7. Misery loves company

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"You screwed up." His mother simply stated when he walked back into the loft later that day.

"What?" He almost shrieked. "Mother, what makes you think that?" He shook his head, acting as if him screwing up anything was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"I know you," came the dry reply from the kitchen, a knowing look on his mother's face.

Slumping down into the couch, he pressed his fingers into his eye sockets and grunted in frustration until he finally admitted, "I did screw up, big time."

His mother sighed. Of course he had, like he always did when his heart was involved. He had a tendency to over do it, to go too far and cross a line, whenever he feared his hopes or his heart could be dashed.

Fetching them both a drink she joined him on the couch, patting his knee to get his attention. When he lifted his head from the back rest and opened his eyes to look at her she handed him a Scotch on the rocks and ordered him to down it, taking a sip herself.

"Thank you," he nodded, taking a big gulp. He let the liquor burn down his throat, hoping it would numb the feeling of guilt that had settled in his stomach, gnawed on him with tiny, sharp teeth. He had been such an idiot. He'd probably ruined all his chances with Kate and Jamie after his performance today. If she didn't call him, he couldn't even blame her. He wouldn't call himself after that performance either.

Martha waited him out, giving him time to regroup and organize his thoughts before she gently prodded him to share, the knowing look returning to her face, "So Kiddo, tell me. What did you do?"

He gave her a look back for her wording. Seriously, some support from your own mother from time to time would be nice, even if she had hit the nail on the head this time.

"Alexis?" He asked, looking nervously up the stairs, side stepping her question.

"Don't worry. Your daughter is in her room re-reading the last Harry Potter. She won't be down for hours – or possibly even days if we don't call her down for dinner." Martha rolled her eyes in amusement.

"Harry Potter?" Rick frowned. "Again? This is like the 12th time she's read it."

"Don't look at me," his mother waved him off. "That's certainly a character trait she inherited from you."

He grinned at that, proud his daughter had adopted his love for words and books along with his enthusiasm for laser guns, Sci-Fi and a lot of other childish things he liked to do, preferable with his daughter. It hit him again that he might have blown his chance to ever learn what Jamie liked or would grow up to like. Placing his still half full glass on the coffee table, he turned to his mother and taking a deep breath he started to tell her what happened, "I threatened her." He said, looking miserable and guilty.

"Richard?" His mother was shocked. She knew her son, it was not like him to take such measures and from the look on his face she could tell it was bad. "What did you say to that girl?"

"I more or less threatened to take her daughter away from her," he bowed his head, not able to bear his mother's disappointed look.

"You said that to her?" Martha couldn't believe it.

"Not exactly, but my words kind of implied it," he nodded.

"I don't understand. What made you say something like this?" Her eyes were intent on him, knowing there must be more to the story. Yes, he was easily excited and that could be either a good or a bad thing, but he wouldn't lose control like this without any provocation.

"When I got to the precinct, she wasn't there, so I waited. And when she finally showed up she was so mad at me. I don't even know why. She just kept telling me to go and that Jamie was none of my business," his pleading eyes met his mother's, hoping to find some kind of understanding in them. "All I wanted was to talk, but she just kept pushing and I lost it. I told her I would enforce a paternity test and fight her in court if I had to," he took a deep breath before he repeated the most awful part, "and then I asked her who she thought held the better cards when it came down to it."

"Richard." Martha gaped in shock.

"I know, I know," he sighed, head in his hands. "I didn't mean it, but I was so angry."

Martha leant back into the couch, eyes trained ahead at nothing in particular as they were silent for awhile, both lost in thought. Martha knew her son only said those words because he felt helpless. She knew, better than anyone, what being a father meant to him. He felt it was a privilege and he did everything he could, everyday of the year to make sure he honored this privilege. So she did understand how being afraid he wouldn't be given this chance could make him snap and lose control. Still his behavior was not acceptable.

"What now?" Martha asked after a while, turning back to face her son.

"I asked her to call me," he shrugged. "But I doubt she will. Hell, I wouldn't call myself. Maybe you were right, maybe she never meant for me to find out." Lifting fearful eyes to his mother, he looked like the little boy who had lost his favorite teddy bear when he was five. "What do I do, mom?"

