sbpd_papabear | Date Night (off-timeline Milliverse, locked to Karen)

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karen vick

Date Night (off-timeline Milliverse, locked to Karen)

Henry pulls up in his truck ten minutes early - across the street. He still can't bring himself to park in her driveway even when her husband's car isn't there... somehow it just seems to make everything feel wrong. Just like walking into her house and feeling the tight squeeze of her life that he doesn't feel like he has the right to be part of.

Instead, he steps out of the truck in his pressed suit and leans against the door - watching the light in her bedroom window as he gives her a little extra time to get ready, her unmistakeable shadow dancing across the curtains. It's the sort of moment he loves, when he can just exist and love her without her even knowing it because when she looks him in the eyes it's written clear as day across the lines in his face.

After maybe five minutes of listening to the quite Santa Barbra evening, he sends a text:

Your chariot and driver await, m'lady.

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She laughs as she reads the text. A glance out the window and she can see him, looking handsome as ever. She thinks he may have washed the truck, even. A true chariot, indeed.

She finishes fastening her shoe and applies just a tiny spritz of perfume. She flicks off the light and texts back one handed as she says good night to Iris and her nanny.

I'll be down in just a second, m'lord.

It is his baby, after all...

Seeing the flutter of curtains, he grins wide and offers her a wave before she disappears again. Sliding back into the truck, he waits a moment after the light switches off to to start the engine again, singing along under his breath to a little bit of Phil Collins on the radio. Hey, it's catchy.

"M'lord..." he mutters to himself with an amused smile, they just don't make women like her any more. As much as he never thought he'd fall head over heels for a woman after Madeline, he's been so very happy to be wrong about it. Because he is absolutely crazy for her, in every possible way.

When he sees the door open, the familiar flutter in his gut warms him as much as the cut of her dress and the heels he's never seen in the office. She's as close to perfect as any human has any right to be.

She slips across the street, a little breeze catching her skirt and making her glad for the wrap she pulled around her shoulders on the way out. She can't help but laugh when she hears him singing.

"Hey mister, I like that song on your radio. Wanna give me a ride in your big shiny truck?"

"I don't know... didn't your mother ever teach you about riding in cars with boys?" He grins and leans out the window, catching the edges of her wrap in his fingers to steal a kiss before leaning across the seat to pop open the passenger door for her.

"Come on, get in babe - lets blow this joint."

Climbing in with strappy heels is a little tougher than she thought, but she manages to hoist herself up and in, and slides across the seat to steal another kiss, a good one this time, her hand on his cheek.

"I'm with you. Though, you know, Henry, you are allowed to pull in, you know?" She wants him to feel comfortable about their relationship no matter where they are. Well, maybe not at SBPD HQ, but their homes are fair, she's sure. "Anyway, where are we heading?"

She's a pro and knows it, and it's worth the struggle getting in to have her pressed against his side as she gets comfortable in the cab. Refusing to smudge her flawless makeup, he echos the kiss on his lips against her ear before considering his response. He knows what he's got planned, but there was something to be said about a little bit of a surprise.

It's not as if his brand of surprise involves things like surprise weekends in Hawaii or something - he's pretty simple and the man only wears a suit for a few reasons outside of work.

"I like parking over here," he defends quietly, flashing her another smile; "gives me the chance to figure out what I'm going to say when you get in the truck."

He throws the truck into gear and takes it toward his destination without answering her second question with little hope that she wouldn't notice.

"Oh, as if you're ever at a loss of words with me."

It's one of those things that makes this feel so right, the ease between them, the way they can talk about anything together, and also the way that they can comfortably enjoy silence together, not feeling compelled to fill the space between them with conversation for its own sake.

"I think you just like watching me walk." Which is perfectly okay, especially since she likes watching the way he moves too.

She notices that he's not naming their destination, and that's okay, too.

Sometimes, he really is - but he'd never let on. It's not about being awkward for him, though he can be from time to time still, it's more about being utterly in awe that he just can't think of anything that doesn't sound like a teenager stumbling out an 'I love you'. It's a curse.

"Well... I mean... you do make it look really good." And she knows how to play him like a two-bit fiddle, a little hint of lace and extra skin and he's sold anything. If it was cut right he'd love her in a burlap sack.

The drive is a slow one, city streets still busy with the evening traffic before he admits; "We've got an eight-thirty reservation."

"Ohh, reservations," she doesn't try to keep a straight face, though she does manage the straight line, "so we're not going to Dan's Lobster Shack down on the boardwalk?"

Henry's the one who cracks a smile as he responds; "I thought I'd save that for our anniversary."

He's joking, though he has considered dragging her down to Crab Shack Willy's one Friday to meet the guys from his poker game. Which, of course, would probably be a horrible idea given that most of them already know her from her professional position. Which just puts him right back to their own little island of secrecy - which he's all right with, for the most part.

Anniversary.

"I like how that sounds. Gives me time to get a stylish lobster bib. Those plastic ones clash with all my best dresses."

She knows that places with reservations aren't every day Henry, and knowing that he's going to a special effort for her makes her a little bubbly inside.

"You're the best, you know that, don't you?"

Henry's smile stretches wider and he shakes his head again, briefly looking back at her before turning his attention back to the dark road.

