A/N: This is a song fic, based on "All this time", by OneRepublic
I chose to go AU, from Rise when Kate goes to the book signing. What if he needed a moment to think?
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. Whaaaa?
For Fels, who loves this song, and who loves Caskett. Always, and beyond.
Six on the second hand till new year's resolutions
There's just no question what this man should do
Take all the time lost, all the days that I cost
Take what I took and give it back to you
xXx
Kate had told him, without telling him, just what she wanted. Maybe what she needed. Sitting on the swings in the playground, she explained it to him. She couldn't be the person she wanted to be, and couldn't have the sort of relationship that she wanted till she got closure. The 'with you, Castle' went unspoken. But she thought that he might have understood. His steady gaze bore through hers. The subtext was merely an illusion, wasn't it? When he could read her so plainly?
Kate hoped he could read her. Figure her out. Because it took her damn well long enough. She held her breath when he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came. He closed up, looked away, jaw set. She cast her eyes to the ground below them, and held on tightly to the chain suspending the swing she sat on. A gentle breeze caused them to sway the slightest bit, and she looked back up at him, silent and thoughtful. His hair had flopped over his forehead, and she held tighter still to keep from combing it back with her fingers. Because she knew she wouldn't stop at that. She knew that would lead her to caressing his face, gentling away the lines that she'd no doubt helped put on there. She'd do that and then regret it, because as much as she wanted to be at that place? Not there yet, Kate. So she looked away.
Finally he spoke, "I need some time to think about it, Kate."
She fought the sting in her eyes, and nodded. He deserved that.
Time.
He deserved so much more. This was something she could give him. Time, just as he gave her over the last three months. He's asking for it, and she thinks he's being generous. That he's considering it at all; means the world to her. All the time that she's cost him; cost them; cost the possibility of them. All the opportunities they've wasted between the two of them. It could have been easier. Though, maybe it wouldn't have been right. It wouldn't have been the right time. Maybe now it can be. She hopes so. He's asking for time? It's a small price to pay.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, Castle."
"Okay," he whispered back and nodded.
"What now?"
"Now, you head back to your job, and I head back to mine," he said, nodding to the store they just came from.
She couldn't stop herself from wincing. She had come to think of him as a permanent fixture at the precinct. In her job, and in her life. Taken him for granted. Castle will always be there. Always. And so when he said 'your job', she hoped that that wasn't his final answer. That it was just a way of saying that he needed to think on it. He did have to finish his book signing. She did have to get back to the precinct; her break was almost up.
They sat in silence for another minute. In silence, they rose and prepared to part ways. But before they did, just as silently, he took her right hand in his. To the world, it would have looked like they were shaking hands. He moved his thumb over her wrist, like a caress. But she knew, and so did he, that he sought confirmation. He needed to feel her warmth, to feel her pulse; to really believe that she was in front of him. Rick's eyes held hers, as their hands lingered for just a moment too long to be a casual gesture. He let out a breath, like he was holding it in anticipation. As if he didn't dare to believe his eyes, his ears; but he could believe his sense of touch. He pulled her closer, and she came. Without hesitation, she came into his space, so familiar, so safe. Close enough to hug, close enough to kiss. She turned her head a fraction, enough to feel the warmth of his skin. He turned his, enough to feel her breath on his face. And he took a deep breath. The breath that she'd stolen when she fell, breathless in his arms.
He pulled back. She heard his faint murmur of, "I'll call you", and opened her eyes to watch him turn around and walk away. "I'll wait," she said softly in return.
All this time we were waiting for each other,
All this time I was waiting for you
We got all these words, can't waste them on another
So I'm straight in a straight line, running back to you
I don't know what day it is; I had to check the paper
I don't know the city, but it isn't home
But you say I'm lucky, to love something that loves me
But I'm torn as I could be, wherever I roam
xXx
Rick was torn. Between being angry and being relieved. He wanted to laugh, and wanted to cry. He'd been so worried. Didn't know where she was. Didn't know how she was. Didn't know whose she was. He thought that she'd be with Josh, still. Hoped, though it hurt his heart, that she would be with someone who could give her what he longed to. In a way, he felt bad that she didn't have that someone. She did have her father. In a way, a burden lifted, knowing that maybe – just maybe, she was his.
He was torn. The decision of whether he should walk away, to avoid the possibility of being hurt more than he already was. Walk away? Or walk to her. It wasn't like he'd be walking into her waiting arms. Not like it would all fall into place within minutes. Not like they'd have the kind of relationship he wants, or she wants. The kind of relationship she may want. She wasn't exactly clear about that, although his mind is saying, clearly, she meant him. Who else could it mean, when she looks at him like that? Who else could it mean, when she'd just broken up the steady, considerably long, serious (or so he assumed) relationship? Who else could it mean, when she came looking for him? Through her pride, and through his hurt, she came looking for him.
