Title: Stalks of Last Year's Fruit
Genre: Het
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Don/Kim
Spoilers: up to and including 1.07 Counterfeit Reality
Word count: 1200
Prompt: numb3rs100 Oct 2010 Rewind: Alcohol Crutch Fight Honesty
Disclaimer: Own nothing, not being paid.

A/N: Of course the challenge pairing would be Don/Robin, which is my main pairing, and what do I go and do? Write Don/Kim instead. Title from a Penelope Swales song. Thank you to krazykitkat for the beta.

Summary: The evolution and end of a relationship.

Alcohol

Kim was starting to wonder whether Don wanted to break up with her. For a week he'd been hitting the beer more than normal, and he'd also been a bit more surly in general, both at work and home. Then there were the looks he gave her, filled with hopeless longing.

She wondered until she came home from a movie that he'd insisted she treat herself with. The second that she walked through the door he pulled her in for a kiss that seemed to last forever.

"Hi," Don breathed out when they finally parted.

"Hi yourself."

Kim looked around, catching the scent of vanilla, to find candles all around their apartment. Scented candles, and her favourite at that. Don produced a glass of red wine from somewhere and she sipped at it as she let him lead her towards the dining table. There were more candles and flowers, cheerful reds, golds and pinks. The colours of sunset.

They ate dinner, a meal that Don had cooked, and finished with cookies and cream ice cream. There had been a nervous energy coming from Don right throughout the meal, but once they finished and he cleared away the plates, he became deadly calm. In contrast, Kim's nerves had been increasing more and more as the time passed. There was only one thing that this could be and she knew what she was going to answer...but still, she was nervous.

Don turned her chair slightly away from the table and pulled a box out of his pocket. He knelt down in front of her and smiled. It was the smile that had been the first thing to make her stomach flutter, the one that said a billion things without words.

"Kim, I love you." He paused, opening the box. "Marry me?"

Crutch

It would have worked a lot better if one of them was more awake than the other. Maybe then Kim wouldn't have hit the edge of the doorway.

"Ow." Her arm was stinging, but she didn't have the energy to try to rub away the pain. And removing her arm from around Don would probably result in both of them falling over, seeing as they were effectively acting as crutches for each other. Too many days with almost no sleep had left them both ridiculously wiped out, so much so that they'd ended up calling a taxi rather than risking driving home from the office. The driver had to wake them up when he'd pulled up outside their apartment building, the annoyance in his voice indicating that it had taken some effort to do.

"You okay?" Don murmured, after lurching to a stop just inside their apartment.

"Yeah."

She reached behind and pulled the door shut, hearing the lock engage. By mutual but unspoken agreement they headed to their bedroom, neither making the effort to go around the bed to their side once they got there. Instead they both collapsed on the end of the bed. Kim was the first to attempt the arduous journey of crawling up to her pillow, knowing it was worth the gigantic-seeming amount of effort required.

"Don," she sleepily called after she'd made it and snuggled into the softness. When he didn't move, she uncurled slightly and nudged his shoulder with her foot. "Don."

He slowly climbed up to join her, collapsing face first when he reached the pillow. She closed her eyes.

When she woke briefly some hours later it was to find that they'd both moved in their sleep and Don was spooned up against her back, his arm loosely around her waist.

Fight

Kim wasn't even sure what the fight was about anymore. It had evolved beyond whatever had sparked it until they were both hurling unrelated accusations and venom, months of built up little annoyances aired within a matter of minutes.

Don's cell rang and he picked it up off the table.

"You're not answering it," Kim told him, annoyed that he was even thinking about it.

"Mom's been trying to call me," Don said shortly, heading to their bedroom as he did exactly what she'd asked him not to.

She seethed for a while, sure that he was deliberately taking longer on the phone than necessary just to avoid her. Then she heard the sounds of things banging in their room, doors and drawers being opened and shut. Rushing to the doorway her heart almost stopped. Don was packing a suitcase. The fight hadn't been that bad, it wasn't worth moving out over, yet it seemed that was what he was doing.

"Mom's sick," Don said, almost mechanically, as he put a pair of socks in the bag. "She uh-" His voice broke and he collapsed onto the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands for a moment before brushing away tears. "She has cancer."

Kim knelt in front of him, relief that he wasn't moving out warring with worry, and grabbed his hands. "Oh, Don. I'm so sorry."

Don pushed her away, standing back up and packing again. "I've booked a flight for early tomorrow morning. You'll have to keep me up-to-date on how the Moran case is going."

It took a few seconds for Kim to comprehend what he was saying. He'd only booked a flight for himself. He didn't want her to come with him, his fiancée.

That was how much she meant to him.

Honesty

The ring was getting easier and easier for Kim to take off and put on her bedside table after she'd arrived home. She was still wearing it outside the apartment, she didn't want to risk anything getting back to Don before she'd really made her decision and told him, but at home she got the chance to free herself from the lie.

There was almost nothing left of Don in 'their' home. A few larger things that hadn't been moved back to L.A. and some framed photos were all that were left to show that they'd ever been together...other than for the ring. Looking at the photos had become painful. They'd been happy. Sure, they'd had their fights and dramas, but, overall, they'd been happy. And she could see it in the smile on her face as she sat on Don's shoulders. In the smile on his.

She didn't know whether Don had ever really been ready to get engaged, to commit to her. Sure, he'd seemed it, but it never even seemed to enter his head that she'd want to go to L.A. with him when he'd found out that his mom was sick. How could he really want to marry her when he didn't want her support, didn't want her, during one of the hardest points of his life? Sure, when he'd decided to move back home he'd asked her to come with him, but it was too late by then. The seeds of doubt had already been sown and it had started to feel like she didn't really know him anymore. He'd never asked her to come with him on any of the weekends he'd flown back home; maybe she could have thought there was hope if he had.

Starting the letter was easy.

Dear Don,

-FIN-