Scratch and Claw
It's not really a plan at all, is it?
And somehow Kate feels worse that it takes her all morning to figure that out. How the visit to the Mall and the Lincoln Memorial, the roundabout walking tour through the disciplined streets, how none of that was planned, none of it actually is a walking tour.
Because it says he expects - at any moment - for her to have to work. He knows she has today off, but he won't get his hopes up. He doesn't think he can keep her here.
Kate stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk on F Street, her heart dropping, and he turns, a little comically, their hands linked, the ring sparkling between them.
He lifts an eyebrow, not even a word of question, just waiting. Acceptance and careful resignation. He must think she's felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket, must think this is it. The day is over.
"Let's go in here," she says quickly, jerking her head to the entrance of the Spy Museum.
A crooked smile lifts the corner of his mouth and he heads eagerly inside, the dark interior giving way to the line to buy tickets. "This is so cool," he murmurs, sounding a little more like who she remembers. "Been wanting to go."
"Surprised you haven't already," she says back softly. No judgment in it, but he shoots her a concerned look, like there might be. Like he's walking a line with her and he doesn't want to mess things up.
Kate nudges closer, lets her body flirt with his, close and warm. "Just mean you've had a lot of time to yourself, haven't you, Castle?"
He shrugs, face closing up a little. "Yeah. Been interesting. Exploring D.C."
"You used to tell me about it," she hazards, risking the nice day with her own sinking heart. "Your discoveries. You used to map them out for me."
His fingers squeeze over hers. "Doing a lot of writing."
"Oh?" She gives him a small smile and they shift forward in line. "What's Nikki up to?"
He gives her a sideways look. "Shouldn't spoil it," he says after a moment.
Spoil the plot or spoil the day?
"Castle." She opens her mouth to call him on it, but she loses her nerve at the desperation now leaking into his eyes. Instead she nods her head towards the line. "It's our turn."
He gives her a soft, thankful smile and heads to desk to get their tickets.
After wandering through the Spy Museum, Castle regains some of his natural exuberance, still talking excitedly about the stories they've read on the walls, the men and women and their secrets, the codes and missions, the thrills.
He's flexing his fingers beside her now, that signal that he wants to write, that he aches to write, and she now has the courage to ask.
"What have you been writing about?" she says into the middle of his story recounting Julia Child's spy adventures.
Castle's words stop. He doesn't look at her for a long moment and then he's heading in the other direction. "There's a coffee shop. Want to sit?"
No. But apparently he does.
Bad news, then. Something he wants to offset with a good cup of premium blend and a shot of fat free vanilla.
Kate follows him inside and scans the tables, busier than she'd like for whatever comes next, whatever causes that tightness in his eyes.
"You get us a table," she says, needing a second to shore herself up. "I'll order."
"Oh," he frowns.
"My turn, right?" She nods towards the dining area and moves to get in line, brushing off his hesitation and taking the initiative.
She turns her head slightly to follow the broad set of his shoulders through the room, watching him smile in politeness to a woman as she tries to get around him, watching him defer and let her move on.
Kate sucks in a breath that feels panicky but shouldn't be. Shouldn't. They're fine. She has the ring to prove it.
Can it-
No. No, it's just spending the last month in DC and trying to learn on the job and not having much time together. He's not going to break up with her. That day on the swings when he dropped to his knees in front of her - that proves it, proves she's reading it wrong.
She thought he was breaking up with her then.
He doesn't do that though, not with her. He jumps when she thinks he's going to back down; he steps up. He's been trying so hard all month, not saying a word against her even though it's clear she's not had the energy to try at all.
Of course, she has a haunting memory of the twisted grief on his face when he walked out her door a few years ago, when she went up against a hired assassin alone and nearly dropped to her death off a rooftop. He left her then, she can't help but remember. He left her then.
He never does the thing she expects.
Kate places their order quickly, waits off to one side after she pays. She lets her eyes roam the tables until she finds Castle again, sees he's gotten them a cramped spot in the corner near the broad windows. He looks handsome, dress shirt and jeans, eyes blue against the tense lines of his face, not even the worry able to make him less.
Such a good man.
As she waits for their coffees, she tries to steel herself anyway. Shore herself up.
If he does think - if he wants to go home, what does she say to that? What is the bottom line, the last resort for her? What is she willing to give up?
Watching him drum his fingers on the wooden tabletop, his head turned towards a sudden summer rain storm outside the windows, she can't imagine it.
Can't fathom life without him. How does she even do that? How does she come back from him?
She won't come back, all the way. She'll spend years aching over him. Years unable to read another word, his books or not, because words remind her of him. Years staring at herself in the mirror in the morning, during that hazy time before her self-will can take hold, and she'll wonder. She'll daydream about him, close her eyes for a second and still feel the ghost of his touch.
She aches now and it's not even happened yet.
Won't. It won't happen. She won't - she'll do whatever-
That's the thing that sticks her. That's what catches her up.
What will she do to keep him?
A year of therapy, breaking down a decade-old wall, flinging herself from a roof and into his bed, wearing his ring - she's done a lot to keep him, but maybe, in the end, she still believes she deserves to suffer.
Alone.