Sitting in his regular chair beside Kate's desk, Castle cradled his fourth cup of coffee since returning from the abandoned warehouse. Though it was well into the early morning, the boys had known better than to suggest that he go home. Gates had tried to talk him into it, but naturally he refused. He wouldn't be getting a second of rest until Beckett was returned safely; he wouldn't lose her again.
By that point shortly after eight a.m. they knew barely more than they had the night before. Tyson had not been in contact again, so they'd been exhausting their resources trying to find him, but per usual the serial killer was too clever for them. There was no sign of him on any camera footage from around Kate's apartment—assuming he'd even taken her from there—and there was nothing from the warehouse, either. Though they never spoke it aloud, Castle could see the phase 'dead end' practically written on Ryan and Esposito's foreheads and he hated it. The feeling of losing Kate was still so raw within him that he didn't think he could survive it a second time.
Castle took another gulp from his coffee mug, bringing it down to the dregs. Just as he was contemplating a fifth cup, a soft, and almost angelic-like sound hit his ears and he dropped the mug back onto the desk.
"Castle?"
He popped up out of his seat when he saw the woman standing just a few feet from her. He would have thought the prior day to have been merely a horrifying hallucination, as if she had always been right there at her desk, were it not for the fact that she was somewhat strangely dressed. Judging from the way she looked, dressed in a navy blue NYPD t-shirt and pink cotton pants, he presumed her to be dressed in her sleeping attire from two nights prior. Already concerned for her wellbeing, he scanned her face and exposed arms but saw no obvious damage. "B-Beckett?" he questioned, almost afraid to believe she was real. When she smiled gently at him, he felt as though his heart exploded. "Beckett! Oh god!"
Unable to fight the urge he plowed forward, nearly tackling her where she stood as he locked his arms around her body. She took a half step back to balance herself against the force of his hug before her hands lightly touched his waist. He hugged her even tighter, burying his face into her hair and breathing in the faint cherry scent of her shampoo, completely forgetting that they were still actually in the middle of the precinct until he heard Ryan and Esposito calling out for their partner.
Though Castle had no desire to let go, he reluctantly released her from his grasp and stepped aside so that she could greet both partners with quick one-armed hugs. As she slid away from Espo, Gates exited her office with a rather shocked expression. "Detective Beckett. I must say I'm relieved, but also very confused."
Kate let out a grunt under her breath. "That makes two of us. He let me go."
"He just let you go?" Espo asked.
"Well no," she backpedaled. "He tied up my wrists and ankles and then rolled me out of a very slow moving van. Restraints were loose enough for me to get free."
"Where was this?"
"Alley about six blocks away. I can show you where, but I doubt you'll be able to find him."
"He didn't hurt you? How did he take you?" Ryan asked.
"Chloroform. He must have been hiding under my bed or something; he got me after I was already lying down. When I woke up I was in a windowless room tied to a chair—subterranean, I'm guessing. It had to have been…I don't know—a ten or twelve minute drive from where he dropped me off, but that's about all I can tell you. Not that it matters—I'm sure he's long gone by now." She concluded, folding her arms over her chest.
Gates and the male detectives continued to ask her questions for another few minutes before Gates dispatched Ryan to start scouring security videos and Esposito to gather up a team to canvass. Only once they were left alone did Castle step forward and speak her name softly. "Kate – are you sure you're okay? What about when you fell out of the van?"
She shook her head. "I'm fine, Castle, you don't…" She let her voice drift off as she glanced up and down his body then when her eyes settled back on his face her brow wrinkled. "Have you been up all night?"
"Ye-yeah, of course I…I didn't…"
"You should go home, get some rest." Her tone was not impatient, but she was clearly dismissing him. To even further indicate that she believed their conversation was over, she began rummaging through her bottom desk drawer, presumably for the spare set of clothing she kept there.
Despite her actions, Castle was reluctant to leave. He was afraid to walk away only to have Tyson reappear and inflict more damage. Actually, the more than he thought about it, he did not want her to leave his sight until Jerry Tyson was once again behind bars, though he very much doubted she would agree to that arrangement. Still, with the vision of the body he thought was hers so vivid in his mind, he could not bring himself to simply walk away. "I…I can stay. I mean, if Tyson's still out there then-"
"Castle, really." She stood upright again, bundle of clothes tucked in her left arm, and knocked the drawer shut with her shin. "You don't have to stay. I mean, you left right?"
