Anonymous asked: OMG part 2 about after Josh leaves. It was just so freaking good

Hi Anon! I'm sorry this took me so long to get to you. I hope this sequel of sorts to Fair's Fair is what you were looking for!

The Good Stuff

"Then call him. Not me."

"I think that's how you can be fair here, don't you? By being honest with the person you want to be with?"

She does nothing.

Two weeks pass without a word about Josh, the downfall of her relationship with the good doctor, or the kiss that set everything in motion. So when Castle and the boys assume she has Valentine's Day plans with Josh, she lets them believe that.

Until the moment she and Castle are seated across from one another in a bar just blocks from his old friend's brownstone and she can't keep the truth from him any longer.

"What time do you need to go?" he murmurs, never looking up from the amber liquid in his hand.

"Hmm?"

"To meet Josh for dinner. You said you had a couple of hours, but what time do you really need to go?"

Curling her hands around her own glass, she shakes her head. "There is no dinner with Josh."

Her partner's eyebrow arches. "There's not?"

This is supposed to be about him, commiserating the friend he'd once had, but already his pale blue eyes are trained on her, expectant, wanting the story.

"No," she says, lifting her whiskey to her lips. "We broke up."

His eyes flash with something she's not sure she has the courage to name just yet - remorse? Sympathy? Hope? - but he simply nods.

"Sorry to hear that."

He probably isn't, but he does an admirable job of trying to be for her sake. It is sweet that he would make the effort.

She doesn't regret her decision, just how she went about it. Doing it in the middle of a bar five minutes after sitting down had not been her finest moment. But then again, she knows staying in the relationship when her heart wants someone else would've been worse.

"I, ah, when?" Castle asks, plowing ahead because he just needs more than a bombshell without explanation.

One shoulder lifts toward her ear, and she fights the urge to pull her leg to her chest and put another barrier between them. She shouldn't need to shield herself from her partner. Others, maybe, but not Castle.

"As soon as he got back from Africa. I'd… I had a lot of time to think about things, and it just wasn't going to work out."

Especially not after she had felt the care in Castle's touch, and the heat of her partner's breath against her lips.

He nods again, looking away at the last second to study his drink.

"It was just fair to do it then, instead of dragging it out for much longer, you know?"

Castle nods, lifting his glass in agreement. "All too well."

Yeah, she remembers him ending things with Gina just a little while ago. He has been happier since, she knows.

They sip in silence for a minute, then two, before she adds, "I offered to buy him a breakup dinner."

Castle coughs on a laugh, burying his face in his arm as his eyes flood with whiskey-burn tears.

"You're kidding," he croaks finally. She watches him swipe a hand over his face, clearing the moisture, before she offers a wry twist of her lips and a slow shake of her head.

"Nope. I told him it wasn't going to work out, and I apologized for springing it on him, and then I offered to buy him dinner."

Castle licks his lips, clearing his throat. "That's… wow, Beckett."

He's teasing her, that much she knows. Trying to pull her out of whatever funk he thinks she's close to sinking into, even if it's at the expense of his own tender heart.

"Yeah, so clearly I'm very good at this sort of thing."

He chuckles a bit. "No, I think… though it was maybe a little bit different, I think you did okay. After all, it was amicable, right?"

Lifting a shoulder, she nods. "Amicable enough. And I… I guess that says something, doesn't it? That neither of us felt strongly one way or another?"

Her partner studies her. He has been careful with his words lately. More than she would have ever expected him to be. But after their fight the other day, after his brief explanation of Damian Westlake's importance to him, she understands a little better.

"Yeah, I think it does."

Beckett nods. "Yeah. So, to answer your original question, I have no curfew."

"Good. Neither do I, not really." Off her look, he adds, "Mother and Alexis both have dates and won't be home until late."

"Ah," she murmurs. Lifting her glass to her lips, she takes another pull from her glass. "You're not going to wait at the front door in case Ashley tries any funny business?"

"Hah hah, Beckett," he drawls, turning her lips up. "Alexis forbade me from scaring him again."

"Uh huh. Well, in that case," she pauses to down the rest of her whiskey, "I think we need another drink."

Castle does the same, reaching for her empty glass as he stands. "Same as before?"

Her head bobs, lazy on her shoulders, and she settles back against the cracked vinyl seat. "Unless you want something else."

"Nah that was the good stuff. You spoil me, Beckett."

She snorts, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. Yeah, right.

He returns with two new tumblers and a basket brimming with burgers and French fries.

"It's not Remy's, or a table at Le Cirque, but," he trails off, lifting a shoulder.

"No, it's great. Thanks, Castle."

And it is; she enjoys chic dinners and dressing up, but bar food with her partner has just as much appeal as fifty dollar plates and tiny portions. It is still a meal with someone she lo- someone she cares about, and that's enough for her.

"So," she starts once her belly is full. Castle is still rooting around in the fry basket, picking out the stragglers and popping them into his mouth, but she's done. The meal had been exactly what she'd needed, and she thinks from the relaxed slope of his shoulders that it had been exactly what he had needed, too.

