[ fic: 1/1 ]
Title: A New Day
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Mike/Kate - minor Buffer/Kate
Rating: PG
Drink One.
She’s angry. At Mike, at Commander White, at the Navy in general. She loves her job more than anything but right at that moment she can’t deal with doing anything other than sitting in her apartment and drinking. It’s not something she often does, drinking away pain, but she feels as though it’s her only option.
She needs to do something before she goes insane.
Drink Two.
She calls Nav. She’s not entirely sure why - maybe she’s just craving female company? In need of a friend to talk to.
Nav doesn’t answer, her voicemail picks up immediately. She calls Buffer instead.
Drink Three.
She’s supposed to be meeting Buffer at the bar in five minutes, but she’s not entirely sure she can find the strength to stand up and leave her house. She’s been strong for so long and she’s not sure she can do it anymore.
Laughter is the next thing that comes out of her mouth as she thinks about leaving - because it’s the only way she knows how to react that isn’t crying. And Kate McGregor doesn’t cry over men. Or she didn't - before Mike.
Drink Four.
She feels like a teenager, drinking tequila and orange juice from a bottle in the back of a cab. But she hasn’t felt like since - well since the last time Mike broke her heart - and she really just wants to drink as much as she can before she gets to the bar.
She’s not even sure why she’s going but apparently it’s healthy to discuss your feelings with friends.
Maybe that’s her problem - all her friends have left the Hammersley and the only person she feels close to is Mike and that just makes it hurt more.
Drink Five.
Buffer - Pete? She's not sure what to call him now - has a drink waiting for her when she gets there, and immediately he realises she’s not exactly sober and she sees that worried expression flash across his eyes.
‘So I heard the CO...Mike got promoted…’ he mentions it casually but she knows it’s a question.
‘Yeah,’ is all she responds with, lifting her drink and taking a sip.
Drink Six.
She realises now that Buffer was probably the wrong person to call - because her feelings for him aren’t entirely professional either, and she’s a few drinks down and he’s looking more and more attractive. At least things with Buffer would be simple.
But she’s not even sure if she’s in a relationship or not. She assumes not - but when she closes her eyes all she sees is Mike and the way he was looking at her in his cabin - the way he had fought so hard not to send her on the mission that was clearly hers to go on.
She looks up and meets Buffer’s eyes, and she knows there’s tears in hers.
‘I’m in love with him, Buff…’
And she’s so close to breaking down she just wants to leave the bar and run as far away as she possibly can.
Buffer reaches across the table and lightly places his hand on hers.
‘I know.’
Drink Seven.
It was his idea to leave the bar, and they’ve found a nice quiet spot along the water front. He even bought her beer. She doesn’t know why she’s still drinking, clearly she’s drunk enough already - but it still hurts.
Maybe one more drink will make it stop.
Buffer’s not even talking anymore, they’re just sitting in silence. And she likes it that way - that’s what he’s good for. He understands her and she doesn’t need to speak. That's why he'll always be her Buffer.
Drink Eight.
She feels the urge to confront Mike. To scream at him and tell him she hates him. But she knows that would be a bad idea - because at 0900 the next morning they’ll be back on the Hammersley in close quarters and the last thing she needs is to be hungover and feeling guilty about shouting at Mike.
‘Have you told him?’
Buffer’s question is almost an hour delayed. She looks over at him and feels the tears pricking the back of her eyes again.
‘What if I’m not good enough for him…what if I’m just some second choice? Him and Commander White have some thing and I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is. But it’s a thing. And you and me - we have a thing. Lots of people have things. So what if Mike and I are just a thing? What if he’s really in love with Knocker?’ she almost spits the last word out and Buffer reaches across, taking the beer from her.
‘Kate McGregor - you would never be anyone’s second choice. Not mine, and definitely not his.’
She looks over and meets his eyes. She’s glad she called him.
‘Thanks…’
Drink Nine.
She’s back in her house and back onto the red wine. But she doesn’t want to go to bed. Her bed reminds her of Mike, and every time she closes her eyes all she sees is him, looking at her - and while that had been a comfort to her recently it now felt more like someone stabbing her repeatedly in the stomach.