"But I-"
"I'm fine, Castle; no harm done." She smiled reassuringly at him.
"But…there's things…I'd like… we should…I don't…" He shook his head and brought a hand up to rub his eyes when he could not force a coherent sentence out of his mouth.
Her hand landed on his bicep and she gave it a squeeze. "Castle, you're exhausted. Go home and get some sleep. I'll call you with an update later, okay?"
"Yes please—please call me!" he said a bit more aggressively than was actually necessary.
She appeared amused if not slightly confused. "I will…go rest, Castle, and don't worry about Tyson; we'll find him."
Castle was standing in his kitchen, staring absentmindedly out across his living space when he heard the knock at the door. When he'd arrived home, he'd done as Kate suggested and tried to nap. His body certainly felt weary enough to sleep, but his mind raced, concocting dozens of horrible scenarios, each more disturbing than the one before it. Though he dozed off initially, he startled himself awake twice thinking he'd heard the sound of Tyson breaking in to his bedroom even though he knew that to be nearly impossible. Then again, he probably would have said the same thing about Beckett's apartment, and look how that turned out.
Ever since getting up he'd wandered around aimlessly. He knew he didn't have the focus level needed to work on Frozen Heat so he'd walked to the closest store and purchased ingredients to make dinner. When he arrived back the task of cooking seemed to arduous, so instead he pulled out some takeout menus, but even they didn't seem appealing. He'd sat down to watch television and evidently fallen asleep, because he woke up and realized it was after five p.m. That had been nearly an hour earlier, but he hadn't done much since. Now it appeared his path to dinner would be interrupted again by whoever was at his apartment door.
Upon gazing out of the peephole, Castle instantly forgot about his empty belly and quickly unlocked the door to reveal his partner—er, former partner? Well, their status was up in the air at the moment, but perhaps whatever conversation they were about to have would clarify it.
"Beckett—hi."
She offered a small smile. "I know I said I'd call, but is this-"
"Yes please, please come in." He stepped aside so she could enter the apartment and then he shut the door behind her before asking quickly, "Did you find him? Tyson? Or did something else happen?"
She shook her head and gave him a disappointed expression. "No, no Tyson's in the wind; there's no trace of him."
He frowned though he could not say he was entirely shocked.
"We'll get him, Castle. I can't tell you when or how, but I promise you we'll get him."
"Yeah." He grunted while thinking to himself, but before he hurts many more people? Of course there was no way to know that or stop it, but he desperately hoped Tyson would just disappear off to an island somewhere, alone and away from people he could hurt. Such a thought was not at all realistic, but it was what he needed to think for the moment.
"So, um, did you rest at all?"
He sighed and raked his fingers back through his hair. "Um, at little I guess. I just… I can't turn off my mind. I just keep…I just keep thinking of everything—going back to the first day we met him—trying to see if there was a clue, something we missed, but…"
She nodded as though she understood his struggles, but said nothing. Instead, she took two steps further into the apartment and gazed around. Turning back to him she asked, "Is Alexis here? Or your mother?"
"No."
"That's probably good; we need to talk about some things." Shen then led the way to the office where they sat at opposite ends of the love seat in there. She tucked her leg underneath her as she sat and gazed at him steadily. "You know why he took me, don't you Castle?"
"To torture me."
She nodded. "That's precisely it—he just wanted to torture you. I don't think he ever had intentions to hurt me. It was all part of his…game."
A mirthless laugh escaped the writer's lips. "Well then I guess he won again."
"He's really fixated on you, Castle; it's unsettling."
Castle skimmed his hand across his lower jaw as he considered that notion. It didn't shock him, certainly. Tyson had made it very clear that in their game of cat-and-mouse he viewed himself to be the feline. And of course the last thing he wanted was to be the fixation of a serial killer's obsession—that was not a favorable position for anyone—yet there was nothing he could do about it. He could only hope that day's game was enough to even the playing field and Tyson would simply disappear without a trace—even if it meant they wouldn't be able to put him back behind bars for his multitude of crimes.
"I'm sorry that you…that you had to be collateral damage; I'd never want you to be hurt because of me."
