Something a little different than what I normally write. Prompt from Pinterest to be posted at the end.

She came in while he was working on someone else, someone who (as usual) wanted one of the normal gifts he gave: prosperity. Their tattoo was something elegant and small, but he was still almost distracted enough by his new customer to almost lose focus and screw up his current's tattoo.

"Hey," he called out to this woman with a strange aura, "I'm just finishing up here. I'll be with you in a second."

"Thanks," she replied flatly. Huh.

He tried not to let this beautiful creature currently perusing his artwork on the wall distract him from giving this man the quality he deserved, both material and not. With a final swipe of his paper towel to remove the excess ink, he sat his tools down and slapped his hands on his thighs in finality.

"All right, man, all finished up. The mirror is over there and the mythical should begin taking effect once the skin has healed up. Couple days at most." His current customer nodded his thanks and walked over to the mirror to check out his new tattoo.

While the man was currently distracted, Richard Castle made his way to this woman looking through books of his tattoos. "Hi, I'm Rick, how can I help you?"

The first time he really got to look at her face, he almost audibly gasped. His face definitely became slack with awe. She was a goddess. Her shoulder-length chocolate brown hair fell around her face in waves that reminded him of woods in the middle of October. Her prominent cheek bones and sharp jaw gave her a kind of exotic beauty that he didn't see often, definitely not in women he's ever seen in real life. And her eyes; her eyes were what would haunt his dreams for months to come. They were such a shade of green, maybe that same woods but in the dead of summer after a rain storm. Flecks of brown dotted her irises and he felt the pain that he knew she tried so very hard to hide. Her creamy skin was flawless and begged to be loved. Her lips hadn't smiled in too long, but he knew they held the potential to light up a room with their joy.

"Hello?" She waved her hand and shifted uncomfortably. He must have been staring.

Shaking his head slightly and clearing his throat, his head caught up with the situation. "I'm so sorry. What was it you said?"

The woman's face, void of any kind of happiness, looked back down at the open page on the counter. "I want this," she pointed to a small and simple scale, one that was used way back when and was now more of a symbol than anything that was relevant.

"Okay," Rick said. "Where would you like it? I can do it really quickly after that guy pays," he nodded to the man who was still flexing in the mirror.

Nodding her head, the woman replied, "Good. I want it right here." She reached around with her right hand and pointed to a spot on her back that was just a little to the left of her spine, not quite reaching her shoulder blade.

"How big?" Rick questioned. This could be a bit difficult. The nearby shoulder blade could make the artwork look wonky if she wanted it too big.

Instead of giving him a measurement, she took a deep breath and swallowed. "Whatever will fit and look good. Not too big, not too small."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Got it. And what would you like your gift to be?"

With this question, she looked at him, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows meeting in an adorable crinkle, frown on full displace. "My gift? I just want a tattoo, man, no funny business."

Eyes widening in horror, Rick held his hands in front of him, taking a step away from her. "No! That's not what I meant. Usually people who come in here don't really come for the tattoo, they come for my. . .power?"

His bewildering customer didn't flinch. "Which is?" she asked, unbelieving.

How did Rick explain what he really did. "I, uhm. . .I kind of have the ability to. . . okay, when I give a person a tattoo, I'm also able to give them a gift, a power." When her eyebrows rose and she looked about ready to leave, he tried to clarify. "Okay, for example, this guy got a tattoo of his kids' initials and birthdays on his shoulder, but his wish was to be prosperous. He just opened a new business in Brooklyn and he wanted prosperity, for his business to succeed and to be able to provide for his family. Because of me, he'll be able to do that. A woman I six months ago got a pirate ship on the back of her arm, she wanted a successful marriage. She's engaged to some guy she met that same day."

Rick stopped to let her process this information. She huffed and rolled her eyes. "That sounds cool and all, but I just want my tattoo. Nothing else. I don't need anything else." With that, she turned around and sat in one of the waiting chairs while the previous customer made his way to the counter to pay.

Once he was gone, Rick called the woman to his chair. "Okay. . ."

"Kate," she replied without any emotion, removing her purse from her shoulder and striding over to his chair. She sat down facing away from him and peeled her shirt off without any prompting. His breath caught in his chest. She was fit, muscles tight and strong, her simple white bra the only thing in the way of perfect, silky skin. His canvas.

Pinning her shirt between her chin and chest, she reached around and unclasped her bra, coming back around to cover her front with her shirt once she was bared for him. Rick had to inhale and study the ceiling for a moment to regain his focus.

"Okay, so I'm going to freehand with a pen and then I'll give you a mirror to check it out and make sure you like it," he explained. He wasn't sure she was listening until she finally nodded.

Rick sat down and went to work, able to mostly concentrate on drawing the small scale where she wanted it, large enough to tell what it was, small enough to fit without warping it. "There," he said after a couple of minutes. "Check it out and tell me what you think."

She took the hand mirror he offered her and went to the larger mirror on the opposite wall. After only a brief glance, Kate walked back to him and gave him the mirror back. "Good," was her only comment.

"And you're sure I can't interest you in any special gift? Wisdom? Health? Anything?" he tried again.

There was a long pause in which he could have sworn he saw a storm rage in her eyes. He could feel it all around her. She was radiating discontent in waves. He didn't know what was wrong with her, but he knew she was extremely unhappy about something.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she rested her elbows on her knees. "Just the tattoo."

Rick got his supplies ready and turned to his beautiful canvass.

Mysterious Kate, he thought to himself, allowing the words to flow to his fingertips, may you find the peace you so require to be happy. Peace.

And with that, he began. It didn't take him long; it was a series of lines that connected to make a geometrical scale, but it was (hopefully) going to bring her some reprieve from the hurricane that was her soul.

When he finished bandaging the tattoo, she redressed, thanked him, paid and left.

XXXXXXXXXX

Three months later, that same woman who crossed his mind in one way or another every single day came back into his tattoo shop. She seemed much lighter, her eyes not quite so haunted, even a small smile gracing her pink lips.

Without a word, she walked up to him, kissed him on the cheek, and whispered a broken, "Thank you," as tears welled up in her eyes. Without another word, she turned and left, left a tingling on his cheek that he touched with his fingers to imprint it in his skin. Something to remember her by.

Throughout the next couple weeks, she came back occasionally, said she was working up the nerve to talk about what he had done for her.

When she finally did tell him about her murdered mother and how his tattoo had kept her on this earth, he hugged her as they let silent tears stain each other's shirts.

The next time she came to see him, this time to add to her tattoo Vincit Omnia Veritas,he asked her on a date.

Prompt: You are a tattoo artist that has the ability to give people powers from the tattoos you give.