Previously on A Simple Search
She couldn't help but feel if she were totally honest with herself, that it wasn't really the prospect of Castle annoying her that was the overriding problem; it was more to do with him not annoying her, just like he didn't really annoy her last night. It was the fact he's more considerate than she ever gives him credit for and rather than feeling like she wanted to shoot him being the problem, it was feeling like she wanted to hug him and never let him go, that kept creeping into her mind when she least expected it, making her wonder if this was a good idea, or if it would all blow up in their faces over the coming weeks. Only time would tell she supposed, but she wasn't feeling particularly optimistic.
A/N: Thanks again to everyone who's reading and reviewing. Even though The Keddster deserves a specific mention for being cool, I think you're all brilliant, so thanks again. I just bet you didn't expect 14 to appear so soon right? I know I didn't.
Chapter 14
Castle stands in his kitchen watching water boil in a pan on the stove.
Ordinarily he wouldn't just sit by and idly watch a pan of boiling water, but for some reason he's turned introspective in the last few moments.
He's just realised that it's been a week since Kate had her tangle with the running suspect.
It's Wednesday afternoon. She's been out of commission since a week last Tuesday; it's actually been a week and a day since he brought her home from the hospital. How the heck did that happen?
He's still standing, he can still walk, and there's no sign of an injury on his person, and his ears are both still intact and without even the slightest hint of soreness.
Shouldn't he be waiting for the other shoe to drop?
Shouldn't he be walking on eggshells? Just in case he upset the delicate balance?
Why isn't he so afraid of doing something that sends her running, or limping in this case, that he's sitting quiet as a mouse in a corner, or strapped into a straitjacket at his own request?
He's sure she can't have noticed the time passing. He obviously hasn't been thinking about it or he wouldn't be staring at boiling water, the pasta sitting on the counter nearby, totally forgotten.
He shakes his head and reaches for the fresh pasta shapes and tips them into the bubbling water without a second thought. He needs to keep doing whatever it is that's kept them from imploding over the past week.
No sense in ruining it now with over thinking.
God forbid that Kate realises what's going on, or rather what's not going on, and decides it's time she went back to her apartment.
Her Dad's had been on the phone and said he could be back in a couple of days if need be, and the elevator in her building should be fixed tomorrow. She's gotten fairly adept at using one of her crutches to help her move around in the last day or so, she's even been hopping up the stairs to help Alexis in her room with her homework.
Technically she could go home.
He decides he needs a plan. There are still several weeks of recuperation she should take, so he should try to distract her.
As he moves around the kitchen, almost on autopilot creating the meal he'll share with his favourite women, he tries to formulate a plan by thinking through his options.
She was saying only yesterday that one of the most annoying things about being out of action is not being able to exercise. She's an active person by nature as well as habit. It's very hard for her to just stay in bed all day so she's up with the larks whether she likes it or not.
She's used to running, which she can't do, she's used to doing yoga, which she can't do effectively yet, not to mention the combat training which is totally out of the question.
He really, really needs a plan.
Just as he thinks the thought, it's as is as if an Angle appears out of thin air and provides the answer he couldn't find himself. God bless his daughter.
"Dad, do you think we can go to the Hampton's over a long weekend?" The redheaded teen asked, leaning on the other side of the kitchen counter; totally innocent of the light-bulb moment she's just provided for her father.
"You, my darling daughter, are a genius" He declares and kisses her on the top of her head as a reward.
"Well, I thought we already knew that, I'm sure I've got the novelty mug if you need further proof, but why am I a genius in this specific moment?"
"Because you've just given me an awesome idea; where's Kate?"
"She's taking a bath I think. She asked to borrow some lotion and bubble bath a while ago. Why?"
"We need to convince her to come to the Hampton's with us" He skwints as he draws his eyebrows down in a concentrated frown, hoping his daughter thinks that's even a possibility.
"We'll need a plan, and a good one." His expression immediately changes to one of delight at her declaration.
There is no doubt that this girl is his daughter, but even as he basks in his delight she carries on with purpose, "She's been Ok for the last couple of days, but this morning she wanted to go for a run because she's getting restless when she's awake and up before everyone else"
"We need to use the pool. Paint it as the perfect place to exercise, which it actually is, but we need to promote its perfect placement in such a relaxing and peaceful environment. That's what will swing it for us."
"Your right, I hadn't thought of that. It's the perfect non-impact exercise and it's totally free of irritating gym-bunnies and those guys who swim laps and get really in your face if you accidentally get in their way. She can use it as much as she likes, when she likes. Oh I just had a thought!" Her Dad turned towards her to hear her epiphany, leaving the pot of sauce he'd started stirring, "We can use the library as well, she'll love that!"
Castle thought all these ideas were too good to be true. Surely it couldn't be as simple as he was hoping.
They needed back-up to make sure. He'd need to enlist some outside help to convince her.
He knew just who to call for such a complex and delicate operation.
He did, after all, have a guy for everything; and this time he actually had two who couldn't be more perfect for the job.