I'm an idiot.
A complete and utter, verifiable idiot. How did I not see it sooner? My mystery woman is none other than Detective Kate Beckett, N.Y.P.D.; inspiration and muse for one Master of the Macabre, Richard Castle.
Nikki Heat, in the flesh.
I am an idiot. Perhaps I should go and get myself checked out for early-onset dementia.
She comes in late in the afternoon, right before I'm about to leave for the day, wearing a white boat-neck shirt, a light jacket, and a tired expression. She picks absently at a loose thread on the bottom of her shirt as she waits in line and smiles weakly when she reaches the counter.
"You're here early," I greet her. "Chai?" I ask, already beginning to work on her usual.
"No, thanks," she smiles, catching my hand as I reach for the tea. "Too early for that. After the day, scratch that, the week I've had, I need a pick me up."
A glint of metal catches my attention as she reaches into her bag for her purse. A shield on her belt loop. A distinct bulge on her right hip.
Whoa! This is new. I've never noticed her packing before.
And now there's no need to ask for a name anymore. How did I miss this? I know exactly who she is; the gorgeous hazel eyes, the body to die for, the hidden sadness, and the soft smile. There's only one person this could be.
"I'll have a grande' latte, low-fat, two pumps..."
And that confirms it.
"Sugar-free vanilla," I cut her off.
She looks at me with wide and disbelieving eyes.
"How did you..."
"Oh, my God! You're Detective Beckett, Nikki Heat!" I squeal in a voice that I barely recognize as my own.
Is this what Rick's fangirls feel like? I feel a blush settling across my chest, warming its way up my neck and onto my cheeks.
Calm yourself, Jess.
Shock and confusion play out across her features. She offers me a small nod of acknowledgment and a quirk of an eyebrow. She seems somewhat amused by my sudden outburst; and maybe, a little bit afraid. I'm grateful she hasn't run screaming from the store.
As I begin to settle, all the pieces begin to fall into place and realization dawns.
The cagey smile when talking of Rick's books; how we'd discussed the sex scenes between Rook and Nikki and how she'd involuntary flinched. The odd hours she keeps, yet the 'nine to five' wardrobe; the haunted look that she sometimes doesn't manage to conceal.
"How did you..?" she asks me again as I fumble around with the espresso machine.
"Rick's one of my oldest and dearest friends," I reply with a sheepish smile. She ducks her head and blushes; I'm pleased that I'm not the only one finding this whole situation uncomfortable.
"Jeez, I'm sorry. This is awkward. It's just, I feel like I already know you. Rick spends so much time raving about you. You know how he is... 'Detective Beckett this, Detective Beckett that.' Once he gets fixated on something..."
Both her eyebrow shoot up at that.
"Anyway, it's um..."
I realize I'm rambling, take a breath and start over.
"Look, ignore my girlish display. It's nice to finally put a face to the name, Detective Beckett."
She smiles and holds out her hand.
"Kate, you can call me Kate."
"Jess. Nice to finally meet you." My heartbeat returning to a more normal rate, I squeeze her outstretched hand and smile widely at her.
"You needed a break from him?" I inquire with a grin while I tamp down the coffee. "I know he was coming to work with you today; saw him this morning when he picked up your coffees. It seems early for you to be done with work?"
Really, I'm wondering if he's made his confession yet; trying not to pry and yet needing to know. It's now late in the afternoon and he's had an entire day to make things right. He better have.
I really like this woman. At least, what I've gotten to know about her in the last few months. The knowledge that she is the very same woman that Rick has been waxing poetical about only seals my affection for her. He's picky about who he chooses to keep company with, and he has most certainly chosen her.
I'm hoping that we can continue to be late night acquaintances, hoping her knowledge of my friendship with Rick won't scare her away to another, more anonymous, late night escape. I'd been hoping we could become friends recently. With our love of classic literature, our confessions of a shared but secret affair with trashy dime-store novels, and our obsessions with even more trashy television, it's like we were made for each other.
I'll kill him if he's screwed it up.
"Yeah, he was at work today. We closed the case," she replies.
"That's good," I say, hoping she'll reveal more.
There is a small smile of victory on her lips but it is laced with a good dose of sadness.
"Such a shame, such a waste..." She shakes her head as if to clear the morbid thoughts and goes on. "Not that Castle was much help on this one."
