AN: Thanks to Alex for being my beta and to Jill for helping with my title. You guys are the best!
Based on this prompt: AU "I hit you with my car and I'm so terribly sorry, but you keep insisting you're fine, and you look fine (and you look FIIINE) but I still feel awful, so I take you to the hospital to get checked out, and it turns out you're actually a doctor there, and you were right about being fine, but I still buy you dinner to apologize again"
Kate Beckett was one of New York's best homicide detectives, and yet here she is making a coffee run for her and the boys. Shouldn't she be doing more important things like arresting murderers, or interrogating murderers, or something involving murder? The answer is yes, but unfortunately the coffee machine at the precinct is broken (which is definitely maybe not her fault), which is why the boys made her go out to get them some much needed caffeine.
They closed their case late last night, so Kate only had time to go home, sleep and shower before she was back on the clock. Now she is tired and stuck in the morning Manhattan traffic, and she groans loudly when she remembers the massive amounts of paperwork she has to do when she gets back to the precinct.
She's moving slowly, glancing out the windows and daydreaming about her latte when she feels her phone buzz. She instantly looks down, hoping it isn't a text from Ryan or Espo about another body. If she has to go to a crime scene this morning without any coffee, she will be doing something that involves murder and it won't have anything to do with the victim.
The text is from Espo, but thankfully it's not a body,
You better hurry back, Ryan's already asleep at his desk.
Kate stifles a laugh as she starts to reply to the message, but her car jerks to a stop as she rear ends the person in front of her.
Richard Castle usually tries to avoid morning traffic in the city at all costs, but today he has an early appointment at the hospital and he's going to be late.
His morning didn't start off great; his mother was up in arms about some back-stabbing Broadway star, Alexis woke up sick so he had to call her school, he couldn't find his favorite tie, and this traffic is just icing on the cake.
What Rick really needs is some coffee, and maybe a pastry.
He stops at a red light, internally debating between a bear claw and a cinnamon roll, when his car jolts forward. Rick snaps out of his thoughts and whips his head around to see the car behind him unusually close to his back bumper.
"I don't have time for this today," he grumbles towards the sky, as if God might have something to do with this morning's chaos.
Rick steps out of his car, expecting some pompous businessman in a rush to be responsible for the accident, but when the other driver steps out of the car, he stops in his tracks.
Not only is she gorgeous, but also he can see the police badge sticking out from under her shirt, and he feels a slight panic set in as she walks closer. She hit him, but she's a cop so that's still not good, right? What if she blames him? He doesn't know the etiquette for this type of situation, and he is just about to apologize to her when she speaks up.
"I'm so sorry, that was completely my fault, and I wasn't paying attention and-"
"It's fine," Rick interjects, stopping her rambling. Normally he would be mad at someone for hitting his car, especially after the morning he's had, but there's something about her that he just can't get mad at. Maybe it's the fact that she looks just as disheveled as he feels, or maybe the way she is pulling her bottom lip into her mouth is messing with his mind.
"No, it's not fine," she retorts, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Here let me give you my insurance information so you can get your car fixed. I'm really sorry." She lets out a sigh, runs her fingers through her hair, and turns to head back to her car for the insurance card.
Before she steps away, Rick reaches out and grabs her arm to hold her in place.
"Look, it really is fine. There's not even a scratch on my car," he says, pointing to the bumper in question.
Her eyes glance over at his car, but Rick is more concerned with her racing pulse that he can feel through the skin on her wrist. He looks back up to her face and takes in her pale skin, the bags under her eyes; he should probably let a doctor take a look at her to make sure everything is okay.
He is just about to voice his opinion when she pulls her arm away and turns towards her car for the second time.
"Okay, well I really have to get going now. Sorry again."
"Wait!" Rick blurts out, louder than he intended. "I really think you should get checked out by a doctor. I know you weren't going that fast, but you never know."
She looks at him incredulously like that was the most insane idea she had ever heard. "I don't have time to go to the hospital, I'm fine. I need to get back to work," she says over her shoulder.
"Please, it would make me feel better if I knew you weren't driving around with a concussion or something."
"I didn't even hit my head! I'm fine, trust me."
"What if I drive you to the hospital? I know some people there, so you can be in and out in no time and back to work."
She groans and he can see her contemplating the offer. Finally, she lets out another sigh, grabs her phone and stalks over to his car.
"If it means you'll leave me alone, than please, take me to the hospital."
Rick smirks at her hostile, yet polite tone and gestures to the passenger door.