A/N - Hello Readers!

I'm very happy you're here. How's everyone liking season 7's story line? ;-)

I haven't shouted out to Courtship's phenomenal reviewers in a while so here goes. Chapter 10 reviewers:

concreteangel16, theputz913, southerngirl1, hfce, kwarner, TORONTOSUN, Steve0618, MaineCastle, cate78, Garrae, Manxkid, lkwill39, Chkgun93, Mydaughtersmom, Castlelover777

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~GeekMom


The Courtship of Katherine Beckett

Chapter 11

Expectations

Detective Kate Beckett finished the last of her paperwork on the O'Donnelly double-homicide; a particularly brutal blood bath. She checked her email, and then shut off her computer. The home-invasion had been a tough one; very emotionally draining. She stretched and smiled and then put the images neatly into a box in her mind. Kate had had a lot of experience with compartmentalizing. She would store all of her emotions and reactions in various psychological boxes. Kate didn't do that anymore, not since Castle got in there and messed up her system. His cleverly disguised organized chaos blew through her mind and saved her from capitulating to a lifetime of mental order. The problem with packaging up all of your bubble-wrapped emotions in carefully labeled cartons is that you also have to box up your heart: they're a matched set. Castle tore through her assortment of portmanteau, trunks, and cardboard file boxes; opening things she kept locked for years. He boldly emancipated and then eradicated the demons to save her heart.

She was scheduled three days off; unheard of but completely welcome. Beckett the tenacious detective would have never admitted that, but Kate, the girlfriend was looking forward to some alone time with her boyfriend. Castle had been remarkably inspired to write over the past month or so and had been spending a minimum amount of time at the precinct. She missed him. She missed his boundless and whimsical, ridiculous theories and the whispered incendiary banter and endless cups of vanilla tinged caffeinated warmth, but mostly she missed his presence; the reassuring back-up she'd come to expect especially during cases like the one they just closed. Not having him there was like having the blankets stripped off of you on a chilly gray winter morning; it left you uncovered and exposed, quaking with the want of the all-encompassing warmth.

Beckett finished a few housekeeping items and tidied her desk, running a reverent finger down the tusk of the bull of her mother's elephant family. Her partners, along with the rest of their shift had long since left for home, family or other pursuits.

Although Castle had asked for some time to finish the writing he had been working on all month, he had refused to show it to her, was secretive about it, saying it was still too raw, whatever that meant, but she respected his wishes and hadn't asked again. It was unusual though, he normally would ask her opinion about certain passages or phrasing or procedure, but not this month.

It was almost as if he was hiding it from her.

Kate smiled; maybe he was writing smut or porn; a plain-brown-wrapped-magazine short-story, an 'article' for those who only purchased the magazines for the 'articles'. Something that he was afraid she wouldn't accept or maybe it was a romance bra-buster under a pseudonym. Even without seeing Castle daily, she had grown to embrace his habit of spinning incredulous stories. A bra-buster: really? Maybe his pen name would be something far removed from Castle. She scowled as she struggled to come up with anything on a par with Castle's wit. Shaking her head she said to herself, "He's way outta my league when it comes to making up evocative salty names." Kate smiled again. "Names, comments, sex scenes."

There was a rumbling low in her gut that had nothing to do with hunger, well; it had nothing to do with hunger for food. Her alter ego's name, Nikki Heat, still sounded like a stripper name to her. She remembered the event at the bookstore where Martha let the character's name slip. She had shown up in a short, hot pink dress during a reading of Storm Fall, just to torment him and it worked…for a while.

"What kind of a name is 'Nikki Heat'?"

"A cop name."

"It's a stripper name."

"Well, I told you she was kind of slutty."

"Change it, Castle."

"Wha- hang on a second. Think of the titles. Summer Heat. Heat Wave. In Heat."

"Change the name."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Change it."

"No."

"Castle?"

"I'm sorry. "

"I'm not speaking about this..."

"I have artistic integrity, Beckett."

"Artistic integrity? Change the name, Castle. Today."

"If I cave now, what next? What next? What more demands would you demand?"

He had confessed to her only a couple of months prior, after some inspirational Heat/Rook bedroom scene…um…discussions, that when he first brought it up he was only teasing her with the ridiculous name. It was how it was between them then: she would push, he would push back. He would dance and then she would change tempos. He accomplished his goal; it had gotten her upset, but she was so adamant about him changing it that he decided to keep it.

