BURNING FLAMES OR PARADISE
CHAPTER FOUR
SHAKE IT OFF

Shake it off
Shake it off


MARCH 2007

It wasn't a date.

She'd been repeating it to herself for days, since she'd run into Rick outside the coffee shop and one coffee had turned into two, and turned into a night in bed she didn't think she'd forget for a long time.

But it wasn't just the sex she kept thinking about. It was the man himself, the I missed you he'd muttered in her ear as they moved together, his whispered plea after to tell him about herself. He wanted to know more about her, she knew, but she was wary of getting too close to anyone.

Her mom's murder still haunted her, still kept her awake at night. But when her dad had checked himself into rehab three years prior, she realized that the case would destroy her. So instead of pouring her energy into the case that had led her to become a cop, she used it to find justice for others.

She wasn't relationship material; an outsider would call her a workaholic, and they'd be right. She often skipped meals and crashed in the break room or on her couch when she had a case. It was her way of making up for the inability to get her mom's true killer. But she also had a minimal social life, just the occasional night out when Lanie practically forced her.

And booty calls, she thought to herself one night in early March, as Rick slumbered next to her in a nondescript hotel room. He'd called her a few hours before, asked if she wanted to get a drink. She'd said no, she didn't want the drink (it felt too much like a date, and they weren't dating), but she did want to see him. So they met at the hotel, where slightly awkward greetings had led to what they did best.

A glance at the alarm clock told her it was late, and she was on call the next day, so the wise thing would be for her to go home. But she couldn't bring herself to sit up, or even move.

Her last thought before she drifted off to sleep was that it was nice, having someone next to her. Maybe a relationship wouldn't be all that bad.

"Kate? Kate, wake up."

She forced her eyes open at the light shake of her shoulder, and she turned her head to see Rick hovering over her. "Hmm?"

"Your phone's ringing."

"Oh." Kate rubbed at her eyes as she sat up and reached for her phone. "Beckett." As soon as her last name slipped out of her mouth she winced. Well, there went their unspoken first-name-only agreement. As she listened to the details of a body drop, she felt Rick get out of bed and, a moment later, heard the bathroom door click shut.

She was just gathering her clothes when Rick emerged from the bathroom, and she slipped past him, clothes in her arms. The crime scene was just a few blocks away, so there was no point in going home. She'd just hope nobody realized she was wearing the same outfit two days in a row.

Rick was perched on the end of the end of the bed when she came back out, hair wet from her quick shower. "Beckett, huh?" he asked, lips raised in a smirk.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Yes. Don't wear it out."

"I think it's hot."

"You think my name is hot?" She buttoned her pants, then went to work putting her hair in a messy braid. "I'm sure that'll go over well with my dad."

"No." Rick jumped up and started tugging his clothes on. "Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. The way you barked your name in the phone, all authoritative. That's hot." His eyes swept the room, and he patted his pockets before following her out the door.

"What are you doing?" Kate asked, stopping just past the threshold.

Rick shrugged. "No point in me staying here without you." He acted like an overactive kid when they were waiting for the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands in his pockets. "Robbery?"

"Huh?"

"Your department. Are you in Robbery? Homicide?" He gasped and his eyes widened. "Vice. Please, tell me you're in Vice and you have to go undercover someplace that requires minimal clothing. That would be so hot."

"Sorry, Rick, no such luck." She pressed the button for the ground floor and leaned against the back wall of the lift. "Can we not do the personal connection thing?" she asked after a long moment of silence.

Rick joined her at the back of the elevator, his arm brushing against hers. "Why? You know about me." When she just stared at him, he shrugged. "I know you know who I am, Kate. I want to know who you are, not just what you like in bed."

"Rick-" She was interrupted by the ding of the elevator as it reached the ground floor, and she stepped out without looking at him. She knew the look he'd be giving her; it was the same look she saw the previous times she'd slipped out of the hotel room before him.

It was a look of longing. Of a silent plea to stay. A look she ignored every time.

"I have to go, Rick," she said once they stepped onto the sidewalk. "See you next time."


Rick couldn't stop thinking about her. Even when his daughter called him out for being distracted, his thoughts continued to be consumed by the beautiful detective who was so hellbent on keeping her distance. He craved her, but it was so much more than physical desire.

She intrigued him, in a way that no woman had. He'd always been able to read people well, a talent that had come in handy with his occupation. He made up backstories, filed away physical characteristics to use in potential books. A tourist wearing glasses could become the leader of a nefarious spy ring, who used his appearance to slip by unnoticed.

But Kate was different.

He didn't want to make up her story. He didn't want to know a fictional version of her, he wanted to know the real her.

If she'd return his calls.

A week and a half of unanswered voicemails had him cursing and throwing his phone on the couch one evening, and Alexis looking up from her perch at the kitchen counter.

"She's still ignoring you?"

