Midnight Scribbles
AN: This is basically an AU story of Caskett's first meeting set in 2004. It should be about 4 chapters and I really hope you like it.
To Ema, my motivational monkey.
A midnight scribble,
A morning sigh,
You watch the words,
Curl up and die
Michael Faudet
She feels the soft clatter of wheels on rails through the cold plastic of the seat underneath her. It is hypnotizing, calming and she loves the feeling of the soothing vibrations of the subway, likes the hard edges of the seats, and the smell of people, smoke and this distinct scent of New York that dominates in the wagons.
Few people accompany her ride this morning, yet the air is filled with chatter, people talking to each other, two teenage girls fighting over a boy, who appears to have kissed them both, an elderly couple across from her is holding hands and talking about what will be for dinner. She likes taking it all in, listening to the people around her. Strangers, people she will never meet again and that have no idea who she is, likes to disappear in the broad mass of New York for just a while and enjoys the feeling of being but a mere drop in a huge ocean.
She watches the darkness of the tunnels passing by through the wide windows opposite from her. It's a thick, velvety darkness and she meets her own reflection in the glass. She notices the dark circles underneath her eyes, notices the fatigue that is pouring out of them and releases a heavy sigh. She should sleep more.
She breaks her gaze as the darkness outside grows lighter and lighter until it finally dissolves into the blazing lights of the nearing station.
She hears the doors opening to both of her sides, hears the beeping sound that accompanies them and hears the groups of people that enter and depart from the train.
Just as the subway starts moving again, gaining speed almost immediately, a little boy drops down on the bench across from hers. He smiles at her, a wide, gap- toothed grin and she can't help but smile back at him. A woman comes and sits down next to him, carrying a small child buried in her arms, bouncing the small bundle gently as to keep the child asleep through the bumpy ride.
"Can I have chocolate?" the little boy asks her, eyes opened widely, brown eyes pleading with his mother and Beckett has to stifle the smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.
"When we are home" the woman says tiredly. The boy shoves his lower lip forwards, resulting in an adorable pout but doesn't ask again, before he turns his attention towards Beckett.
His eyes travel from her black, high-heeled shoes on the floor, up to her face that is framed by pixie cut hair, sizing her up, observing her with curiosity shining in his dark brown orbs until his attention gets caught on the glowing gold metal resting on her hip.
"You a cop?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with the obvious fascination he has for the woman in front of him.
"Jimmy" his mother scolds him, giving him a silent look, which makes him duck his head and look at his feet, suddenly shy.
"I'm sorry" the woman turns her attention to Beckett "he is a really curious kid."
"That is quite alright" she shrugs and turns her attention to the small boy, who is blinking up at her "And yes I am a cop"
A huge smile starts to spread on his face at her response and he immediately sits up straighter, dangling his feet excitedly from his seat.
"So you gonna arrest somebody now?"
She smiles at him openly now, barely suppressing the laugh that threatens to spill free at the kids excitement.
"No, I'm actually on my way back to the precinct now."
The boy nods earnestly, pulling his lip between his teeth, pondering on his next question when the train arrives at a new station.
"Time to get home Jimmy" his mother says, already standing up. He looks at her with an expression of shock, wide eyes shifting between his mom and the cop on the bench until he slips off his seat and reaches out his hand for Beckett to take.
"It was nice meeting you"
She is taken aback for only a moment until she takes the offered hand and replies.
"Yeah you too"
The boy smiles at her, pride beaming from his tiny frame until he turns around and skips towards the door, towards home.
She leans back against the backrest again, left alone with her thoughts once again and lets her eyes travel towards the ceiling.
Colored blotches of spray fill the otherwise grey texture of the ceiling and she lets her eyes wander through her wagon, over the heads of people next to her, the bright colored posters over the windows, advertising new glasses and insurance companies, over to the empty bench to her right.
There's a tattered newspaper on the floor, reading yesterday's headlines and a small black book lying underneath it. It looks like a notebook and before she knows what she's doing she gets up from her seat and moves to the neighbor seats, picking up the small book as she sits down once again.
The book is wrapped in leather, soft from being held, opened and closed many times before and she traces the soft texture of the book with her fingertips before she opens it.
The first page is blank but as she flips it she is met with a black bordure, framing four words written in a loopy handwriting, black ink on the white page.
Property of Richard Castle.
So, what do you think?