Chapter 9


Want to come over for dinner tonight?

The text comes in a little after noon. The invitation surprises Kate. She doesn't know what happened, but somewhere in the last week he started to act differently. He's somehow managed to be more distanced without being more distanced. Or maybe she's just imagining it. She does miss him. How crazy is that? So she texts him that she will be there after she texts Lanie that she's in desperate need for girl-talk.

"Guys, I'm going to the morgue," she tells Ryan and Esposito. They each give her a distracted nod before carrying on with trying to sort out the victim's bank files.

As soon as she walks through the double doors of the morgue, she spots Lanie by one of the metal tables, bent over a body.

"Hey, girl," she says without looking up as Kate approaches the table. "Got your text. Give me a minute to finish up here and I'm all yours."

Kate watches as her friend expertly sews the chest of the body closed again as she waits.

"Okay, done," Lanie says as she puts the needle and thread down on the tray next to her, along with her gloves, and walks to the sink to wash her hands. "What's wrong?" Her voice is empathetic.

"Rick's acting weird," Kate sighs.

"Isn't he always?" Lanie says, then at Kate's look, "Weird how?"

"I don't know. It's not like he acts very different from before, but something's changed. It's like he's distancing himself."

"Wait up. Distancing himself? I didn't know you two were still seeing each other?"

"We're not… Well, not like that. We've kept in touch and I thought that we were going somewhere. We were talking to each other more and meeting up more often. But now it's like he's retreating and I don't know what to do about it. What if I've waited too long?"

"No. How long has it been since your kidnapping? Like three months? You're allowed to have some time to recover from that. He knows that too. No, you haven't waited too long, Kate. What happened? When did he start acting weird?"

Kate frowns. She hasn't even thought about it like that. "Uhm, I guess since last week. We met up for coffee; nothing special happened. He just left abruptly with a lame excuse about a meeting with his publisher."

"What did you talk about?"

"He made fun of me for reading that book you recommended me, we talked about my recovery for a while, and near the end, he did seem a bit off…" She's struggling to grasp what went wrong. It's definitely something in that conversation now that she thinks about it.

"Did you say something? Something that might've hurt him?" Lanie asks.

"I don't know…" She tries to think, but her mind is blank. And yet. There's something itching in the back of her mind. "Maybe…"

"Think about it, maybe something will come up. But even if it doesn't, talk to him about it. I know you, Kate. Maybe it's just one big misunderstanding and he just understood you wrong. Talk to him about it."

"Okay, I will. Thanks, Lanie," Kate says with a weak smile.

"This one's gotten to you, hasn't he?" Lanie says proudly.

Kate chuckles. "Yeah, he has." There's no point in hiding her blush. It's too obvious. She needs a change of topic, before it gets too embarrassing. Lanie doesn't know that they'd met before her kidnapping. To her, Rick just appeared out of thin air with information on her whereabouts. Though Kate suspects that Lanie does know more than she's letting on. "Anyway, do you have any new information on my victim?"

(…)

You know, the story line kind of reminds me of us. I mean, not the whole boyfriend, girlfriend, moving in with each other part, of course…

She's staring at the murder board, trying to find a connection between her main suspect and the victim when her own voice pops into her head.

She actually said those words, didn't she? No wonder he practically ran out the door of the coffee shop. She's going to have to fix it. She will fix it. Tonight.

Now it all makes sense. She wasn't being crazy, he had actually been distancing himself. She's such an idiot. Why would she even say such a thing. The whole first part of the book reminded her of them. Their strange relationship. She suspects that it was the second part of the book that made her say what she did. When Sophie moved in with Billy and all went to hell.

Sophie reminded Kate of herself, being closed off and all. But Rick isn't as famous as Billy is in the book. And now that she thinks about it, all the headlines he's made have been when he's attended parties and premieres with always another woman on his arm. So it's not like the papers are out to get him in a private moment.

Rick's not that famous. In the time that she's known him, the man himself never made her think that he's just a rich playboy.

"Hey, boss," Ryan calls across the bullpen and draws her out of her musings and pulls her back into her investigation. She just has enough time to text Rick that she's not going to make it in time. He texts her back to take her time – as long as she promises to stop by when she's done.

So she does. It's nearing ten o'clock when she finally knocks on his door.

