You can thank 1822andallthat and Cora Clavia for this chapter, for suggesting shenanigans and Martha, respectively. Thanks for the ideas, you two!
The Blue Butterfly
"Coolest case ever," declared Castle as they stepped across the threshold into the loft, pizza box balanced between them as they fumbled their way through the door.
They'd wrapped up their latest case this afternoon, headed off to the Old Haunt for appetizers and drinks with Ryan and Esposito before heading their separate ways. Kate had suggested picking up a pizza on the way home, and between the alcohol and the large pizza box and both of them attempting to walk through the doorway at the same time, coordination wasn't exactly happening.
"Even cooler than the time you found that old PI's journal and read it and started imagining you and I as those people from the past?" Kate asked, the memory fresh on her mind from reading his journal entry about it just days earlier.
"What? I did no such thing!" he denied, finally making it into the loft.
"Castle."
More vehemence this time. "What? I didn't."
"Really?" she raised an eyebrow. "You really expect me to believe that you didn't? I caught you saying my name instead of hers."
"No I didn't," Castle protested, half-laughing as he attempted to cover up the truth in that not-so-subtle way of his.
"Insist all you want, but I've never believed you."
He snorted.
"And, I'm pretty sure I can prove it, too."
"What? How?"
She crossed the loft to their bedroom, Castle depositing the pizza on the counter and trailing at her heels. Once in the room, Kate paused to discard her jacket and shoes before picking up their journal and beginning to flip through it nonchalantly. Castle's reaction was instant, nearly diving across the bed to reach for the journal the moment he realized what she was after. But Kate was quicker and she dashed across the room, out into his office and to the far side of his desk.
He appeared in the doorway moments later, lunged for her hands over the desk, but she merely stepped back out of his reach. He changed tactics then, hurrying around the desk, but once again Kate was quicker and stepped back into the living room.
She was next to one arm of the sofa, Castle standing by the other, when a key turned in the lock and the door swung open to reveal Martha, dressed in a bedazzled outfit and still made up from her performance tonight.
Castle took Kate's moment of distraction and darted after her, reaching one hand out for the journal before seemingly noticing that they had an audience.
"Mother..."
"Darling, whatever is going on out here?" Her eyes flickered distinctly from Kate to Castle and back again, silently raised an eyebrow. Thank goodness they were both still fully clothed.
"Mother, what are you doing here?"
"Well, my super having some repairs done in the building and, if you'll recall, I did mention I'd be staying with you for the weekend."
Castle gulped, glanced at Kate who was fixing him with a raised eyebrow and a daring expression. "It must have slipped my mind?" he offered sheepishly.
"Well don't mind me, I'll just make myself scarce and let you two get back to..." she flitted her hand in their direction, "whatever it is you're doing."
Kate was trying hard not to blush when she suddenly felt the journal being tugged out of her hands. "Castle!" she exclaimed, arm jerking out to snatch it back.
"Darling, really?" Martha asked, mock disapproval. "Haven't you outgrown the days of not being able to share?"
"I'm not... it's... ours," he stammered, holding up the journal.
"Your what, exactly?"
"Journal," Castle answered as though it was obvious. "It's..."
Martha held up her hands, bringing his words to an abrupt halt. "I don't think I need to know what's in it, Richard. My imagination can fill in the blanks."
"Oh, Martha, no, it's not..." Kate spoke up, suddenly hit with the urge to clarify that it wasn't – whatever Martha was assuming it was. Castle glanced at Kate, curious as to what she would say, but before she spoke again, she caught his eye, waited for his silent nod of approval. "It's just letters."
"To Kate," he added.
Martha seemed intrigued now, stepped closer to examine the journal. "Ah, yes, I've always wondered what that was. I used to see Richard writing in it all the time, but every time I entered the room he would abruptly hide it away."
"I did n..."
"Richard, please," the woman interrupted. "Subtlety has never been your strong point."
"I have to agree with her there," Kate chimed in with an apologetic shrug of one shoulder.
"So now I'm curious," Martha began, stepping towards Kate. "What does he write in these letters?"
She shrugged, reached out and slipped the book from Castle's hands, buying herself time to decide exactly what to divulge. "Observations, mostly. At least that's how it started. Things he noticed about me. Sometimes he writes about the case or something he learned. Now it's deeper, though. More personal and emotional."
She thought back to the letter they'd read just two days earlier, the reason she'd gone after the journal in the first place, because she knew she'd be able to prove him wrong.
