December 2009
Kate stretched out, tensing her muscles. Savoring the release, she relaxed, and, shifting a little further over in the bed, she collided with-
Oh.
She brought a hand to her mouth to temper the giggle that rose in her chest. Memories from last night flooded her as she turned to look at Rick, his face still slack with sleep, the covers slung over his waist. Her cheeks warmed and the laugh that had been building escaped as he rolled over, the blankets slipping down a little further, revealing his ass.
Last night. Wow. She grinned, biting her lip as she stared at him. Yeah. To hell with slow.
"Hey," she whispered, dropping her mouth to his ear. "Rick. Wake up."
She watched as he came back to consciousness, his eyes flickering open and closed, before flying open again. His jaw dropped as he focused on her. "Kate?" he asked, and she nodded. "What time is it?"
"It's nine," she told him. "And my dad and Alexis are up. I can hear them in the living room."
It was Rick's turn for his cheeks to color, and she grinned as he flushed pink, a groan coming from his mouth. "Oh, God. Walk of shame in your dad's cabin."
"Mmmhmm," she grinned. "Only, not really. I mean- I don't think my dad has an issue with you being here, you know? And Rick? Thank you."
He grinned. "Well, thank you," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, and she shook her head.
"Not like that," she said. "For bringing me here. Forcing me to find a new way to celebrate Christmas."
"You're welcome," he said. "And I intend to celebrate with you a lot, from now on."
"I hope so," she whispered, ducking her head, and he chuckled, a low throaty sound. He reached for her, pulling her toward him, and she inhaled as their skin met, the touch an unexpected reminder that it wasn't just Rick who was lying here without a stitch; she, too, was naked, and as his thigh pressed between her legs a sudden need roared through her.
"Do we have time?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"Not for what I want to do," she said, regret coloring her words. His jaw dropped as she forced herself to pull away from him, standing and smirking as she fastened her bra, before reaching for the clean underwear inside her overnight bag.
"Killing me here, Beckett," he groaned, and she bent down, pressing her lips against his mouth.
"I'll make it up to you when we get back to the city."
January 2010
Kate turned the faucet off and reached for a towel, wrapping one around her hair - it was getting long, and the tendrils that had escaped the hair tie were damp - before grabbing another and twisting it around her torso. She stepped over the edge of the bath and padded back into her bedroom to get dressed. Rick slept still, and she gazed at him, envious of his ability to shut out the world.
He'd stirred as she'd pulled herself out of bed but sleep had reclaimed him. His face was sandwiched between the mattress and a pillow, and she fought the urge to tear it from him, pull him into the day with her.
But if he could sleep, he should; she wanted to do this on her own.
She sneezed - for the second time that morning - and dried off, dropping the towel on the floor and stepping into clean underwear. She sniffled again; this run of sneezes - and the accompanying headache - felt suspiciously like the beginnings of the flu, and she shook her head, determined to ignore it.
Kate paused at her dresser, pulling a pair of jeans from a drawer before hesitating at the sight of the jewelry box on her dresser.
She stared at the closed wooden box for a moment before bringing her hand up, shaky fingers sliding the latch open to lift the lid. Four compartments stared back at her, the soft fabric of each one visible beneath a scattering of jewelry; a few pairs of earrings she'd worn while working at the law firm, and a wristwatch, the thin leather band securing a small, square face. Next to that, though, was what she was looking for, and she reached in, plucking her mother's engagement ring from the box.
She slipped it onto her finger; first to the space so recently vacated by her own wedding band, before switching it to the other hand, moving her fingers back and forth, watching as the stone and the delicate filigree caught the light.
That wasn't right either, but putting it back into the box and closing the lid again wasn't the answer. Not anymore. She glanced over at Rick again, his form still solid and reassuring in her bed as he snuffled in his sleep, and turning back to the dresser, she took out a long chain, separating it from the tangle of necklaces.
She unclasped it, slipping the ring from her finger to thread it onto the chain, and, using both hands, she secured it, pulling it over her head. She closed her palm around it for a second before releasing it and looking into the mirror at her reflection. The ring rested on her chest, between her breasts, and her lips curled up into a smile.
For the life she lost. It was time to start living, and that meant making things right, starting today.
The icy rain needled her face, her umbrella twisting itself inside out, and she swore, jumping over a puddle at the entrance gate. The New York winter was brutal with its Arctic winds and today's deluge of rain, and it matched the cloud that had hovered over her for far too many years.
