Coffee After Closing
A Castle/Beckett Fanfic
All rights belong to their respective owners.
Kate loved the bullpen at this time of night.
The printers weren't spitting out papers and the phones were blessedly silent. There weren't a dozen conversations going on at once. There were no pieces to fit together and no abnormalities to puzzle out. No deadlines. No distractions.
Just a sizable stack of paperwork awaiting her signature and input. And for some reason, she just couldn't focus enough to get started.
Maybe it was the comforting smell of hours old coffee or the hush of a workplace abandoned for the evening. Was it the muffled squeak of the janitor's cart wheeling down the hall?
Or maybe it was the way it felt to enter with no questions; a Murder Bo free of marker notes and crime scene photos.
A case closed. A crime solved.
Glancing at her desk and the folder full of sheets, she sighed. She was being generous with the timetable of a few hours; the necessary forms, the bare minimum alone would take a good 45.
She could already feel her fingers cramping. Her eyes would feel gritty and dry staring at the screen. She'd get knots in her neck from bending over the keyboard. This was the side of her work she would happily delegate...if she was allowed.
She raked a suddenly weary hand through her hair. Enough reflecting. It was time put the case to rest.
With heels clicking, she approaches what Castle has dubbed her "Thoughtful Spot." He'd even left a Pooh Bear in her drawer one morning in an attempt to solidify the label...if only with her squad.
It made sense. This was where she did majority of her analyzing and solving, bringing a mass of facts into a cohesive case. It had been the scene of many Aha! moments over the years.
She hadn't been able to muster her usual quip or downplay how the innocent gesture affected her. Instead, a smile had tugged at her lips as she'd fingered the beat before closing it inside a desk drawer. And she knew he'd seen it when his own quickly followed.
Sure, he flirted and could charm the skin of a snake but there was a sweet, almost innocent side to Richard Castle she'd caught glimpses of.
A side she'd be interested in seeing more often.
Lost in the secret admission, she pulls out her chair. The NYPD screensaver spins on the monitor but she doesn't see it...
Or anything on her desk besides the sleeved to go cup from her favourite cafe- NF Van Lat scribbled in Sharpie on the lid.
She sniffs appreciatively at the steam. It's still hot and she doesn't need to survey the bullpen to know its deliverer is long gone.
A yellow sticky is slanted over the side, the script undeniably his.
For Burning the Midnight Oil
He knew she'd need this and she smiles before taking a sip.
Closed case coffee has never tasted so good.