Give me to hold all sounds, (I, madly struggling, cry,)
Fill me with all the voices of the universe,
Endow me with their throbbings—Nature's also,
The tempests, waters, winds—operas and chants—marches and dances,
Utter—pour in—for I would take them all.
-Walt Whitman

For a brief period Kate was able to lose herself in the overture to Messiah, with its slow stately beginning followed by the bright, lilting violin solo. But as the overture died away and Brett Donovan rose from his chair to begin his first solo, nerves began to reassert themselves in Kate's muscles and veins. Her fingers trembled slightly as she moved them into position on her violin strings, her eyes focused on Castle.

He signaled the beat, and the orchestra played the introductory measures, but before Brett could begin to sing, Castle stopped them with a wave of his baton, shaking his head.

"Sorry," he said, "sorry, I think that was too slow." He turned to Brett. "What do you think?"

"It was a little slow," Brett agreed diffidently. Castle nodded.

"Let's try again, everyone." He paused, staring off to the side as he listened for the internal beat, and then lifted his hands again.

This time the tempo was better, and Brett and Castle nodded to each other as the orchestra played. Then Brett turned to face the empty audience chairs, breathing deeply.

"Comfort ye," he sang, "comfort ye, comfort ye, my people."

To her relief, Kate found that the pause to adjust the tempo had somehow worked to diffuse her tension. She was able to relax into the familiar embrace of the beloved music.

After Comfort Ye, they went right into Brett's second solo, Ev'ry Valley Shall Be Exalted. Then Brett took his seat as the chorus rose and held their books at the ready, and they launched immediately into And The Glory. Then the chorus members sat down again and Vincent, the bass soloist, rose to sing Thus Saith The Lord, which segued directly into Chloe's solo, But Who May Abide.

The chorus rose to their feet again to sing And He Shall Purify, and Kate noticed that Castle chose a slightly faster tempo for this chorus than he had used in the previous rehearsals. She remembered her conversation with him about it, what felt like weeks ago - but was in fact only three days ago, when Annabel was alive and everything was different - and she smiled a little as her bow sailed back and forth across the strings of her violin.

In short order they made their way through two more choruses and three more solos. And then it was time for the Pifa, the short instrumental interlude that marks the midpoint of Part I and is meant to evoke the peaceful pastoral existence of the shepherds of Bethlehem.

The music was quiet and contemplative, and had always put Kate in mind of a quiet country stream flowing gently through fertile meadows. But today it awoke new sensations in her: the chills and queasiness of nervous anticipation.

She stumbled over the Da Capo and winced hard, looking an apology at Castle, but he just gave the tiniest shake of his head and kept his attention focused on conducting. Kate pressed her lips together tightly and forced herself to concentrate.

At last the final notes died away and she let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She closed her eyes for a long heartbeat, opened them again, and leaned over to her left.

"Yukiko," she whispered to her stand-mate, "I need you to take first seat for these next few."

The other woman stared at her uncomprehendingly. Kate leaned down to place her violin in its case by her feet.

The chorus and orchestra were murmuring, looking at each other and at Castle, wondering what was to come next. It was time for the first soprano solo, but as far as they could tell, there was still no one to sing it.

"Number fourteen, please, everyone," Castle said calmly, and raised his hands in preparation, turning his body slightly toward the cello section. Surprised, the cellists lifted their bows into position.

Kate took a deep, careful breath, and another, and stood up. A rustle of surprise rippled through the chorus. The three soloists twisted around in their seats to see what was going on.

Castle cued the cellists, and they played the opening chord of number 14.

Kate took one more deep breath and set it free.

"There were shepherds abiding in the field," she sang, "keeping watch over their flock by night."

The clear tones of her voice soared upward to fill the hall, melding with the mellow hum of the cellos. She felt her heart lifting along with it.

Castle ignored the gasps and growing whispers from the chorus, and the stuttering of the string instruments; he signaled to the violin section, and Yukiko startled, quickly sliding over to take Kate's accustomed seat and lead the first violins.

The violins began to play, and Kate sang on.

"And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid."

The string players played two short chords, looking wide-eyed at Castle, carefully keeping their focus.

Kate felt swept up in the story that they were all weaving together, imagining the amazement of the shepherds, the calm beauty of the angel.

"And the angel said unto them, 'Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.'"

She felt the excitement of the moment beginning to tug the corners of her mouth upward as she sent the music up into the hall.

"'For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord.'"