Kate sloshed across the grass, her gloved hands gripping the daisies she'd picked up at the florist closest to her apartment; already wilted from the downpour, they were a pathetic addition to the roses that she could see her father had left yesterday; he'd surprised her earlier in the week by asking if Ramona could visit with him today. "Keep my mind off things," he'd said. "She keeps me busy."
"A sleepover?" Ramona had asked.
Kate had shrugged, exchanging a glance with Jim, who had nodded and agreed, much to Ramona's delight.
Kate shivered as she pulled up her sleeve to check the time; it was still only nine in the morning, and Kate pulled one of her gloves off, pressing a kiss to her fingertips and brushing her fingers against the stone.
Vincit omnia veritas.
Truth conquers all.
She smiled, even as the sight of the engraved dates brought a rush of tears to her eyes. It had taken some time, but together with Rick, she was finding her truth.
Rick leaped up at the sound of the key in the lock. Kate had insisted on going to the cemetery alone - which he understood - but she'd left before he could make her a coffee this morning. She certainly wasn't coming home and remaining caffeine free a second longer than she had to.
"Rick?" she called, as the door creaked open, and he grinned, pouring the coffee grounds into the portafilter.
"In here," he said, turning and frowning as she made her way through into the apartment, discarding a broken umbrella in the trash before brushing a light kiss on his cheek. "You okay?"
She shrugged, water dripping from the ends of her hair as she leaned against the counter, wrapping her hands around the cup of coffee he passed her. "Thank you."
She took a sip and he watched as she hunched over the cup, the steam rising in her face.
"I can't believe I have to go out there again to collect Ramona," she murmured. "It's… awful."
"I can tell," he said, opening the bedroom door and walking through to the bathroom, grabbing a towel. He brought it back into the kitchen, and she stepped forward, letting him wrap it around her shoulders. "You wanna take a shower?"
"Do you just want to get my clothes off?" she teased, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
"Hey, I just want you to be warm," he protested, his hand making its way to her waist and sliding under her sweater. "And I don't want you to get sick."
She laughed, plucking his hand from her waist and bringing it to her lips for a second before dropping it and taking another sip of her coffee. "I'm already sick," she admitted, sniffing, and he took a step back, taking her in with narrowed eyes. What he'd taken to be cheeks pink from the cold were, at second glance, just a little too flushed. Her eyes were glassy, and her nose red.
"Shit, Kate." He brought a hand up to her forehead, and she listed into him. "You're burning up."
"I'm okay," she insisted. "Just need to chase this coffee with some Advil, and I'll be good."
"No, no, wait. Where's your thermometer?"
She shrugged. "Don't have one," she hedged, backing away from him, and he shook his head.
"No way. Beckett, I was here when Ramona was sick last month. I know you have one."
"Um," she hedged. "In the bathroom cabinet?"
"You shouldn't have gone out this morning," he said as he headed back through the bathroom to find the thermometer and Advil.
"I had to."
"Okay. But you could have always taken the car service, or a cab, at least."
"The subway's easier," she said, and he heard her sneeze as he fumbled around, looking through the drawers.
"Stop looking at all my stuff," she complained, and he turned to see her leaning against the door frame between her bedroom and the bathroom, shivering.
"You're freezing," he pointed out, and she nodded, rubbing her hands together.
"It really didn't hit me until I got home."
"Okay. Well, you're back now. A-ha!" His hand closed around the box of Advil, and he filled the glass beside the sink, carrying it over and handing it to her before popping two of the pills from their foil casing onto her palm.
She put them in her mouth, following them with a sip of the water and a grimace, and he took the glass from her, placing it on the dresser before walking her into the bedroom, his resolve firm as he nudged her onto the bed.
"Come on," he urged her, tugging her sweater over her head and unbuttoning her jeans. "Go back to bed for a bit."
"Mmm…" She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, and he grinned, meeting her hazel eyes. How had he gotten so lucky? "What would Nikki do, if she was sick?"
"Nikki would let Rook take care of her," he lied as she pulled her own tank top off, and he tilted his head to the side, taking in the ring resting between her breasts. "What's…"
"Oh." Her hand closed around it, and she held it up so he could see it in the light that filtered through the window. "It was my mom's," she said, her voice soft, and he pulled the covers down so she could slip between the sheets.
