Five Years in the Life

Chapter 4

"Oh, come on Tommy, just admit it. You killed her. You stuffed her body in the trunk of your car, you drove to the club, you dumped the body and then you tried to get rid of any evidence that you actually knew her. But you didn't do such a good job now did you, Tommy?"

Detective Kate Beckett leaned over the interrogation table, getting as close to the suspect, Tomas Gibson, as she dared. Her arms were braced against the plastic table and she was close enough to smell his sweat and see the flicker of panic in his eyes. She let a small, feral grin cross her face. She had him.

"Lady, I don't know what you're talking about and my name is Thomas. Stop calling me Tommy," he spat the words at her. Kate smiled again, this time facing the mirror, giving the boys on the other side a tiny wink. He was starting to get agitated, fidgeting in his seat. Small beads of sweat formed at his receding hairline and he pulled at the collar of his red button down shirt.

Slowly, she nodded her head as she made her way to the empty wooded chair sitting on the opposite side of the interrogation table from Gibson. She took her time, giving him the chance to stew. She tilted her head to the side and tapped her pen on the table a couple of times, observing him. Giving him the chance to observe her.

"You see, Tommy, I have a kind of super power," Kate spoke softly, dangerously, as she stared at him, her eyes never wavering from his. Steel. "I can tell when people are lying to me. Right now, Tommy, you are lying. And Tommy, I don't like it when people lie- it just makes my life and job that much more difficult."

Kate sighed and let out a soft smile as the other detectives clapped her on the back and offered their congratulations on breaking the suspect; her first suspect. It hadn't been her first interrogation since becoming a detective but it had been her first solo one. That's right boys, Kate Beckett could hold her own.

She sat quietly, methodically filling out lines in the stack of paperwork on her desk as her colleagues filed out around her, wishing her and everyone else a Merry Christmas. It was five o'clock on Christmas Eve and while everyone else was leaving to have dinner with their families and loved ones, twenty-six year old newly promoted Detective Kate Beckett sat at her desk with a stack of paperwork that could wait until the after the holiday. She gazed out the window as the elevator bell dinged from the last of the detectives leaving and watched as the lights twinkled in the city below. She had always loved the lights. Still did. As a little girl she would drag her parents around the city for hours just to stare at them. They reminded her of stars— the stars that never shown in the city.

Her pen tapped gently against the small Christmas tree on her desk as she looked at her father's too large watch, which wrapped around her wrist, in surprise. It was eight o'clock and she had only managed to fill out a whole page and a half of paperwork. With a sigh she gathered up her coat and gloves. Her back and knees cracked as she stood from her chair. Sometime around twenty-five her body had changed. Now things cracked and popped that hadn't done that before. Wasn't your body supposed to wait until forty to fall apart? She sighed. She had started to get low-fat, sugar-free drinks also even though they didn't taste nearly as good. As she got closer to thirty it had gotten harder to keep that little spare tire from appearing around her middle. Part of her wished back to when she was fifteen and thin as a rail— no hips to speak of and she could eat anything and still only loose weight. Her back cracked once more as she bent over to open the bottom drawer of her desk and pull out the book lying on top of some file folders. Her gaze hesitated for a moment on files before she slammed the drawer shut. Not today. She wiggled her shoulders and cracked her neck. It was nothing a glass of wine and a hot bath wouldn't fix.

The latest Derek Storm novel had been released a week before and Kate stood in line for hours to get it signed. She had never done anything like this before- swooned over a celebrity, biting her lip as she gave him her name and watched as he signed it and handed it back to her with a kind smile. She had wanted to tell him what his book meant to her, how they literally had helped her through so many hard times, how they had practically saved her life, but she couldn't. It would lose something in the translation. It would become trivial. So, instead she had breathed back the tears that had threatened as waited in the line and memories of her mother came in waves, stood there silently as he signed and mumbled out a thank you as she took the book back. She had imagined that little jolt of electricity that had passed through their hands as their fingers had brushed accidentally. She had. Really. It had only been her imagination.

