Company - Chapter 10

Thank you all! I hope you enjoy this chapter.

He wants to ask.

As they lie side by side, allowing the sweat on their bodies to cool, as they throw on clothing and work side by side to make a late dinner, as they eat at the table by the tall windows. She can tell the question is on the tip of his tongue. Now that they've talked about why he was in Boston the weekend they met, she just knows that his curiosity over why she had been there - the real reason, not the half-truth she'd told him back then - has been reignited.

Her foot connects with his under the table, taking the fabric of his pajama pants with it as she drags her toes up his leg. He coughs, reaching for his wine, hopefully clearing his airway before he chokes on a piece of grilled chicken.

"Ask, Rick," she insists once he's no longer drinking, spearing a piece of lettuce and taking a bite. "I don't mind."

He hesitates. "I wasn't… but you said you don't like-"

"You're not asking very loudly," Kate says, pointing her fork in his direction. "And it's only fair, right? I got personal earlier, now it's your turn."

He leers. "I like to think we both got pretty personal earlier, Kate. And enjoyed it immensely."

Kate barks a laugh, covering her mouth with a hand. "What a line, Castle. What a line."

Rick gives a shrug, trying and failing to look in any way innocent. Not that she thinks that was his goal, putting her at ease is more likely, and she has to say it worked.

She nudges him with her foot. "Go on, Rick. What do you want to know?"

"You said you were in Boston on business," he starts, looking up at her to make sure she's not going to stop him after all.

"And you said it sounded like an excuse, almost enough to seem believable but not quite," she reminds him, chuckling at the smile that works its way across his face. Her foot slides down his leg, curling at his ankle instead of returning to her side of the table.

Rick nudges back, sips his wine. "So I was right."

She nods. "Sort of. Half-right, anyway. It was… well it wasn't NYPD related."

"So what was it, if you weren't there for the NYPD?" he asks, looking intrigued. He always looks intrigued when she tells him things like this.

Lowering her fork, Kate reaches for her wine. Talking about herself has never been her favorite thing to do, especially when it involves dragging up humiliating moments, but he looks so interested, she'll go on.

"I was going to meet an ex," she admits. "That was the business."

He sits up straighter, questions springing to his lips. He doesn't ask, though, just gives her the opportunity to gather her thoughts, consider her words.

"Not like you're thinking," Kate adds, knowing it sounds like she had been in the city to have sex with one man and settled for another. "He'd… we met on a case, were together for about six months, and then he took a job in Boston and expected me to go with him."

Rick nods. "Obviously you didn't, because you're here. Or did you? Was that why?"

She shakes her head. "No. No, I didn't go with him. I couldn't. He tried to convince me by saying I could've joined BPD, but being a cop here… it's important to me." She presses her lips together, putting a stop to that train of thought before she gets started. That's a story for another day. "Anyway, about a month after he left, I collected all of the things that he'd left around my place and tried to get them back to him. Shipping would have been insane to send them because of how large and heavy the box ended up being, so I offered to bring them to him on one of my days off. It was… I don't really know why I did that, because in the end shipping would've been cheaper than the round trip train ticket and a hotel room I didn't even use."

Rick's chest puffs at the reminder that she hadn't used her room because she'd spent the night in his. Her lips twist in amusement; in that respect it had worked out.

"What happened?" he asks once his ego can fit through the door again.

She exhales, shaking her head at herself, her naiveté, the part of her that had actually wondered if there might have been a chance for that relationship. "Will stood me up. I sat in the coffee shop where we'd agreed to meet for over an hour before he remembered to text me to say he'd been called away on a case and wouldn't be coming."

"Wow. I think that would be grounds to throw his stuff in the garbage. Or fling it off a balcony."

She snorts, appreciating that he's not dwelling on how mortifying it was to be her at that time. "Believe me, I considered it. I left it at the coffee shop, told them they could donate it or keep it until he came in to retrieve it, whichever they preferred. And then I went back to the hotel empty-handed and quite literally bumped into you."

Rick nods, lifting his wine glass. "And the rest, as they say, is history."

Kate hums, lifting her glass too, tapping it against his. "So not altogether a terrible weekend, I suppose."

He grins, sipping his wine. "I agree. So did Will," he checks with her to make sure he's getting it right. "Did Will get the box of his things back?"

Kate shrugs. "I never heard from him after that, so I have no idea what ended up happening to it. I didn't lose any sleep over it, though."

Her boyfriend nods, his face oddly proud. "Good. He wasn't worth another minute of your time."

"Thanks, Rick," she says, picking up her fork again. "So is your curiosity settled?"

"For now." He does the same, offering her a bite of what's left of his chicken. Kate gives her head a little shake, pointing to the rest of her salad. "But there's time for me to learn everything else I want to know about you."

It's comforting to hear that, odd as it sounds.

"And in the meantime," Rick continues, licking his lips. "I think we should indulge our-"

"-your," she drawls, not sure where he's going with this, but knowing it's probably an idea that's uniquely Castle, whatever it is.

"-fine, my inner sweet tooth with a scoop or five of ice cream in bed." He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "What do you say, Kate?"

She knows she's smiling. "I say we're going to be changing the sheets before we go to bed tonight, but sure. Pick a flavor, Rick."

Her boyfriend slides from the chair, scooting around the table to smack a kiss on her mouth before he gathers their dishes.

"A flavor?" he asks, coming back for a second kiss, then another one for good measure. Kate leans into him, chasing his mouth when he pulls away. "Why pick just one? Come look in the freezer, we have a selection that rivals the grocery store. Feel free to pick half a dozen."

"Somehow I knew you'd say that." Slipping her arm around his waist, Kate wiggles her fingers beneath the waistband of his pj pants, seeking his bare skin. He jumps, but grins against her mouth, nips at her lip in response.

"Like a Boy Scout, I like to be prepared for any situation. Some days require cookie dough or Rocky Road, while others just need vanilla. It's best to keep a little of everything in stock."

Kate snickers. "You were never a scout, were you?"

He shakes his head. "Not even for a day."

They share a grin, both trying very hard not to dissolve into a fit of laughter. It still amazes her how easy it is to be silly with him, how readily he pulls that out of her when her instinct for so long has been to be serious.

"Well, as long as you've got chocolate sauce to take into your room, I'm fine with anything," she murmurs, removing her hand from his backside and sliding off the chair, taking the dishes into the kitchen for him. "Though, the ice cream will be good, too."