He was unenthusiastic about packing a bag. He'd waited until she'd finished with her clothes and moved to the bathroom to get the few things that belong to her to really begin packing. He didn't really know what to pack. A resort and lodge up in Maine, probably a rustic feeling maybe. When he actually was looking at the papers she handed up, he had speed-read that it was overlooking one of Maine's biggest lakes. Hiking, fishing, a tourist trap town nearby. He packed mostly jeans, t-shirts, and some of his older, more comfortable flannels. But he also packed a few of his nicer dress shirts and slacks, just in case.
As for the clothes he has on, he simply changed out of his dress shirt and into a black sweater, shoving the sleeves up his forearms.
Now, he's waiting for her to show from the stairwell into the parking garage. The truck of his luxury sedan is open, with his suitcase already tucked toward the right, he always takes the right, while he's leaning against the back corner of the car, waiting. After a few minutes, the door sounds loudly with a weighty, metallic clang when it opens. She awkwardly rolls her suitcase out behind her, holding the other door open with her elbow, trying not to unbalance the suitcase with her toiletry bag rested on top. She must've had the same idea as him right after he said he'd go down to the car since she'd also changed out of her starched, tight-fitting work blouse into a pair of running shoes, a loose t-shirt, and a small teal blue zip-up hoodie.
Hands in his pockets, he looks up with hesitancy, watching as she hastily pulls her suitcase out from the doorway before the door can catch it while it closes. A strange feeling he can't really place keeps squirming around inside him. A strange mix of anxiety, frustration, fear, and the feeling like he's about to get the worst scolding of his life all worming their way around him.
A few weeks ago, if she'd done something like this for them, he'd be ecstatic. Now... it just feels like she's scheming, plotting.
"Ready?" He asks, trying his hardest not to sound like he's hating this. It sounded... neutral, maybe too neutral.
She looks up to him once her suitcase is steady and rolling across the concrete, the small, plastic wheels rough and loud in the all-concrete space. She musters up a tired, diplomatic smile. Once she's close enough, Rick pushes off the car and, through very many years of practiced movements of being a husband and father, automatically reaches for her suitcase. She doesn't want to start anything, and he doesn't seem to be paying that much attention to her, so she takes a step to the side and lets him take her suitcase. Stonefaced, Rick onehandedly hauls her overstuffed suitcase into the trunk with one hand, and her toiletry bag in with another.
Kate waits, nervously shifting her weight back and forth and pushing and pulling her hands from each pocket of her black slacks. He pulls the trunk closed with a sigh, but there's a moment of pause. She hates when they have to choose their words around each other. When they have to be careful what they say around each other. Not having to worry about any of that for so many years is what drew them so close to each other. He'd make a wildly inappropriate quip over a still-warm body in the middle of the sidewalk, she'd toss out a quip right back, they'd head back to the precinct and pick it right back up, dueling with banter. The number of times she's lost herself just talking and bantering with him... when they had nothing to worry about.
This past year, they'd moved to duel with banter not only with words but with their bodies, often at the same time.
A hot blush boils up her neck and cheeks when he turns to face her. "So..." he begins, his voice sounding heavy, worked, and tired.
Pushing a curl behind her ear, she looks up, noticing it.
"Did uh..." he starts again, looking over to her, "you want me to drive? Since you've been at the precinct all day." He states as an offer.
She wants to smile, to swoon at his offer, him always being the gentleman, caring for her. But she can't help but hear the same diplomacy in his tone that she felt in her smile. "No, I can drive." She says, pulling a hand out of her back pocket and waving it in the air. He doesn't argue and instead offers a simple nod, looking away toward the ground. "Besides, you look pretty tired."
Rick, only feeling the lethargy when she mentioned it, turns around and makes for the passenger side. "Drive's about ten hours." He notes.
Kate stops with her hand on the handle of the door, following his slow path with her eyes. "And it's probably gonna take us an extra hour or two to get out of the city." Rick chuckles to himself, making it to the opposite door, "So," she stops, yanking open her door and falling down inside, then waiting a moment for him. She starts again once his door is open and he falls inside next to her, "I thought we'd maybe hit a drive-thru after we get out of the city, then we can stop halfway and switch?"
He heard her, but doesn't think of a response right away, or move to even address her. Instead, his entire focus is set on getting his knees out of the dashboard and his legs back into a normal, less excruciating angle. He angrily fumbles for the switch with his right hand below the cushion of the seat and finally finds it, shoving the small knob back with his thumb so hard, he thinks he might break it. The seat slowly slides back and his legs are slowly given freedom.
