Close Encounters 29
When Castle showed up at the nail salon, he lingered just inside the open doorway. Despite the sharp odor of acetone that overwhelmed his other senses, he could always pick out her voice. He eavesdropped, as only a spy could, while Kate chatted up a captive audience who were putting the finishing touches on her pedicure. She was in one of those padded dentist's chairs, though he supposed they weren't called that, her feet propped up, a sparkling deep purple on her toes.
Despite the captive part, the two young women and the older proprietor were asking his wife questions like they were, if at all possible, as fascinated with Kate's answers as he was.
"Sam was the TA in my undergrad Environmental Studies class," she was saying, her smile as sparkling as her polish. "Oh, God, it's kind of embarrassing. I took every single class he was a teaching assistant for, just to sit in the front row and stare at him." She gave a cute curl of her nose that had the two younger women giggling with her.
"You said conservationists?"
"We study the effect of human populations on the environment, try to limit the damage," she offered. "We're hoping to get enough background for a research grant. And, actually, a friend of ours lives in the area, that woman I was telling you about? She has government connections for us."
"Cartagena is a very beautiful place," the women agreed, all nods and smiles, the reference to Salome seeming to go right over their heads. "Your husband, he loves it here, he brings you here?"
"Oh, yes. He was here about ten years ago, started the work, and then he would bring trips from the university to build on the research. I went on every trip I possibly could. Honestly, Sam couldn't shut up about this place; he told the most amazing stories about the things he'd done and seen. That's where it started - my love for all this." He could just see her gesture towards the nature outside. "Started with him."
Best lies were wrapped in truth, and he liked that truth. He loved that truth, and the far away look in her eyes that was for show, but was also so real.
She roused, gave the women one of her genuine smiles. "I think he feels like this was his one big success. The nature preserve just down the coastline, you know?" There was no nature preserve, but there was a protected area, and she knew her audience. Kate went on blithely. "He got this right. He did his job. And now to come back, and see what's been done, how it's changed and adapted and been made better or worse..."
She was the most amazing when she was being honest. And while the women who worked at this salon might or might not be in league with Salome, no one could doubt that the emotion and passion in Kate was real.
He shifted forward and came through the entryway. "Hey there, beautiful."
She lit up, and though he knew it was for effect, it still worked for him. All that light and adoration. He went through to the pedicure chairs, wandering into territory where he didn't belong, and he did his best to look like a conservationist-based Indiana Jones whom a lovely and eager student had fallen in love with.
"The wilds of the jungle await," he drawled.
She sat up a little straighter, grinning at him like he was the sun itself, and the two women at her feet withdrew their instruments of torture, allowing her to hop down. She was wearing those foam flip flops, and her toes were spread wide, so he took the sexy lace-up sandals from her fingers and then he took her hand.
"You ready?" He should've said her cover name, Colleen, reinforcing it to the owner who was supposed to be passing along their message. If Kate had even given it yet. And no, by the look on her face. She had only introduced things.
He trailed her as she followed the owner to the front desk to pay, enjoying his view of the strength in her calves and the pretty gauze of her skirt. As Kate got out her wallet, leaning a hip against the counter, her skirt swirled a little in the breeze coming in off the street.
The manager was smiling, clearly charmed by Kate, but she handled the transaction with a smoothness of long practice, not missing a beat. "It's a romantic story, how you met and fell in love. How lucky to work out."
"This is kind of our second honeymoon," Castle offered, smiling himself, showing just how charmed he was as well.
"This was our first research trip together. I took all of his trips, even the ones that wouldn't get me class credit." Kate gave him a look, a little played-up frown. "I changed my major just to be in his class, didn't I, babe? And you were dating that girl here the whole time. Even knowing that, I couldn't not go. It was miserable watching them together, but I had to know."
The woman clucked her tongue at him as she waited for the register to ring them up. It was a curiously new computer, and it seemed to be having trouble connecting.
He held up both hands. "You know she meant nothing. Just convenient." He kissed her temple, took a breath of her scent, barely discernible under the strong smell of polish. "You're the one who matters."
Kate huffed and rolled her eyes at the owner. "You hear that? Like convenient makes a woman feel better. But the funny thing is, I liked her. We had a lot in common, and we were friends. That whole time, and we still are now. She's the one who has those government connections for us, for the work here. Lo? Do you know her? She was the one who told me about this place, comes here all the time she said."
