As Beckett said she "believes in the everyday magic of life in … the way that I feel when I hear Coltrane", this is from his album "Settin The Pace". These vignettes come to mind when I hear the songs as played by John Coltrane.

This song is "If There is Someone Lovelier Than You." You can hear the song as played by Coltrane, Red Garland, Paul Chambers and Art Taylor on YouTube.

watch?v=6B1Gasha_HY

This song is by Arthur Schwartz and Howard Dietz. A version of it being sung by Frank Sinatra is also on YouTube.

watch?v=Yss1GT7s7G0

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC television. The lyrics are the property of their respective owners. No infringement is intended.

Transcriptions from dustjackets dot wikifoundry dot com slash page slash Transcripts. Other supporting information is from wiki dot castletv dot net.

Spoilers are in the vignette episodes and prior episodes.

All mistakes and errors are mine.

If there is someone lovelier than you

Then I am blind, a man without a mind

If there is someone lovelier than you

A/N: Sometime in season 1, definitely after 1x01 Flowers for Your Grave

Kate Beckett sat at a table in a bar near the 12th. Her white wine in front of her had a couple of sips taken. She looked at her dad's watch noting the time.

"Waiting for someone?" A man asked. "Because if you were my date, I'd never keep you waiting."

Beckett looked up at the man standing nearby. Her police instincts kicked in first and while he was over 6 feet, his stance and demeanor indicated that he wasn't an imminent threat. Then her female instincts did their assessment.

The man was dressed as a typical Manhattan businessman would be. A standard uniform almost. High end, pin striped, dark (probably navy, the dim light in the bar was not enough to tell) colored suit. White fitted shirt. Boldly colored red tie for some flair in his standard businessman uniform, loosened to indicate he was 'off the clock.' Also an almost standard-issue gold watch peeking out from his suit sleeves. His hair had a touch of grey and although not balding, was very short, almost a military cut. His face was clean shaven with a hint of five o-clock shadow, and while attractive was not anything like a 'pretty boy' would be. His fitness level, though camouflaged by the suit, indicated he was familiar with the gym. She estimated his age to be late 30's or early 40's.

Beckett continued to stare at the man in silence.

"Can I buy you a drink?" the man asked. "I'm Dave by the way."

He held out his hand offering to shake hers as a greeting.

"Kate," Beckett said, shaking his hand. "I'm waiting for a co-worker. She's on her way. No need for a drink, I've just started on this one."

"May I keep you company while you wait?"

Beckett thought for only a moment and then said as she pointed to the other chair, "Sure, Dave. Have a seat."

Dave sat at the chair and for the next 10 minutes or so they exchanged condensed life histories. Dave was impressed that Beckett was a police detective. Kate was complimentary to his business experience.

While they talked, Beckett realized that there was no spark with Dave. He is attractive, well spoken, educated but there was something lacking. That 'je ne sais quoi' was missing for her. And the fortress around her heart she built due to her mother's murder wouldn't allow any chance with him.

And after a while, Dave also came to realize that it wouldn't work between them.

As Dave came to this revelation, Beckett's phone rang.

"Beckett."

"Hey Kate. It's Lanie."

"Hey Lanie," Beckett answered. "What's up?"

"Just got out of the morgue, last minute additional paperwork for the ADA," said Lanie. "I'll be there in a few."

"Okay, see you then," Kate answered.

She looked up at Dave as he stood up beside the table. "Your friend?"

Beckett nodded, "She's on her way."

"It was nice meeting you, Detective Beckett," Dave said. "I'd ask you out but I think we both know it would be a waste of our time."

"Yeah," Beckett responded. "I'm sorry. I think when you find her, she'll be a lucky woman."

"My first wife didn't think so," Dave answered. "We didn't have any children, thank goodness, so I don't have to deal with her scorn anymore. But I think I've learned some things from that mistake."

"And what's that?"

"Well," Dave started by putting his hand out and counting fingers. "First, you always tell her you love her so she'll never question your feelings and touch her lovingly often, not just as a prelude to sex, but to demonstrate that you love her. Second, say you're sorry when you've made a mistake and accept that she'll make mistakes, too. Third, paraphrasing Rhett Butler, kiss her often so she knows she's been kissed properly by someone who knows how. Fourth, bring her flowers or a gift 'just because' not just on special occasions. And fifth, always complement her on something, preferably on how she looks, her clothes, her eyes, etc."

Dave pauses, putting down his hand and looks at Beckett. "That's as far as I've gotten. There's probably more."

