Decided to write, when I should be packing for five hours of driving back to school/writing my research proposal. Wha-la!

Disclaimer: I made this up, but borrowed the characters. :P


Victims, Easter, and Superpowers

"Howdy." He slipped in too close, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to place her coffee on her desk, bringing the sweet smells of spring air and morning caffine directly up her nostrils.

"Hey." She beamed, heart a-flutter with his closeness. God, she loved the way he smelled. Of old spice. Of his loft. With faint hints of feminine products, which she attributed to his mother and daughter. She loved that she could smell that on him – his love for his family. Her chest swelled.

"You know we don't have a body…" She hadn't called him, but he…

"Came on my own accord. That a problem, Detective?" Fingering the warm container of her coffee, her senses were incredibly stimulated. The warm liquid separated from her fingertips by only thin recyclable cardboard and the way he was looking at her – she could barely meet his eyes. It was overpowering. In the best way.

"Not at all," she silently communicated her girlish giddiness at his surprise appearance, the way she'd been doing for a while now. To make up for her sins, against him, to give him what she could, of her. She so desperately wanted to give him her heart. She grabbed hold of his eyes and let it shine out of her irises. "…but I don't want to hear any whining." He was standing beside her desk, still crouched over her. So freakin' close.

"Yeah bro, this is the big boys play pen. Suck it up." Esposito swung around the corner out of nowhere, causing a bashful blush to sprout heavily from the centers of her cheeks. It wasn't like he'd interrupted a moment of intimacy. But it was kind of like he had interrupted a moment of intimacy. In the precinct!

Oh, God.

She twisted for a stretch in her chair as Castle removed himself from her personal space, sitting anxiously on the edge of his own seat. Scanning the surrounding desks and their occupants, she saw a few heads turn away from her, a few mumblings cut short. They're talking. Nosy gossip police. Awful. Professionalism was her primary orientation, not Castle. Though…they didn't have a case, and Javi and Ryan were always in each other's faces…what was so special about her? Okay, maybe she knew. Her cheeks took no vacation from their blush, taking a little guilty pride in the fact that her coworkers thought she and Castle were a "thing".

It meant no little tramps would make a move on him.

Taken aback by herself, she quickly returned to the report she had been reading before Castle's – welcome – intrusion. Since when had she become so possessive of him?

"You look like you're about to wet yourself, Castle. Either hit the lou of spit it out." Eyeing him momentarily, she kept (pretend) focus on the papers on her desk. It wasn't of any importance if Castle believed she was busy, but if Gates caught her slacking, slacking with Richard Castle, no less, she could be placing traffic cones for a couple of days.

"Oh! You noticed." His excitement made her shiver. That earned him an eye roll.

"Do it again, Kate." Suddenly with a sultry lick of his lips, he eyed her.

General observational intellect was no superpower. Apparently, she'd eye-rolled too soon. She dropped her pen dramatically, opening her body towards him, hands spread on knees squeezed together. The denim of her jeans felt good – Friday casual, nothing better.

"No. No raves, no furry parties, no cruising police radio stations, no prostitutes, no after-hours scandals, no piercings, no tattoos, no Little Odessa. No." All memorable instances of their past, all things he wanted to do with her (although sometimes she thought they were things he wanted to torture her with), all things that, if they had happened only by circumstance of case, were never going to happen again.

Even though she liked, just a little bit, the idea that he hadn't yet given up the charade, that he wanted to do things with her. Like…maybe he wanted her. Still. After ten months. Since the funeral.

He pouted. "You're no fun." Ah, she really wasn't. "But, I believe I may finally have you in my trap." His eyebrows shot off of his forehead, smile contained, though so obviously eager. She didn't say anything, simply waited, her lips pressed together in a straight line. She wanted him to work for this, whatever it was.

"An anonymous source entrusted me with some information. Information, that assures me you are currently planning on spending Easter Sunday all alone." He sopped up her unmasked surprise (she had not been expecting something so realistic), filled with glee that he had taken the mighty Kate Beckett off pointe. Before she could spell out a flat no, he quickly continued: "This means that you have absolutely no reason to decline an invitation to Easter with the Castles."

"Damn Ryan!" She'd set him up for this, of course. But, for Castle, she played it off as another of her "superpowers".

"Anonymous, Kate." He cast a nervous glance at Ryan's empty desk. Castle knew he was now a target.

"I usually spend Easter with my dad, Castle…"

"…who is on a cruise he won in a lottery." He had her. His fingers gripped the edge of her desk, knowing so.

"Fine. I'm not the most religious person; I was going to lie low. Catch up on some reading, clean, reorganize my life. Dead bodies don't dust my shelves, you know." She picked up her pen, nearly dismissing the matter in closing her body off to him.

