Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the characters used in this story.
A/N: Down below
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"So, what am I working with here, Rick? Atkins? South Beach? Paleo? Give me some clue so I can pick us a good dinner option," Beckett teases.
"Somewhere with rum," Castle grumbles in response.
Friday ~6:00 PM
Forty-five minutes later, Castle knocks back his rum as they face each other in a window-side booth of Maho Bay, a new Caribbean seafood restaurant. Even here, a place chosen nearly at random and many blocks away from the precinct or his loft, Castle knows a guy, even if he didn't realize it when they came in. They had just approached the server to request a table when an accented "Ricky!" cut through the restaurant and a rail-thin chef bustled out from the kitchen. Phillipe, a Trinidadian cook from an old favorite dive that Castle used to frequent, has done well and opened his own place at last. And he's delighted to see an old customer, especially since Castle refused any notion of a dinner on the house.
Instead, they've been escorted to the nicest table in the restaurant and are the happy recipients of the gentle service of Phillipe's beautiful wife. After a pleasant welcome, their hostess saw to their needs and floated off to leave them in peace, knowing how to be hospitable without being underfoot.
Beckett replaces her wine glass, enjoying a small sip and not having downed the lot as Castle had disposed of his rum. "Feeling better?" she says with a smile, looking at Castle's empty glass.
"I was feeling great before, Beckett," Castle replies. "Maybe just a little besieged."
"Ooh, nice one, Rick," Beckett laughs, "the besieged Castle. Any other images you'd like to evoke?"
"Depends, Kate," Castle replies to the challenge. "What do you have in store for me?"
"Well," Beckett drawls out, "I was thinking that you've been back in New York for almost a week and we haven't had our talk yet," Beckett says, downshifting from playful to earnest.
"True," Castle agrees. "Are you sure you want to get into that here?"
Craning her neck to look around with exaggerated interest, she looks back to Castle and says "Sure, why not?"
"Witnesses. Cutlery. Lack of seat belts," Castle says with a sly smile.
"Let's see: witnesses are inherently unreliable, and there are few here. There's little that I can do with a knife that I can't do more quickly and effectively with my gun," she says while miming a shooting action, seductively puckering her lips and blowing across the 'barrel' of her extended index finger. "And as for seat belts," she says while placing both of her hands on the table, palms up, "maybe you should hold on tight and enjoy the ride."
"I recall being told that I'd have no idea how much I would enjoy the ride," Castle says with a smirk after taking hold of Beckett's hands, knowing that she can't throw anything at him. "Ouch!" he says as she gives his hands a brutal squeeze instead.
"Baby," she says, releasing the pressure but not his hands. "So, are you up for a chat?"
"Absolutely," Castle replies, "especially if we're starting with pet names. That seems to bode well."
Shaking her head and trying not to laugh at his ridiculousness, Beckett looks down to let her hair obscure her face while she collects her thoughts. Sensing a slight retreat, Castle gives her hands a gentle squeeze and says "Would it be easier if I started?"
In response to Beckett's nod, Castle waits until she's looking up again before he starts to speak. But, just as Beckett starts to look up, their dinner arrives, providing both the distraction of receiving their meals and confirming that everything is to their liking.
"I haven't been particularly shy about my feelings for you," Castle wades in as the owner's wife departs. "I might have some surprises for you during this conversation, but my interest in you isn't one of them. I love you, Kate. I love you."
He's right – this is no surprise. His actions recently, his confession at Montgomery's funeral, the way he's treated her for months, years – they all point to the constancy of his affection for her. Still, hearing it stated so directly, without embellishment and outside a situation of high stress or duress, affects Beckett more than she thought it would.
She reaches out with her left hand, glad that Castle meets her halfway to reestablish the connection they shared before their dinner arrived. Beckett takes a moment to simply bask in the feeling of being here, being loved, when everything looked so bleak only a few weeks ago.
It surprises her, though it really shouldn't, that Castle starts talking again before she can muster any words. "I'm not asking for or expecting a similar response. I think I know you pretty well, Kate," he says, catching her eyes again, "and I suspect that even if voicing those emotions wasn't difficult for you, I'm a little further along this path than you are."