So instead she’s sitting on her couch, the lights off in her house, drinking red wine that he had bought for her. And she’s thinking about him anyway - because, if she’s honest with herself, that’s all she thinks about these days. Mike and the CO.
Because they’re two separate people in her mind.
Or they had been until he’d crossed that line, until he’d brought up his feelings for her on board the Hammersley. And now that line was harder for her to draw, because he’d made the boundaries so unclear.
Drink Ten.
It’s times like this she wishes she had a job she could just call in sick to - because she knows tomorrow morning is going to suck. Especially since it’s only five hours away. Although having an excuse not to go to work the next day almost seems tempting. She’s sure she could convince someone she had a migraine and needed a few days on leave.
Yeah. That would work.
Drink Eleven.
She calls his voicemail. Because she assumes he won’t answer his phone at 3AM, people sleep at 3AM.
But he answers instantly.
‘Kate?’
She hangs up. He tries to call back and she rejects the call.
Drink Twelve.
She asleep on the couch with the bottle of red wine in one hand when her doorbell rings. If she’d been more sober it might have surprised her, but everything seems normal after a bottle and a half of wine, three shots of tequila and four beers.
Somehow she manages to get to the door. She opens it without looking. She knows who it is.
‘You’re drunk…’ he comments.
She looks up and meets his eyes, his concern instantly irritates her. ‘And you’re a genius.’
She turns around and walks back to her couch. The couch is safe, it doesn’t remind her of Mike. Well other than the time he came around for dinner. And the time he was there on her birthday. And now.
He follows her quietly into the living room and she knows he’s watching as she plonks back onto the couch and kicks her remaining shoe off.
She’s not even sure where the other shoe went.
‘I’m sorry, Kate,’ he almost whispers it and she knows he realises this is his fault.
She opens her mouth to respond but she doesn’t have the words. He understands and sits down next to her. For a moment they sit there in silence together, staring at the blank television screen in front of them - and then he reaches across with one arm and pulls her towards him, kissing her lightly on the forehead.
They stay like that until the sun rises.
A new day.
Fandom: Sea Patrol
Pairing: Mike/Kate - minor Buffer/Kate
Rating: PG
Drink One.
She’s angry. At Mike, at Commander White, at the Navy in general. She loves her job more than anything but right at that moment she can’t deal with doing anything other than sitting in her apartment and drinking. It’s not something she often does, drinking away pain, but she feels as though it’s her only option.
She needs to do something before she goes insane.
Drink Two.
She calls Nav. She’s not entirely sure why - maybe she’s just craving female company? In need of a friend to talk to.
Nav doesn’t answer, her voicemail picks up immediately. She calls Buffer instead.
Drink Three.
She’s supposed to be meeting Buffer at the bar in five minutes, but she’s not entirely sure she can find the strength to stand up and leave her house. She’s been strong for so long and she’s not sure she can do it anymore.
Laughter is the next thing that comes out of her mouth as she thinks about leaving - because it’s the only way she knows how to react that isn’t crying. And Kate McGregor doesn’t cry over men. Or she didn't - before Mike.
Drink Four.
She feels like a teenager, drinking tequila and orange juice from a bottle in the back of a cab. But she hasn’t felt like since - well since the last time Mike broke her heart - and she really just wants to drink as much as she can before she gets to the bar.
She’s not even sure why she’s going but apparently it’s healthy to discuss your feelings with friends.
Maybe that’s her problem - all her friends have left the Hammersley and the only person she feels close to is Mike and that just makes it hurt more.
Drink Five.
Buffer - Pete? She's not sure what to call him now - has a drink waiting for her when she gets there, and immediately he realises she’s not exactly sober and she sees that worried expression flash across his eyes.
‘So I heard the CO...Mike got promoted…’ he mentions it casually but she knows it’s a question.
‘Yeah,’ is all she responds with, lifting her drink and taking a sip.
Drink Six.
She realises now that Buffer was probably the wrong person to call - because her feelings for him aren’t entirely professional either, and she’s a few drinks down and he’s looking more and more attractive. At least things with Buffer would be simple.
