His brow furrowed as he frowned at the open file before him and stared at it unseeingly. {Why did it rile me so much to have Rezac taunt me about being pussy-whipped? I know it's not true. Why do I listen to anything that blonde bimbo has to say? And as far as going out, hell, I don't want to go out much. I'd rather be home with Kacie. She's always asking me why I don't want to go to Chandler's or somewhere with my friends from the precinct. I just never want to. I wouldn't have gone last night, if she hadn't suggested it.} "I'd be feeling a whole lot better today if I would've just gone home after work."
"Talking to yourself, Son?"
Peter looked up to see his foster father grinning at him.
"Hi, Paul. " He gestured at the workload on his desk. "I'm a little swamped."
"Swamped or not, a man's gotta eat. How about lunch? My treat."
At the mention of food, Peter turned green. "Oh, I don't know, Paul. I'm not very hungry."
"Won't take 'no' for an answer," Paul told him. "Come on, let's go."
Peter had never been able to disobey that particular tone from that particular voice, so he turned off his computer monitor and rose to his feet, following after Paul sullenly.
Paul noticed the way Peter toyed with his silverware and fidgeted in his chair. "Rough night last night?" he asked.
Peter glanced up at him and smiled wryly. "That obvious, is it?"
Paul laughed. "Oh, yeah. You gotta remember, Son, I knew you when. You've always acted like this when you were feeling guilty about something."
Peter snorted. "Can't remember too many times I came home feeling worse than this."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Aw...I let some precinct gossip rile me and went out last night and got smashed. I took it all out on Kacie," Peter admitted miserably.
Paul nodded and said nothing, simply taking another sip of coffee.
Peter sighed deeply. "So...today I'm hung over and Kacie isn't speaking to me, or at least I don't think she is. She left for work this morning without waking me up to say good-bye," he confessed glumly. "I was late for work, too."
Paul raised an eyebrow at him. "I can see why you're upset. Awfully inconsiderate of her to let you oversleep and make you late."
Their food was delivered at that moment and they ate quietly for a while, Peter listlessly picking at his food.
"Eat something, Son. You need more than coffee and aspirin in your stomach."
Peter looked up at him, surprised, "How did you...?"
Paul grinned. "Come on, Peter, I've had my share of morning-afters."
"I don't remember any."
"That's because by the time you came along, I had grown up." He paused and thoughtfully took a sip of coffee. "You know, Kacie surprises me."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I would have thought that she was smart enough to know a young fella like you needs some space once in a while. She can't expect you to just sit around and do nothing but spend time with her," Paul commented mildly.
Peter bristled. "She's not like that."
"Well, you said she's mad at you for going out last night, didn't you? What were you supposed to do, sit on your thumbs and wait for her to get home?"
"She's the one who told me to go out."
"But she came and tracked you down there."
"Yeah, but I wanted her to. I hadn't seen her all day long."
Paul went on, "She probably came just to check up on you, right? Those clingy types are like that. Never give you a moment's peace. Gotta know where you are and what you're doing and who you're doing it with all the time." He grunted. "No wonder you were upset. She was way out of line."
"Hold it right there!" Peter snapped, eyes blazing fiercely. "Don't you talk about my wife like that. Where do you get off saying Kace is the 'clingy type'? She's nothing like that at all! She's never once..." His voice trailed off as Paul grinned at him. "You just played me, didn't you?"
"Like a fiddle." Paul nodded. "No wonder we tell suspects that anything they say can and will be used against them." He laughed out loud at the look on Peter's face.
"So there you have it, Paul. I made a complete fool out of myself and I don't know what to do about it," Peter admitted unhappily. "There's no reason why Kacie should ever want to speak to me again."
"Would a simple, 'Honey, I was wrong and I'm sorry' be so tough for you to say?"
"It doesn't seem like enough. I was an ass, Paul. A complete and total ass."
"Flowers have always worked well. Roses especially." Paul winked. "Never can tell what kind of reaction you'll get when you give your lady roses."
A slow smile started to form on Peter's face. "I seem to remember seeing roses around the house a lot."
Paul grinned. "Annie never could resist them. Didn't matter how mad she was at me."
"So you think they'll work with Kacie, too?"
"Never know until you try." Paul chuckled. "Let's just say that once I caught on to the roses, I made sure there was always a steady supply at the neighborhood flower shop."
Peter felt better after having eaten, and even more so after talking with Paul. The afternoon went far more quickly than the morning had, and he worked steadily while keeping an eye on the clock. He was sitting wondering where to go to get a dozen roses after 6 o'clock when he glanced up and saw his foster father approaching.
The sober look on Paul's face caused Peter's welcoming smile to fade as he felt a sudden sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach. He rose to his feet tensely. "What's wrong? Is it Mom?"
"Mom is fine, Son," Paul reassured him. "She just sent me to get your father, and I figured you could ride along, too, if your captain will let you go in my custody. Kacie's at our place and..."
"Kacie? Is something wrong with her?"