Castle pauses, and Beckett gives him a watery smile and a gentle press of the hand to encourage him to continue. "But I am hoping," he begins slowly and almost shyly, "that you might be in a place where you believe that it could happen."
Beckett's already nodding before he finishes speaking, more affected than she would have expected by his blushing prompt. "I haven't been very shy lately, either, Rick," she starts, thinking back to her departure from the loft on Monday. "I've thought about us a lot lately, and I'm ready for this, ready for us."
Castle, too, takes a moment to pause and enjoy the moment. Then, oddly, he takes a deep breath and releases it. Beckett flashes back to the moment Alexis stood at her door almost a week ago and experiences a feeling of foreboding as she realizes that Castle is fortifying himself to wade into uncomfortable waters.
"But it's not that easy. Not loving you," he says, noticing her look of concern, "Loving you is simple, inevitable. But love doesn't guarantee happiness or protect against pain. In my experience, it's often the opposite."
After a brief pause, Castle continues, looking slightly flushed. "So, here we are already. Surprise number one: if we're going to do this, to try to become more important to each other…"
"To build something 'exquisite and enduring,'" Beckett quotes helpfully.
"Exactly," he nods thankfully, "then I think we need to go slowly."
Beckett's reaction confirms that this is a surprise. After waiting months for her, she would have thought that Castle would be impatient, anxious to cannonball right into the deep end. She knows this isn't a rejection, but she's not sure she understands Castle's reluctance. "Rick, there's no playbook for how we go forward. But can you tell me what you're thinking?"
Castle tightens his grip on her hand while running his free hand through his hair. "I could dress this up, deliver this line with distracting beauty, but what it really comes down to is that I'm scared," he confesses while staring intently at Beckett. "My track record isn't great, and that's without the two big issues we've got to figure out."
Beckett raises her eyebrows and looks at Castle with an open expression. "My mother?" she asks.
"No, not your mom. While she's an important part of our story, I wouldn't want to consider her an 'issue,'" Castle says kindly, before releasing a large sigh. "We'll start small. Issue one is my colossally bad first impression. I've been thinking and thinking about what you said on our walk to the bench, about your reactions to me. As near as I can figure it, it goes back to what an ass I was when we first met. I think I've been overcoming that, glacially, and I'm hoping that pulling my weight in some investigations will help overcome your reticence about me."
"Rick, you don't have to convince me or win me over," Beckett replies. "I know you. Like I said then, it's my reactions that are at issue here. And I think those are changing now, just as a result of us spending more time together, of not investing so much effort in hiding from this," she says with a caress of his hand.
"I hope that's true," Castle agrees, "and I think you're right. I also think that it has more to do with the professional balance in our lives than you suspect. At heart, I think you formed a strong opinion back then of me as the tagalong, nipping at your heels and playing at investigator. But I like investigating and I think I'm getting a little better at it. I think if your confidence in me grows, reactions will adjust."
Beckett takes a moment to think about this, to test Castle's hypothesis. There might be something to it, she thinks, recalling some of her early frustrations about Castle's participation in cases during their time together. But he has become more important to their investigations, and the interest of the FBI is an external comment on his potential as an investigator.
Thinking about the FBI makes Beckett realize that Castle didn't articulate one aspect of his theory. If he really thinks that some of her uncomfortable reactions to him relate to his skills as an investigator, then demonstrating his worth at the precinct could help them move forward. But, under his theory, working for the FBI would also demonstrate that he's not a mere 'tagalong.' She takes his decision not to discuss the FBI option as a sign that if they look past everything else going on, he's still looking to stay with her. It makes her think back to her talk with Dr. Burke weeks ago, about Castle addressing imbalances in his life, about putting in the effort rather than trying to start over.
"I think you might be right, Rick," Beckett responds slowly. "Or, maybe it seems like this might be at least a part of what's going on. I want to think about it a little more, because it makes me uncomfortable."
"Why's that?" Castle responds, a little surprised.
"Because if you're right, it means that I'm waiting for you to prove yourself to me, which makes me look terrible and feel even worse," Beckett confesses. "I'm sorry if that's what's going on, I don't mean for that to be how things work. You don't need to prove yourself to anyone, especially me."