She stood, put on her jacket that no one held for her, and headed out to find warmth she'd wanted to be wrapped up in in the form of her own personal blanket. The blanket's name was Rick. He'd probably have supper waiting for her too. She smiled: win/win.

Kate exited the elevator and made her way across the underground parking of the twelfth precinct. Getting in her Charger, she was struck again by how quiet her world was without him there. Not once that month did she have to deny a request to drive; normally he would have asked daily. If he had been there, he'd be whining about his manhood and her taking pleasure in emasculating him and if she were honest; she would have been highly amused.

Pushing her self-pitying thoughts aside as she navigated the streets of Manhattan, she thought about the next three days. Three days. It was a lifetime away from the precinct. She wondered if he had planned a date. Richard Castle had turned out to be an adventurous and creative suitor. He had taken her to see a sunrise over the ocean followed by a picnic breakfast on the beach, climbing and rappelling through hundred foot trees, horseback riding after an impromptu crash of a wedding and the list went on. The adventure dates had come into existence because one evening she had offhandedly remarked that she wanted to do something that didn't include dinner at a restaurant. His imaginative mind came up with the adventure dates. She had almost come to expect something amazing whenever she had some time off. This time was no different. She practicably buzzed in anticipation.

Turning left off of the elevator, she inhaled deeply…only there was nothing: no pasta sauce, exuding garlic and basil as she imagined it bubbling on the back burner, no chicken and vegetables sizzling in sesame oil and soy sauce, no pot roast making her mouth water. No aromas except the disinfectant and detergent smell from the recently cleaned carpets in the hallway.

She slipped her key in the lock and turned and instead of the soft glow of the many lighting fixtures and fireplace, it was dark. Totally dark, apart from the faint glow of the indicator lights on various appliances in the kitchen. Castle's office was also dark, declared the loft was empty of human inhabitance.

No one was home.

Kate passed through the office into the bedroom, letting her hopes dawdle that he might be waiting for her with a hot bath, already drawn and waiting for her. The bathroom would be fragrant with lavender and rose petals and the glow of candles would flicker their desire for romance.

Nothing.

He was out. All of her expectations and hopes came to a screeching halt like an emergency stop on the Metro. Kate dug her phone out of her pocket and swiped at his icon savagely, irrationally. She took a deep breath and calmed her mind. What was she going to do? Call and ask him why he wasn't waiting to entertain her? Rick couldn't be held responsible for not living up to her expectations: although, he had laid the foundation to encourage this type of behavior from her. His past ventures had proven that she could and should anticipate the extraordinary. He had taken her for romantic walks in the warm spring rain. He held her hands by a fire, sipping warm mulled wine after an afternoon of kicking up the oranges, reds, and maroons of autumn over the hills and gullies in Central Park. She watched as he carefully assembled of all of the blankets in the loft and transformed the living room into a child-like refuge: a citadel for two. Kate could almost imagine his arms around her as she thought of how she had snuggled in between the vee of his legs on the sofa on a coziness induced lazy Sunday morning: after sex but before the crossword.

She sighed.

No, he could not be expected to read her mind, even if he regularly did so, naturally. Kate scrunched up her nose in the mirror as she pinned her hair effortlessly into a twist. She silently chastised herself for taking him for granted. It was not a part of his duties and responsibilities as a boyfriend. Castle took those duties and responsibilities seriously. She could not have done it better or more creatively.

She scowled at herself. When did she become this…this woman? She had always been independent; fully functional and capable of providing her own entertainment. Sure, her entertainment would sometimes consist of crying over a stupid tear-jerking movie, a bottle of red and day-old Chinese food while sitting in her sweats on the floor of her kitchen, but that didn't happen every day. She scowled again and then stuck her tongue out at her reflection.

"I'm not sure what you are doing, but it's adorable." His baritone broke the silent sound barrier encasing her and smashed the self-deprecating regression of her thoughts. He smiled easily, amused and poking fun. He leaned against the door frame.

"I didn't hear you come in," Kate answered, warmth filling her cheeks and her lashes providing laughable concealment.