Actual spark lit up the woman's eyes, recognition and amusement. "Oh, yes, Lo! I do know. Most times, people come in here and say, oh you know this woman?, and it's smile and nod, pretend. But not this time. She's - what would you say-"
"Unforgettable," Kate supplied, tilting her head. "She really is. It's why we stayed friends despite, you know, winning him out from under her. Literally."
Castle's face turned pink, and he gave her a look; she smiled sweetly. The woman gave a little laugh, finally telling Kate the total - damn, she'd had the works, hadn't she? - and Kate dug in her wallet.
"Thank you, here." Kate handed over the legend credit card. "I'm letting you pay for it, babe." She patted his cheek and flirted with him, and he saw the amusement in her eye, how she loved to make him squirm.
"I'll pay for anything," he said finally, dipping his head and lightly kissing her lips. "You deserve it."
She flushed now as well, and her head came against his shoulder with a light tap, her hands squeezing his biceps. "You're sweet to me."
"Yes, well, babe, I think we're being a little too saccharine for their taste," he said, nodding to the owner who had Kate's receipt ready.
She turned back and gave a little giggle, took the receipt. But she paused before signing it, lifted her bent head. "Actually, if you see her? Our friend Lo." A little impish smile she shot his way. "His ex. Would you tell her we're here. I can't - seem to find her, which is weird. We were such good friends when I was in grad school; I was out here - we were out here - all the time, the best food, the parties... but more than that, she's supposed to be facilitating some meetings for us."
"If I see her, I will tell her. Colleen, right? And Sam Hunt."
Kate's face showed nothing but a wash of gratitude. "Yes, Colleen and Sam Hunt. You remembered. Thank you." She signed her name with a flourish and turned to him, snaking her arm through his. "Come on, babe. I should get out of their hair. They were actually closed for siesta, but they opened up for me-"
"It was not a problem. End of siesta anyway. Always open for you."
They made the right social graces and excused themselves, heading out of the salon, Kate in her bright flimsy flip flops made of not much more than foam, Castle holding her shoes.
She wriggled her toes and glanced up at him, scanned her eyes down the sidewalk. Her demeanor dropped abruptly, and she led him to a bus stop, sank down to pull the foam off her feet. He handed over her shoes and waited.
"Well, what did he say?" she said quickly.
"Ito doesn't think Preacher-man's where it's at. He wants a go at Alfonso. Which is what I'd gathered, but I sent him scurrying back to his assignment. He'd left Preacher at a bar."
"You're kidding," she muttered, shaking her head. She was lacing up one sandal and he watched the intricate work of her fingers.
"Yeah, not kidding. You?"
"You heard me," she said, nodding past him to the salon a few stores away. "She remembered my name. She remembered Lo. But it didn't seem like she knew the underlying meaning."
"No, don't think she did. Just passing information along. Library drop is smashed to bits though-"
"So the salon is all we have left. I don't think she's going to be picking up her mail, do you?"
He shook his head.
Kate took his hand and stood again, her shoes putting her back even with him, deliciously within reach. "We'll have to do some digging of our own, like you said, but it's still on timetable. It can still happen. We've spread our names around, and if she can, she'll contact us."
He was afraid of that, but he nodded and laced his fingers through hers. "You ready for dinner? I'm starving. What looks good-"
"I made reservations, sweetheart." She leaned in and brushed her lips against his, a little touch of her tongue before she departed. "Are you ready?"
He thought maybe not.
He was already well down the road towards eager puppy when they sat down for dinner.
She had asked to be inside the restaurant and not on the sidewalk in the open air, mostly for Castle's sense of security, but also because the tiki torches planted in the sand floor cast a beautiful, wild light across their bodies. She knew she was having fun watching the planes of his face dance with shadow, the gleam of his eyes and lips, so she could imagine it was working for him as well.
She wanted to unlace her shoes and run her toes through the cool sand, but aside from the dropped-food factor, there was also the potential escape to think of. She was always required to think of the escape - at any moment, they might have to run.
She really loved it when they had to run.
The table was hewn of one solid piece of wood, the bench seats rocking a little in the sand. In the small interior of the restaurant, there were only about thirty or so of these tables, and they were widely spaced along the partitions that led to outside seating. Their table was against one semi-wall, Castle's shoulder was to the corner so he could be on duty - as he liked to be. She had been able to sit perpendicular so that their forearms brushed on the table, but still her back was to a wall as well.
