A/N: Yes. It's short, it's a cliffhanger, and you all will hate me for it. But trust me; the story is much better this way. I promise. Winter break is a beautiful thing, so updates may be rapid fire for a bit. Objections? As always, reviews are much appreciated. Oh, and I don't own Castle. Darn.
"You smell like cherries."
Kate stared at him. The look on his face was so unbelievably serious that she busted out laughing. "Really, Castle? That's your truth? That I smell like cherries?"
"No. That wasn't a question. A truth has to be question."
She smirked. "Right. Sooo…are you going to turn that into a question?"
"The question is why do you smell like cherries?"
"Shower gel? Perfume? An unhealthy addiction to Shirley Temples?"
He smiled, amused. She knew he loved when she played along. "I'm the one answering the question here, Becks. And by the way, Alexis and I have Shirley Temples with our dinner every Thursday night. You're more than welcome to join us. Mother usually spikes hers with Absolut, but I promise you that-"
"Castle."
"Yes?"
"You were going to tell me why I smell like cherries."
"Ah, yes I was."
Kate resisted an attention span joke. "And you're sure the answer has nothing to do with shower gel, perfume, or Shirley Temples?"
"Yes, quite sure."
"Okay. Enlighten me, then. Why do I smell like cherries?"
"Because it's what your mom used to smell like."
Kate's smile slid straight off of her face and shattered all over the floor. She stared at him. She felt every muscle in her body go utterly rigid, freezing her into a terribly uncomfortable posture. Her mouth was suddenly dry and hanging open as her brain searched and failed to find a response. She battled the memories and the feeling of nausea that took over every time she hadn't had time to mentally prepare herself to think about her mother.
Castle's eyes held hers insistently. There wasn't a trace of humor in his expression, and she was glad. If there had been she would've made good on her threat to kick him in the groin and then told him not to bother ever coming back to the precinct again. But he wasn't being a jerk; the look on his face told her that he was completely serious.
"I'm guessing you started wearing her perfume after you lost her," he continued softly. "Just as a way to remind yourself of her. Every time you smelled it you thought of her, and you liked that. Then you ran out of it, so you went and bought some more. Pretty soon it became your scent as much as it was hers."
Kate closed her mouth and broke eye contact. She clenched her jaw, swallowed, and cursed the annoying wet heat that was sitting just behind her eyeballs. The memory of spraying her mother's perfume onto her black dress the day of the funeral blindsided her, leaving her head spinning.
She refused to look at him; she focused on a scuff mark on the floor a few feet away. "How did you know that?"
"While you figured out who killed Christina Baylor, I figured out why you smell like cherries."
She finally looked at him. "What?"
"Christina's sister didn't see the killer, remember? Since you're so brilliant, you thought to ask about her other four senses. She said he smelled like wood. You put two and two together after that; the pet store where Darius Metzer worked reeked of wood from the wood chips they sell as hamster bedding. It gave us a reason to look at him closer."
Kate stared at him blankly, trying to understand, but she didn't. He didn't get impatient.
"When you figured it out we were in Macy's, remember?"
She nodded. "I remember. We were at the perfume counter waiting to talk to Christina's roommate."
"Yes. You picked up a bottle of the perfume you wear and smelled it, and then you asked me if I thought it was funny how we associate smells with people. How a certain smell can remind you of someone. That's how you got the idea to ask Christina's sister what the killer smelled like."
Kate stared at him, waiting for the connection.
"When you said it, you touched your mom's ring." He nodded toward her neck, where the ring hung on a loose chain. "You didn't realize it, but you smelled your perfume and then you touched your mom's ring and started talking about how smells remind us of people. I made the leap and put them all together."
Kate saw the connection now, and marveled at the way he'd put it together. She hadn't even realized she'd touched her mom's ring when she'd said it. That made it all the more impressive; she hadn't realized it, but Castle had. No wonder he was such a good writer.
She kept her awe to herself. "That's a pretty far leap," she said instead.
He lifted his right shoulder in a half shrug. "Maybe. But the point is I wouldn't leap like that for Nikki Heat. Only for Kate Beckett."
She tried to look away. Really, she did. Eye contact with a man who knew her way better than she had ever given him permission to was disquieting, terrifying, and sort of fantastic. But she couldn't look away. He didn't either.
"So," he prompted gently. "Is this the part where you kick me in the groin for making assumptions about your personal life?"
She couldn't help it; she smiled. "No. This is the part where I gracefully admit defeat and ask you where you're taking me to dinner."