Kate's head is swimming. Who is this guy? On one hand, he gave her his number when he was on a date with someone else, he's happily alluded to his playboy lifestyle, apparently finds the cop thing a turn on. On the other hand, he didn't actually hit on her when they met for coffee, he just got really into the case- helping her solve it which, career wise, was a big deal for her, not that he would have known that. And now this. Inviting her in when his daughter is here- the daughter she didn't know he had- and radiating enthusiasm for the story, or as she preferred to call it, the case. And while he did ask her out to dinner, he hasn't made a single physical move toward her apart from kissing her cheek the night they met. And part of her wishes he would.
When Rick comes back downstairs, he isn't sure if he will still find her there, or not. But Kate is sitting on his couch, staring into her glass of wine, and he lets out the breath he hadn't known he was holding.
He'd called her half a dozen times since he'd seen her, unable to get her out of his head. The attraction was one thing, but there was something else. Something that had stopped him from flirting, trying the charm. She reminded him of a deer in headlights and he had the distinct impression that she would flee if he pushed too hard. But, she's here, sitting on his couch, looking for all the world like she could stay there all night. And, he grins to himself, she's hot.
He sits beside her, silent for a second.
"I didn't know you had a daughter." She looks apologetic.
He dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "How could you? Why should you?"
"And her mother?" Kate looks around as though expecting his wife to materialise in front of them.
"Long gone."
"Oh God-" He can see it in her eyes, what she's thinking, and he cuts her off-
"Divorced. We're long divorced."
"And Alexis lives here? With you? All the time, I mean?"
He nods. "Full custody, yes." He grimaces, thinking of his phone tag with Meredith over the past few days. The voicemails she'd left had been… unkind, to say the least. He is dreading the trip to L.A. Which has now been arranged for the following month.
"Huh." She's studying him, now, and he's reminded of the night in the restaurant, when he'd studied her. "Single father. Not very playboy after all, Mr. Castle. Yet, here you are, coming home, late at night, and entertaining women while your daughter is sleeping. So, playboy, or no?"
"Not women. Not entertaining women. One woman. Who, I believe, invited herself over."
She groans. "I just didn't think. I missed all your calls-" (He doubts she could have missed them all accidentally, but he leaves it be) "-and I finished with the case-" She falls silent.
Want to know a secret?" He grins, laughs. "About where I was?"
"Sure?" She still looks hesitant, like she doesn't know if she wants to know and he has to restrain himself from leaning forward, kissing the hesitance away.
"Parent teacher interview night. At Alexis' school." Rick scratches his head, nervous, suddenly. He's all too aware of his different lives, and not happy about the paths of convergence they sometimes take. Mostly he prefers his home life to stay at home (certainly part of the reason Meredith left, she loved living life on page six) but with this woman in his living room? He's not sure how long he can keep up the pretense, that the party lifestyle is anything more than a facade, a way of selling books, a way to keep from being lonely.
Kate laughs, and to Rick, the sound is golden. "Seriously? Seriously?"
"Seriously." He wiggles his eyebrows at her. "And here you are. So. Now that my daughter is in bed, let's get down to business-" her eyes widen, and he laughs- "and you can tell me all about the story."
"The case, you mean?" Her eyebrows are arched at him.
"Case, story. Whatever. I want it all." He wants her story too, but she's sitting on his couch, sipping wine, and smiling. He can still see the haunted look in her eyes, the one that drew him to her at the restaurant last week, but it's not raw the way it was. So he'll let it be, for now. If he can.
She's been talking in the most animated way, and he's fascinated. The arch of her eyebrows, the laughter in her voice, the dry and biting humour. These are all things he could get used to. She had seemed reserved, before, but he can sense she's becoming more comfortable.
What was she even doing here? Kate thought she had known- she'd played out a few different scenarios in her mind on the way over. None had involved sitting on Castle's couch, civilly drinking wine and discussing his daughter. Who she just met. Shit. She was so not a meet the family kind of girl. Yet, here they are, and her expectations are being blown to smithereens as she discovers that Castle is a responsible father. (She swears she never read that on his fansite, and she blushes, thinking about the things she has read on the fansite. Crap.)
She finds herself telling him about the case, including the details that civilians most definitely shouldn't know. Kate wonders briefly, what it would be like to be a civilian who didn't know all of the things she knows, to be able to let someone else be the barrier between nightmares and things that actually go bump in the night.
She's trailed off, and would be comfortable sitting in silence for a moment, but he's opened his mouth again, and she thinks chatterbox, yet somehow, she kind of likes it. Likes the way his mind works, a million miles a minute, and how he's so excited by the things she's saying and has a hundred different theories or possibilities that could explain the background of the case. (She rolled her eyes when he mentioned the CIA. At least it wasn't an alien abduction theory, which she can already imagine coming out of his mouth.)
"Are they green?"
She shakes her head, focuses. "What?"
"Or brown? I suppose they could be called hazel, but… such a dull name for such amazing eyes. They change in the light, you know?"
Kate rolls her eyes at him. "We're discussing my eyes now?"
"Yes, Officer, we are. Oh!" Kate can tell he's thought of something else and the eye colour topic will be abandoned. "Officer! So, how long have you been one of New York's finest?"
"A couple of years," she tells him. "Mostly I've been working in vice, some in burglary."
"Vice? Like, hookers? Have you ever played a hooker?" Kate buries her head in her hands. The questions this man asks!
"Yeah," she admits. "A couple of times. But I think I might get called into homicide more, now. Because of the case I helped with."
"That we helped with!" And he's serious again, and so innocently curious, when he asks, "What are your plans? Detective? Is that next?"
"Uh-huh. Actually, yeah. That's my plan. I'll go for detective early next year, or later this year, and then-" She stops herself. And then what? Was she really going to spill her entire plan, just like that? One glass of wine, and she's talking about her tragic past? Sure, Kate, she thinks bitterly. Ruin a great night by talking about how your mother was murdered, and you are going to get justice by solving the case that no one else could.
"Hey-" Rick has a hand around her wrist, has moved closer, concern on his face. "Are you okay? You're- you're shivering. Is it too cold in here?" He reaches behind her for the blanket, to pull it over her, and their faces are so close, close enough that she thinks he might kiss her, thinks she might kiss him- and then she is kissing him, pulling him closer. He's still for a moment, then he's kissing her back, and all she can think is I'm kissing Richard Castle and a giggle escapes and she pushes him back, laughing hysterically.
"Ooooh," she groans, when she can push the laughter down. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Well, I'm not," exclaims Rick. "That was… amazing. Although… the laughing? Kind of making me a little nervous about my kissing ability?"
She turns to him, and she's embarrassed, but the part of her that wants to run out of here in shame is being beaten down by the part of her that wants to kiss him again, the part of her that wants to wrap her legs around him and just get lost. But she finds her voice. His daughter's face is swimming in her head too, and she knows she has to end this before it begins. Coming here tonight was a mistake. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Castle. I'm a mess. Trust me. You don't want anything to do with me." She gestures around her, at his living room, his place. "You have a nice thing going on here, Castle. Trust me, you do not want me fucking up your perfect playboy life."
Rick grabs her wrist again, looks at her with piercing eyes. His voice is almost a whisper in her ear as he leans in to her. "Well, Beckett. How about you let me decide on that. You let me decide."