Beckett looked at Dave and said, "That's a pretty good list. Although I'd add something to your list. Tell them you love them every time you go because you never know if you won't be able to tell them again."

"That's a good one," Dave agreed. "Thanks, detective. I'll try to remember that one."

"You're welcome."

"Good luck in your search for him," Dave said. "I hope that he'll do at least some of those things on my list for you. And, in passing, I hope he complements you on your eyes. Because you do have gorgeous eyes."

"Thanks," Beckett said. "And thanks for the complement."

"Good bye, Detective Kate. It was nice meeting you."

"Bye, Dave. Nice meeting you, too."

But no, I'm not blind, my eyes have traveled everywhere

In hopes that I might find, a creature half so fair

A/N: Sometime late in season 5 before 5x21 Still

Rick Castle and Kate Beckett entered the ballroom for the Third Annual Johanna Beckett Memorial Scholarship Fundraising gala walking beside each other. They shared the limo and had a last kiss before exiting the car. Once they got out she had an inviolable rule, no PDA. She worried what the rest of the 12th and especially 1PP would think about this, worried that they'd make Castle quit working with her.

Some key people knew about their change in status, Ryan and Esposito, Lanie, her dad, and obviously Martha and Alexis, but they were sworn to secrecy. She was convinced that if Captain Gates knew she would send that 'dilettante writer playing cop' packing. And even after a year and a half of solving murders, Beckett still wasn't persuaded that Gates saw his value to the team especially after the recent incidents with 3XK and the Valentine earrings.

Beckett was worried the earrings may have spoiled everything so the pair kept a low profile. No romantic dinners out, the closest thing was the occasional burger at Remy's. No nights on the town, excepting the occasional fund raiser like this one, and a 'Nikki Heat' book launch. Everything else that said they were a 'couple' was off the table. Thus, after the disastrous date with the entertainment reporter, Kristina Coterra, Castle went to other author book launches or public appearances solo, much to the chagrin of Paula and Gina.

Beckett felt Gates was the key. If Gates didn't know now they were a couple, Beckett was unwilling to come out and confirm it for her.

She hadn't totally come to terms with just being Rick Castle's girlfriend publically either. She could see in the Ledger on page 6, 'The Best-Selling Author and His Muse Are Now Romantically Linked' the headline would scream. She would be horrified. Her nervousness was lessening about their current different stations in life, a famous, multi-millionaire, best-selling author and a relatively obscure NYPD homicide detective.

Putting all that aside, as a couple they worked. They were 'Yin and Yang' as he put it. In the confines of their homes, their compatibility worked in the most mundane of ways. Their unspoken dance in the kitchen making a meal, for example. One or the other would make occasionally make the meal solo, but in those cases where the worked in concert, there was no awkwardness, no continual hindrance. In the kitchen it was almost like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, the seemingly effortless dance. He would chop the vegetables and she would sauté the entrée. He automatically knew which spices she wanted to add to her dish, she would hand him the tomatoes for the salad.

At the precinct, it was like that, too. She would get the facts and he would put it together. He would come up with the story, that chain of events that makes sense.

She still occasionally winced at his first insight into her story after knowing her a very short time.

There's always a story. Always a chain of events makes everything make sense. Take you for example. Under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart, good-looking women become lawyers, not cops. And, yet, here you are. Why? … Well, you're not bridge-and-tunnel - no trace of the boroughs when you talk, so that means Manhattan. That means money. You went to college. Probably a pretty good one. You had options. Yeah, you had lots of options. Better options. More socially acceptable options. And you still chose this. That tells me something happened. Not to you, you're wounded, but you're not that wounded. And it was someone you cared about. It was someone you loved. And you probably could have lived with that, but the person responsible was never caught. And that, Detective Beckett, is why you're here.

Now, after all this time, all the cases they've tackled together, he'd proven his ability to 'see the story'. They had the highest murder case closure in the NYPD. They had been decorated multiple times for their efforts, some of which could never be acknowledged to the public. He also had helped her find her mother's killer and who paid him to do it. Right now, she couldn't do anything with that information, but she hoped someday soon she would finally bring her mother's murderer to justice.

Castle walked into the ballroom beside his muse/girlfriend hoping that someday soon she would be willing to publicly acknowledge their relationship. He knew she was skittish about this relationship. He hadn't pressed much because he wasn't totally sure of her feelings. Yes, she came to his door drenched, that terrible then wonderful night. But she still hadn't said "I love you" back to him.