"Hey, I at least share the blame here," Castle replies. "I was in rare form when we met. And, as much fun as I had back then, I dug myself a deep hole. But I don't think it's inescapable, it's just taking a little more time than I would have hoped. As we've discussed before," he says, catching her eye and flashing an impish smile to lighten the tone, "I can be patient when it matters."
"Maybe, but I'm still hoping that just realizing what's going on will help us get past it," Beckett adds. "But now I'm nervous. You said two issues, and that's only one."
"This is the part where I'm happy we ordered fish," Castle jokes weakly, "since it means that there are no steak knives on the table. Let me set the stage, provide some context and rationale, so you'll pause before killing me barehanded?"
After a brief pause to ensure that he knows she's listening and potentially affronted if still curious, Beckett nods.
"For as much as I enjoy women and find them fascinating," Castle starts, "I'm not very good at maintaining relationships with them. You know about the wreckage of my past romantic endeavors. In fact," Castle adds, sounding like he's surprised by what he's saying, "the three-plus years we've spent together rivals the time I've made it with anyone else." No longer surprised, his scrunched face now indicates a disappointed frustration as he thinks about his failed relationships.
"I'm largely responsible for those failures," Castle admits. Beckett starts to object, mostly as a sign of faith in him since she doesn't know the details, but he cuts her off. "Others shoulder responsibility, too, but I'm not blameless. I've got faults, some pretty big ones. But those relationships were also harmed by secrets and lies, by emotional and physical distance. And that's the other thing that worries me about us."
Secrets and lies. Emotional distance. Here we are at last, Beckett thinks. Time to face the decisions she's made in the past and to finally decide what to do about them. Like the night Castle shared his revelations about Bracken, Beckett thinks she's not ready to talk about this, not strong enough to deal with it yet. But this time, she resolves, she's going to get this conversation right the first time, without a walk to the park the next day.
"You're right to be concerned," she starts slowly and softly. "I have lied to you. I have held you off, forced a distance between us. I've even run to others to hide from you. Honestly," she says, thankful beyond words that he's still holding her hand, "I don't know why you're still here, why you've put up with me." Bringing her other hand to join the one that already holds his, she holds on tight and feels tears running down her cheeks. "But I'm so glad you have."
"I was so scared after that night you told us about Bracken," she continues. "I thought I'd finally done it, finally pushed you too far. I went home and tried to imagine my life without you, or my life with you but the way I left things that night. And I couldn't," she confesses. "We've been growing so close for so long, but especially lately, that I'd started to see the possibility of us. And then it was gone."
"Not gone," Castle interrupts while delivering gentle pressure on her hands. "The flame dimmed, might have guttered a little, but it just needed a breath of hope."
"As terrible as this sounds, I'm glad it happened," Beckett continues, forging ahead despite her lack of comfort as he had done earlier. "It made me realize a few things. Like what I risked losing. Or that as much as I've been thinking about us, I hadn't actually let you see that or given you reason to think that we were making any progress. It also made me realize that I've been a fool."
"Hey, easy there," Castle objects. "We're not going to feel bad about ourselves and our past decisions or we'll never feel good."
"But I was being foolish, and I ignored everyone who told me that, including you," Beckett presses on. "You left us with that driver outside the law firm and went home. We rode back to the Haunt in silence and split up the same way. I got home and started really thinking about the end game. Imagine that I found a way to take him down myself, somehow. Then what? I'd have lost you. Lost the boys. Lost my drive, the reason that I became a cop and pushed myself so hard. That's the best case scenario – he goes away and I'm left with no friends and the need to start over yet again?"
"So I tossed and turned, fuming and fearful and frustrated, and finally worked myself around to realizing the truth of one of those trite sayings that you'd expect to find in a moralizing kids book," Beckett continues, frustrated and a little embarrassed. "'It's not just what you do, but how you do it,'" she says in a sing-song voice. "But, it's true. I felt guilty realizing that I wasn't sure that I wanted to win if it would cost me everything. Then I realized that my mom wouldn't want me to win at that cost."
