Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

Kate and Al were a little earlier than the half an hour she told Castle they would be but Kate couldn't have accurately predicted that New York wasn't experiencing any traffic accidents or crazy tourists on the ride from Pier 25 to the Bowery address. With a hand on Al's shoulder to keep the girl close, Kate leaned against one of the poles holding up the awning with the bar's name in an old fashioned coat-of-arms, glancing back at the entrance to the place which appears to be underground. Interesting.

He claimed it was perfectly safe, that he had been there before and knew some of the people who ran the place. Plus, it was still early for the bar-crawlers to be out and causing trouble.

"You ladies waiting to go in?"

A man with a head of thick grey curls smiled at her, his hands in the pockets of his coat. He was a few steps down toward the bar, looking back up at Kate and Al, his back arched against the wind that whipped down the stairs.

"Waiting for a friend," she replied, fingers brushing Al's jacket to make sure she was still there.

"A regular? Maybe I know him."

Before Kate could say they'd just wait, Al gave a little jump on the balls of her feet. "We're gonna see Rick again!"

"Rick Castle?" He looked to Kate for confirmation and she nodded, running her hand over Al's head to try and calm her down. "Come on down, then. You can claim a good booth and wait for him show up."

Al was off following the man even as he continued to talk.

"I'm Eddie," he said, holding the door at the base of the stairs open for them. "I play the piano here most nights. Rick hasn't been around in a while. He's a character, you know. Like something out one of his books."

Kate was hit by the smell, stopped just inside the entrance. Yes, there was the scent of beer and salty pretzels, but there was also something else hovering under the most typical of bar-smells, one Kate couldn't quite put a finger on.

Eddie uncovered the piano in the middle of the room, hitting a few of the keys to make sure the instrument was in tune. Al had slipped onto the bench, her fingers hesitating over the keys before pressing one down. Her giggle was a harmony to the note that rang out in the bar.

"Mom! I played!" she shouted, twisting on the bench to face Kate.

She scooped Al up under the arms, blowing a raspberry on her neck before setting her on her feet again. "You did! Very pretty. Let's get a seat and wait for Rick, okay? Maybe Eddie will play a song for us."

Across from the long bar of dark polished wood were a few booths. Al squirmed out of Kate's hold and ran over to the middle one, climbing onto the seat, pulling her jacket off and handing it to her mother. Kate took the seat across from the girl after hanging up their jackets on one of the hooks, feeling Al's toes kick at her knees as she swung them in excitement.

A waitress came over, asked if they needed anything. The order of just three glasses of water had the young woman blinking but she left to get the drinks with a smile for Al. Eddie started to play something old and bluesy and Kate could hear the tune for 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' under all of the ornamentation. The old man winked at her when she glanced over, giving a nod toward Al who was smiling and bobbing her head along with the music, her eyes closed.

Then he walked in, unbuttoning his coat as he came down the side of the bar. His eyes were scanning the dimly lit booths for them. Kate gave Al a little kick under the table and the girl's eyes popped open, looking around.

"Hi!"

Castle navigated the clusters of chairs and round tables to get to their booth. "Hey," he said, hanging his black coat up next to their caramel and blue ones. "Nice place, huh?"

"Eddie's cool!" Al exclaimed as Castle slid into the booth next to her. "He's playing some songs for us."

"He only plays for the pretty girls, you know," Castle whispered secretively to the girl next to him.

Al's shoes bumped Kate's legs again as she grinned. "Hear that, Mom! He said you're pretty!"

Castle's eyes meet hers across the table and she could feel his feet close to hers in the darkness under it. "Yes, well, maybe he was talking about you, Al." Kate takes a sip of her water, pulling her feet back against the wood of the bench.

"Both of you, actually." His grin was soft as his fingers wrap around his glass, taking a sip as he watched for a reaction. He got two: the seat cushion shook as Al wiggled in delight and Kate's head dipped down, hiding the quick flutter of her lashes as she smiled. "More than just pretty, I think. The better adjective might be beautiful or stunning."

He was pushing for a reason, to see if Kate was still angry at him for letting down Al with the coffee shop. From the feedback he was getting around him, the Beckett women had forgiven him.

"This is new," he said, brushing a hand over Al's braid.

Al puffed up, smiling bright enough to be seen even in the dark of the pub. "It's a princess braid. Only princesses can wear it so you can't." She reaches up and ruffles the bit of his hair she can touch above his ear. "Too short."

"That's right. Way too short." He runs a hand over his head. "You think I should grow it out so I can have a princess braid?" Her wrinkled nose is answer enough so Castle turns to Kate, who had been watching the two interact. "What do you think, Kate? Yes or no?"

"I'm with Al on this one. Keep it short, Mr. Castle." When he narrowed his eyes at her, Kate shrugged. Not quite ready to switch to first names yet, no matter how much he wants her to. And that look he's shooting her is definitely telling her that he wants that switch to happen right now.

