From behind, they looked like doppelgangers: leather breeches, riveted leather jackets, high lace-up cowboy boots, and colorful bandannas tied at the back of their heads, but only Beckett's petite frame and tight brown braid, the tip of which was securely fastened by a narrow strap, gave Beckett away.
- How do you see your future, Castle? What is your purpose in life?
It was Beckett's first phrase since Castle had treacherously "kidnapped" her from the porch of her own home a couple of hours earlier. Words that had long wished for a firm and clear answer; well, just as a sort of insight into the development of their relationship. If that was even possible. And Beckett hoped it was possible, and why not? There was nothing wrong with their close acquaintance so far, and Castle, after the trip to the dolphinarium and the scandal with Petar, seemed to her the sort of safe harbor to which her wobbly boat of fate would dock without fear. And while they, shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the cliff, furtively look at each other, but still shy to hold hands, you can hear and understand a lot here. There are no prying ears, which means that everything is so natural. As, in fact, is the place itself.
In front of them, below, the river stretched in saturated blue loops. Wiggling intricately among the many rounded islands, it cut the lush emerald floodplain to pieces, so much so that it seemed that no man had yet set foot on it. And all this boundless expanse belonged only to the wind. Hooligan and warm, with the freshness of the river and the scent of grass, the breeze fanned and ruffled the green tops, rippled the water with fine ripples, until it blew upward, to the people. It stroked Castle's unshaven cheeks, ruffled Kate's slightly careless bangs, as if engaging the girl in an uncomplicated game, and Beckett, in the end, could not stand it. She burst into the palm of her hand with a short, shy chuckle, casually tousled the strands that were growing into her eyes, and Castle, as if sweeping away an invisible veil, ran his palm lightly over her face. He clenched his fingers into a fist tightly, and with a light tap on his thigh let him know that he was open to any questioning.
- You know, I always wanted to help people. My mother taught me that since I was very young, and my father's genes had something to do with it, too. The only pity is that I do not know anything about him, but I believed and trusted my mother as myself. That one night was not spontaneous, they loved each other consciously, though they parted for many years. With longing, bitterness, and a timid hope of meeting, no matter what. And yet her mother could have put a fat end to their relationship; if only because she had every right to do so. For her father leaving without saying good-bye. For leaving her with practically no money and a baby in her arms. For disappearing from our lives for a long time, and to get me back on my feet, Mom sacrificed a lot, but... she wasn't offended by Dad, no. And even when my mother is angry at first and then sorry, looking into my eyes touchingly, I realize that her love for my father has not faded even over the decades. In fact, this whole story with Dad and his disappearance without a trace looks strange, to say the least. On all inquiries mom stoically silent, and I, barely on his feet, tried to make inquiries, but constantly stumbled into a blank wall of disinformation and sabotage. Eventually I gave up on it. I don't know whether I dared condemn my father, though some might say it was a vile, despicable thing that had happened, and that real men never do that. And that there was no excuse for such wrongdoing, and that such an ambitious, independent, and proud woman as my mother should have, must have, had to exorcise any memory of it. However, time has shown how much I was wrong in my displeasure and prejudice. I could tell at least by how tenderly, caringly, and secretly sadly my mother cared for me and Alexis. How finely her hands shake as my mother falters in my arms and falls into my chest and whispers softly, with tears in her voice: "Son!" How long and intently she looks at the sleeping me, and worries, and breathes hotly, intermittently, seeing in my features such a distant and so familiar face. And I know for sure that such touching moments speak of the eternal love that my mother loved my father, loves, and will always love. And there is absolutely nothing to deny, I have a very strong mother, but only the gods know what these frequent nightly vigils of hers cost her. How many times I would wake up at night and not find my mother in my bedroom. And so disheveled and frightened I would rush out to find her. I usually found her in the living room: she was sitting motionless at the table (I could see through the crack in the door!), crying softly. The light in the room was dimmed, my birth certificate in my hand, and my sad, unseeing gaze frozen at one point. There's an empty glass of wine on the table, a smoldering wax candle flickers, and my finger absent-mindedly slides across the smooth paper until it freezes on the "father" line. Then the mother excitedly covers her face with her hand, whispering something sad, sad, until, yet finding the strength to say loud and clear: "Thank you, dear, for your son! Thank you so much!"... and I would quietly go back to my place, proud to the top of my head. And I won't twist my heart if I say that since childhood I was instilled with independence and leadership qualities, which was not easy a priori. Yes, it was, and I was drowning in oceans of tears while my mother insisted that I had to, just had to become a person. I was guided, poked my nose, steadily increasing the level of knowledge, exhausted by constant physical exercises, as fathers usually do with children, and I thought in my youth that I was growing internally only because of my mother, but when I grew up, I unwittingly felt the invisible presence of my father next to me. You will say that this cannot be, that it is all fiction, nonsense, mysticism, and nothing else, but I believe in it sacredly. And I believe in a kindred spirit, too. That's why you were in my car for a reason, which I can neither explain nor confirm, but I can feel it. With this.