Now, she looks up, already feeling lighter, less burdened. "So now, we do it right. I don't put my life on hold to accomplish one goal at a time. I try to build relationships that help, that give me a reason to win and peace if I can't. And I talk to you, and Dr. Burke, so that when it feels overwhelming or I get hurt, I don't blow the whole thing up or run away," she finishes with a weak chuckle.
In response, Castle simply stares at her, a small grin on his stunned face. After drinking her in for several moments, he opens his mouth to talk but then closes it again. Finally, Beckett gives his hand a little tug and prods "Rick, you missed your cue. Now's the part where you provide some kind of response."
"Poor timing. It's one of the reasons that I'm a writer rather than an actor," he jokes, still smiling. "I'm just basking in the moment here, Beckett. Do you know how many times I tried to write our story in my mind? How many different ways? I don't think I ever included a declaration quite like that one. I thought I was the one with surprises. I mentioned a breath of hope, and you gave me a gale."
"That's a good thing, right?" Beckett replies with a coy look, tempting him back to more discussion.
"It's the best thing," he replies as his smile grows wider. "My own hope has gotten me this far. If you're telling me that we share a hope for the future, we'll be unstoppable."
"Slowly unstoppable," Beckett teases in reply.
Using his free hand to rub his face before he runs it through his hair, Castle grumbles. "No fair. You can't start testing my resolve already. You have to know that the going slow thing is going to kill me. You know that I'd love to dive right in."
"But…?" Beckett prompts.
"But I don't want to burn brightly and briefly with you, Kate. I want exquisite and enduring. I want to do this right, make sure we can handle the bumps that will arise. Too often in the past we've retreated when hurt, or avoided dealing with painful issues, or overreacted, or lied. I'm hoping that we can be better than that, stronger than that," he says.
Adding his free hand to their clasp, he continues with a tone of amusement. "Have you ever sat down and thought about all of the challenges we've overcome, all the times we could've been taken from each other or just walked away? I want us to have our happily ever after. We've earned it."
"I have thought about it," Beckett replies. "I'm glad you sound happy about it, because it usually leaves me feeling depressed."
"But we're here now," Castle says happily and earnestly. "Can't you feel it? We're on the cusp of something great, Katherine Houghton Beckett. Everything we've done has brought us right here, right here to this table, talking about the future, holding hands like teenagers, ignoring the wonderful food that Phillipe made for us."
Beckett flashes him a smile, buoyed by his obvious hope and optimism. "I feel it, Rick. I'm not sure I deserve it and I'm afraid of losing it, but trust me, I feel it too."
"You want to get out of here?" Castle asks. "We're not eating and I feel like moving around. The last time we talked while walking ended pretty well, maybe we can make it one of our things."
"Our things? Are we going to be one of those sickening couples who has a whole set of things that have secret meaning for them?" Beckett scoffs.
"God, I hope so," sighs Castle happily, provoking a smiling chuff from Beckett.
"Let's blow this place, Rick. We'll have to come back sometime and actually try the food, but let's get out of here," Beckett agrees.
"How about this: meet me at the door? I want to go thank Phillipe and make sure he doesn't take our lack of interest in his food personally."
Minutes later they're back on the street and Beckett aims them towards Castle's loft, a long walk ahead of them that they are content to tackle at an ambling pace.
"Okay, Castle, fire away," Beckett prompts as they walk down the avenue.
"Really? Okay: Replicants are real. The Nepalese are trying to domesticate Yeti in order to defend their country. The Soviet Union didn't really fall but is actually playing the long game while awaiting mortgage and student loan crises to decimate the West…" Castle rambles until Beckett smacks his arm.
"That wasn't a general invitation, you goof," she chides with a smile. "Calling it 'surprise number one' clearly indicates that there's at least one more. So, let's hear it. Actually, better tell me how many we're talking about here."
"Just two more, and I think you know the first one, but the second one…" he says with an evil grin as they pause on a corner and wait for the light to change. At her prompting eyebrow, he starts with the lesser surprise. "I was serious about meeting with Burke. It's kind of the natural extension of the what we talked about earlier, making sure we've got a strong foundation. I can even sweeten the deal," he says, casting her a gentle look. "You know, kind of a 'thank you' for the going slow thing."