Kate feels small. Maybe it was Alexis that last sat there and left the seat that far up. Maybe it was Martha. Or maybe Alexis borrowed the car and it was one of her friends. But in her heart, she feels he's blaming her, thinking of her sitting there in that passenger seat driving back from the Hampton's. She can feel the blame emanating off his twisted, frustrated expression as he stretches his legs out.
"Yeah..." he says finally, bouncing up and down in the seat to get comfortable. "But uh... I'm not really hungry. Gina ordered dinner and I got something big so I didn't have to listen to her as much."
It would be now when she'd give him a smile that she'd be fighting back like an invading army, look at him with eyes she was sure were glowing right before she gave them a roll and a small shake of her head. Then he'd smirk and his eyes would glow just like hers. But all she manages is a small chuckle that dies in her throat as the key turns in the ignition.
Rick is fast asleep, his head twisted and turning off the headrest in an awkward position that she knows can't be comfortable. She hopes he won't hurt when he wakes up, especially since it's been five hours, it's the middle of the night, the interstate is practically dead save for a seldom trucker going by, and it's pitch black outside. She has to wake him up and change driving shifts. She can't consider herself wide awake, but can't really consider herself tired either. But if she doesn't wake him up, she's worried he'll get upset that she continued driving and didn't let him take over so she could rest.
She hates this. Walking on eggshells, over-evaluating every move she makes and word she says just so it doesn't turn into a fight.
They've never really had a real fight before. At least not as a couple.
But all the times they have fought... it's been for good.
Her heart violently skipping, she shakes her head to jostle the thought away and reaches over, putting her hand on his thigh. Her skin tingles when she touches him, knowing this is probably the first time in weeks she's touched him there. She softly tugs and shoves his leg. "Rick." She says, his first name rolling off her tongue somewhat awkwardly. They've always been Castle and Beckett.
But now... she wants to be just Rick and Kate.
So she tries again, this time a little louder. "Rick."
Her voice finally stirs him and he pulls his head off the side paneling next to the headrest where his ear was resting, probably painfully, against the seatbelt adjuster. "Mmmm..." he groans, his hand finding the side of his neck as he readjusts himself to sit up. "Hmm?"
"Sorry to wake you, but we're halfway." She says, very reluctantly pulling her hand away from his leg.
"Mmm... where are we?" He asks, bouncing up and down in the seat again to get his slacks back where they belong underneath him.
Kate chuckles and looks out the windshield and window. "Middle of nowhere. We entered New Hampshire about an hour ago."
Rick opens his eyes and quickly scans the area outside the car. It's dark, save for a few street lamps scattered over a completely deserted parking lot except for them. They're parked in front of a small building made up of tan bricks and a red, metallic roof. A set of double doors leading to what looks like a small lobby area is directly in front of them.
She watches him intently. "We're at a rest stop. I figured this would be a good place to stop and change over."
He rubs his eyes and starts to exercise his body of sleep. "Yeah, sure." He says in a light voice. Despite everything, he does want her to get some rest. With what she deals with at the precinct, he doesn't want her losing sleep, least not on his account. "You..." he starts, looking at her for a quick second before looking at the building in front of them, "want to get out and stretch your legs for a bit?" He attempts.
She nods while unbuckling her seatbelt. "Sure." She says, opening her door. "I have to go to the bathroom anyway."
Kate gets out ahead of him, stopping to stretch and yawn her entire body out for a long few moments before closing the door behind her. Rick does about the same but takes longer stretching, mainly to give her room as she glides into the building. He watches her... gliding, gracefully. Even now. Her hair is a bit tangled, her slacks are wrinkled, and doesn't go at all with the very worn teal blue hoodie she has on but... she's still life-ruiningly gorgeous.
He decides to look away once she's through the doors and closes his door behind him. He takes his time on sleeping legs to get to the door and then heads towards the men's room opposite a wall of vending machines. He's in and out within maybe a minute and pauses when he goes back out to the lobby area, looking around for her. She must still be in the bathroom. "Hmm..." he hums to himself and looks to the vending machines ahead of himself and pulls out his wallet.
He can hear a toilet flush in the dead, light-buzzing silence while he's looking over the selection of chips, candy bars, and untouched health food snacks near the bottom. Rick looks over his shoulder when he hears a running shoe squeak against one of the dirty tiles behind him. "Hey," he calls to her, "did you want anything?"