She pressed her lips together tightly and wore a peculiar expression for a moment, and then she said, "You know, I didn't tell Gates everything during my debrief today."
Castle's eyes flared wide as a horrifying thought crossed into his mind. "Did he…did he hurt you, Kate?"
She shook her head. "No, no; nothing like that. He…he had a TV feed on that warehouse you went to and he let me watch the moment when he killed that poor woman you thought was me."
"He…" Castle began when his brain began moving too quickly for his mouth to keep up. A video feed on the warehouse? The blinking red light beneath the chair! It wasn't the reception device on a bomb; it was the indicator light that a camera was recording! That's why the SWAT team hadn't been overly concerned when they stormed the building, but he hadn't notice; he'd been too busy trying not to vomit.
"I saw it—all of it—and I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
Castle raised his head to meet her gaze, kind and sympathetic. He felt his skin prickle with discomfort as he was transported back to that moment in his mind. The moment where he'd wished he'd faced the barrage of bullets instead of she; the moment he thought he'd never see her alive again. "I really thought you died, Beckett," he rasped out.
She reached out her hand and placed it over one of his, touching him for the first time since he'd walked out of the precinct—and her life. "I know."
They sat in silence for the better part of a minute as Castle gazed at her. In that brief few minute span of time during which he thought she was dead, Castle was too stunned by his grief to think of anything but the visceral reaction he was having. Later, as they drove back to the precinct, he made a silent promise to himself that when Kate was safely returned to him they would have an open and honest conversation even if it was the last they would ever have. The duration of their partnership was veiled in so many implications and not outright statements, only blips of truth and not full honesty. He felt it was only right they laid everything out on the table so that there would be no regrets; they owed each other that much, and it seemed that moment was as good as any.
"When I…when I thought that you died I thought of dozens of different things, like the beautiful, wonderful, long life that you deserved and now wouldn't get. That Tyson had stolen your happy ending from you and it made me so angry because that's what I want for you—for you to be happy, but selfishly I thought of other things—my own happiness, I suppose, but more than that: my own closure. I promised myself that I would ask this and I know you've had a rough two days so I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I just want to know."
She tilted her head to the side and gazed at him, curious but a little bit guarded. "What are you talking about, Castle?"
He took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, before asking, "Why didn't you just tell me you didn't feel the same?"
Her expression turned into one of genuine confusion. "About what?"
His heart stuttered and told him not to say the words, but he had to; he didn't have a choice. "That you didn't love me, or didn't want me to love you or-"
"What are you talking about?"
Her confusion persisted so he was forced to be specific. "You remembered what I said to you the day you were shot but-"
"Oh, Castle." She breathed in sharply and stood quickly from the couch, pacing a small circle in front of where he sat before stopping in front of him and raking her hands through her hair. "No—no, no, no."
He stood as well, placing himself nearly toe-to-toe with her. "'No' what? You said you remembered, I heard-"
"In interrogation…yeah." She cut him off with a note of self-loathing. Brushing her hand over her mouth she looked for a moment as though she would be ill, but then she shook her head and looked at him directly. "God, Castle—that's not. I didn't… I know hiding the truth from you was wrong, but it wasn't for the reasons you think."
"What do you mean?"
"I was scared—scared because I felt the same."
He took a step back from her as his mind began to race once more. Because she felt the same? Did that—oh god—could that possibly mean that she loved him too? He could hardly believe that to be the truth, not when he'd spent the prior two months thinking the exact opposite, but if that was the case, what in the hell had happened over the prior year of their lives? And why would she be afraid? If she didn't think he felt the same, sure, but she knew that he did.
"I don't understand. Why would that scare you?"
She folded her arms over her chest. "Don't you remember what we talked about on the swings after your book signing? I wasn't ready."
He pressed his lips together tightly. Yes, he did remember that conversation. At the time, he'd translated it to 'Kate Beckett wants to be with you' and silently agreed to wait as long as she needed, but in the wake of finding out the truth he figured his interpretation had been incorrect. If it was correct, why hadn't she just told him more and alleviated all confusion? "You could have said that while also not lying to me, Beckett."
She dropped her chin to her chest. "I know that. I'm sorry. It was wrong to lie and I'm very sorry that you were hurt by it; I promise that wasn't my intention."
