justdidntseeit: (time here all but means nothing)
[ "three days." ]
Kate's asleep on her side in Boo's too-small bed, neck bent at an awkward angle. One arm is draped around Boo's snoring form, and the fingers of her free hand are still loosely curled around a dog-eared paperback on the pink comforter. An impressive assortment of Boo's books litter the floor, and a small stack is perched precariously between the edge of the mattress and Kate's heel.

She hasn't been sleeping long, her breathing still shallow and features not as relaxed as they could be.
justdidntseeit: (peering)
[ an officer and a gentleman ]
Mr. Spiny is missing.

Kate's searched everywhere -- beneath her bed, in Boo's room, even the freezer, just in case -- and he's is nowhere to be found.

On a quick recon mission, she zips down the hall to see if he's in Bill's room, and --

Oh my god.
justdidntseeit: (all work and no play)
[ after this and this ]
Kate blinks awake, her sleep-fogged brain registering the fact that there's only one person in bed with her instead of two.

She vaguely remembers Bill's lips near her ear -- "I'm just goin' downstairs for some coffee, you want me to bring y'anything?" -- and her own near-incoherent nnnmkay.

Stifling a yawn, she sits up, careful not to disturb Boo still sleeping beside her. She adjusts the sheet and comforter around Boo before easing out of bed and padding into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.

She feels closer to awake as she quietly brews a pot of coffee in the kitchen, then curls up on the couch to write out a few notes to leave with Bar.
justdidntseeit: (polaroid)
[ "she doesn't seem to be a fan of doctor's offices as it is." ]
With Boo cradled in her arms, Kate leans against the wall just outside her room while Bill unlocks the door.

The stress of the past few hours -- capturing Cruella, searching the empty apartment, rescuing Boo -- is catching up to her as her body reminds her of the spill she took in Cruella's kitchen.

"Home safe, half-pint," she says into Boo's hair. "We'll get you a nice bath and some clean pajamas."
justdidntseeit: (startled)
[ "opening the door will not get your child back, darlings." ]
Boo's not here.

They're combing the filthy penthouse -- checking closets, cupboards, the bathtub, even behind the dust-caked velvet curtains -- and she's not here.
justdidntseeit: (at a loss)
[ "boo's not at home like we thought." ]
She loses count of the cups of coffee she downs.

Her head hurts and her eyes feel like they've been scrubbed with sandpaper, but she doesn't want to leave the bar proper.

But when Bill finally convinces her to take a break -- she'd fallen asleep with one cheek on a legal pad -- she almost doesn't think she'll make it up the stairs.

She leans into him, grateful for his arm around her, and when they reach her door, she fumbles twice before it's unlocked.
justdidntseeit: (smiles in shades of gray)
[ "we can't cancel, can we?" ]
She threads her fingers with Bill's as she takes his proffered hand.

(Convincing him had been easy; a simple, "It's your last weekend as a free man -- let's go out on Saturday" had gotten an immediate smile and a nod of agreement. The hard part was assuring him they should stay in town instead of driving to Columbia for a night out.)

Gravel crunches beneath her heels as she slides from the cab of the truck.

"S'pretty crowded tonight," he says with a glance around the parking lot.

"Let's hope there's not another rodeo on," she teases, squeezing his hand. She ignores the tight feeling in the pit of her stomach and doesn't let herself double-check for June's car as they cross the gravel lot.

Bill holds the door for her and she ducks inside; the four-piece band stops warming up and the lodge buzzes with the hushed hum of nearly a hundred people.

When Bill steps in beside her, the house lights flash.

"SURPRISE!"

Resisting the urge to bite the inside of her cheek (and stifling a laugh at the hand-painted Welcome Back Sherr Sheriff!! banner), Kate turns to give him a hopeful smile.
justdidntseeit: (so careful when i'm in your arms)
[ returns and revelations ]
She's jet-lagged, but she can't sleep.

The house is almost too quiet, and Bill's been awake since they settled in bed.

(She knows he's worried about Katherine, worried about Doc -- she is, too.)

She inches closer to his side and presses a kiss to the curve of his jaw, just below his earlobe.

"Too tired to sleep?"
justdidntseeit: (silly)
[ "what do y'feel like drinkin'?" ]
It's more of a hovel than a hotel, but Kate doesn't particularly care -- she's enamored with the (hideous) decor.

(If she were less intoxicated, she'd be more impressed that she and Doc and their bags made it to the top of the stairs and into the matchbox-sized room.)

She slings her tote onto the bed with a careless, drunken grace and picks up a throw pillow.

"This is amazing."

She runs her fingers through its fringe.

"It's cowboys, Doc. Not the football team, either -- real ones. It's like a -- an homage."

She glances around the room -- four walls, the bed, a rickety dresser, and a couch that's more of a loveseat.

"But where's the other bed?"
justdidntseeit: (all work and no play)
The wireless signal in Bill's bedroom kind of sucks. But at least it's there, unlike in some areas of the house.

Kate's sitting against the headboard with her laptop, sporting a frayed Wheelsy Cooters T-shirt (complete with faded mascot) and a pair of orange yoga pants, her hair in loose twin braids.

She's double-checking the flight information for tomorrow's trip to New Mexico, making sure the departure time hasn't changed.

Or she would be double-checking it, if the page would load.
justdidntseeit: (pretty pretty ponytail)
[ pillow talk ]
It's still dark when Kate eases out of the bedroom for her morning run, closing the door with a quiet click. Zipping up her thin fleece jacket, she heads for the kitchen; the smell of coffee fills her nose, and she's glad Bill remembered to set the timer last night -- if Doc wakes before Bill (which she's sure he will) and before she gets back, he'll only have to grab a mug from the cabinet.