He hadn't said it again to her either. Not only because of her skittishness, but because it would probably be a reminder of the last two times she said it to her. Once when they were fighting about him hiding information about her mother's murder and the other time where she lay bleeding out after being shot.

He was pretty sure of his feelings for her. In fact, he had already purchased an engagement ring for when she came to terms with everything. He had hidden it in another larger box in a desk drawer that he knew she wouldn't think to look in. His safe was reserved for important documents and her guns when she spent the night at the loft. He was worried that if she found it now, it could all blow up in his face. Right now she wasn't ready for the next step, of that he was very certain.

No, he had to play it cool with the emotional side.

The physical side of their relationship, however, is everything he could ever have hoped for. Beckett is an adventurous, enthusiastic, playful, and passionate lover. While the models and actresses were pretty, they also were pretty unimaginative when it came to sex. Their approach to sex was almost as simple as 'man on top, get it over with quick.' Intelligence is not generally associated with models and actresses, at least in Rick Castle's experience and after a while Castle was bored with them.

Beckett is just as attractive as those models, even if she wouldn't admit it even to herself. She is much more intelligent than the others before her, too. She couldn't be a dummy if she was the youngest female detective in NYPD history. And that intelligence manifested itself in the bedroom, too.

Yes, Castle had no complaints about the physical side of their relationship. And while they hadn't said 'I love you', it was obvious to their extended families that they cared deeply for each other.

He understood her reticence. He had had it too. He had been burned before in love. The three previous women who he thought he was in love with, could spend the rest of his life with, had betrayed him, each in a different way. His playboy ways, while encouraged for a while by Paula and Gina for that matter, was his way of putting up a barrier, a façade. At the time, he wasn't ready to get close to anyone who could betray him again.

Meredith was the most obvious betrayal. Cuckolding him with her director in their marital bed was a pretty massive betrayal. But she was emotionally absent and self-absorbed before that. She hated being pregnant. It was all Rick could do to keep her from having an abortion. She really, really didn't want to be a mother, which she made continually clear during the pregnancy. All she could think about is how it would affect her figure, the stretch marks that would keep her from the obligatory partially nude scenes in Hollywood productions, and the time off from acting she would have to take to recover from the birth. And then just leaving them both and seeing them so rarely afterward. So maybe the even bigger betrayal was not of Rick but of Alexis.

Betrayals can be more subtle. Kyra's betrayal was more subtle. So she told him 'she needed space' and flew off across an ocean for that 'space.' And then the next time she saw him she said that he was supposed to follow her. No contradiction there. Give me space but follow me to London. All because she wouldn't stand up to her mother. Her mother who thought Kyra could do better than the man her mother expected would "end up homeless or teaching at a third-rate college in New Hampshire." She had a choice and she chose cowardice, she chose betrayal, she chose to break Rick's heart.

Gina's betrayal was subtle, too. She knew that there were several facets to his personality, his creative, playful side, and his serious, intuitive, methodical side. Both sides were necessary for him to be the type of writer he was when he was at his best. How many authors would go through the gauntlet that was the CIA's 'farm' to get the story right? That was an expression of both his creative side and his methodical side, his 'method' author style. And there were times that the creative side took a vacation and the words would not come. When the words were lacking, all she saw was the stubborn man-child that wouldn't put his nose to the grindstone to power through and put up a new chapter. She seemed to forget that she was a loving wife and he was a devoted husband, not a taskmaster publisher and a lackadaisical, petulant author. That was her betrayal, a more serious one because it was, like Meredith, a betrayal of something implicit, if not explicit, in their marriage vows: us united against the cold, cruel, uncaring world.

So this unlikely couple entered the ballroom together, close enough to sense each other's presence, close enough to hold hands but Beckett's 'no PDA' rule prevented that.

Someone remarked within Jim Beckett's and Martha's earshot that they made a handsome couple. While others would readily agree (especially those 'in the know'), to the outside world, the key word was 'yet'. They did make a handsome couple, but they weren't one … yet.

If there is someone lovelier than you

By all that's beautiful, such beauty can't be true!

A/N: Post series

Kate Castle (nee Beckett, although after all this time her husband still called her that) stood at the top of the porch steps looking out at the grassy expanse of their back yard. She looked to her right and saw the empty Casablanca back patio chairs. A while ago she convinced her husband to get a couple of these chairs, with playfully flowered cushions. At times she almost could see herself in 'Rick's Café Américain" waiting for Sam to play 'As Time Goes By'.