"Ah, kiddo," she pulled him into a hug, not able to give him anything else right now. She had no idea. She had restrained her own hopes and excitement so far, focussing on being a supportive mother instead of the chance to be a grandmother for the second time, because deep down she was thrilled. She loved Alexis more than anything in the world, there was nothing she wouldn't do for the girl and that wouldn't be any different with Jamie. But there was also a part of her that still doubted the child was actually her son's daughter. She needed official confirmation to be sure, lacking the unwavering belief her son had. Nevertheless there had been a tiny part of her that couldn't help but feel excited when Rick had left to talk to Kate. She would hide her own disappointment after hearing how things had progressed, knowing her son needed her to be the strong one right now, there to pick him up if things really were irreparable.

She opened the front door to her apartment and hearing her daughter giggle in the living room, her heart immediately felt lighter than it had all day.

Royce had actually sent her home early, with what she could only describe as a pitiful look on his face. She'd accepted it and gotten out of the precinct, not wanting to feel his understanding, compassionate eyes on her back any longer. It's not that she wasn't grateful for his support. There weren't many people she could rely on, many people whom she allowed herself to trust. Royce was one of the few and she was glad he was watching out for her and Jamie but that didn't mean she wanted him to know the truth about Rick. He had never asked her about Jamie's father, it was an unspoken agreement between them that it was a topic not to be touched and she wanted to keep it that way.

She placed her service weapon in the safe in her hallway closet, shedding her shoes before she walked into the living room.

Jamie was sitting on the couch watching a cartoon which apparently was very funny, judging by her continuous giggles.

Cynthia had already spotted her in the doorway, nodding at her and smiling when she saw Kate's eyes light up watching her daughter laugh.

"Hey Buttercup," Kate finally made herself known, crossing the room to sit down next to her daughter.

"Mommy!" Jamie exclaimed happily, jumping directly into her mother's arms. "Jamie watch cartoon."

"I see that," Kate smiled, tugging Jamie into her side. "And it's obviously very funny."

"Yes, very funny." Jamie confirmed returning her attention back to the TV. She was rarely allowed to watch cartoons or TV at all, so for now it was apparently more thrilling than her mom being home.

With a chuckle, Kate kissed her daughter's forehead, "I'll be right back, Sweetie." She told her, brushing some curls from her forehead, before getting up.

"'kay," the girl replied, not once taking her eyes from the story unfolding on screen.

"You're home early," Cynthia stated, when the two women made their way to the front door, grabbing her bag from the floor next to the door.

"Yeah, apparently miracles do happen after all," Kate smiled tiredly.

"You okay, Kate?" Cynthia asked, her eyebrows furrowing when giving the younger woman a closer look. She knew Kate's job was stressful, but today she looked not only tired but defeated, "You look beat."

"I'm okay. It's been a tough day, that's all," Kate tried to assure the other woman, who was only partly convinced. But there was nothing Cynthia could do. Kate never talked about her feelings or what worried her. She was a closed book to everyone but her daughter and maybe sometimes her training officer and partner Royce. And Cynthia was glad that Kate at least allowed him to keep an eye on them. She knew Kate was a strong, confident, independent woman, but New York could be dangerous and it was good the two of them had Royce just in case.

But only when Kate was with Jamie did she truly open up and become a different person. Cynthia had witnessed the transformation countless times; that moment the haunted, lost look in Kate's eyes turned into one of pure love and adoration. Kate Beckett certainly was a beautiful woman, but when she smiled at her daughter, she was downright breathtaking. Cynthia often wondered why there was no man at her side. She had given up asking about Jamie's father a long time ago, accepted that Kate didn't want to talk about it, but that didn't stop her from suggesting nice man for Kate to date, who she always ended up to declining. There was just no time for her to date, she kept telling Cynthia.

She shook herself out of her thoughts "Okay, have a good night Kate," Cynthia smiled, before stepping back down the hallway, "Night Jamie. See you tomorrow, Sweetie."

"Night!" Jamie called back from the living room, too engrossed in the cartoon, to give her nanny a proper goodbye.

Cynthia laughed, "Must be a real good cartoon."

"Seems so," Kate smiled back, before opening the door for Cynthia. "Good night and thank you."

"Sure Kate. See you tomorrow," Cynthia waved and left.

Kate walked back into the living room to check that Jamie was still occupied with her cartoon before quickly making her way into the bedroom to change out of her uniform into something more comfortable.

