Summary: Castle's always known that Beckett holds a certain respect for his work, but when he discovers her true opinion he finds quite a surprise.
Status: Sequel to "Fix"; takes place after "Little Girl Lost" (1-09).
Rating: A harder T. Not as M as last time.
It was a rather slow afternoon at Precinct 12. Castle sat in his spot beside Beckett's desk, his face blank and slightly haggard from the past few days of backwards hours. His eyes were focused, or out-of-focus, as he stared at his partner's empty chair.
After their meeting in the hallway, it seemed their sudden relationship ended just as soon as it started. A week had passed rather comfortably, with a slight downturn to Beckett's sarcasm and acidic humor. They were close, and then that little toddler had been kidnapped. Will Sorenson, an ex of the detective's returning from Boston, called her in to be on the task force. Just to see her again, mostlikely.
Rick had caught them together in the kitchen of the crime scene. Sucking face.
But it didn't last long. Sorenson got back to other things, and Kate bounced him for, surprisingly, another date. The writer, being crushed, had picked up his heart and returned to his corner. He missed the Beckett from that one night, those few minutes. The devilish one.
"Maybe I'm more like Nikki Heat than you thought," she'd said as she left the office for the mystery date.
After that, there had been no mention of the fellow she'd gone out with with. It seemed, perhaps, that things had not worked out. Castle felt himself grow more and more hopeful as the days went by.
Another officer broke the novelist's stare with a windmill of arms. It was Esposito.
The young Hispanic man grinned at Rick. "You look like hell, Castle. Wanna take a break with me and Ryan?" He glanced at the empty desk, and continued, "Beckett's not here to chew your face off. Let's go."
Willing and happy to pry himself out of the chair, the writer tagged along with the two guys for a cup of coffee at the diner a ways down the block. It was nice, Castle thought, to be in the presence of other men for a period of time. Being around one woman for long periods of time is unhealthy. Even if you're falling for her.
The diner, an old rubber-and-chrome place called the Lick'n Spoon, was cozy enough. The restaurant was fairly cleared out as it was an off-time, late in the afternoon but not quite right for dinner. The three ordered coffee and sat at a corner booth, laughing and discussing sports and women.
Ryan had a copy of Castle's latest novel, the one with the provocative cover art. The novelist smirked as he eyed the cover, remembering Beckett's reaction to his impression. He'd realized, the cover art being released only to subscribers to his site, that Kate considered herself a 'fan'. Laughable.
Little did he know that she was more of a fan than he cared to recognize.
"So, Castle," Ryan murmured, jabbing his index finger at the cover, "that's Nikki Heat?" He laughed.
Esposito snorted into his coffee and wiped his face with a napkin. "Hate to think of what Kate's saying. Though to see herself- in character, of course- of the cover of one of your books?"
"Tickled pink," his co-worker finished, obviously hiding something.
Castle raised an eyebrow and paused. What were the two of them getting at? His query was apparent on his face as thought.
Esposito was the one to speak, his usually merry face actually solemn.
"When Kate's mom was stabbed, your books helped get her through it. You gave her the motivation to get into the force."
Both of the officers were silent as they sipped their coffee. Castle looked at the scrubbed surface of the congoleum table, expression incredulous. Kate owed something to HIM? Him, Castle? And this was before they'd even been crushed together.
Ryan exhaled, smiling wanly. "I guess the cat's out of the bag. Her motivation is your words."
There was a pregnant pause as the novelist digested these deep words. The strand of hair he kept pushed back slid forward awkwardly. He plowed it off of his forehead. "I am my words," he choked, pounding the rest of the coffee in his glass. Rick pulled a five out of his pocket as a gesture of thanks and half-stumbled, half-sprinted out of the diner.
He had to find Beckett, now. But what would he say?
Rick Castle ran the whole of the short distance back to the station. The two cops he'd gone with didn't try to stop him. Maybe they understood the gravity of his situation.
When he got in, he found Beckett sitting alone in the board room. She had a set of files set out in front of her, and paid him no attention when he sat down next to her.
Kate bristled at her partner's disconcerting silence. "Castle? What's going on?" She turned to see him staring down at the surface of the long table, face questioning. It was a rarity that the novelist let his guard down like this.
"Kate- I-"
He shook the expression off of his face and exhaled raggedly. "Ryan and Esposito told me about how much you appreciate my work. Appreciated, I should say."
Beckett's jaw dropped. She let the pen tumble out of her fingers and onto the table as she swivelled her chair to face the writer. "That's- ridiculous..." She tried to bluff. Unlike poker, however, her personal life was not so easy to shield.
"It's fine. I suppose the feeling is mutual," Castle mused, running a shaky hand across his stubbly chin.
The detective raised her eyebrow, cocking her head to one side. "What do you mean, 'The feeling is mutual'?" She leaned forward to get closer to Rick than she'd been in weeks.
He bit his lip. "I suppose I appreciate what you do. You're phenomenal- Your job, I-"
His statement was interrupted by a light, close-lipped kiss. Beckett had leaned forward, eyes lidded, and stolen him. When she pulled away, her gaze was unreadable.
"Your work is the reason I got back on my feet. Without inspiration-" She was stopped by a much deeper kiss from her partner, who seemed to smile as their mouths brushed.
He pulled away, his touch lingering on her silken cheek. "Without inspiration, neither of us would be anywhere right now."
Kate nodded affirmatively, taking his hand in two of hers. They were small, her hands, Castle thought, but there was something weathered about them. They were strong. As they joined again, she couldn't help but realize how gentle her partner was being today. No wit or slap-to-the-face humor to match hers. He was... broken.
Moments, hours, days, passed as the communion continued. Painstakingly, every nerve in both bodies began to warm up and prepare. Beckett had transferred her weight onto Castle's chair, and she was nearly on top of him. They thrusted and brushed against each other vainly, as though to fill an absence that couldn't be taken there. Unlike the first time, now they were equals. They didn't fight as halves.
Each had found the piece to finish the other's puzzle.
They fed each other, fitting together perfectly. Beckett's breath hitched in her throat as Castle's fingers traced meandering eddies down her slender back. She stifled her need to moan in his mouth. The writer found some satisfaction in giving her the same aching pleasure she'd gifted him with before, though perhaps not so rough and needy.
When they pulled apart, her hazel eyes gazing contently into his cocoa-brown ones, Kate found herself wondering why she'd acted this way before. At that time, they hadn't yet seen the other's side, truly. Maybe she'd just been establishing herself as boss; she was the one holding Castle's leash. But this way was so much more endearing, much more chaste and gratifying.
Castle pulled back to study the beautiful woman. His pulse was in his throat.
"You know something, Castle?" She mumbled, voice quivering. "I could always depend on you. And now, I hate to admit it, but I find myself depending upon you again."
He looked into her eyes, still, only to find that the golden chain with her mother's ring dangled outside of her shirt. The writer tucked it inside, and Kate pulled away.
For the first time in her life, Kate Beckett felt truly vulnerable, unsure, and confused. She walked out, out of the office, just to be painfully alone again. Maybe she wasn't ready to fall in love with someone she knew she could trust. After all, in the past, the only person she knew she could trust to love and protect her was herself.
Kind of... emo? *cough* I wrote this as a sort of softener to my first Caskett fic, to set the stage for when they finally can trust each other to...
Muahahaha. Wouldn't you like to know?
I'm officially in love with Stana Katic now. OH SNAP.