Previously: Kate was fired from the NYPD in 2006, after she went to help her five-year-old self deal with Traveling for the first time. Rick began following Ryan and Esposito for research in 2009. Several months into this partnership, Kate (from 2015) visits Esposito, demanding that he, Ryan, or Lanie introduce her to Castle, as he is her favorite author.

Chapter 4

Friday, June 12, 2009 (Rick is 38)

Five thirty on a Friday afternoon was always a bustling time at the Twelfth, as everybody rushed to finish their work so they could leave the precinct at a reasonable time. When all the week's papers were finally packed up, people usually hurried to vacate the building. This week, however, Esposito and Ryan were hanging around waiting for Castle to finish speaking with Captain Montgomery about the latest plans for PR.

The two detectives watched Castle and the captain shake hands. Dismissed, Castle returned to Ryan's desk to retrieve his jacket and sunglasses. As he shrugged it over his shoulders, Espo asked,

"Hey, Castle. Want to get a drink with us tonight?"

Rick looked between the two of them and finished adjusting his sleeves. It wasn't an uncommon invitation; they went out for drinks together all the time, to celebrate a close or commiserate a loss, sometimes just to hang out. The latter had been the case more and more frequently since the party in the Hamptons. But for some reason this time the detectives shifted uncomfortably on their feet and avoided his eyes.

"Is this an intervention?"

Ryan laughed. "No, nothing like that. It's just, we've got this friend…she's a big fan of yours, and she wants to meet you."

Rick was dubious about their motives. "Guys, I'm fine with meeting a fan, but if you're trying to set me up with someone I've never met—"

"Nothing like that," Ryan repeated.

"She insisted on meeting you, though, and if you knew her, you'd know there's no way we can say no. So what do you say?"

"Yeah, sure. Lead the way."

Rick followed them to their car, and automatically climbed into his usual spot in the backseat. He'd readily agreed because he really was always happy to meet a genuine fan, especially a friend of a friend, but also because Alexis was spending the night at a friend's and his mother was out on a date for the night. And he had a feeling, just a creeping premonition, that this friend they were talking about might be Kate.

"So where are we going?" he asked.

"We're going to pick her up from work. She can't drive anymore, and she hates the subway. We drive so she doesn't have to pay cab fare," Esposito explained from the driver's seat.

"And then there's this bar that's halfway between her shop and the precinct where we usually go, if that's okay with you?" added Ryan.

"What's it called?"

"The Rose and the Crayfish."

"Ooh, I love that place. Good atmosphere," Rick enthused. "Good whisky, too. I hardly ever get to go there, though. Gina says…Well." He brushed past whatever it was Gina said and went on to extol the variety of alcohol available only at The Rose while Esposito navigated the Friday evening traffic.

He finally parked the car at the edge of a wide street filled with vendors, shops, and apartments.

"This is it," he said, and led Castle across the street to a shop whose front was made up almost entirely of an iron latticed window. Protruding into the sidewalk above the door hung an antiqued sign that read Beckett and Sons: Used Books, Antique Books, Book Repair, Custom Binding.

A bell jingled above the door when they entered, and Rick knew immediately he was going to like this shop. The narrow entry hall was lined on either side with bookshelves, packed to the ceiling. Further into the dimly lit store, more bookshelves were crammed into every available space, each of them full to bursting. Rick spun around, taking it all in, and saw a hollowed out space in front of the shop window, illuminated by daylight, which was filled with couches, chairs, and tables (and still, every wall was covered with bookshelves).

"How have I never been here?" he wondered aloud.

He turned to catch up to Ryan and Esposito, now fully expecting to see Kate.

Instead, he was faced with a teenager behind the register, who looked to be just a few years older than Alexis. She did seem to be a fan, though, because the pencil in her hand had stilled over the pages of her notebook and her eyes were wide, fixed on him.

"Hey, Caroline," greeted Esposito. "Is your…Oh." He noticed that she was still standing frozen. "Uh, Caroline, this is Rick Castle. Castle, this is Caroline Friedman."

Rick smiled and went to shake her hand. The young girl was quickly recovering, grinning now, and saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Castle. I love your books, we have some here in the shop, could I get you to, no, that's probably not why you're here." Through all of that she continued shaking his hand up and down. Realizing, she dropped it and blushed.

"I'll sign something if you want, I don't mind."

"Thank you!" She leafed through the pages of the spiral-bound notebook and tore out a blank one, then winked. "I'm sure my math teacher won't notice one page missing. Thank you so much."

While Rick wrote a short message on the page, Ryan regained Caroline's attention.

"Is your Aunt Kate here?"

Rick's head whipped up.

"Yeah, I think she's in the office. Mark?" she called to a man with a clipboard in the back corner. "Is Kate in her office?"

