Something is terribly wrong.
Her face is ashen, her eyes rimmed with red; she chews absently on her thumb nail and her cheeks are blotchy and pale. As Kate waits in line and shuffles towards me, it seems almost as though she has shrunk into herself. Gone is the confident and purposeful posture, the easy smile; she holds a stance of utter defeat.
I begin making her chai before she even approaches the counter. I have a feeling it's a tea and comfort type of day.
I hurry myself, letting the tea and spices steep perhaps a little shorter than is usually acceptable and quickly steam the milk. Snagging a chocolate chip cookie from the display and making my way around the counter, I approach quietly with what I hope is a reassuring smile, and move to place the cup in her hands.
She works at her jaw furiously, clenching and releasing in what looks like a teeth jarring manner. A vein on the side of her forehead bulges and pulses; it looks painful and I grab the bottle of Motrin that I keep behind the counter for the occasional migraine I have.
Her eyes flit to mine and dart away again. She looks like a wild animal caught in a trap, not knowing whether to run or roll over and play dead.
"Kate...?" I hush, and her whole body shudders, as though for the first time she's realizing where she is. Her eyes shift to the exit and she swallows, throat bobbing with the force it takes to swallow down her emotion. I watch as she tries to pull herself together, straightening her shoulders and willing herself not to cry.
It seems like she's made her decision then. Run.
She nods, a small gesture of thanks for the tea, and turns to leave, but she only makes it three steps before stalling. Her feet frozen in place, she turns her head towards mine; a look of sheer panic is strewn across her features. She bites down on her lower lip, her eyes wild and searching. Following her gaze, I then see what has her so panicked.
Waiting for a break in traffic stands Rick, whether following her here after a fight, or simply looking for a caffeine fix, I am not sure. I am however sure, that Richard Castle is the very last person Kate wants to see right now.
Her eyes plead with me; a desperate appeal to save her from an encounter that she's not ready to engage in.
It's all I need to spur me into a decision. She's not the touchy-feely, sharing, type but I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she's about to break down, and I'm fairly certain she'd prefer it to be anywhere else than among the crowded coffee shop and its patrons. I'm doubly certain that she doesn't want it to be in front of a certain writer, now hastily crossing the street.
Quickly, I lead her towards my office, a small but private alcove behind the counter. It's not much, just a small desk and an office chair. Supplies are stacked to the ceiling and about ten year's worth of clutter sits atop the small desk. Still, it's quiet and it's private. It'll do.
"You wanna talk about it?" I ask.
She briefly raises her eyes towards mine, and for a fraction of a second, I see deep layers of pain, hurt, confusion. She shakes her head and slumps into the chair.
I wait at the threshold, eventually leaning in to place the pain-killers on the desk.
"No," she finally murmurs, acknowledging the gesture and grasping for the bottle.
"You wanna hang out here and hide from the world for a while?"
He lips start to quiver and her eyes shine with as yet unshed tears. I want to reach out and embrace her, say something to ease her pain. I'm not sure we are at that point yet though, we've only been on a first name basis for a week or so. She blinks rapidly. I smile and squeeze her shoulder.
"Thank you," she breaths out on a sob, and the tears finally spill free upon her cheeks.
I feel my own throat tighten and blink away the beginnings of emotion as it pricks at my eyes.
"Anytime," I reply, handing over a box of tissues from a nearby shelf.
She takes the box gratefully and dabs at her eyes, fresh rivers replacing the old quicker than she can swipe them away.
"What did he..?" I start.
She shakes her head in the negative and I let out a relieved breath that my friend isn't the direct cause at least of this display of sadness.
The store is humming. I can hear the bell above the door ring every few seconds, the clang of metal spoons against milk steamers, a loud guffaw and the shrill wail of a baby crying. I realize that I need to get back out there.
Kate could probably use a little seclusion right now anyway. And it's not like I'm much help, staring in commiseration at her from the doorway. The last thing I want when I'm crying is an audience.
I shoot her a final consolatory smile before gesturing towards the storefront.
"I'll get rid of him," I say. "If you need anything, just holler, okay?"
Her head inclines in a barely perceptible nod and I take it as my cue to leave her in peace. I place the cookie on the desk beside her with a wink.
"Can't hurt," I say as I leave the room.
The store is busy when I re-emerge. There's the late-afternoon throng of businessmen and women getting off of work, grabbing a cup for the commute back to suburbia, and harried mothers and fathers, in between after-school activities, coming in for a quick caffeine fix before continuing on with their chauffeuring duties and homework battles.
Rick waves when he sees me, a small smile and a questioning gaze directed my way. I wonder if he knows Kate is here. Or if he's just appeared in search of a quick fix like everyone else waiting patiently in line. Hurrying over toward him, I direct him to a table and gesture for him to sit, urging him away from the counter. From the woman, who just a scant few feet away, is hiding behind a thin plywood wall, crying her eyes out.
"Sit, I'll get you your coffee."
He raises a skeptical eyebrow but complies without any fuss.
It takes only moments for me to whip him up his cappuccino; a fresh jug of milk has already been steamed by my busy baristas. The afternoon rush has them working in a smooth and efficient tempo. I smile my apologies as I break their rhythm for a moment, poaching a shot of espresso from another customer's drink and quickly getting out of their way.
Returning to the table, I place the coffee on the smooth, granite surface and nudge it towards him.