"It's beautiful," he said, and she nodded, her eyes still on the ring. "I'll let you sleep for a bit, okay?"
"Wake me when it's time to get Ramona?" she asked, and he shook his head.
"I can get her," he reminded her. "I know where your dad lives. So if you're asleep, I'm not going to wake you."
She nodded, her eyes closing. "Thank you," she whispered.
He laid his own cool hand on her forehead again, pressing a tender kiss to her hairline. "Always." He stood up, walking toward the door, her small voice calling after him.
"Stay? Until I fall asleep?"
"Of course." He turned back, sinking down onto the bed, his arms wrapping around her. She shifted in his embrace, wriggling so her back was flush with his front, and he lifted his hand, stroking it through her hair; her skin was clammy and he swept the strands out of the way, feathering kisses onto the back of her neck. "Sleep, Kate."
Kate stirred when the sound of the door opening infiltrated her sleep, and she thrashed around for a second before forcing her eyes open, the morning coming back to her.
The ring. The cemetery. Her fever. Rick.
"Mommy!" came Ramona's cry from the living room, and she chuckled as she heard Rick's gentle admonishment.
"Mommy's sleeping," he reminded her, but the thud of her daughter's footsteps hurried across the living room and she burst through the doorway, leaping onto the bed.
"Mommy?" she asked, and Kate rolled over, reaching out for her.
"Come here, Baby. Mommy's just taking a nap."
"Mommy, you sick?"
"Uh-huh. Little bit," she confessed, and Ramona stared at her, her face set, lips pursed.
"Remember what we talked about?" Rick asked, and she felt the bed dip as he situated himself on the edge.
"Oh!" Ramona grinned, pressing her little hand to Kate's forehead. "Hot," she announced, turning to Rick and he nodded.
"So what do we do now?"
"Water." Ramona scrambled off the bed, and Rick followed her into the bathroom. She heard them fumble with the taps, a soft whisper, and a triumphant giggle before Ramona made her way back into the bedroom, both hands wrapped around the glass in an iron grip.
Rick handed her two more Advil, and she swallowed them down with the water. Ugh. Her throat was like razorblades.
"Want to tell Mommy what we did on the way home from Grandpa's?" Rick asked, and Ramona nodded, clambering back up onto the bed and curling into Kate, while Rick took a seat on the armchair.
"Soup and lemonade!"
"Soup and lemonade?"
"Tell her the whole story," Rick urged, and Kate smiled at him before turning back to Ramona, running a hand through her hair.
"It rained and rained," Ramona started, and Kate chuckled.
"It hasn't stopped, hmmm?"
"Nope!" Ramona shook her head. "And the subway and the shop. The umbrella went… whoosh!" She demonstrated with her hands, and Kate laughed.
"Inside out?" she asked. "Mine did that too."
"Uh-huh." Ramona grinned over at Rick. "And Rick did get soup for you."
"Why did we decide to get soup?" he asked and Ramona squealed in delight.
"Because soup for sick people." She poked Kate in the chest with her little index finger with delight. "You!"
Rick chuckled. "Shall we go fix the soup for Mommy, and then let her sleep some more?"
"Yes!"
Rick stood, leaning down to press a kiss to Kate's forehead. "You feel a little cooler," he said. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," she said, surprised it wasn't a white lie; she was okay. Her nose was stuffy, and her throat burned, but she didn't know the last time someone had looked after her like this when she was sick.
She watched Ramona trail Rick out of the room, warmth in her heart, as she counted backwards. It was January, and they'd been together since… the summer? The dates swirled in her mind. Properly together since Christmas, and she bit her lip, smiling at that memory.
It was January now, and her divorce had begun last April; the procedures were nearly complete. Her grin widened as she shifted in the bed, tilting her head so she could see Rick lift Ramona onto a chair, holding her steady so she could help with the lunch they'd brought home.
She was nearly free.
And that man in the kitchen? She'd hated everything he represented when she'd met him last year, stirring up trouble and waking sleeping demons as he'd sipped coffee opposite her, asking about her mom. Now, though, she couldn't imagine life without him; he was more of a partner than her ex-husband had ever been.
A/N: I didn't get to thank hardly anyone individually this time, I'm sorry. It's a long, complicated and boring story involving sitting in a corridor at work and living in a construction zone at home... Thanks Kylie and Jamie, for beta-ing, as always, and also for listening to my tales of woe about said corridor and construction.