it. It should come to you."
"That makes complete sense," he says as he looks into her eyes.