And Castle poked himself in the chest with his finger. He hesitated for a moment. The dead grass rustled, and, as if casually, he brushed the tip of his pinky finger along the graceful line of her hand. And Beckett involuntarily shuddered: once, twice, three times, and so did Castle. Heart shuddered at the timid touch, taking in the hitherto unknown sensation with such tiny but reverent pleasure, and Beckett shuddered her whole body, shrugged shakily, clenched her hand in a fist, but answered surprisingly evenly - and with a slight tinge of sarcasm in her voice:
- Hmm, Castle! And cleverly you go from a mental connection with your father to absolutely mundane things! - Kate rolled her eyes slyly. - Well, tell me something, boy: that's how they usually mess with gullible "dolls," isn't it? To twist them as you please? That's right, isn't it? I figured you out, didn't I? And no one can vouch for the strength of the relationship, but you're actually a master, Castle, and the prologue is a success! You've got the unusual introduction, the slight sheen of sympathy, the languid, heated glances, the unobtrusive but shivering touches, and... You'd think the girl would fall in love immediately, completely and irrevocably, but... what if she gets pestered and then thrown out like a worn-out thing, huh? They will give her a kick in the ass, will put her out of the door with shame, and also will disgrace her to the whole world! That's how it is - a woman's fiasco - and then don't tell me that waterfalls of girls' tears are no longer a problem in the world.
Castle frowned slightly in response, but didn't take his hand away at all, just pressed it to his thigh.
- I never overstep the line of impermissible, because already what is, in itself, is very valuable. And I know how to be satisfied with a little, but I never force events, even against my wishes. And if it takes an abrupt, permanent halt, for Alexis's sake, or my mother's, whatever, then I'll calm down. That's what steadfastly laid down right truths mean. I hope that was the answer to your question. What about... you? - Castle was a little embarrassed, and he shook his shoulder indefinitely.
Biting her lip slightly, Beckett hummed softly.
- You're weird and weird and I don't even know if you're ever serious or not, but you're simple and easy to deal with. Sometimes I think you can look all you want and talk all you want, but you're always yourself. Or is the lady genuinely mistaken?
- Thank you," thanked Castle briefly, and took a deep breath. - Is it wrong to be a healer of people's souls? And I would like to help you. I hope you are not tired of my company.
- I'm not, no. Don't worry, Castle. The girl will tell you when it's time to back off. And it won't come as long as I'm okay with it. Because, Castle, you have no idea what you've done for me even in the short time you've known me. When you, moreover, with such an infallible look, are smeared in the soul, and then, from head to toe, you are dumped in the dirt, I thought that I would never wash off again. And I was aching to dive into the ocean... Or fly up into the sky...
- ... Or just go to space...
- Well, yes, into space. I wanted to be alone. I wanted emptiness surrounding me until my ears hurt, and I wanted the sound of my breathing to be almost inaudible. In fact, I almost hated myself for my years of blindness and tolerance of Petar's antics, but it had to end sometime. Because I can't stand being wrong about people, and I hate falsity, deceit. Better the bitter but true than the sweet but false.
Rick sighed heavily in response and lowered his head.
- A lie is a sort of dishonorable shield against accumulated problems," he said in a strange, muffled voice. - And the inability and unwillingness to solve them.
- I don't believe you've never lied," Beckett stared at him, biting her lip, but Castle was frozen in the same pose. Only his lips moved:
- I won't make a pious assertion. I just try not to tell the whole truth. Especially when you're not asked.
- So you're a man of mystery? - Kate pressed, trying hard to hide her smile. - Just tell me then: when should I be afraid of you?
Castle shrugged indefinitely and brushed a non-existent speck out of the corner of his eye.
- Technically, never, but if you hear "apples-apples," be on your guard: something went wrong!
- What does that have to do with apples? - Beckett rounded her eyes in amazement: Among other things, Castle had a strange kind of logic, but it was as if Rick hadn't noticed anything. He was just being purposeful with his thoughts.
- It's my stop word... A kind of symbol of failure. Which can and should be overcome... Preferably together, - Castle turned his head sharply, and his eyes were completely serious. - If I suddenly needed help, could I count on you?
She hesitated for a while, without taking her eyes away, then smiled encouragingly.
- Always! And how soon would a girl be asked for it?
