WORTH WORKING FOR
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


EARLY JUNE
39 WEEKS

Kate's bored.

She's been on leave for six hours, and she's going out of her mind.

Rick wanted to stay home with her, but she insisted that he continue to shadow Ryan and Esposito. He finished the Nikki Heat book and is waiting for final edits, but once Cosmo arrives, he'll be off work along with her, so he's doing as much as he can for the next week or so.

She has an OB-GYN appointment tomorrow, but aside from that, she's just…

She groans as she drops onto the couch and opens a book.

Nothing. She's just doing nothing.

She'd been tempted to bring a case file or two home, or have the boys read her into cases they catch, but almost immediately vetoed it. She's not just working from home. She's off work.

Her phone buzzes on the coffee table, and she reaches over, grins when she sees the message from Rick.

Miss me yet?

She chuckles and sends a quick reply.

Not as much as you miss me.

Truer words have never been spoken. Well, typed.

A few seconds pass, and a follow up appears:

I might need you to bring me coffee.

She laughs at his text, which he accompanied with a winking face emoji.

In a bit. Just started a new book.

I thought you've read all of mine. Or did you hack into my laptop to read Heat Wave?

No.

Chuckling to herself, she sends a picture of the book she grabbed.

Ugh, Patterson? The bane of my existence.

Then why was it on your bookshelf?

She watches as the dots that show he's typing appear and disappear several times, and laughs when he just replies with touché.

She sets her phone back down when he says they got a case, and she opens the book, settles into the cushions, trying to get comfortable. It'll be no time at all until she doesn't have this quiet solitude anymore, she knows, so she manages to tuck her legs under her and tries to concentrate.

A loud noise startles her awake, and she looks around, notices that her book fell on the ground. She tries to bend down to pick it up, but her son must not like that, because he kicks her - hard.

Muttering a curse as she stands, she grabs her phone and wanders into the kitchen. It's only about lunchtime, so she opens the refrigerator in search of some food.

Something, anything, that might sound good.

As she rifles through the various containers of leftovers, she notices that some of the lids don't seem to match.

Well, that won't do.

Grabbing some slices of cheese to snack on, she turns her attention to the tupperware cupboard, lowers herself to her knees and opens the door. It isn't too bad, she tells herself, but as she starts pulling out containers, she can see that Rick has collected a few different styles, and the lids have ended up pretty much scattered.

She's so caught up in organizing - and then reorganizing when she isn't satisfied with the first result - that she doesn't realize how much time passes until she hears the front door open and Rick call her name.

"I'm ho-oh." Rick's jaw drops when he turns the corner, his eyes roaming over the piles of containers surrounding her. "What are you up to?" he asks, leaning against the counter.

She glances up, then resumes stacking the containers back into the cupboard. "Reorganizing. There are a couple extra lids," she adds, pointing to the stray lids she tossed aside.

"Okay." Rick kneels down in front of her and grabs a container. "How about I help put these away, then we can figure out dinner?"

"Tell me about the case," Kate says a few minutes later, settling into her usual spot at the counter and sliding over a cutting board.

"Oh my God." Rick's face lights up, and she grins at his excitement. "You'd love it. Oh! And did the guys tell you, we solved that fairytale case."

Relief floods through her as he explains the case that she'd left unsolved, along with the familiar bittersweet feeling that always accompanies each closure. Finding answers for families is satisfying, knowing that, at the very least, they know who is responsible for their loss.

But the victim is still gone, the hole in the lives of those left behind still there. It gets smaller over time, or at least is easier to live with. She knows that personally.

God, she misses her mom.

She pushes those thoughts to the back of her mind, though, listens to Rick explain the case they caught earlier, one involving an inspector from Scotland Yard and a potential government conspiracy. They're at a minor standstill, he explains, needing to figure out how to get a fingerprint from someone with diplomatic immunity, but they'll get there.

