She makes sure her face shows no sign that she's been crying. Scrubbing her face with her palms vigorously feels pretty safe, the vast majority of her makeup is gone anyway.
A part of it is because she doesn't want to show that she's getting that emotional over something when they just arrived, but most of it is because despite everything she did to push him this far, her attitude that night when he opened that bottle of lotion for her, and his clearly still being closed off, if a bit mad about something... he'll still ask if she's okay in that same caring voice that made her walls melt nearly every time, if only briefly before they were together.
And he was right, she's too tired for that right now.
Kate clears her throat, testing her voice with the action, slides the door to the balcony closed behind her and slowly, maybe unenthusiastically, walks through the suite toward the open doors to the bedroom. She makes it to the entrance after some very long, slow few steps through the large, open space and takes a quick survey of the room to find him. After a few seconds, the door to the bathroom on the other side of the room opens, the soft sound of the toilet hissing in the background. She gasps, her throat catching and heart squeezing for an instant.
He's right in the middle of pulling a fresh t-shirt over his chest. All she can do is stand motionless as he tugs the black cotton over himself too quickly. When he turns to head for the corner of the room where he put their suitcases and reaches to his back to pull the rest of his shirt down, she can see his back muscles ripple and tighten under the shirt that was probably washed not too long before packing it. It's still taught against his broad shoulders, biceps, and chest.
She can almost feel herself breaking out in a sweat watching him. It's been so long.
He also decided to change out of his slacks and into a pair of his designer jeans. It takes all her fortitude to look away just in time while he turns around and starts to rearrange things in his suitcase that sits on top of one of the stands, his back facing her.
It's been really long.
She looks down to the carpet and puts her hands on the back of her waist, slowly pacing her way into the bedroom and around the bed. Rick is just standing up from closing his suitcase and putting it on the floor to turn and see her, her head bowed low. He waits for a few moments, watching her take a few more slow, seemingly aimless steps around the foot of the bed, her head still down.
"Everything okay?" He asks, still standing next to his suitcase.
She stops mid-stride, her head jolting up to find his eyes. That tone, that caring tone, the slight worry and concern that comes through as the pitch in his voice lifts when he says it. It's exactly what she was trying to avoid. She forces a small smile, offering a small nod before looking away. "Fine." She lies. She knows he's examining her honesty right now, he always does when she brushes him off. He only asks that in that tone when he knows for a fact something isn't okay. And sure enough, when her eyes flick back over to him, he's looking back with a slight lift in his brow. "You're right, I'm just pretty tired. I was at the precinct all day and..." she drags her words, "... and driving."
Rick closes his lips. "I know the thing to do is usually test out the bed first but..." he says in a light tone, a part of him hoping a small bit of his usual humor might at least put her in a better mood, "I was thinking we just try the nap test."
She looks up to him again after letting her eyes wander and gives him the same smile she gives him when one of his jokes actually manages to sneak past one of her scoffs and eye rolls. Sashaying away slightly, She fights the smile at the corners of her lips and turns to continue pacing around the bed to claim her usual side. He's much quicker in his stride, walking around the bed in his usual confident, bravado gate. Kate stops at the edge of the bed and sits down, putting her hands in the comforter. It's so much softer than either of theirs. She has to take a moment to squeeze her fingers into it a few times, then rub her palms against it in reverence, the feeling throwing a brief veil of serenity over everything else she's fighting with.
She doesn't even feel the other side of the bed move when he sits down, but only knows when he does by the soft sigh that comes out of him. She looks over her shoulder and sees he simply decided to plop down onto the bed on his back. She looks away after she sees him already close his eyes. This bed is so big, they're so far apart compared to sleeping in their own beds. Usually, she could lie on her back on her side of the bed and all it would take to cuddle into his side was just to roll onto her side and wrap her arm around his chest. Now... she'd have to lay down and practically army crawl to get over to him.
It's then that the picture gets stuck in her mind again. Those dull, lifeless smiles. It's making her stomach churn.
On a shaky breath, she lays down on her side, her back facing him, and soon falls asleep.
Everything is pretty much done. He just wants the eggs to be last so they can still be warm. He thought she'd be up before he was. She slept pretty soundly on the drive up before the twisting road stirred her out of it. But he knew he was going to have trouble sleeping, even before they started the drive up here. He's always had some measure of difficulty sleeping when he's' lying next to a woman he's fighting with.
On a hard sigh, turning the burner on the stove down even lower to very slowly stir and mix the eggs in the skillet, then reaches behind him to grab his phone off the island counter. It's late afternoon, she should be home by now. Going back to the stove, he quickly starts the call and puts the wooden spoon back into the eggs. "Hi Daddy." A cheery voice says.
