The smell of bacon and grease greets her the moment she walks into Remy's.
It's just past noon, the restaurant filled nearly to capacity. She glances back at their usual table, almost expects to see him sitting there, blue eyes dancing with amusement, letter in hand. There's a surge of disappointment at the group of college kids gathered at the table, food laid out in front of them, textbooks pushed to the side. She hadn't called or texted Castle on her way here and it's ridiculous that she can miss him when she saw him only hours ago, hair mussed, fingers already flying over the keyboard.
"Kate!" She turns to the counter, finds their regular waitress placing a plate of fries and strawberry milkshake in front of an empty stool near the window. "Writer Boy stopped by and told me I had to feed you at exactly noon so you didn't starve to death during his scavenger hunt." The twenty year old grins, pushing loose strands of black hair from her face. "Also said that if you finish this entire plate of fries you can never steal half of his again."
Kate grins, lifting an eyebrow. "He managed to deliver so many messages to you but somehow forgot to tell you he wants his lucky pen back."
"It's not lucky!"
"I know."
"He's like a nine year old sometimes." Ana signals to a table that she'll be right there, pulling an envelope from the depths of her apron. "Also asked me to deliver this to you. Even when he's a child he's still incredibly charming, isn't he?"
"You have no idea."
"If you need anything, let me know." She watches Ana walk off and then pours a lake of ketchup onto her plate. The letter rests in front of her and she takes it, bypassing the greasy fries in favor of the milkshake, the sweet confection slowly slithering through the straw.
It's lunch on a weekday which means there's no way you're getting our usual table at Remy's. Perhaps a family is sitting there right now or a couple of friends who are falling in love without realizing it. Isn't that what happened with us, Beckett? One day we were coming here to eat as friends and then suddenly it was more, though it took us both way too long to admit it. You revealed so much of yourself to me here. That first night over strawberry and chocolate milkshakes you told me it had been a while since you had been out on a date. I never understood that. I've never understood how someone like you - someone with your personality, wit, charm, and yes, your incredibly sexy good looks - was ever single.
I don't know if you recall, but it was awkward that first night. I don't think we'd ever really been out together like that and for the first twenty-five minutes it was uncomfortable small talk and stretches of strained silence. And then you opened that tiny window and we were us again. We debated, argued, laughed, and by the end of the night all I knew was that I wanted to keep coming back. So we did. Lunches, dinners, midnight snacks after long cases that ended too late for anything else. We'd stay until the sun started to rise, pretending like we didn't realize that the entire night had passed us by.
It was in that booth in the back that you told me about surprise weekend adventures with your mom, fights with your dad, the fact that as much as you loved being the center of your parents' attention you still always wanted a younger sibling to take care of. I learned so much about you here. Everything you did during work, all those little quirks that are so indescribably you are what attracted me to you, made me want to know more. But here? In that booth? With Ana pestering us about why we weren't together and brain freeze from the milkshakes you never can resist - this is where I fell irrevocably in love with you. Plotting ideas on the backs of paper menus and napkins, our favorite memories of growing up in the city, meandering conversations that always led somehow to the topic of sex. The night you "casually" made mention of the Kama Sutra as if it was normal dinner conversation, I knew I was done. You were it.
(And for the record, we have not explored nearly enough of that sacred text in the time we've been together. We need to correct that. Soon.)
The night after we got together we came back here. The look on Ana's face when you slid into my side of the booth and kissed me was priceless. She squealed in a way only a young adult can and spent the rest of the night stealing glances at us like we'd vanish if she stopped checking. Every time we come here together, I'm reminded of how far we've come and how much we still have to look forward to.
Now eat your fries, drink your milkshake and head off to the next stop. Oh, and pick me up a copy of the Kama Sutra while you're there, okay?
She's half a plate down on fries and she grabs her phone, texting him a picture. Only wanted half, see?
I can see that. I can also see that the shake is gone. Still surprises me how fast you suck those down. She waits for it and seconds later another text fills her inbox. That reads dirtier than I intended. Never going to find the word suck normal again, am I?
Not after the Kama Sutra, no. Oh and Castle? You and me, page 27. This weekend.
Why is there not a copy of the Kama Sutra in this apartment?! What's on page 27?! Should I meet you at the next stop, maybe do a little test run?
The smile flits across her lips again. I don't think there is anything in that "sacred text" that is suitable for public, Castle.
Kate asks for the check, shakes her head when Ana tells her than Castle already took care of it. Of course he did. She scoops up the letter, double checks the address scribbled along the bottom, and heads for the door. Her phone chimes as she steps onto the sidewalk, slips her sunglasses down over her eyes.
Challenge accepted.