"Yes. She just pulled two new cases. She's up there trying to figure out how she can do both at the same time. Do you want me to get her?"

"No, I'll go. She's going to be so excited to meet you, Mr. Castle. You guys just wait here, okay?" Without waiting for an answer from the detectives and writer, she ran up the wrought iron spiral staircase behind the sales counter and disappeared from sight.

"Hey, Mark," said Ryan.

"Hello, detectives, Mr. Castle." The dark skinned man waved over his shoulder, but didn't approach them. "I would stop doing this inventory, but Kate has told me that if I don't finish by the end of the day she will make me do all the inventory in the store next week, and she will finish the book repairs herself." He went back to scribbling on his clipboard.

"That's Mark Niang," Ryan told Rick. "He does most of the book repairs and bindings in the workshop upstairs, and he hates doing inventory more than anything."

"Right."

"No, it's true. That's what makes it such a good threat," Mark said without looking up.

Caroline came tromping back down the staircase, shoulders slumped. "Um, Kate's actually…out at the moment. Oh, she's going to be so disappointed she missed meeting you. She's an even bigger fan than me—she's the one who gave me one of your books in the first place."

"Ah, well, another time then. Thanks for letting us know, Caroline. We'll see you around."

With that hurried goodbye, Esposito and Ryan dragged Rick out of the bookstore.

"Guys?"

"It's okay, we'll just meet up with her another time."

"We can still go to The Rose tonight. We'll just invite Beckett along next time."

Confused by the detectives' suddenly erratic behavior, Rick went along with them back to the car, but couldn't resist asking questions. "Is this Kate the same as the one in the pictures on your desks?"

Esposito stopped. "How d'you know her name's Kate?" Then he reconsidered. "You know what? With her, it's better not to ask questions. You still up for the bar?"

Friday, June 19, 2009 (Kate is 30 [from November 2010])

Kate slumped to the floor, nauseated like usual but lightheaded and dizzier than was normal from the ever unexpected Travel. The dark room she was sat in swam before her vision. Her left eye was beginning to swell shut, too, which wasn't helping. And several trails of blood trickled from broken skin on her cheek and forehead.

That idiot, she fumed. Why had her collar run? Why not just give up? He wasn't even a criminal—until the assault just now—so it wasn't like he'd been facing jail time. And Rick. If he hadn't put himself in the way, that slime bag wouldn't have gotten the drop on her and punched her in the face.

Her eyes finally focused through the dim lighting and took in the warm colors of her boyfriend's living room in the first stroke of luck she'd had in a while. They'd only been dating for a few weeks, but she'd spent enough time here, even before they got together, to be comfortable.

She dropped her head against the couch behind her and closed her eyes. Time to get her spinning brain and stomach under control. After a few deep breaths she was able to stand, but another wave of dizziness sent her crashing sideways into a lamp atop the end table. Still clutching the table and back of the couch for balance, Kate could only watch as the lamp shattered across the floor.

Almost immediately the stair light came on, and then Alexis was coming down the stairs dressed in pajamas and clutching a book, teasing, "Dad, are you drunk already? It's not even ten." Then her eyes fell on Kate and she stopped.

"Alexis, I'm so sorry. Let me just—" Kate spun around, searching wildly for something to cover herself with. She reached over the back of the couch for the throw, but another surge of blackness rushed over her vision and she overbalanced. She tumbled over the couch and onto the floor, unable to hold back a small shriek. But at least she now had a blanket.

She remained supine for a moment, allowing the dizziness to pass. By the time she sat up, blanket tangled around herself, Alexis had turned on a few more lights and approached the couch. "Alexis, I think he hit me harder than I thought. Can you help me up?" This was humiliating. You shouldn't have to ask your boyfriend's daughter for this sort of thing.

But Alexis was still frozen, staring at her without any recognition in her eyes.

"Oh, my god," Kate moaned. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Alexis shook her head, but tossed her book onto the coffee table and put a hand behind her shoulder, helping her to sit on the couch.

Great. Just great. Kate's cheeks flamed. This was not the meet-the-family scenario she had envisioned, not with Rick, whose family was his entire world. Not with Rick, whose family she could see becoming her own.

"Okay, um…" Kate searched desperately for what to say, how to explain. "I'm sorry to barge in, I guess. I'm a… friend of your dad's."

Alexis's eyes widened and it was her turn to go red.

"Not like that! Well… That's not why I'm… Uh…"

"You're bleeding!" Alexis suddenly noticed. She appeared to be over her shock at finding an unknown, naked woman in her living room, because she darted to the kitchen and returned with a first aid kit and an ice pack.

She pulled antiseptic and cotton swabs from the box first. "Wait. Did you say a person hit you?"