He was debating the merits of alcohol with a furrowed brow, but she saw how often he lifted his eyes and scanned the restaurant for possible enemy action.
It made her love him all the more.
"Sweet wine," she told him, touching his menu at the selection. "A rose cordial, basically."
"I know you love that," he murmured. She ran her fingers lightly at the back of his hand, waited for him to gather his thoughts again after she had scattered them. He blinked heavily. "We can order a bottle. Take it home with us."
"Mm." Her lips turned up, though she was trying to be gentle, not as feral as she felt, having him alone on a mission again. "No onions, baby."
"No on-" Castle laughed, the firelight from the torches on his teeth, but he flipped his hand and took hers, squeezing. "No onions. Got it."
She squeezed back but made him let go, brought her hand to her lap to keep this from being about touching. Or at least all about touching. She hadn't dressed in a skirt and platform sandals to not touch, but she wanted them to talk too.
"How about this?" he said, leaning in against her arm to point to the menu. "The swordfish. It's expensive, but we could share."
She scanned the selection, noted the price with an eyebrow, but he kissed her cheek and chuckled softly as if he knew. She was an analyst at heart, wasn't she? The number crunchers would be on his ass for it.
He was still laughing at her.
She nudged his chin away from her and somehow her thumb dipped between his lips. He growled and snapped at the digit, but she was too fast.
"You're kinda ridiculous," she told him, wrinkling her nose. But they had hit eager puppy stage, and his face was tender and playful both, and she really liked that. Like knowing the romance was working on him even as she had to cross her legs under the table.
Contrary to popular opinion, it didn't help her arousal. It only made it worse.
He broke out the puppy dog eyes. "Swordfish. Come on, please. Share it with me."
"Fine," she sighed, as if put upon. "Swordfish it is."
He crowed a little, chest puffed up like his son, and she smiled indulgently and petted his arm.
When the waiter came around with their bottle of rose cordial and decanted it for them, she caught Castle's pleased smirk, the way he was crowding her side of the table and touching. He liked to touch, and while seduction hadn't been her main intention, it romanced him as well.
Sipping from her glass, she watched him tear bread from the basket and offer her a piece. She shook her head, and he shrugged and popped it into his mouth, his hands large and capable, shadowed by the torchlight. When he settled in even closer, she twined her arm through his and softly kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Hey," he said, sounding surprised by the gentleness of her kiss. "By the way, toes are pretty, love. Meant to say that."
"Thank you," she offered, though it hardly mattered at all. She'd chosen randomly, wanting only to get on with it. "You and James have a good talk?"
Castle snorted, slanting his eyes her way. "He's kinda entranced by the whole process, forgets I'm asking him questions. Tries to eat your dad's iPad."
"He's not even one yet, Castle. Give him time."
Her husband's face softened, and he ducked his head, two fingers dragging through bread crumbs on the table. "He'll be a year old next month," he said. "Almost exactly a month. Kinda - crazy, isn't it?"
"Yeah," she said, brought suddenly and immediately into this with him. Just as stunned. "We have a one year old. Oh my God. That's..."
"How exactly did that happen?" he laughed, shaking his head.
"What do you mean, how did it happen?" she snorted. "You were the one who demanded a son."
"Demanded-" he protested. "You were the one who said you wanted normal life with me, you wanted a dog and kids and a house. I got you the dog and then I worked on the rest of it."
Her mouth dropped open. "I - what?" A laugh bubbled up in her throat, almost hysterical. "I didn't want a baby!"
Castle sat up straight.
She groaned. "Castle. I didn't even want a dog. You came home with one."
"But you said - because you said you wanted a dog, you wanted normal life-"
"I just meant," she said helplessly, "oh, Castle. I only meant you. I wanted you."
His jaw was slack.
And then she realized everything they had worked for, everything they had fought and nearly died for, she had nearly died for - the effort of keeping that pregnancy and then keeping the baby alive - she had just invalidated it. She had disclaimed their son by casting doubt on their history.
"No, I-" Kate cupped his face and kissed him hard, trying to make up for that. It couldn't be made up for. "I didn't mean that. I wanted all of that with you, anything you could give me. I do want it. Still in this story with you."