Kate smiles small at the gesture. "I'm alright-" She cuts herself off before using a pet name. She wants to but... they're not there yet.
All she's met with is another silent nod before she turns to make her way back outside. She goes outside to the brisk cold of midnight and heads for the passenger side. Breathing out heavily, she reaches for the handle, pulls... but the handle tugs.
Her stomach sinks to her feet.
She tries the handle again... but the door doesn't move. Harder... but it only shakes the car an inch or two. She leans down inside, visoring her eyes with her hand, and looks through the window.
The keys are still in the ignition... and her phone is still in the clip-on holder showing the GPS.
Kate hears the weather stripping of the door scrape a distance away and she springs up. "Where's your phone?" She asks hastily.
Rick stops a few feet away from the door, swinging closed behind him. "In the... car?"
She can feel her heart pound anxiously, leaning down and covering her eyes with her hand again as she looks inside. Sure enough, his phone is sitting in the back cupholder, with the large fast food cup she had for dinner sitting in front of it. Like a feral cat, she all but runs around the back of the car to the driver's side to try the handle. With a hard tug, the door stays shut. Trying the back door next to her, nothing, then moving back around to the other... still nothing.
When she tries the back door handle one more time, this time with a sharp groan, he asks the obvious. "Did you lock the keys in the car?"
"No!" She snaps, spinning around to face him, but not looking at him. "I did not lock anything. All I did was close the door!" She argues, the feral cat moving back around to the driver side.
"It's anti-theft, Beckett." He says, his voice growing more argumentative as he slowly steps down off the curb. "The doors lock when the doors are all closed."
"With the key still inside?" She sarcastically remarks as he stops in front of the car.
Great, her sarcastic voice. She's angry... and when she uses that tone, it's usually him she's angry with. But... wait, this isn't his fault. "Well," he starts just as sarcastically, "they usually assume the driver has the key with them."
"Great." She shrugs her shoulders angrily, rolling her eyes. "A ninety-five thousand dollar car with an anti-theft system that locks its driver out of the car. Smart purchase, Castle."
"Only drivers that forget the keys in the car and..." he stops, lifting a finger in the air, "I wasn't driving." He calmly rebukes... too calmly.
"Are you really blaming me for this?!" She raises her voice, pointing at herself.
He just looks off into nowhere. "Yes, because it's your fault."
"Well, what about you, huh? Tell me." She demands, crossing her arms. "Where's your phone?" She raises her eyebrows just as demandingly as her tone.
But he shrugs, screwing his face together. "What do I need my phone for? The only person who ever calls me with an emergency is you."
"And Alexis?" She quickly fires back. "What if she needs you?"
But Rick shrugs again. "Alexis is celebrating my absence from the loft all night with my mother doing girly stuff. And hey," he finally turns to face her, "glass houses, Detective Beckett. Where's your phone?"
"I already told you!" She snaps back angrily, "I'm not a cop right now. I'm on personal leave for this damn trip!"
Rick chuckles out a scoff. "Which is going just like in the storybooks, I'm sure." He laments and turns away from her.
"Ugghhh!" She seethes furiously and stomps away from him, toward the building.
Rick remains turned away from her until he hears the doors rip open, then waits a few seconds for them to close.
He stops, stares off into the darkness toward the interstate, a truck passing by in the distance. He sighs heavily... then feels his heart fall. Why'd he do that? Why'd he goad her like that? He knew she was angry and just... lit the fuse.
This trip was a terrible idea.
But... they're still stuck here.
On another heavy sigh, Rick looks behind him, to the small grassy area laden with a small tree, lined with decent-sized rocks. He can afford it. What's the big deal?
He goes over and pries a rock out of the dirt, measuring a good seven or eight inches in diameter and weighing a good ten pounds or so. He bounces the rock in his hand a few times, meandering over to the driver's side. It'll probably set off the alarms, but he's after the key. Once he gets that, he can shut that off. And besides, all the anti-theft does is lock the doors. Only the key can turn on the alarm, which is trapped inside of the car.
Rick shrugs at the thought. "Not for long though." He mutters to himself and lifts up the rock, wheeling back.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" She shouts from the door. He stops, the rock held in the air behind his head. "What the hell are you doing?"
He looks over and sees she's holding a long, tangled piece of thick wire. "I'm getting the door open, what the hell are you doing?" He says, still holding the rock as if about to throw it.
