Words: rain, shoulders, pregnant

The first thing Hank noticed when he opened his eyes that morning was the patter of rain on his window pane. Just typical Chicago weather. You'd rather stay in bed there than go outside. People wouldn't even send a dog out the door. And Hank wouldn't go outside either.

Fortunately for Hank today, no Chicago criminal would get him out the door. Not today. Today belonged to his girlfriend. And if the weather didn't cooperate, they could spend the day in bed - for sure they would think of something to keep them entertained. I'm sure Hank already knew something.

However, when Hank turned over in bed and wanted to snuggle up to his girlfriend, he realized that he was alone in bed. The other half of the bed was cold and empty. She was no longer lying next to him, and hadn't certainly been for a while. Hank listened to check if he heard a sound that would tell him where Kim was. Maybe the sound of the water running in the shower. Or footsteps on the stairs. Nothing was heard. No sound indicated that there was another person in the house. No sign of Kim.

Hank sat up in bed and looked around the room. His T-shirt, which he had taken off last night, was no longer lying next to the bed on the floor. Kim, who regularly stole his clothes, was probably wearing it - sometimes it was a shirt, sometimes a sweater and her favorite was his leather jacket. And so he just reached for his shorts and pulled them on before setting off in search of Kim.

Before long, he was able to stop his search for his girlfriend. Kim was sitting at the table in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in front of her - probably as cold as the bed he had just left. Hank slowly stepped behind Kim and put his hands on her shoulders.

" Couldn't sleep?" he asked and began to gently massage her shoulders.

Kim just shook her head. No, something had robbed her of her sleep. Something had been bothering her for a while. For a few days now and she hadn't yet found the courage to talk to Hank about it. In fact, she didn't even know if she should. After all, there was nothing to say. Oh, those damn thoughts that just wouldn't stop.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on? What it is that's making you lose sleep," he asked cautiously.

"I," Kim began, but she couldn't get the words past her lips. Why was it so difficult for her?

"You don't have to. But whatever it is, I'm here for you," he promised her.

Hank was sure that when Kim was ready, she would talk to him. She would tell him what it was that was making her lose sleep.

Slowly, he let his hands wander from her shoulder to her neck. He gently massaged away the tension. At least he hoped that this would relax Kim. That it might even relax her enough to talk to him. So that she could share her worries with him. He was her friend, her lover, her partner - he wanted to share everything with her. The good moments. And her worries too. For better or for worse.

"A few days ago, . . this case kept us all very busy. We've hardly had any time to ourselves," Kim then began.

Hank nodded, even if Kim couldn't see it. So that was what it was about. About their last case. And that everything had simply fallen short during this time. Eating, sleeping and spending time together. At least he thought that was the reason.

"And at some point, I didn't even realize it, but when I looked at the calendar. Hank, I was late. Several days already and I didn't realize it. And normally, like clockwork, I'm on time. Well, not this time. Five days late."

Hank paused in his movement. Was she trying to tell him . . . Hank didn't know what to make of it. Was Kim pregnant? Was that what was bothering her? Being pregnant and not knowing how to tell him? Or how he would react? Had he ever made her feel like she couldn't come to him with something like this? Like he wouldn't be happy if she were to have his child.

"At first, I didn't know what to do. Having to come to terms with the idea myself first. I had to realize it myself. And then, three days or so ago, I was in a drugstore. You know, I bought the test. I always imagined what it would be like. When I'd take a test - like that. I always thought my partner and I would be really excited. We'd go and buy the test together. And then at home, I would take the test and both of us would stare impatiently at the clock until the minutes were up. 'But it wasn't like that,' Kim broke off.

"Kim," he whispered her name softly and put his arms around her from behind. He gave her the strength to continue speaking, because he sensed that there was something more. That there was more weighing on her than the fear of talking to him about it.

"Anyway, I took the test when you were out with Al. I had no idea what result I really wanted. Did I want to be pregnant or not. How would you feel about it? A child with me. You're already a grandfather. And now another baby. I-" A tear rolled down Kim's cheek. And then another.

She had been carrying her worries around with her the whole time. Not daring to talk to Hank about it. Because she hadn't known how he really felt about it. And she still didn't know. In fact, they had never really talked about them having children.

Hank released his hold on her and stepped around the chair. He squatted down in front of Kim and looked directly at her.

"Honey, no matter what that test said, I . . . you could have talked to me about it right away. I would have been there for you. I mean, we would have done it all together. Experienced it together. Did I ever make you feel like you couldn't come to me with your worries and your thoughts?" he asked gently, raising his hand to wipe away the tear.

Kim shook her head. No, she had known that she could have talked to him. And yet, there had been that fear. Fear that hadn't even gone away when she'd held the test result in her hand.

"It was negative," was all she said. And yet, Hank could hear the disappointment in her voice. The disappointment that he also felt in his heart. You see, a child, someone who was part Kim and part him, that was a pleasant thought if he was honest. And maybe, who knew what time would bring. Maybe one day the house would be filled with the pitter-patter of little feet again.