She falls into a routine for the next week: waking whenever Cosmo decides she should, making Rick breakfast and coffee - which she's happy to do, she insists that first morning, when he argues that he should be doing it for her - seeing him out the door, then spending her day cleaning or organizing or whatever her body tells her to do. She surprises Rick by scrubbing the baseboards, washing all of the baby clothes - three times - and reorganizing Rick's closet by color.

And then, recognizing the annoyance he couldn't quite hide, putting his closet back the way it was before.

They're in constant contact, even when he's at the precinct, with him checking on her, making sure she feels okay, her pestering him about the cases they catch that week. They go over them at night, Rick sometimes taking pictures of the murder board so she can work it alongside him.

She misses the hustle and bustle of the precinct and the streets, but she does try to enjoy the quiet solitude, the calm before the storm - the storm being the newborn that's about to upend their lives, of course.

As week 39 turns into week 40 and her due date passes with no labor in sight, though, she's had about enough of this bullshit.

"What do you want for dinner?" Rick asks, shutting the door behind him and holding onto her waist as she toes off her shoes.

Kate groans in frustration. They're home from her 40-week checkup, where she was told, in no uncertain terms, that Cosmo appears to be in no hurry to enter this world.

Which…that's fair, considering. But it sucks for her. She wants to be able to sleep - and do other things - on her back again, be able to bend or kneel down without feeling like she won't get back up, go more than five minutes without having to pee.

Cosmo may be taking his sweet time, but he sure as hell isn't making it easy on her.

"Indian," she answers Rick, thinking of what Dr. Stevens told her. She could potentially trigger labor a few ways, one of which is eating spicy foods. "Or Thai. I really don't care, I just need enough spice to get this kid out of me."

The corner of Rick's mouth quirks, and he pulls his phone from his pocket. "Done."


MID-JUNE
41 WEEKS

The spicy food doesn't work.

Neither does sex, she bemoans with regret as Rick snores softly behind her.

They're trying - oh, are they trying - but they've had sex almost every morning and night for a week and a half, and nothing. Not a damn contraction. And a steady diet of five-star spice has just given her more heartburn.

She squirms and presses her palm against her lower belly, trying to alleviate the slight pain there. It's been off and on all day, more annoying than anything. But it doesn't feel like what she's expecting to signal her labor, more of a minor cramp rather than a contraction.

Sliding out of bed, she glances back to make sure Rick doesn't wake, and she wanders into the kitchen. It's been weeks since she's had a full night's sleep, and she's developed somewhat of a routine when she's up in the middle of the night.

Almost on autopilot, she puts on the kettle for tea, and she leans against the counter, sighs as she rubs her fingers against the dull ache low in her belly.

God, it's annoying.

Trying to remember what Dr. Stevens said to expect as she gets closer and closer to labor, she makes the tea and takes it upstairs. She settles into the rocker in the corner of the nursery, and as she slowly glides the chair back and forth, sipping her tea, she lets her mind wander and her imagination take over.

She can easily see what her life will be like in the near future, can almost feel her baby in her arms. As nervous as she is about being a mom - hell, about having a baby in general - she knows she's done about all she can do to prepare.

"You can take all the classes," her dad had said when he came over for lunch earlier in the week, "but at the end of the day, you'll do the best you can."

She and Rick have taken a bunch of classes, that's for sure. They've put more diapers on dolls than she can count, and she could probably do that in her sleep.

It's the rest of it that terrifies her.

"What if he's crying and I can't figure out why? If he isn't hungry, or needs to be changed, how the hell will I fix whatever's wrong if I don't know what's wrong?" she'd asked.

Her dad had smiled and patted her shoulder. "Then you just be there for him until he stops."

She winces again when she's hit with a sudden cramp in her lower belly. Almost like a period cramp, she observes, but more intense.

What the hell had Dr. Stevens said about contractions?

When she feels another one a short time later, Kate realizes she should've kept track of how much time had passed. It couldn't have been that long.

Okay, she thinks when the dull ache gets stronger, I think it's time to go.

Making her way downstairs, she glances towards the door, notes her duffel bag - her go-bag, as Rick has been calling it - by the door.

