wheelsy_sheriff | [[thursday]]

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[[thursday]]

[And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off]

Bill is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of Frosted Flakes, idly sifting through puzzle pieces. Only a small part of the puzzle is on the tabletop in front of him and the pieces are in the open box beside his elbow, his bowl on the other side.

After waking up it'd taken him awhile to get his bearings, and he was surprised when he discovered he'd slept right on through the day and night.

Kate was asleep and he'd been extra careful not to wake her when he slipped out of bed.

The phone was on the floor beside the bed along with the notepad with the messages she'd taken and he'd brought both with him to the kitchen; they're sitting on the table now, being ignored.

He's scooping up another spoonful of flakes when someone knocks. Turning his head towards the front door he glances at the hallway leading to the bedroom and gets up.

The knock sounds again and he picks up his step, moving quicker to get the door before whoever is on the other side wakes up Kate. Pulling it open he's ready to run off a reporter and instead finds himself staring at a deputy.

"Rudy?"

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Throat working, the edge leaves again and his voice is soft concern as he holds her tighter, gently stroking her hair.

"All right. It's gonna be okay, just some asshole on a phone thinkin' he's tough, that's all."

His eyes slide closed and he ignores the thoughts asking what if it's more?

"Rudy said they didn't see nothin' all night."

His lip twitches and he squeezes her, voice lightening, "Fatso scared the hell outta him, though."

Eyes squeezed shut, she focuses on the feel of his arms around her and his hand in her hair.

It's nothing, just like Dave said last night.

When the sandpaper burn lessens behind her eyes, she lifts her head and almost manages a smile. Her eyes trace his features -- the planes of his face, the curve of his lips, the stubble along his jaw -- and she tilts her head to give him a grateful kiss.

He tastes like sugar, and she's thankful she brushed her teeth as soon as she got up to spare him from morning breath.

He returns the kiss, giving comfort and taking it.

Breaking off the kiss he looks down at her, into her too-tired blue eyes.

"You wanna take the day off? I can handle things now while you get some rest."

She shakes her head.

"I'm okay."

Her thumb strokes the side of his neck.

"When's your appointment?"

You're not.

He shakes his head, hand moving from her hair down to her hip.

"I'm not gonna go. I gotta talk to Dave then I'll call up the doctor's office an' cancel."

He's not going to leave her alone after this and doesn't see himself talking much anyhow.

Her thumb stills; there's an all-too-familiar look in his eyes that twists her stomach.

"Cancel? Why?"

"I-- "

Don't want to go or leave you.

"Like I said, I'll handle things here today. I got a lotta phone calls to return an' might head down to the station to go over things with Dave..."

After she's had a chance to get in more sleep.

She wants to tell him that he should go, that these sessions are important, but what he's saying makes sense.

Don't push him -- not today.

Maybe she's more tired than she thought; maybe she imagined the shadow that passed across his face.

"Okay."

She gives his hand at her hip a gentle squeeze before stepping back, and crosses the kitchen to check for coffee in the pot.

He nods and lets her go, grateful she isn't going to argue him on this.

Watching her go to the coffee pot he speaks up.

"You sure you don't wanna try an' get in some more sleep? It's still kinda early."

She's reaching for a mug, and her fingers freeze for a moment. She knows he's only asking out of concern, and a nap would be smarter than relying on caffeine, but --

Her back to him, she shakes her head slightly and pulls down the cup.

"I'm sure. I'm fine."

"Kate,"

He knows she has to be exhausted, she's been going through everything he has. He doesn't want to push, but looking at her back he can imagine all the weight she must be carrying and can't help but worry about her.

"I think you should."

Her hand is wrapped around the handle of the coffee pot, and she pauses, not lifting it just yet.

Her head turns a fraction, but she doesn't look at him.

"But I -- Bill, if he calls back ... "

I want to know. I want to be awake. I don't want you to pick up the phone.

"Then I'll handle it."

He tries hard not to let that edge slip into his voice but he can't help wondering if she thinks he can't take care of things, and feels a small resentment with the thought.

"I really don't think he'll call back anyways, Kate."

Moving forward he lays his hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be all right."

Her shoulder tenses for a millisecond at the unexpected touch; when she relaxes under his hand, she realizes just how tight her nerves are wound.

"Okay."

Her hand leaves the coffee pot and she takes a half-step back, her shoulder blades pressing against his torso.

"I'm not very good at this."

Her head tips, finding his shoulder, and her eyes close.

"It's been a long time since someone took care of me."

I haven't been doin' a good job of it, either.

He wraps his arms around her again and brushes his lips against her temple.

"It's been the other way around for awhile now, 'bout time you get a break."

With his arms around her and the solid warmth of his body behind her, she wishes the world could shrink to this, only this, for the next twenty-four hours.

When his voice rumbles near her ear and through the back of her robe, she smiles despite the tickling in her throat.

"Now you're just trying to make me lazy."

"Maybe, just so I don't look bad," He smiles. "Figure it's easier to make you lazy than for me to try an' keep up with you."

He knows she needs sleep, and he wants her to get it, but he's still slow in letting her go.

She turns to face him when his arms loosen. She hooks a lock of hair behind one ear with one hand while her other goes to his chest.

"You keep up."

Her index finger draws an invisible line down his sternum.

"You do a lot more than keep up."

I try.

He gives her a warm smile and meets her eyes with a look that says a lot between them.

"Get some rest, I'm here if you need me."

Her cheeks are pink when she lets her eyes fall to her hand between them.

"You could tuck me in."

Both hands slip under the hem of his T-shirt; fingers and palms map skin and muscle and scar tissue.

"It's still too early to call anyone."

His expression changes and it's clear he was missing something and just caught on, her making it obvious helps.

"I could do that."

His skin burns where her hands fall and his heart picks up a step.

She looks up and catches the surprise shading his smile.

"You could," she says with a nod, "but you don't have to."

Her hands slide down his ribs, stilling at his hips, just above the waistband of his sweats. Her thumbs circle his hip bones while her fingertips ghost over elastic.

"I'd hate to force you into anything."

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