"But you didn't want to have kids?" he said roughly. "You didn't want a baby with me?"
"Oh, God, that's not it." It kind of broke her heart, the way he'd said a baby with me. "I was just - rather indifferent at first. Only at first, but the more you dreamed with me, Castle, then the more that story became my own. Became what I wanted for us. Not just because your childhood was so terrible, but because I lost my mom. I lost her and this way I get to have something of her back - even if it's only in our shared experiences, our both being a mom."
His forehead tilted into hers, a rough noise burred in his chest. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tried to pull him into her, tried to heal the wound she'd inflicted unknowingly.
"I kinda suck at being romantic, don't I?" she mourned.
"No, it's - not your fault I jumped to conclusions about the whole picket fence thing," he murmured. "But at least it - it makes our decision weigh a little easier, not getting pregnant again. My super genetics aren't holding you back if you only wanted to - appease me-"
"No, honey, no, that's not it." She palmed the side of his face and touched her lips to his eyelid, his eyebrow, trying not to be too overt in a crowded restaurant, but it was dark, and intimate, and they were up against the wall. "I wasn't trying to appease you. Do you think I'd ever?"
He gave a rough laugh, Tunisia between them. "No, well. No. That's true. It never occurred to me that you didn't want kids; I thought you had this picture in your head of what you were missing out on - because of your mom, actually, that it was what you'd given up to solve her case. And I wanted you to have it, like you should have... That's stupid."
"Not stupid," she whispered, throat closing up. "It's very sweet. And you can't have him back."
"Have who back?" he mumbled.
"James."
He laughed and tilted his head out of her hands, caught her wrist and kissed her fingertips. "No, wouldn't want to put him back. Might be messy."
She smiled then and tried to gauge the damage, but Castle didn't look damaged, only surprised. Stunned even. His worldview had altered, as had hers. She had always thought the little boy had been his dream, to find a way to reclaim himself and his childhood. But his dream had sprung from something he thought he'd seen in her.
Who knew. Maybe so.
She reached out and combed her fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. "You know I wanted the same for you," she told him quietly. "I wanted you to have back what had been taken from you. With your father. I wanted to give you - normal. So really, we wanted the same things for each other. We were the same in that too."
"It seems kind of unfair to James, neither of us wanting to be parents."
"But I want to be his parent," she insisted. "And I know you do too. I saw your sappy face when he was born, Rick Castle."
That sappy face came back, a crooked lift of his mouth. "Yeah."
"Now it's just a funny story we get to tell. I thought you wanted a baby, you thought I did, so we did it. And look how lucky we are. We got the best baby in the world."
"Mostly your genetics, has to be."
"Love, the whole lab says he's mostly your genetics."
Castle laughed, a response she hadn't been sure she'd ever get from him - not about James's DNA, about everything they'd been through to keep him. She had only wanted to keep him.
"You know," she said trailing her fingers down the inside of his arm. "When I did get pregnant, and I knew, and - well, that whole thing with Bracken's enforcers - all I wanted in that moment was him. James. I wanted him so fiercely, that boy you'd told me all those stories about. And how desperately grateful I was that he was yours, your kid, because he had a chance of surviving that. He might actually make it. And he did."
Castle's head bobbed, his throat working. "Yeah. I - pretty much the only time I was glad he was so super. Seeing him on the monitor, still there after that kick you took."
She nodded, eyes caught on his. She could still remember the burn of her every breath pushing against her cracked ribs. But James had been just fine. "Are we good?"
"More than-" He cut himself off, shook his head. "Kate. It's not even an issue. I'm just surprised. We are always good. You know that, right? Even when you make me so frustrated I want to strangle you, we're good."
"Maybe not good, but yeah, I know, baby." Still, it wasn't fair to him, was it? They were always good and she had carte blanche to hurt him because of it. "You gotta stop letting me get away with this shit, you know. Treat you better-"
"Romance me?" A quirk of his lips.
"Yes. How's it working for you?"
"You should work a little harder."
Her jaw dropped, a stunned laugh popping out of her mouth, but he only kept that sly smirk and sipped his wine.
She narrowed her yes. "Just you wait, super spy. You have no idea what I'm capable of."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Castle would like to have said she was wildly unsuccessful in the whole romance department, especially after that mind-blowing conversation about who had wanted a kid first. But the sad fact of the matter was - if Kate Beckett was in a room with him, looking at him like she adored him and adored their life together, he was romanced.