"Sorry, pumpkin." Rick sighed and joined her. "I thought you'd gone upstairs."

Alexis set her pencil down and turned to face her dad. "Maybe it's time to let her go, Dad. She obviously doesn't want anything beyond whatever you have right now."

Rick shot a look at her; he'd never brought Kate home, and didn't leave to meet up with Kate when Alexis was home. But his daughter was thirteen going on thirty, and she'd obviously figured out that something was going on. "I don't know if I can," he admitted after a long silence. "I can't explain it, but...there's something about her."

Alexis smirked at him. "You just don't want to be alone on your birthday next week."

"Not true."

"Anyway," Alexis continued, kissing his cheek, "if you're going to mope down here, I'm going to finish my homework upstairs. Call me when it's time to start dinner."

"'Kay." He stared down at the counter, Alexis's words ringing in his ears. Maybe it was time to forget about Kate, to let her go. But the thought of never knowing more than he did made him ache.

He lifted his head when his phone beeped from deep in the couch cushions, and he pushed himself from the counter. He was greeted with a text, and he couldn't help the heat that spread through his chest when he saw Kate's name on the display.

Want to meet up?

Rick propped himself against the arm of the couch and considered. He did want to see her, and Alexis was old enough to stay home alone...but he refused to leave her even for a few hours just so he could get laid.

I can't go out tonight.

Oh. This weekend?

No. Rick's thumb hovered over the send button before he moved back to the keyboard. I want to see you though. Come over later?

He'd never done that before. He'd had his share of friends with benefits and one night stands, but had never invited one over, never even considering doing so when his daughter was home. But Alexis would be in bed in a few hours, and he needed to talk to Kate. He needed to tell her how he felt.

Sure. Let me know when.


It was after eleven when she knocked on his door, quiet raps as he'd requested.

She'd been surprised at his request for her to come over; being a cop, she didn't like to take random men home, and he'd admitted one night that he didn't want his daughter meeting just anyone. So they'd gone to hotels, never each other's place. And despite her ability to, she'd never looked up his address.

He greeted her with a smile as he opened the door wide, and she couldn't stop her jaw from dropping when she took in his apartment.

It was huge.

Two story lofts were difficult to find in Manhattan, let alone SoHo, so the fact that he had one that was so immaculate meant he'd either gotten a great deal on it, or he was much richer than she'd realized.

Or maybe a combination of both.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked in a quiet voice, leading her into the kitchen.

She shook her head and turned back to him. "No, thank you." She grabbed the hem of his sweater and tugged, snuck her hands underneath to splay her fingers across his ribs. "Show me your room?"

He let out a low growl and tugged her into him, bent his head down to meet her mouth with his.

She'd missed him, she mused later, when they lay sprawled on his sinfully comfortable mattress after two toe-curling rounds. And, judging by the way he'd pinned her against the bookshelves that doubled as his office wall, his thigh between her legs and hands under her shirt, he'd missed her too. It had been less than two weeks since they'd seen each other last, but the more she was with him, the more she wanted him.

"You're thinking too hard," Rick mumbled from beside her, his voice muffled by the pillow his face was buried in.

She resisted the urge to sift her fingers through his hair, instead turning to her side so she was facing him.

Oh, he was adorable.

His hair, unruly from its abuse by her hands, stuck up in all directions, except for the bit that flopped over his forehead. One eye was cracked open, and his nose was scrunched as he looked at her. She settled in beside him and allowed herself to kiss him. "Sleep," she whispered, allowing him to draw her into his arms.

He let out a noncommittal hum as he rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, and he rested his hand on her thigh when she draped her leg over his. His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, but just when she thought he was asleep, he spoke.

"I want this."

Kate froze. He wanted what? Her to stay the night? Cuddling?

He lifted his head and pressed a kiss to her hair. "I want to know you, Kate," he muttered against her head. "You're always so closed off. I don't just want to know your body. I want to know your mind, too. Your heart."

She pushed herself into a sitting position and turned from him, heard him shift behind her. She drew the sheet up to cover her chest, and started looking for her clothes. "No, you don't," she insisted. "You really don't.

Rick's lips pressed softly against her back. "I really do."

"I'm a mess, Rick. You don't want to know me any more than you already do." She sighed and stood, grabbed the throw blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her body. "I'd ruin us."

Rick followed her out of bed, and he pulled his boxers on, followed her through his office and back to the living room as she made her way through his apartment. "No you wouldn't. I think we'd work. Hey." He grabbed her arm and stepped in front of her. "I like you, Kate. I want to date you."

Kate hesitated, drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she considered. There was no doubt that she liked him, but if they tried a relationship and it didn't work…

"Okay," she finally responded, the smile that took over his face triggering her own. "But I'm not staying over tonight. I don't want to meet your daughter when I'm trying to sneak out."

He grinned. "Deal."