#4: RINGER
1x07 "Home Is Where the Heart Stops," 1x08 "Ghosts," and 5x24 "Watershed"
"Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirms their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment—that which they cannot anticipate." ―Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Today she's learned two things about Richard Castle that she didn't already know.
One: He can shoot a target. A stationary target posing no threat, but a target nonetheless. Three shots straight to the 10-ring put her to shame. She doesn't ask, but she expects it has something to do with past "research."
And two: He's not as egotistical as she thought. He's even worse. He'll put his pride on the line just long enough that he can gain the advantage. He'll pretend he can't shoot for shit if it means he gets what he wants. He's a ringer.
"You got to watch those silhouettes," he told her when he found her firing off some steam in the shooting range. "They can be shifty little bastards."
She's looking at a shifty little bastard all right. Shamelessly she pictures concentric rings on him like he's a man made of paper. He only saunters ahead of her, ready to claim his prize.
She should have known after what happened last week at the shooting range. She should have known what it would mean to play poker with him.
She just didn't expect him to let her win. Usually a ringer cons for his sake—his own financial gain, his own pride, his own benefit—not for someone else's.
She's not sure how she feels about this. She's insulted that he would be this condescending to her and just a little bit flattered that he would be this selfless for her and it's all a mess of things she won't talk about and things she never thought she'd know about him.
She decides she wants a rematch; a chance to crush him will keep her from getting soft.
And then she finds out that she's no better than he is. She spares him, too. Spares him and that ego she thinks she hates.
It isn't until they wager for Gummy Bears and agree to no mercy that she realizes she likes the ego intact in a fair fight.
They're pretty well matched, even if she does eventually win.
His look of genuine defeat is actually endearing. She decides it's endearing not because she's a coldhearted competitor (even if she can be, and she can be with Rick Castle, as long as they've both promised to be merciless), but because genuine looks good on him.
And she's pleased to see that it doesn't end there.
With genuine sportsmanship, he congratulates her on a game well played. With genuine self-deprecation, he says he hopes they'll play again so he can earn back a bit of his dignity.
With genuine graciousness, he offers to take any flavors of Gummy Bears that she doesn't actually like, but only if there are flavors that she doesn't actually like.
He doesn't even suggest that she doesn't like the mango or the banana gummies, a detail which, knowing Castle, he has all too likely noticed by now.
They're smiling through the whole thing. It's getting late, and they're both getting bleary-eyed and hungry for non-gelatinous food; and despite all that, neither of them admits it aloud or seems to be in any real hurry to leave. They're smiling, and for one of the first times in their brief acquaintance, their one-on-one camaraderie feels real.
She offers him a consolation prize of Gummy Bears To-Go—even some of the cherry ones she likes, and he rewards her unexpected gesture with a look of genuine gratitude.
It's a close call, really, but she thinks she likes that look even better than his look of defeat.
He tells her he's been doing a lot of thinking about their relationship, about what they have and where they're headed. This confession comes after the one year that the relationship has been intimately real. Two and half years since he first promised her always. Four years since she shared her cherry Gummy Bears.
"I've decided I want more," he says. "We both deserve more."
He's thinking of himself, but he's thinking of her, too. That's why he's about to break it off with her. She tells herself that no matter how much this loss will hurt, she can console her broken heart later with the memory of a man she will always admire—a man simultaneously capable of both self-respect and selflessness.
She loves him even more for that.
This is honestly going to hurt.
And then, just when she least expects it, he's kneeling beside her swing, a ring between his fingers.
Today she's learned two things about Richard Castle that she didn't already know.
One: This, as it turns out, is not the face of solemn defeat, but rather the face of solemn decision.
And two: He wants to marry her.