She hung her uniform behind her bedroom door and pulled a pair of sweat pants and a simple shirt from her closet. Her view fell onto her reflection in the mirror and she understood why Cynthia had been worried. She looked like hell. And she felt the overwhelming need to crawl into bed and cry, but she couldn't do that, because out there in the living room was her little girl and she needed to have dinner and some much overdue mommy time. Besides, Kate needed Jamie as well, today more than ever. So she pulled herself together and her hair up in a messy bun before walking back into the living room.

"Mommy?" Jamie looked at her mother. "Hungry."

Kate smiled and leant over the backrest of the couch, "How does Spaghetti sound?"

"Yay, Spagti!" Jamie exclaimed, making her mom chuckle. Apparently Spaghetti was still a bit difficult to pronounce.

"Okay, mommy will make Spaghetti with meatballs and some carrot sticks," she grabbed the remote control and turned off the TV, "and you can look at one of the new books we brought from the library."

Jamie nodded in agreement, already climbing off the couch and heading for her play-box, pulling out one of her new picture books and holding it up for her mom to see, "This." She stated.

Kate nodded, "Do you want to look at it in the kitchen and keep me company?"

Jamie eagerly made her way over to the kitchen with her mom, letting herself be swept up in her arms and carried into the kitchen to sit in her high chair.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Spaghetti making and looking at the picture book Jamie had picked, which showed African Wildlife, elephants, giraffes, apes, hippos, zebras and Jamie's favorites - the lions.

"Elephants big," Jamie said in awe, tracing the outline of the elephant displayed in the book next to all the other animals of the African wilderness.

Kate nodded, smiling, "They are the biggest animals not living in the ocean," she explained, "and they are mommy's favorites."

"Jamie likes lions," her daughter told her, turning the pages until she was at the one with the lions. "Simba," she pointed at a lion cub.

Kate chuckled, ever since her daughter had caught a glimpse of her Lion King DVD, she was head over heels with lions. Kate hadn't let her see the whole movie so far, only scenes she thought were appropriate for her, like Simba singing I just can't wait to be king and some others, carefully avoiding certain parts of the movie, not only for her daughter's sake. Jamie would sit in front of the TV and sing along, not always on cue, not always the right lyrics but always adorable.

"And who is that?" Kate asked, pointing at the lion king in that picture.

"Mufasa," her daughter exclaimed like one of the hyenas, grinning from ear to ear.

Kate put on her Lion King CD for dinner and cut the spaghetti so Jamie could manage them herself. And then she listened to her daughter telling her about her day, what she had been up to with Cynthia and what plans they had made for tomorrow. Her daughter was definitely a talker and Kate had no idea where she got it from, well maybe she did after all. She pushed that thought aside, putting away the dishes, before getting Jamie ready for bed.

They cuddled on the couch afterwards, Kate reading to her daughter until the girl had trouble keeping her eyes open.

"Come on, Buttercup, let's get you to bed," Kate mumbled, picking her daughter up, who slung her tiny arms around her mom's neck, cuddling closer. Kate breathed her in, closing her eyes to fight the tears and the knot in her throat, before carrying Jamie to her room. She put her in bed, pulling the blanket over her and kissing her daughter good night, before whispering, "I love you, baby."

"Love you mommy," her daughter mumbled before sleep pulled her under.

Kate watched her for a while, finger tips dancing through the light brown curls until she found the courage to pull away, silently closing the door behind her, careful to leave it open just enough so that the light from the hallway kept the room from going completely dark.

She stepped into the bathroom, shedding her clothes and stepping under the steaming stream of the shower. The warm water cocooning her was enough to make her finally break, the tears fell and she sobbed, glad the water would cover any sound that could alert her daughter.

She sank down against the tile wall, coming to rest on the ground, hugging her knees tightly to her, while the water beat down over her. What would she do if he really decided to try and take her little girl away from her? He had money, he was successful and a single dad with lots of free time to take care of two girls. What had she to offer in return but her endless love for her daughter? He was right when he accused her of working crazy hours and barely having time for Jamie. She couldn't deny it, but she had to work, they had to live and it didn't mean she wasn't a good mother. Everything she did, she did for Jamie. There was no one more important in her life than her. He couldn't take her away, Jamie was all she had left, her only family. She wouldn't survive without her.

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