Standing there, he considered her for a moment. Yes, he could have been angry that she hid her feelings from him, but he was also doing so with the luxury of hindsight. She had been afraid in the moment and, given what he knew about his partner, she was not one to overtly display emotions. She'd probably been too terrified to be honest and he supposed in the interest of building a future together he could forgive her for that.
"So…where does that leave us now?"
She looked up at him tentatively. "Well I…I kind of thought you'd moved on until I saw that video feed."
"Move—moved on!?" He spluttered, barely knowing the meaning of the phrase. By that point, despite his anger, he had barely crossed into the 'living day to day while tolerating the searing pain in his heart' phase.
"Well, yeah with Jacinda or…whoever else."
Jacinda? Who the—oh, Jesus, the flight attended…right. Shit, he was an idiot. "No, no that wasn't..." he shook his head and wiped his hand across his mouth. "That was nothing—just me acting like a fool after being hurt." Truly, it could not even have been considered a fling. He simply liked the attention she'd been giving him in the wake of his heartache from Kate, but in reality it would have taken him months to truly be over Kate Beckett; his feelings ran too deep.
A tentatively hopeful expression crossed her face. "So you still…?"
"Yeah," he said easily, taking a step towards her. Oh yes, he still loved her even more so in the wake of knowing what it felt like to lose her. "And you…?"
"Yeah."
He took another step towards her. "And you're not dead."
"Definitely not."
His heart feeling like it was about to beat right out of his ribcage, Castle stepped close enough to bracket her waist with his hands. He gazed down at her for a moment, taking in the fact that she was alive and had never appeared more gorgeous, before saying, "I'm going to kiss you now," and doing exactly that.
Castle felt Kate's arms encircle his neck as her lips crushed against his. He pulled her body closer as he kissed her again and again. His mind was focused on the heat of her mouth and the softness of her body in his arms, which was good, because if he considered that in the prior twenty-four hours he'd gone from thinking she had no romantic feelings for him to thinking she was dead to knowing that she loved him too his brain might have imploded.
After dusting a few kisses across her bottom lip he drew back enough to gaze into her eyes, humming out, "Mm Kate…how, ah, how slow do you want to take this?" As far as he was concerned, he could strip them both naked and make love to her then and there, but if she wanted to wait, they would (but, god, did he hope she didn't…)
She grinned and lowered her hands from behind his neck to the flat plane of his chest where she undid one of the buttons on his dress shirt. "Well, you did watch me die today…"
"You did almost die." He clarified. If Tyson had wanted to, he would not have thought twice about putting the real Kate in that chair and drilling her body with bullets.
She popped open another button. "I know."
"Kate." He sighed, dropping his forehead to hers and skimming his hands down over her ass.
A soft whimper escaped her lips and she told him, "I want this; I want you." He needed no more confirmation.
In one swift motion he bent his knees and secured his forearms under her backside so he could lift her up and carry her the ten steps it took to reach his bedroom. He set her down beside the bed, caught a glimpse of the wild and sexy look in her eyes, and practically growled in anticipation. "God, Kate." He sighed out before pulling her back in his arms and covering her mouth with his. She parted her lips and let his tongue sweep inside and he sent out a silent prayer, never more thankful that she was alive, because life wasn't worth living unless it was this one—the one with her.
Within a few minutes she'd rid of him of his shirt and was already working the button and zipper on his jeans when he tried to return the favor. His hands grappled with the double button on her skinny jeans for several moments before he stepped back and cursed. Somehow all the stress and adrenaline of the day had settled in his hands and he couldn't stop them from trembling. He shook them out, and closed his eyes, trying to take a calming breath, but in his mind he saw her—well, the woman he thought to be her—slumped over in a chair, blood dripping from her every wound. The romantic mood temporarily dampened, he sat heavy on the bed and apologized.
She stood beside him and dusted her fingers through the hair at his forehead. "What is it?"
"I just…if I let my mind drift I can so easily go back to that moment I opened my eyes and saw you dead."
She nudged her way between his legs, standing in front of him with her knees against the mattress. She combed her fingers back through his hair until they joined at the base of his neck. "I'm right here, Castle," she said, just barely above a whisper.
"I know," he said, understanding this concept, but still his body still shivered at the thought of just how close he'd come to losing her.
She brushed her lips over his forehead, cradling his head to her breast for a few moments, not saying anything, merely letting him hold her close as she gently grazed her fingertips against his scalp.
