Kate manages to talk Castle into a walk on the beach the next morning, even though the wind is strong and the clouds are a deep, menacing grey. He grumbles a little, of course, makes a show of tightening his scarf the moment they step outside, but Beckett is drinking it all in. The humidity in the air, the taste of salt on her tongue, the deafening crash of the waves on the shore: she was born for this. Born to stand in the middle of a storm, watch it unfurl and hit and wind down.
For a second she wants to turn to Castle and say: Let's not go back. Let's buy a boat and sail across the world to those tiny hidden islands where people hunt and fish and walk around naked all the time.
But she's Kate Beckett, homicide cop, city girl, and the impulse is gone before the words can make it to her mouth. Castle notices - when does he not - and he reaches for her gloved hand, squeezes it. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
She gives him a smile for that, tries to lace their fingers - but the gloves make that difficult. She settles for old-fashioned hand-holding and shakes her head. "Nothing, just." Silly daydreams. But Rick's looking at her in that soft, inviting way, and she figures she might as well take her chance. "Have you heard anything from Kyra?"
His eyes widen. "Ah, no. No, not since..." They both know the end to that sentence. Not since we broke up so I could be with you.
Kate nods, her teeth worrying her bottom lip, and he adds, "I've not exactly been expecting her call. I, uh, I doubt I'm her favorite person right now. Can't see why she'd want to talk to me."
"Oh." Beckett frowns, glances at the dark, moving shape of the sea. The sand is soft under her shoes. "I thought, I don't know. The way you talked about it - I thought it'd been a...friendly break-up. If there is such a thing."
"No, it was. It was. It's just... A bad situation. Not - not you, obviously, I'm thrilled to no end that you're alive and you're here with me after all that-"
Kate laughs, can't help it; there's something a little comical, a lot adorable about his sudden distress. "I know, Castle."
He narrows his eyes at her, but there's more relief than actual annoyance on his face. "At least someone thinks this is funny. Anyway, as I was saying, I haven't tried calling her." He watches the line of the horizon for a second. "Guess I didn't want to seem like I was rubbing it in. It felt cruel, you know? Unnecessary."
"But the two of you are friends, right? Or you were before this whole thing happened. So maybe she wants to hear from you. You can't just make that call in her place, Rick. That's not how it works."
He stares at her. "Just to be clear. You...are telling me I should call Kyra."
Kate shrugs, feels a stick break under her foot. "Yeah. You know - make sure she's okay. And if she doesn't want to talk to you, she doesn't have to pick up. But at least this way you'll know for sure, rather than just imagine things in your head."
He doesn't reply immediately. They walk in silence for a few minutes, the sky ever-darkening above them; Kate's arm stretches as they move apart, relaxes when they come together again. "Is there a reason you're asking about Kyra now?" he asks at last, his eyes almost grey in the dim light.
Beckett breathes in the smell of the sea, tilts her head back to look at the stormy clouds overhead. "Not really. I feel a little responsible, that's all."
Castle stops dead in his tracks. "Responsible for what?"
"Well, if you look at it a certain way, I did kind of... steal her boyfriend. It's not that simple, I know," she says, stalling his protest with a sharp look. "But let's face it, Castle. If Kyra's miserable right now, it's probably because of me."
"It is not. If it's anyone's fault, Kate, it's mine. I'm the one who should have believed in you rather than go back to Kyra the first chance I got. I'm the one who hurt you. Both of you. So don't even start-"
She shuts him up the only way she knows how. She cups the back of his neck with her free hand and presses a forceful kiss to his lips, gives him a hint of tongue before she retreats. He looks a little dazed; Kate smiles, brushes her mouth over his again, then smoothes her thumb over his eyebrow. "Part of me's also grateful, you know."
Confusion swims in Castle's blue eyes. "Grateful."
"To Kyra." Kate takes a step back, lets out a breath. "I've said this before, Rick, but - I've been in that place. Obsessing over my mother's murder, chasing leads that barely even deserved the name. Memorizing the details of the case until they were all I knew, until I saw them every single time I closed my eyes. Like you did with me. And if Kyra - if she helped you crawl out of that hole, reminded you that life was worth living, then yeah. I'm grateful."
He watches her for a moment, his lips pressed and his eyes intense. Then without warning he tugs her into him, offsets her balance just enough that her mouth crashes back onto his. He kisses her slowly, deliberately, and the confident stroke of his tongue makes her knees turn to water. "Have I ever told you what an extraordinary woman you are, Kate Beckett?"
She can't help the bright smile that blossoms on her lips. "Let me think. No, actually, I don't remember. Don't think I've ever heard that word come out of your mouth before."
He inches closer to her, his eyes dark and full of promise. "You sure, Beckett? You could be under oath here. You have any idea how much time you would get for perjuring yourself?"
"What are you gonna do about it? Arrest me? Where are your handcuffs, Detective Castle?"
He groans and she's really, really liking what she sees on his face, but then thunder has to rumble in the distance and ruin it all. "We should, ah. We should probably head back," he says, making an obvious effort to recover his control. "Unless we want to-"
That's when the sky opens up and rain starts pouring down on them.
