Thanks to Ally for the beta.


Rick is surprised to get a text from Jo a couple days later, asking if he could meet her for coffee after she gets out of school. She doesn't say why, just mentions a place she likes a few blocks from her school. He agrees to meet her, even though he has an uneasy feeling about her reasons.

He waits for her at one of the outside tables, jumping up to meet her when he sees her approaching. She waves, a smile blooming across her face as she reaches him.

"Hi," he tells her, giving her what is probably the most awkward half-hug he has ever experienced. She probably didn't expect it from him, so she tensed, which caused him to second-guess the move.

"Hi, Mr….uh, Rick." She catches herself, and he notices the blush that floods her cheeks when she makes the mistake. He doesn't acknowledge it right away, instead holding the door for her as they walk inside the coffee shop.

He suggests that she get a table while he orders for them. After he gets their orders, he turns to find her, noticing that she has picked a table by the window.

"White chocolate mocha," he announces as he takes the seat across from her, watching carefully as he eyes reluctantly tear away from the busy street outside.

"Thanks...Rick." She says it as an afterthought, almost like she's practicing and getting used to it.

"Good," he laughs. "Usually when people call me Mr. Castle they're about to ask for a favor."

"Well…"

"You don't count, you know," he tries to reassure her, though it comes out wrong, causing her eyes to shoot up to his. "That's not-what I meant is that you're entitled to ask for favors, and you don't have to call me Mr. Castle to do it. I want you to feel like you can ask me favors."

She doesn't answer right away, but he decides to wait her out and watch as her eyes gravitate once more to the world outside the window.

"Something interesting out there?" he asks her finally.

"You ever wonder," she starts, her eyes never leaving the scene that unfolds outside, "at least in the last couple weeks, how we could be living in the same city all these years and never know the other one exists until now?"

He sighs heavily, knowing exactly what she means. "It's a big city, and it's quite possible that our paths never crossed. And had it not been for that copy cat killer case…"

"Mom admitted that she might not have ever told me-about you, that is."

He nods and takes a drink of his latte, the thought having crossed his mind many times since Kate admitted to him that Jo was his daughter. "She told me something similar."

"Aren't you angry with her? Other than the brief shouting match you had outside the apartment the other night, I have yet to see you lose your temper."

"I have my moments, trust me. I just choose them carefully. As for the other night," he begins, remembering his exchange with Kate before he left their apartment the night he met Jo, "you shouldn't have heard that. I-we-don't want you to be stuck in the middle of all the baggage we have to sort through."

"The only problem with that plan is that I'm the great majority of your baggage. I'm going to be in the middle no matter what."

"Jo, I-" he starts, but trails off, not sure how to reassure her that she's not a complication to his life.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, if that's what you were about to do. I was hoping you could help me understand something, though."

"Sure," he says, sitting up straighter at the prospect of helping her in some way. "What can I do?"

"You can-I mean, could you-Mom has never been much of a sharer, especially when it comes to information about my parentage."

That doesn't really surprise him, at least not like it should. Kate has changed so much since the last time he saw her in the airport, and he imagines the last thing she would have wanted would be to encourage more questions about the identity of Jo's father.

"What do you want to know?" Even as he asks, he imagines all the uncomfortable questions and conversations that could come from this. But this is his daughter, and she deserves to hear both sides of the story. He makes a mental note to suggest that Kate share more with Jo, even if it's painful for her to do so.

"Mom said you dated at Stanford. How did you meet?"

Oh. She wants their story. That he can do.

"We actually met the spring before, while we were both there for a campus visit."


The group gathered for the campus tour is almost thirty people, a mixture of prospective students and parents. From what he can tell, he's the only one who's here without someone. His mother is doing a play back in New York, and she couldn't get away, so here he is by himself.

Shortly into their tour, he is almost certain he's walking alongside a girl and her parents who were on the same flight to California. He remembered them-the reserved looking father and the mother and daughter who looked like they could be sisters. He keeps pace with them throughout the tour but doesn't say anything to her-or her parents. Just thinking about it makes him feel like a creeper.

The students separate from their parents after the initial tour, convening for a question and answer session with current students. He sees this as his opportunity, and he quickly finds her in the lecture hall and smiles when he sees that there is an open seat next to her.

"Is this seat taken?"

She turns to face him, and he holds his breath. He'd known she was beautiful, but until now most of his glances had been sideway glances out of fear of her father noticing. Seeing her now though, he's taken aback.

"I don't mind," she said simply, turning back to the Stanford books in front of her. He quickly takes the seat next to her, not wanting to give her a chance to change her mind.

"I'm Rick."

"Kate."

He wants to say something else, but the students come in and start the Q&A. Kate keeps her attention to the front, not giving him the opportunity to make small talk with her. It's only when the session ends and they're making their way to the cafeteria that he can talk to her again.

"You're from New York, aren't you?"

"How do you know that?" she asks him, turning around to face him as he tries to catch up with her.

"We were on the same flight here."

"And that immediately means I'm from New York? Maybe we had a connecting flight from somewhere else." She takes a piece of chocolate out of her bag and pops it in her mouth almost absent-mindedly.

"But that piece of chocolate says otherwise. That's Leonidas chocolate from Madison Avenue. Would you like to revise your story?"

"Are you some kind of stalker or something?"

This girl completely throws him off his game. She makes him nervous and unsure of himself. And that is not Rick Rodgers. Maybe he should just leave her alone.

"No, I'm not. Sorry to bother you." He walks past her, making his way to the cafeteria with the rest of the crowd.

After he gets his meal, he finds a small table and pulls out the book he brought with him for the flight, one he was unfortunately almost done reading.

"I'm sorry," he hears a voice say softly, looking up to see Kate sitting down across from him. "I was really mean earlier."

