AN: My first prompt fill from castlefanficprompts on tumblr and also my first one shot! Hope you enjoy. This was also posted on my tumblr - the link to which you can find in my profile. I hope you like it and please leave a review! They help me improve my writing and my storytelling, ultimately benefiting you! Prompt will be listed at the end.
"May I join you?" the far too chipper request came from her right. She grunted. The man sat down anyways. Great. He apparently has the inability to see that she just wants to be left alone. Maybe he just can't see due to cataracts. She snorted at her own musings.
She cannot believe her family put her in this god forbidden place 10 years too early. That is unfortunately what happens, though, when your children are spread out across the country, your ex-husband (good riddance) is long gone, and you have heart complications from a 40 year-old gunshot wound making you subject to intensive health care the rest of your life. Not that there is a lot of it left to be had. She sees why it had to happen, but that doesn't mean she can't be bitter about it. God - it's just so-
"Tough crossword?" the man asks.
"Excuse me?" she glares - her train of thought interrupted.
He clears his throat under her scrutiny, "It's just - your brow furrows when you're angry," at least he has the decency to look sheepish, "It's cute. What's got you stumped?"
Seriously? Is this geezer hitting on her? She has no idea for she hasn't been hit on since the thirties, probably not since the twenties if she is being honest.
"I'm not stumped," she snapped with a final glare and redirected all of her attention back to the crossword on her tablet.
"You know…" he interrupts her peace again, "I have a Penny Press Crossword Book if you wanna kick it old school with me."
She glances at him, hesitant.
"Come on, you're already doing some puzzles, why don't you lend a geriatric old man your brilliant brain? You might not be stumped, but I have been stuck on 32 across for the last decade," he pleads with a grin.
She finally considers him and his request. His face is worn, showing his age and his experiences. He's more rugged than handsome, but with the charm oozing out of him and the striking blue eyes currently piercing her soul he definitely has still got it. Maybe it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for her to make some friends here. Have some people to share the bitterness with, although this man seems anything but bitter.
"Alright, what's got you stuck?" she relents.
"Oh, thank God, what is a four letter word for Levantine coffee cup starting with 'Z'?" he spills out.
"Seriously? A four letter word starting with 'Z' and pertaining to coffee has you stumped?" she can't believe it. She would get this in her sleep. He has to be pulling her leg.
"No, seriously, and I've been stuck on it like all month," he mutters sadly, reaching into his back pocket for his extremely well loved crossword puzzle book. He whips it out and in no time, frantically flips to the specific puzzle.
"You're one of those people who hate coffee, aren't you?" she pans. There is no way he would miss this otherwise if his completely solved puzzle book is anything to go by.
"What?" he asks, clearly distracted, and she just waits him out.
"Oh! God, no, I love coffee, like so much. I even had an espresso machine in my last house and made my own lattes. I was probably even a barista in another life to be honest, and not in a broke college student way, but in an 'I choose to be a barista,' way," he rambles. Nervous. He's nervous. She makes him nervous. She likes it. It's been a long time since she's made another man flustered. She didn't realize how much she missed the power.
"Then you should be even more embarrassed. Any coffee lover could name this. As a fellow coffee lover, I have the power to revoke your card. Consider it revoked," she smirked.
"Please enlighten me, coffee guru extraordinaire? What is the four letter word for a Levantine coffee cup?" he begs. Even bringing his hands forward in what would seem to be prayer.
"Zarf."
"Zarf?! But that's not a cup! That's the stupid cardboard thing that goes around the cup to protect your hands!" he is clearly upset.
"Sorry, old man, but before it was an insulator, it was a part of serving coffee in the middle east. If you have ever had authentic Turkish coffee or anything similar you would know this already."
He begrudgingly writes in the word, and immediately begins to solve the surrounding clues. The other answers led to arguing about foreign cinema and religious rights. Needless to say they had a vigorous debate about the Voodoo religion and their various rites and rituals. They eventually decide on an answer, and half an hour later the puzzle has been solved. She is a little sad the activity is coming to a close.
