A/N: THIS SEMESTER IS EATING MY LIFE. WAAAHHH. But, okay, I totally think I can still finish this on time. There are three more chapters, only one of which is unwritten, so if I bust my butt this week... I got this. YES. Don't mind me, just giving myself a pep talk.
But in other news, can we talk about how excited I am for the season 4 premiere? Because OH MY GOD.


Chapter 8 - Seat Next To You

Baby, I want you to take me
Wherever you're goin' to.
Baby, say that you'll save me
The seat next to you.

"I'm going for a run."

Rick looked up from his laptop, confused. Kate had been lounging comfortably in the armchair in his office, reading a book as he worked, but was now standing up and heading for the door. He'd been completely engrossed in his writing and was sure, he hoped, that he hadn't heard her properly.

"Sorry, what?"

She paused in the doorway, and turned back to face him. "I'm going for a run," she repeated.

He raised his eyebrows. "No you're not."

She arched one of her eyebrows in response. "Watch me," she said curtly, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

In a flash, he was out of his chair and following her swiftly through the kitchen. "You can't be serious," he said in disbelief.

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?"

"But—but—" he spluttered, following her upstairs, "You're injured!"

"I don't need my arms to run," she answered evenly, as if she'd been expecting him to use that argument. "And the doctors say I'm healing fine."

"You can still tweak your collarbone while you're running."

"If it hurts, I'll walk. Now," she said, stepping inside her room, "pardon my closing the door in your face, but I need to change. And you're being annoying. Two birds with one stone." And she shut the door in his face.

He groaned and allowed his head to fall forward, hitting the door with what he hoped was a loud enough thunk to make her feel bad. "Beckett," he whined.

"Castle," she faux whined back to him, slightly muffled.

"I don't like that you're doing this."

"Ya know, I figured that one out already."

He groaned again. "Look, I'm expressing genuine concern here, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't respond with pure snark."

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "I know you are, and I appreciate it, but what I would really appreciate is being able to change my clothes without arguing with you about this."

So he fell silent and leaned backwards against the wall across from her room, arms crossed across his chest, waiting for her to emerge, not even close to finished arguing. She opened her door several minutes later, and didn't look remotely surprised to see him still standing there.

"This is a terrible idea," he said, following her back downstairs. "Not only is there the possibility of aggravating the injury you already have, but have you forgotten that you have a sniper out there? A man that tried to kill you, and came very close to succeeding—"

She whirled around to face him. "Do you think I've forgotten?" she asked sharply.

"I just don't know why you want to risk anything!"

"Do you realize I've barely been outside in three weeks?" she asked, her green eyes dark. "The last time I was outside of this apartment was the day I left the hospital. I'm starting to forget what fresh air feels like, and I'm tired of just sitting around every day."

"So crack a window, and go to the gym."

"Do you think this is funny?"

He wanted to yell, but mastered the impulse. "Quite the opposite actually," he said stiffly. "The idea of you running around the city, alone, with a killer after you scares the living shit out of me. What don't you understand about that?"

Her gaze softened. "I do understand," she said quietly. "It scares me too, which is why I have to do it. I have to get back out there. I can't let him win."

Rick chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, still unconvinced.

Kate took a step closer to him, and laid a hand on his arm. "There's been no evidence saying that he's still after me. And I can't hide forever."

He sighed, looking into her eyes that were pleading for him to understand, and felt something in him give way. "I'm not going to be able to stop you, am I?"

She chuckled, and shook her head. "Nope. I'm going with or without your approval. But truthfully, I'd like to have it," she added, crinkling her nose shyly. It made his heart feel like it was going to burst with happiness as he realized just how far they'd come when it came to communication. He could certainly get used to this whole honesty thing.

He hesitated, but resigned himself to the fact that he'd just have to deal with her decision. "Okay. But you're taking your phone with you and you're going to call me if anything happens."

She gave him an amused half smile. "Okay."

"I'm serious," he said forcefully. "And I mean anything. If someone looks at you strangely, you call me. If anybody looks suspicious, you call me. If—"

"If I get shot, I call you?" she asked jokingly.

He glared at her. "Not funny. I mean it. If you get one of those weird gut feelings that something's wrong, even if nothing seems wrong, you call me."

"Okay," she said placatingly, picking her phone up from the counter and slipping it into the armband that held her iPod. "If anyone blinks in my direction—"

"Kate," he nearly growled. "I'm serious."

