V

Verve

Central Park was alive. It wasn't simple there to see, it was the place you went to see and smell and watch and feel. There was this spirit- this verve about the place. It kept the children laughing and the couples in love and every teenage girl with a camera happy. It was loud- loud with sounds and laughter and screams and chatter. Loud with color and with the heavy gusts of wind that fall brought. Loud with life.

Kate Beckett sat on one of the benches lining the entrance to Greywacke Arch. Beside her, Rick Castle was tearing bread into little bits. She rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. This was his idea in the first place, dragging her out of bed to come to the park.

"It's fall," he told her, with big eyes she refused to meet. The second she did, she knew it would be the end of her resolve. She was sprawled out on their bed, the white sheets covering up to her belly button, a long leg escaping the confines. He was lying beside her, his hair looked like it always did after good sex- disheveled, sticking up in ways that shouldn't be possible, inventing a few cardinal directions. She stared at the ceiling, pretending to ignore him.

That was increasingly hard considering the way his hand was tracing patterns on her bare midriff, his lips on her shoulder between words. "It's gorgeous, there will be some shows circulating, I'm sure of it." She looked at him, skeptically. "Please?"

He rose to his knees on the bed, clutching a pillow to his naked body, hope and excitement in his big blue eyes. She gave in and looked, knowing she was going to lose this one. She saw him, bouncing slightly, almost like a little child on Christmas morning. She wanted him to move the pillow, but she didn't say that, just arched an eyebrow, expectantly. She may lose, but she wasn't going to make it easy.

"We could feed the pigeons," he suggested, earning the beautiful smile he had been angling for all morning.

"Fiiiiine," she sighed, standing, the white sheet abandoned. She felt his eyes follow her to the bathroom where she disappeared behind the door. He jumped up to follow her himself, but he got the door in his face.

"C'mon, Kate!"

"No!" he heard her laughter through the door, along with her muffled response. "You want to go to the park."

And so here they sat, bodies touching, ever slightly, as she leaned into him. He handed her some of the torn up bread bits, and they tossed the pieces into the street. She watched in wonder as the birds flocked, gathering like starving animals to devour the food. Two got in a tuff over a particular piece, until a third came, ended the fight and flew off with the bread.

When they ran out of bread and all the birds lost interest, they sat, content to watch people pass by. They made up stories for each one, taking turns spinning tales of their lives, their families, their destinations. Eventually it was just him, whispering his stories into her ear while she lost herself in them.

They had shifted- she was now leaning against the metal arm of the bench, her legs bent and her feet planted on the other side of him, his hands on her legs, comfortingly. She dipped her head so the side of it met his shoulder, his nose in her hair as he spoke to her.

"We should do this again," she told him, smile a genuine smile that sent a tidal wave of warmth to his heart. He rubbed her knee, lovingly.

"Sometime soon."

"Yeah," she whispered back.

"80 years- Same place, same time?" he asked her. She scrunched up her nose.

"Too long."

"And you call me the impatient one!"

"I would be 105, Castle."

"I would wheel you out here." He indicated with his hands pushing a wheelchair.

"You would be -" But he silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips, which curled into a smile. "How about 40 years from now?"

"You drive a hard bargain, detective," he told her, earning another smile when his lips found her cheek. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her into him. "Me. You. 40 years."

He pulled away so he could see her eyes.

"Right here." His arms tightened around her, indicating what he meant.

"You'll bring the bread?"

Sorry this took so long, folks. My muse went on Vacation.

It's back, though, so no worries.

If you review, it will stay.

Just throwing that out there.