Chapter 2

Detective Kate Beckett- if she could even call herself that anymore- trudged over the threshold of her apartment, shoulders slumped, head throbbing. She dropped her jacket and bag in a heap by the front door and stepped out of her heels, a soft groan escaping as she flexed her toes.

The day had gone from bad to worse to almost laughable. She should have listened to that voice the back of her mind telling her to stay in bed that morning, not that it would have changed anything, but maybe it would have bought her a few more moments of ignorant bliss.

She made her way over to the small kitchen, swiping a bottle of wine off the shelf as she walked around the island to the utensil drawer. Her hand fished through the random collection of kitchenware, searching for the single corkscrew that always managed to elude her. Her former captain- her mentor- was dead, shot in his own house the night before. And if that hadn't been bad enough the powers-that-be up in One Police Plaza had suspended her badge pending investigation and psychiatric review. Sure she had been a little jumpy since that botched undercover op a couple months before but she was fine. She slammed a fist down on the counter and lifted her eyes toward the ceiling. She had no one, nothing. Everyone was gone. Even her own partners were handling her with kid gloves. Now, she couldn't even find the one tool she needed to open the bottle of Cabernet.

Abandoning her quest for wine, Kate pushed up on her tiptoes and reached for the bottle of vodka on the top shelf of her cabinet. The tips of her shaking fingers fumbling against the slick glass, inching it toward the edge until it teetered over the side. She placed the bottle on the counter and gulped down a calming breath. She needed to pull herself together.

Kate wandered through the apartment the clear liquor burning down her throat, warmth flowing through her veins. She took swigs from the bottle, staring sightless at framed photographs of smiling faces and the spines of book until the tingling warmth turned to numbness. One night. She would give herself one night to mourn and fall apart, then she would come up with a plan. She'd figure it out.

What was the point? You're born, you live, work, search for your soulmate, if you're lucky you find them. But are you really lucky? Watching time tick away, a constant reminder that your time together is finite? Isn't it better to just be happy with someone, soulmate or no? An hour, a night, a lifetime with no known expiration date.

The zeros on Evelyn Montgomery's wrist had mesmerized her. Kate's eyes had remained trained on them no matter how hard she had tried to look away. They had already started to fade from the bold black to a dull grey.

Kate's lips moved, sending Evelyn's words echoing through the dark apartment. "I knew it was coming, Detective. We both did. That's why Roy retired when he did 3 years ago. We wanted that time together. You can't escape fate."

But couldn't you though? Couldn't you escape it if you never let it find you in the first place? Her eyes roved around the silent space. Or was it better to have someone even with a fated expiration? Was it better to spend the day to day with someone so in sync with yourself that you didn't care about the constant reminder that every second was ticking toward an inevitable end?

Montgomery had known his time was coming, and he had just accepted it has fate. Kate let out a snort, taking another swig from the bottle. He could have fought, hidden, done something- anything- to challenge his fate but instead he had sent his wife and children away and accepted that it was his time to die.

Kate wobbled across the threshold of her bedroom- minutes, hours- later. Time was fleeting. The empty vodka bottle clattered to the floor, any remaining liquor leaking out of the spout and into the carpet. Her body swayed then followed in a ragged heap.

She stumbled into the bathroom hours later, head buzzing, a trail of coffee-stained clothes behind her and stared into the mirror, cloudy, red-rimmed eyes staring back. There had to be more than this. More than living for a job that could be taken away from you at any moment. More than mental turmoil at every loud noise and body of water. She hadn't even been able to take a bath since that op… More than jumping from relationship to relationship without ever fully committing. She ran her hands through her hair, tangled from a day's worth of New York grease and grime, pausing when she caught glimpse of the black marks in the mirror. She swayed on the spot. Her body, fuzzy with vodka and wonder, unable to freeze.

54.02.03

Kate pitched back, slamming into the cold bathroom wall as she slipped down, vertebrae bumping from tile to tile until her butt hit the floor. A hysterical laugh burst from her lips, hiccuped into a sob. It was real. Her thumb ran over the numbers, smearing the tears that continued to fall over the freshly tattooed skin before curling her hand into her chest. Sometime in the last twelve hours she had met her soulmate.

"Once upon a time..." She mumbled. The words heavy on her tongue, and she drew in a jagged breath. "Two heads. Four arms. Four legs."

Her eyes turning upward toward the heavens as the tears dried. "One soul."

She just had to make it through the next few days dredged in black- the funeral, the eval- then she would find him.

Fifty-four years, two months, three days.

They had a lifetime together.