She smiled softly. "I know. But there's no point in worrying yourself to death yet. Wait for my sniper to show his sorry ass, and then I give you full permission to want to lock me up in a tower somewhere, okay?"

He chuckled grudgingly, conceding that she had a point. "Okay. I'll hold you to that."

She shot him an amused look and turned away. "I'm out of shape, so I shouldn't be much more than half an hour."

His eyes traveled down her body, silently disagreeing with the whole out-of-shape thing, and he glanced at the clock to make a note of the time. "Keep in mind that I'll have a heart attack if you are."

She chuckled as she stepped into the hallway. "We can't have you going into cardiac arrest. I'll be timely."

Rick took a deep breath as she closed the door behind her, still deeply uneasy. It's okay, he thought with an amount of confidence he didn't quite feel. She's a big girl, she can take care of herself.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Kate took a deep breath.

And then another one.

You can do this.

She teetered on the balls of her feet just inside the door of the lobby, as if preparing to leap from a diving board. You're being ridiculous, she admonished silently. Just step outside. You were all keen to do it five minutes ago.

And she was. She still was. But her confidence and resolve had weakened exponentially as the elevator descended to the ground floor. In hindsight, she'd made the decision to go out for a run completely on impulse, and the more she thought about it, the more doubt had time to creep in. What if her sniper really was still out there? Could he be waiting right outside the building, biding his time, poised for the moment she'd come outside?

She gave herself a mental shake. No, she was just being ridiculous. And with that thought in her mind, she pushed the glass door open and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

As nervous as she still was, she couldn't help but stop and take a deep, contented breath. There was nothing quite like being outside in the fresh air. Okay, so city air wasn't necessarily the freshest. But as she'd been inside either a hospital or an apartment for the better part of over a month, Kate was more than willing to take what she could get.

She cast measured looks up and down the block. No sign of suspicious activity. She looked again, taking mental note of cars and faces. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Deep breath. Nothing to it but to do it, right? Throwing a final look over her shoulder, she set off at a brisk jog.

It took her a few paces before she realized that she'd have to loosen up a bit if she wanted to enjoy herself at all; running while stiff was a recipe for disaster, and disaster was not something she particularly relished. So she slowly let the tension eke out of her as she fell into the rhythm of her run.

Damn, she'd forgotten how utterly therapeutic running could be. She normally enjoyed exercise with more of a goal than "run X amount of miles." But running was good for clearing her mind and having a comfortable rhythm, both of which were exceedingly welcome.

Rounding a corner, she briefly twisted to see if there were any cars following her. Nothing. She felt herself smiling. Good. This was good. Everything was going to be fine.

On she ran. She relished the sound of her feet pounding the pavement, the pulsing of her blood through her veins, the straining of her leg muscles, the feeling of sweat dripping down her back. It was painful, yes, but the good kind of painful. It made her feel alive.

For the first time in weeks, her mind was blissfully clear. She was aware of her worries and concerns, but they were foggy, buried in a dusty corner of her mind that she only bothered with when she was stationary. Right now, it was just her and her heartbeat, dashing through the city she loved, returning home – well, sort of home – to a man that… hmm. Well, a man that made her happy.

Kate checked the time, and was startled to find that it was nearly time to head back to her pseudo-home to save Rick from impending heart failure. She grinned and shook her head in amusement, and decided to finish her run strong, sprinting the last block back to the apartment. She skidded to a halt and collapsed against the side of the building, lungs searing, but unable to wipe the smile from her face.

She entered the lobby and rode the elevator up, hoping that she wasn't too offensively gross to be in public but not really caring either way; runner's high was a beautiful thing. She was still feeling nice and light when she pushed open the door to the loft.

What she saw (and heard) surprised her; Rick was playing the piano. Not half badly, either. It stunned her at first, but after she rolled it around in her mind for a few seconds, she found that it actually wasn't all that surprising. Cocking her head curiously, she crossed the living room, heading in his direction. She'd nearly reached him before he looked up and saw her, relief palpable in the way he smiled.

"You're late," he said accusingly.

She shrugged her good shoulder. "Apparently I'm more in shape than I thought." She reached the piano and he slid to his right on the bench to make room for her.

"Good run?" he asked as she sat down.

She grinned and tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling. "Amazing run," she sighed. "Never have I appreciated a good workout more."

