May 2009
Kate poured boiling water into her teacup, adding milk and taking a wide berth around Gabe, she set it on the counter near the toast she'd made for Ramona. The last thing she wanted was to have this discussion.
"Do you want the apartment? You never said anything-"
"No. No, I don't. But Gabe, looking for a good apartment is hard. We have the space, and we're not here at the same time very often, so I don't think I need to rush into taking a lease for a place that's not right."
Apartment hunting sucked. She'd only made it to two opens so far. One had been perfect - she'd watched as another applicant had been approved on the spot - and the other was so far uptown that, on second thought, she'd had to decline; balancing parenting with Gabe was already hard enough when they lived in the same place so she was determined to stay in Tribeca.
Gabe turned away from her without another word, and she sighed, clenching her fists, and exhaling slowly as she heard the front door slam. She closed her eyes for a second to take in the blissful silence, which was promptly broken.
"Mommy!" Ramona careened into the kitchen, wailing. "I want the park!"
"Mmm. Yes, I said we could go to the park." Kate pressed her lips together as her daughter let out another screech and, holding her breath, she concentrated on keeping her hands at her sides rather than slamming them over her ears in an attempt to block out the impending tantrum. "But first we need to have breakfast, so I need you to sit on your stool and eat your toast."
"No." Ramona stamped her foot and Kate rolled her eyes.
"Then no park." Well. This made two discussions she didn't want to have before breakfast.
"Noooooo!"
A flood of tears spilled from her daughter's eyes and Kate watched, eyebrows raised in silent battle to see who would relent first.
"Breakfast," she repeated, pointing to the stool, and Ramona climbed up, rebellion brewing in her expression. Kate slid the plate of toast toward her, taking the other seat. She sipped her tea, making a face. It was already cold. And… it was tea. She took another sip as her eyes closed, willing herself to believe it was coffee, wishing she was in a cafe far from here, that Rick was beside her.
She opened her eyes.
He wasn't here. This wasn't a cafe. And this sure wasn't a coffee.
She watched as Ramona took a bite of her toast, almost immediately spitting it out and Kate shook her head in warning before glancing at the clock on the oven.
Seven in the morning.
It was going to be a long day.
Kate's hand closed around the envelope, and she felt the corner of her mouth curl up as she took in the return address. The DMV. She could feel the card inside and she tore it open, eager.
"What's that?" Ramona asked, hopping up and down in front of the mailboxes, and Kate glanced at her daughter.
"It's my new driver's license," she said, pulling it free and kneeling to show her. "Look. It's got my picture on it, and my name."
"What for?"
"Driving, sweetie. It says I'm allowed to drive a car."
And it said she was Katherine Houghton Beckett.
The smile became an all-out grin as she stared at the plastic rectangle. Logically, she should have organized this after she'd moved; she'd have to apply for another one the second she had a new address, but the name change paperwork was through and she hadn't wanted to wait another second to bear the proof that she was once again Kate Beckett.
"Daddy drives."
"I know he does. And Mommy doesn't even have her own car, huh!" She chuckled. "Did you know I had a motorcycle when I was younger?"
Ramona shook her head, losing interest and scampering across the lobby, slamming her little hand into the elevator call button. "Pushed the button," she called, and Kate nodded, following her over to wait.
"Good girl," she said, her eyes still on the card in her hand as they stepped on and traveled upstairs.
Beckett.
Having a different last name to Ramona wasn't ideal - nothing about this was ideal - but being Kate Beckett again? That felt good.
They moved into the hallway, and Kate unlocked the door, ushering Ramona inside. She hung her purse on its hook, and taking her wallet from it, she replaced her old license with the new one, carrying the old one into the kitchen, and cutting the rectangle in half, she tossed it.
"Come help me make lunch," she called, and Ramona tore into the kitchen, coming to a stop in front of the refrigerator."
"Lunch," she echoed, and Kate grinned, running a hand through her hair, glad this morning's mood was forgotten.
Naptime might just be the best time of the day.