"If one thing is apparent from our talk today, Rick, it's that you don't need to thank me," Beckett replies with an earnest smile as they start walking again.
"You're still here, still next to me. I say thank you for that every day," he says seriously.
Damn it, she thinks, he's got to stop that. He's just too good with words sometimes. She lets herself drift into his side while they walk, bumping hips and shoulders, knowing that he'll understand that she appreciates his words more than she can say.
"If you're up for it and Burke is on board, I'll do the talking at the first session. Whatever you want to know, whatever he thinks I should talk about, I'll do it," Castle promises.
"Always the center of attention, huh?" Beckett teases, but she drifts into his side again but maintains the pressure a bit longer this time, until it threatens to throw off their strides and make them stumble. There's probably a metaphor in there somewhere, she thinks.
"I do appreciate exactly what you're offering, Rick. As you often do, you might be acting a little too brave for your own good, but I'll take you up on it," she says. "I'll talk to Burke about it this week, see what we can set up."
"Excellent," says Castle. "Deliberate forward movement following direct communication – look at us go," he laughs. "Makes me wonder if we shouldn't cheat with a celebratory ice cream sundae."
"No way, Castle," objects Beckett. "I'm no Eve, leading you into temptation. We're coming up on Whole Foods. You can have celebratory celery or something." This prompts a disgusted look from Castle that would make Esposito proud, prompting an un-Detective like guffaw from Beckett.
"Kate, I'm very much looking forward to you leading me into temptation, but not for something as mundane as ice cream," he says with a leer as they again stop to await a cross-walk signal.
"Ice cream is too staid for you? I guess that means my ice cube trick is off the table," Beckett replies with a wicked gleam in her eye.
Since he's standing next to pole holding up the cross-walk sign and traffic light, Castle takes the opportunity to lightly bang his head against it while slowly intoning "going slow ... going slow" over and over. This, of course, prompts another delighted laugh from Beckett (and odd looks from a nearby gaggle of tourists).
"Sometimes you just can't win," Castle grumbles to himself as he looks up to see if the attentions of his forehead have convinced the light to change.
"That's a good lesson for you to learn as we get started," Beckett says with a chuckle.
After raising his arms up in surrender, Castle lowers his hand to Beckett's back as the light finally changes and allows them to resume their walk.
"Don't worry, Rick," Beckett nudges. "It's the weekend – you've got two whole days to think about how exactly you lost control of this conversation and what you could have done differently."
"Please, Beckett," Castle scoffs in response. "Do I really seem like a guy who dwells on past mistakes? When there are so many new ones to make? Onward!" he declares while raising a hand to point to the horizon like a nineteenth-century pioneer cutting a path to the Pacific. "Besides, there are way too many opportunities to get myself into new trouble this weekend."
"Oh really? What's on tap other than your mysterious 'consultation' tomorrow and our dinner?" asks Beckett. "How much trouble could you get into while writing?"
"If you had any idea what Nikki got up to in some of the scenes that haven't made the books, you definitely wouldn't ask that question," leers Castle. Seeing Beckett's eyebrows skyrocket as she takes a deep breath, Castle decides he might as well go for two-for-one in the reprimand department. "I'm going to brunch on Sunday with Sheila and Kyra."
Beckett's inhalation turns into a cough. Casting him a dubious look, she says "Are you serious or are you just pulling my leg?"
Chuckling, Castle answers. "I'm afraid I'm completely serious. But Black Pawn assured me that at least some of those excerpted scenes didn't get leaked online."
"Castle!"
"Okay, okay, I give. As if I'd ever let Black Pawn see those scenes," he says as if talking to himself. "But I was serious about brunch. Sheila did me a favor and it cost her a VP at her company and some heat from the Board. The least I could do is say thank you."
"I can see that. But what about Kyra? You weren't kidding when you said you could get into trouble," Beckett says in a menacing tone.
"I know, right?" Says Castle, ignoring or failing to recognize Beckett's implied threat. "It's like some bizarre modern-day Shakespearean farce: I call Sheila, Sheila calls Kyra, Kyra calls me, I call Greg. But I think we're all set for a simple brunch free of miscommunications or misinformed expectations," Castle says with hope.
