Chapter 37: Boundaries
Previously…
"Had enough excitement for one night?" asks Kate, when she catches Castle's tired looking face in the glow of her phone as he struggles to defeat a huge yawn.
"Can we come back and explore your den tomorrow? In daylight?" he adds, earning a chuckle from Kate.
"Sure," she replies, jerking her head in the direction of the cabin.
Castle follows her sure-footed path through the woods, confident in her knowledge of the uneven terrain.
"Come on," she says, turning to hold out her hand. "Fire should be almost out by now, but we should really make sure before we turn in."
Turn in. Castle likes the sound of that. Going to bed for the night with Kate Beckett in her family's old cabin would have been nothing short of a dream a week ago. Now that he's here, he can't quite believe how lucky he feels.
When they get back to the cabin, Castle douses the fire with a bucket of water, standing back to watch the smoke and steam rise up into the cool night air with a quiet smile of satisfaction. He built it up and he gets to snuff it out, he thinks, quite pleased with himself, as he dangles the old zinc milk pail from his right hand, the other tucked casually into his pocket. There's a perfect symmetry in that and Richard Castle likes symmetry: the evenhandedness of it all, the sense of fairness, of justice and a job well done.
God he loves it out here: rustic splendor all around, the proximity to nature that he really only gets to experience these days when out roaming the shoreline in the Hamptons. But even then his view and experience is framed within the luxury of a near private beach, the sand regularly groomed by a local man called Sam who rides a large John Deere, combing the surface to perfection, picking up any stray litter with his teenage son, Blake, at his heels, so the local residents will pay for their beach parking permits without complaint, and the tourists and seasonal renters will keep turning out in their droves, tipping more and more tax dollars into Suffolk County's coffers.
No, out here is nature at its best, its rawest, and tonight he couldn't be happier about that, as he stares up at the stars and listens to an army of frogs call out, an amphibian choir, seemingly of one singular, throaty voice.
Kate, meanwhile, is in the kitchen washing up their dinner dishes. The domesticity of these two scenes has a strange feeling to it, since these are not tasks they're used to performing in each other's company. But they've always made a good team, even back when Castle did all he could to get a rise out of Kate and she pretended not to like him. So this is just an extension to their repertoire, not to mention the speediest way to get up to bed if they both attack different jobs at the same time.
"Nearly done?" asks Castle, dumping his bucket on the porch, before coming over to stand behind Kate as she rinses suds off the last of the cutlery.
He places his hands on her hips and rests his chin on her shoulder, nudging her hair aside with his nose so that he can kiss her neck.
"I'll be done a lot quicker if you—oh, shit, Cassel," she slurs, jabbing him in the stomach with one of her elbows while gripping the edge of the counter with her other hand, "stop distracting me."
"Where would be the fun in that?" he whispers, sliding his hands down her bare forearms to steal suds off her fingers as he slips his digits between her own.
"Did you lock…Jesus," she curses, when he sucks on her neck and then licks the damp patch he just created. "The door. Did you lock the door?" she pants, fingers latching onto his and squeezing without her even thinking about it.
"I thought these woods were safe," he mutters teasingly, flicking her earlobe with his tongue.
"I'm a cop. Someone breaks in at night when my door is left unlocked…I'd be pretty mortified explaining that to the local Sheriff."
"Right. Good point, Detective," growls Castle, grinning against her neck while he swirls their sudsy fingers in the warm water.
"So…what are you waiting for?" asks Kate, twisting her head around to look at him.
Castle uses this as an opportunity to kiss her full on the mouth. Her grunt of disapproval is contradicted by the 180 degree pivot she makes to face him, wet hands slipping into his rear pant's pockets to cup his ass and drag him tight up against her.
"My—Beckett, my butt is wet," he whines, when they pull apart to catch their breath, both grinning like fools.
"Then stop distracting me. If the fire is out, the table cleared and the front door locked…your work here is done, Lone Ranger. So how about you go on up and…and get comfortable," she whispers, leaning in for a quick, reassuring kiss. "I'll finish this and be up in a minute. I promise," she adds to encourage him.
Castle pauses, weighing his options. He's addicted to being around her, especially with her t-shirt damp down the front and a flash of black lace peaking through the wet, transparent patches. But then again, he could go upstairs and light some candles. He packed one in case the cabin was a candle free zone, only to discover the master bedroom peppered with fragrant nightlights. Another new factoid to add to his growing list of 'Things You'd Never Guess about Kate Beckett'.
Kate arches one eyebrow at him before turning back to the rapidly cooling water in the washing-up bowl.
"It's not a difficult choice, Rick. Stop over-thinking it," she cajoles over her shoulder, turning to flick suds at him, amusement clear to hear in her voice.
Castle puts his hands up in surrender and starts to back away towards the stairs. "Okay. Going. I'm going. But don't stay down here too long."
