Since receiving that initial, devastated text message from Lanie on Friday night, Kate had spent every non-working minute with her heartbroken friend; distracting, consoling, and then distracting some more. She hadn't stepped foot in her own apartment for anything more than a quick shower and change of clothes in two days, and Rick had been planting seeds during their many too-short conversations throughout those two days.
Maybe she needs to get out of her apartment for a bit, he had casually suggested.
Espo had, after all, been practically living in that space for months now. The bathroom still smelled like his bodywash, his clothes were still in the closet, and Lanie couldn't bring herself to put away the pink, floral mug she had jokingly made him use when they first started dating (she had claimed it as his mug, stating the 'cutie with a booty' slogan printed on the side was so obviously him). It stayed in the dish rack, as if he would be back to use it soon. But after working with Espo all weekend, Kate had told Rick that she didn't think there was any chance of that happening.
They're both confused, she had told him via text. Hurt and angry but they refuse to talk about it. It's infuriating, honestly.
Rick held back the urge to point out the fact that communication wasn't exactly her strength either but, as if she could read his mind, she sent another text.
Yes, I know, I'm a hypocrite.
After a little more cajoling, Kate had managed to convince Lanie to spend a few days at her apartment, to step out of her everyday routine and get away from the reminders for a little bit. That was how Rick ended up here, pacing the sidewalk outside Kate's apartment at nine o'clock in the morning, fidgeting nervously with his hands and kicking stones along the concrete as he waited for Jim Beckett.
He tried to avoid the impatient stares from the half a dozen helpers he had hired to assist him for the morning. The plan was good. A little rushed, perhaps, but still good. He had reached out to Ryan and asked for a favour.
Dude, no way! had been the detective's immediate response when asked to covertly acquire Jim Beckett's number. Rick had practically begged for almost twenty minutes but it wasn't until he uttered the words do it for Lanie that Ryan finally caved. He wasn't quite sure what happened now, how the group dynamics would change now that, well... But that wasn't his concern for right now. An hour later, he had the number (alongside a surprisingly terrifying warning to never tell Beckett where he got it from).
The next part of his plan hadn't been quite as easy, however, and even now - after a long phone call to Jim, explaining twice to the man what he had planned - Rick wasn't certain that he had been fully on board. Jim had reluctantly agreed to meet outside Kate's place at 9am: it was now... 9:03.
"Sorry I'm late."
The voice came from behind Rick, loud enough to startle him from his internal panic.
"Jim," Rick breathed out a relieved sigh and extended his hand to the man in greeting. "It's good to see you again." Jim shook the proffered hand politely. "Thanks so much for agreeing to this."
Jim looked over Rick's shoulder, to the small group of men and women hovering close-by, boxes in hand.
"Supplies," Rick offered as explanation. "Would have done it all myself but I'm on a bit of a tight schedule."
Kate was due to finish work at midday - a small benefit to pulling the weekend shift - leaving Rick with less than three hours to have everything set up perfectly for when she and Lanie arrived.
"Remind me, again, why I should let you into my daughter's home without her knowledge?" Jim asked sceptically, still eyeing the hired help.
"Not the apartment," Rick corrected, hoping that would ease some of the older man's concerns. "Just the rooftop. Kate happened to mention that you have a key."
"To be used in case of emergencies," Jim said, his words slow and clear to stress the fact that he wasn't entirely comfortable with using the key without Kate's knowledge.
As a father, Rick understood.
"I promise you, Sir, there's no ill-intent here. I just want to do something nice for her."
Jim remained quiet as he studied Rick, searching his face for some reason - any reason - not to trust him. "I've told you before not to call me Sir," was all he said before he walked toward the building's entrance, tilting his head in a silent instruction for Rick to follow.
"Thank you, S-Jim."