"You called Greg? That must have been an interesting conversation," Beckett says with a chuckle.
"Seemed prudent. And you know me, always thinking ahead and making reasonable preparations," he says while looking over at Beckett. "Oh, come on, that was totally worth an eye roll," he begs, but gets only a head shake and stifled grin instead.
"Yeah, I called him. I wanted to make sure that we're on the same page, that he knew he was invited, and that this started as a brunch between Sheila and I. To be honest, I think he's more than happy to skip a meal with his mother-in-law," Castle says with a chuckle.
"Do you need backup?" Beckett asks seriously, hoping that Castle recognizes exactly what she's offering.
"If you'd like to join us, you are completely welcome. I hadn't thought to ask – a morning brunch with an ex within hours of our first official date seemed like a bad idea," Castle says with a chuckle.
"So tomorrow's 'official'?" Beckett casts a look over at Castle, who's giving her a dreamy, goofy smile while nodding in return. "Then what's tonight?"
"Good fortune. A chance to start without pressure or the weight of a first date. A chance to just be Kate and Rick," he replies earnestly.
"Good answer," she says in response, bumping into him again. "If you think you'll be okay, then I'm going to stick with my own brunch plans with my dad. Are you writing after brunch?"
"Maybe for a bit," Castle says as he reaches for Beckett's elbow, slowing her down as the light ahead of them changes to admit a flow of cross-traffic. "It's a Daddy-Daughter Date Night on Sunday, one that Alexis and I have been looking forward to for a long time."
"Really? What's the occasion?" Beckett asks, charmed by what seems to be a sweet tradition between Castle and Alexis.
"I was so hoping you'd ask," Castle says with a smug smile. "You remember that Alexis had exams before her two weeks away? Her mid-term grades came in this week. No big surprise, she aced everything. So, now it's a lock: my baby girl is valedictorian."
He sounds so pleased, Beckett marvels as she looks over at him. He's teary-eyed, so filled to bursting with pride that it's leaking out of him. Knowing exactly how much this must mean to him, Beckett takes the opportunity to burrow in for a quick celebratory hug. "Rick, that's fantastic. Congratulations, Dad, you raised a genius."
Much like his daughter had done less than a week ago, Castle steps back from a hug with Beckett and wipes tears from his cheek, though he uses a handkerchief and these are tears of joy. Still, he's slightly embarrassed as he ushers them forward again with the changing of the light.
"Now I have two pieces of evidence from tonight that you're serious about us, Rick," Beckett says as they resume their pace. At Castle's incredulous look (which she had willfully baited), she continues. "You've always been so proud of Alexis. You must have been bursting to share this news. But you held back until we had our talk. That's stunning, and a little frightening."
"Her graduation is four weeks away, but our time is now," he replies simply, reaching out to take her hand. She accepts the clasp and returns a little pressure to keep his hand in place.
"And the other piece of evidence?" Castle prompts as they continue their stroll.
"Your uncharacteristic restraint," she says with a laugh. "I totally set you up for a Shawshank line about hope but you passed it up."
"'Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things…,'" Castle quotes from memory. "Okay, so maybe that ran through my mind. But I wanted to use my words for us, not someone else's," he confesses.
"See? Told you I was figuring you out, Rick," Beckett says with a smirk.
"Okay, Detective, if you know me so well, what's surprise number three?" Castle challenges.
Damn, Beckett thinks. It's never good to miss a challenge right after shooting your mouth off, especially with Castle. But how in the world is she supposed to guess at this surprise, the one that had him casting a devious look when he mentioned it at the beginning of their walk?
She's about to give up when her hand pulses three times from short squeezes Castle delivers. It draws her attention to their linked hands.
"Rick," she says, "we're holding hands."
"Yup."
"In public," she continues.
"Yup again."
"So, is that surprise number three? That we're what – not sneaking around?" she guesses.
"Kind of," he admits, taking a few steps while swinging their joined hands to and fro. "The surprise is that we don't need to hide anything if we don't want to. We don't have to do anything we don't want to do. Except maybe when it comes to dodging the press."