Good.

"Rick," she whispers when she's at his side, tapping his shoulder.

He doesn't budge.

She rolls her eyes. Of course this is when he'd be difficult to wake up.

She shoves his shoulder instead. "Rick!"

He jerks awake and looks around, quickly sits up when he sees her at the side of the bed. "What is it? What's wrong?" His gaze drops to her belly, and his eyes widen. "Is it…"

She nods. "I think so."


"I guess that wasn't it," she grumbles a few hours later, unlocking the door.

Rick holds the door open and follows her in, drops the duffel bag in its spot by the door. "Well, we've been meaning to do a dry run at 3:30 in the morning."

Kate levels a glare at him, but relaxes when he gives her a crooked grin. "Funny," she drawls. "I'm just glad we waited to call everyone. No point in having our parents there when it's just damn Braxton-Hicks."

Rick chuckles and drapes his arm around his shoulders, pulls her in, and drops a kiss to the top of her head. "I don't think they would've minded," he assures her. "Since we know he's still not going anywhere, do you want breakfast? Or try and sleep a little more?"

She groans and slides onto her usual chair at the counter. "As if I could sleep," she whines. "I'm so wired I don't think I even need coffee."

"Breakfast it is."

"I just want it done," she complains, dropping her forehead to the counter. "Why isn't anything working? Do I have to walk the whole damn island or something to get this kid out?"

A mug appears next to her head, and she lifts it and takes a sip. "Thanks," she murmurs when she recognizes the peppermint tea that she's grown fond of.

Rick joins her at the counter and rubs his hand along her back. "We'll get there, Kate. It's only a matter of time."

She scoffs. "Yeah, well, it'd be nice if the time was sooner rather than later."

Rick's phone dings with a notification, and he pulls it from his pocket, winces when he reads it. "The guys have a new case," he explains, tilting the screen so Kate can see.

Guy claims to have been attacked by a zombie. You in?

"I'll catch up with them later," he says, typing.

"No, don't." Kate covers his hand with hers. "Go."

He studies her for a long moment. "I don't want to leave you alone," he argues, flipping his hand under hers.

She offers him a small smile. "I'm fine, Rick. I'm just gonna mope all day, but physically, I'm good." When he still hesitates, she leans forward and brushes a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. "I'll call Lanie or my dad in a bit, see if either of them can come over."

Rick sighs and pushes himself out of his chair. "If you're sure. But call me if something - anything - happens, okay?"

She grips the front of his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. "Nothing's going to happen, you'll see."


"You've settled in well," Lanie says a few hours later, motioning to the kitchen cabinet where a few of Kate's mugs sit, mixed in with Rick's matching white ones.

Kate rolls her eyes, but feels her cheeks warm with embarrassment. "It's just a few mugs," she murmurs, lifting her tea and taking a sip.

One of Lanie's brows lifts, and she grabs one of the mugs and quickly prepares her own tea before joining Kate on the couch. "And a few picture frames," she teases. "Don't think I don't recognize that throw pillow, too."

Refusing to look at her best friend, Kate focuses her gaze on the throw pillow in question. After the conversation with Rick over Memorial Day weekend, when he'd invited her to bring as many of her things to his place as she wanted, she had done just that.

She brought the vast majority of her clothes, but also followed his suggestion to move other things, to make his home feel more like hers as well. So, she also packed some mugs, various knick knacks, and even a couple throw pillows and blankets.

Now, when she looks around and sees a few of her possessions integrated seamlessly amongst his, she doesn't feel quite as much like an outsider. His apartment has felt like a home for a long time, she's admitted to herself, but it feels like more now.

Now, it feels like she really belongs here.

"How are you feeling?" Lanie asks, interrupting her thoughts.

Kate tightens her grip on her tea. "Fine, I guess. Miserable, kind of over it. Ready for him to come, scared shitless for the day he does." She shrugs. "All of the above."

"And Rick?"