"Kate. Hey." She wasn't going to look at him. Looking melted her resolve. Looking made her want, more than anything, to spend this Easter, and each one from this year's onward, with the Castles.

No.

No, Rick. Enjoy this Easter with Alexis. I'm no one to intrude on your last one together.

She realized with a little start, that the conversation consisted of merely whispering to herself, mentally, and that he was completely silent. He did not offer his voice, a defense. Hell, an offense. He wasn't working for it. What…what was he doing? Instinct inclined her to…but she wasn't looking. Not at him.

She waited. Silence. The precinct was alarmingly quiet.

"Have it your way, then." The words crept around her, soft and defeated in a way that pronounced far more than just this one "no". They sounded heavy. Heavy with every "no" she had shot his way, empty, and forlorn. He stood from his chair, did not pause to bid her farewell, and began walking away.

Easter was in two days. She had two days to think, to build up the courage, to change her mind.

Didn't she?

Something skittered around her stomach before punching her right in the gut. Absolutely nothing made this Easter significant.

Except that it was Alexis' last before leaving his nest, and going to college. And where she, Kate Beckett, would rather him have the whole day to shroud his little girl in love and chocolate and peep jousting, he, Richard Castle, would rather have her, his partner, with him while he did so. Because it was Alexis's last Easter before college. Because Richard Castle was hurting, trying to accept that. He wanted her with his family selfishly, split with his feelings for her, and her availability. Perhaps he hid his ulterior motives with lust and other slow tortures, but beneath all the fun he wanted to have with her, he mostly just wanted her presence. Her support.

She barely caught the elevator with her slender hand, stepping in as he recognized her, and swept his gaze immediately down and into the corner of the space. Standing next to him, she felt like a concrete wall had been raised between them. The doors closed on their swollen silence.

Be brave. Be brave. Speak! "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's alright, Beckett. I'm sure Meredith can make it in." Solemn words. Hopeless words. Words that meant he was going to be doing things with-

"Not that deep-fried Twinkie." Fire spit from her tongue. The shock, the drastic change from indifference to appearance of emotion on his face, was what made her realize she'd said that, aloud. Holy-

"No, Castle. No." As if he needed any more depth to the bags under his eyes, her words seemed to blacken them. But that wasn't what she meant! Not that kind of no! Shit.

"Hey. Rick." She lifted her arm tentatively, touched his dangling elbow with care, let her fingers trail down to his wrist, and drop back to her side. He responded by facing her, carefully, wounded and afraid of her and her terrible mouth. What words would she cut him with, next? His eyes wondered in what further way she could contort his heart; his mouth drooped in a sad, desperately ill frown. She'd done this to a guy who had dedicated his books to her, and in the same way, his life. Her insecurities were minimal, compared to the ways her victims met their ends yet she fought for them. Her insecurities were minimal, compared to the heartache that accompanies a parent being detached from his one and only child. Detached from the motivation in his smile. His own smell. His…identity. His identity. She was a part of that. Maybe, if he could collect enough pieces of his wily being, he wouldn't fall apart so spectacularly when she left him.

In that moment, Kate wasn't sure whether she was considering herself, or Alexis as the "she" leaving. What would happen to him, if he lost them both? A slight preview was readily available, upon his weary face. Upon his slouched shoulders, and curved spine, it was evident – the beginnings of a lost man. She'd been lost, derailed for a long time, years ago. She wouldn't wish anyone to be without themselves, their identities. She knew a few tricks, how to cling to what was true. Instead of using her experience to console him, for good, she'd told him no, enabling the cycle of lost souls and their heartache. She was disgusting. She didn't understand why he fancied someone so vile. But he wanted her. He wanted to feel safe and complete, one last time. Before the acceptance letters arrived.

"I'll be there." The elevator dinged on one, as she walked him out of view while the doors opened, against the wall of the small box. His eyes roamed all over her, afraid if he believed her, she would yank it away from him. She reached up to his cheek, bracing herself against him with a palm steady on his chest, and lightly brushed her lips against the bone beneath his cool flesh. She fell away as quickly as she had come near.

His lips parted, "Alwa-" but she returned, came so very close to his lips, covering his voice, breathing his air, smelling his smell. So that maybe her lingering would lend him hers.

It kept him silent, but this time, a silence of awe, a silence with promise. As she exited the elevator, all business, she observed a receptionist and passing officers turn their gazes elsewhere, very much witness to what had just occurred between her and her partner. 'Let them talk.' Let it makes its way to Gates that even when she was off-duty, she was working.

She fought for the victims, for their families, because she knew what it was to be that helpless when someone you love is suddenly gone, when you're shut out and can't get behind the badge. Alexis Castle was a victim of sorts. She would fight for her. And she would fight for her family.

With no less than her superpowers.


Happy (belated) Easter!

[Lily Mac