Chapter 2

More bleary than reluctant, though the scale was nearly balanced, Kate had nothing but a gym bag over her shoulder when she showed up at the loft, and for all she knew as she stood there at his door, that bag and its meager contents were all she had left in the world. She couldn't even begin to process what that meant, or the weight of it. She knew she hurt. Hurt was certain.

Rick opened when she finally pressed the buzzer-an act of some deliberation, to be sure-his eyes telling a story of surprise, somehow more so than her own. Three years with her had taught him better than to expect an outstretched hand, even a hand reaching out for one offered; yet there she was, taking his.

"I didn't think you'd actually come," he said, verbalizing what she could already see.

"Neither did I, honestly." He stepped aside, invited her in. "A red cast, Castle? Really?" She shook her head as she passed, muttered something to herself about how she should've guessed. "How does it feel?"

With a "Pfft," Rick shifted again into downplaying mode. "This thing? This is nothing. I'm fine. You should see the other guy, though."

Kate slowly came around. "You mean my floor? The one you tripped over your own feet and wiped out on?"

"Excuse me, Detective. Fact check alert." He pushed the door and let it slam shut, stepped up close. "There was no tripping. There was no wiping out. There was plenty of heroic me, however, and your front door definitely lost the fight."

Kate rolled on her heels, walked over to the breakfast bar, and set her bag down. "Pretty big talk for defeating an inanimate object, Castle. If you ever want to, you know, show me how it's done, let me know," she mocked. "Where are Martha and Alexis?"

"They took a walk down to the market to grab a few things. We figured if you showed up, you'd probably need toiletries and stuff, and we didn't have a lot of extra laying around. They were going to pick up some food for breakfast, too." He immediately put a hand up to preemptively silence what he knew was coming. "It's not too much, Beckett. It's toothpaste. It's eggs."

Her chin had already dropped before he said anything. It felt like too much, or a lot, odd if nothing else. She hadn't imagined the first night she'd find herself there to stay would come by way of a madman's timetable and not her own. Hell, the fact that she'd imagined it at all and now found herself there had her riled enough as it was. But she had imagined, often.

"It'll just be for a night or two, Castle. I'll figure something out."

"Beckett. Kate," he tried when at first she didn't raise her eyes to him. "This place is your place, for as long as you need it. We-all of us-want you to know that." Standing in front of her, he perched his elbow up on the bar, gave her a once-over. "Because I know you as well as I do, I can say this with some confidence. I'd guess being here might just be more difficult for you than having your apartment destroyed by a bomb. You're a fascinating creature, Katherine Beckett. How did I get so lucky?"

How did I get so lucky? she thought but didn't say. There were times when that feeling seemed stronger than her fight, times when she wanted so desperately to let it overtake her, to let herself say and do all the things she wanted to say and do.

"Think you know, Castle," she countered, though he was right. That was how they played their game, after all. "But thank you, for having me here and for fighting my door."

Their shared smile was broken up by the return of Martha and Alexis, who walked in together giggling like a couple of schoolgirls, voices elevated, bags in hand.

"Home from successful battle," Martha exclaimed, raising her loot up high. "And there she is. Hello, Katherine, darling." She set the bags on the floor where she stood, marched straight for Kate, and wrapped her up in a hug. "Dreadful, just dreadful. We're so relieved you're all right. And my god look at you." She took her cheeks in her hands. "Gorgeous, even after all of this terrible business."

The woman had a personality that could overwhelm a barreling hurricane, Kate knew, so that it was she who had her on the verge of tears for the first time that night was of no surprise. "Thank you, Martha. I'm sorry you had to go back out just for me. Hey, Alexis," she added when the girl touched her sweetly on the arm as she walked by.

"Oh, don't be silly. You know we'd do anything for you." Kate believed that. "Alexis, grab those shortbread cookies we just bought from the bag, won't you?" Alexis was already in the kitchen unloading everything. "Richard, did you offer Katherine some tea?"

"Not yet, Mother, no," he answered, which was a mistake he realized too late.

"Honestly, you weren't raised by wolves. Where are the manners?" she shrugged.

Kate's eyes shot Rick's way. His were practically rolling out of his head. "It's fine, Martha, really. I just got here a couple of minutes ago."

Martha went around the bar into the kitchen, gave Rick a bump of the hip. "She's going easy on you, taking pity on you in your wounded state. That's a nice girl."

"She can take anything she wants on me," he replied casually, pulling down a couple of tea tins from the cabinet. "Or off me, actually." He looked up, found Kate. "I've made that clear, right?" he asked with a wink in his voice. "Earl grey or chamomile?"