She as she sat down, she put her coffee on the table beside her. The early morning sun was starting to peek over the horizon. Even though she had been retired from NYPD for a few years, her body still got her up fairly early. Occasionally, she would sleep late but today was not one of them.

She sipped her regular coffee. To this day, she never learned the special ingredient to make the special coffees Rick made for her. She made it a point never to ask and never to learn the special ingredient from him so he'd always know she needed him.

She remembered sadly the time and her reasons for separating from him. She was worried he'd be caught in the crossfire if there was a shooting. Her worry blinded her to the fact that if anything happened to her, Rick would likely react in one of two ways. He would collapse and be a shell of a man the rest of his life, having a 'living death'. Or, and probably more likely given his resources – financial and otherwise, he would become an 'angel of death' searching out and destroying anything and anyone in his path of righteous vengeance for her death. He would make Charles Bronson in 'Death Wish' look like a boy scout. And in so doing, he would probably get himself killed.

But it was over now. The LokSat organization was long gone, the last of the remnants were rotting away in prison for at least another 10 years.

She now could relax and be a grandmother to Alexis's children. She was looking forward to having more grandchildren from Lily and the twins. And Alexis's oldest was getting married in a year so soon she could be a great-grandma.

She smiled into her coffee and let the morning sun and the calling of the birds wash over her.

Meanwhile, Rick Castle woke from his slumber. As was most often the case in the morning, his wife of almost 25 years was not in bed with him. It had been this way from the time they started sleeping together. Sometimes she would wake hours before he did, especially after one of his all night writing jags. He would find her drinking coffee and reading something if she didn't have to be at work.

Now that she was retired, he always found her with a cup of coffee sitting, often outside when the weather was nice in the Hamptons, enjoying the morning.

Rick went to the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee even though he knew she probably already had one. He brought her coffee for years as a 'good morning kiss' even before they were a couple. He wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Castle collected the additional ingredients for his wife's favorite and stood in front of the metal unit, the one that as Lanie described it, "slices and dices and makes margaritas." Beckett would agree that it was an impressive machine but Castle made, not margaritas, but the best lattes with it.

Castle worked the coffee barista machine like a maestro and soon he would have two cups ready, one was her vanilla latte, his was a cappuccino.

Rick carried the two cups toward the rear porch knowing where she'd most likely be. As he went down the hallway, he could see her through the picture window sitting at the bistro table on the porch.

"I'm so lucky that that fiercely intelligent, beautiful woman decided to be my wife," he thought. He still remembers at that LA hotel his first real declaration of how an amazing woman he thought she is.

You know what I thought when I first met you? … That you were a mystery that I was never gonna solve. Even now, after spending all this time with you I'm … I'm still amazed at the depth of your strength, your heart … and your hotness.

"Little did I imagine that I'd meet such an amazing woman and convince her to be mine," he thought. "And I have a pretty good imagination, if I say so myself."

Castle made his way out to the porch and handed her cup to Beckett.

"I already have one," Beckett said.

"I made you your vanilla latte," Castle responded.

"You always make it so well."

She took a sip and hummed in pleasure at the taste.

"You do that noise again and I might throw you over that table and have my wicked way with you," Castle growled as he leaned down and kissed her.

"Like you did last night?"

"I enjoyed that, both times," Castle smiled.

"I enjoyed it, too," Beckett said warmly. "It's nice to finally be an 'empty nester', isn't it?"

"Yes," Castle agreed. "No kids to disturb us and no need to keep our noises down."

"Mmhmm," Beckett murmured while she took another sip of her latte.

"But you were the instigator last night."

Beckett gave him a look as if to say "Who, me?"

"You wearing that flimsy excuse of a nightgown last night," Rick growled.

"You liked that?" Beckett teased.

"Mmhmm," Castle hummed as he nuzzled her neck.

"Oiling my traps, darling," Kate purred. "I'm afraid I'm a little out of practice."

"Out of practice, my ass. You didn't have it on long."

"No?" Beckett teased.

"No," Castle responded teasing her back. "You had it on longer in the closet before you came out for me to see. And you can snare me in your traps anytime, Beckett. As long as you only set them for me."

"As long as you only go for my traps," Beckett purred as Castle continued to nuzzle her neck.

"Don't you worry about that, Beckett," Castle said. "In my eyes, there's no one lovelier than you."

A/N: Thanks for reading!