Kate saw the horror in her eyes, and was struck again by the empathy the young woman held, even for a stranger.

"I'm okay, Alexis. I was chasing down a… person of interest, and he got a few good swings in. I just came here to get patched up, then I'll get out of your hair." Aware of the way the blanket draped across her arms, Kate took the cleansing supplies and began dabbing at her face.

"I can do that?" Alexis offered, but Kate shook her head. She really didn't need any more humiliation piled on top of this mess.

Alexis sat back and considered her. "Why, I mean, Dad's not even here right now. He went out with his 'cop buddies.'"

"I needed first aid."

Alexis looked like she was trying very hard to stay polite, but her curiosity was outweighing her composure. "Where are your clothes?" she finally asked.

Kate stopped, and looked at her. "Alexis, that's not something I can really explain without…sounding like I'm crazy."

"Try me. You did just show up in my living room, unannounced."

Good point. Alexis has always told me the first time we met was interesting. She took a deep breath and began. "Okay. Um, has your dad ever mentioned his imaginary friend from when he was little?"

Alexis nodded. "But he doesn't like to talk about it much. Except a few years ago, when he was…" She hesitated, unwilling to betray her father's trust.

"It's okay, he's told me about that. With the subway?"

Another nod.

"This is kind of one of those sentences you never think you're going to say, but: I'm your dad's imaginary childhood friend."

"Kate?"

"Yes."

"As in, disappearing, through all of space and time, Ms. Katie, Kate?"

"It's not really all of space and time, it's more like I'm drawn to certain times and people, but—"

"You actually exist?"

Kate reached down and pinched the skin of her own forearm. "Looks like."

Alexis looked halfway between laughing and crying. "I have so many questions. Not as many as my dad, I'm sure, but I just. I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time believing all this."

"If you give it a while, I'm sure I'll be going back."

"Back? Like, to the future?"

Kate laughed while bundling up the soiled cotton to throw away. "I usually consider it going back home, but yes, I suppose it is currently in the future." As she set the bottle of antiseptic on the table, she noticed the book Alexis had left there.

"Slaughterhouse-Five?" She wrinkled her nose.

"We're reading it for class. Do you not like it? I thought it was good."

"I read it in school, too. It was always a little too on the nose for me. And ever since…well, the refrain was always a little to resigned, too accepting of fate for me. Not everything is meant to happen like that."

That evening, Kate and Alexis had their first ever discussion of literature, until Kate Traveled home, leaving Alexis bewildered and exhilarated, so happy to be able to tell her dad that Kate was real, that she would be with them soon, that he'd been right all along.

Monday, August 15, 1977 (Kate is 36 [from 2016], Rick is 6)

When Kate recovered from the immediate effects of Traveling, she looked around to find herself in the basement underneath the stage of the Alvin Theatre. The lights were on, which probably meant rehearsals or a show was going on. She searched around, but the slacks and button down that they usually kept here for her were missing, as was the calendar Rick maintained for her. There were no drawings or stories posted on the far wall, or stacked in the closet.

She'd hoped to see Rick today, but if this was another instance of her being here before him (it could be after, as well, she reminded herself) she needed to either find some clothes and food or a place to hunker down and wait it out.

A door banged open at the other end of the large, empty room and Kate hid herself in the broom closet. She listened carefully, tracking the newcomer's progress down the stairs, then around the room, before they stopped somewhere in the middle. She heard two loud thunks, and smiled. One was almost certainly Rick, sitting heavily to the floor, and the other was probably his backpack, stuffed mostly with books.

She peeked around the edge of the door and saw he was turned away from her, pulling papers and drawing implements from a pocket of his bag. He thought he was alone, and clearly wasn't expecting her. Was today the day they were supposed to meet for the first time?

He had stubby crayons today, and was scribbling furiously across a sheet of paper, humming to himself. Star Wars, she recognized, and grinned. He was still a fan, even in the future—that stupid Boba Fett in their bathroom testified to that. He'd once told her about the first time he ever saw it, how his mother had saved up money so they could see it together. His six year old mind had been blown away by the epic space adventure.

"Who's there?" he suddenly asked, standing up and looking around. Kate realized too late that she had been humming along with him.*

"Hello, young Padawan," Kate said.

"What?"

"I mean, young Jedi apprentice."

"Where are you? Are you a ghost?" Rick was still looking around him, but his eyes hadn't found the closet yet.

"No. I'm in the closet," she said. He turned toward her, so she quickly continued, "But don't come over here!"

"Why not? Why are you hiding?" Oh, he was so trusting in this time. Still so curious, and unafraid of anything.

"I'm hiding because I don't have any clothes. Actually, I was wondering if you would do me a favor. Would you let me borrow some clothes from upstairs?"