"Either's fine, thanks." She let the other comment go, for any number of reasons. "But you really don't have to go to any trouble, you guys. I know it's late."

"That's enough, Katherine," Martha admonished. "There is no trouble to be found here. We'll all sit, relax, enjoy a cup of tea and some cookies, and then Alexis and I will leave the two of you to… whatever, all right?"

Kate felt a rush of warmth travel across her neck, felt it climb up into her cheeks and settle. Where her mind had gone with the spark of such a harmless word as 'whatever' had her promptly flustered.

"Beckett?" Rick tilted his head in concern. "Beckett, are you okay? It seemed like you went off somewhere just now," he told her when she snapped back in. Martha and Alexis were already gathered on the sofa. She'd missed when that'd happened. "Water's on. Go, sit. I'll bring it over."

"Yeah," she said. "Okay."

It certainly was odd if nothing else.

xxxx

Kate let her head fall back against the sofa cushion, draped an arm across her eyes. The bridge between the way her day had begun and the way it was coming to an end seemed an unimaginable design, one for which even a sketch would've seemed too absurd, one better suited for the world of Richard Castle fiction.

He was seated there beside her, near but not close. A pillow rested between them-his doing, not hers, surprisingly-and she'd wondered more than once since it appeared there if he'd placed it purposefully. Either way, the image struck her funny. There'd always been something between them, something just as tangible.

"We don't need to watch the end of this. I'm sorry. I'm keeping you up," Rick said, pausing the movie they'd all started together before the others had made their exit. "If there's anything else you need or something you can't find, let me know. I think I'm going to stay up for a while. Believe it or not, I'm kind of wired."

"I believe it. You're a strange man." She sat up, shook a hand through her hair. "Castle, what you did earlier," she began in heavier tone, "coming to find me, putting yourself at risk. It was stupid, and I know a thank you isn't nearly enough, but thank you."

Rick swiped the pillow and dropped it into his lap. "What can I say? Your life is one of my favorite lives. I mean in general, but also to save. It's kind of fun to imagine you thinking you owe me. I've kept a list of your debts, by the way. It's exceptionally long."

She fought a smile. "That's what she said."

"Ah, nicely played, Detective. So, I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

Kate nodded and got up, made her way to the stairs. She was very nearly at the top when he called to her from below.

"I feel like staying up and drinking too much. Do you feel like staying up and drinking too much with me?"

She looked back over her shoulder without a second's hesitation. "I definitely do," she said and headed straight back down.

Little more than an hour later, they were both at the finish line of their third round of scotch, and it was going down smooth and easy. A light was on in his office in the distance, and the fireplace was on as well, but Rick had darkened the place otherwise. Martha and Alexis had already been tucked away for a couple of hours and hadn't made a peep.

"Any woman who can drink me scotch for scotch is a damn sexy woman." With his weak hand, Rick tipped the bottle, poured another good splash into each of their glasses, inadvertently left some on the table. "I hope you don't mind me saying."

Kate peeked at him over the rim she held to her lips. "I don't. Clearly that surprises you," she went on when he craned his brow.

She was the first to bow out when their eyes lingered too long, but a very Nikki Heat/Jameson Rook-like scenario was quietly beginning to play out in a corner of her mind she always fought to keep behind locked door. She'd read the book, the tale of their fictional counterparts' first night together. She'd read it quite a few times. It might've been the booze that turned the key that night. It might've been the seconds from death. Whatever it was, the visions were suddenly free to roam and they were enjoying their freedom.

"I guess maybe it does. From you, I would've expected a punch line to a comment like that. Maybe we should drink too much together more often. I have a whole bunch of things I'd like to try to get away with saying."

She set her glass back on the table, kicked her feet up beside it. "I hope you always check their IDs before you offer them alcohol, Castle," she gave with a grin, punctuated it with a half giggle.

"There, see? Don't be mean, especially after a day like today. We're having a perfectly nice time drowning our sorrows."

They were, and Kate knew he was the only one that could've made her forget any of it, even for one second. Among all the things he'd brought to her life across their three years-most of which she'd never told him of-that'd been one of the most treasured gifts.

With her body stretched and her eyes shut, she spoke from a far different place. "This a-hole blew up my home, Castle, my life. How do I… What do I even do with that?"

Rick shifted on the sofa, mimicked her position. "You use all of it. You use all the anger and fear and whatever else there is, and you find him. We find him. After that, you just keep moving forward, Beckett, because that's the only way we all survive when terrible things happen. Stuff is stuff, and you can always get more of it. You have what you need. You have your friends. You have your father. You have Josh."

"Right," she acknowledged in brief time, sounding less than convincing, though not sharing more. "Pour, Castle," she said, and that's exactly what he did.