"Mean? You called me a stalker. I was just trying to be friendly. We're New Yorkers contemplating college in California. These people are a whole different breed."

"Maybe some of us are looking forward to the change," she tells him, smiling at the idea. "You've been out here before?"

"A few times, actually. My mom's an actress. I traveled with her a lot when I was younger, mostly during the summer."

She doesn't ask about his mother, and for that he is grateful. He hates being known as "Martha Rodgers' son," and has even been seriously considering changing his name if he is ever published. He wants to make his own path, not one his mother helped pave.

"So why come out here, if you think people here are so weird?"

"Because I can...and have you seen the women out here? Teenage boy's dream."

"Ah, so it's for purely hormonal reasons. You've restored my confidence in the male gender."

He doesn't miss her sarcasm, or the way her mouth upturns into a smile despite her words. Kate is proving to be easier to talk to than he originally thought after his initial attempt at conversation.

"What is that you're reading?" she asks a moment later, pointing to the almost forgotten book in his hand.

"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," he reads to her, showing her the cover of the book.

"I've heard of that. Isn't it a children's book, though?"

"Yeah, but it's really good."

Kate leans back in her seat, a look of disapproval on her face. "I don't know. How interesting can a book about wizards be?"

"See, I thought that, too," he tells her excitedly, leaning forward in his chair and flipping through the pages. "But it's about so much more than that. He's an orphan, and his aunt and uncle completely mistreat him. And everyone knows more about him than he knows about himself. It's self-discovery at its finest."

"Self-discovery, huh? Well that makes it worth reading right there."

She's killing him with the sarcasm, and he loves it.

"What's your problem with children's literature? I suppose you read much more sophisticated literature."

She reached down into her bag and pulled out a large tome, waving it in front of his face. "I finished reading this-for the second time-on the way here."

"Tolstoy. Nice. Let me guess, you're a Russian Lit major?"

"Nope. Pre-Law, actually."

He nods and pulls a pen out of his bag, opening the cover of his book and jotting something down before handing the book over to her.

"Rick Rodgers, 646-555-4985. Is this you making a move on me?"

"No," he tells her, pushing the book back in her direction. "This is me challenging you. Read the book. I just finished it. And when you're done, give me a call and I'll buy you a coffee instead of saying 'I told you so.'"

"So, you are making a move on me."

"No, I'm loaning you a book, which gives me an excuse to see you again. We do live in the same city, after all."

Kate sits back in her seat again and smirks. "You seem pretty confident that I'll not only read the book, but that I'll call you when I'm done."

"Ah, come on, Kate. You're underestimating me."

"How so?"

"Even if you don't call, we'll both be students here next fall. We're bound to run into each other eventually." He shrugs and leans back, confident that he has her, even if she hasn't admitted it yet. "Or, you could save us the time and trouble and just call when you finish the book."

"I still haven't agreed to read it."

"You will."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because you want to see me again."

"Oh, I do?"

"Yes."

He knows he pushing it, can tell by the flush in her cheeks that he's pushing her, but she hasn't really done anything so far to discourage him. If he's reading her right, she's enjoying it. She's been taking all his comments and throwing them right back at him, and he's loving it, loving how she isn't letting him get away with any of his bullshit.

Their tour leader comes over the intercom and announces that they'll be leaving in a few minutes to meet up with their parents, and they both gather their lunch trays and throw away their trash.

"Are you going back to New York today?" he asks hopefully. Now that he knows her, knows that she's not the stuck up Manhattanite he originally thought she might be, he wants to learn more about her.

"No, we're staying for a couple days," she tells him. "My dad has a friend from law school who lives out here. We're staying with him for a couple days. You're going back?"

He nods, fully aware of how much he doesn't want to go back right away. "Tonight, yeah. My suspension is up, and I can't miss any more days if I want to be here in the fall."

"Your suspension?" she asks as they make their way outside toward the quad.

"Uh," he laughs, realizing too late that he's divulged more information than he'd intended. "I may have been given an 'unscheduled vacation' for strategically placing a cow in the bell tower at school."

She laughs, and he thinks it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. It's at his expense, but he doesn't even care. The girl who reads Tolstoy and scoffs at children's literature is laughing at his antics, and if that makes her laugh, he has a whole library of his exploits to share with her that he's sure she'll find just as amusing.

"How did you get a cow in the city, let alone up to a bell tower?" she finally asks, once she's finished laughing.

"You're asking the wrong questions," he smiles back at her. "I believe the better question-and the one that gave me the chance to come out here for a visit-is how did the cow get down from the bell tower?"

Their conversation is cut off when they reach her parents. He doesn't miss their expressions, the one of immediate disapproval on her father's face, and the look of amusement on her mother's. He knows her father is a lawyer, but he wonders if her mother is as well. It would certainly explain Kate's pre-law major.

She introduces them, and he is the model of a gentleman for her parents, shaking hands and exchanging nice to meet yous until they are interrupted one last time by their tour guide.

"So, Rick, you're flying back today?"

"Yes, sir," he says curtly, not daring to share the same information he had with Kate. "I stayed with a friend of my mom's last night. He's meeting me in about fifteen minutes to take me to the airport."

At that, Kate starts to dig through her bag. She pulls out her book and a pen, jotting something down before she hands it to him. "Here."

"Wh-"

"Just read it. It's kind of self-explanatory, and I know you have a plane to catch."

He does as he's told and opens the front cover to read her words.

Consider this collateral.

Kate Beckett

212-555-0730


A/N: Just for the sake of clarification, Rick was reading HP and the Philosopher's Stone. The US version (HP and the Sorcerer's Stone) wasn't released in the States until September of 1998, so he couldn't be reading that version of it yet.


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