It's the first real, full, heartwarming smile he's felt grow on his features in a while. "Hey pumpkin." He says back to his daughter, quietly so's to not wake Beckett up.
"So I heard Beckett kidnapped you." Alexis jokes.
Rick leans back, giving her an obvious smile over the line. "She uh... commandeered me." Alexis chuckles heartily. "Didn't even give me a chance to say goodbye or anything. How are you, sweetie?"
Chuckling again, "I'm fine, Dad." She answers obviously. "Gram and I stayed up last night-"
"Using up all the stuff in the fridge for things not having anything to do with food." He finishes. Alexis scoffs on yet another chuckle. "I know all about what's in those facial masks you put on. You know, in the medieval days, they'd accuse you of witchcraft."
After another few soft chuckles, her dad still finally smiling naturally, the spoon still slowly turning and mixing the eggs, she starts. "So how's the trip so far?" She asks, her tone somber, seeming to know what to expect.
On a hard, inaudible sigh, Rick runs the spoon through the thick scrambled eggs one last time before turning the stove to the lowest setting to keep warm. "I've been on trips like this before, Alexis." He says, moving away from the stove, out of the kitchen, and slowing his pace across the floor when he approaches the cracked door to the bedroom to check if she's still asleep.
"Dad, this is Beckett." His daughter fires back in a soft argument.
He sees the soft, slow rise and fall of her shoulder and pads away from the door back toward the kitchen and chuckles. "Who else would I be here with?"
"Well, I remember you and Gina traveled a lot but Beckett's different."
Rick chuckles darkly and leans back against the island, his back facing the door to the bedroom. "Alexis, the only reason I went with Gina on all those trips was because she knew I wouldn't just give her my bank card so she could just go by herself." Alexis breathes a sigh on the other end of the line. "A weird coincidence since she traveled quite a bit on all the alimony I was paying her after we got divorced."
"I thought you two settled that?"
"We did." Rick says in a light tone. "We settled it when we went to The Hampton's that summer." He tells her matter-of-factly.
"Oh yeah."
"Thing is... ever since we broke up," he continues on a chuckle, "she thinks I took her up to The Hampton's to seduce her into dropping the alimony payments."
Alexis laughs brightly. "Seriously?" Her father laughs softly. "You didn't, did you?"
"Of course not!" He says quietly but incredulously. "But it worked."
"Dad!" Alexis laughs, causing a pause in the conversation that lasts a long while. Alexis is the one to continue. "You... you don't think Beckett took you up there to seduce you into anything, do you?" He doesn't answer. "Because that really doesn't sound like her."
"Well," he says, looking over his shoulder toward the bedroom door again, "the lodge is amazing, the view from the suite is beautiful, and the list of activities on offer are pretty good." He says on another hard sigh. "Including... this coincidentally being the start of a couples therapy retreat."
There's another pause on her end of the line. "A couples retreat?"
"Yep," he says, his tone ebbing with an undercurrent of anger. "A full two weeks of couples counseling, therapy sessions, both together and one on one," he says with a click of his jaw and a tensing of his muscles, "group sessions, listening exercises, everything you could possibly imagine to make me look like the bad guy."
"Wait," Alexis stops him, "didn't you and Gina go to marriage counseling?"
"And are Gina and I still married?" He asks his daughter obviously. When his question gives the answer, he continues, shoving off the counter. "Listen... I'm not saying all of these couples counselor people are the same, but we cycled through enough of them for me to know how they work."
"Dad, you sound uncharacteristically cynical about this." Alexis chuckles.
"Maybe that's because out of the ones Gina and I went to, the ones that weren't ready to string me up in the town square and brandish me with all the awful crimes I committed against my perfect, can-do-no-wrong wife were the ones that were actively trying to break us up so they could have her." Alexis just sighs. "And it worked since we got divorced after the last guy we saw."
But Alexis fights back. "And how do you know that's what he was trying to do?"
Rick is quick with an answer. "Because Gina brought him along on a trip to Aspen once the first alimony check cleared."
That sends another ripple through the conversation. It'd probably be now when Alexis just stops talking and puts her arms around her dad. He doesn't really like unloading all this stuff on his daughter. He was always very, very careful when going through everything his ex-wives put him through not to use his daughter as an emotional washcloth, constantly spewing all his emotional baggage onto a little girl that shouldn't have to deal with any of it. And he's careful to do the same now.
He's not going to use his daughter to go on about how he really feels deep down about everything going on with him and Kate. She doesn't need all those doubts and insecurities levied on her, least of all from her own father.
