A/N: And now, a brief diversion from the WIP I'm working on for the Castle Mini-Ficathon. Prompt is at the end; this takes place after Castle is found at the start of season 6.
Alexis Castle and Jenny Ryan sat on a bench at a playground, catching up, or in Alexis' case, still trying to process the last few weeks and feeling, for once in her life, completely at sea. Jenny was watching Sarah Grace run, jump, scream, and otherwise work out a little excess energy.
"You're telling me," Jenny said gently, "that he was gone all summer, found adrift in a dinghy, and can't remember a thing about it?"
"That's not the worst," Alexis sighed. "He can't remember a thing about - a lot of things."
"Alexis - don't tell me he - "
"No, no, he remembers me, just fine," Alexis hastened to reassure. "And Gram. And Mom, and Gina. He remembers me going to college. He remembers writing all the Derrick Storm books."
"What about Nikki Heat?"
"That's the big anomaly," said the younger woman. "He recognizes his own writing style and accepts that he's the author of the Nikki Heat books. In fact, he loves the character, says he can see how he might write more with her some day. But - he doesn't remember, or recognize, anyone or anything else related to the Twelfth Precinct."
"That's why you wanted to talk to me?" Jenny asked.
"Yeah, and to tell you to pass it on to Kevin, and Espo, and anyone else you think needs to hear it. Tell them it's not because of anything they did, or any trauma from Dad's time there - at least, the doctor's pretty sure it wasn't."
"Why me, though? Doesn't Kate - "
Jenny stopped as Alexis shook her head.
"No," she said, "she doesn't. She doesn't talk about it to anyone. I don't even know if she's gone back to her therapist. And from what you told me, it sounds like she won't even mention Dad at work."
Jenny looked appalled.
"You mean, he doesn't - doesn't remember her?" she whispered. "His own fiancee?"
Alexis looked straight at her, blue eyes swimming in tears.
"No. He doesn't."
"He doesn't," said Kate to Lanie. They were sitting in Kate's favorite Italian restaurant not far from the precinct, lingering over good wine after their dinner.
"How do you know?" asked her friend gently. "What's the doctor say?"
"Doctor says the memories might come back. She can't find evidence of physical trauma, and there are no other indications of psychological issues. It's not even as though he's lost everything from 2008 on - he has some of his memories intact. Alexis, Martha, the acting studio. Just - nothing to do with the Twelfth. Including me, you, Kevin, Javi...any of the cases we've worked."
"Bracken?" Lanie inquired. "That was in the papers."
Kate shook her head. The biggest arrest of her career - of her life - and the man who had been there by her side through the entire grisly process did not remember it, or her, at all.
"Castle stayed out of the spotlight," she said. "The news didn't carry any pictures of him associated with the case."
"Did you try showing him pictures of the two of you? Your engagement announcement?"
"Martha and Alexis did," Kate told her. "After the first couple of days in the hospital, when I started to realize where the blank spots in his memory were, I removed myself. I didn't want to cause him - well, hell, cause me - any more emotional trauma than necessary. I swear, Lanie, it's the hardest thing I've ever done."
"And that's saying a lot," Lanie said sadly. "So they took him to the Hamptons?"
"Alexis was hoping that he could get some time and distance away from the pressures he'd get in the city," said Kate. "That his memory might be jogged in a place that was still his home - just not the loft."
"I still think it was a mistake for you to move out, Kate. Just because you've been erased from his mind doesn't mean you should vacate the rest of his life."
"I want to give him time, and a choice," Kate replied. "If he wants me, he knows where to find me."
"You are such a stubborn fool of a woman." Lanie scowled at her. "He didn't give up on you, not for six years."
"I'm not giving up," her friend argued. "I just - can't stand him looking at me like I'm a stranger. Knowing every intimate thing about him, when he barely even knows my name."
"Kate. Take a page from his playbook. Get on his radar. Get in his face. Hell, how's he going to remember you if there's nothing in his life to jog his memory? Haunt the man, drop hints, take him places. And if all else fails - seduce him. Let him fall in love with you all over again."
