Kate Beckett sits at her desk. The 12th precinct just about empty aside from a few rookies getting their last minute work done and a detective hanging up from a rather heartfelt apology to a grieving family... The chair next to her desk, is unoccupied. She takes this rare moment to herself, and opens her desk drawer down to her right, pulling out a book.
She holds the book in her hands carefully, as if she's afraid it will crumble into a million frayed pieces. It's one of the books that barely survived her apartment blowing up and it's worn and weathered from constant use. So she holds it delicately, one hand scratches along the pages, her fingernails catching in the tiny grooves. It causes a sound, much like a zipper sliding upwards. Her other hand, runs along the spine. Ever so softly, as if for a lover. She can feel it's smooth surface under her slightly shaking hand. A glint from the lights overhead gleams off the still shiny book jacket, making the words speak to her, one word in particular rising a warmth and flutter in her heart.
Castle
Her eyes slide shut briefly. Her long lashes kissing the flesh under her eyes, and then feathering open. She turns the book in her hands, again slowly. As if prolonging the moment even though she's handled this book thousands of times. In her weakest moments, the moments where she's scared, or forlorn. This book, and the others much like it, have been her solace. This one more than the others.
The first.
Her first.
Her thumb plays with the edge of the cover, lifting it a little, and then letting it come back down again with a small thud and whoosh of air between the pages. The book now rests in her lap, her index finger smoothing over the jacket. Outlining the title. She's still fiddling with the cover. The light bounces off it as it moves, her fingers dancing along the words until she reaches his name. She stops her soothing, looking around her as if she's about to be caught doing something intimate.
But she is.
When she still finds herself alone, for the time being. She traces his name, a smile creeping at the corner of her lips, and then she opens the book. The spine crackles in protest, seemingly echoing throughout the silence of the bullpen. Her eyes dart to the break room, where she sees him making them a cup of coffee. As if he could hear it open, hear the quick pulse in her neck, the thudding of her heart. Her eyes linger on him a moment longer before they drift to the page.
Her heart quickens. As if she's seeing the writing on the page for the first time. As if she's standing in that line again:
Her nerves are getting the best of her. The book is clutched so tightly to her chest, her arms and fingers are starting to ache. The line moves... the last person is getting their book signed, and OH! It's her turn! She pries her fingers from the book to hand it too him, trying to school her features and not come off like every other crazed fan in the bookstore. He isn't looking at her yet as he pulls the book to him and opens to the front page. Before his sharpie presses on the fresh white page, he lifts his head. His brilliant blue eyes connecting with her green ones.
Instead of signing right away, his face brakes into this unmistakable smile. One she sees even now. Everyday when in context to her. But at the time? She doesn't know what it means. Only that she has captured him. Not only with the way she looks, she thinks...but perhaps he can see something in her, she doesn't see in herself. And instead of just signing it with his usual manner or sending her off with a 'thanks for reading my book', or 'thanks for coming out.' He's speechless.
"Kate." She tells him, as his mouth opens and closes, as if he's forgotten what he's supposed to be asking. His eyes fall down to his own book, hand still on the page. And then his eyes come back to hers. He smiles as if he's been caught in an intimate moment. And maybe he was.
"Very, nice to meet you, Kate." He says then. His tone lighter, yet deeper. Not in the usual way he would use with his readers. The whole thing conspires in a matter of seconds. To her it feels like a ripple in time. A lapse in the revolving world beneath her feet. All the sounds of the bookstore come back to her. Having lost herself in what appears to be a moment. She realizes he's finally writing something. She had been watching him sign everyone elses books up until she stepped up to this table herself. But, she notices that he is writing something not like the others.
Kate closes her eyes, hand splayed across the page. His words to her. She doesn't need to see them to know what it says. She has read it countless times. Maybe more than the book itself. Leaning back against her chair, She lets out a sigh vaguely hearing the clinking of cups far off, but it's replaced by his voice. Her own little mental voice over.
Kate, (The girl with the sad green eyes.)
Never let the weight of the world, keep you from being who you are, and who you are meant to be.
Richard Castle
At the time, she only took it for what it was. Great advice from a stranger... well, she was a stranger to him. But he was not just some guy to her. He was her solid ground. Still is. And that advice? It meant the world...something to hold onto, like the words in his books. But now...now it holds greater meaning. Value. Thinking back on it, Kate knows now that she didn't listen. What she said in therapy proves it. She wants to be more.
Kate hears him approaching, but her eyes stay closed, one hand cupping the book, the other still laying across his writing. His signature peeks out from under her pinky. She feels his presence before he sits down, smells the coffee, and feels the steam before he sets it down in front of her. She opens her eyes, leaning forward to capture more of that delicious scent, and then hums low in her throat. The book lays cradled open against her chest as she reaches for her coffee.
"What are you reading?" He asks. Eyebrow raised, cup halfway to his mouth. He takes a sip.
Kate prolongs her sip of coffee, bringing it down to rest on her desk again. Eyes on him as she licks stray coffee from her lips. She leans back, eyes drifting away from those blues of his, and down to her book. She releases her hold on it. Thinking about it for a moment before handing it to him, open to his signature.
"We met once." She tells him. Her is voice soft, heart eager.
Castle tilts his head to one side. Staring at the book he has yet to take from her. His brow creases in a way she doesn't quite understand, and then he puts his own cup down to delicately take the book offered. He says nothing while he sits forward, book on his knees. He reads it silently and she watches the play of emotions on his face. He looks thoughtful as he reads, which is something she's sort of surprised about. She would have thought he would be astounded. Shocked to think they had met and he never remembered her.
Castle runs a hand softly over her name. And then his little pen name for her. A smile creases the corner of his blue eyes as they sneak up to snag in her green. But he doesn't see a hint of sadness anywhere in them. Oh no. On the contrary. What he sees, reflects in the deepest of his blues. A feeling so mutual, it guides his heart everyday.
He fixes her with a loving gaze, his lips curving up in a way that almost makes him look smug. He closes the book, handing it back. "I know."
I am actually unsure if this has been done... I have read a few where she tells/shows him that they met once. That he signed her book for her. Ect. But not that he actually knows about it.
Thoughts?
This will be about 3 maybe 4 fanfics going..so I may or may not have the next chapter up anytime soon...that is if you guys want another chapter...
