Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).
April
One morning in April he comes in to find bright orange flyers plastered all over the precinct. As if the radioactive-pumpkin color wasn't offensive enough, the papers scream, in bold capital letters, "Come support the Eagles in their first-ever league championship game! See Coach Tom Demming for free tickets!" Below that is a picture of Demming, tank top showing off his muscles and wide smile showing off his perfectly straight teeth, surrounded by teenage boys who look absolutely thrilled to be in his presence. He knows it's been almost a year since no flag on the play, and things are more than over between Beckett and Demming, and she's involved with someone else now. But he can still see that kiss in the hallway, still hear her giggling at her desk, and the surge of annoyance comes back just as strong as before. He's glad Beckett's not there to hear him mumble "Oh, geez," and see him rip one of the posters from the elevator wall.
Demming actually shows up after lunch while Castle's relaxing in his chair, looking up knock-knock jokes on his phone and interrupting Beckett's paperwork to repeat them to her. Demming's holding a stack of tickets in that same god-awful orange and scanning the room. Castle's pretty sure he'll avoid them, awkward history with Beckett and all, but apparently Tom Demming is so awesome that he isn't affected by awkward. To Castle's dismay, he heads straight to Beckett's desk and flashes that smile. "Oh, hey," she greets him, trying to sound casual.
He waves the tickets at her. "Will you come support the Eagles, Kate?"
Kate. Damn.
"And you, Castle? You look like you might be a fan of basketball."
And now Demming's talking to him like they should be friends? He'd like to tell Demming to go back downstairs where he belongs, that he doesn't have to keep bragging that he's such a great guy with all this charity work, that he can't get anyone to go to a stupid game just because he has a perfect suit and perfect teeth and perfect hair. But Beckett's biting her lip and giving Castle a sideways glance now, as if she's dreading his next action.
And he realizes he doesn't want Beckett expecting the worst of him. He decides it's time to act like a grown up. He gives Beckett a small nod. She smiles.
"We'd love to," she tells Demming.
"Just two?" Demming asks.
"One for me," Castle says, hoping that this translates into just so you know, I broke up with Gina and I was thinking this could be a date.
She doesn't get the hint. "Wait, let me check," Beckett says, pushing a few buttons on her phone, and Castle knows she's looking over Josh's call schedule. "Yeah," she says at last with a sigh. "Just two."
Demming raises his eyebrows but gives Beckett the tickets, reminding her to get there early and get front-row seats, and thanking her and Castle for supporting this fabulous cause. Castle's annoyed with Demming and even more annoyed with Josh, but he doesn't stay that way for long, because her words start echoing in his head.
We'd love to. We.
He could get used to this.