Once he'd pushed all thoughts of that morning's horror from his mind, Castle lifted his head, gave her a small smile, and then began returning the favor of removing her shirt. He lifted his hands, popping each button at a slower-than-necessary pace, grazing his fingers across the newly exposed flesh with each lower button. Finally, with her shirt completely open to him he brought her body towards his face, cradling her waist as he lavished her belly with kisses and small nips of his teeth, each gasp and moan that escaped her lips urging him on.
Castle swirled his tongue around the outside edge of her belly button before lazily dragging it down almost to the top edge of her jeans before pausing to undo both buttons, the remaining light tremble in his fingers now for an entirely different reason; he felt as though he were literally at the edge of heaven's gates.
After undoing the zipper as well, he helped her shimmy the tight jeans off her hips and waited patiently while she stepped out of them. He reached out his hands, eager for her to come close enough for him to once again paint her flesh with his lips, but she surprised him by hopping up on the bed beside him and slinging one leg over his hips so she could sit in his lap facing him. There, she gripped his cheeks with both hands and kissed him once more, which he had absolutely no complaints about.
As Kate kissed him and occasionally rolled her hips against his lap, further stirring the sensations in his groin, Castle felt as though he could hardly breathe from the feeling of joy and elation crushing him from the inside out. This was it—the moment he'd been dreaming of through nearly four years of partnership—only it wasn't simply the end to years' worth of sexual tension, but the beginning of something—something incredible.
Castle's hands skimmed the expanse of Kate's back while his lips moved from her lips to her throat where he latched on to her pulse point until she gasped out and brought both her hands up to cradle the back of his head. He kissed his way down to her collar bone before lifting his gaze and staring into her eyes, now swirling with chocolate brown lust, with admiration. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."
A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she rolled her hips against him once more. A gasp escaped his lips when he realized he could feel the searing heat from her centre even through his jeans. She arched over him and pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips. When pulling back, she snagged his bottom lip between her teeth, giving it a little tug, before breathing out, "Probably about as long as I have."
"Probably." He growled before flipping them over so he could kiss his way down her throat, over her collar bones, and down to the valley of her breasts. In this position, he undid the clasp of her bra with one skillful flick of his hand and pulled the item from her body. He barely took one second to gaze at her petite breasts before leaning down and closing his mouth over the right nipple, swirling his tongue over the tip as she whimpered and writhed beneath him.
"Oh…oh Rick…" She moaned out, sending all the remaining blood in his brain on a southward trajectory at the use of his first name. God, he could hardly stand it; he wanted her so much.
While paying equally deserved attention to her other breast, Castle skimmed his hand down her back until it dipped beneath the waistband of her panties. He gave her cheeks a solid squeeze before creeping the item down over her hips until it was low enough for her to kick away. He then moved his hand to the juncture in her legs and moaned out, "Fuck, Kate," when his fingers were instantly slick with her wetness. God, he wanted to taste her, make her cry out his name by using only his mouth, but in that moment he just wanted—no, needed—to be inside her.
He reluctantly pushed himself off the bed so he could divest himself of his jeans and boxers, which was a challenge given how hard his erection was, but he managed. Before joining her on the sheets once more, he instinctively reached out for the bedside table draw where he kept his condom supply, but Kate, evidently recognizing the action, said, "No—you don't have to for me, I mean."
He glanced up with the foil packet trapped between his fingers. "You sure?" When she nodded, he dropped the item back into the drawer and then knelt down on the bed, intent to stretch out beside her, but he saw her expression now clouded with uncertainty. Thinking it had to do with their protection situation, he sat up and reached towards the drawer again. "Seriously, I can-"
"No." She reached out and caught his arm with her slender fingers and then shook her head. "It's not that."
His brow wrinkled, concerned that she was changing her mind now that they were both completely naked. "Then what is it?" he asked with a soft tone, wanting to make sure she was as confident about what they were about to do as he was.