- Right today, now. When we go back. For educational, shall we say, purposes. And in order not to be afraid of the road in the future, you need to immerse yourself in the speed. Feel the wind on your face, feel the engine shudder beneath you. And those road posts that will flash before your eyes should not turn your head. Especially when you have someone to hold onto...
- What about you? What about you?
- I'd be there for you. As an instructor, as a partner, as a friend. And wouldn't that be against the rules? Against YOUR rules?
- By my side is ... behind my back, hugging me tightly, snuggling up against me? What if the girl doesn't want to yet?
- It's a simple routine, Kate, in which nothing is impossible. Especially when your dreams are finally coming true.
- I think somebody's really pushing things," Beckett cheekily bit her lip. - And what if things don't turn out the way they're supposed to?
It was Castle's turn to grin enigmatically.
- Then just trust me. Or forget all about this prelude to speed. But let's be honest: even at full throttle, even with the wind blowing into my dashboard, I only ever think about my passengers. For what it's worth...
- You're a dangerous man, Castle. - The soft and wide-open smile made Castle's chest twitch strangely. Why strange, though? When Kate is near him, his happiness soars to the seventh heaven, and compared to all the ladies he knows, and even more so to the emotional, uncompromising and capricious Arlette, with whom he is forced to be tied, Catherine Beckett is beyond competition. I wonder if she would mind an innocent kiss like that. A chaste kiss on the cheek, though, as a rule, he always acted bolder. But it would never work with Kate. And if he rushed in inappropriately, it was easy to scare her away, so easily and forever destroying the fragile bridges of trust that had barely been born between them. Perhaps this is just the road to his/her future happiness.
And after a brief hesitation, Castle made up his mind. He took Kate's hand again, staring intently eye-to-eye, as if he wanted to say something, but somehow he couldn't get a word out.
- What, Castle? - Beckett smiled softly and ran the back of her fingers along his cheekbone. Rick flinched as if he'd been electrocuted, and his eyes grew even bigger and darker.
- Nothing," he shrugged shyly. - Nothing," he shrugged shyly. "If I could, I'd throw the whole world at your feet.
- I don't even have a bag big enough to hold it all, but it's nice," and her eyes flew up to the sky. - And do you really feel that strong after all?
- Yes! There's one thing that makes us feel so zealously strong-it's... it's love... for our children...
Rick stopped talking and looked away with a sullen look. That Castle was easily embarrassed by his own revelation, Beckett easily sensed, and therefore secretly rewarded him for his endurance with a little secret bonus. For sure Castle wouldn't be cavalier or hurtful. And unlikely to follow her, coming from jealousy, and never say hurtful words to her. He's a broad soul, very broad, like that azure sky above her head, but she still needs a little more time to figure out eventually where they'll end up. Well, just a little more, just a little more. First the exam, the license, and then they could do "silly things. It is even possible that they will have a lot of "silly things". The kind that little kids don't dream about, but the big ones do.
With an uncertain hum, Beckett nudged Castle with her shoulder, gently released from his warm hand, and slowly rose to her feet, using her comrade's powerful shoulder as a support. Their bike stalled nearby: he was aiming his rounded, chrome "pupil" at the pair, and Beckett, circling the bike, climbed dashingly onto the back seat. She fidgeted, creaking her leathers mockingly, and waggled her eyes with a hint.
- Let's go, Castle, huh? Mandy and I still have shopping to do!
Castle bowed his head obediently. Without looking at Kate, he sprang up and sat down in front of her. Even before the engine rumbled, Beckett hugged Castle over her belt, and unashamedly pressed her cheek against his broad back. Dreamily she shifted her eyes, and her contented smile clearly reflected the full range of her feelings.
"It's so goddamn great with him! But, devil... I mean, I haven't even found out if he has someone!"...
...She wasn't walking to class, she was flying: she hadn't felt such a powerful rush of energy in a long time! That reverse "adrenaline" race of theirs, and the noise of the excellent mood in her ears. And how, saying goodbye, Castle looked at her! How he looked! Literally drowning in his eyes, but still cautious in his actions and words. Which Beckett even liked. And the occupation promised to be marvelous.
Here was the familiar door. When Kate entered the lobby, the first thing she saw near the construction site was Alexis: she was sadly looking at a bitten donut and sighing heavily, like an adult. And Beckett immediately felt some discomfort in herself.
- Hello, Pumpkin! - cheerfully greeted Kate, lingering opposite the girl. - What's up?