"What do you mean?"

Kate sighed. Here she was, already turning him into a criminal. "Well, there's lots of costumes in the costume room, right? Maybe you could get one of those for me, and then I'll give them back when I'm finished."

"I'm not supposed to play in the costume room. They told me to go away yesterday."

"Well then, you'll just have to be stealthy. Sneaky," she added, at his puzzled look. His six year old's vocabulary was still building.

"Like a secret mission?" Suddenly his dejection at being kicked out of wardrobe was gone and his famous Castle enthusiasm was back.

"Exactly like that. So, you bring me some clothes, and then we'll talk, okay?"

He returned less than ten minutes later, carrying possibly the most conspicuous dress Kate had ever seen. Bright pink and covered with frills, the dress had an enormous hoop skirt and puffed out sleeves. It looked like Bo Peep had had an accident with a neon paint factory.

Rick dragged it to the closet and left it in front of the door before retreating to his spot in the middle of the room while Kate put it on.

Normally she would not be picky about the clothes she got when she was Traveling, but really. This was not the outfit she wanted to be wearing when meeting her future husband for the first time.

Resigned to this pink and fluffy fate, Kate stepped out of the closet and met Rick face to face for the first time. He stared up at her, eyes wide and filled with wonder.

"Where did you come from?"

The truth, she reminded herself. He'll believe you. "I'm from the future. Where I'm from, we're friends." He looked impressed, and awed, and slightly confused. Her heart broke for him. "We can be friends, now, too, if you want."

He looked down and was shy for the first time. "Yes, please."

She knelt in front of him. "My name's Kate."

"How do I know you can really time travel?" Ah, maybe not so trusting then.

"If you stick around, you can watch me disappear," she said. She knew she could count on that—Rick had told her that her disappearance had made the biggest impression on him during their first meeting.* "And, because I am from the future, I know that your name is Ricky Rodgers, and your mom is in a play in this very theater right now."

He smiled, shyness turning to eagerness. "We only just got here. Mom says it's a good opportunity, and we might be here awhile. I hope so. We have to move a lot. She got cast in the chorus, but she says it's on Broadway and it's the biggest job she's had in a long time. It's pretty boring right now, though, 'cause they all just sit around a table and read their lines or walk around on stage talking about what they're going to do instead of doing it. But Mom says rehearsals will start next week, and then previews in a few months, and then the show after that. But I have to start school before that. It's August now. School starts in September. I have to go to a new school, but I don't want to. I don't know anybody here. Do you?"

Kate knew all of this history, knew what was going to happen: to him, to her, to this play. And it hurt, not being able to tell him any of it, being unable to spare him all that pain. So she said, "Well, I know you. And now you know me."

His smile widened. "When are you going to disappear?"*

"Why, am I keeping you from your," she glanced at his papers beside them on the floor, "drawings?"

Rick shook his head, laughing as though she were silly for suggesting it. "Would you like to color with me?" he offered.

"I would love to."

Rick and Kate each took a sheet of paper and began drawing.

"Can I ask you another favor, Rick?"

"Yes, Miss Katie?"

Kate had to take a moment, because it had been quite a while since she'd heard him call her that. "Next time, can you bring some clothes that are easier to sit in? Maybe some pants? In earth tones?"

"Earth tones?"

"Here, like these." She picked out a few brown, blue, and black crayons.

"You don't like pink?"

She was about to reassure him that no, she loved this dress, when she saw the wicked grin on his face. That little punk, he'd done this on purpose. And they'd only just met.

"I also need a calendar. Do you think you could make one for me? And mark off the days?"

He tilted his head to the side, considering, then pulled a blank sheet of paper from the pile and neatly printed August across the top.

Kate felt her head beginning to buzz, and knew she would be leaving soon.

"Listen, Rick. I have to go now. But you can't…you can't tell anybody that I was here, okay?"

"Why not?"

"It's a secret, time travel is a secret. I can explain more next time."

"Wait, I made this picture for you." He held up the drawing he'd been working on before starting the August calendar.

It was the butterfly. "It's beautiful, Rick." It really was. Given the dearth of crayon colors he had to choose from, the blue and purple swirled wings of the creature were very creative. Kate loved this butterfly. "But I can't take it with me. I'll explain it to you next time. Listen, can you keep it here, in the basement, for me? When I come back we can work on it some more, okay? I'm—I have to go. It was a pleasure meeting you."

She reached out her hand to shake his. Their hands met, and she disappeared.

A/N: You have all been very kind and encouraging. Thank you.

*While this entire story is based on The Time Traveler's Wife, these sentences are pretty directly paraphrased or ripped from the book, so I thought I should give some extra credit. They can be found on pages 33-41 of the 2004 Harcourt edition.