"But Dad," Alexis continues after another very long pause, "Beckett isn't Gina."
That's something he would say. It makes him smile a tiny bit. "I know, Alexis." He tells her, crossing his arms. "Maybe she didn't know about the couples therapy thing." He says out loud for the first time. "She's never been the scheming, plotting type, after all."
Alexis chuckles softly. "Except for your birthday."
He chuckles with her, the memory coming back to him.
But it's quick to fade as more soon rear around.
And lying to him about her shooting... looking him in the eye for a whole year and lying to him, so easily.
And Vaughn... accusing him of taking her for granted and not paying enough attention to her right as he shows up. Then so easily agreeing to be put with him... alone in a hotel... leaving him to broil and fester in his own jealousy and guilt and shame and worry... knowing he was standing literal inches away from her when her and Lanie all but drooled all over him. Practically flashing and parading how amazing Vaughn was directly in front of his face right after saying he's just another lazy, pathetic loser that doesn't deserve her. That she only ever deserves the absolute pinnacle of perfection and he isn't it and never could be. Like going to stay with him in that hotel was some sick punishment, knowing exactly how he felt.
His muscles are on fire. His teeth are gnashing. His jaw is tense. His fist feels ready to ram through the first surface he sees, he's so angry. "Listen, sweetie, I've gotta go, okay?" He says quickly, not wanting her exposed to this.
"Oh... okay, Dad." She says, seeming confused. "Try to have fun?"
"I will. I love you, pumpkin." He says in a hard voice. He ends the call, his hand tightening around his phone, hard. So hard, he can hear the seems of the plastic under the casing want to come apart.
She stirs, her head seeming to sway slowly in the large, plush pillow. "Mmm..." she moans, her body not accepting she's awake.
She really was tired, she thinks as she closes her eyes again after only cracking them a second. But after a few long moments of breathing into the cool fabric of the soft pillowcase, her body catches up and she starts to wake up. Another few moments, her eyes open fully, blinking to test their lethargy, she pulls her head off the pillow once then lets it fall back down, pulling the soft, dark blue felt blanket over her just a little more.
Kate draws in a yawn, stretches her limbs, then lets her entire body relax, taking a long breath in through her nose and letting it out.
It's when her senses catch the strong whiff of food that her head jumps off the bed. She pushes up off the bed, tosses the blanket aside, and searches for it again. Syrup... butter, maybe hashbrowns, bacon... and eggs. His scrambled eggs. She'd know the scent anywhere. It's the first scent she woke up to the first morning of her suspension. A smile blooms across her face and she jumps off the bed, quickly going into the bathroom.
The tilework is a cool, warm tone of tan and dark brown, weaving together along the floor and halfway up the wall, then an inviting dark burgundy going up the rest of the way and up the ceiling. The his' and her's sinks sit in between the toilet in the far corner, and the large, spacious shower directly in front of the door, the walls and door frosted glass. Taking quick survey of the bathroom, she smiles again and quickly makes for the far corner.
After another minute, she goes back out into the bedroom and smells the aroma of his cooking again. She loves it when he cooks. Breakfast is probably his best field. It reminds her so much of her mother.
Kate is quickly making for the doors that lead to the kitchen when she hears the faint sound of his voice and slows. "Maybe she didn't..." is all she can make out from this distance, so she slowly and quietly creeps closer, putting her ear to the small crack in between the doors. "She's never been the scheming, plotting type, after all." She can hear him say clearly.
Her heart skips, breath following close behind.
She knew it. She knew he thought she had some trick up her sleeve, some plot behind all this, probably to do him in. Bringing him here, to absolute paradise, to scheme and plot and plan against him.
It doesn't anger her, doesn't frustrate or infuriate her, like it would with any of her old boyfriends. With Rick... him thinking this just... breaks her heart. They used to trust each other. They used to have a connection.
She shakes her head. He said you're not the type, Kate, she thinks over and over again to herself, her hand on the opening of the door, ready to pull it open. After another few seconds, her body feeling dizzy from the conflict inside of her, she hears the unmistakable sound of his low, gruff chuckle. It makes her smile, despite everything. She pulls the door open just a bit and peers through, seeing the still taught fabric of his black t-shirt stretch across his broad shoulders and back as he crosses his arms, one hand up to his ear holding his phone. He wouldn't be on the phone talking to anyone from the precinct about them. And that low chuckle wouldn't come from anything his mother would say. He's talking to Alexis.
She watches up, another warm smile coming over her, thinking of the great father he is. But it only lasts a moment before he's speaking again, his voice suddenly hard, rushed, and frustrated. "Listen, sweetie, I've gotta go, okay?"