"-get drenched," Castle finishes with a resigned sigh.
"It's just water," Kate reminds him, linking her arm with his and turning them around. "Won't kill you, I promise. And think, how convenient! You live close by and your closet is full of dry clothes. Quite the lucky man, if you ask me."
He smirks at her. "Kate Beckett finding me a silver lining. I didn't think I'd see the day."
She sticks her tongue out at him. "Come on, Castle. I'll race you to the house."
Castle's standing in the shower, hot water pounding on his shoulders and slowly warming him up, when he suddenly gets this vision of a scene for the novel. He can see it all unfurl, can see the initially mundane conversation between Nikki and Rook turn into a passionate fight that leads to even more passionate sex, and his fingers start itching, the words building up inside him.
Damn. He reaches for the soap and washes himself quickly, tries to stall the sentences forming in his mind, the sound of them so right that he yearns to write them down. So much for a long, relaxing shower.
He stops the water and almost trips on his own feet as he stumbles out, grabs a towel. He gives himself a cursory rub and then jumps into his clean clothes, cuts his thumb on the zipper of his jeans in his haste. He's not even sure how he managed that, but there's no time to waste; he sucks on the blood and slips his shirt on, walks out of the bathroom with his fingers still fumbling for the buttons.
He hurries down the stairs and goes straight into his study, vaguely aware of Kate's voice calling out something to him. He simply can't stop now. He knows she'll understand; she seems so pleased that he's writing again, has given him that secret smile every time he's brought up Nikki and Rook. As if she knows perfectly well she's responsible for every word of it.
Rick opens his laptop and watches the screen come to life, drops into his chair with a sigh as he calls up the word processor. Finally.
His fingers dance over the keys and the rest of the world disappears.
Kate leans a shoulder into the doorframe and watches him for a moment, absorbing the feverish look on his face and the quick staccato of his fingers. Sometimes he pauses for a few seconds, his mouth moving silently like he's trying out the words, and his eyes stray from the screen, sweep over Kate without seeing her.
It's kinda hot, actually. The way he's completely focused, nothing else registering. She has memories of him looking at her like that, moving over her body with the same intensity on his face, and it coils tightly in her stomach, leaves her a little breathless.
Not now, Beckett.
She blinks a few times, shaking herself out of it, and she pads quietly inside. Castle doesn't seem to notice; he keeps typing urgently even as Kate stands at his back, leans over his shoulder. She presses her cheek to his, lets her hands slide down, her arms wrap around his chest, and she waits for him to come back to her.
He slows down, frowns, the course of his hands over the keyboard more hesitant now. Kate glances at the screen and then looks away, unwilling to spoil that brand new novel for herself. "You with me?" she asks softly when his index finger hits the period and stills.
He hums his acquiescence, but she can see his eyes intent on the screen, going over what he's written.
"I've gotta go into town, Castle," she says, nudging his cheekbone with her nose. "Last check-up at the hospital today." She waits for an answer.
"Right," he says after a moment, distractedly resting a hand over hers.
"It shouldn't take very long. An hour, tops. So I figure, since you're busy, I can drive there and back on my own. Okay? You keep writing, finish your chapter, maybe come up with another one. Take your time. I'll be back before you know it."
"Okay." He's still not looking at her, so Kate trails her hand a little lower, slips two fingers under the waistband of his pants. Castle jerks and lets out a startled, adorable gasp. He turns his head, blinks at her.
"Can you repeat that back to me?" she says, smiling at his clueless face.
"You're going to your check-up. An hour. You'll be back."
Kate can't help a quiet laugh. "Not bad, Writer-boy. Not bad at all." She leans in and brushes her lips to his warm, tender mouth. "See you then," she murmurs, and she heads out.
Castle edits his chapter carefully, researches the different kinds of wildlife one might encounter when hunting in the state of New York. He usually does that before he writes - he's had a few perfectly good scenes ruined because of one tiny detail popping up to invalidate the whole setup - but apparently he's lucked out today. Only a couple minor things to change. He reworks the last line, trying different arrangements of words until he finds the exact right phrasing, and then he saves the document with a satisfied hum.
It's getting pretty good. He was nervous at first, kept second-guessing himself, but now he's back in control. He's got this.
Rick tilts his head, considers sending the first three chapters to Gina. It's tempting. Gina, for all her faults, is an excellent editor; she's blunt about what she likes and doesn't like, tells him clearly what she thinks he should do differently. And she'd be able to tell him whether or not Black Pawn still wants him.
Not yet, he decides, pulling the laptop shut. He's got maybe two, three more chapters to go. Might as well finish his first draft before he reaches out to his ex-wife. He's given Black Pawn no reason to trust him over the last two years, so it might help his case if he actually has a complete novel to show them.
Castle pushes himself off his chair and stretches, pops a few joints. His body's tingling with the long stretch of inactivity; Rick works his neck, his shoulders as he walks down the hallway. "Kate?"
