Late Night Study Break

A prequel to Reference Material

For whatifellinlovewith, who requested this based on a buzzfeed story. I hope you like it! <3


Have you ever seen Cool Runnings? The movie about the bobsled team?

What the hell?

She should be used to messages like this, she really should. Her study partner is nothing if not consistent in his desire to annoy her, and tonight's context-free communication is no exception. And any other night she might play along, but Kate Beckett is not in the mood at the moment.

What about Angels in the Outfield? Either of those?

Her head hits the desk with a solid thud. This paper is due in thirteen hours, she has an exam just an hour after that, and Rick wants to talk about random 90s sports movies. She could turn off her ringer, of course, but then the person who was supposed to call her back three hours ago with the information she needs to finish said paper might not be able to get in touch with her if she does.

And she really needs those notes.

She also really needs Rick to be quiet. Just for tonight. Tomorrow he can pick up with his inane trivia, but tonight she needs him to not quiz her about movies she vaguely remembers watching at a sleepover in junior high.

I don't remember, she sends back in spite of herself. Telling him she hasn't seen something is basically an invitation for him to quote it at her, but at this point ignoring him will only encourage him to ask her more questions.

As the minutes tick by she starts to think that maybe she blew his mind and he can't reply.

That's sad, Kate. You would remember these fantastic movies.

Her eyes roll. Fantastic probably isn't the word she would use to describe them, but sure, Rick. Sure.

It's all about the improbable comeback. Being the underdog. How can you not love that?

Giving her document another long look, she turns back to the phone. Five minutes of goofing off with Rick. That's all she'll give herself.

I never said I didn't like them, Rick. I just said I don't remember them. Their quality was never in question.

His response makes her laugh. He always says she's sexy when she gets technical.

Okay, what about Rudy? Have you seen that? You have to have seen something, Kate.

And here he goes again.

Thankfully, her email chimes with a new message – the information she needs in a readable form, hallelujah – before she can tell him (again) that she's seen plenty, she just doesn't care.

Now she can put her phone on silent for a while and work.

Two hours later, the paper is done and edited, surpassing the minimum word count by just eighty words. Tension grips her neck and shoulders, white hot and icy at once, and her fingers ache from their furious journey over the keyboard, but she is done.

Exhaustion pushes her back against the solid wood of her desk chair, a groan spilling from her lips as her spine pops. She isn't worried about waking her roommate; on nights when Kate's up working late, Angela makes a point of sleeping with headphones and a mask over her eyes. Nothing short of practicing for STOMP could disturb her.

The notification light on Kate's phone blinks red and insistent, reminding her that she had killed her ringer just to be able to concentrate. Flipping the phone open, she cringes at the half a dozen messages waiting for her.

But only one of them is from Rick.

Okay, I'm done poking for now. What's up?

Well that's kind of sweet. He must have known from her earlier reply that she wasn't in the mood and decided to knock it off for her.

Studying with him for the last couple months has taught her that he's a night owl, so she's confident she won't be waking him when she answers.

Just stressed. Tired. Need a hug.

There's no logical reason she can think of for why she says it, other than the fact that it has been a long damn week, and something as simple as a hug wouldn't suck.

Rick's next message comes faster than she expects, his disbelief obvious in the single word he sends.

Seriously?

She could say no, could say she was just joking or being dumb, but she just finished writing an eight-page paper in a short amount of time after a week of nonstop frustration. The thought of simple physical contact after weeks without it doesn't exactly suck.

Yeah.

Kate winces as soon as she hits send. Maybe it's a bad idea. Actually, no, it's a terrible idea and she knows it. Rick Rodgers is… well he's a flirt (and an incorrigible one at that), but that's part of what makes him fun. Flirting is what they do, along with sniping at each other, joking around, and pretending to die of boredom in class. But they don't hug.

He replies before she can tell him she's changed her mind, or that she was just messing with him.

I'm on my way. I'll let you know when I'm outside.

Her heart stutters against her sternum. Jesus, he's really coming to her dorm at two a.m. for no reason other than to hug her.

Rick, you don't have to. I was kidding.

She can picture his eager, almost clumsy gallop coming to a halt, the way he'll palm his jacket and his jeans to find the phone he just slipped into a pocket to read her message.

She can also picture him scoffing as he taps out his answer.

Too late. Already on my way.

Of course he is. A thrill rolls down her spine, rogue and unexpected, and she admonishes herself for it. He's coming over because he's a dork, that's it; it doesn't mean anything more than that.

That said, she can't exactly complain about the prospect of being held by an attractive boy. Especially after the week she has had. Especially given the day she has ahead of her.

The phone buzzes on the desk a little while later, pulling her away from the paragraph she's been reading and rereading. He's outside. He came all the way from wherever he lives to give her a hug in the middle of the night.

Jumping up, Kate pulls her hoodie on over her t-shirt, running a hand through her mussed hair in an attempt to tame it, and pushes her feet into the first pair of shoes she can find – fuzzy slippers no less. Her keys slap against her palm as she ducks out of her room and skids down the hall to the external door.

Rick waits under the streetlight at the base of the stairs, his hands deep in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the chill of the mid-October night. She doesn't blame him for being cold; the wind has a little bit of a bite to it, even through her hoodie, and his jacket looks lighter than it should be to trek across Manhattan.

"Hey," she calls, padding down the steps, watching his chin lift, his smile widen. "You're crazy, you know that?"

