Some Kind of Fix
Word Count: 2,876
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Linden/Holder
Spoilers: up to 1x13, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just break things.
Summary: He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.
Author's Note: So... maybe one more part to this...?

Some Kind of Understanding

Holder settled Linden's kid on his couch and went to the fridge for a beer. He'd been surprised to see the kid show up, even more surprised to get the running hug that knocked the wind out of him after his mother had done just that, and then the kid started talking up a storm about his dad. Holder had no idea why he'd defended the guy. He didn't like him. He didn't want Linden's kid to like him, either.

He looked over at Jack on the couch. At least Linden would come back for the boy. The one thing that she couldn't leave behind. That's what the kid was, supposedly, and Holder didn't doubt that she would come. She was a mother, even if the job wanted to screw that up.

"Holder?"

"What, kid?"

"Are you always going to call me kid?"

"Got a reason that I shouldn't?" Holder countered, drinking from the beer. What he really wanted he couldn't have, so he was back to the booze and cigarettes and trying to make them work again. If not for the kid, he probably would have done what he'd been thinking about and gone to a NA meeting. Things were bad. Real bad, especially now that he'd screwed up with Linden.

"You're going to marry my mom, right?" Jack asked, sitting up. "That means... you'd call me by another name, right?"

"I don't know. I like calling you kid, and your mom ain't gonna marry me."

"Do you think she would if I told her I liked you and wanted her to?" Jack asked, and then he shook his head. "No, it wouldn't make a difference, would it? I told her I didn't like Rick, but she was going to marry him anyway. I don't know why. I think I only had fun with him once, when we stuffed our faces full of cake."

"Hey, I can do better than that. I have my sister's cookie recipe, and there is nothing in this universe better than her cookies. Forget any store bought ones or even bakery ones. I am telling you: that woman figured out the secret to the best cookies ever," Holder told him. He shrugged. "They're not as good when I make 'em, but they're close."

"Can we make them now?"

"Depends. Might not have everything we need," Holder answered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made the cookies. He didn't think he had all of the stuff he needed around here, even after his trip to the store with Linden. "Maybe it's best if we just get some sleep and check on things in the morning. That way the stores'll be open if we need something."

Jack sighed. "I don't know that I can sleep."

"What, you think you need a bed time story?"

"What am I, five?"

"I don't know," Holder shrugged. "I think you act that way sometimes. We all do. Sometimes that little kid in us gets the better of us. It happens. You should have been willing to talk to your dad instead of running. Maybe all of that was none of what you thought it was."

"And if it is?"

"Then you deal with it. That's life, you know. It's shit, but it's life," Holder repeated what he'd said to the kid's mom the other day with a slight smile. He took a slow sip of his beer. "I'm not going to say I got all the answers. I don't. I'm not going to say I'm much good at this crap, either. I'm just older and have gone through enough to know that it doesn't get easier. I also did the running thing. Spent a while addicted to drugs. Nothing bothered me when I was high, and I sure as hell loved that. Thing is, though, the moment I came down, it was all still there. It was even worse because I avoided it. So what if you don't want to hear what the truth is about your dad? It's still gonna be true tomorrow. You have to talk to him. Just like your mom can't run from the truth about Sonoma forever."

"She doesn't really love him," Jack insisted. "I know she thought she did, but he was just the first person to ask after my dad took off. She thought she had to do it. Maybe even for me, but I never really liked Rick."

"I know that. She's the one that doesn't."

Jack sighed. "Are you sure you can't marry her? I mean, you barely know her, but you know her better than most."

"That's the funny thing," Holder said, finishing off his beer. "Most people think that working with her, you only see the side of her that's at work. They don't get that it is Linden at work. Her guard is actually down the most when she's there. She shows a hell of a lot more than she thinks. I got to work pretty closely with her. I figured a few things out—and quickly, too. She's complicated, your mother. And as much as you think she doesn't care what you do or maybe even about you, it's all too clear that she does."

"Then why isn't she here?"

"I chased her off. Said something I shouldn't have. Ain't got nothing to do with you, kid, so don't worry about it."

"Will she come back?"

"Yeah, kid. She'll come back. She'll come back for you."

"This is unexpected."