"Good," he said, eyes twinkling pleasantly. "'Cause you were absolutely right. You should get out there, and you can't let him win." She met his eyes and they shared a smile.

"So what's with this?" she asked, changing the subject and gesturing to the piano. "I didn't even know you played."

He shrugged. "I don't, really."

She arched an eyebrow. "It certainly sounded like playing to me."

"Okay," he chuckled. "I can play, a little bit at least. I don't very often, though."

"Obviously, since this is the first I've seen of it since I've been here."

"I only play when I'm really anxious about something," he said, smiling cheekily at her.

She made a face at him. "Jerk. So, when did you learn?"

"It was never a conscious decision," he said, playing a chord absentmindedly. "My mother's an actress, so when I was a kid I was constantly in the theater and surrounded by music. The piano was just the most accessible instrument. I used to help her rehearse once I got good enough."

Kate sighed, and ran her hand across the glossy keys. "I wish I could play the piano."

"Do you play anything?"

"Strictly strings," she answered. "Violin for a few years in high school, and I know a little bit of guitar."

"You play the guitar?"

"Yep."

"We should jam sometime!" he joked excitedly.

She groaned. "Oh my god, never say that again."

"Okay," he laughed. "So. You were saying you wish you could play piano?"

"Mhm," she said with a nod. "And of course, when I'm staying in an apartment with one, with someone who I assume would teach me, I can only use one arm." She sighed. "Such is life."

Rick paused thoughtfully, playing another chord as he did so. "Hmm. Well," he said slowly, "I could be your right arm."

She looked at him curiously. "How would that work?"

"Well, chords and notes and stuff would be hard to learn with one working hand, but I could teach you a song. You play the left hand's notes, and I play the right. Here," he said, sliding closer to her so that they were now pressed together. Kate's breath hitched; she hadn't thought about this particular consequence of having him as her right arm. "Fur Elise is easy, and each hand works independently from each other."

"You say it's easy, and I say I've never touched a piano before and you're trying to teach my non-dominant hand," she said wryly.

"If you know music, than I promise, it's easy," he said, placing his own left hand on the keys to demonstrate. "Here. These notes are A, E, and A. Pinky, middle finger, thumb. The right hand plays the first few notes," which he played as he spoke, "And when I hit this bottom one here, you play those three. Just roll right up the scale."

She did so, having to twist her body slightly to get her arm at the right angle; this song was not meant to be played by a person that was two bodies wide.

"You can do it a little harder," he said. At her raised eyebrows, he held up his hands defensively. "Hey, you're the one making that dirty!"

She laughed, and played her notes again, using more pressure this time.

"Good!" he said encouragingly. "Now the right hand has some more," he played several more notes, "And again, when I hit the bottom, you start yours, but this time you play E, E, G sharp, which is right over here." He took her hand and placed it on the correct keys.

She attempted to play them. "I didn't know I'd have to be a contortionist," she commented with a chuckle, her elbow sticking up at a funny angle so she could reach the final note.

He laughed. "Yes, it's much more comfortable to play when you don't have another body in the way. But that was good."

"Okay! This is pretty easy," she said with a smile. "What's next?"

He grinned at her enthusiasm, playing his next few notes. "I've got these, and on the high note, you have A, E, A again."

Eyes narrowed as she concentrated on remembering where her original hand placement was, she tentatively played those notes again, smiling in victory when they were correct.

"You're a prodigy."

"False," she laughed, looking up to meet his gaze. She hadn't realized just how close they'd been sitting. She could've counted the flecks of deep indigo in his eyes if she'd wanted to. "Thanks for this," she said softly.

"My pleasure," he said, his tone matching hers. "But we're not done yet."

"No, I mean being willing to sit so close to me when I haven't showered after my run."

He laughed, and she stood up. "I really should go make myself less gross."

"I really don't mind."

"But I do," she said, touching his shoulder and allowing her hand to trail across to his other side as she walked behind him on her way towards the stairs. "Let's finish this later? You can test me to see how much I remember."

"You're on," he said with a grin.

She threw a final saucy look over her shoulder and headed upstairs, the strains of Fur Elise keeping her company.


A/N: Apologies if there really are any piano prodigies out there, because I myself have never played piano. I stole the idea from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1, and got everything from tutorials on YouTube. Heh. :)
I promise faster updates. Like, for serious this time. Pinky swear. And reviews shall keep me motivated as I'm coming down the home stretch!