Rick shrugs, looking her over in the golden light. "It's been said. Nice slippers, Beckett. Fluffy ducks really suit you."

"It's two a.m., smartass. Besides, you're one to talk. Ninja Turtles, Rick? Really?"

His eyebrows wiggle, mischief flooding his cheeks. "I think they're quite fetching, Kate."

She can't help herself, she laughs. "Eh, they're not so bad."

"Uh huh. I bet you're a Donatello girl, aren't you? And look! Something you've seen."

"Funny," she drawls, stepping into his personal space. He doesn't back away. Not that she expects him to, given that he came over here for a hug. "I've said it before: I've seen plenty; I just don't care."

"See," he hums, "I don't quite believe that. But I am willing to let it slide for tonight in order to deliver your promised hug."

He opens his arms, inviting her to slide her arms around his waist and nuzzle her face into the warmth of his chest.

No. There will be no nuzzling. Just a hug.

Before she has the chance to talk herself out of this entire absurd idea, she steps into him, palming his sides before slipping her hands to the small of his back. Her head drops, her nose bumping the cool ridges of his jacket's zipper. His chest hitches under her cheek, the stutter of his breath telling her that he hadn't really expected her to take him up on his offer, but he doesn't pull away. No, his arms band around her, one hand flattening against her shoulder, the other curling around her hip to keep her from toppling over as his nose tucks itself into her hair.

Her eyes slip shut, a noise of contentment escaping her chest without her consent. She feels him rumble an agreement, his arms flexing and pulling her impossibly closer.

God, she'd needed this. She'd really needed this; the weight of his arms, the wall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart. It all has her slumping against him, releasing the worries of the last week.

And from the way his back relaxes under her hands, she thinks he's needed this, too.

"Long week?" she asks after a while, her words muffled and muddied by his chest.

"Mhmm."

The roughened edge to his voice has her fingers tightening against his sweatshirt.

"Got stuff tomorrow?"

He shakes his head against her hair. "Finished it all this afternoon. At least until our exam at the end of next week."

"Right, that." She had almost managed to block that one out.

"Yeah, that," he says, tightening his arms around her, soothing away the renewed tension in her bones. "I'll book our usual room?"

Her lips twist. "Is that a proposition, Mr. Rodgers?"

"I- what?" Rick sputters. "Our usual study roo- wait, are you messing with me?"

Kate lifts a shoulder, her grin easy. "Maybe."

"No fair. It's two a.m.," he argues, flexing his fingers against her shoulder. "I can't believe you, Kate Beckett. I am here being a perfect gentleman and a good friend, and you are making tawdry innuendo."

Her laughter echoes across the sidewalk, bouncing off the brick of her building, reminding her how very still the world around them is right now. She sways into him, meeting his gaze with a smirk of her own. "Yes, you're so very innocent, Rick."

His eyebrows wiggle. "I could be less innocent if you wanted."

Oh, she has no doubt he could. The same could be said for her, but…

"Gonna have to pass on that one, Romeo, sorry."

Rick lifts a shoulder, his lips curled in easy amusement. "You know where to find me."

"Gutter Minds R Us?" she supplies.

"Only the finest filth your money can buy."

Their laughter comes in unison, which only makes her shake her head. God, they're dorks. The both of them.

"It's getting late," he observes a few minutes later, after silence has settled between them once more. And oh, they're still holding onto each other, aren't they?

Kate scoffs, her cheek never leaving his chest. "It's already late."

Rick's fingers lift, playing with the feathered ends of her hair. She really needs a haircut when the semester ends. "Yeah, but you have to study more. And get some sleep."

He's right, she knows. She needs this test to go well tomorrow and perusing the same paragraph a few dozen times isn't going to accomplish that.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," she concedes, giving him one final squeeze before stepping from the comforting circle of his arms. "Okay. I should…"

He nods, looking as reluctant as she feels. "Yeah. I'll wait until you get inside. Just to make sure I don't have to take any ninjas out to protect you."

She chuckles, shaking her head. Ninjas. "Thank you, by the way. For being ridiculous and coming over here like this."

Rick slips a hand through his hair, his smile bashful. "Any time, Kate. And I would offer to quiz you tonight, but you said it's not really that kind of test, so…"

"Plus you'd probably go off on a tangent or ten about 90s sports movies."

He grins. "Yeah probably. I'll tell you why I asked some other time."

Of that, she has no doubt.

"Course you will. Goodnight, Rick. Be careful getting home."

Rick nods, his smile never faltering, and she has to take a step back to keep from doing something ridiculous herself, like kissing him until they're both gasping for breath. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

Heat floods her cheeks. He always says that. At first it had seemed hokey, but it's actually pretty sweet.

"Night," she says again, turning away to jog up the stairs.

He's still watching her when she gets to the side door, his smile soft, thoughtful, and she lifts a hand in a quick wave before shoving her key into the lock and darting inside.

Leaning back against the door, a soft laugh slips past her lips. It's time to get back to work, but after the last half hour, the task doesn't feel quite as miserable as it had an hour ago.

She ends up falling asleep at her desk, pen in hand, cheek mashed against her textbook, the phantom warmth of his arms around her.


Other stories in this universe (in chronological order):

Late Night Study Break
Reference Material
TGIF
A Persuasive Argument
Make it So Easy
summa cum laude
Always Right

and more tagfics and drabbles, which can be found on my tumblr at bunysliper dot tumblr slash reference - material!