Not that Ramona napped anymore, but the strictly enforced quiet time was non-negotiable as far as Kate was concerned. So with Ramona in her own bedroom across the hall "reading" to her teddy-bear, her soft chatter still audible, Kate stretched out on the sofa, her computer in her lap and her cell beside her.
Apartments. She had to look. With a sigh, she opened a new browser window, glancing around the room as she did so. Staying here certainly wasn't tempting; the ordered clean lines weren't the eclectic look she loved, and the high-end furniture lacked the character of the pieces she'd grown up with. Maybe when she moved she could decorate with some of the items she and her mom had chosen together, so many years ago.
If her dad still had his storage unit.
She should ask. She picked up her cell to call him when it rang, Rick's name appearing on the screen.
"Hey, Rick."
"Good afternoon, Kate Parker!" he exclaimed.
"Nope."
"What?"
"Beckett," she said with a grin. "It's Kate Beckett now."
"You changed your name back!"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Kate… Beckett. I like it."
"Yeah, me too," she confessed.
"Beckett," he tried again, and she laughed, enjoying the sound of her name on his lips.
"You like that, huh?" she asked, swallowing as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She was not supposed to be flirting with him. Not in text messages, not over the phone, and not in person.
"I like it a lot," he said, his voice low and she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cushions. "Beckett. Maybe I'll just call you Beckett now. Forget about calling you Kate altogether."
"Uh-huh. And what- I'll call you Castle?"
"Well, the guys already do," he said, a note of pride in his tone, and she frowned.
"Who?"
"Ryan and Esposito. The detectives I'm following around."
"Right. Of course they do."
"It's a cop thing," he informed her.
"Well I'm not a cop," she pointed out. "Anyway. I'm sure you didn't call me up to talk about my last name."
"No. Just called to see how you are. Maybe you'd like to meet for a coffee?"
"I'd love to," she said, throwing a glance toward the hall. The newfound silence from her daughter's room was troubling. "But I've got Ramona, and we've already been out. She's not having a great day, to be honest." She pushed her laptop onto the sofa and stood.
"It's not a problem," he said, his voice soft, and she nodded.
"I know. But I'd really like to." She padded toward Ramona's room. Would she find her daughter sacked out or was she walking into disaster? "Shit."
Ramona whipped her head around, guilt all over her face as she dropped the crayon.
"Everything okay?" Rick asked, and she shook her head.
"Crayon on the walls," she groaned.
"Oh. Alexis never did that. She did scribble all over one of my collector's editions of Patterson's, though. Said she was writing, like me."
"Smart kid. I bet you handed her the pencils, am I right?"
"Well… you're right that there's a certain rivalry between myself and Patterson. And I may have shelved the books I cared about well out of her reach."
"Since I don't paint murals, I don't think Ramona has that kind of excuse." She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated. "We're going to clean that," she told her daughter, watching as her lower lip quivered, and Kate shook her head. "Was parenting this hard for you?" she asked Rick.
"Alexis mostly parented herself," he said. "Patterson books aside. I'd better let you go take care of the crayon situation."
"Unless you have any tips on how to remove crayon from walls?"
"Soap, water and Google?"
"Sounds about right."
"You can buy special paint that they're meant to draw on, you know. And blackboard paint!"
"You sound awfully excited about that."
"Yeah! I'm thinking about it now. It would be great. I could write my ideas on the walls instead of needing to find paper or my laptop!"
"Well maybe I'll look into that special paint when I eventually find a new place to live," she smiled. "For me and Ramona," she added. "Not for you!"
He laughed. "Good luck with the walls. Maybe next week sometime I can meet you on your lunch break?"
"That would be nice," she agreed.
"Bye, Beckett," he said, and she smiled as she ended the call.
She liked it.
Beckett.
Beckett's hand wrapped around the back of his neck as she leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. She shifted forward on the bed so that she was almost straddling him, pushing against him as he let his hands skim around her waist, his thumb slipping under her shirt, making contact with her skin-
"Richard!"
Rick sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flying open at the sound of his name being shouted across the loft.
