Indomitable

She stands outside the interrogation room as the officer leads the guy away in handcuffs, that crush of righteous indignation freezing in her chest until she can barely keep it contained, barely keep from turning sharp and razor straight with it, brittle with the force of justice, her every breath slicing cold in her lungs.

Another murder solved. Closed. Final. She is good at this. This is the one thing in her life she does flawlessly.

Castle appears at the stairs, coming down from the guys in Tech - she thinks he had another bet going or a thing at least - and he stands at her side, his warmth slowly thawing her out. His fingers brush at her thigh, his arm at her shoulder, and it feels like all the mortar holding her together is turning to mud, loose and liquid, the bricks shifting, the wall weaker, ever weaker, ramparts crumbling in on her.

The strange thing is, behind that wall she's still - here. She's still this. Fierce and alive and doing her job and solid. Strong. Nothing can take her down when it's like this, a confession from a murderer, a solid case, his presence at her side, and the barriers breaking down and her body like a tower rising from the rubble.

She could do this. She could do this now.

Only him. Only he could-

"Castle," she says, turning on her heel, her eyes at the level of his. "Let's get out of here."

He grins, that lazy one, and his hands twitch, like he wants more instinctively. So she reaches out a hand, snags him by the fingers and squeezes. His body cants towards hers, too much, and she draws back with a quick look at him.

"Get your coat," she says finally.

He nods, releases her hand, and heads for his chair, for the coat slung over the back of it.

Who needs words?

This is good. Everything between them is right on the surface, bubbling, and she's powerful with it, shiny, feels it running through her blood and pounding out in her heart and just - everywhere - everything reflects how good this is.

He doesn't ask stupid questions, doesn't get petulant, doesn't do anything other than follow her lead and sit close beside her on the bench, knees and thighs and shoulders brushing, touching.

"This is messy," he laughs, cupping the gyro with one hand and trying to aim the spills over the ground.

It is messy but. But he keeps at it. He won't stop. Neither will she. She won't.

Central Park and the sun, Castle wrestling with his lunch, kind of adorable, and Kate Beckett wants nothing more than this. Everything is good.

"Eat it faster, maybe?" she suggests, watching him lose half of it to the dirt.

He groans and shoves another bite in; she goes back to hers, glad she kept the paper wrapped around it.

"Can I tell you something?" he says suddenly, swallowing his bite and looking at the gyro like he's planning his next move.

"Do you have to?" she says back, shrugging off the question.

"Hm. No. Don't have to. Thought it might interest you."

"Okay. Shoot."

A flicker on his face, a ripple to disturb the quiet pool of his eyes. "Just. Gonna say I really like this."

She smiles at him, nudges his shoulder with hers. "Yeah. Me too."

The ripples expand, form rings that overlap and create waves. He's going to rock the boat, and she just wants to enjoy this, the feeling of being tall in a crowd, being able to stand up under it all without even having to think about it.

"You sure we're not on the same side of that wall?" he asks then.

Doesn't even make a dent; she expected a prickle of awareness, but no. Whatever this is - still strong. Still holds up.

Been pretty battered lately, maybe it's finally become impervious. Maybe she's finally been pushed so far out there that-

Oh. "Which side am I on?" she asks. "In your scenario."

"My side," he offers, half question, hopeful eyes.

Her smile escapes before she can contain it; she can only do damage control, press her lips together, try not to let the answering grin on his face affect her. Oh but it does.

"I figured that," she says dryly, eyebrow raised. "I meant. Inside or out?"

He looks thoughtful, nods to himself. "Huh. Maybe it's a maze instead. Some walls, some not."

She groans and slumps her shoulders. "That's depressing. A maze? One little wall, I can get through. A whole maze?"

"Yeah, but we do it together. No problem." He shrugs at her, takes another bite of his gyro like it's no big deal.

"A maze," she sighs, but yeah. Could be. It feels gnarled, feels twisted up. Maybe she got to a dead end and just sat down in one spot and refused to budge, only let herself see the three walls in front and to either side of her. "That'll take forever, Castle."

"I like mazes. They're fun."

Fun.

"They are!" he insists.

"Sure."

"What's at the center of this one? Or is it a maze where you go in one side and try to find your way out?"

"Way out, hopefully. I don't want to discover I'm the Minotaur."

He chuckles at that, then puts down his food, glances at her slyly. "I'm good at mazes."

"I can see that," she says, hears her voice both amused and strong, wonders at it. How one day she's a mess and then the next she's in control of this. She's got it. It really is a maze.

He's smiling at her again, looking so hopeful; it's almost too much, that hope, and she doesn't want to dwell on it, why it's been missing or how it came back. She just wants to live here with it.

"Wanna get ice cream?" he says suddenly.

She nods to his gyro. "You finished with that?"

"Yeah. It's falling apart, but. Hold on."

He shoves the rest of it into his mouth and chews, looking ridiculous, licking his fingers, swallowing thickly. She waits for him, can't help watching him, and then he grins.

"Now I want ice cream."

"All right," she agrees, glad to just walk with him. Anywhere, in any direction. "Lead the way."

She stands up from the bench, wiping crumbs down her jeans, off her coat, and he's grabbing his trash and hers, bunching it up to toss it into the large green barrel. When he comes back to her side on the path, he reaches for her hand and takes it. Like it's nothing. Thoughtlessly.

But for her? It's a surge of energy, his hand closing over hers like they're completing a circuit; it makes her spine straight.

"Hey, Kate?"

"Yeah."

"If we run into a wall, we'll just turn around and go back the way we came, look for a new route."

She grins over at him as they walk. "Sure."

He holds up her hand between them, wriggles his fingers. "Hit a wall?"

Kate bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. Subtle. "Not yet."

"Say when," he murmurs, and he's so close, his body close, and she could. She could.

But.

"I'll let you know, Castle."