VICTIMS OF THE NIGHT
Late 1998, San Francisco
The bass is pounding, so loud Rick can't hear the music anymore, just the thump-thump-thump from the speakers lining the walls. He's not entirely sure why he agreed to come out, only that Meredith had said they needed to take advantage of the San Francisco nightlife, and since his mother was with them she could watch Alexis for a few hours. He'd prefer to stay in the hotel, especially after a long day of press and book signings, but Meredith had put on that slinky dress and pouted and he couldn't say no.
She's out on the dance floor now, swinging and swaying while he gets them each another drink, and he can't help but look around while he waits for the bartender. He is a people watcher by nature, a habit that has only increased with each book he's published. Bars and coffee shops are his favorite places, but this nightclub has some interesting clientele that's giving him ideas.
"What can I get you?" the bartender finally asks him, and Rick barely gets out his order of 2 martinis when he's slammed into the counter from behind.
He spins around, ready to give the offender an earful about watching where they're going, but when he catches a glimpse of the lanky, pretty young woman who looks too young to be there, he stops himself. She seems to be on her way to being drunk, the crowd surrounding them not helping her balance, and when his eyes involuntarily flick over her body his breath catches in his throat. She's wearing a dress that would be a modest length on most, but it barely hits mid-thigh on her, and her legs go on for miles. She grabs his arm for balance, and he can't help but grab her shoulders to help steady her.
"So-sorry," she slurs, using the leverage to slide onto the single empty stool beside them.
Rick's hand hovers by her back until she settles, prepared to catch her if she slips off. "No problem," he practically yells over the music. He watches as the bartender makes his drinks along with several others, but when his eyes flicker to the mirror behind the bar he notices that she's is staring at him. He quickly brings his hand back to his side and rests his elbows on the counter.
By the time the bartender brings his drinks, Rick's shifted his gaze to the dance floor to try and locate Meredith. He finally notices her making her way towards him, and he takes a step forward to meet her, drink in hand.
"Thanks, Kitten," she says loudly, loud enough to be heard over the music, but also so loud that the girl who was staring at Rick snickers.
Rick rolls his eyes at both the nickname and the girl's reaction and downs the drink. He lets Meredith drag him onto the dance floor, and they dance for several songs before she lifts herself up so her mouth is level to his ear.
"I have to use the ladies' room," she says directly in his ear. "Get us another drink?"
Rick nods at Meredith's back even though it's clearly a rhetorical question; he heads back to the bar, but decides while he's waiting not to get another for himself. He's feeling just a little buzzed, and while he knows he could have a few more before he truly feels it, Meredith's been itching for a night out and he'll keep buying her drinks if it means she'll have a good time. But he wants to be coherent enough to keep her from doing anything stupid.
He's lost in his thoughts when he feels a body against his side; they're packed in like sardines, but this one is turned towards him, and he shivers when he feels hot breath against his ear.
"Buy you a drink?"
Rick catches the brown hair out of the corner of his eye, and starts a little when he recognizes the young woman from the bar. He's not sure if she had any more drinks in the last little while, but she seems a little steadier on her feet, although maybe there are so many people around them that all the bodies are holding her upright. "I'm taken, sorry," he says when he leans closer so he doesn't have to yell as loud.
The young woman jerks her head back towards the dance floor. "The redhead, right?"
He glances back and freezes. Meredith is flat-out grinding against a tall, beefy man, has her hands threaded through his hair as his lips are plastered to her neck and his hands are cupping her ass. Rick's not naïve enough to think she won't dance with whomever is around her whether or not he's there too, but he's been with her long enough to know that the look of bliss on her face is not just from dancing.
She's totally getting off on this.
Rick doesn't even think twice; he turns away from the brunette at the bar, and his wife on the dance floor, and heads towards the door. Behind him he hears a slight commotion, and when he feels the familiar hand on his forearm, he whirls around. "No, Meredith," he snaps, jerking his arm back. "I'm leaving."
Meredith pouts, the same pout that usually can get Rick to do what she wants. "Come on, Kitten, let's have another drink. This is so much fun!"
Rick just gapes at her. "You're kidding, right?" And he leaves.
Luck, however, does not seem to be on his side. Whereas a few hours ago there were several cabs lining the curb, there are none in sight right now, and when it starts to rain he makes up his mind. He heads back inside but stays close to the door, intending to glance outside every so often to keep an eye out on the cab and rain situation.
He can't help but glance around the dance floor, and his blood boils when he sees Meredith towards the back, with the same guy she'd been with earlier. God, the woman has no shame. After what feels like hours, he feels a soft hand on his arm, and he's only a little surprised to see the same brunette from earlier. He leans in, but the music is so loud he has to practically yell directly in her ear. "Should I be worried? You keep showing up."
She gives him a small smile and curls her fingers around his forearm. "Come on, let me buy you a drink."
When she leads him towards the door, he stops her. "Hold up, I don't know you and you don't know me. You shouldn't just leave with a stranger." He isn't sure what prompts him to resist; she may have been tipsy earlier, but she certainly seems to be sober now. "What's your name?"
"Kate." She pulls back enough to smirk at him. "I know who you are, Rick Castle. Let's get out of here."
Rick can only stare and let her – Kate – drag him out of the club. The light rain has let up, and when she slips her hand through his half a block later he stops them. "Kate, wait. I don't want to give you the wrong impression." Kate stares at him, and he notices her eyes, the streetlight they're under reflecting the gold flecks in the hazel. They're wide and innocent, and she's young, but there's a depth in them that makes her seem older.
"I'm not a cheater," he blurts out. "Obviously Meredith fucked up, but we have a kid, we need to try. I'm sorry, I just – I need to go back to my hotel. I need to think."
Kate squeezes his hand lightly before letting it go. "I understand." They both stare in surprise when a cab turns the corner, and she throws her arm up without a second thought. When it pulls up to the curb, she quirks her eyebrow at him in question, and he opens the door and gestures for her to get in.
"You take this one. I'll get the next."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." Rick hesitates for a moment, then leans forward to kiss her on the cheek. He's surprised when she turns her head at the last second so their lips meet, but she keeps it short and chaste, barely a brush of lips against his. His fingers curl around the door handle when they part. "Goodbye, Kate."
"Goodbye, Rick, and good luck."
Rick thinks about her frequently over the next ten years, the mysterious woman named Kate with the captivating eyes who unknowingly set the ball rolling on his divorce with Meredith (although it was the affair with the director that was the final straw, of course). He wonders where she is, if she stayed in San Francisco, what she was doing there in the first place.
It isn't until she's sitting across from him in an NYPD interrogation room that he realizes what a small world it really is. And in that moment, before he even comments on her eyes, he resolves not to let her out of his life again.
-FIN-