The violins became animated, trilling through a series of quick repeated notes, evoking the dance of joy in the heavens. The chorus rose to their feet, not nearly as smoothly or quietly as usual.

Kate felt her confidence surge with the joyous music. "And suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host," she sang, "praising God, and saying-"

The chorus and trumpets burst in with "Glory to God, Glory to God in the highest," and Kate felt her smile at last burst free.

She slid into the empty soloist chair as the chorus continued to sing about good will toward men. The other three soloists were staring at her, open-mouthed.

Chloe, who was closest, leaned over and put her hand on Kate's knee. "That was fantastic," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

Kate bit her lip and nodded, not ready to speak.

The chorus finished singing and the violins closed out the movement with an ascending trill, representing the departure of the angel back into the firmament.

As the final echoes died away, the orchestra members seemed to take a collective breath, wondering; but Castle just flipped his page over, cued the chorus to sit, and lifted his arms again, saying calmly, "Number eighteen."

Kate stood up again, closing her eyes through the introductory bars. But she opened them again and felt the smile creeping back across her face as she drew a deep breath.

"Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice greatly."

Her confidence grew as she worked her way through the aria, not missing a note, although she wavered more than she would have liked on some of the highest notes, and her melismas weren't as smooth as they should be. She was dimly aware of Castle and the orchestra supporting her, adjusting to her small rhythmic missteps and changes of tempo, and gratitude surged through her as they all flowed together into the slower middle section.

"He is the righteous Savior," she sang, "and he shall speak peace unto the heathen."

At the end of the middle section, there was a dramatic adagio moment, in which it was customary for the soloist to provide her own embellishment on the melody while the orchestra followed; but Kate wasn't ready to try anything fancy yet. She turned her head so that she could see Castle from the corner of her eye, and sang "he shall speak peace unto the heathen" strictly as written.

Castle took a dramatic beat, holding his arms entirely still for a single breathless moment - the entire concert hall was completely silent - and then the strings launched back into the opening melody for the second half of the aria.

"Rejoice," Kate sang again, and did.

As soon as the final note of Rejoice Greatly died away, Beckett moved back to her customary seat at the head of the violin section. Her seatmate quickly slid over so that Beckett could sit back down.

The orchestra and chorus seemed stunned; it wasn't customary to applaud after each solo, so they didn't, but everyone was sneaking glances at Beckett as she retrieved her violin from its case.

Castle sensed that he needed to keep things moving lest everyone's surprise get the better of them, so he quickly flipped his pages and said, "We're going to skip numbers nineteen and twenty for now, since we did them yesterday. Number twenty-one, please."

The slightly stunned chorus members stood up and opened their books. By the time they were ready, Beckett and her violin were too, and Castle took them directly into His Yoke Is Easy without further ado.

It was the end of Part One of Messiah, so Castle judged it a good time to take a break. "Fifteen minutes, everyone," he said, and as usual the concert hall erupted into the noise of dozens of voices.

Castle turned to Beckett, hoping to see if she was okay before the inevitable crowd of questioners formed; but Brett, the tenor soloist, was faster, getting to her side almost immediately. Beckett greeted Brett calmly, so Castle stayed where he was, just watching.

Castle didn't quite know what he had expected to see on Kate's face - tears, or perhaps a huge smile - but he was surprised to see that she simply looked calm. Peaceful. Confident. It brought a smile to his own lips as he turned to give his attention to the people waiting to speak with him.

"Kate, wow, you sounded amazing. I didn't know you could sing," Brett said as he came over to her just seconds after Castle called for a break. She nodded acknowledgement, bending to put her violin down.

"Thanks, Brett. You sounded great too."

"Thanks. Listen," the tenor added, lowering his voice, leaning slightly toward her, "about what happened with Annabel, and everything..."

"Right." Kate straightened back up and folded her arms across her chest, studying him. "Brett, what you do in your personal life is none of my business ... but I think you already know that you can't go on keeping this secret. Right?"

He ducked his head and sighed. "I know, I know you're right. I guess I'm just ... nervous."

"Understandable," Kate nodded. "But you know it isn't fair to go on like this. Like I said, it's not my business, so I'm not going to say anything to anyone." She watched him relax slightly at the words. "But don't wait too much longer, okay? Do it for Annabel, if nothing else."

Brett winced, and she knew she had struck home. "Okay. Thanks, Kate."

"No problem." She patted his shoulder and turned to see Lanie at her elbow, with an assortment of chorus and orchestra members hovering nearby. Kate quailed a little at the sight. She definitely wasn't ready to be fawned over by everyone in the room.

