Five Stages of Being In A Relationship With Richard Castle
I. Denial
Alexis knows. Wise beyond her years, it is still absurdly uncomfortable for her to confront the fact that her father actually has sex. She agrees to keep their secret and they spend their days in a tentative detente, as Beckett waits for the inevitable.
It comes roughly a week after the return from Europe and Beckett is followed out of the apartment by Alexis' low question.
"Are you going to hurt him?"
Yes, Beckett thinks, because it's what she does. Without intention, because hurting herself hurts him.
"No," She denies the truth, because perhaps that will make it more true. It's a lie, but it's only a little one.
At least she's going to try.
II. Anger
Beckett is angry. She is seething like a big seething thing, and Castle is equal parts confused and turned on.
He can't figure out why she is so furious. Usually it's no mystery; he didn't stay, he didn't listen, he opened his mouth.
But for all he can recall he behaved very well, did everything she asked.
He was a good boy! And he wasn't a good boy very often.
"Are you trying to get us caught?" She hisses, dragging him into the stairwell of the precinct. Her eyes glitter in the yellow-green light and Castle can only blink in response.
"But I was good!" It comes out resembling a squeak and he clears his throat and repeats himself with less hysteria. "But I was good!"
Don't get him wrong, when she presses her lips violently to his he is pleased but even more confused. The Beckett onion is becoming the Beckett shoelace tangle. Impossible to unravel and getting more difficult all the time.
"Normal, Castle." She says at last, her forehead pressed to his. "I told you to act normal."
Realization dawns, and his confusion melts into a toothy grin. Too good. He is being too good and she is giving him permission to be bad.
Challenge accepted.
III. Bargaining
Their relationship, lopsided as it often was, was always a game of give and take. He gave, she took. Only in the past few months has she begun to realize the imbalance and attempt to make up for it.
Now give and take means just that, and over time they barter little pieces of themselves.
She no longer turns inward when she becomes weary and worn, seeking comfort in his embrace. He no longer masks his concern with glib and often inane jokes, allowing her the dubious pleasure of witnessing his insecurities.
She holds his hand in the relative privacy of cabs.
He respects her need for emotional space.
With shame, he tells her about his failed second marriage, and how miserable it had made Alexis. He never wanted his daughter to feel like an afterthought and Gina did just that.
In turn she finally reveals the dissolution of her relationship with Demming; explains how she ended things. Once he swallows past the lump of regret in his throat, he wings his eyebrows to his hairline and comically blames his second wife again.
They build a patchwork of completeness between them, ever bargaining for more. The pits and edges of their history fit together, though sometimes only after a few tries.
They are making it work.
IV. Depression
Beckett hates book tours.
She hates that she hates book tours.
She hates the cool weight of her phone in her palm as she waits for him to call.
She hates that she spends long, lonely evenings alone in her apartment, wrapped around his pillow in a melancholy stupor.
She hate that most of all, hates that she's moping.
Somewhere along the way she has allowed him so much space in her heart and life that she no longer feels balanced in his absence. His presence is necessary, like breathing, and the realization chokes her and sets her flight instinct into overdrive.
Except there is no one to flee. Instead, she wants to escape her loneliness. A first for her, and she doesn't even think before she dials.
The phone rings twice before he answers with a gruff but heartfelt "I miss you."
She swallows around the lump in her throat and tells him she misses him too.
V. Acceptance
Alexis knows. Martha knows. Lanie knows. Ryan and Esposito are hinting.
In her oblique way, Gates has told them to be discreet without telling them anything. Beckett suspects a well-placed phone call to one of the many people Castle knows, but she doesn't ask. Some things are better left unknown. In any case it's a blessing of sorts, so long as they are able to behave in a professional manner.
Of course she says this fully aware that Castle's take on "professional" rarely lines up with the rest of the free world.
It is the secret that isn't and Beckett knows it is now a matter of form rather than function.
And so at the Old Haunt, she slides beside him in the booth and his arm drapes across the back of the booth. When the gang arrives she doesn't slip silently away, putting discreet but noticeable distance between them, but sips from his drink and lets her fingers rest on his thigh.
Unspoken acceptance (and not a small amount of relief) sweeps through the group.
When she soundly beats Esposito at a round of pool Castle claps from his barstool and hoots "that's my girl!" before she slides to stand between his knees.
His hands rest on her hips and her grin is a perfect twin to his.
She is his, and he hers. It has only taken *mumblemumble* years and perhaps she is late to the party, but she has finally accepted it.