may flowers
Chapter Two
She doesn't call him.
Or, at least, not immediately.
They close the case and save the child and his mother. Relief flows through them all, and Ryan takes the weekend off to spend time with his soon to be wife. They don't let the pair of them go without a real, life-affirming goodbye party, which they leave halfway through anyway. Even captain Gates joins in on the fun.
She gives Esposito a ride home that night, waiting for him to say something.
"That was a close call," he says.
"It was."
"Makes you wonder, doesn't it? About all the things you wished you'd done, if you knew your life was going to end in such an everyday place?"
It feels as though her phone in her jacket pocket is burning.
"Yeah, it does," she agrees softly, pulling up outside his apartment.
"What would you do, Beckett? If you lived every day as though it were your last?"
She looks down, biting her lip. The phone burns brighter and so does the scar on her chest. A lot of things burn, nowadays. Mostly, everything just hurts.
"I don't know," she answers at last, and then looks over at him. "What would you do?"
Esposito wiggles his eyebrows. "Well, tonight I'm gonna call Lanie. We'll see how it goes from there."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Have a good night, Espo."
"You too, Beckett."
Her apartment is cold and empty and lonely when she gets home. The sink is piled high with dishes she's yet to get round to washing, and her trash is overflowing with take out boxes and ramen noodles packaging. She sighs, dumping her keys and bags on the counter and, as usual, skips food. Her body is aching, tired, bones brittle and creaking even as she moves into the bathroom and runs a shower. The warmth feels as though it should massage her tight muscles, but instead she just finds herself growing frustrated when she's unable to relax, hot tears bubbling from her eyes that she can't prevent, and eventually she sits down and lets them pour out, accepting the moment until the water turns cold.
She takes twice the amount of sleeping pills she normally would that night, and ignores the fact that Richard Castle's number is in her phone.
Esposito's words are troubling her, and as she slips into bed and the pills finally begin to take effect, she really does try to think of what she would do. If she lived every day as though it were her last.
Her fingers find the ring hanging on a chain around her neck.
Sighing, she lets her heavy eyelids close, and has nightmares about the moon bleeding.
It takes her a week to call him.
She almost never does. But then the boys have a ridiculous adventure in Atlantic City and suddenly she finds herself wishing she had someone to tell it to other than her father, someone she doesn't have to give the PG rated version to to save them both from embarrassment. Besides, there's no harm in trying, right?
Settling on her couch with a half-drunk glass of wine that evening, Kate gives herself five pep talks before pressing the call button.
It almost goes to voicemail and she's ready to give up, but then -
"Richard Castle."
"Hi! Uh," she clears her throat, fingers flexing around the glass in her hand, "it's me. Kate Beckett. From - "
"The bank. I remember," he pauses. "I thought you weren't going to call."
She ducks her head in shame. "Yeah, I've been… busy. One of our detectives took some time off so we were a little thin on the ground and - "
"It's okay. You don't have to make excuses."
He doesn't sound angry, and she bites her lower lip, paying close attention to the tone of his voice. Had he been Josh, the excuses would've continued to flow, until they both lulled themselves into a false sense of security that their relationship was in some way healthy and happy because they both had to make excuses sometimes, that there was never really an imbalance of importance between them.
"Sorry," she says again. "I guess I… Really, I thought you might have changed your mind."
"Me? Why would I change my mind?"
She shrugs even though he can't see her.
"I don't know. I guess… I thought the offer was an impulsive one. You know, because I helped save you from the bank. I didn't know if you really meant it."
Why is she telling him this? Shut up, Beckett.
"Of course it was impulsive. Still meant it, though. Nobody else has made Mr Castle sound so hot before."
Surprised, she laughs, taking a sip of her wine. "Is that right, Mr Castle?"
He groans. "Unless you want this phone call to turn into something different real quickly, I'd suggest you stop calling me that."
It almost feels dangerous, this conversation, but she likes how he makes her feel, even through the little amount of time they've actually spent talking to one another. He's… not childish, per se, but free spirited, enthusiastic in some ways that she's not. It's a nice balance. It's nice to break away from the dark, empty corners of her mind and her apartment for this.
"So, you were promising to take me out somewhere real fancy and expensive and devote precious hours of your time to impressing me, Castle," she teases, drinking more wine. Probably a bad idea to keep drinking on the phone to him. She's pretty sure she was already halfway to tipsy when she called.
"Oh, I was, was I?" He asks, laughing. "Name a time and date and I'll arrange something, Kate."
It's the first time he's said her name and she feels a shiver run through her.
"This Friday. I only work until five."
"I'll pick you up at eight. That's a reasonable enough time for make up stuff, right?"
"Are you implying that I need a lot of time and make up to make myself look good, Castle?"
His voice gets low and makes her shiver again. "I'm sure you look good with nothing on."
She clears her throat, taking one last gulp of wine and setting the empty glass on her coffee table. Yep. Definitely dangerous. She loves it.
"What about your daughter, Alexis?" She asks. "I mean, is she okay with - with you seeing me?"
"Oh, well she doesn't know. I don't usually tell her until things look like they're going well."
She nods, forgetting he can't see her, and her accidental silence seems to panic him.
"Not that I don't think this will go well, of course, you are - you seem extraordinary and I really do like you but - "
"Don't worry, Castle. I get it. She's your daughter. You want to protect her."
"Right. Yeah, exactly."