"You have every right to throw me off your boat, and I wouldn't blame you," Linden began, standing up. She'd been sitting in the back of the boat for a while, trying to think. She had finally decided to go to Reggie's, knowing that she couldn't stand outside Holder's apartment forever. The diner would have been open all night, but he knew about that place, might look for her there, and she didn't want to be found. She wasn't ready for that.

"I guess I'll reserve judgment on that until I know why you're here."

"I needed to come by and apologize," Linden began uncomfortably. She looked down and took a deep breath. "Though I'd be lying if I said that was the only reason."

"Knew better than to think it was, but I'm willing to hear the apology," Reggie said, setting down her bag of groceries and sitting next to it. "Where's Jack?"

"With Holder."

"Holder?"

"I told you about him. The narco transfer they stuck me with on the Larsen case. The guy I was supposed to train to do homicide," Linden reminded her, though she doubted the older woman had forgotten. Reggie didn't forget anything. "He was with his father, though."

"His father?" Reggie demanded almost angrily. "What the hell was he doing with his father? That man hasn't so much as picked up a phone in years, and you're letting Jack spend time with him?"

"I was. I must have been crazy—I'd blame the whole thing on Holder, really. He said it would be best if I let Jack find out for himself that his father was a loser. I guess he has now, but the whole thing is such a mess... Reggie, I screwed up. I fucked everything up. I'm not just talking about Jack and being a bad mother. It's Rick and Sonoma and not getting on the damn plane. Jack and his father. Me and Holder..."

Reggie looked at her. "What about you and Holder?"

"You're not going to ask about the plane?"

"I've got eyes. You're here. That's answer enough. Besides, as much as I tried to like Rick, as much as he seemed like a decent man, I never believed it would work between the two of you. I'm not your mother, so I kept my peace on that one. It isn't for me to tell you who to marry or who not to marry. That's your choice."

"And the wrong one, like always."

Reggie sighed. "Looking at the type of man Rick is, there's no denying he was one of the better ones. You thought you were making a good choice for you and for Jack. Never mind that Jack hated him. He was bound to hate the one you finally decided you liked."

"That's—it's—Jack seems to have no problem with Holder."

"Holder's just a guy you work with. Isn't he?"

Linden shook her head. "Not exactly. Not anymore. I don't—I shouldn't have let him talk me into it, but I guess I just wanted to pretend for myself for a while... I don't know what I was thinking, Reggie. Holder is nothing like Rick. He's not stable, and he's not going to be a good provider. He has to struggle with an addiction to crystal meth and could lose his job at any time. Rick is the obvious choice."

"Only you're not with Rick. You're still here. And it sounds like there's more going on with you and Holder than you're ready to face."

Linden sighed. "He... sort of asked me to marry him."

"Did he now? Well, that is a surprise."

"It's not like it was some great romantic moment. We were lying there, and he just blurted out, 'fuck it, marry me and not Sonoma.' I thought he was joking."

"And he's not."

Linden paced around the deck of the boat a little. "I don't think so. Or at least I think that he doesn't think so. It's such a complicated mess, and I made it. I'm not expecting you to fix it. I don't know that it can be fixed. I don't know. I don't know anything right now. I should be with Jack. His father really upset him today, and I'm not there for him. Holder is. Why is he there, and I'm not?"

Reggie studied her for a long moment. "Because marriage to Holder scares the hell out of you. I don't even think that's the usual fear of commitment panic talking, either. Rick offered you a fresh start. A completely new life. It's not what you really needed. You need this place. You need that past. You need to stop running. Holder just asked you to do that. That's what scares you."

"I don't even know him."

"Sounds to me like he might have a good sense of you, though."

"No. He can't. It's only been a few days," Linden protested, but the words felt hollow to her. She was afraid that Holder was right, that he knew her all too well.

"Cookies."

Holder opened his eyes and frowned. Where the hell was he? Oh, damn, he was in that chair in his front room. That one always gave him bad pain in the neck when he fell asleep there, and he'd been trying to avoid doing that since he got sober. "What cookies?"

"We're making them, right? It's morning. You can figure out what you need now and we'll make cookies. You said so."

