Kate spent all night trying to figure out what happened to Castle.
She wasn't a drama queen. She wasn't clingy. She was fairly level-headed and sometimes obstinately rational. Where other women got crazy or bitchy, she didn't. Not since her mother's death anyway. It just didn't ever seem important enough in the grand scheme of things. Her mother's death had made a lot of things seem vain.
So she wasn't exactly climbing the walls when Castle walked out. She had that first moment's startled panic, but then her rational, detective's brain kicked in.
He had a trying morning ahead of him tomorrow. He had already told her, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted her and he wanted something real with her. He might not have asked her to marry him, but it looked like that was only because he felt he should leave it up to Kate. Good plan, Castle.
She sometimes had trouble trusting in relationships. She knew that. She knew why too. But this wasn't one of those cases. When he had walked out, it had hurt. And her hurt and confusion had come because his reaction seemed completely out of proportion to her own distress moment's before. She had just told him she wished she could stop feeling so burdened by her mother's death, and he had looked like she'd inflicted a mortal wound.
She was still lost on that one, no matter how she looked at it. Maybe he had some irrational belief that Kate's feelings were predicated on their ability to work a case. But that was stupid. Not that Castle couldn't be stupid. It just seemed ridiculous even for Castle.
She knew Castle would be back, even if it was despite himself. Even if it was in his best interest *not* to be back. He'd still come back. Partners.
That helped a little. Didn't make her suddenly understand what had gone on between them, but it allowed her a measure of breathing room. Enough so that when the morning light woke her at six, she had slept with only minimal nightmares haunting her night.
Just the usual. Which she could handle. Shooting the wrong people. Coonan coming back from his grave to mock her with bloodied words. Her mother's disappointment. All the same. Nothing extra special.
She showered quickly, didn't bother to blow dry her hair. It would get too wavy and be tangled in an hour's time, but she pulled a rubber band from her makeup drawer and snapped it around her wrist for later. Makeup came on slowly; she took extra care. She added a heavy line to her eyelids, letting it slant upwards at the outside. It was her favorite look, added something exotic to her eyes. A grey-green eye shadow combination. Faint hint of blush.
She realized she was taking extra care because of him and sighed, staring herself down in the mirror. She looked composed, but also willing. She accepted it and moved on.
In her closet, she pulled on a dress shirt in pink and grey tones. Grey dress pants. Heels. She pulled the chain out of its box and lifted her mother's ring over her head and let it fall under her shirt. Her father's watch went on next, bulky on her wrist bone. She felt heavy rather than battle-ready, due to her missing gun and badge. Was this what it was like to be a civilian? Still weighed down with tragedies, but without the reassurance of purpose, without the ability to effect justice?
Kate checked her reflection and felt at least put-together, if not completely satisfied. She didn't stop long enough for breakfast, just grabbed toast and her wallet, keys, phone. She locked the door behind her and headed for the subway, finishing off her toast. She was jostled by the early morning commute, but she made her way with limited frustration, secured a spot just before the doors closed, and leaned into the pole as she held on. She kept her wallet tucked against her chest, her phone in its snapped pocket, keys dangling from the key ring looped through one end.
To her left, a crazy woman was muttering to herself with stringy hair and a shopping bag. Kate closed her eyes and put her forehead to the pole, thought better of it, and instead let the sway of the subway car rock her, if somewhat violently, into a trance. She was thinking about Castle. She was remembering the look on his face as he left. She was feeling again the edge of the scrap of paper in her pocket with his note on it in a blocky scrawl. Her shoulders straightened a little, her eyes opened.
By the time she got to the capitol building, the review board had been underway for twenty minutes. Kate hadn't let Castle attend her own interrogation because she'd been afraid of what he might read into it, of how her answers might either hurt him or, alternately, feed his ego. She didn't want him to have to listen to her honest opinion of him. Sadly, the review board was mostly about her, and far, far less about Castle's position as consultant. Which made her especially glad she hadn't let him come in with her; she was glad he'd not witnessed that thorough and humiliating rebuke.
But she was going to Castle's. She made her way to the upper gallery and showed her ID to the guard posted in the hall, then had to show her ID again to the guard outside the gallery doors. She slipped in as quietly as possible and found herself just above Castle's position at witness table, far above his head. A man was sitting next to him, feeding him sheets of paper. Castle was reading from them.
The panel of council members looked thoroughly pissed. She remembered Franklin and picked him out of the faces before her; he was scratching notes to his aide sitting just behind him. The aide passed it on again, and some gopher scurried out of his chair and through the back doors. Franklin stopped to ask another question and Castle leaned in to answer.
"Please refer to the document entered into the record as Deposition 1, page 39."
Kate blinked in surprise and leaned forward on her elbows to see more of him. Just the top of head, the wide length of his shoulders. Before him, a collection of type-written notes. Pages were rustling among the city council members and she lifted her head to watch. They were flipping through a stapled document, scanning the text.
Deposition 1. That's what he had said. Deposition 1.
As she listened, the man beside Rick leaned in and whispered something, Rick nodded, and the man leaned toward the mic.
"Mr. Castle has instructed me, as his advocate, to politely submit to this Review Board, in due deference to the Rules of Procedure, a movement to bring his testimony to a close. Again. Mr. Castle has fulfilled his obligations to the Review Board, as I stated before, by entering into record his lawfully notarized Deposition, which you see covers every question from the published schedule."
Oh. Oh.
Richard Castle had completely blocked the city council by turning in a written report. He had taken control of his testimony away from the people who were trying to get her fired, and he had done it all completely legally. He didn't even need to lie.
That's what he'd been doing last night. Saving her. With words. As always.
She pulled her phone out and texted him, quickly, her heart pounding. She sent it, breathless, waiting for it to go through.
Kate saw him startle, then reach for his phone in his pocket. She knew the moment he read it, because his face broke open into the widest, most beautiful smile, a smile he couldn't stop, and his hands were tight around his phone.
She had texted him:
I love you too.