She shook her head, almost as though she was not going to confess her inner thoughts, but then she looked up at him, her eyes a bit wide, and said, "I was thinking about the last two months and…and I know that you leaving this time was completely my fault, because of how I made you feel but I…I was just…"
"Kate." He sighed out, skimming his hand down her arm. Somehow he understood that she needed confirmation, she needed assurance that this wasn't a fling fueled by a life-or-death situation. That this wasn't something that would be pushed under the rug and ignored like their first kiss had been. He absolutely did not want that and hand no problem confirming it. "I'm in this—one hundred percent. Aren't you?" She smiled softly and bobbed her head; he grinned. "Good then how about we both promise each other – no more secrets, no more missed opportunities. Just us."
"Just us," she echoed, skimming her hand down his chest and over his belly.
"Yeah."
"Partners."
"Ye—Jesus." He cursed when her slender hand wrapped around his length. She chuckled and lowered her lips to the underside of his jaw, where she continued to kiss him and stroke him as they tumbled back against the mattress.
Castle shifted so that he lay on his back, his hand gently resting at the base of Kate's neck while she kissed her way down his torso. As she caressed him and made him feel amazing, wonderful things, he could not help but think the horrors of that morning had been worth it to have Kate Beckett in bed with him at that moment, both of them naked, both of them—
"Wha—ah!" Castle let out a half choke, half gasp of a noise when suddenly Kate suddenly stopped kissing and caressing him, slung one leg over his thighs and then sat on them, just inches in front of his manhood. She combed her hair back from her face, shook it out, and then gazed down at him with a searing heat. The writer swallowed hard and instantly became convinced he was going to die while experiencing one of his own sexual fantasies.
"Is this okay?" she asked softly.
"Wha—I…yeah Wait—hold on." He pushed himself up and she moved off him so he could rearrange into a seated position with his back against the pillows at the headboard. As much as he wanted to lay back and watch Kate ride him until they cried out each other's names, he wanted to be closer to her their first time together; it only seemed right.
When she straddled him again, he looped his arm around her back and cradled her body against his, both of them sharing a soft smile. "Better?"
"Yeah, don't you think?"
She merely nodded before reaching down between them and guiding him into her while she sunk down onto his full length.
The writer's jaw dropped and he let out several unintelligible noises before grunting, "God, Kate you feel—shit."
She leaned forward and gave him a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before rolling her hips against him unevenly a few times until they found their rhythm. She threaded her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck while he brought his mouth down to the hollow of her throat and held her close as their bodies moved together. God, she was amazing; they were amazing. Even in his wildest dreams he didn't anticipate this but—god—they were; it was perfect.
The more Kate moved against him the more Castle's breathing became heavy and erratic. She began to whimper and mew, calling out his name several times softly before throwing back her head and groaning it loudly just a second before he felt her body contracting around his. Fuck, she was remarkable, and he was so close behind her, but he wanted—needed—more.
With his arms around her back it was easy for him to flip her to the side and pin her beneath him as his hips jerked a few final thrusts before he met his release and cried out, barely keeping himself propped up on his forearms so that he didn't crush her. She brought her legs up to lock around his waist and pulled his body flush against hers while she skimmed her fingers through his hair and then pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Coming down from his high, Castle lifted his head and gazed down at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips slightly parted, but she looked at him with more adoration than he'd ever seen before and he instantly fell in love with her all over again. This was it; the final "first time" of his life—he was certain of it—and one hell of a first time it had been. Though he knew they would make love thousands of times in the future, he also believed that time would be one he remembered the most. Four years had been well worth the wait.
"Kate." He sighed, wrapping his arms around her body so that he could roll them both onto their sides. She cuddled against him, curing her body around his and threading their legs together. "You're incredible."
He could feel the rumble of laughter in her chest more than he could hear it. She skimmed her fingers over his ribcage and pressed a kiss against his collar bone. "You're not so bad yourself, Castle."
He snuggled against her and they lay together for several moments before he lifted his head and said, "Promise me something? That you won't get yourself kidnapped and fake shot again? I really don't think I could take it."
"Only if you promise the same."
"Deal." He lifted his head enough to kiss her, but then when he lowered it again, she remained in a position to gaze down at him rather than resting her head on her chest. Her eyes searched his face for several second before she said, "We're going to be okay, aren't we?"
As he thought her uncertainty to be unfounded, he merely smiled at her. "Are you kidding me? We're going to be extraordinary."
Thank you for reading!
As many of you picked up on, this "prompt" of my own making was what if the "kate gets shot" part of Resurrection/Reckoning took place during the 47-seconds-arc :)
