Daniel pressed his face into his pillow. The bed next to him was empty, just as he'd feared, and he curled up into himself, pulling the covers up over his head to block out the sunlight that leaked in around the edges of the curtains. He lay there for a few minutes, willing himself to go back to sleep, to slip back into the oblivion of unconsciousness. He was about to get up and trudge down to the kitchen when he heard the quiet pat-pat of bare feet on the hardwood floor. He pulled the covers down. Kate stood at the edge of the bed clad in only Daniel's t-shirt, looking quizzically at him.
"That's my shirt," he blurted.
Kate blushed. "Yeah, I—I couldn't find mine. Sorry."
"No, no," Daniel said quickly. "I—it's fine."
Kate crawled back under the covers. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You look worried."
"I thought—" Daniel shook his head. "Never mind. It's fine."
Kate brushed her fingers along his face. "Remember what we said? No secrets."
Daniel closed his eyes and held her hand against his face. "I woke up, and you weren't here, and I thought—" He felt his face redden. "I thought it was all just some sadistic way of torturing myself."
Kate sighed and kissed Daniel's lips. "Seemed pretty real to me," she mumbled. He could feel the warmth of her body through the t-shirt she wore, and he pulled her closer until she was pressed against him.
"Don't you have crimes to solve?" Daniel asked.
"Got the day off, remember?" Kate replied, laying a hand on his chest. "We closed the case last night, had a late dinner..."
"No, I remember," Daniel said, chuckling. "Except—as I remember, you closed the case, and then I invited you for dinner, and afterward you assaulted me."
"I didn't assault you," Kate defended. "You had spaghetti in your hair and I was trying to pick it out. You're the one who started the fight."
"I did not have spaghetti in my hair," Daniel said indignantly. "You used that as an excuse to provoke me. There was never any evidence of pasta having been anywhere near my hair."
"I wasn't provoking you," Kate retorted. "I was trying to clean you up, and you distracted me. I bet if you go downstairs right now, there will be spaghetti on the floor next to your chair."
"Only because you knocked my plate off the table," Daniel said. "I remember that, too. Don't think you can get anything past me."
Kate narrowed her eyes at him, and then squinted at his hair. "Hold still," she said, reaching up near his ear and moving closer.
"What?" he asked, hoping it wasn't a spider in his hair.
"You've got lint in your hair right he—"
Daniel cut her off, covering his mouth with hers. "Nice try," he mumbled against her lips.
Kate laughed and held up a small ball of lint. "I wasn't lying," she said. "You did have lint in your hair."
"Mm, right. In the exact spot where the mythical spaghetti is rumored to have appeared," Daniel teased. "Admit it: you just wanted to kiss me."
Kate smirked. "I didn't just want to kiss you," she said, pressing her lips to his bare chest.
"Hey... Doc?" Max called, opening Daniel's door. Daniel yanked the covers up to his chin. "Are you coming down f—" Max's hand flew to his eyes. "Never mind. I'll, uh—ahem." He shut the door and Kate dissolved into a fit of giggles as Max's footsteps clunked down the stairs.
Daniel groaned. "I am never going to hear the end of this," he said, staring at the ceiling.
"It could have been worse," Kate said. "It could have been my dad."
Daniel made a face.
Kate stretched up and whispered in his ear, "My dad wouldn't have left."
"O-kay! That's enough of that," Daniel said. He got up and searched the floor for his boxers and his—no, Kate was wearing his shirt. He tugged his underwear on and dug a pair of sweats and another shirt out of his drawer.
"No, come back," Kate whined.
Daniel pulled on the sweats and shirt as he walked back to the bed. He leaned across the covers, supporting himself on his hands, and kissed Kate quickly. "Routine," he reminded her. "Gotta feed the crazy man."
Kate groaned and got out of bed. Daniel tossed her a pair of drawstring sweats and went downstairs.