"Apparently. Why detective, were you making faces at yourself in the mirror?" He tilted his head to the left; amusement still filled his features. Kate loved when he glowed with delight. He was lit from inside when he wore this expression. It was almost as if she could see his aura. His aura was jubilant. The only other emotion she'd seen him radiate was ecstasy…

"Castle…"

"Wait," he said as he stood up straighter; his interest peaked, "is this how you perfected that bad-ass, confess to me, or your life is over, Beckett glower? Did you practice this as a kid? I bet you still practice." He narrowed his eyes. "Have you ever practiced any other faces?" His eyes narrowed but were alight with mischief. "How about that face you make just as you're screaming my name? That one is totally bewitching."

"Castle…"

"Yeah," he dismissed as he shook his head. "That's not the face." He moved into the bathroom behind her, clasped his hands around her middle, and proceeded to try out several faces in the mirror over her shoulder. "This is fun." She rolled her eyes before she turned their glower on him. He answered by exaggeratedly scowling with one eyebrow dramatically cocked and his eyes open wide. "Oh…that's not a fun face. Wait." He spun her around and kissed her before she could create another scowl line on her forehead.

Her face relaxed and she chuckled. "Where were you?"

"When?" He asked and then pointed in the general direction of the front door. "Oh, just now?" She nodded. "I…uh, I had an errand to run. Sorry I wasn't home when you got here." He backed away from her and sat on the closed commode. "Are you really off for three days? I mean off, off, not hey let's make plans and then get called in just before we…off, right?"

Kate squinted as she deciphered his question. "Off-off." She beamed when she watched his reaction of unchecked joy light up his face again. He stood and grabbed her hands again.

"That's so cool." He spun her as if he were dancing with her and then dipped. "What would you like to do?" He asked as he hauled her upright.

"Well…" She backed him into the open door and placed a hand on each side of his head with her palms flat on the door's surface.

He cocked his head, read her expression, and grinned. "Besides me…that's a given."

"We could start with doing you right now." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. She kissed his neck and along his jawline. He checked his watch over her shoulder. She saw him out of the corner of her eye and turned her head in disbelief. Kate pulled back. "Am I keeping you from something?" she asked testily.

"Um, not yet. We…uh…we have reservations, of a sort." He swallowed nervously. "But I could cancel, if need be. If there's something or someone you'd rather be doing." He dipped his chin to his chest and aped a Kewpie doll face.

She chuckled. "Where are we going?"

Slowly, almost with a mesmerizing quality, he let the smile that said 'Hi, You've met me: Lucky you!' creep onto his face. "Seriously?"

Kate felt her heart flutter in her chest. All of the disappointment of unmet expectations and coming home to a dark and lonely apartment evaporated like steam from a shower in a matter of seconds. That one word made her feel giddy and excited as if she were a schoolgirl finally meeting a Tiger Beat crush.

"I have to know how to dress, Castle," she called to him. He had disappeared into the closet.

Suddenly he appeared at her neck again, his wide warm hands wrapping around her hips, sending electric sparks through her body. "Shower," he mumbled against her recently nuzzled skin. "I'll bring something appropriate."

He returned a few moments later while she was still in the shower. She could see him fixing his hair and double-checking his teeth and appearance in the mirror. He had changed into his midnight blue pinstriped suit, and dark red shirt. He opened the door letting steam and heat waft into the bedroom.

Inhaling, Castle stopped at the threshold and glanced at the closed shower. "Mm; cherries. You wanna get dressed in here or should I leave it in the bedroom?"

"Bedroom is fine. What did you pick out?" She asked from the shower, shampoo dripping down her face. "Castle?" He was gone apparently.

She finished in the shower and wrapped up in a heated towel. She was quickly becoming accustomed to the brainchild or some unknown inventor. It was comme il faut and one of her guilty pleasures.

Not knowing the destination made her question her make-up. She tiptoed to the bedroom and found a stunning plum bustier dress she had never seen before. He purchased her another dress. Her five-inch black velvet stiletto heels waited by the end of the bed. Therefore, she surmised, they were going out on the town. Kate smiled to herself.

She finished her hair and make-up, checked one final time in the mirror and purposely walked calmly through his office and out into the living room. He was engrossed on his iPad killing zombies or flinging birds at pigs, and did not look up until her heels clacked on the ceramic tile in the kitchen area of the loft's open floor plan.

He looked up from his game and he huffed out a breath as if it was forcibly pushed from his lungs. "Jeez, Kate," he exclaimed as another exhaled breath left his lungs. "I…I could cancel…" another forced breath.

Kate smiled, closed lips but let her eyes convey how pleased she was at his reaction. "Thanks for the dress. It's beautiful."