He wasn't ready to give her the win - he wanted to see what else she had coming - but his heart was weak for her and his body strong, and those were the prime consequences of having this woman. Strong and weak, weak and strong. All the right ways, all the right places.
She nibbled at their swordfish, sharing the plate with him, licking butter from her thumb. He tried to keep his hands to himself, he really did, but when she hummed that throaty sound and asked him if he wanted more, it was entirely impossible not to touch her. If she was giving him what went straight to his heart - attention and tenderness - then he knew he automatically responded with what went straight to hers.
His body close, his hands on her, making her heart pound.
Touch was Kate Beckett's love language, and he had very early on clued in to that. When they had first met face to face (kidnapping her) inside his interrogation room, he had practically fondled her hands cutting her free of those restraints, hadn't he? His body too close, his presence inside her personal space. And not for intimidation.
For seduction. For romance. He had already been half in love with her.
"This is really good," she groaned, and then her cheeks flushed. "And I'm not just saying that so I can moan at you."
"Oh, no?" He smiled. "Too bad. I enjoy the noises you make."
She rolled her eyes. "I was thinking about our honeymoon in Cyprus. You told those women at the salon that this was our second honeymoon, and you know, it kinda feels similar. The villa, the beach, the pool."
"You were drunk," he said fondly, grinning at her.
Kate put her wine glass back down, wrinkling her nose. "I'm not getting drunk on cheap rose cordial."
"Hey, it ain't cheap, baby."
"You know what I mean. Did I eat - holy shit - I think I ate a whole jar of peanut butter. Drunk."
His eyebrows went up, slowly, and he gestured south.
Her eyes widened. "What. I did... not." A squeak in her voice.
"You did. All over, and then sucked it off."
Kate choked. "I don't remember that. Oh, God, I sort of remember that." Her eyes jerked to his lap. "Fuck, Castle, that was crunchy peanut butter."
"It was an interesting experience."
"Didn't it chafe?" Her cheeks were flames.
He was seriously enjoying this. "In the best way, baby."
She snagged her glass and tipped back the last of her wine, pressed her hand to her forehead. "Oh hell. I can't believe... yeah, I can believe. Sadly enough. That's - entirely what you bring out in me."
"A lover of peanut butter?"
"Hey now," she roused, poking her finger - and her glass - at him. "You were the one with the whole jar of chocolate syrup after our wedding."
"Which wedding?"
"The reception - and the only one with chocolate syrup. Bed and breakfast, remember? You packed sheets from home just so you could play."
"Peanut butter and chocolate are a really enticing combination-" he offered.
She laughed, cheeks flushing again. She put the glass down and twined her arm through his, leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "Baby, enticing as it is..."
"I hear a no in there for some reason."
"Not a no." She patted his back and lifted up as the waiter came around with a platter of steamed vegetables, offering to refill their plates. She nodded, turned back to Castle with a little grin. "Not a no, just a not right now. I think Colombia has native offerings, don't you? Save the peanut butter-" She paused a beat, gave him a wicked look. "For Florence, like we did in Rome."
He sat back to allow the waiter to layer vegetables and brown rice over the plate, and he skimmed two fingers under Kate's skirt, flirting high on her thigh. Since she was teasing him with words - his job usually - he would tease with touch while they had company. Her eyes never left his.
The waiter left them to the relative isolation of their table, and Castle inclined his head towards her. "Colombia is known for coffee, love. I'm sure we can think of something interesting."
Her lips parted, all teasing gone, her face yearning, that look in her eyes that he saw in bed when she begged please. He wouldn't deny her, not when his own body clamored for her.
Castle leaned in, lightly tracing that place at her thigh, and then he touched his mouth to her neck, just below her jaw, almost at her ear.
Kate shivered and let out a little noise, her head tilting into him, seeking his kiss.
And then the whole room shook, china and glasses crashing, the tremble more than their bodies - the whole restaurant had felt it.
Immediately came the sound that only confirmed what they both had felt-
Explosion.
He was already on his feet when a shriek came from the distance, a scream closer at hand. Sirens wailed and there was a wash of red as the fire department and police raced past, heading in a direction they both knew.
Kate was at his side; her hand clawed his arm. "The salon. Castle. The salon. Acetone and-"
"Fuck."