"So if not the press, then you're talking about the precinct?" Beckett asks. "You're not worried about Gates or someone else using our relationship to boot you out – are you thinking that the FBI thing gives us leverage?"
"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking. I've done a little research…" Castle begins, but Beckett interrupts.
"Oh, no, more research. Is this like your research on our cases, where you made poor Alexis analyze our closure statistics?" she asks while delivering a gentle elbow shot to his side.
"I've left Alexis out of this one," he says with a chuckle. "But I know a guy… Henry, my attorney. For the soaking his retainer costs me, he's got to earn his keep. Anyway, there have been 14 situations where a consultant has had a personal relationship with a member of the NYPD since 1994. There was one documented rejection – where a detective's request that her fiancé be accepted as a consultant was denied due to his two felony convictions." He pauses long enough to catch her attention and confirms "No felonies for me, just misdemeanors from horsing around," finally succeeding in prompting an eye roll from Beckett.
"In about half the examples, the couples were in the same group and interacted regularly in what the attorneys call 'the ordinary course of business.' In each case, the NYPD review board noted law enforcement training as the significant contributing factor for allowing the arrangements," Castle explains.
"So even if they ignored the time you've already logged at the precinct…," Beckett begins.
"I'll have the training, and maybe some case experience, with the FBI," Castle concludes. "Not that a little prudence won't serve us well, especially in the beginning."
Beckett smiles as she feels a weight lift. As Castle knows well, she's a private person so they're unlikely to start ostentatiously tearing up the social scene together. But the potential consequences to their partnership has been a nagging concern any time she's imagined a romantic relationship with Castle, so a defense against challenges on that front is a great relief. And, perhaps the aspect of this surprise that most affects her is that it's yet more proof of Castle's investment in them, in his hopes for the future.
They are just turning onto Broome when Beckett makes another connection. "What a minute, Rick. Back when you were suspended, that night at the Haunt when you told us about your meeting with the FBI. You said that there were other reasons you were talking to them. Was this one of the reasons that you didn't mention?"
Adopting that mix of shyness, pride, and smug certainty that only he can combine, Castle comes clean. "Yeah, it is. But don't get angry, I could hardly talk about this in front of Lanie and the boys. Or you," he ends with a small chuckle.
"Rick, I'm not angry. I'm just … I don't know … amazed?" she says, growing more serious. "You've put so much thought and planning into this, even when I wasn't giving you any reason for hope, or when I was putting us off. It's just … amazing," she finishes weakly, a little embarrassed that she can't come up with an adjective that better captures her feeling about his faith in their chances.
"Kate," Castle says, coming to a stop. He tugs a little on her hand to spin her so that they're facing each other, there on the sidewalk just a block from his loft. "I wanted you right from the start," he starts with a roguish grin. "But pretty quickly after that, I wanted us. I've just tried to do things that might ease our path to each other."
With a laugh, Beckett tugs on his hand to get them started back towards the loft. He seems happy to comply, having seen something in her look, so she doesn't explain what prompted her laugh. If not for his 'going slow' preference, Beckett had imagined jumping him right there on the sidewalk. She tucks the thought away as something she can share in the future.
They are approaching the door to his building and Castle starts to slow as if to extend their time together. But Beckett maintains the pace, using her hold on his hand to pull him along, right past the door.
"Hey Beckett, I live back there…," Castle trails off as Beckett turns the corner to the parking ramp and starts drawing Castle down with her. "Did you leave your cruiser here?" Castle asks, looking adorably confused.
"Castle," she says in a breathy tone, "I distinctly remember you telling me that we could get away with a few minutes of cavorting before anyone noticed," she says, and delights in watching the action of his Adam's apple as he convulsively swallows. "When you said slow, you were talking about kisses, right?"
.
A/N: Thus goes 'the talk.' For those of you who were looking for the conspiracy plot, there's none today, I'm afraid. This chapter nearly wipes out the buffer I had between what was written and what was posted, but work will calm done quite a bit after tomorrow. So, not only am I hopeful that I can get more writing done, but I get to turn to those stories that I've been denying myself lately. Good reading ahead!