- Arlette showed up," the girl said in a mature voice of displeasure, and waved her hand toward the exit to the track, her back to Castle, and in front of him, a slim brunette in a biker suit: leather jacket, breeches, lace-up military boots. Pretty girl in her own right: short stylish bangs, rich brown hair, neat bob nose, and haughtily pressed lips of the statue of cold beauty - she supported the crudely painted helmet on the bend of her elbow and said something to Castle straight in her face. Her lips curved contemptuously, but Castle only twisted his head stubbornly. Beckett, naturally, he did not see, but of her former complacency there was no trace.
- Interesting picture! - Beckett muttered in a sneer. - Well, what have we here, eh?
Pumpkin did not react to the sarcastic tone and explained simply:
- And my dad met her at a biker convention a year ago. Do you have a bike?
Watching the brunette rest her hand on Castle's chest, Kate didn't answer right away.
- Yes, my dad gave it to me for my 18th birthday," Beckett greedily absorbed the slightest movement of the couple. - But it's standing in the garage, waiting for my license. What don't you like about Arlette? Does she treat you badly?
- I just don't like her, that's all, because nobody can replace my mother. And we hardly ever play with her, because Daddy wouldn't invite her home. We used to go for walks in the park. But she doesn't know how to treat me. And she doesn't know any fairy tales.
- I see! - Beckett straightened to her full height and tensely squinted her eyes: Castle was approaching them, and the brunette was hanging on his arm.
- Hello, Mr. Castle! - Kate said a dry hello when they stopped two steps away from her. - And how was your day?
- Uh, it was. And hello, Kate! - Rick was genuinely delighted, and his eyes flashed with joy, but immediately went out when they met her cold gaze. And it did not take a seer to understand her state of mind, so Castle gently released from the embrace of the brunette.
- I'm sorry," he said firmly, "but I have class.
In response, Arlette instantly flared up, flashing her eyes angrily, her head thrown up proudly, her nostrils flared like a hunted horse.
- Have you gone mad? With the bimbo?" and the brunette snorted contemptuously, "And what kind of pupils do you choose, eh? And why haven't you said anything yet? Castle!
Rick furrowed his brow at the thought that one more word and he would choke Arlette with his knee.
- This is none of your business! I do not discuss my clients with others, I have no right!
- Pst! - With a deft, practiced motion, Arlette slipped her helmet on, securing her visor. - I'm the other one? You take too much on yourself, Rickie, and you cross the line! I'll tell Louie, and he'll tell you to go to hell! Do you know what that would do to you?
- I know," Castle pressed his lips together, "but I've made up my mind.
- All right! - Arlette yanked the zipper so sharply that Rachel even jumped up from her seat. And the brunette turned abruptly and, without saying goodbye, flew toward the exit, showering Beckett with a luscious cloud of perfume.
The door slammed loudly, and Kate stood, fingering the strap of her bag, staring at Castle in bewilderment. Now it was as if she'd been whipped, and what she thought of him and herself was, in fact, a fake! And she'd been warned about divorced men, even if hypothetically famous in the future. And Petar, damn him, had warned her, and she... Damn it, how could she have missed so much, huh? Melted, melted like a lump of sugar in hot tea, drowned in the beguiling, enchanting, bottomless eyes of this wordy instructor with the look and demeanor of a child. And it couldn't have been any other way. Castle is single and free, and seems determined to take advantage of her, it's clear what for, but Alexis...
Without even noticing it, Kate grew to the girl's heart, and the girl, feeling the kindness and affection, herself stretched to her, as young shoots to the life-giving Sun. And they would all be difficult, very difficult: she and Alexis, and Castle, but she must, will be able to cope. She's always been able to cope with problems like this. Of course, not going to be rude, but firmly mark the line, whatever Castle told her. And to any of his words (except those that are solely for business!) will be critical. In fact, is it worth studying today? Maybe she should just blow it off and go to Trixie's party. It was unlikely that the party would be over before tomorrow morning, and after a couple of glasses of stiff cocktails, she might even allow one of the guys to put a hand on her shoulder or even offer her cheek for an innocent kiss. So, do or don't?
Kate glanced at Castle, looking lost with his hands down. He wasn't looking at the door Arlette had rushed out, he was looking at her and seemed to be reading on her impenetrable face all the answers to his questions. He was definitely waiting for her, and his gaze was not one of gaily mocking or mischievous, but one of lost, guilty, and... hoping for who knows what. Rick seemed uncomfortable and hurt, and in a situation like this, looks were all that mattered. Words can seem false, gestures are of no use, and her feminine intuition is frozen as an elastic clot between those lemon walls and afraid to move. Afraid? Well, no! Kate dropped her chin proudly and clenched her eyebrows determinedly. She would roll out those miserable two hours and their interaction would be short and businesslike and even aloof, and then...then she would go to Trixie's. Tomorrow was Saturday, no extracurriculars, and there would be plenty of time for sleep.
