may flowers
I am a super slow updater asshole. I know. Hopefully this makes up for the wait, if you're still with me.
Chapter Eight
The boys wiggle their eyebrows and rib her mercilessly the first time she uses her lunch break to meet up with Castle. Usually, she'll simply order some Thai, eat in the conference room with them; or grab a tuna sandwich from a couple blocks away while doing her paperwork - Espo will sneak off to Lanie thinking they don't know. Ryan will have lunch with his lovely wife.
Before now, Kate's never really seen the point in wasting a lunch break for social visits - not that she really had anyone to visit, unless the unscheduled emergency appointments with her therapist count. If she works through her lunch break, that means she can get her paperwork done quicker, and go home earlier.
But, of course, Castle changes everything.
Soon, it's a regular occurrence. At least three times a week he takes her to a burger place named Remy's for lunch, a place she's surprised she hadn't really been too all that often before (their shakes are delicious). It becomes such a regular part of her routine that the boys' teasing eventually dissolves, and Captain Gates stops raising her eyebrows from the office every time she leaves.
February weather chills her bones as she walks the few blocks to Remy's that day. She curses under her breath, winding through the crowds as she attempts to speed up. She's ten minutes late.
Of course, when she pushes through the door his face lights up like it always does. Completely forgiving.
"Hey babe," she says, kissing him as he rises to greet her. He quirks his eyebrow at the moniker but doesn't comment. "Sorry, left a little later than I should've."
"That's fine," he says, sliding back into the booth and instead of sitting across from him she moves to sit beside him, tucking herself into his side. "I took the liberty of ordering for you."
She hums as his arm curls around her, tugging her into his warmth. "Thanks."
Her hair rustles against the fabric of his shirt - blue, the kind that makes his eyes shine and her stomach warm. She's left her hair straight, knows it makes her cheekbones look a little more sharper and her eyes fierce; just the look she needs for this case they're working on. It seems to affect him, though, one of his hands moving up to brush a thumb along the ridge of the bone. She turns into him, brushes her nose against the underside of his jaw.
"Cold?"
She nods. "Forgot my gloves."
His hand moves away from the sharpness of her face, cups both of her hands in his large one. The warmth of his palm makes the tips of her fingers sing, and then he raises them to his lips, peppering kisses across the back of her palms. It makes her giggle, squirming against him and she doesn't miss the delight that tattoos itself in his eyes.
"You're awfully affectionate today," he comments, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Not that I'm complaining."
She's almost ready, she thinks. Almost ready to be with him - completely. To show him her scars and let him love them - because she could love him. Might already be halfway there.
Their burgers arrive but it's the strawberry shake she reaches for first. Makes sure she catches his eyes before she closes her lips around the straw and sucks, hollowing her cheeks a little more than necessary. His eyes darken.
"So," she sets the milkshake back down, twining her right hand with his left one despite the fact it makes eating awkward, "how's Alexis doing?"
He groans. "You can't do things like that and then ask me about my daughter. It's so - confusing."
Kate smirks, doesn't need to do more than that.
He untangles his hand from hers, sweeps her hair back from her face so he can study her profile. His hand wraps around the back of her neck and she turns to face him, expecting a kiss but all she gets is the nudge of his forehead against hers, noses brushing. It's - nice, actually. Intimate.
"This Friday."
"What about it?" She asks, fingers curling around his waist.
"I want to introduce you to my mother. And my daughter. As my girlfriend, this Friday," he tells her softly, watching her eyes for any signs of hesitation. She hopes he doesn't find any lurking there. "We can have dinner at my place."
She doesn't know what he expects from her. But she does shift forward slightly to brush her lips against his, humming at the relief she feels travel through him as his body relaxes against hers.
"I'd like that," she murmurs.
It's unfair.
It's unfair because she knows - she one hundred percent knows - that he would love to hear all about the case with the CIA. As much as she resents working with this agent who seems to keep all of the information at arm's length, Castle would have so many theories; wacky ones, crazy ones - ones that would inspire those books of his, the books that saved her. And now he doesn't understand, she can sense it in the long period of time it takes him to text her back. Doesn't understand why she can't talk to him about her case.