She rolls her eyes at that and it's immediately clear where the new quirk of Rick's has come from. On more than one occasion lately he has given me the exact same expression.
"Tell me it wasn't Kyra," I ask.
As much as a terrible, no-good, horrible idea it is for Rick to resume anything with Kyra, I really did like her. She was incredibly sweet and sincere when I knew her; the last real woman Rick had been with. Her being a killer seems completely out of the question, but if Rick's books have taught me anything it is to expect the unexpected.
"Oh, no it wasn't. Don't worry," she smiles reassuringly. "She was a suspect at one point but... I actually liked her." She rolls her eyes again, more exaggerated this time. "Castle certainly liked her."
Her brow furrows at the mention of Kyra. As though it surprises her that she has found herself liking Rick's old flame. It's understandable. If all she's seen of his personal life has been what's played out on Page Six, it's a near miracle that she let him waltz into her workplace and eventually her life in the first place. I wonder how he weaseled his way out of the police horse debacle. And was that a hint of jealousy I detected when she said his name?
"It was a long time ago," I soothe, handing over her coffee. She takes it gratefully and slips a dollar into the tip jar. I raise an eyebrow at her, letting her know that it's entirely unnecessary. She shrugs and sips on her brew.
"You do realize that I pay way more than necessary for my employees and that all we use the tip jar for is a monthly get together outside of work? Seriously, Kate. I've told you before, quit with the tipping. I consider you a friend."
I get a huff of annoyance for my effort.
"As for Rick," I continue, "it was a shock for him, definitely, but never fear, he is well and truly over her. No matter what his actions may have suggested this week."
I throw it out there, gently hinting towards the clandestine meeting and kiss that Rick had shared with Kyra. I'm eagerly awaiting her response, and hoping fervently that Rick has made his confession; that the affection I see shining in her eyes when she speaks of him isn't going to be erased by the next time we meet.
"Oh," she huffs quickly, "No, there's no fear," grasping immediately at what I was implying and confirming that he had indeed confessed. It also confirms that she does, almost certainly, harbor feelings for the ruggedly-handsome writer. There is a fresh, light pink, hue of warmth coloring her cheeks and no amount of trying to hide behind her hair can conceal it.
Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, Kate.
"Come, sit. You don't have anywhere to be do you?" I smile and gesture to an empty table.
She walks over with me, takes a swig of her coffee and sits down on a couch, looking to me with an expression of confusion on her face.
"Actually, I do..."
It comes out almost as a question and I sense she feels a need to talk about it.
"Yeah?" I smile, sitting beside her on the sofa and waiting for her to continue. But she stays stubbornly silent. "Hot date?" I poke.
Her eyes snap to mine and she shakes her head almost comically, holding up her hands in denial.
"No... no! Castle and I are supposed to be going to Kyra's wedding ceremony tonight. That's odd, right?"
It is, a little. I wait to reply though; she's not done.
"I mean, just this morning Kyra herself was a suspect; and then this afternoon, her fiancé. And now suddenly Castle and I are guests at their impromptu and severely rushed, backup-wedding plans."
She twirls a short, errant strand of hair around an index finger, chews on her lip and proceeds, almost as if talking to herself. Or maybe the ceiling. She's in her own world right now as she tries to figure it out.
"Why would she want us there? The ex-boyfriend and the detective who arrested her fiancé's uncle? It's odd. Right? I don't want to intrude but Castle assures me that we'd be wanted there. He almost begged me to go with him. Why would he even want me there?"
Finally she looks back toward me, and aims a pointed glare in my direction, as though I suddenly hold all the mysteries of Richard Castle and his universe within my grasp. As though I can give her answers.
I laugh out loud and pull her into a quick embrace. I'm honestly a little miffed at the idea of it as well. Kyra is a lovely and generous woman, but it is a little odd.
As for Rick, I have no doubt that he will be counting this outing as an unofficial date with the beautiful woman sitting expectantly before me.
I think it's best not to let her in on that little nugget of information just yet.
"Welcome to the wonderful world of Richard Castle, Kate. Never expect normal with him. And he's right, if Kyra is anything like I remember, she would want you there. That girl has a heart of gold; it's why he fell for her, it's why he let her go too. It's why he probably acted like an ass all week."
Kate chuckles and I go on.
"She's also probably trying to set you guys up. She always did fancy herself a bit of a matchmaker."
