justdidntseeit | [[ wheelsy, south carolina ]]

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[[ wheelsy, south carolina ]]

[ previously: "'bout damn time." ]

Kate shifts her weight on the stepladder, and twists slightly, all the better to reach the junction box. This new chrome fixture is going to be a gorgeous accent, if she can -- just --

"Ow ow ow ow ow."

She drops the wrench, and presses down on the pinched skin between her thumb and forefinger. A thin line of blood blooms beneath the pressure she applies; she bites her lower lip, blinking hard, and determinedly does not look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

She's not going to cry.

She's not.

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Bill makes it home from the station and his sidetrip to Milliways, and he's smiling, glad that he can deliver good news to Kate for once.

The bottle of bourbon from Raylan still in hand, he walks through the house; heading for the bathroom when he doesn't find Kate in the kitchen or living room.

Hearing the clatter of metal on tile, and Kate's murmuring, he pokes his head around the door and peeks in.

"Kate?"

She sniffles, cradling her hand close to her chest in a futile attempt to lessen the sting.

"Hey," she says, without turning around.

Hearing her tone and sniffle he steps into the bathroom.

"Kate, y'alright?"

Setting his bottle down on the unfinished counter, he steps up to her, leaning to try and get a look at her.

"Yeah," she says, turning her head to give him a small, watery smile. "Just -- stupid."

She uncurls her fist to show him what she's done.

"Oh, ow." He winces for her, and reaches out to take her hand.

"Wrench bit ya, huh?"

He smooths his thumb along her hand below the pinch, giving her a soft smile.

Her eyes fall to their hands, and she nods, breathing an unsteady chuckle.

Another sniffle, and she lifts her head; her eyes flick to the bourbon on the counter, and back to Bill.

"Confiscate some evidence today?" she jokes, with a weak grin.

He keeps rubbing, then takes her hand in both of his and presses a kiss onto the back of hers.

Glancing over at the bottle, he chuckles and shakes his head, smile growing.

"Nope. I got that from Raylan."

Fingers curling around his, her eyebrows lift.

She licks her lips, cautious hope lighting her red-rimmed eyes.

"What?"

He sees that half hope and smiles wider to encourage it and reassure her.

"Yep. Left a note for me with Bar. He's fine, an' the place looks good."

"You found a door," she says, mostly under her breath, as realization sinks in.

She forgets to care about the throb of her self-inflicted injury. Weeks of pent-up worry and suppressed frustration melt from her spine and shoulders.

"That's great, sheriff."

She steps off the ladder with deliberate care, her knees as solid as shredded rubber.

He lets her go, giving her room to get down, but hovering close in case she needs support.

"Yep, walkin' out of the station."

Her fingers brush his, tangling a heartbeat later.

"And everything's ... okay?"

Or, more accurately, everyone, but she can't quite voice that question -- not yet.

"Yeah." He nods, and the relief he felt when he walked into Milliways returns. "Place is fine."

He squeezes her hand, passing on comfort and reassurance.

"Raylan left a note, an' I ran into Doc an' Will. No one really knows what happened or why, but everyone came through it okay."

She tips her head to look at him, the weeks-old knot in her stomach loosening at last.

"Good," she says, nodding. A tiny, heartfelt smile curves the corners of her mouth. "That's good."

That smile cures him of his own tension surrounding the mystery of what was going on in Milliways, and it makes him feel good to see her better, knowing what she was going through these last few weeks.

"Milliways pulls through again."

"Mm-hmm," she murmurs in agreement, winding her arms around his neck. "I'm kind of sad I missed the reunion."

But that disappointment doesn't lessen her relief, or dampen how pleased she is to know the bar's still functional.

Low, and a little playful: "Looks like you had a good time, though."

He steps closer, resting his hands on her hips.

"We'll have t'get you back there soon so you can visit, too."

Bowing his head closer to hers, his smile quirks into one that's more amused and pleased.

"Yeah well, folks missed me. Had t'do the welcome back proper an' all."

"Oh, of course," she says, with a light laugh.

But even as she reminds herself that it was only a couple of rounds -- a couple of harmless rounds -- she can't ignore the slight twist deep in her stomach that accompanies the familiar smell of alcohol on his breath.

"And I guess Marshal Givens was feeling generous?"

Bill chuckles and gives a nod.

"Yeah, real generous. That's top shelf bourbon there."

Nodding at the bottle, he leans back in to rest his forehead against hers.

"He said it might help in dealin' with the Twilight Zone that happened."

"That's a nice way of putting it," she says, bemused, as she tilts her head to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His eyes slide closed when her lips press to his skin, and his features are warm when his eyes reopen.

"I figure that's the best way t'look at it so the whole thing don't make me nuts."

She doesn't bother reining in a wicked, slow-spreading grin.

"Too late, sheriff."

He tries for a mock surprised look but only gets a wider grin for his efforts.

"You callin' me crazy, Kate?"

"To your face," she says, as if she's doing him a favor. "Doesn't that get me any brownie points?"

"Hmm... " He strokes her hips, thumbing the rivets on the pockets of her jeans as he mulls her words over.

"I reckon, as long as you keep up the story that I'm in my right mind when we're in public."

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