You always talk to me about ongoing cases, his recent text reads. You're not supposed to, but you do.
This time it's different. I'm sorry, I wish I could explain, she replies.
It takes him five minutes to reply. She practically hovers around her phone while sitting in the CIA's conference room, leaping out of her seat when she sees the lock screen light up with a message from him.
Have I done something wrong?
Kate sighs, rubbing at her scar through the fabric of her sweater. There aren't any agents around to confiscate her phone, and she's not going to tell him anything - just needs to hear his voice, needs more than electronic words to reassure him that everything between them is still perfectly fine.
She almost thinks he's not going to answer.
"Hello."
It's curt, and she swallows against the harsh lump in her throat.
"Castle," she says. "Listen, I really wish I could explain - "
"I just don't get it, Kate. One moment we're perfectly fine, and the next minute you're freezing me out again. What do I keep doing to make you treat me like this?"
"No," she groans, rubbing a hand against her temples. "It's not you - I - I can't tell anyone. Not my Captain, or the boys, or - "
"What's that supposed to mean, Kate? Are you in trouble?"
"No, no, I'm fine," she almost laughs. She's in some secure facility of the CIA's; there's no place safer. "I promise. Maybe one day, I'll be able to tell you, but for now, Castle I -"
"You know, this is sounding a lot like you are in trouble. In the movies, they're always told to say they're fine -"
"Castle," she huffs. "I promise. I'm fine. It's just… this case… what I know - it's super classified. Emphasis on super."
He goes quiet for a moment and she almost thinks that he's hung up, if it weren't for the contemplative breathing of his she can hear drifting down the line. She bites her lip, glancing out of the clear doors to see an Agent headed her way, a scowl set on his face. Yep. She's been caught alright.
"I've got to go," she tells him. "But I'll call you as soon as I can, okay?"
"Are we still on for Friday?"
"Of course," she replies gently, before she hears the sound of the door opening. "I've got to go, babe."
"Call me as soon as you can."
"I promise."
She clicks off of the phone as the agent stops at the edge of the desk, a disapproving crease lining the skin of his forehead. Ah. Yeah. Pissing CIA agents off probably isn't her best move, especially if she wants to make any progress on her own case. Still, the amount of suits and serious looks around here unsettle her.
"I wasn't spilling your secrets, don't worry," she says, setting the phone back down on the table. "I just have a very paranoid boyfriend.
The agent raises his eyebrows.
But then Sophia Turner walks back into the room, and the subject is forgotten.
She's going to die alone.
It's the first thought she has when her car plummets into the Hudson. The water is green and grey and everywhere, filling so quickly before she can even really process what's happened. She's going to die alone, and she hasn't called Castle, won't get to call him even though now all she wants is his voice. The one he uses when she wakes sweaty and trembling from nightmares. Reassuring, and deep, and right in the shell of her ear.
She survived a bullet to the chest - knows all too much about the fear of not getting to say goodbye.
She's going to die alone.
Kate tugs at the seatbelt, gritting her teeth when she feels it give way slightly. C'mon, she thinks. C'mon, just this once, let things go my way.
They're supposed to be having dinner. In two days. She's supposed to be meeting his family. A little girl with red hair and an older woman with eyes like the night tide. She can't miss a family dinner. Can't die like this. Not like her mom. Won't leave them waiting for her.
The water is up to her chin when she's finally free of the seatbelt. She takes a second to take a deep breath and sheds her coat, makes herself lighter, before diving under the water, hands reaching out for the gun caught beneath her seat.
It doesn't budge the first time and she resurfaces, barely inches of air left in the vehicle. She takes one last lungful of air and hopes it's enough to get back to him. Back to Castle.
The gun dislodges and she shoots at the windows, swimming up and out, her body light enough to begin carrying itself towards the surface as she kicks hastily. But resurfacing such a depth so quickly has her vision turning black, spots dancing before her eyes and she can no longer tell which way it is she needs to go.