Kate eyes widen and I shrug.
"Just a heads up."
I wink at her and smirk, pleased with myself, as realization dawns across her face.
"Ha! It's never gonna happen. Me and Castle? Not a chance."
"Mhm..."
"I mean it."
"I know you do," I pacify.
She smiles, all haughty and smug, as though she thinks she's got one up on me. Kyra however is not the only one with matchmaking tendencies and it would take a blind, deaf, and possibly dumb person not to notice the affection that bubbles to the surface when the two of them speak of each other.
"For now," I add, poking my tongue out at her.
She gives me a look that might strike a weaker person dead and quietly sips on her coffee, ignoring me.
"Is this weird?" she asks suddenly.
I snap out of my daydreams, glancing toward the clock and sighing when I realize that I still have an hour until relief arrives.
"Is what weird?"
"Us... talking I mean? I don't want to overstep. I feel like I'm grilling a suspect and talking to an old girlfriend all at the same time. I don't want to get between yourself and Castle. I don't know if I should be... I can find another coffee shop if this is weird."
"Hold it right there, Missy!" I exclaim.
No way am I letting her get away; she's right. It is like talking to an old friend with her.
And if I'm honest with myself, I've done my own fair share of grilling and will be sure to do so in the future if she sticks around. We're even on that count.
I'll be damned if the sometimes infuriating, but generally lovable man, who happens to be connected to us both, gets in the way of this new friendship I've struck up.
"Listen, Kate," I say, with a gentle hand to her knee. "I can keep a secret and I can set boundaries. Rick's a good friend, yes, but I also am in the unique position of knowing how maddening that man can be. I can probably provide you with a little perspective, and maybe even keep you from committing a crime that you'd probably end up investigating when he gets a little too obnoxious."
She smirks at that and I can feel her defenses weakening, her trust growing. I plow ahead before she has a change of heart.
"But more importantly, I like you. Before I figured out who you were. Which, may I add, took me long enough. I have enjoyed our late night chats and have hoped that we would become friends. Don't let my unexpected friendship with Rick sour you to ours, huh?"
She nods, seeming to accept my declaration; she smiles widely in my direction and acquiesces quietly.
"Okay."
"Okay then."
I sip on my own drink, wincing when I find it cold and place it on the coffee table. I begin to people-watch and Kate does the same; the quiet settles over us again. It's not exactly uncomfortable but it is a little awkward. I know exactly what we need to lighten the mood.
"Please don't leave me for the Store That Shall Not Be Named!" I cry, dropping to one knee and giving her my best impression of a woman scorned.
"Ha!" She snorts and pulls me up into a hug.
"Never fear," she whispers in to my ear before depositing me back onto the couch. "Their Chai sucks." she winks.
"Oh, I see how it is," I moan, "Only after me for my T and A."
Her eyebrows raise and her eyes glitter a pretty shade of green and gold.
"Tits and ass?" she laughs, a merry sound, almost choking on her coffee. "You know, I'm just not that kind of girl. Sorry, Jess."
"Tea and accompaniments," I reply glibly. "But I appreciate the way your mind works."
She chuckles and we enjoy a few more minutes looking out the window. We laugh as a little old lady with an enormous Great Dane stops in front of the store, laugh harder as the massive beast drops a 'number two' on the pavement and the lady pulls out a large grocery bag to take care of it.
"Better her than me," I snort and Kate nods in reply.
"I guess I should go home and get ready," she says finally, looking at her watch. "Wouldn't want to keep Castle waiting."
"It's more likely that you'll be kept waiting while he does his hair," I grin.
"You're probably right," she agrees, rising. She grabs her purse and coffee, and squeezes my shoulder. "It was nice meeting you properly, Jess."
"You too," I reply, hoping she can hear the sincerity in my voice. "Give him hell."
"I always do," she says as she breezes out the door.
I'll bet she does.
I wonder as I drag myself back behind the counter if she'll let on to Rick that we have met.
Well jeez, finally, Jess!
Have I mentioned that writing 1st person is HARD? Because it is and I hate it.
Thanks to Kell for the quick, last-minute beta when I had a moment of "OMFG I JUST ADDED 1200 WORDS AND WTF AM I THINKING ABOUT TO HIT THE POST BUTTON AT THREE IN THE MORNING WITHOUT ANYONE SEEING IT?"