"Kate?"
He didn't understand. It didn't make sense. This had to be a joke. In which case, he would give her credit because if she deserved anything at all, it was credit for trying. Always trying.
"Hmmm?"
She hummed in response, one leg crossing the border between the cool tiles of the bathroom floor and the soft plush carpet of the bedroom. Her eyes scanned the room but he was nowhere to be seen.
"As much as I would love to play Hide and Seek with you, I'm really not in the mood, Castle."
She gave a small laugh for his sake, not willing to admit how the week had affected her, really taken a toll on her, even though they both already knew. She pivoted her body and turned back into the bathroom. She resumed her previous actions, rubbing the wet washcloth on her cheek in small circles, carefully removing any last remnants of the makeup she had applied earlier that morning. The warm water felt good on her face. She savored it, moving the cloth higher, coving her eyelids. After a moment, she realized she was drifting and forced her eyes open again. She rung out the small towel into the sink and then folded it once, leaving it on the rack to dry. She looked at herself in the mirror one last time before sighing and turning off the light on her way out of the room.
"Kate."
Her name came out as a whisper, so quiet she almost didn't catch it.
He stood up from where he had been crouching on the floor in front of her nightstand. When he turned to face her he was holding a copy of A Rose For Everafter. Her copy. She couldn't quite see the cover but it was the only book she kept in the small cabinet and it was easily recognizable by the wrinkled spine and back cover that was hanging on by a thread. The novel was open to one of the first pages and he still hadn't looked up at her yet.
"Castle."
She knew this moment would come eventually. She had just assumed that it would be when they were old and gray and he would say It's the hair, Kate. You're always changing your hair and she would laugh. His simple explanation would be lined with regret but she would kiss it away, even then, and she would feel the weight lift from her shoulders and sigh with relief, finally, finally letting him in on her last secret.
"What is this, Kate?"
She studied his face, not sure if she should apologize or not.
"Look, Castle, I didn't – "
"Kate," He cut her off, "Girls as beautiful as you shouldn't be waiting in lines as long as this. Rick Castle."
She made no attempt to talk or move or do anything. She simply waited, letting him take in the words, his words.
"Kate."
He looked at her, then back at the page, then up at her again. He looked confused. He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning either.
There was no spinning of wild theories or ridiculous ideas of what, where, why, when, how. There was just him, looking at her, silently begging for reason.
She approached him then, gliding across the floor until they were face to face, breathing the same air. She gently tugged his left hand away from the book and interlaced it with her own, fingers soft and warm. He was patient, always was when it came to her.
"It was a long time ago, Castle. I didn't expect you to remember."
He was contemplating what to say, how to respond in a way that would make her understand how truly sorry he was. But he couldn't make her understand something he couldn't even understand himself, so he remained quiet.
"There were hundreds of people there, in line, that day."
She continued, offering the small piece of information in an attempt to assure him that there was no possible way he could have remembered her from their brief minute and a half meeting.
"I used to think about telling you sometimes, but what purpose would that have served? I didn't want you to feel guilty and change one of my favorite memories into something depressing."
"Kate…"
Still, he was unsure of what to say. The writer, at a loss for words. He used his free hand to trace over his familiar handwriting on the open page.
"Don't be sorry, Castle. Things were different back then. I was just a girl meeting my favorite author."
"You were never just a girl, Kate."
She inhaled deeply because he had found his words. They were his, just like the ones written in her book, neatly typed and uniquely scrawled in black ink, and she would never stop being surprised by the affect they had on her. Even after all this time. She smiled and kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his cheek. She looked at his lips and then into his eyes. It was her tell. He couldn't remember there ever being a time she kissed him without looking at his lips first.
"I'm so sorry, Kate. I'm sorry. I should remember. I just don't and I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry and the first time we met, God, how could I forget that? How could I possibly not remember you, Kate?"
She took the book from his hands and put it on the wooden stand. She grasped his other hand firmly, squeezing both of his hands that she held in her own. He looked up at her with glossy eyes and dark pupils.
"It's the hair, Castle. I'm always changing my hair."
He let out a breath neither one of them knew he had been holding in and laughed because she always knew what to say. Then she kissed him.