She can't miss a family dinner.
Not like her mom.
Lanie brings her clothes from her locker at the precinct and she has two minutes to attempt to recover before Sophia's dragging her away to yell at her. Something about the woman has her on edge, grates against her and she's still thinking of the angry spark in her eyes when she almost collapses through her apartment door hours later.
"Kate."
She glances up from the floor, finds him emerging from the front room, the key she'd given him last week in his hands. His eyes study her trembling frame, the air-dried hair, the oversized hoodie. They narrow.
"What happened?"
She swallows nervously. "My car ended up in the Hudson."
He's moving forwards, swallowing her into his arms with a strength she doesn't have right now. He's safe, and warm, and everything, really. It doesn't take much for her to collapse into him, arms tucked between them awkwardly and nose buried against his clavicle. There are so many things she wants to say. Her throat burns.
"I can't lose you," he whispers into her hair. "I can't - Kate…"
"I'm right here," she murmurs, and they sway together in the darkness of her kitchen. For the first time she really does believe she's real. He makes her warm.
She wants his skin on her skin. Right now. But her bones ache, deeply, so she settles for his hand around hers as he leads her into the bedroom.
They both startle when they reach the doorway.
"Agent Turner?"
"Sophia?"
Kate turns to him, glaring. "You know her?"
Castle glances between the woman sitting on the edge of Kate's bed - perfectly poised - and her. "We - I - How do you know her?"
Before she has a chance to reply, his eyes light up. "Oh, my God. You're working with the CIA. That is so awesome!" He almost looks like he wants to pick her up and spin her around. "My girlfriend is working for the CIA. I totally knew you were badass."
Sophia rises from the bed then, moves forwards, making them fall silent.
"I still need your help, detective," she says, but he eyes move to Castle, makes Kate's skin prickle uncomfortably. "And maybe it's time for yours again, Rick."
"A year!"
Castle winces as she paces in the conference room. Outside, the CIA are running matches for the little girl in the photograph, the one she and Castle had found at the apartment. It's kind of exhilarating, working with him - his theories on hand, in person, instead of by text, or the static of a phone call. And he has her back, she feels more protected than she's ever felt with any partner she's worked with.
But - how is she supposed to ignore the fact that he so obviously slept with the Agent in the next room, and based a character on her?
"It's not that bad. It's not like you," he insists.
"Oh, isn't it?" She hisses, hands settling on her hips. "Because from where I'm sitting, Castle, it's exactly the same. How many other women have you done this with? How many women have you tossed aside once you've bedded them?"
"Hey," he says hotly, rising from the chair he'd been sitting in. "That's not fair. It's not like that."
Kate feels her skin flush from the way he's looking at her - all anger and passion. She likes that she can evoke this from him.
Knows that means he cares.
She huffs, turning away and dropping her face into her hands to collect her breath. It skitters away from her, nervous, while her heart pounds fiercely in her chest. She'd been stupid, of course, to think she could have possibly been the only woman he'd ever been inspired by. She knows that. Shouldn't have ever thought that in the first place. It's just - it'd been nice. Thinking she's special.
"It's just…" she lets her hands fall, turns back to him and his eyes are soft now. "You mean so much to me, Castle. And I - I know you're not how they make you out to be on page six. I know that. But I just wanted… I just thought…"
She can't get the words out, now that she knows how ridiculous he's being.
Castle's feet appear in her vision as she glances down at the floor. He cups her face in his palms, lifts her up to meet his eyes. Oh. Yes. That look. That look of his that he only gives her. It's still there - that mix of awe and wonder.
"Please don't think - not for a second - that because I've been inspired by other women before, it makes you any less special. God, you're - you're extraordinary, Kate. I've never felt such a pull like this before," his mouth drops closer to hers, just inches away and she feels her breath hitch. "You're… you're everything to me. Already."
She blinks a couple times, stunned by his words. She has none to amount to his, so she curls her fingers at his waist, and leans in to kiss him tenderly.
