Credit for the prompt goes to roleplayinspiration. It wasn't a direct prompt, it was in a list, but it's a great blog! And pun credit goes to the internet :) AKA Google Images.


She throws the plastic bag containing the boxes of Chinese food onto her kitchen bench, shrugging of her jacket soon after.

Her apartment is cold; the cool autumn night settling over the space like a sheet.

Kate looks around the place with a grimace. There's an old box of takeout resting near the fridge and her coffee table is a mess of papers and junk mail.

Truth be told, she can't remember the last time she was here, thinks that it was 3 days ago, when she had been woken with a phone call signalling a body drop.

The precinct break room and hard top of her desk had replaced the comforts of her bed, while the locker rooms had shifted in as her showering spot.

She had refused to leave; wanting, *needing more than anything, to catch the killer who had stolen a single mother's life. Her hard work had paid off. They had caught the killer– the ex-boyfriend, nonetheless –earlier that day, and she was on her last page of paperwork, when Montgomery decided to send her home.

Her protests had been weak, her body thoroughly exhausted from running on the precinct's sludgy coffee and 1 hour naps.

She had picked dinner up from the Chinese restaurant a few blocks away from her apartment; not the healthiest of choices, but definitely more than what she had been eating in the past few days.

Kate's stomach grumbled at the food in front of her. She kicked off her shoes, snagging the plastic bag and making her way to the couch. She dodged past the clothes and shoes that were scattered across the ground; making a promise that she would tidy up her apartment with the compulsory days off Montgomery had granted her.

She sunk into her couch, grabbing the first box of food in the bag. She was ready to dig into her chicken fried rice, when her phone sounded from the inside of her jacket pocket.

Kate let out a sigh, placing her food onto her coffee table with a scowl and pushing off the couch.

She fishes the rectangular device out of her pocket, eyebrows furrowing when an unknown number shows across the screen.

She unlocks her phone, opening up he new message that she had received.


What did the Pacific Ocean say to the Atlantic?

The confusion passes over her almost immediately; the random message making no sense to her.

It's 11pm, who is this? She texts back.

Kate waits less than a minute before a reply comes through.

It's Rick, we meet today at the coffee shop?

Her annoyance at being interrupted settles down, pity replacing it instead.

Sorry, I guess your friend gave you the wrong number.

The reply is a little slower, but still quick.

Oh, sorry for bothering you.

Her heart clenches at the simple message though she has no idea why. This Rick guy sounds pretty deflated.

Wait, tell me the joke.

Her logical side of her brain screams at her; full wondering why she doesn't just continue on with her life.

The joke?

The Ocean one.

Oh okay.
What did the Pacific Ocean say to the Atlantic?

What? Kate texts. She walks back to the couch, resuming the position she had previously taken up.

Nothing, he just waved ;)

The corny joke garners a small smile from her lips. It's exactly what she needed after searching for a murderer.

Okay. She replies simply.

Do you sea what I did there?

'Another pun,' Kate thought with a shake of her head.

No

I'm shore you did...

Wow, where did you find these? On the internet? Her response is slightly rude but she can't help but act unimpressed. His puns are getting to her.

Yeah, I thought that one was a bit fishy.

Kate rolled her eyes, getting up from the couch and placing her half-eaten box of rice in the fridge, as well as the other box that she hadn't opened.

I'm Hungary.

The random message comes through just as she's entering her bathroom, a plan to take a nice, hot bath on her mind.

Kate turns on both of the faucets, and checks the message. She smiles but doesn't reply, figures that Rick will probably find his own way to food.

Should I Czech the fridge?

Before she can reply, another text comes through.

I'm Russian to the kitchen now.

Dammit, there's no Turkey.

Wait, there is but...ew it's covered in Greece!

She almost drops the phone into the bathtub, a laugh escaping her. She shakes her head in amusement, turning off the hot faucet, and letting the cold one run a bit longer.

Kate strips down, sliding into the bathtub with precision. She grabs the phone off the small table. There's an unread message waiting for her.

There's Norway I'm eating that.

Maybe you should eat some Chile.

The message reply doesn't come instantly like all the others. The 5 minutes passing leaves Kate in confused anxiousness, and allows her to focus back on the bath.

She cringes at her eagerness that follows when the message does come through.

I found some! But it's in this weird Cuban shape ;)

Her laugh is a lot more audible now.

It's probably sour. Maybe you should Sweden it.

I just...I just found my pun soul mate. And...and... I don't even know your name.

Kate bites her lip, the text stealing some of her breath.

A pun soul mate?

She shrugs. It's not like she would be giving out her social security number, and this Rick guy did seem genuine.

She taps out a response, pressing send and placing the device back onto the small table.

Kate. My name's Kate.