She sits in the coffee shop, fingers curled around the cup of hot chocolate. What she wants is to go home, get into her pajamas, and go over the case files. But instead, she answered the text and is sitting here, waiting.
"Hey."
She looks up, not smiling as Beckett slides into the seat across from her. "Hi."
"I'm sorry for not calling," says Beckett.
Lanie shakes her head. "I'm your best friend and you didn't call me for three months. Not even a text or an e-mail." When Beckett opens her mouth, Lanie holds a hand up and plows on. "Do you know what it's like? To have your best friend die under your hands? Because that's what you did. You died. And then you dropped off the face of the earth for three months."
"I needed space," Beckett murmurs, the same excuse she's been giving everyone.
"And e-mailing me is such an intrusion of space," she says, letting the venom leak out. She looks over the table, finds Beckett curled in on herself. "Why did you cut off contact with us, Kate?"
"I couldn't move without crying," she says softly. "Every breath hurt. I didn't want anyone seeing me like that, Lanie."
Lanie reaches across the table, fingers warm from the hot chocolate when she rests her hand over her friend's thin bones. "You could have called."
"But I didn't. And I'm sorry."
"Just… don't do it again?" she asks, drawing Beckett's eyes up to hers. "You have friends, sweetie. We don't need to see you but keeping in contact would be nice."
Beckett sighs. "Yeah, okay. That said, I kinda don't want to get shot in the heart again."
Lanie smiles and nudges the other cup toward her friend. "Me neither."