His pride, and his bruised heart kept him from telling her that he'd been waiting for it. Secretly, or – probably not so secretly, been miserable with it. Been pathetically lost in his mind. Lost in the past that he couldn't change, and in the words that he could. Kate Beckett, he couldn't do anything about. Nikki Heat? At least she was his. Without a doubt. Maybe, just maybe; he'd been wrong. Kate Beckett …
He'd been waiting for her, hoping she would call. Hoping she would come to him. She did. He sat up straight, knowing what he had to do. He'd written those books based on her. He'd written them knowing she would read them. So when he'd been writing them, consciously, or subconsciously, he'd written them for her. Words were his life. He'd given his words to her.
He wasn't torn anymore. A little bit of heartache, for the possibility of a lifetime of love? Seemed like a fair bargain. Whether she was his or not, why fight it when he knew he was hers?
He left the loft, decision made.
Oh, every time is so far. It's just so far.
To get back to where you are
All this time, we were waiting for each other.
All this time I was waiting for you
xXx
She recognized the knock on her door, stupid as that sounds. Knew whom it belonged to, before it even ended. She had to restrain herself from bounding to the door, as if she'd been doing nothing but waiting for that knock.
Realistically, she thought it would have taken him longer. Perhaps not the amount of time it took her. Perhaps more, and she thought she might have deserved it. She shouldn't have been waiting for him the very same day he asked for time. But… Who was she kidding? She was.
She opened the door, without bothering to look through peep hole, without bothering to ask who it was. It might have been stupid. Given that she was just shot and all. But she knew who it was.
She stepped aside to let Castle in. Couldn't read his face, one way or another; and it scared her. Closing the door behind him, she took a breath to gather some nerve, and turned around to face him, gasping because he was closer than she'd thought. Just a foot or so from her. She stood with her back touching the door, barricading him on the inside. Or barricading herself.
"Kate," he started, "Three months of silence from you. It was torture." His eyes reflected just how hard it must have been.
She nodded. "It was." She didn't mean just for him. It was torture to her, too.
"And I don't know what you expected when you came back today," he continued, "whether you thought that I'd just forgotten and moved on, or that I was done with you, or that I was waiting for you with bated breath…"
"Castle," she went to interrupt, because she didn't know. She didn't know if he'd forgotten, or moved on from her. She didn't think that, because it was hard to even consider it for a second. But maybe – maybe she should've considered it. That she may have broken them.
"I was," he said firmly.
"What?" Her mind was on a tangent. Preparing for the worst. She'd told him once, long ago, that he didn't know her. He knew her better than most everyone. Sometimes, he knew her better than she did herself. She liked to think she knew him. This was a scenario she had hoped for, but didn't dare think of actually happening.
He moved closer, just inches of space left between them. "You have this annoying habit of stealing my breath, Beckett. It's frustrating." His left hand supported his weight on the door, and his right hand landed on her waist. Held on with a firm grip; a confidence that surprised her. "Absolutely maddening. About time you showed up."
Her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. "Does that mean – what does that mean?" She asked with her brows furrowed.
He grinned. "It means, that you should probably think of a way to award me for my saint like patience. But, considering that you've been patient with me over the years, I might consider us even."
"You – I – what?" she said in further confusion.
"Although, if you really think about it, you found me annoying for a short while. Eventually you found me adorable, and oddly endearing. Not to mention ruggedly handsome."
"Castle –" She was having a hard enough time concentrating with his hand on her waist, and him all up in her space.
"Are we going in to work tomorrow or what?" he asked with grin, and a good amount of finality.
At that, she smiled back. A smile that he'd never seen before. A smile that she thought, maybe she hadn't ever smiled before. Just as quickly though, it fell off her face.
"Kate? What's wrong? Isn't that what you wanted?" He said, looking almost sad again.
She grabbed the lapel of his jacket suddenly. "Yes. Yeah, of course. But –"
"But?"
"I hadn't really thought about how… I mean, I thought Gates wasn't letting you back," she said.
He grinned smugly. "Pfft. Small fish. I'm not at the precinct because there was no reason for me to be there."
Kate bit her lip, and smiled up at him. "Yeah?" She stroked her fingers over his jacket.
"Yup," Rick replied, his thumb moving over her shirt. "Nothing that a quick call to the Mayor's office won't fix. You giving me a reason, Kate?"
"A really good one," she said with her eye brow raised, looking for all the world like his Kate Beckett. The one he was waiting for.
"And what might that be?"
"Research," she shrugged.
It took him by surprise, but he should've known she'd be cheeky. He laughed in delight, love rushing through his veins, warming his heart; even more so when she laughed along with him. It trailed off, leaving a glow on both their faces, as he rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. She closed hers too.
"Tomorrow?"
She nudged his nose with hers. "Tomorrow."
He moved back, his hand lingering the slightest bit before he drew it back, and she moved to let him leave. Because she knew, after all this time, that tomorrow would be another day. Another small part of their always.
A/N
Eh. I try not to get sappy. Ineffectually.
Also, sorry for any horridly obvious errors. I kind of smashed this out, but didn't have time to go over it.