"I don't know that I'd say that, but I'm definitely the most blessed." Blessed with family, blessed with his career, and more than all blessed with love.

"Maybe you should wait until after I take you home to declare how amazing I am."

"Mmm, that's a whole different sort of amazing though." She smiles in a way that she's realizing is just for him, even as his focus is on the road. It warms her right down to her toes.

"Not that I don't love both. And you."

The implication makes him flush a little hot under the collar and Henry lets out an almost nervous laugh, once more looking back to her just to catch the warm tinged smile before looking back out at the city rolling past.

"Same here, babe... you know that, though."

Why else would he be wearing a suit well after clocking out? Only for someone he really loves.

"I, uh... I hope you like Italian."

"Oh, I love it!" And she hasn't had good Italian lately, and there are only a couple of places in town that are Italian and take reservations and would have Henry in a suit, and they're both pretty terrific.

"But you knew that, you saw me inhale that manicotti that night, when we were working on the Strauman case, and ordered in?"

That gives her a good segue to make small talk as they drive, nothing that will take his attention too far off the road. It's lovely just to be with him, riding in his truck, feeling like a girlfriend.

He laughs again, another slight flush coloring his ears. He knows, of course, that she loves Italian - he knows that he's seen her scarf down even the most faux-talian stuff they bring in the station. And he also knows that Raphael's has the best selection of warm red wine in the county.

"I saw a lot of things," he murmurs, stealing another glance. "I might have been distracted that night."

"See, this is me, not taking the bait. I'm not going to ask what you were distracted by, because as a professional I know that you were distracted by the case," she says crisply, in her matter of fact voice.

But as they pull to a red light, she touches his arm and laughs. "I can't do that convincingly anymore, can I?"

Professional, right. They've got that one covered in spades.

His smile doesn't fade as they pull into the parking lot, the place isn't too busy and he's honestly glad for it. The less chance of running into someone they'd have to explain it to, the better. And thankfully, it's the sort of place Shawn and Gus couldn't afford and would refuse to wear a tie to get into.

"You can," he murmurs, leaning close to brush a kiss against her ear; "to anyone but me."

"I'll remember that," she laughs as she slides out of the truck, crossing around to take his hand.

"Thank you for this. I love this place. This is a treat."

It's comfortable to twine their fingers, walking in close step toward the door - little things he took for granted for a long time.

Giving her hand a tight squeeze, he gave her an almost bashful look; "Well, I thought you deserved a bit of a treat after the last few weeks."

The past few weeks have been quite busy, and they haven't had the time together she might've liked. But that wasn't down to him, by any means.

"We both do," she smiles gently, moving closer to his side. "It's quite a treat just to be with you, special dinner or hot dogs in front of a ballgame on TV."

He leans in and brushes a kiss against her ear, inhaling the hint of perfume in her hair that he's come to almost thrive off of the last few months.

"I love being with you too," he murmurs as they enter the restaurant. "And I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep that under wraps."

It's kind of killing her too, planning how to be together without being seen, staying in, or going to out of the way locations. She'd give a lot to just walk down the beach promenade, holding his hand.

"I'm trying to, you know, expedite the whole marriage part of it." At least once she's officially divorcing, if not divorced fully, that barrier to their relationship being known -- at least to some people -- will fall. "I have another meeting with my lawyer tomorrow afternoon, actually." Extricating herself without letting hr bum husband use their child as leverage is tricky business but she's determined.

He lets the thought linger with him as they're shown to a table with a freshly lit candle. He hadn't intended to bring it up, but at the same time he knows they can't let reality be the gorilla in the room either - it is what it is. It's the reason he scans the dining room even after he sits down to ensure their privacy before reaching across the table to trace over the back of her hand.

"I know you're doing the best that you can to make this as painless as possible for everyone." His strong fingers fold easily into her hand and he lets out a soft sigh; "We'll get there. I know we will. Together."

She squeezes his hand tightly, all she can do, though she'd really like to lean right over the table and kiss him. "Your patience means everything to me. I can promise you that there are great rewards for being such a good sport about all this." A wiggle of her eyebrows punctuates her point.

"I'm bad. We haven't even ordered drinks and I'm making innuendo."

Henry lowers his head a moment, chuckling under his breath. "Well, I can appreciate it."

When he looks back up at her, his amused smile still lingers and he squeezes her hand even tighter. "I think you'll find that I'm a very, very patient man. You don't spend twenty years alone without learning a few tricks."

"Why have you?" It's something she's wondered. She knows Henry's dated. He had that fling with Susan, brief though it was. But it seems like there hasn't been anything lasting, in two decades, and she can't figure it out.

"You're very handsome, not broke, you don't have any of the sorts of habits that ruin relationships that I've found, though I suppose you could be secretly heading to casinos on nights when I'm not with you. Or you're maybe a closet kazoo player," she smiles, not wanting him to feel like she's making an accusation. "You're a wonderful lover. You're pretty much a catch. But you've remained uncaught."

He's pretty sure the only thing in his life that runs women off - ran women off, he hopes - is Shawn, but that's not really appropriate to say, so he simply squeezes her hand again.

"Nothing like that. I guess I was just waiting for the right one to come along."

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Date Night (off-timeline Milliverse, locked to Karen)

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