Rick hustled and signalled for his helpers to follow; all eight of them made a beeline for the elevator. As they filled the carriage, Rick turned to Jim and smiled. The man didn't smile back but there was an unmistakable flicker of something in his eyes. Amusement, perhaps, but Rick dared to believe it might have even been approval.
The set-up crew snapped into action as soon as they reached the rooftop. Rick had drawn a rough sketch of the terrace's layout, so they already knew where everything needed to be. They were to set up the evening's activities on the East side of the terrace: A Princess Diaries inspired art session. Rick had planned the entire evening around a single, offhand comment that Kate had made during their movie night. She had told him that the dart art had reminded her of a paint 'n' sip night she had attended with Lanie, where they both had too much wine and caught a case of the giggles, making it near impossible to paint anything even remotely good. Still, she said it had been one of her favourite girl's nights. So, to the side of the makeshift art 'studio', caterers began setting up a table for finger foods and mini bottles of Lanie's favourite champagne.
On the West side of the terrace lay an inflatable day bed. It's size was ridiculous - the width of two king beds, at least - and covered in luxuriously soft blankets and cushions. Kate had mentioned seemingly endless hours laying in bed, complaining about the many faults of the male species over these past few days. If that was what tonight had in store for them, let them at least do it in style: while watching the sun set, and then under the canopy of the night sky.
"Can I help with anything?" Jim offered.
Rick had been so busy prepping the smaller details that he hadn't even noticed the man lingering on the sidelines until now. He looked around, tracking everyone's progress. "I think we have everything under control," he said, then looked at the man who still seemed a little unsure. "Thank you, though."
Jim looked around again. "You've put an awful lot of thought into this, haven't you?"
Rick shrugged. "Not really."
He had, though. He wasn't quite sure why he was denying that.
"This is tame, if I'm being honest." When Jim raised a questioning eyebrow, Rick continued. "I've been told, once or twice, that I can be a little over the top," he admitted with a small, shy smile. "But I'd say she's worth the effort. Wouldn't you?"
For the first time since he had arrived, Jim smiled whole-heartedly. "I would."
Twelve o'clock, on the dot, Rick received a text from Kate letting him know that she was on her way home.
He thanked his helpers, paid them for their time and sent them on their way. He, too, would leave just as soon as Kate and Lanie arrived. Selfishly, he wanted to see their faces when they saw what awaited them. He sent off a quick text, a not-so-subtle remark about heading right to the roof as soon as she got home and received a very cautious what have you done? in response.
So he wasn't at all surprised when half an hour later, Kate stepped out of the greenhouse enclosure with a look of absolute shock and awe on her face.
He was surprised, however, to find that she was alone.
"Where's Lanie?" he asked without so much as a hello.
Kate was too busy taking in the terrace's transformation to care, though. Her eyes were wide as they scanned the space, her mouth agape.
"What is all this?" she finally asked Rick as she walked toward him.
Rick picked up one of the half-filled champagne flutes and passed it to her. "I thought you and Lanie could use a distraction," he explained.
Kate turned her full attention to Rick, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "You did all of this to cheer Lanie up?"
He looked over to the canvas covered dart board. "Well, you happened to mention that throwing darts at stuff-" He accentuated her words with air quotations. "looked cathartic. I figured that might be exactly what you guys need right now."
Her lips curved into a soft smile and that sparkle in her eyes seemed to grow brighter as she brought her hand up to cup his face. Her thumb smoothed along his cheek. "Has anyone ever told you that you're amazing?"
Before he could say something witty and deflect from the meaning of her words, from the intensity of her gaze, she closed the small amount of space between them and pressed a slow, tender kiss to his mouth.
"Thank you," she whispered when she pulled away. "Lanie's going to be sad she missed out."
As if only just remembering why he had done this, Rick asked, "Where is she?"
"She's with Espo," Kate divulged with a smirk.
"Oh, they made up?"
She shook her head.
"Then- oh." Rick considered the situation for just a moment; the last Kate had mentioned, the exes were still both very angry. It really wasn't any of his business, but that didn't stop him from asking, "Is that the best idea?"