He looks up, one part deer in the headlights, one part curiosity. They had mostly eaten in silence, enjoying the closeness if not conversation.

"Hmm?"

She wants to ask him about Damian, wants to hear more of what the young man had done to bolster her partner's confidence in himself and his abilities, but she won't ask him to rub at that particular wound right now.

Instead, she cocks her head, waiting for Castle to wipe his hand on a napkin before catching his fingers in her own and giving them a quick squeeze. "Boarding school, huh?"

Her partner's eyes widen, but he doesn't retract his hand. "Ah, yeah. For years. Mother was with a traveling theater company, and after a certain point, I couldn't go with her because of school. I was almost held back once because I had missed one day more than what was allowed."

"Yeah?" she asks, smoothing her thumb over his knuckles. "Which grade?"

"Fifth," he answers, clearing his throat. "I had to take a special test to prove I had learned enough to go onto sixth."

"I missed a lot of school when I was in fifth grade, too," she offers, watching him file that information away for later. "So instead of traveling, your mom found a boarding school for you?"

He nods. "Yeah. A few, as you well know. The first few didn't work out because of money; one actually asked me to leave after fall term, and I finished up the rest of the school year in a public school, staying with a friend of my mother's."

Kate squeezes his fingers, nodding for him to go on.

"Edgewick was the first one to offer me a scholarship to attend. By that point, I was just… miserable with all of it. The packing, the dorms, trying to fit in somewhere. Obviously, there wasn't much to be done; Mother was in the middle of a good run and she was working so hard for us… So I wrote about it instead."

Her heart taps a heavy rhythm against her breast. No wonder he had been so attached to Westlake.

"I'm sorry about your friend, Castle."

It's not enough. It is not nearly enough, but she means it with everything she has in her.

"Thanks. Things did get better after that. I clowned around, yeah, but I made actual friends, too. And when Edgewick kicked me out after two years, Faircroft Prep took me on as a scholarship kid."

She refrains from asking why he was forced out of Edgewick; if he wanted to tell her, he would have. "Is that where you graduated from?" she asks instead, tilting her head.

"Ah, no. I… there may have been a prank that went too far for the administration. It was a group of us, of course, but as the scholarship kid, I was the expendable one."

Of course he was. Squeezing his hand, she nods for him to go on.

"I was technically homeschooled for the rest of my senior year so I could finish on time."

She nods once again, waiting to see if he'll say anything more. When he doesn't she licks her lips, murmuring, "Well, even with all that, I think you turned out okay."

It must be the right thing to say, because his lips curl upward and the crease in his brow disappears.

"Thanks, Beckett. I did end up pretty fantastic, didn't I?"

Her eyes roll. "Humble, Castle."

His smile deepens anyway, and she finds her own matching it. In all truth, he is pretty great; she just cannot let that go to his head.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asks after a moment, skirting the pad of his thumb over her index finger.

Beckett fights the urge to shiver at the touch, instead focusing on his question. He's ready to leave the bar, but is he ready for the night - is it even night yet? - to end?

She isn't.

Her teeth worry against her lip as she nods. "Take a walk?"

He nods in return, easing his hand away from hers and slipping out of the booth. She watches him throw their coats over his arm before he holds out his free hand to her.

"Shall we?" he rumbles, helping her out of her seat.

Their fingers slot together, keeping them close as they weave around empty tables. She sees Castle nods his thanks to the bartender just before opening the door and gesturing for her to step into the evening light ahead of him.

The sidewalk isn't crowded, but they try to find a pace that won't drive the other pedestrians mad anyway. The laughter they share when they are forced to weave around a pair who isn't making the same considerations earns them strange looks, but Castle shrugs it off.

Around the fourth block, she eases her hand out of his grip, looping her arm through his instead. He hums his approval, murmuring his palm had been getting sweaty. She begins to hide a grin in his shoulder before changing her mind and allowing him to see her amusement.

"I know, it was kinda gross."

For that, she gets a playful nudge to the shoulder.

"Hey, you know it's your turn, right?" he asks a few blocks later, after they've ducked into an ice cream shop and endured the line for waffle bowls of rocky road and cookies and cream.

"What?" She looks up, her spoon poised halfway to her mouth.

"High school stories, Beckett. I believe it is your turn."

"Is it?" she teases, returning to her bite of ice cream. He makes no secret of watching her lips slip around her spoon, watching her throat work as she swallows. "Hmm, maybe it is."

Glee works its way into his smile, pushing the flash of ragged lust aside.

"But," she adds, dropping the spoon into her bowl and patting his chest. "Let's save that for next time."

He slumps at the refusal, but only long enough for the rest of her words to hit home. "Next time?"

"Next time," she confirms, turning back to her dessert. "Can't have you learning all my secrets at once."

Her partner's head bobs in concession. "Well, I suppose that's fair," he drawls. "Next time it is."

Next time it is.