A/N: Huge thanks to the wonderful Lou for the prompt, I hope you like it, sorry it's short :)
"Tell me you need me."
She can't breathe. What did he just say?
She clutches the phone tighter as she tries to form words. "Excuse me?"
"I'm stuck at a bank, helping my mother get a loan from my banker. Please tell me there's a murder somewhere we can be solving."
Oh. Thank God. Just her misinterpreting the phrase. There's a hint of disappointment simmering in her stomach, because, yes, she needs him, so much.
If she could actually manage to tell him that though, it would be great.
"Ah, sorry. There's no dead bodies, just a lot of paper work. But you're welcome to come and do your share. For once," she teases, pushing away the thoughts that are definitely too complicated for the moment, bringing back the ever so reliable banter.
"The only thing worse than being here, is being there doing paperwork."
Oh yes, she knows all about his hatred for paperwork.
"You know, how come we're partners when I'm chasing down bad guys and as soon as there's paperwork, I'm on a solo mission?"
She hears him exhale, and he quiets, like he's thinking how to respond, and her brow furrows. Surely he can't be upset by that?
"Castle, I was only joking you know? You don't have to do paperwork," she assures, wishing she could be in his head right now so she could understand what he is actually thinking.
"I know. I just-" He sighs. "Want to be your partner all the time… in everything."
She freezes. Sucks in a breath. Oh. Oh, Castle.
How is she supposed to respond to that?
Me too, but I don't know if I'm ready.
"I- uh-," she gets out, but her throat has closed up, and oh God, why did he say that now. She clenches her free hand, can feel her pulse everywhere in her body, heavy and loud.
"I just mean- I feel bad for not helping you, Beckett," he backpedals. She knows he meant something more, though he probably didn't even mean it to come out originally. But she knows it's the truth.
I love you, Kate.
She wants to cry, out of frustration with herself more than anything, swipes under her eyes to brush away the non-existent tears. Her heart aches, she wants to say more, be more, for him. Wants to give herself completely to him, and she's working at it, she is. Maybe she's not working fast enough.
This conversation is making her dizzy, longing to reassure him, but God, she can't get the words out.
"It's ok, Castle. I- understand." She emphasizes the last word, hopes he can read the subtext they usually excel at.
"Uh- good. Ok. Well- I should probably be getting back, Mother is probably going to tear this place apart if she doesn't get her way," he laughs, but it's forced, and she closes her eyes, clenches her jaw, hating that she's making him like this, tiptoeing around her. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
She opens her eyes, takes a deep breath. It's ok, they've got time. She'll get there.
"Tomorrow."
She hangs up the phone, runs her fingers through her hair, then lets her forehead fall forward into her hands. Her palms are damp, and she lifts her head back, wipes her hands roughly on her jeans. Why can't she just be good enough, be better already? Her frustration, her hurt, her anxiety, swarm her thoughts, a muddled mess of what ifs and too soons eating at her insides.
She wants to tell him, and maybe she should. Tell him she wants this, wants them, but she's not there yet. Tell him that she heard him and she's sorry for lying, but she just could not deal with it back then. They had the talk on the swings and she thinks he understood. But what if he didn't? She could, say something, reassure him. Tell him as much as she can, so he knows he's waiting for something, something that she hopes could be amazing.
What are you really scared of? That he won't wait for you? Or that he will?
Why not?
With her burst of courage, she picks her phone back up and dials his number. Blood rushes and pounds in her head, but she doesn't get much time to dwell on her fears, because he picks up after the first ring.
"Beckett?"
"Do you want to have dinner with me? Tonight?" It's rushed, her words spilling out of her. She feels lighter, the words already lifting some of the weight that has been pushing her down since the summer.
"You mean- like- uh-" he chokes out, a squeak to his voice.
"Uh- yeah- like a date. Sort of. I just- need to talk to you."
He's silent again, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, her heart like a drum and her limbs weak. God, Castle, say something.
"Yeah- yes- definitely. I'd love to have dinner, Kate," he rushes, but she can hear the smile in his words and butterflies fill her stomach, her throat, bursting from her as a smile stretches across her face.
"Great. I'll pick you up at seven."
She's smiling wider now, and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth to try and contain it. She's going to fix this, fix them. Maybe not immediately, but she can't let him slip away from her because of doubts and fears.
It's going to be ok.
She has a date with Castle.
A/N: Thank you to the wonderful girls who read this over for me, I owe you guys a lot.