"It's got nothing on you. It seriously didn't look that good in the store."

"What store was that?"

"Saks," he said without thinking, "…damn it." He knew she didn't want him to spend money on her. He recanted. "It was Macy's, no; I went out to a borough…to a Wal-Mart."

"You got this Bec and Bridge dress at a Wal-Mart." She raised her eyebrows and screwed up her lips in a remarkable imitation of Lanie when she's pissed at Castle face.

"No, but it screamed 'Beckett' as I was walking by the window."

"Why were you on Fifth Avenue?"

Castle inhaled sharply. "Can you not be a detective for one night?"

Kate tilted her head. "Okay," she said simply. He exhaled again.

He followed her to the door, helped her into her wrap, and extended his arm. "Milady?"


The town car dropped them off at what appeared to be a deserted theatre. There were no lights outside and it didn't appear to be any on the inside, either.

"Castle, are you sure this is the place?" She looked doubtfully at the playbills covering the boarded up windows, the newspapers, and other litter, gathered in the corners of the vestibule.

"I know it doesn't look like much right now, but with a little paint and a scrub brush, she'll be as good as new."

"Did you buy this? Is this an investment property for you?"

He considered her. "Um…yes and no."

She eyed him. This was something she was still conflicted about: he was a millionaire; multi, in fact. He could take an old bar in danger of morphing into franchised hell and buy it, restore it and keep it running without blinking. There were times that she had to decide if she could afford Mallomars in her shopping cart. She usually could; Mallomars were another guilty pleasure. Now here he was, apparently purchasing this rat infested, asbestos ridden; she was sure of it, relic of a theatre.

She raised her eyebrows encouraging him to continue.

"I did buy it and secured the contractors, but it's not mine. I've signed it over to the Martha Rodgers School of Acting. Her students needed a place to rehearse; an actual theatre, I needed my living room: win/win." He opened the door to the lobby. "After you," he said as he held the door. They walked together through a lobby decorated with gilded columns and faded ornate wallpaper. Crystal chandeliers dotted the twenty-foot ceiling every few feet. There was a bar, a coat-check, and restroom doors. Broken furniture littered the lobby carpet, also a faded and ornate relic from a bygone era. Castle gestured and narrated a brief history. "At one time," he continued, "it was even a dinner theatre. Mother would like to see it returned to that, but I have no interest in opening a restaurant." He stood in front of the theatre doors, like an usher. Kate could almost picture a round hat perched atop his head. She smiled at the imaginary image. Castle opened the doors and asked, "What?"

"Nothing, I was just picturing you in an usher's uniform. It's kind of hot."

Castle smiled slyly and leaned in until his lips brushed the shell of her ear. "I know you like dress up, but it'll have to wait. You can be the popcorn maul." He guided her before she could roll her eyes into the darkened theatre holding her left hand in front of his torso in his left and his right on the small of her back. He stopped and cleared his throat and after a moment, he tried again.

"You okay, Castle? Maybe the lights are out in this part. You can show me another time maybe. Should we go to dinner?"

He cleared his throat again, rather loudly. Then sighed, "Damn it. Sorry Kate, this isn't exactly as smooth as I envisioned it. Mother?" He called into the blackness.

The house lights came up. The interior theatre was in little better shape than the lobby except for the platform set up at orchestra, center just above the original theatre seats. The edges of the platform were illuminated by purple and white fairy lights which rose from the floor, woven through potted geometric topiary and latticed privacy screens strewn with greenery. The platform was open on two sides to the stage. In the center was a round table, set for two, a crystal vase of red and pink Camellias adorned the table along with several tea light candles in multiple colored stained glass cups.

Castle held her hand as she ascended the three steps up the platform and held her chair as she sat at the table. He sat next to her and poured champagne. Almost immediately, servers appeared and soon the table was full of delicacies. He loved French cuisine and shared that love tonight.

Castle named the food placed before them. "We begin with Tapenade Noir á la Figue." She loved when he spoke French. He usually kept the ability well hidden. She asked him once. He had confessed to her that his fluent French had not been well received at one of his schools and had been beaten up for being a sissy. Kids could be cruel. She could speak the language as well, but his was more fluent and polished. She favored her Russian. "Coq au vin, followed by Salade Aveyronaise, and finally Mille-feuilles."

