Richard sighed and leaned against the fridge. "How very perspicacious of you, mother," he said. "How did you figure it out?"

"Oh!" Martha scoffed. "Darling, you're an open book to me. It's clear that this is about a woman, and I know it's not Gina because you don't have any book deadlines this month. Therefore: Kate Beckett."

That, and when she'd got home after having dinner with some friends Alexis had told her that Richard had returned from the precinct earlier than usual and had spent the evening staring at his phone.

Richard gave another, deeper sigh. "You're good at this detective business," he said. "Maybe I should start shadowing you around instead."

He was aiming for a cheerful, airy tone, but as much as Martha loved her son she knew he'd always been a lousy actor.
"Did Beckett try to ban you from her investigations again?" she asked.

"No," he replied, glumly. There was more sighing. "It's just..."

"What?" Martha insisted.

"She had to leave early because she had a date," Richard replied. "With this annoying guy she's been seeing for a while," he added, staring intently at his feet. "He's a complete prat."

Martha knew better than to argue with that. "So she's seeing other men," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "It's not surprising, considering someone else isn't making any move."

"What are you trying to imply, mother?" Richard said. "You know that me and Beckett have a purely professional relationship."

"Yes," Martha replied. "That might be the problem."

Now her son was definitely pouting.

"Oh, don't make that face," Martha said. "It's hardly the end of the world."

"It is for me," he replied. "Hence the 'drinking myself to death' part. Which might have not exactly gone to plan, but I'll keep working on it."

Martha scoffed and got to her feet. "You should go to sleep instead," she said. "Or you'll be dead on your feet tomorrow. You're still going to do your... research tomorrow too, right?"

Richard grimaced. "Yes, I suppose so," he said after a while. "I guess it wouldn't be nice of me to abandon her in the middle of a case."

Martha smiled. That was her boy. Totally full of himself, but his heart was in the right place even if his head never was. She leaned across the table and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.

"By the way," he said just as she turned to leave. "I think this is the first time in thirty years that you've ever sent me to bed."

She stopped to think about it and then laughed. "I think you're right," she said. "Well, there's a first time for anything."

Maybe sooner or later he'd finally get a first date with Detective Beckett. She'd been waiting for months.

"Aren't you going to tell me to clean up after myself too?" Richard added, gesturing to the mess in the kitchen. Martha thought about it. The air was thick with the smell of fruit and some of the juice was congealing in a sticky puddle on the counter.

"I probably should," she said. "But do as you wish. Just make sure to get some sleep."

He smiled. "Good night, mother."

"Good night, Richard."