Kate had made her way to Rick's loft in record time. It was nearing midnight and the streets had been clear. She had left her window down, let the cool air blast her face, and sung loudly to the carols playing on the radio. She'd earned herself an odd look from a cabby she'd pulled up next to at a stop light. She'd stuck out her tongue as the light turned green and loudly continued singing, laughing inwardly at the obvious change the writer had unknowingly bestowed upon her.
Now that she had arrived though, a blessedly free parking space right in front of the building, nerves had crept up to taunt her. She turned off the ignition and tried the calming, deep breaths her therapist had taught her.
In... and out, Kate. In... and out.
She had been sitting in the car for a good ten minutes, silently giving herself a pep talk, mentally going over all the reasons why and why not starting something more with Castle would be a good thing and not a mistake of epic proportions. It was beginning to get cold in the confines of the serviceable, although slightly veteran Crown Vic.
A tap at the window startled her out of her reverie.
"Jeez, Sam! You scared the hell out of me. What's up?'
"I was about to ask you the same thing, Miss Beckett." Sam chuckled. "Far be it for me to tell you what to do with your Christmas Eve but I'm sure that a warm apartment and the company of a certain writer who lives upstairs would be far superior to the confines of this charming mobile. Also? It's bloody freezing out here and and if you insist on sitting out here for the rest of the night, let me know, okay? I have a hot chocolate with my name written all over it back at the desk."
Kate laughed, "I'm sorry, you're right. How did you get stuck with Christmas Eve anyway? I'd think that young guy, what his name? Matt? Anyway, I figured he would be the one stuck with door duty on Christmas Eve." She gathered her purse and keys as Sam opened the car door for her.
"You win some, you lose some," he replied, guiding her around a patch of ice and towards the bronze doors that led to the lobby of Rick's apartment. "Some story about a great aunt and last holidays before she dies. Personally I think it has more to do with that new little chickadee who keeps sniffing about around here, while he's supposed to be working." he supplied with a wink as he opened the heavy door for her.
"You want to me to call on up to Mr. Castle? Give him a heads up that you're on your way?" he asked as she pressed the elevator button.
"No Sam, that's fine. I need to do this myself." She smiled gratefully to the kindly, old man. She grown to have quite a rapport with him in the four years that she'd been coming to the Castle abode. At first he'd been wary of her. Probably mistaking her for one of the fan-girls or gold-diggers Castle had once been known to frequent. But as she'd continued coming, he'd slowly changed his attitude from one of barely concealed mistrust to quiet cheerleader.
Sam smiled knowingly. He had not failed to notice how the man who had once never deigned to leave the apartment before 11pm, now was out and about early in the morning, with a spring in his step and a light in his eyes which, years earlier, had been absent. Despite what the tabloids would have you believe about the playboy lifestyle, Richard Castle had never brought those things around his home. It was his genuine, and shining, love and respect for his daughter that had brought the writer to the old man's attention. He had made it his personal duty to assist the man whenever he could. If that meant pointedly ignoring a beautiful woman staring into the lobby or making a call about suspicious activity to the police, who was to judge him?
"Good luck," he wished.
"Thanks," Kate replied as the elevators closed to the tune of Sam whistling "Merry Christmas, Darling".
I get it Mom.
Back off would ya?
Okay, I lied. This is the penultimate chapter. Sam came to me and I dunno, it struck me that we never get to see Kate entering the loft. It's New York, it's a high cost apartment he lives in. There should be a doorman or security or ..something. Not that I mind Beckett showing up to the Castle door. If only it would happen more often. Never fear though. Chapter eight is written and I'm giving it a quick once-over now. It will be up tonight.