"Well, thank you. My book is now complete. I hope you gained some satisfaction from helping me fill in those last squares," he says as he rolls up the worn out book back in his pocket.
"I did actually. I also learned that you seriously need to up your coffee game and also get with the times. We are halfway to the 22nd century and you are still doing Penny Press Puzzles that were around in the 20th," she gets a hearty laugh out of him for that. His eyes crinkling in delight at the seams.
"Well perhaps you could educate me? My daughter would usually jump at the chance but she quit showing me new technology after I asked her how to use iLive one too many times," he chuckles.
"God, that home robot thing was infuriating," she agrees.
"It really was. Did your kids give up on you too?" he jokes.
It was an innocent question that hit way too close to home. Maybe he could sense that, for his face falls with hers.
"I'm sorry, you can ignore me, I have a reputation for being invasive and asking the wrong questions. I… I am sorry."
He looks genuine so she lets it go. He didn't know any better.
"It's fine. It just was a little too nail on the head, is all. It's kind of the reason I'm in here, and they didn't give up on me per say; they didn't have much of a choice."
"I doubt you had a choice either."
She nods.
"This was just easiest," she acquiesce. She wishes it wasn't so, but she needs to admit it if she ever wants to move on.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I am in here for that reason as well."
"Oh? You're in here because of heart defects with children riddled across the globe who can't care for you because they are too busy with their own lives and an ex husband you would like nothing to ever do with again?" she asks disbelievingly. She also may have just revealed too much.
He grins. "Well instead of my heart being my health problem, it's actually my bad knees. My daughter let me live with her for a while, but I fell down the stairs one too many times before she suggested moving into a home. Can't say I disagree with her, it was mortifying when my granddaughter, Abby, came home from school to me laid out at the bottom of the stairs and having pissed myself because I couldn't get back up let alone crawl to the bathroom," he gets a far away look on his face, but trucks on with a smile, "And I haven't been married since I was in my 30s. I highly doubt they would give a damn now. I know I certainly don't care for what they are up to."
"Them?"
"Yup. Plural. My ex-wives. Meredith, my first wife, gave me Alexis so I certainly don't regret that marriage, but she wasn't a fan of loyalty, which is kind of my number one thing when it comes to relationships so that ended and while she has been an okay mother to Alexis, she certainly could have tried harder so I am still bitter about that. Then there was Gina, who was also my publisher. Once our marriage turned into what our professional relationship was like, I was done,"
She nodded in understanding. He was a fascinating man. Here he was opening up to her like it was no big deal. Wonder how long it will be before he stops? All day probably. Maybe even tomorrow. Oh, does she want to see him tomorrow? Hmm, she does. What is it with this guy? One minute she is stewing over her future and the next she is seeing light at the end of the tunnel and it is all because of him. Maybe it's his cheery disposition. Wait - did he say publisher?
"Publisher?"
"Hmm," he hums thoughtfully, "Yes, those were the days. I was an author."
"Was?"
"I was Richard Castle, Master of the Macabre. Wrote those Derrick Storm thrillers. You ever heard of them?"
Well, that was a loaded question. Of course she heard of them. That was pretty much all that was in her old kindle library, not to mention that they pulled her out of depression after her mother's death. Hell, they practically shaped her identity.
"Hmm, so who are you now?" she asks, carefully avoiding his question.
"Just, Richard Rodgers. Back to the old me. The me who was never a playboy for the press and the me who was never an author."
"Why'd you stop writing?" she pressed on, leaning forward and resting her elbows onto the table.
"Why do I feel like I'm in an interrogation? You're really hounding me with the questions," he assesses as he leans back in his crickety seat.
Ah, so he picked up on that. Her kids always said any question she asked was very intimidating. Guess she has a hard time turning that off even though she had to leave the force.