Snow had started to fall over the city sometime during the day and Kate couldn't help it as the lyrics of I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas started to pass through her brain. She shook her head, attempting to dislodge the annoying earworm. Instead she found herself mumbling along with the lyrics. She paused and bit her lip as her favorite coffee shop came into view. They were still open. She glanced down at the book clutched to her chest and back at the door. The inviting warmth of central heating and the delightful aroma of roasted coffee beans only held back by a thin piece of glass. She could indulge in a cup of coffee, it wasn't that late and it wasn't like she was planning on sleeping anyway. She hadn't even started the book yet and she would probably stay up all night reading. There was something about the worlds of Derek Storm and Richard Castle that she couldn't help but get sucked into and wrapped up in. She would loose all sense of time and the rest of the world would just melt away for hours.

Her fingers wrapped around the door handle and she took in a deep breath. A small smile fluttered across her face as she took in the smell of coffee, cinnamon and vanilla. She loved coffee— the smell, the taste, the feel of the hot liquid on her tongue, burning its way down her throat. How could someone not like it? It didn't make sense to her.

"Large non-fat latte, two pumps sugar-free vanilla," she rattled off to the barista. It was her traditional Richard Castle drink. The first time she had read one of his books was the first time she'd had a vanilla latte. Somewhere along the way it had stuck. Now, she would only have that drink with one of his books. She smiled at her own silly tradition. Somehow it seemed right— like they were the two things in her life that were meant to go together: Richard Castle and vanilla lattes.

She debated whether she should take a bath as she dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes by the door in her apartment. The heat was going full force and the coffee had warmed her insides, relaxing the tense muscles in her back and neck. She unwound her scarf and shrugged off her jacket, throwing them over the back of a chair as she made her way to the bedroom. Her hair tumbled down in waves as she pulled the pins out of the bun at the nape of her neck. It was getting really long now, the ends almost brushing her waist. She had been debating cutting it, making it more professional. The bath and wine could wait until later she decided. Now, she wanted to read.

Dressed in a pair of Christmas pajama pants— flannel, covered in dancing reindeer, and a red tank top, Kate flopped back on her couch and snuggled under a fuzzy throw blanket. She wrapped the corners around her shoulders and folded the edges around her lap until only her sock covered feet stuck out the bottom. She reached over and grabbed the cardboard cup and book off of the table, juggling them carefully in an attempt not to spill the steaming liquid on the precious book while still keeping the blanket wrapped around her body. She was cozy and air hitting her skin now would ruin the cocoon she had built for herself.

Her fingers ran gently over the glossy cover. She traced the words gently. It was a tradition, a ritual. Holding her breath, she flipped open the cover to the title page. She hadn't read what he had written yet. She had held off. She was nervous and she didn't know why. She didn't have a reason to be, it was not like she even knew the man or he knew her. Sure, she subscribed to one (or three) of his fan sites and she might have a slight crush on him, but that didn't matter. She was twenty-six years old for God sakes. She was an adult and she was a detective. She could read what he had scribbled in her book.

"Kate, don't look so sad. Everything will be all right in the end, remember Derek Storm always get's his guy. Richard Castle."

Kate smiled at the words. Derek Storm always got his guy and so did Kate Beckett. She could do it; she could get her guy. Everything would be all right in the end.

Tomorrow she would get up and meet her father at the diner. They would talk and exchange gifts. He would proudly show her his two-year sobriety coin, which she would give him a hug for. She would tell him that she was so proud of him. They would chat over their eggs and bacon. Maybe she would have pancakes. They would talk about memories of her mother and they would both be sad but happy at the same time. Good memories only. She would cart along her bright, awesomely tacky green ice skates and talk him into going to Rockefeller with her. It was a tradition after all.

Then, the day after she would get up and go to work. She would finish her paperwork and she would stay late to look over the file folder that she had stored in her bottom drawer- the file that no one else ever saw, the file her father didn't know she still had. She would allow herself to fall down the rabbit hole a little bit farther, to spin a little bit more out of control, but not enough so that she couldn't find her way back. Just like Derek Storm, she would solve her mother's murder and she would get her guy. But that later. For now, she would get lost in the wonderful words of Richard Castle and let herself float away.

A/N: So I hope you all enjoyed chapter 4! There are two different ways I could go with this. I could write chapter 5 (Christmas 2012) and be done, or I could go back and write chapters from Castle's perspective for these 4 Christmases and then write the 2012 Christmas. Let me know what you think- it is all dependent on what you all say. As always, you all rock and reviews are love! I am now off to see the awesome Christmas lights down town. Have a good night you all!