Kate smiled, a bit tearfully.
"Castle him, right?"
"It's been two months, Kate," Lanie went on. "I think you've given him enough time."
Something caught her eye, over Kate's shoulder, and her eyes went wide.
"I swear to you," she said in a low voice, "I had nothing to do with this. I swear."
Puzzled, Kate followed Lanie's gaze, toward the bar.
She'd know that back - and that backside! anywhere. He was wearing a deep blue sweater, the one she knew had a v-neck in front. His hair had grown out a bit and he kept running a hand through it, rather absently, she thought. He seated himself at the bar and flagged the bartender for a drink.
"Lanie - "
"I swear, Kate. I'm devious, but I'm not that devious. It's a sign. Go on over and buy him a drink."
"Oh, Lanie, I don't - "
"Stop trying to figure out the universe, Kate Beckett," Lanie scolded. "Just go sit next to Richard Castle and have a drink and some conversation. And see what happens."
Kate looked back at the bar. Lanie stood up and gathered her bag and jacket. When Kate looked up at her, Lanie smiled and said, "See what happens."
She exited the restaurant, and Kate was left with her thoughts.
A few minutes later, she rose and walked slowly toward the bar, her mind racing. See what happens, she thought. Kind of Castle's modus operandi, right?
She was just sliding onto a stool, next to him but not too close, when he turned his head and looked her in the eye, smiling.
"Kate Beckett?" he said. "Richard Castle. I heard you like this place, thought I'd give it a try."
When she could manage a reply, she asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"
Damn right, she could buy him a drink. She was looking at him with an expression of hope, mingled with fear and sorrow. It was the same expression he'd seen on her face the last time she'd visited him at the hospital - only that time, fear and sorrow dominated.
He didn't know why she'd stayed away, why she'd removed everything she could find that might remind him of her from his loft. He'd returned there two days ago, and when he opened the piano bench to get some sheet music there'd been a copy of a Sinatra tune lying on top.
His mother had said, "Such a classic. I love that song." Then she'd caught his eye and added, "So does Katherine."
He'd sat on the piano bench with Martha beside him and asked her to tell him their story, his and Kate's. He'd heard bits and pieces while he stayed in the Hamptons; he'd been undecided as to how to proceed. He knew, though, that he had to start in the city, where they'd met, and that if he wanted to take a chance on rebuilding their relationship, he'd have to know more.
He'd scribbled down some notes about places he and Kate liked to go, things they liked doing together. He wasn't about to start haunting the precinct, though apparently he had many friends there, so he sketched out a plan to visit a few of their favorite haunts, hoping for a memory to arise.
This restaurant had been his second destination. And here she was. The universe was giving him a sign. He'd seen her when he walked in and had been watching the door to be sure she didn't leave without seeing him.
"You can get the next round," he replied, trying to sound casual, but his heart was pounding like he was on a first date. Well, that was kind of true. "Scotch, neat?"
Kate nodded. It was either a good guess, or something had nudged his memory. When she got her drink, she toasted Castle with it and they drank.
"You know, once upon a time, we had a case where a man had amnesia after experiencing a traumatic event - getting shot at," she said. "His ex-wife came to the precinct to identify him and give us some background. There was obviously some chemistry still there - they left together once the case was solved. And Ryan - one of the detectives - said, 'One has fifteen years of baggage. The other's on a first date.'"
Rick grinned.
"Sounds like us," he said. "Here's hoping for a happy ending. Maybe having half the baggage will make our trip go faster. I mean, if that's what you want..."
As he trailed off uncertainly, Kate's smile spread slowly across her face and she leaned in to whisper in his ear.
"You have no idea."
A/N: The Prompt Overlord (Lou) mused: "What if the stupid memory wipe in "Montreal" wasn't the last 2 months? What if it wiped all memory of a specific person aka Kate?" I broadened the scope a little.