Kate levels him with a stare; a stare that says he just uttered something veering close to insane. "You think I'm going to linger down here? Hmm? In the kitchen? With my hands in rapidly cooling dishwater? Really?"
"Well—"
"When I have a man in my bed. Upstairs. Waiting for me?"
"Okay, but when you put it like that I…I could be any man," he points out.
"Rick," warns Kate, shaking her head at him, biting her lip to stop from laughing. "Have you been listening to anything I've said the last few days?"
"Yeah."
"Then scoot. Shoo. Go warm up the bed before my fingers start to prune."
Castle flashes her a crazy grin, before turning on his heel and sprinting up the old wooden staircase without any further delay.
When Kate finds Castle five minutes later, he's not in the master bedroom warming up the bed as she'd hoped and expected. No, he's standing in the middle of her childhood bedroom holding one of her father's sobriety chips in his hand.
When he hears her approach he spins around, looking at least a little guilty.
"Snooping through my stuff and…still touching things, I see," she murmurs quietly, lifting the bronze token out of his open palm and placing it carefully back on the nightstand where it apparently belongs.
Her expression immediately tells him she's not amused and her tone of voice backs that up if he were still in any doubt.
"I…I was just looking for some matches," he stammers, his face betraying the fact that he already knows he's in the wrong here.
"You know, I would have shown you my room in time. You didn't have to just wander in and help yourself."
His heart sinks. "Kate, I wasn't—"
She holds up a hand to silence him. "Castle, save it. I'm too tired to argue with you," she sighs, deflating almost immediately once these angry words are out there, swirling around the small bedroom.
He visibly shrinks in front of her. Disappointment fills the room with a dark pall that is almost tangible.
Castle looks down at the floor for a couple of seconds and then he seems to find a little courage from somewhere to look directly at her again. "You never talk about this stuff. About your dad, I mean." He's challenging her, but it's done so quietly, so gently, that she finds it hard to hate him for it.
"Ever think maybe there's a reason I don't talk about it? Like I'm trying to forget?" Her words have lost the bite of just a moment ago, though they are filled with enough pain to make him regret coming in here without her permission and basically forcing this discussion on her as a result.
She reaches past him again to pick up the sobriety chip, managing not to touch him even though the space is small. She turns it over in her hand when she speaks.
"Anyway, I talked about it tonight. Isn't that enough heartache for you? Or what? Not raw enough? Did I miss out some painful detail Nikki might need at some point in the future?"
Castle looks wounded and appalled. "Kate, that's not fair."
She stares at him until he looks as if he wishes the ground would just swallow him whole, and then she lets her stance soften just a fraction, lets her fingers uncurl from their tightfisted grip around the cool, metal token. She sags under the weight of the uncomfortable silence that crackles between them in the small, confining space of her single bedroom.
"You're right," she replies quietly, sinking down onto the single bed with the chip resting in her open palm, her features suddenly lined by exhaustion, the glow he left her with downstairs having deserted her.
Castle remains standing, swaying slightly, unsure what to do next. He's seen angry Kate before, when he used to get up in her business, knowing he really shouldn't. But this is different. He doesn't know how to deal with Kate who loves him, Kate who shares his bed and promises she wants to build a future with him, when he's obviously just disappointed and upset her so much.
They still have so much to learn, so many roads to navigate.
"This bronze chip represents one year sober," she begins to explain, stroking the raised surface with the tip of her index finger. "He gave it to me when we came out here to spend a rare weekend together. I…I confess I had no idea the anniversary was even coming up. I was living a day at a time back then, head down, barely getting through so... It just kind of snuck up on me."
Castle rubs the back of his neck in discomfort. "Kate, you really don't have to—"
She reaches out and snags his hand, tugging him closer. "Rick, would you just…please sit down? Please? You're making me nervous standing over me like that."
Her request surprises him. He capitulates immediately. "Uh…sure. Sure, of course I can do that," he mumbles, easing himself down to sit on the narrow bed beside her.
The mattress squeaks and the bedframe creaks in protest under their combined weight. These are the only sounds in the small room for what seems like the longest time, aside from their regular, quiet breathing.
"What do you want to know?" she asks at length, resting her hand on his leg before turning to look at him, the chip still carefully secreted in her other hand.
Castle finds his mind suddenly blank, seized by a kind of panic at being put on the spot over something so serious and painful as this period in her past. Her mother's murder lead directly to her father's drinking, as far as he is aware; cause and effect. Abandoned by both parents at the same time, it's almost unconscionable. He thinks about Alexis effectively losing her mother as an infant, and then imagines what it would have done to her had he disappeared at the same time. Even if she lost him now it would crush her spirit. It's at that moment he realizes how Kate must feel, finding him in here raking over her childhood memories as if her bedroom were some kind of museum exhibit.