"Hey," he says as he opens the door and lets her in.

"Hi." She smiles shyly up at him, thinking about her earlier epiphany. He still seems a little bit subdued, so she goes in for a hug when she passes him. He momentarily freezes when she lightly wraps her arms around his waist, but then hugs her back.

"Have you eaten?" he asks.

She starts to say yes, but when she thinks about it, she hasn't. In the heat of the chase, she's forgotten to feed herself. Again. "No." Preparing herself for his disapproving glance, she looks up. And there it is. His eyes are worried again, his whole body seems to tell her that she has to take better care of herself.

"All right, come on. There's some chicken leftover from dinner," he says after a beat and leads her to the kitchen. She's surprised that he doesn't voice his thoughts. He usually does. Maybe that's just another sign of him pulling away. She decides it's not the right time to say something about it though. Later tonight. After she's eaten something. Now that she's here, she notices how hungry she is.

He's putting a plate of delicious-looking chicken wings into the microwave as she drops onto one of the stools surrounding his island.

"So, how was work?" he asks casually.

"It was okay. I think we're close to a break in the case," she answers absently, thinking about how she's going to voice her concerns and actual feelings towards him.

"That's good," he says. The answer pulls her out of her head. In her mind's eye, she's suddenly floating above the both of them. Him, awkwardly leaning against the counter near the microwave and her on the other side of the kitchen, slumped on a stool. Both trying to keep this awkward conversation going. This has got to stop…

So she looks around his place for the first time tonight. "Hey, you put up your Christmas tree already," she smiles.

"Yeah, Alexis and I do it a week after Thanksgiving every year," he says, and he launches into a story about him and his daughter putting up the tree. He doesn't pause when the microwave beeps and just gets her plate out and places it in front of her while he continues his story.

She tears the pieces of meat off the bone, popping them in her mouth while her hands are already looking for another piece to tear off. She must've been really hungry. And this chicken is really good.

It's takes her a minute to realize he's stopped talking. "What?" she says when her eyes meet his amused ones.

"Nothing," he says, "just waiting until you start making love to that chicken."

"Shut up," she tells him with a teasing smile "I'm hungry."

"No, seriously, you're eating that chicken like you're a five-year-old," he laughs.

"Isn't that a bit early to start making love? Especially to a chicken, I mean you don't want to raise a kid who's into bestiality, right?"

"Yeah, you're right, not my best analogy."

She laughs. "I'll forgive you this time. Just don't say such a thing around Alexis or our kids." Still laughing, she takes another bite. She hears a sharp intake of breath coming from his direction and looks up at him. He's staring at her again. This time, his expression is not amused. It's shocked.

She goes over her words and internally groans. This is the time to say something. She knows it. He's not going to let this go. So she swallows her bite of chicken and takes a deep breath.

"So, uh… I think I realized something today."

"You did?" he breathes. She's surprised that he manages even that.

"Yeah," she says, trying to gather the courage to say the words she wants to say. "I made a mistake." His shoulders slump, his head bows, and she's quick to explain herself before he jumps to conclusions again. "The storyline of the book does remind me of us. Not because of the boyfriend, girlfriend thing. But because you're this… this famous author and I'm just a cop. Sophie never expected to fall for Billy. But she did…" She takes another deep breath and whispers, "And so did I."

"You fell for Billy?" he asks.

"No, Rick," she says and she looks at him.

His blue eyes pierce into hers, like he's trying to make sense of her. Whatever he sees, he must like it, because his eyes light up and he moves in closer.

"You sure? Because from what I've heard, this Billy fella is a real catch," he murmurs.

"Actors are not my type," she says as she turns towards him.

"No? What is your type?"

He's now close enough for her to pull him against her and put her lips to his ear. "Guess."

"Ah, a game. I like games," he grins. "Let's see… Cops?"

"Pff, no. One cop in a relationship is more than enough," she scoffs.

"Hmmm… Doctors?" he asks.

"Hmm, doctors are good with their hands," she teases.

"Really, do you have any exp-" She muffles the rest of his sentence by pressing her lips to his. He relaxes into her. They don't deepen the kiss or try and make it more passionate. It's perfect as it is. The rest comes later. Besides, they've already had sex, there's nothing new about passion. Now, love… Love is something entirely different.

And she thinks she might be falling in love with him with no return.