Dear Kate,
You know one of the things I love most about you? You love to read. You're so well informed, and we can have intelligent conversations – something that's difficult to find these days. You understand literature and literary techniques, and I think you're the only woman outside of Black Pawn who I've actually been able to talk to about that kind of thing. You're wicked smart (which is so very sexy). You have a great vocabulary (which is incredibly hot). And you hold an appreciation for the written word (including my books, which is very flattering).
The other thing I love about your love of reading is that you long for the story. Just like me. It's not quite the same, I know. I see a beginning and an ending and come up with a story to explain it. You read to find out how the story ends. It's different, but in some ways it's very similar. And what you do as a detective is similar to what I do when I write.
I loved this case, and not just because of the PI's journal, or because I got to re-create their story in my head. I loved it because a decades old story finally got its happy ending. I loved it because of the way Joe and Vera's story drew you in. I loved it because of the way you handled their situation (and it makes me love you even a little more knowing that you were completely captured by the two of them). I loved it because somewhere in all of that, I could see us.
I've always been of the opinion that the ending of a story will work itself out eventually. I've always believed that you and I will, too, so I haven't spent a whole lot of time considering the hows and whys of you and me that far into the future. But when I saw them together, I could see it. I could see us in their shoes, us living their story (minus, you know, the killing people and changing our names part of it). In my head, it was all so clear. The way they felt about each other, the pure love and adoration... that's how I feel about you, Kate.
True, it took me a little longer than four days to get to that point. But if they can fall madly in love and elope in under a week and still be happy all these years later, I have faith that you and I will sort ourselves out one day and be able to begin the next chapter of our story, too.
Love,
Rick
"Huh. Well, it sounds interesting," Martha offered with a thoughtful nod.
Kate smiled gently, forcing herself out of her reverie. "It is," she offered, eyes still slightly glazed as she teetered on the edge of the memory.
"Alright, well I'm off to bed," Martha announced after a quick moment, breaking the brief pause in conversation. "You two have fun."
With a flourish, she whirled around and made her way up the stairs, heels clicking down the hallway until the door of her bedroom closed behind her.
Kate turned then, found Castle smiling at her adoringly. "What?"
He shook his head. "Just... hearing you describe it to her."
She smiled, shrugged. "Well, it's true."
Castle grinned in agreement. "You know, someday someone's going to stumble across this notebook and be intrigued by it."
"Like you were with the PI's diary?" she joked, looping the conversation back around.
"I wasn't."
Kate loosely flipped back through to the right page, underlined his words with her fingers. "Right here."
Castle was struck with the urge to stick his tongue out at her but refrained. "Fine, maybe I did think that."
"Told you." Childish but oh so satisfying.
"Either way, when some unknown individual stumbles upon this someday, he's going to have an interestingly convoluted story at his fingertips."
"Oh really?"
"You have to admit, we have a pretty good story," he pointed out.
Kate smiled at the thought. "We kind of do, don't we?"
"Writer falls in love with muse; the story of how it took him four years to convince her to go out with him," Castle announced, spreading a fake banner in the air with his hands.
Kate rolled her eyes. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because Nikki Heat is already immortalizing our story. This," she held up the journal, "is private."
"So you don't want some rich and famous novelist to uncover it one day and try to put together the mystery?"
"What mystery?" Kate asked, closing the journal and setting it aside. "Need I remind you, the other journal was only a mystery because people were murdered."
That silenced him, at least for a few moments, before he spoke again. "Right. Well, they can turn it into a movie and it will be one of the great love stories of all time."
She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Well I suppose..." he began, was silenced by her fingers over his lips.
"How about we just enjoy writing our own story and let the universe figure out the rest," Kate suggested,
Now it was Castle's turn to raise an eyebrow. "The universe? How very mystical of you."
She shrugged. "Yeah well, I guess I've learned that you just never know where life will take you."
Silence fell at her words while Castle marveled at how far she'd come since he'd begun his quest to help her believe in magic and fate. He knew it was still a struggle for her at times to have the same blind and unwavering faith in them that he possessed. But maybe, just maybe, she was closer to believing than he thought. And he knew exactly how to continue convincing her.
He offered a hand, far more dramatically than strictly necessary. "Well in the meantime, Detective, can the universe allow me to take you to bed?"
Kate smiled, eyes twinkling, and clasped her free hand in his. "Always."
The pizza box lay forgotten on counter.
Thoughts?