"First of all, you offered all of that up of your own free will. Not my fault. And second you're probably getting that vibe because I used to be a cop. A detective," she adds nervously. It has been a long time since she has told all of this to someone who didn't already know it. She just feels like after he unloaded on her, it is the least she can do to do the same. For some reason, she knows he won't judge, won't pity, won't question. She likes that. Maybe she just likes him. Shit.
"A detective?!" Great, now he is excited, "What did you work in? Vice? Narcotics? I bet you were such a hot cop."
"Were?" she glares.
"Well, you are definitely hot now, so how could you not have made a hot cop?" he says smugly and dammit, if that didn't get her to blush. She hasn't been called anything remotely near hot in years. She blames the grey hairs and the wrinkles marring her complexion.
"Well, if you must know, I actually worked homicide. Detective Kate Beckett. I solved murders," she reveals.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Detective Kate Beckett. That is so awesome that you're a detective. This is like fate or something," he is giddy with it. Wiggling around in his seat. He is so beautiful when he is excited.
"I'm sorry, what's fate?"
"Us meeting!"
"Come on," she huffs. Now he is just a wacko.
"Well it's too much of a coincidence for me to have written mysteries and for you to have solved them. If I didn't know any better I would say that you and me… we're meant to be."
"Bull shit," she says, but she says it with a grin because his optimism his contagious.
He notices.
"See, you agree!"
"No, you're just endearing," and she swears she has never turned so red in her life. She did not mean to say that.
"So, my fated soul mate, -"
"-not your soul mate," she tries to interject.
"Would you care to grab some coffee? Perhaps we can find a zarf and you can educate me some more so I can get my coffee lover card back."
"You think you have what it takes to earn it?" she fires back.
"Oh, I know I have what it takes. I can earn that card and more," she doesn't doubt that he could, especially with the innuendo he is throwing around.
"Fine," he's just too irresistible. Especially when he looks at her like she drew the stars. It gives her feelings.
They have their coffee that morning, and the next, and by their 6th meeting for coffee he kisses her. A chaste little thing like he's been doing that every morning over coffee their entire lives. She loves it. She goes back for more. He makes her feel young again, like she isn't over 70, and completely dependent, and alone. She likes to think she does the same for him. If the way he skips down the hall with his walker is any indication, she would say she definitely does the same for him.
A couple months later they still do crosswords and meet for coffees together, but they also cuddle on the couch, neck like teenagers to whatever movie is on, and go on dates to the park next door or to the recreation center across the street. She just...loves him. How he makes her feel. She's never had this before. They spend nearly every moment together and she doesn't mind. It is the most married she has ever been and they haven't even talked about it. They just are together.
They meet each other's children when they find the time to visit. Her three children, Jonah, Adam, and Ellie, love him. He plays with her grandkids like he is their same age. It's adorable. She thinks they can see the impact he has already made on her life. His hopefulness seeping into her soul. His only child, Alexis, and her husband Aaron, seemed to like her enough. His grandchildren loved the way she put their grandfather in place. She thinks Alexis got a kick out of that, too. How she's not scared to go toe-to-toe with him.
He brings it up not long after they have done the meet the family thing. He sits her down at the same table they met oh-so fatefully according to him and proposes. Down on one knee, with a ring, and everything. Pleads with her to get married before they're old and that he swears he has never loved another so much in his life. She jokes they already are old - or well, at least he is. He just rolls his eyes - a trait she apparently taught him. Getting him up off of one knee so she could kiss him proved to be quite the chore. Two nurses had to help him back up, but he swears it was worth it.
They get married a couple months later, at a church nearby and have the reception in their old folks home with their old folk friends. She isn't sure she believes in Rick's crazy theories, he's got a lot of them, but she thinks she just might believe in his theory that they're star crossed lovers. She especially believes it when he races her down the hallway in his walker or organizes a scavenger hunt with the staff just to see her smile. She does a lot of that now - smile.
Prompt: AU meeting. Elderly Rick and Kate meet in a retirement home.