He stands so hastily that he feels lightheaded, the blood supply to his brain not fast enough to keep up with his movements. White sparks dance in front of his eyes and he takes a moment to steady himself before he speaks.
"I had no place, Kate. No place even being in here, let alone asking you about any of that."
He turns to look down at her when she doesn't say anything.
"I'm so sorry. Can we just—?"
"What? You want to forget it? Pretend like it never happened or…or act like it's okay we're still keeping things from each other?"
Castle is surprised by her change of heart, but he lets that go for now.
"Look, I can't imagine what you went through back then, Kate. But clearly you handled it, and you both survived. For me to pick at that scab is…it's unforgiveable."
Kate frowns, her face morphing into an expression of genuine puzzlement. "So, you're telling me that you're okay with us only sharing edited highlights of our past? We just pick and choose? You? Mister Curiosity himself?"
"I want us to be open, to be honest…yes. And I'm happy to share any and all of my past with you, Kate. Feel free to ask me anything. I just don't think I should be forcing you to explain any of this when I don't need to know. Besides, you were so against it a few minutes ago. What's changed?"
"And you wanted to know everything a few minutes ago. I could ask you the same thing," she counters.
Castle shrugs. "My concern for you outweighs my need to know the story, I guess. You?"
"I'm terrified of keeping secrets," admits Kate, nodding to herself in realization. "It hurt us so badly in the past. I don't want to go there again, to be that person anymore."
"Kate," Castle says softly, offering her his hands to help her up from the low bed so that she can stand, putting them back on the same level again. "I think we both have to work on our boundaries, on what's appropriate, on what's…necessary to share. We have to figure out where to draw the line between what's in our heads and what needs to come out."
She listens to him, her head titled thoughtfully to one side.
"You can have an inner life, private thoughts. That's perfectly okay. I don't need to know everything," Castle assures her. "And I'm sure you don't want to know every crazy idea that pops into my head either."
Kate laughs unexpectedly. "Good point. Though I'm pretty sure you've been sharing most of them for the past four years," she adds, grinning at him.
She looks back down at her hand, opening out her fingers to expose the recently minted, antiqued bronze chip. It reads 'To Thine Own Self Be True' on one side. The Roman numeral one sits at its heart on a raised center. On the reverse the words of the Serenity Prayer are etched as a constant reminder to the recipient of their on-going struggle with addiction.
She reaches past Castle to place the chip back on her old nightstand and then she clasps his hand. "Ready to go to bed? We can warm it up together," she suggests, with a conciliatory smile.
Castle follows Kate out of the small bedroom, his fingers barely touching hers by the time they approach the foot of the big old bed in her parents' former room. Sparks of electricity leap off the tips of his fingers every time they brush or connect with Kate's warm skin. He tugs her back against his chest before they can go any further, letting go of her hand completely so that he can wrap his arms around her body from behind, holding her close.
"You do know I will never use anything private between us in my novels?" he murmurs intently, nuzzling his nose in against her soft, fragrant neck.
Kate bites her lip and nods. She lightly bumps her head off Castle's where is rests alongside hers. "Yeah, I know," she says lightly, wrapping her arms around his and squeezing, so that he holds her even tighter.
"Good. I'm glad. Because that's important."
Kate nods again before allowing her head to drop back against her partner's shoulder in a tired gesture of surrender.
"We'll figure this out, Kate," he promises, kissing her hair. "Rome wasn't built in a day. But we'll get there."
She turns around so that they're facing one another and then she smiles up at him, her gaze trusting and open once more. "What did you want those matches for anyway?"
"Uh…candles," he admits, grinning sheepishly, arching his eyebrows at her in hopeful suggestion.
Kate chuckles quietly and shakes her head. "I must have found the most romantic man in the whole of New York," she notes, running her hands up over his well-defined chest.
Castle watches her quiet, determined worship of his body with something close to wonder, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as she toys with the collar of his shirt. "Is that a complaint? Beckett, is that a complaint?" he teases, tweaking her sides with tickling fingers until she squirms in his embrace and squeals with laughter.
Kate finally worms her way out of his grasp to hold him at arm's length. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes bright from laughing. "We will work this out," she promises, growing serious for a moment. "I'll get better at this…at sharing. Just give me time?" she asks, leaning in to brush her lips against his in a kiss full of reassurance, one that also asks for his forgiveness.
"I have no doubt," agrees Castle, slowly walking her backwards towards the bed.
TBC...
Castle 5x03: Secret's Safe With Me (original script courtesy of Scriptline)
BECKETT: Who said that you could answer my phone? And why are you going through my drawers?
CASTLE: I was just looking for a pad of paper.
BECKETT: Sure you were. Stay out of my stuff, Castle.
CASTLE: Your stuff? Need I remind you, I've already seen…your stuff.
BECKETT: Yeah, well, some of my stuff is still private.
Our girl's got form in the privacy department, just sayin'. Hope you have a great weekend. Liv x