She's pulling her hair into a ponytail as she enters the kitchen, her eyes adjusting to the dim light they'd left burning over the stove.
justdidntseeit: (so careful when i'm in your arms)
[ "sex ain't about controllin' someone." ]
She shivers when Bill slips beneath the sheets again, her heart rate nearly back to normal as she fits herself along his side.

"Hey."

He wraps an arm around her and pulls her closer.

"Hey."

She pillows her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes, tracing an invisible line down his sweat-damp chest with one fingertip.

Concentrating on his closeness, she still can't quite force away a worry that's been building in the pit of her stomach since her talk with Doc a few hours ago.

"Can I ask you something?"
justdidntseeit: (the family way)
[ "i believe i have met your sister, kate." ]
Marie's been in the bar.

Kate all but stumbles inside the kitchen, gripping the back of one of the wooden chairs with her free hand as soon as the door closes behind her.

(She didn't want to show any more weakness than she already had as she left Milliways and Ramon's cruel smile.)

Knuckles bloodless around the smooth curve of oak, she can't stop the shuddering breaths that burn in her lungs and catch in her throat.

don't cry don't cry don't cry, Bill doesn't need this, not now

But her stomach's on fire and the walls are underwater; sinking into the chair, she squeezes shut her eyes. The ice pack is on the table in front of her, forgotten.
justdidntseeit: (laugh)
[ stay, little valentine, stay ]
"Isn't it a little early for you?"

A quiet squeak (and is that amusement she hears?) is her only response.

Kate thanks the wait-rat with a hoarse, sleep-fogged whisper and closes the door to her suite. Cupcake in hand, she can't help but smile at Bill's still-sleeping form sprawled and tangled in the sheets.

She re-reads the note in the gray pre-dawn light before placing the saucer on the nightstand. Licking a stray smear of buttercream frosting from her thumb, she slips into bed.

"Nggh, kinda dumbass don't know -- "

She brings a fist to her mouth so she won't laugh.

"Show y'how ... chop block ... "

Leaning over, she presses a kiss to his bare shoulder; he still smells like summer and sunblock and sex.

"Below 'em, fuck-face."

She almost snorts when she sees his expression -- eyes closed, his brow is creased and his mouth is a firm line. Licking her lips, she glances from Bill to the cupcake. And grins.

Shifting, she snags the saucer and scoops up a bit of frosting with one finger, then applies a barely-there dollop to his shoulder. She bends to lick the icing from his skin, and he murmurs when her tongue swirls around the spot.

So she does it again.

And again.

When her mouth finds his collarbone, he lets out a soft groan.

"The -- Kate?"

"Mmm."

"Whatcha doin'?"

She lifts her head and licks frosting from her finger.

"Nothing."

A slow smirk tugs at one corner of his mouth. "Supposed to be just for you, birthday girl."

"But what if I feel like sharing?" She swipes another fingerful of icing from the cupcake and dabs some on his lower lip.

His grin (and the sound of approval when her tongue meets his) tells her he doesn't mind the change in plan; it's her birthday, after all.
justdidntseeit: (baby it's cold outside)
[ "morning, valentine." ]
"I think we've got everything."

Kate's dressed in a pair of riding boots, tan breeches, white button-down, and the coat Bill got her for Christmas, leather gloves tucked in one pocket. (She's wearing her swimsuit beneath her clothes, and Bill's carrying a small beach bag filled with supplies from Bar -- towels, sunscreen, bottled water, snacks and a couple of magazines -- that'll have to be tucked into their saddlebags.)

She gives his free hand a squeeze as they reach the stables.
justdidntseeit: (o christmas tree)
[ surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and i shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever ]
The funeral passes in a muted blur, a Monet of hushed condolences and sniffling.

Her thumb traces Bill's knuckles in a steady back-and-forth during the service, and she can't stop snapshots of eulogies of past funerals (her mom; ralph burton; agent don richards; agent george mason) from sliding between the pastor's words.

(And it could so easily be Bill in that casket, wearing the uniform he's in right now.)

She folds her hand in his when they stand.

It's a short drive to the cemetery, and she hugs her white wool dress coat closer to her body, thankful for its length and for her matching leather gloves. She doesn't flinch through the 21-gun salute, and when it's over, her ears are stinging with sound and cold.

Once the crowd begins to disperse, she hangs back and waits for Bill, not wanting to intrude while he speaks with Mrs. Hargrove. Kate stands a short distance away, trying to smile at the two-year-old with wide, curious green eyes and pink-mittened hands tugging at the hem of her coat.

(Her name is Savannah, and she'll never know her father.)

Kate crouches and they make tiny snowmen from the dusting on the grass.

Her throat is tight while she watches the little girl rejoin her mother and Bill steps closer, his cheeks red and eyes on the frozen ground. She reaches for his hand, grateful for the squeeze he gives her fingers as they walk to the truck.


- - - - -


They don't talk on the way back to Wheelsy, and that's okay.

Once they're in the house and Bill has closed the door behind them, she turns and wraps her arms around his waist.
justdidntseeit: (wheelsy)
[ "get some rest." ]
Kate doesn't remember falling asleep, but the sun is streaming through the curtains; squinting at the clock, she's surprised to see it's almost ten -- she's been out for more than three hours.

Closer to coherent after she's pulled on her robe, brushed her teeth and washed her face, she follows the sound of Bill's quiet voice coming from the kitchen.

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justdidntseeit: (Default)
Kate Warner

May 2012

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