Kit Harington One Shots

Pull Me Down (feat. Zoe Saldana)

Word Count: 3401

Summary: It’s 1990 and Kit is apart of the New York police department. After a stint as an undercover, he was transferred to homicide. First year on the job and his department is hit with a string of murders. With a serial killer on the loose, he finds himself meeting a girl who he believes fits the killer’s profile. When he starts checking on her in secret, he wasn’t expecting to like her.

Waiting until her gaze fully adjusted to the sunlight pouring through the slits of her blinds, Rachel glanced over at the clock on her bedside table.

11:15 a.m.

She wasn’t sure how she’d slept that late into the morning, she was typically an early riser. But today she felt exhausted, from her shift the night before at the diner. It didn’t help that she’d come home with a man for the first time in over a year. Any other day if she’d awoken this late she would’ve nearly broken her neck, scrambling to make herself decent before heading off to the diner for work. But this morning she was lucky, she didn’t have to go in until the night shift.

Rolling onto her back she let her body stretch out a far as it would go, her body arching as she let out a deep breath before relaxing back against the mattress. The sun had managed to warm her skin, along with her entire side of the bed but as she reached over she could feel the ice cold sheets in striking contrast to her heated skin.

She wasn’t surprised to find herself alone when she awoke. From the moment they met, nearly a month ago, something told her Kit wasn’t the sticking around type. The fact he didn’t feel the need to making her grateful, she had her share of resistant men. Hell, she was just lucky she actually got him home with her in the first place. 

Getting up she attempted to make the bed, stopping to pick up her discarded clothes from the night before heading into the bathroom. Dropping them into the hamper she wet her toothbrush before beginning to brush her teeth. 

With a quick glance in the mirror she attempted to tame her hair and stopped to spit before splashing her face and patting it dry.

Dressing in a pair of shorts, she  picked up the light blue button up peeking from under the foot of the bed. Slipping it on she buttoned it up, the mixture of whiskey and smoke relaxing her as she started down the hall.

It wasn’t until she made it to the end of it that she heard the soft playing of her television, her pace slowing before she stopped in the doorway. 

Although the television was playing, Kit’s attention wasn’t on it. Instead his gaze was on the open book in front of him, his back to the television screen. It was playing on the local news channel.

There was a brown paper bag on the table in front of him, the two cups of coffee on the table pulling her forward. He heard her soft footsteps but didn’t glance into her direction.

He’d covered her table in files and pictures, the morning paper discarded on the floor except for one page. He was seated stiffly in the chair, his hands resting against the table. Anyone who would’ve walked in as she just had, would’ve assumed he’d been there all night. His drunken state from the night before wouldn’t have even been suspected by the attentiveness to his work.

Crossing the room, she stopped to grab a cigarette from the pack on the counter before lighting it and taking a drag. She stepped over the open case box on the floor, a faint memory of seeing it in the back of his truck the night before passing as she crossed the living room before stopping behind him.

"Morning" she smiled letting her weight press against the back of his chair as she looked over his shoulder at the papers in his hands.

When he often came into the diner he had his book with him, his fingers flipping through the pages as he ate. He kept all his notes on the case in it. Occasionally he’d stop to add some notes, but primarily it was spent reviewing the ones he’d done. Whenever she came around to refill his cup, he’d give her a courteous nod before directing his attention back to his work. He always ordered the same thing: coffee and a slice of pie to help him finish his cigarettes.