"Don't you think you should talk to your dad first?" Holder asked, dragging himself out of the chair and rubbing his neck. Damn, that hurt already. He was going to have to take something for it, if he had anything around. "Look, you might not want to hear it, but he's the only one who can tell you if you were right about what you heard. You need to know. Tell him never to come around again if he feels that way. But you gotta know if you're going to tell him off, otherwise you're just some kind of punk who don't know crap and made an ass out of himself."

Jack looked at him. "Why do you care so much about me talking to my dad?"

"You think I want to be stuck with you while you're here and feeling sorry for yourself? Hell, no, kid. Call your father. Find out if he's an asshole, and then we can deal with whatever you feel. With cookies. You call. I'll look for what I need."

Jack sighed, but he went over to the window, taking out his phone. Holder watched him for a moment, not sure what to do about the kid if the things he thought were true were true. Make him cookies, sure, but after that? Hell if Holder knew. Linden could come back and take her kid off his hands any time now. That would be fine with him.

He went into the kitchen and started digging through his cupboards, looking for his ingredients. Before he got addicted, he would keep all of the stuff around, but he hadn't even thought about the recipe until his sister came by yesterday. Funny how being sober hadn't mattered, how the cookies hadn't mattered until the kid was here. He had most of the ingredients out on the counter when Jack came back into the kitchen.

"He said he'd send me cards and stuff and we could keep in touch, but he's going back to Chicago," the kid began dully. "That there's no place for me there just yet. And when I asked about child support, he said that was something for him to discuss with my mom. He doesn't actually care."

"Maybe he has a lousy way of showing it. Maybe he needs time to make a place for you in his house there," Holder offered, and the kid shook his head.

"Why are you defending him? You didn't like him. I could tell back at the hotel."

"No, I don't, kid, but I figure if your father was a complete jerk, he never would have come here in the first place."

"I'm starting to think he just did it to mess with my mom."

"Well, then, you just let him mess with your mom. Don't be the tool he uses. He can't man up, then fuck him. Let's make cookies," Holder said, lifting up the bag of chocolate chips. Jack frowned for a moment and then gave in, coming over to the other side of the counter. "A cup of this, a cup of that, and as much of this as we want."

"You're sure these can be eaten?"

"It all starts with the basic chocolate chip thing, right? Then you add some other flavors, and it's one hell of a cookie. Don't believe me? Fine. You'll just have to see when you taste them."

Jack was quiet, and Holder gave him the spoon to start stirring the mixture of flour, oil, and eggs. He worked at it for a few minutes while Holder set out the right amount of the other things they would need. The kid stopped and looked up at him. "Holder, do you think... I mean... Well, my mom's coming back, right? She'll be here, and none of it will matter, right?"

"It matters 'cause it hurts, right?"

"Why did my dad have to be a jerk?"

"He didn't have to be. He chose to be, maybe," Holder corrected. He held out the bag of chocolate chips to the boy. "Put in as much of those as you want. He ever have that talk with you? You know, the talk?"

"What, like girl and boy stuff? The sex talk? Well... no. Mom hasn't, either, but I already know about—why are you asking me that?"

Holder shrugged. He wasn't telling the kid that was part of the deal with Linden. "If he had, it could have meant that he cared more than you thought. If he didn't, not sure it means anything. Only thing I can say about that kid is a bit of advice my sister gave me—be careful where you put that thing."

"What, like you and my mom aren't—"

"Your mom and me, we're adults now. You're still growing up. Hell, I'm still growing up. The point is to think about it. It's not as simple as point A and point B, okay? It takes a lot more than the right parts."

"Uh..."

"Relax, kid," Holder said, reaching over to mess up the kid's hair. He looked up and frowned. Damn, how long had Linden been standing there? And why the hell hadn't he heard her come in? He forced a smile. "Yo, Linden, long time no see. You're just in time for cookies. Well, a few minutes early."

"I'll wait," she said, and Holder let out a breath, nodding. She'd stay for now. Good. Maybe he could talk to her, change her mind. Probably not, though. He reached for a cookie sheet.

"You could help, actually."

"That depends."

Holder frowned. Was she going to make him promise not to ask again or something? Or make a run for it. "On what?"

"You got a ring?"