He's not sure exactly when she came into his study to tell him she was off to the hospital. He wishes he had paid more attention now, because the moment his voice trails off into silence he can't help but picture the worst.
Something showed up on the x-rays and the doctors decided to put her through more tests. She was driving too fast on the way back and crashed the car. Someone - not Tyson, Tyson is dead, he reminds himself - was waiting for her outside the house, waiting to kidnap her or rob her or-
He closes his eyes and rubs his fingers over his eyebrow, thinks of what Kate would say if she knew where his mind's at.
Yup. She'd make fun of him.
He's standing there in the hallway when his stomach starts a series of impressive growls and he realizes he's hungry. Starving even. Oh. In his writing frenzy he skipped lunch, didn't he?
Hmm. Gotta fix that.
Kate turns the key in the lock and eases the door open, steps inside. The rich aroma of Castle's coffee welcomes her home, wraps around her as she closes the door and sheds her shoes. She smiles and tiptoes to the kitchen, hoping to sneak up on him.
She finds him sitting at the table with an empty plate and a smoking mug in front of him. He leaps to his feet the moment he sees her, his eyes crinkled in pleasure, and he crowds her before she can get rid of her coat.
"Hey," he murmurs against her ear, his hands on her waist, holding her close. He wants to cuddle, huh?
Kate hides her smile in his shirt, presses her lips to the side of his neck. "You miss me, Castle?"
"Yeah," he murmurs, and she laughs out loud, a full sound that surprises her.
"Liar," she says, resting her hands on his chest and pushing him back. "You were writing. I'm sure you hardly noticed."
He narrows his eyes at her. "I noticed," he protests, and there's something in his voice that catches her attention.
She cocks her head at him. "Were you worried?"
He shrugs, but she knows the dejected look that flashes across his eyes. The You see right through me look. "Maybe a little," he says. She rewards his honesty with a brush of her fingers against his. "You hungry?" he asks. "Cause I just made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I was thinking I could have another one. Or maybe half. Yeah. You wanna share a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with me, Beckett?" He wriggles an eyebrow and Kate bites her lip, feels another laugh ripple in her chest.
"Sure, Rick. Make me a sandwich."
She leans against the table, her thigh pressed to the solid wooden edge, and she watches him move around the kitchen, goofy and so sweet. The man she loves. Alexis's father.
It just doesn't make sense. "Castle. What happened with Meredith and Gina?"
She didn't mean to blurt it out like that; she sees the way his back stiffens, the surprised look he gives her over his shoulder, and she wishes she could take it back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-" But she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. She did mean to ask. She does want to know. "It's just something that - I've been wondering for a long time," she explains, coming closer. "But if you don't want to talk about it right now, I understand, Rick. I-"
"No, no," he says slowly, turning to her. "You're right. It's a... It's a legitimate question." The smile he gives her is a little forced, but at least he's trying. "Let me finish that sandwich and then we'll talk, okay?"
She nods. While he busies himself with the food Kate reaches inside the cabinet for another cup, moves over to the machine to make herself an espresso. They sit at the table together, each on a side of the same corner, and Beckett laces her fingers with his, rattled by the gravity on his face. "Look, we don't have to talk about this," she offers again, but he shakes his head.
"I'm fine. It's fine." His eyes flick up to hers, something of a smile in them. "I can't ask you to move in with me and then refuse to answer this kind of questions, you know? Wouldn't make sense."
She quirks her lips at him. "Didn't think you were concerned about making sense, Castle."
He hums, bobs his head. "Sometimes."
Kate picks up her half sandwich, giving him a moment to gather his words, and as she bites into it she realizes she's actually hungry. "Oh, that's amazing," she says around her mouthful, her eyes fluttering closed as she swallows. "Wow. I needed that."
He smiles at her, more genuine this time. "I'm glad you like it." His fingers tighten briefly around hers, and he clears his throat. "So. Meredith."
Kate listens to his story with the same attention she would give a murder witness, nods once or twice when he says something she'd sort of figured out on her own. Meredith's cheating on him comes as a shock though, and Kate grips his fingers as sorrow tangles in her throat. God, no wonder he filed for divorce.
When he falls silent she lifts their joined hands and slowly kisses his knuckle. "I'm sorry," she breathes, moves on to the next one.
"It was a long time ago," he says, but the grief is there, is real in his eyes.
"Still. She took a vow, Castle. She married you, she gave birth to Alexis. She should've made you guys come first." Kate turns his hand into hers, presses her lips to the soft inside of his palm.
"She didn't mean to hurt us. That's what I tell myself. She just - she doesn't feel things the way we do, and she has no idea. That's it. She has no idea."
There's not much to say to that. Kate strokes her thumb over his palm, lets the silence wash over them, cool and soothing. "I'd never cheat on you," she declares quietly after a while, thinking he might need to hear it. "Never, Rick."
He looks at her, his lips parting into a slow smile, his eyes bright. "I know. I trust you."
Her heart tap-dances in her chest, the air stilling for a second in her lungs. "I trust you, too," she manages to rasp when she remembers how to breathe, and she thinks maybe she doesn't need to ask about Gina after all.