She sighs, her lips turning up at the mention of his name. "He's been great. He practically waits on me hand and foot, as much as I try to stop him, and he's so damn excited, it's almost ridiculous."

Looking up, she notices the grin on Lanie's face. "What?"

"You've got it so bad."

Her cheeks burn. "That obvious, huh?"

Lanie leans back against the arm of the couch. "He popped the question yet?"

Poor timing, Kate thinks when she spits out the very hot tea she'd just sipped. "Oh my God, Lanie."

"Just saying." Lanie gets up and returns a moment later with a dish towel, and quickly wipes off the table. "Considering the cute, dopey look you both get when the other is mentioned, it wouldn't surprise me one bit."

Kate falls silent, lets her thoughts wander as her friend throws the dirty towel into the laundry room.

She hasn't fully moved in yet - they haven't even revisited the conversation they began in the Hamptons. Officially living together is the logical next step in their relationship, and she'd be lying to herself if she said she's never fantasized about forever.

She rests her palm on her belly, smiles when she feels the kick against her hand.

Forever with Rick would be pretty damn great, actually.

"Yo!"

Kate startles and turns her attention back to Lanie, her cheeks burning at the knowing look on her friend's face. "'Yo?'" she echoes with a smirk of her own. "Spending lots of time with Javi?"

Lanie narrows her eyes, but she doesn't hide her smile. "Well," she drawls, "we're just enjoying each other's company. No strings, just, you know, having a good time."

Kate lifts a brow. "Uh-huh. Shit," she breathes, feeling another kick against her ribs.

"You good?"

"Yeah, just-" She squirms, trying to get comfortable. "This fucking sucks."

Lanie chuckles. "Well, he'll be here before you know it."


The ache in her back won't go away.

She must've moved wrong during the night, because she woke with a slight twinge in her lower back, an ache that even her trusty heating pad can't quite touch.

Rick had stayed home and consulted with the boys on the phone, but his concern and constant hovering got really annoying really fast. She just about pushed him out the door around eleven, insisted that she'd be fine, their phones work just fine, and promised that she'd call him at the first hint of a contraction.

Still, she isn't surprised when her dad shows up just an hour after her boyfriend leaves.

"Rick called me," Jim admits with a sheepish smile, setting a grocery bag on the counter and unloading it. "Asked that I be here, just in case."

Kate eyes the food containers that her dad places on the counter. "You know we have groceries, right? Rick stocked every single craving I've had, just in case."

Jim lets out an amused snort. "Sounds like him," he jokes. "I know, but neither of you will want to, or be able to, feed yourself worth a damn when he comes. The most helpful thing anyone did for your mom and me was provide us with food," he explains, opening the freezer and stacking the containers inside. "So when you're sick of cereal and takeout, throw one of these in the oven."

Kate grabs the edge of the counter and tries to stretch, to alleviate the back ache. "Thanks, Dad."

Jim glances at her, and he must see something in her face, because he almost teleports to her side. "What's wrong? Contraction?"

She shakes her head. "No, just tweaked something. I'm a little sore, but I'm fine. You really didn't need to come over, you know."

"Sure I did. I was going to come by anyway." Jim drapes an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "I don't have many more opportunities to spend one-on-one time with my little girl."

Kate rolls her eyes at the sentiment, but still blinks back tears of gratitude.

She and her dad have always been close, even in her rebellious teen years. She and her mom would butt heads, too similar for their own good, and Jim would step in as the voice of reason. They had a rough patch in the wake of her mom's death, both of them working through their grief in their own ways, but over the past near-decade, have grown closer than ever.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a cramp in her lower belly. It's not painful, not really, mostly takes her by surprise, but she gasps anyway, leans forward against the counter.

"Katie?"

She shakes her head and straightens back up when the cramp fades. There's another sensation, and she feels something trickle down her leg. She looks up at her dad, sure that the panic she's beginning to feel is written all over her face. "We better call Rick. I think my water just broke."


A/N: There will be one more chapter, followed by an epilogue.