Her eyes dart around him, searching for what set him off. It's another quick few seconds before he uses the same voice to tell his daughter he loves her and hangs up. When he pulls his phone from his ear... she can see his knuckles whiten from here. He looks ready to send his fist into the first thing he sees. It takes him another few long seconds to set his phone down to the island counter he's leaning back against and audibly breathe heavily. She watches as he shoves off the counter, runs both hands through his hair roughly, and reaches into one of the cupboards above the stove to grab two clear blue glass plates.
Kate takes that as her cue.
She takes a few steps away from the door, then starts towards it again and pulls it open as naturally as she can. She catches his eye just as he's taking the skillet full of his scrambled eggs away from the stove and setting it down to the island along with everything else. "Hey," he says, sounding his usual self.
Looking at the spread of a large plate of still-warm bacon, then a large helping of hashbrowns next to it, some toast on another small saucer, a bowl of sliced up apples, oranges, and grapes, then a large skillet of his scrambled eggs, which he's perfected the recipe specifically for her, over the long course of two months of trial and error during her suspension. She'd know the scent anywhere. And even after everything she just watched him go through... she feels her heart melt.
She loves him so much.
Still with two plates in his hands, he looks at her and shrugs. "I figured," he starts, meandering back toward the island, "neither of us has really eaten since Manhattan, and the fridge already had everything I needed."
She gives him a smirk, crosses her arms, and heads for the island slowly. "Well, Castle, you know how much I love your breakfasts, but it's three o'clock in the afternoon."
"I'm aware of that." He shrugs again before sliding one plate down on his side and reaching over to slide one down on hers. "But we both just slept for a little over five hours, you a bit longer. I think that qualifies as a full night's sleep, despite it being mid-afternoon."
She fights to keep her smirk a smirk and keeps slowly pacing toward the island until she's just a foot away from the counter. "Are those the scrambled eggs you make at home?" She nods toward the skillet in excitement.
"They are." He nods slowly, leaning with his arms spread down against the counter to support his weight. And he watches as she eyes the skillet and her smirk finally gives way into a smile that she tries to hide by looking down to the floor and dragging her finger behind her ear. "But uh..." he continues, gaining her eyes again, "the coffee they had stocked smelled awful and they didn't have the creamer you like so... why don't you go over and pick out a wine from the bar until we get the chance to stock up."
Kate actually loves that idea. Maybe a glass of wine is what she needs, what both of them need, to keep this draining back and forth at bay, one minute sad and depressed, the next light-hearted and hopeful, and the very next angry and frustrated.
She moves quickly behind the bar and grabs two goblets that hand upside down from the hanger and then heads for the wine selection. She drags her fingers across the labels and finds one that draws her attention. She remembers this one. This is the one he picked for them for their night together in The Hampton's. With another warm smile, she takes the bottle, pours two glasses on the bar, and heads back around carrying the goblets just in time for him to be dishing out the food onto the plates.
"So, did you get a chance to look over the packet?" She asks, trying to spark conversation about their trip, planning activities, what they want to do together.
"Yeah, I did." He says in just a casual of a tone as he slides her plate over to her side first. He waits for her to sit in one of the stools on her side of the island in front of her plate, then waits for her to set the two goblets of wine down, reaching one over to him, then waiting still for her to take a sip. "I'm especially excited for the couples therapy." His tone takes a dark shift.
She was close to choking and spitting up her wine, if she'd not swallowed it just a second sooner. It still went down very hard as her breath caught going down. She covers her mouth, with the back of her hand, shaking her head and trying to catch her breath. "I'm sorry..." she says hoarsely, "couples therapy?" She asks, the pitch in her voice rising high.
"Yeah," he shrugs, turning away, "the... couples therapy and counseling retreat that's starting today." All she does is stare at him with a knit in her brow and wide eyes. He turns back around with a dark glare in his lidded gaze. "The first meeting and orientation was this morning in the auditorium, but I guess we slept through it."
She's confused. Very confused. She feels like she should be catching something, but she's not. "Okay," she says quickly and stands up off the stool, "what are you talking about, Castle? What couples retreat?"
His dark, lidded gaze doesn't shift, but his jaw tenses as he slowly starts to approach her. "There's a couples therapy and relationship counseling event here for the next two weeks and we just coincidentally arrive here on the first day?"
She's never been the scheming, plotting type, after all. His words ring in her head, making everything click. She stares at him with the same unbelieving expression. "You think I brought us here for a couples therapy retreat?"
"Far be it from me to believe in the occasional conspiracy, but I find it pretty hard to think otherwise." He fires off.