Silence falls between them again, and she makes no attempt to break it, and neither does he. She can hear him breathing. She thinks that maybe it should be awkward, and then wonders why it isn't.
"So, given that your friend was in that bank, I assume you don't normally work hostage situations."
"Isn't the getting to know each other step supposed to happen on the date?"
"Well, just think, when we do go, we can get to know each other even better," he sing-songs, and she smiles fondly.
"No," she answers his first question. "I don't normally work hostage situations."
"Let me guess. Homicide?"
"How did you know?" She asks, surprised.
"You're so serious, for the most part. Only someone who tries to give the dead a voice can be as serious as you are."
"I… Thank you?"
"It was a compliment."
She grins then. "But you're not exactly serious yourself, Castle. And your books are dedicated to giving the dead a voice."
"I knew it! You are a fan!"
Kate blushes. "No," she retorts too quickly. "I've just heard of your books, that's all. Maybe I've read one."
"Or two. Or three. Or maybe twenty two best sellers?"
She rolls her eyes. "Okay. So maybe I am a fan. It's purely coincidental and not a big deal."
He gasps theatrically. "Did you stage the hostage situation just so that you could go on a date with your number one author, Kate?"
"You caught me," she deadpans. "This was my evil, evil plan all from the very beginning."
"But you're too pretty to be a serial stalker."
"I model to pay the bills."
He laughs at that and she finds herself laughing along too, almost feeling blessed for being able to go so long without thinking about the darker fringes of her life. He distracts her. It's a good distraction, she thinks.
"Oh, wait, one second Kate," he says, and then she hears muffled voices for a second before he returns. "Ah, that's Alexis. She just got herself out of the bath and wants me to read her a bedtime story. Sorry."
Her heart seizes at the idea of him being such a wonderful, doting dad. It's what's making this whole situation less surreal, she thinks, the fact that he's so different to how she's always pictured him, to how page six has made him out to be. He's… a genuinely caring man. And he's actually interested in her and not getting into her pants. Though she supposes he wouldn't mind the latter.
"That's fine. I'll see you Friday, Castle. I'll text you my address," she says.
"Until Friday, Kate."
She grins to herself. She's going on a date with Richard Castle.
Shaking her head, she deposits the glass on her kitchen counter, adding to the small amount of mess that's began to accumulate there after having cleaned the last pile two days ago.
The scars along her side ache and tug and burn when she tries to sleep, but she's out of sleeping pills, and she throws the empty bottle to her floor in frustration.
At four in the morning she finally gets to sleep, and has nightmares about her skin turning to blisters.
"So," Lanie says on Thursday, stripping off her gloves and tossing them in the bin, "wine and junk food night tomorrow?"
Kate stuffs her hands in her pockets, looking down at the dead body of their latest victim, Debra Mills, laying on Lanie's morgue table between them. She's actually been keeping the news of Castle to herself, only because she thinks it feels a little more real that way. She supposes Lanie was always going to find out anyway.
"Actually, I have plans tomorrow night."
"Oh really?"
She doesn't miss the interest in her best friend's voice. It makes her lips twist up into a smirk.
"I have a date."
"What?!" Lanie cries, rounding the table to pull Kate away from the dead body and forcing her to meet her eyes. "You're telling me that you, Kate Beckett, are voluntarily going on a date that I didn't set you up on?"
Kate laughs. "God, Lanie, you make it sounds like I don't have a life."
"That's because you don't," Lanie responds. "Now, tell me everything. Who is he? How'd you meet him?"
"Well," Kate says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I met him at the bank. When Jenny was in there. He was one of the hostages."
Her friend frowns. "One of the hostages?"
"Mm-hm," she replies nonchalantly. "Actually, I think you might know him. Richard Castle."
If she were living in a cartoon world, Kate's sure that in that moment Lanie's jaw would've hit the floor. At the look on her friend's face, she has to press her lips together and concentrate on not laughing. Really hard.
"Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm not."
"You actually have a date with Richard Castle, playboy millionaire?"
Kate shifts uncomfortably. "I'm not sure that I'd call him a playboy. He's actually a really sweet guy."
Her friend shakes her head. "I cannot believe you would keep this from me. You land a millionaire that you've had a crush on for years and it just so happens to slip your mind that thats something most normal people would tell their friends?"
"I guess it just seemed… like a nice secret. Besides, I don't know that it'll work out," Kate says, shrugging. "I mean, he has a daughter. What kind of role would I have there? She doesn't even know we're going out on a date. What about my job? I don't know if he'll always be understanding of the fact that sometimes I may have to cancel, or that there are things I'm not willing to talk to him about. And what happens when the effect of trauma wears off? Will he stop and realise that his impulsive move wasn't one he actually wanted to take?"
"Okay, I'm going to stop you there before you melt into full-scale panic mode," Lanie says, placing her hands on Kate's arms. "You are a gorgeous, intelligent, funny woman, and he would be crazy not to want you. Trauma or no trauma. As for the little girl, well, I guess that's something you'll figure as you go along."
Kate releases a slow, deep breath.
"Are you sure?"
"Girl, I'mma smack you. I don't say this stuff just for the Hell of it," she says, nudging Kate. "Really. I know things with Josh ended badly, and that you're wary of dating, but, like you said, he's a sweet guy. It must be worth a shot."
"Yeah," she murmurs, ducking her head when she feels an affectionate smile for the man rising to her lips. "Must be."
TBC
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