"Well, she stopped by to see Annie, and when she was ready to leave she wasn't feeling well, so Annie bunked her up in your old room."
Simms had caught some of the action from her office windows and stepped out to see what was going on.
"Captain, my wife is sick," Peter told her hoarsely. "I know you said I had to..."
"Go," she said quietly. "I'll get the time out of you later."
When they got to Paul's car, Peter noticed there was no one else in it. "I thought you said you came after my father?"
"He sent me on to you while he went to the Ancient's for some more herbs," Paul explained. "We'll pick him up on the way."
"MORE herbs? Pop has enough at his place to open his own health food store. What's wrong with Kace? Why haven't you taken her to the hospital if she's that sick?"
"Calm down, Peter. She's just got a bad headache, and she insists that your father's teas are the only things that will do any good. You know how she feels about taking any kind of pills."
Peter groaned in frustration at the delay. "What was she doing at your place?"
"Same as you. Feeling miserable and needing someone to talk to. Annie said she was just about to leave the house when she fainted in the hall and..."
"Fainted?" Peter nearly shouted. "You never said anything about fainting. Paul!"
"Relax, Peter. It's all under control. Annie's with her and we're on the way. She'll be fine."
Paul's car had barely rolled to a stop in the garage before Peter was out the door and in the house. Annie was in the kitchen heating some water for the anticipated tea, and the words "in your old room" were not even out of her mouth before he flew upstairs.
He threw open the door and his eyes took in at a glance the huddled figure shivering on the bed. "Kacie?" Guilt and recrimination ate at him as he rushed over to her and went down on his knees next to her. He tenderly brushed back the damp hair from her face with a shaking hand, and he could see the lines of pain in her pinched and drawn face. "Honey," he whispered softly. "Are you all right?"
"My head hurts," she complained fretfully, her fingers wriggling and reaching for his hand and gripping tightly as a sudden spasm of pain hit. She bit her lip until it nearly bled, and moaned.
"Pop's here." He continued to whisper. "He's making some tea for you right now."
"I wish he'd hurry," she sniffled, and then continued in a wobbly voice, "I wasn't sure you'd come."
He pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. "Oh, Sweetheart, how could you think that? I didn't know you were sick. Why didn't you call me?"
"I didn't want to bother you at work," she choked. "I-I was afraid you'd think I was checking up on you."
"I know you don't check up on me. I don't know why I said that last night. I'm sorry I hurt you."
She squeezed his hand convulsively and whimpered in pain. "Where's your father?"
On cue, Caine came into the room carrying a tray with the teapot, cup, and saucer. Peter moved out of his way, but refused to give up his hold on Kacie's hand. After stirring in several different pinches of crushed leaves and sniffing the liquid, Caine quietly told Peter, "Help her to sit up and support her so that she may drink."
Peter slid onto the bed next to Kacie and pulled her up to lean her back against his chest and shoulder, cradling her head gently. She took the cup from Caine's hands and sipped at the liquid, forcing herself to swallow.
Peter's nose rebelled at the odor. "Pop, does that stuff taste as awful as it smells?" he asked apprehensively.
"It will take away the pain and help her to rest," Caine assured him. "The taste and the odor are not important."
Kacie drained the last of the tea and then turned her head to settle into the niche between Peter's shoulder and collarbone. He felt the tension start to drain away from her muscles as she began to relax against him. He stroked her hair and gently kissed the top of her head. "Any better?" he murmured.
"It-it's starting to go way," she answered weakly.
"Oh, Honey, I am so sorry about last night," he crooned into her ear. "I had no right to talk to you the way I did. I was way out of line, and I apologize." He kissed her temple. "God, I hated waking up this morning without you in my arms."
She nestled more deeply into his embrace. "I hated trying to sleep last night without feeling your arms around me."
"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. I don't know why I treated you the way I did or said the things to you I did. I love you so much, and I was such an ass."
"Yeah, you were," she agreed drowsily. Her voice trailed off and she suddenly went limp in his arms.
"Pop?" Peter stared up at his father in alarm.
"She is asleep," Caine announced.
Peter moved to get up, but Kacie clutched at him and moaned in protest. He realized that he didn't want to leave her, anyway. He slid them both downward in the bed and then pulled her close to snuggle against him. With a sigh, he nestled his face in her hair and closed his eyes, too.
Caine covered them both with a blanket and left. Silently, he went back downstairs, where Paul and Annie sat in the kitchen talking quietly.
"How's the patient?" asked Paul.
"Asleep. Both of them."
Annie breathed a sigh of relief. "I was really worried about Kacie. She was so upset when she got here, and that headache she had scared the hell out of me."
"She is sleeping without pain. She will be fine. You will have two overnight guests," Caine informed them with an indulgent smile. "Neither rested well last night."
"That bed isn't very big," Annie worried out loud. "Maybe we should --"
"Babe," Paul interrupted. "It's just fine the way it is. Believe me: it's just the right size."