"Castle, I had no idea about some couples retreat until you mentioned it!" She fires right back. He just stares at her. "I got the name of this place from Gates when I asked for personal leave. Then I went home and booked the reservation. That's... it!"
"So this relationship counseling thing had nothing to do with you bringing us up here then?" He demands, looking her straight in the eye.
But she never looks away, feeling her emotions well up inside of her again. "You don't know why I brought us up here." She says plainly, her voice on the verge of breaking near the end.
"Honestly, no. Maybe..." he says back quickly, still fighting, "maybe if it's not for this therapy thing, then it's... it's some plan to try to train me and change me into someone you can be happy with or... or maybe you're using this as some final celebration before you finally do leave, I don't know."
He's so angry. So cynical. Did she do this? He was never this way before. He never thought she'd do anything even close to that before. She tenses her jaw and reaches into her pocket. "You wanna know why I really brought us up here?" She asks him seriously, her voice tight, unlocking her phone at her side.
He just watches as she looks down to her phone for a few seconds, then looks back up to him, showing him her screen. "This is the picture I took of us this morning when we first got here." He looks at the picture, seeing them next to each other but not taking in the detail. After staring at it silently for a long few seconds, she decides to continue. Kate takes her phone back for a second, swiping her thumb across the screen just once before showing it to him again. "And this..." she says, showing him the picture and pausing, making sure he looks at it.
Which he does. Very... very intently. It catches him off guard. They look... so...
She sees his expression change, the armor of anger and arsenal of accusations falling. "This was last month... two days after I told you that I love you for the first time."
His eyes can't leave the picture on her phone. He remembers this. He was feeling playful and put a large drop of flour on her nose while they were cooking, which led to them having to clean up most of the kitchen and not getting any cooking done. He can still feel her perfect body jump in his arms as she giggled and laughed so hard, still feel the warmth of her neck on his face as he brought her in from the side, still feel her slender fingers in his hair, pulling his face closer to her.
Kate waits for a long time, seeing his expression slowly give way. "I want this back, Rick."
Her voice draws his eyes away from the screen and back to her.
"This is why I brought us up here, to get this back!" She tells him emotionally, shaking her phone before sending it down to the counter. They stare at each other for another long moment. "You may not realize this, Rick," her voice is cracking, "but I've never had this before!" She says, her voice now soiled. "I've never been in a relationship like this before, so I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what to do, so I need your help!"
His mouth moves to respond, his brow now soft and arched, wanting to express... anything. But he can't.
"I didn't bring us up here for some stupid couples therapy thing, I didn't bring us up here as some last hooray, and sure as hell didn't bring us up here to change you!" She emotionally exclaims. "The only reason I brought us up here is because I don't want to lose you." Her voice softens, never looking away from him. "And I know for a fact you don't want to lose me either."
"How?" He lets fall, his voice barely there, weak.
She's quick with a response. "Because I saw the look on your face when you saw my suitcase open on the bed and you thought I was leaving you."
She's... she's right.
Rick lets his head fall forward and there's a thick silence that falls over them. He feels so small.
Kate feels her heart take the lead, speaking softly. "I can't promise we won't fight or argue, because we will. And I can't promise we'll get everything solved in a week, or two weeks, or even three, because I don't know how much we have to fight about. But what I am promising..." she pauses, waiting for his eyes, which he gives her after a pause, "is the only way we're leaving here is when we're the couple in that picture again... because I'm not leaving until we are."
Rick feels his insides churn with guilt, accusing her of that much, throwing that much in her face. "Okay."
She gives him a stern nod and straightens her shoulders. "Now... usually I'd just take one from you and wouldn't have to ask but..." she says, looking at his chest. "I could really use a hug right now."
She has to ask... she's right. They shouldn't be like this.
He shakes his head to himself in the same motion he uses to step forward and engulf her in his arms, wrapping her up and pulling her into him. She flings her arms around his chest harder than she anticipated, hearing the thud of her balled up fists hit the firm muscles of his back. She squeezes him, hard, as hard as she can, putting her cheek to his chest, facing the island. His long breath out blows down and across her hair, making her pull herself into him even closer.
"Our first fight isn't going to be over us letting my scrambled eggs get cold, is it?"
"T'ha!" She spurts out a loud laugh against him. She slowly weaves her arms out from around him, her hands taking their time to slide across his body, over his sides, up his stomach and chest. "No, it's not."
A/N: Did you catch it? Huh? Huh, did'ja? That small thing I did? Did'ja!?
Long one, huh? Hope you liked it. Let me know /=P
A/N: Okay, I'll give you a small hint. Nap before... then after. .