Just a little something that came to me. I needed something easier than "Leaving New York"

Disclaimer : I don't own them.


Something changed. Since the shooting. Since after the summer. Since their talk on the swings. Something changed for the better. For him.

He noticed little things. But what he noticed the most was the radio. The first year he followed her, there was only the sound of police radio in the car. Then the real radio was on sometimes, especially for long trips up state. PBS was her radio of choice. PBS and police radio. That's what he had to endure for three years.

Since she came back, she put normal radio on, a classic rock station or some hip local station. It was when she turned the volume up for a Rihanna song that he decided to say something about it.

"Rihanna?"

"What?"

"We're listening to the radio."

They hit a red light. She looked at him like he was stupid.

"Yes, we are, Castle."

"What happened to PBS?"

She shrugged. "I like the songs now." The light is green, she pressed the accelerator. "They make more and more sense."

His heart was doing somersaults in his chest. He tried to remain composed, tried hard not to dance in his seat.

"Yeah?" It was not his most clever come back. It was the most prudent. The highest too. When did he become a 6 years-old girl ?

She gave him a look. This new mysterious look.

With that coy smile with her lips pinches. She seemed to give him that smile more often.

Another new thing, another change. Since the shooting. Since their talk on the swings.

"Yeah."

For the rest of the trip back to the precinct, he bit the inside of his cheeks. So he wouldn't say he liked it, no, loved it. He wouldn't ask how much more sense the songs were making. He would wait.

Because when he did, good things happened. Like the radio.