So Kate deflected, folding her hands on the tabletop and looking across the table at Castle mostly, but Al's in the corner of her eyesight, playing with the salt and pepper shakers like they were people. "Why'd you want to talk?"

He shifted and Kate could read the nerves radiating from his being. "Actually, and don't take this the wrong way," he insisted, holding his left hand up defensively, "but I started writing." She arched a brow as if saying 'duh' but he charged on, not wanting to lose momentum or courage. "New series since I ki…"

Oh. Well that detail wasn't out to the public yet and Gina would murder him if he leaked it. But he couldn't very well share the fact that the only reason he was starting a new series was because Derrick wouldn't be surviving his latest adventure with Clara and the CIA. Kate was watching him, wondering where the hell he was going with this whole deal, and in that moment, Castle decided he trusted her to keep the secret.

"I killed off Derrick Storm. And it's partially-"

"You killed off Derrick?" she said, shocked and sad at the same time. Even her voice, a quiet murmur, had him stopping. "But… Why?"

A reaction he hadn't been expecting. He sat, watched her face go through a range of emotions, her fingers twisting her watch around her wrist, blinking rapidly, nibbling her lower lip, her brows pulled together. In the back of his mind, Castle had to think that she didn't need an explanation of who the fictional PI was; Kate Beckett had read his books.

"Mom?" Al asked, abandoning the shakers and taking her mother's hands in her little ones. "Okay?"

She smiled, a little forced but there for Al's sake. "Yeah, kid. I'm good." Then she turned back to Castle, nodding. "So you killed Derrick. And now?" Kate kept her fingers on one of Al's hands, letting her grab the pepper shaker to play with again.

"I started writing a new short story. Female main character." Castle keeps his eyes on hers, watching for realization and wondering how many hints she'll need. "Fondness for coffee. Striking good looks." Kate's brows are still drawn together but he can see her getting his drift. "A detective."

Kate shook her head, slow and steady. "You're joking, right?" she says firmly, looking up at him, her fingers tightening on Al's. "This is a joke."

And now to talk his way out of this and still get her blessing. "Only if you want it to be a joke, but I've become rather fond of her in the past few days. But I won't continue if you don't want me to."

"What's wrong?" Al asked, pulling her hand out of Kate's grasp to reclaim the salt shaker, clinking the two glass bottles together, hearing the snap of the metal caps.

"Nothing, Al." Kate let her head fall into her palm, rubbing her forehead and allowing her short nails to scrape over her skin, taking a deep breath, clearing her lungs. "So I'm what? Your muse?"

Castle hesitated, trying to read her tone to find out if she was angry or something else. Blank read. Obviously those years of running interrogations with poker faces had paid off for Kate. "Again, only if you'll let me write it like that. I don't want to do this if you want to keep your life private."

She wasn't sure if she wanted to grab Al and run or just sit and stare. Another part wanted to call her father and ask his advice but Kate had a suspicion of what that advice would be. Do it.

"What would this require? This muse thing." See what he had planned first. Then she would make a decision because, through all of this, there was Al to consider. Kate didn't want her five year old thrust into the spotlight because her mother was spending time with Richard Castle.

"I want to shadow you for a while. I like to get details right, most writers do," he said. His voice was calmer, less frenzied, now that she was a little more relaxed. "I can talk to your captain or whoever about liabilities and such. Only for a few cases to get a feel for it."

"That's it?"

"That's it," he responded with a nod. "Nothing big or flashy."

Kate's gaze was drawn away from his earnest blue eyes to Al, still acting out a play with the spices on the table, pulling a smile onto Kate's face. "What about Al? Is she in the story?"

"No. I didn't want to write her in and have you not want that for her." Al looked up at Castle, her head tilted to the side.

"Want what for me?" she asked, eyes darting between the man and the woman, the shaker play pausing.

Kate patted Al's wrist, shaking her head. "Nothing, kid. Just talking about something. It'll be a few more minutes, then we'll head back home for dinner."

"Have dinner here." Castle's words had Kate looking back at him. He shrugged. "It's a nice place. I spent a lot of time here while writing my second book and the food's good."

"Yes! Let's eat here!" Al exclaimed, knocking over the pepper shaker. "Oops."

Castle swipes the grains of pepper into his hand, brushing them under the table. "Careful with Mrs. Pepper there, Al."

One corner of Kate's mouth is turned up in a smile as she watched Castle take the salt from Al, joining in the play, head bent to hear the back stories for the two spice containers that she has created.

He thought of Al. Even as he started writing about her, using as much of her life as he had gathered, he kept her daughter out of it. Because he cared and didn't want the girl in the spotlight if Kate didn't want her there. Hell, he had even given her a choice about putting herself into the character he'd come up with. It was all so unlike the persona he put on for the press. He was a regular guy behind the over-the-top playboy.

So Kate crossed her legs, the toe of her sneaker brushing his pant leg. He looked up, brows raised.

"Okay, Rick."

And Kate knew that she was answering both of his questions.