Kate rolls her eyes in a wide motion as she quickly moves toward him. She doesn't hesitate to grab the rock from him in both hands and toss it down to the pavement, the concrete breaking in a splash of white against hard black, the rock bouncing once before rolling away. She holds up the long piece of tangled wire in front of him, then raising her eyebrows as far up as they can go.
He looks at the wire, then back to her, his expression falling. "Where'd you get that?"
She purses her lips and moves toward the driver side door. "I tore apart the paper towel dispenser from the bathroom." She says in a flat voice, straightening the tangled piece of metal as much as she can before leaning over the car.
Annoyed, Rick paces off to the side. "So now we're jumping to vandalism?"
"It's not-" she says while shoving the wire down in between the door and window, "vandalism." She continues, looking down to align the wire as best she can. "I... commandeered the use of the women's room paper towel dispenser."
"Commandeered?" He asks, having paced a good distance away. "I thought you said you weren't a cop for this trip."
She turns over her shoulder, feeling a smile form despite everything. "I'm not." She says, looking at him. "But I am still a taxpayer, aren't I?"
Rick looks over to the building and shakes his head. He knows it was a joke, but lets it end their fight. At least ending it on a lighthearted note.
It's at least ten, maybe twenty minutes before Kate gasps, then yelps in excitement. Rick turns and quickly jumps over just as she's tugging on the handle and they both watch with anxiousness as the door pops open. "Ha!" She laughs, a bright smile consuming her features.
It's then that Rick has to turn his eyes away again. Still life-ruiningly beautiful, and her bright, all-consuming smile is the best, and the worst thing to happen to him.
Kate doesn't try with any boasting or smart-mouth quips. She just pulls the door open and presses her finger down onto the button that unlocks the rest of the doors. "So... you still want to drive the rest of the way?" She asks simply.
Rick looks back up to her and nods. "Sure." He would continue, about how after all that she's earned it, maybe throw out a quip about not wanting her to get used to driving his luxury sedan too much since she knows how to break into it now. But he just ends it there and makes his way toward the car while she heads over to the other side. He stops while she falls down into the passenger seat.
She still doesn't know where they stand. They fought. Loudly. God, she was angry. He was so... arrogant and insulting. But a part of her feels it is deserved. Maybe if not for now, then for all the other times she was the arrogant and insulting one, knowing there have been times when he's just gritted his teeth against it and let it roll off his back. She closes her door and feels her heart slowly sink back down to where it was after the illation of getting the door open, to where it was going into the morgue the afternoon before.
When he finally falls down into the driver's seat, she sees he'd removed his black sweater, leaving him in a white t-shirt and his sweater balled up in his hand. He looks over to her and hands her the sweater.
She looks between him and the sweater, pausing for a moment. "What's this for?"
He gives her a light shrug. "It's not like either of us brought our own pillows and the seatbelt thing doesn't make for a good substitute."
Her heart flutters, more wildly than it should at the gesture, feeling a smile blossom onto her face for a second before she pulls it back. "Thanks." She says in a quiet tone, taking the sweater and holding it in her lap.
He sighs, closes his door, and starts the car, then after a few seconds, pulls out two candy bars, handing one of them to her. So enamored with his sweater, it takes her a second to see it. But when she looks up and sees the Three Musketeers bar, her favorite, being offered to her, she looks back over to him. "I said I didn't want anything."
"I know what you said." He says in a steady tone, holding out the candy bar a little closer to her.
She fights a smile, feels her eyes blow, feels her heart grow, and reaches for the candy bar. "Thank you... Rick."
He pauses, looking over to her eyes, sparkling against the yellow light of the streetlamps littering the parking lot of the deserted rest stop, hesitates, and stops short of saying it, but thinks it, thinks of their word, the one they both know, the one they've both said to reassure the other that things like this would pass and that it could happen as many times as the universe could hurl at them and they'd still come through.
He thinks it, but doesn't say it.
A/N: So, probably should have mentioned something about it in the last chapter to explain what might be slow updates during the week.
Got sick three weeks ago with covid, honestly wasn't that bad. But coughing that much, more than I have in a really long time, my body didn't like. Debilitating back pain for another week and a half, went back to work this week, extremely tired after ten hour shifts and really don't like to write tired since it shows up in the story. So my writing is basically reserved for Friday through Sunday. Thanks for being patient. Reviews are greatly appreciated. /=]