"Hey, Lanie."

"Kate." Her friend enveloped her in an unexpected hug. "Girl, you were great. I had no idea - When did this happen? How? I can't even make sentences," she laughed as they pulled apart.

"I know," Kate smiled, looking down at the floor, suddenly shy. "I'll tell you all about it, later, okay?"

"Sure. You better believe you will," Lanie said, regaining her customary snap. But then she laid both of her hands on Kate's upper arms and looked into her eyes, saying, "But you're okay, right? Really?"

"Yeah." Kate met her friend's eyes and let the truth of it come through. "I really am."

"Okay. Good."

Lanie moved away, leaving Kate at the mercy of the petitioners; a couple of them had actual logistical questions, but most seemed to want to gush or dither at her about her singing or about Annabel. She handled as many of them as she could, and then, as her heart rate and breathing increased with anxiety, she had to murmur a hasty "Excuse me" and escape into the hallway behind the stage.

She slipped into a small nook in the hallway, between two decorative pillars, and was not particularly surprised to find Castle just behind her.

Castle had managed to disentangle himself from his own group of questioners when he saw Kate leaving the stage. He followed, thinking that he could easily make a habit of this - of following her, anywhere and everywhere.

"Are you okay?" he asked, wincing at how trite it sounded, but she nodded, turning to face him.

"Better than okay," she said, and her eyes were shining, but with pleasure, not tears; he was struck again by how calm she looked, and happy. Some hint of pain, some haunted darkness in her eyes that he hadn't even consciously noticed for most of the week was gone.

"Thanks for having my back in there," she said, smiling a small, enigmatic smile. "I think we should run it again, don't you?"

Castle blinked as professionalism reasserted itself. He reminded himself that Kate Beckett was no dainty flower to be protected or coddled. "Yeah," he said, "that would probably be a good idea."

"There were some shaky spots," she acknowledged, but she met his eyes confidently, no trace of embarrassment or dismay over the few mistakes she had made.

"Once more through and it'll be fine," he nodded. More than fine, he thought, incredible, fantastic, but he left it at that.

"Once more unto the breach," she murmured, humor sparkling in her eyes.

You sounded great, he wanted to say, or You inspire me, or You're extraordinary, but he didn't want to freak her out - or, worse, make her laugh at him at the wrong moment. "I hope I didn't push too hard," was what slipped out, and he grimaced, because that wasn't what he wanted to say either.

Beckett studied him, shaking her head slowly. "No," she said, quietly. "You pushed just enough."

"Beckett," he said, even more quietly, taking a small step closer to her, and another. Close enough to touch. Close enough for the heat of their bodies to meet and make his breath stutter in his throat. She swallowed, her eyes tracking his face.

"Yeah?" she answered, low.

"What would happen if I kissed you right now?" Castle asked. His voice came out hoarse, husky with everything he was feeling as he looked at Kate with the sound of her singing still thrumming through his head.

She stared into his eyes, her lips slightly parted. The rhythmic movement of her chest as she breathed in and out was a tantalizing distraction at the periphery of his vision.

"We'd be late getting back to the rehearsal," she answered in a near-whisper.

Castle paused, blinked a few times. Breathed. Took a careful step back.

"Yeah. You're right. You're right."

She moved past him and out of the nook, her shoulder brushing his on the way. "Come on, Castle. Let's go make some music."

He had to close his eyes and take a couple more deep, slow breaths before he could follow.

Kate slid back into her chair, hoping that her face didn't look too pink in the unforgiving lights of the stage. Her skin still tingled all over from the thrill that had rushed through her when Castle spoke.

To distract herself, and get back into performance mode, she leaned over toward her stand-mate and said, "Is that going to be okay? Just for those three recits and the aria."

"Yes, of course," Yukiko assured her. "No problem at all, Kate. It's going to be awesome."

"Thanks."

Then Castle was back, resuming his spot on the podium and calling, "Let's get back to it, everyone." As the group began to return to their places, he added, "I'd like to run the rest of the program in order, if possible, and then we're going to circle back to a few spots."

So they launched into Lift Up Your Heads, and Kate found her usual confidence returning in spades as she settled back into her accustomed seat and role.

They played and sang through the remainder of the concert program, and when they had finished, Castle turned to the three soloists and shook their hands.

As the soloists departed, he turned to address the chorus and said, "Great work, everyone. You folks are free to go now. We're just going to run through Rejoice Greatly one more time."