She hopes Sophia's watching.
It's different.
He's different.
Weariness settles across his features now, despite the fact that they've saved a little girl's life. It's not enough, she knows. Knows the way betrayal stings low in the spine and sets a low buzzing through the bones. She can see it in the way he slumps as he exits the car, the way he doesn't respond to her touch against the small of his back in the elevator.
Sophia's dead and gone, died right in front of them before she had the chance to kill them both, and Castle -
Castle's different.
It's the first time she's ever been to his place, hadn't questioned him earlier when he'd insisted on going back there. Probably wanted familiarity, or his little girl, she doesn't know. Wishes she did. She should know - how to comfort him when he's like this, after all this time he's spent helping her.
"Richard?"
She recognises the woman instantly, even though it's been so long since that dreaded day at the bank. Castle's mother - Martha Rodgers. The woman recognises her too, it seems, a gleam in her eye before Castle crosses the room and takes the stairs, leaving her standing awkwardly by the doorway.
"Katherine. It's nice to finally see you again," Martha greets her with a kiss to the cheek, almost startling her. "Now, what's wrong with my son?"
"Oh," Kate flushes, glancing to the stairs which had lead him away from her. "I don't know that I - "
"Darling, he's my son."
Motherly love. It's something she'd almost forgotten.
"There was… a woman. From his past," she tells the older woman, watching as she nods. "She… She was killed. Right in front of us."
"Oh, my."
Kate hears the sound of his footsteps again, sees him taking the stairs back down slowly. Something about him is lighter now, and - was it his daughter? Had he needed to go up there to see his daughter?
It tugs uncomfortably in her stomach.
"I'll give you two your space," Martha whispers, not giving Kate the chance to reply before she moves away, kissing her son on the cheek and then taking the stairs.
There's silence. Castle continues to stand there, staring aimlessly at the wall in front of him. It's different. When you're close enough to watch the lights go out. She knows. It's even more different when it's a bullet lodged in your chest.
"Kate."
His voice is gruff, needy. She knows what he's asking for even if he'll never really demand anything from her.
She wants it, too.
Kate moves forward, twines a hand with his gently, smoothing her thumb against the paper thin skin on the back of his palms. He sighs, leaning down to sip from her mouth and she lets him, curling another hand around the shell of his ear to keep him close for a moment.
"Your bedroom," she murmurs, and there's a storm in his eyes before she kisses him again.
He leads her there and it's everything and nothing like she had expected. Warm and masculine and home. She peels the coat from his shoulders without a word, and the silence is comfortable in a way it never has been with anyone before. She helps him shed his shirt, hopes he's shedding some of that weariness too, goes for his belt before he stops her, grabbing her wrists. He lets them go almost as soon as she gets the message, letting them fall back to her sides as he unbuttons her coat, lets it fall with a rustle somewhere on the floor. She steps from her shoes next, smiling to herself at the height difference and watches as he smiles slightly, too.
Castle moves to sit on the edge of the bed, pulls her to stand between his legs. He unbuttons her shirt slowly, still gives her time to back out but there's nowhere else she'd rather be.
The shirt falls to the floor. His lips find the scar between her breasts, hands curling around the ones lining her waist.
"I'm not her," she says gently as he pauses, breathing her in. "I'm not going anywhere."
He stares up at her, eyes all solemn and for a moment she gets a glimpse into what he must've been like as a little boy.
"I'm here to stay, Castle. Always."
It should be too much for her fragile heart to handle.
It isn't.
He says nothing then, mutely unclasps her bra and she lets it fall. The desire in his eyes sparks, light blue eyes turning shades darker as he begins shuffling back on the bed and she follows.
By the time she's made him lose his belt and his pants, she's on her back, his mouth tracing softly down the scar along her waist.
Kate closes her eyes and, for the first time, feels that tightness in her chest from the shooting disappear.
"Castle."
His mouth reaches her navel. Looks back up at her.
"Kate."
There are no more words after that.
TBC