But she’s not even sure if she’s in a relationship or not. She assumes not - but when she closes her eyes all she sees is Mike and the way he was looking at her in his cabin - the way he had fought so hard not to send her on the mission that was clearly hers to go on.
She looks up and meets Buffer’s eyes, and she knows there’s tears in hers.
‘I’m in love with him, Buff…’
And she’s so close to breaking down she just wants to leave the bar and run as far away as she possibly can.
Buffer reaches across the table and lightly places his hand on hers.
‘I know.’
Drink Seven.
It was his idea to leave the bar, and they’ve found a nice quiet spot along the water front. He even bought her beer. She doesn’t know why she’s still drinking, clearly she’s drunk enough already - but it still hurts.
Maybe one more drink will make it stop.
Buffer’s not even talking anymore, they’re just sitting in silence. And she likes it that way - that’s what he’s good for. He understands her and she doesn’t need to speak. That's why he'll always be her Buffer.
Drink Eight.
She feels the urge to confront Mike. To scream at him and tell him she hates him. But she knows that would be a bad idea - because at 0900 the next morning they’ll be back on the Hammersley in close quarters and the last thing she needs is to be hungover and feeling guilty about shouting at Mike.
‘Have you told him?’
Buffer’s question is almost an hour delayed. She looks over at him and feels the tears pricking the back of her eyes again.
‘What if I’m not good enough for him…what if I’m just some second choice? Him and Commander White have some thing and I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is. But it’s a thing. And you and me - we have a thing. Lots of people have things. So what if Mike and I are just a thing? What if he’s really in love with Knocker?’ she almost spits the last word out and Buffer reaches across, taking the beer from her.
‘Kate McGregor - you would never be anyone’s second choice. Not mine, and definitely not his.’
She looks over and meets his eyes. She’s glad she called him.
‘Thanks…’
Drink Nine.
She’s back in her house and back onto the red wine. But she doesn’t want to go to bed. Her bed reminds her of Mike, and every time she closes her eyes all she sees is him, looking at her - and while that had been a comfort to her recently it now felt more like someone stabbing her repeatedly in the stomach.
So instead she’s sitting on her couch, the lights off in her house, drinking red wine that he had bought for her. And she’s thinking about him anyway - because, if she’s honest with herself, that’s all she thinks about these days. Mike and the CO.
Because they’re two separate people in her mind.
Or they had been until he’d crossed that line, until he’d brought up his feelings for her on board the Hammersley. And now that line was harder for her to draw, because he’d made the boundaries so unclear.
Drink Ten.
It’s times like this she wishes she had a job she could just call in sick to - because she knows tomorrow morning is going to suck. Especially since it’s only five hours away. Although having an excuse not to go to work the next day almost seems tempting. She’s sure she could convince someone she had a migraine and needed a few days on leave.
Yeah. That would work.
Drink Eleven.
She calls his voicemail. Because she assumes he won’t answer his phone at 3AM, people sleep at 3AM.
But he answers instantly.
‘Kate?’
She hangs up. He tries to call back and she rejects the call.
Drink Twelve.
She asleep on the couch with the bottle of red wine in one hand when her doorbell rings. If she’d been more sober it might have surprised her, but everything seems normal after a bottle and a half of wine, three shots of tequila and four beers.
Somehow she manages to get to the door. She opens it without looking. She knows who it is.
‘You’re drunk…’ he comments.
She looks up and meets his eyes, his concern instantly irritates her. ‘And you’re a genius.’
She turns around and walks back to her couch. The couch is safe, it doesn’t remind her of Mike. Well other than the time he came around for dinner. And the time he was there on her birthday. And now.
He follows her quietly into the living room and she knows he’s watching as she plonks back onto the couch and kicks her remaining shoe off.
She’s not even sure where the other shoe went.
‘I’m sorry, Kate,’ he almost whispers it and she knows he realises this is his fault.
She opens her mouth to respond but she doesn’t have the words. He understands and sits down next to her. For a moment they sit there in silence together, staring at the blank television screen in front of them - and then he reaches across with one arm and pulls her towards him, kissing her lightly on the forehead.
They stay like that until the sun rises.
A new day.