"It all sounds wonderful, Castle." Her eyes reflected the sparkle of the twinkling lights. She sipped her champagne.

About half way through their meal, the stage lights came up and Martha took center stage. "Good evening darlings. This evening's entertainment is brought to you by the students and faculty of the Martha Rodgers School of Acting. Tonight's production 'Allusion' is a play in two acts: a comedy of love and romance. Please enjoy tonight's presentation." She flounced off stage and the performance began. Her students were quite talented and performed with astonishing professionalism. They had an excellent sense of timing and navigated the nuances of the script with ease. Castle watched Kate; her reactions, her attention. She was enraptured. He grinned.

If the theatre had a curtain it would have closed, but Kate still stared expectantly at the stage while applauding. Castle couldn't help thinking how adorable this version of Kate was. She turned to him, her face full of joy. He smiled at her. "I guess you liked it?"

"Oh, Castle, it was fantastic. 'Allusion'? I've never heard of it. Has it been produced anywhere else? It should be on Broadway."

He chuckled. It was a cute play and it had some amusing scenes and a deadly undertone of romance and sexual tension, but it would not be produced any other place. "It wasn't that good, Kate."

"Oh, yes…yes it was. Who wrote it? Do you know? You should recommend the author to Black Pawn."

He crinkled up his eyes followed by his whole face and chortled, followed by out and out laughter. "God…funny." He inhaled and sniffed as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Um…Black Pawn doesn't publish plays," he said solemnly. "Besides, the guy's a hack."

"Oh no Rick, you're wrong, that was wonderful," she gushed and he chuckled again.

Martha made her way to the platform. "Hello my dear Katherine. Well, what did you think?"

"Hello Mother," Rick said with mock indignation at having been left out of his mother's greeting.

"Shhh, Richard, Katherine is telling me all she loved about my protégées."

"It was truly wonderful Martha. Who is the author?"

Martha cast a sidelong glance at her son. "He didn't tell you?"

"Mother," Rick warned.

Martha scoffed and then smiled proudly. "Darling," she exclaimed with a flourish in Castle's direction. "Why, he did, of course. It is all he has been working on for the past month…for you. It was an exclusive performance of a piece penned for you."

Kate sat back in her chair, stunned. After an appropriate raised eyebrow and an inappropriate remark or two, Martha air kissed both of their cheeks and bustled off to the dressing rooms, bidding them goodnight in her wake.

Castle took Kate's reaction under consideration. He studied her, but now with a question in his eyes. "Kate? Was tonight…was this okay?"

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I know it was just a dinner and let's face it, the place is a dump."

Oh. "Cas…Rick, this was wonderful. I can't believe you wrote…" Her eyes filled as her voice trailed off. Unable to find it again, she just gestured to the platform, the table, the stage where Martha was peeking around the wing curtain and then back to him.

"Kate?" He had tilted his head and followed her movements. Suddenly he stood and knelt down beside her in one fluid motion. He reached up and brushed the tears off of her cheeks. "I'm so sorr…"

She placed her finger across his lips. This man had done nothing that required an apology. Sometimes, he was so unsure. She took in a deep breath and steadied herself. When she composed herself she quietly confessed, "I came home tonight expecting some over-the-top romantic gesture or a date to Cancun or some equally exotic place." She watched his face fall; it was like watching the air slowly released from a balloon. Kate placed her hands on either side of his jaw and lifted his face back to hers. "I became so ensconced in what I expected from you…"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably as if he was waiting for the 'but'. "But…" She replaced the inhibiting finger. His lips were soft and warm; so distracting that she let her gaze fall to them, but she brought her eyes back to his.

"I forgot that you exceed all my expectations. You have nothing to apologize for. Oh my god, Rick; my favorite author wrote me a witty, tender and charming play and then had it performed at a private dinner theatre." She exhaled, overwhelmed. "How could this not be okay?" She pushed him back so she could stand and then hauled him to his feet. She laced her arms around his neck. "You are probably the smartest idiot I know."

He smirked and said, "Thank you?" His arms circled her waist, taking the opportunity to crush her to him and get in a surreptitious squeeze of her ass. He kissed her and kept kissing her as he lifted her off of the platform. He spun around before setting her back down. "You know, it wasn't a date to…where did you say?...Cancun?"

She shook her head. "You big dummy, don't you see? Everything you've ever planned for us has already exceeded my wildest expectations, including Cancun, and you always will."