The orchestra members shifted and murmured in their chairs. Kate caught Castle's eye and said calmly, "Maestro, you should tell everyone what time you want them here tomorrow."

"Oh, right." He looked a little flummoxed, so she took pity on him.

"An hour before concert time is probably sufficient, unless you want to run anything in full," she prompted.

Castle nodded quickly. "Okay, so be here at noon, then, everyone. Good?"

There were nods from all the assembled musicians, but few of the chorus members moved to leave their seats. Kate felt her face heat up anew as she realized that they were waiting to hear her sing again.

"Ready?" Castle asked her, and she nodded, slowly rising. Yukiko slid over into the first chair as Kate made her way again to the soloist's place at the front of the stage.

Her second time singing through Rejoice Greatly went even better than the first time. Recovered from their surprise, the orchestra played perfectly, and Kate's confidence was high. She sailed easily through the spots that had tripped her up the first time, and even essayed a small amount of embellishment on the cadences. At the end, she was smiling, and so was Castle, and much of the orchestra. And, unexpectedly, the remaining chorus members who hadn't left yet burst into applause.

Kate blushed and smiled, mouthing 'Thank you' to the assembled group.

"Thank you, everyone," Castle said. "Get a good night's sleep, okay?"

As the musicians began to pack up and leave, Castle stepped down from the podium, thinking about how to approach Beckett. He was itching to talk to her about everything that had happened today - he was itching, in fact, to ask her to dinner; but an unaccustomed hesitation took him over. Normally, Rick Castle wasn't the kind of guy who allowed fear of rejection to stop him from approaching a woman. But Kate Beckett was not just any woman.

He was still hesitating over this when he saw Kate turn her head to track the movement of someone on the audience floor. Looking, Castle saw that it was Howard Grainger, walking down the center aisle, calling Kate's name.

As Howard puffed his way up the stairs onto the stage, Castle moved over behind Beckett to blatantly eavesdrop.

"Kate, you sounded marvelous. Truly beautiful," Howard began as he approached.

"Thank you," she replied coolly. "I didn't realize you were listening."

"Oh yes. I was at the back," he said, gesturing negligently. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that although it's fairly last-minute, we've put together an insert for the program, to highlight your role as soprano soloist."

"Oh." Beckett looked surprised. "You didn't have to do that, Howard."

"I know, I know, you're not in it for the fame and fortune," her boss nodded, "but still, it would look odd to have nothing in the program, and since it was too late to have them all reprinted, that was the way we decided to go." He paused, and went on, "We've also issued a press release."

"Oh," she said again, faintly, and although Castle could only see her profile, it seemed to him that she had paled at the thought.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked Howard, not even caring that he was butting in.

"Well, from the publicity standpoint, yes," Howard replied unrepentantly. "With all due respect, Maestro, some folks are already planning to come to the concerts just to see you, but the addition of Kate to the program - given her history, her family background, you know - will definitely put more butts in the seats."

"And that's what it's all about," Beckett murmured, turning her face away. Castle looked at her in some concern.

"Howard," he began, a little angrily, but she turned back and forestalled him with a raised hand.

"No. It's fine," she said firmly. "Thanks for the warning, Howard." She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and turned away again, folding her arms defensively across her stomach.

"Well, see you tomorrow," Howard said to Castle, awkwardly, holding out his hand. Castle shook it, sighing and nodding.

"Yes, see you tomorrow."

After Howard left, Castle turned back to Beckett, who seemed to be lost in thought. He wasn't even sure she knew he was there; but then Lanie approached, followed by several other singers and players, saying to Kate "Ready?" and to Castle "Are you joining us, Maestro?"

"Joining you for what?" he asked, and Kate looked over at him, her eyes widening.

"Oh, Castle, I forgot to mention," she said. "We usually go out to dinner after the dress rehearsal. It's kind of a tradition."

"What, the whole orchestra?" he exclaimed in some surprise.

"Not hardly," Lanie laughed, "though everyone's welcome, but there are just about a dozen of us regulars."

"We always go to Remy's," one of the clarinetists told him. "It's a burger joint a few blocks away. They have the most amazing french fries and milkshakes."

"Sounds great," Castle said. "I'd love to join you."

Author's Note: Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter! I hope you all had a lovely holiday weekend. My family had a fun but exhausting trip to NYC, not including any visits to "Castle" locations, although we saw several places featured in Nikki Heat books.

I originally estimated that this story would run to 15 chapters, but it now becomes clear that it will go a little longer than that. My new guess is approx. 18 chapters but don't quote me!