Kate sighed. "They're both adults and if they want to keep skirting around the real issue then that's on them. As long as I don't have to pick a side, I'm just going to keep my opinions to myself." She reached beside her and picked the second champagne flute - that had presumably been poured for Lanie - up from the table, holding it out for Rick. He took it, with a thankful smile. "All I can do is be there for her tomorrow, no matter where tonight leads them. Until then, there's no point in letting all this-" She tilted her head toward the makeshift art studio. "go to waste."
Rick smiled and held up his glass. "Let's go make a masterpiece, then."
Their glasses touched with a soft clink and they walked toward the activity.
A soft winter.
That was what the colour palette he had selected was called. Muted greys and earthy blues, soft pinks and deep purples. The artist he had spoken to while organising the canvas had recommended a number of different palettes, claiming warmer tones would probably suit Kate's apartment better (going off of his vague descriptions of the space) but the moment he saw this - a soft winter - he knew it was perfect. He was drawn to the colours, to the way they seemed so... her. And as they stood in front of their masterpiece, now covered in splotches of colour that ran down in thick streaks to cover almost every inch the canvas, he knew he had chosen well.
They had taken their time: eating and drinking, laughing and dancing in between tossing darts (mostly missing their targets but enjoying themselves too much to care) for hours now. A single balloon, in the very centre of the canvas, remained.
Kate picked up a dart and held it out for Rick.
"If you get it on the first try, I'll give you a very special reward," she said.
Part challenge, part tease, part promise.
Rick took the dart from her hand, his fingers hovering over hers. "And if I miss?"
She took a small step closer and smiled. "I might just give it to you anyway."
His eyes dropped to her mouth, watching as her tongue slid along her bottom lip.
"We could just skip to that part," he suggested.
Kate rolled her eyes. "Just throw the dart."
He did, without any sort of care. He hadn't even torn his eyes from her before tossing it haphazardly at the board. A burst of blue exploded and oozed down the canvas; Kate's jaw dropped and she wasn't entirely sure if she was more surprised or impressed.
"I'll take my reward now," he gloated, eyes still glued to her.
But, stubborn as ever, Kate shook her head and forced her mouth into a tight line.
"Changed my mind," she declared before turning on her heel to walk away.
Rick lurched forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her back against his body as he buried his face in the curve where her shoulder met her neck.
"Tease," he whispered against her skin, drawing rambunctious laughter from her.
Her laughter died quickly as he spun her around and crashed his mouth over hers. Her arms looped around his neck and his hands slid into her hair, gripping and pulling her impossibly close. She moaned at the taste of him, at the champagne that still coated his tongue, at the jolts of pleasure that coursed through her body.
Battling to hold onto those last scraps of restraint, she pulled back slowly and rested her forehead against Rick's.
The promise of later shimmered in her eyes.
Rick pressed one last, quick kiss to her lips before he loosened his grip of her hair and moved back over to the canvas.
"I think it turned out well," he said as he properly inspected their work.
Kate curled her arms around his and rested her head on his bicep. "I feel like it's missing something."
He frowned and tilted his head. "Like what?"
Silence.
She wasn't sure what was missing, but she had an idea. After a few short moments of consideration, she stepped forward and dragged her finger through the thick, wet paint. She could feel Rick's eyes on her, his curiosity bubbling up as she wrote in the paint.
K + R
"That's better," she stated as she drew a love heart around the initials.
She took a step back, stopped by Rick's hands on her waist.
He chuckled, low and rough against the shell of her ear. "Look who's showing their sappy side."
"You love it," she countered in a heartbeat.
All Rick could do was smile because, yes, he loved it.
He loved it very much. So much that he didn't even complain when she turned and swiped her paint-covered finger over the tip of his nose. He simply grabbed her face and nuzzled into her until her cheek and neck were also covered in paint.