He groaned as Martha swept into the room without knocking. "Mother. I was sleeping."
"Yes, well." She dismissed his protest with a wave of her hand.
"Can I help you with something?"
"I was hoping for your assistance with an acting project I'm working on."
"I'm not sure how you think I can help when I'm sleeping," he said, running a hand over his face, and his mother shrugged.
"Well, you're awake now," she pointed out, and he grimaced.
"I'll be there shortly."
"Thank you." Martha nodded, turning and leaving.
The dream had just gotten good. Did his mother really have to wake him up right when-
He groaned. No. This was all wrong, subconscious or not. He was meant to be friends with Beckett. Kate.
Platonic friends.
Not dreaming or imagining or thinking about her in anything other than an innocent way. Their coffee two weeks ago - and the instinctive kiss he'd pressed to her cheek - had been playing on his mind since then, but apart from a handful of messages he'd been reluctant to push.
Judging by their conversation yesterday she was very busy, probably swamped with work as well as parenting and the finer details of splitting up with her husband. The last thing she needed was him there, in her face, unable to control his conflicted emotions. He heaved out a sigh, pushing the sheets away and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Being friends with Kate was going to be harder than he thought. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try.
He pulled his jeans on, trudging out to the kitchen to see what his mother wanted.
"You're not going into the precinct today, then?" Martha asked as Rick shifted the sofa back to where it belonged. Apparently his mother's 'acting project' had meant she and Alexis had moved furniture around at the crack of dawn, and the only thing he was needed for was returning the living room to its prior order.
Rick shook his head. "The guys will call if they get a good case. I think I'm going to try and get some more writing done today."
"Oh, good. Gina will be pleased." Martha nodded, turning from him and heading to the stairs and he made a face at her retreating form.
"Stop talking to my ex-wife behind my back," he called after her, and she lifted a shoulder in response.
Rick picked his coffee cup up from the counter, turning to go back to his office. He owed Gina a chapter - he owed her a book, by now - but before he could go back to Roach he needed to get Kate out of his head.
He booted up the laptop, opening a new file. Kate. Delete. No. He couldn't call it Kate. That defeated the whole purpose of writing these… feelings out of his system. No. He would call it Friendship. He raised an eyebrow at the screen, already disgusted with himself, and lowered his fingers onto the keys, letting it all flow out.
"Did you even shower?"
"Hmm?" Rick looked up to see his daughter framed in the doorway, a grin on her face and a coffee in her hand.
"You look like you could use this," she said, wrinkling her nose at him, and he blinked, clearing his head.
"What are you doing home from school already?"
Alexis laughed. "Already? Dad, it's four o'clock. Have you moved from that chair at all today?"
"Sure I have." He nodded at the empty coffee cups on the desk, and she raised an eyebrow, passing him the one in her hand.
"You don't need this then," she suggested, and he shrugged, taking it.
"It's four? Really? Wow. I have been here longer than I thought."
"That's good!" Alexis enthused. "Gina's going to be so happy. I'm so happy. It's been ages since you've written like this!"
"Oh. Yeah." He frowned at the document in front of him. Was that really the word count? It had been… years since he'd made those kinds of numbers in a day… thousands of words on the screen. That would be… he flicked through the document… fifteen pages. Single spaced. "It's… not my book for Gina," he confessed with a wince, and he watched as Alexis' jaw dropped.
"Dad!"
"I-" he looked at his daughter. "I got carried away."
"I'll say you did," she agreed. "Can you use any of it?"
He shrugged, turning back to the laptop and renaming the file, the title coming easily to him now. Heat. "Um. I… yeah. Maybe." He looked at the screen, his words staring back at him. He had something. He totally had something. Screw Roach. He didn't know just where she fit yet - the fifteen pages were patchy and totally lacking narrative - but he had his next character. Savvy, hot and badass. As soon as he named her, she'd be bigger than Derrick Storm ever was.
A/N: Once again, Kylie and Jamie's beta prowess was of the awesome. I had intended to thank reviewers individually, but didn't get the chance this time round. So thank you. Your kind words are appreciated! x