"So what brings you here this afternoon?" I ask, wondering if he will mention the detective and her current state of mind.
"Hard day," he mumbles. "I needed to get away for a while."
Huh...so it's not just her then...
"Rick," I start.
How am I supposed to tell him to leave? I don't even know if they have discussed the fact that I know Kate. Let alone that we've become fairly close in the short time we've been talking; bonding over books and coffee, our shared love of making fun of all things Castle. Over television and our inability to distinguish fact from fiction when it comes to our favorite couples. The fact that we are both attractive, intelligent women, and yet the fact that our longest lasting relationship is with a soap opera that probably should have been canceled fifteen years ago.
As good a friend as Rick is, I promised Kate I'd get rid of him, and I intend to keep that promise.
He eyes me up and down, the quirk of his eyebrows letting me know that he's onto my somewhat strange behavior.
Usually, if the cafe is as busy as it is now, he waits in his customary chair until the rush dies down and then makes his way over to the counter to brew his own; a good-natured gesture to afford me a well-deserved break. His eyes squint, boring into me, as he tries to figure out my game.
"What's going on, Jess?"
I consider lying and making up a story about it being busy and not having time to talk. Quickly though, I dismiss it, knowing he'll just wait around until I have no more excuses.
Relying on his strong sense of nobility, his ability to be a grown up when it counts, I decide to tell him the truth.
"Kate's in the back. She's shaken up, Rick."
He makes as if he's about to rise and go to her. I grab a hold of his arm and halt his movements. He stills for a moment, starts to speak and then abruptly stops.
"Wait, how did you..? You know Kate? Detective Beckett, Kate?"
Well, that's one question answered. Apparently Kate has been playing coy in regards to our shared somebody. That somebody is now looking to me expectantly, waiting for answers.
"Um, yeah." I grin. "We've been talking for a while now but it was only last week that I realized who she was. Can't tell you how stupid I felt when it finally fell into place."
He smirks at my admission.
"The great Jess Collins let one get by her? Tsk, tsk. You must be losing your touch."
"I'll tell you this much, Rick. She's a keeper. I can see now why you've been following her around for all these months."
"About that, I really should go and see if she's okay. She got some bad news today and rushed out of the precinct in a bit of a state."
"Rick, don't. You should let her be."
"Jess, she... she means too much. I can help her."
"Look, I don't know what this is about Rick, but I do know this. She saw you from across the street and looked like she either wanted to sink into a hole in the floor or maybe just disappear entirely. Whatever it is, she's not ready to talk about it. Leave her be. She'll come to you when she's ready."
"I'm not so sure about that, Jess," he says. "This is all my fault. Her mother..."
"She doesn't blame you."
"How would you know that? How could you know that?"
"I just do. Trust me, Rick. Go home, hug your daughter. And let me take care of her, 'kay?"
"Jess..."
I manhandle him up and off the chair, walk him towards the door before he has any time to argue.
"Go. I got this."
He gives me a skeptical glare, his gaze shifting to my office for a lingering moment. He sighs, acquiescing and shuffling toward the exit.
"She'll come around," I say with a squeeze to his bicep. He nods and grudgingly leaves the store with a last longing glance toward the back.
"Take care of her," he hisses as I shut the door in his face.
I do my best to go about my business and greet each customer with a smile. I make lattes and small talk; make frappuccinos and feign interest in current weather predictions. My attention however is inconsistent and frequently I find my thoughts brought back to the entrance of my office.
It's been almost twenty minutes since Rick left and I'm contemplating leaving the registers to the baristas, going back to check on her. The swell of customers has eased and I wonder if perhaps she is willing to talk about whatever is causing her such pain. On the other hand, it's not really my place. Not yet anyway.
My decision is made for me, when she emerges a few seconds later, all traces of her previous heartache erased. Her makeup is freshly applied and her shoulders are straight and tall. There are some cracks in the facade though; the crinkling of her brow and the tightness in her jawline, the white knuckles gripping the cardboard of her cup, the red rims of her eyes. But the persona of no-nonsense detective with New York's finest, is squarely back in place. There will be no deep and meaningful conversation today.
She walks with purpose towards me and a wry small smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
"Thanks, Jess." she whispers, squeezing my hand for a brief moment. "I just couldn't with him... not right now."
"Anytime, hon. You know that."
I wait, biting my tongue; expectantly hoping for the story, but knowing in my heart that it won't be forthcoming.
"Later, Jess." she says in a soft voice.
I could take it as a farewell. After all, she is currently striding towards the exit and onto the street. But something about her tone implies that she'll be back.
To explain, to share… For an ear willing to listen.
Perhaps, the woman isn't as closed off as she would like the outside world to see. Maybe she's just looking for a friend, for tea and comfort.
She's takes work, Kate Beckett. But she's worth it.
Sorry, sorry, sorry. The plan was to write while I was on vacation and post you all lots and lots of Jess and coffee goodness. Then my little one broke her arm on the first day and the plan became, 'Try to keep the poor girl from crying while every other kid on the cruise ship has fun swimming and playing while she cannot'. Good news is that we are home now, bad news is that my mother in law arrives for her vacation in two days. I have no idea how frequent the updates might be the next few weeks. I'll try though, 'kay?
Thanks to Kellie for the beta. She's awesome.
