Kate barely talked to him, hardly even looked at him, when he came by her room later in the evening. She wouldn't meet his eyes and shot down any and all efforts he made at conversation. When he asked her if she wanted him to stay, she shook her head in declination, which surprisingly hurt more than he had been prepared for. But ever the gentleman he tried to be, he accepted her rejection and bowed out, wishing her a good night before he softly shut her door.
He didn't stop by her room again that next morning, or afternoon, decided he would give her space to work through whatever was bothering her, but when she refused to acknowledge him the next night, he took a seat on her bed and unsuccessfully attempted to wait her out.
"I don't like when you're upset," he murmured after fifteen minutes of her obstinately staring at her hands while he silently willed her to meet his eyes. "Especially when you're upset with me."
That got a gentle tug of her lips upwards.
"It's evident that I care about you, Kate." She hesitantly lifted her eyes, allowing him to hold her gaze, finally, but there was unmistakable warmth swimming in the soft pools of amber and green, urging him to continue. "So if there's something wrong, if I did something, you have to tell me. You can't just shut me out."
"You haven't done anything," she sighed quietly, lowering her eyes back to her lap and tenderly taking his hand, trapping it between both of hers. "I just figured – I don't want to interfere with your relationship."
"My…relationship?" he repeated, suddenly very confused.
"With Gina."
He snorted. "Why the hell would I be in a relationship with Gina? How do you even know who Gina is?"
Kate's eyebrows knitted together.
"Lisa told me you two were…" The sentence trailed and her cheeks turned pink with what he assumed was embarrassment over the lie she had been fed.
"Lisa told you I was dating Gina?" he surmised.
She chuckled wryly and nodded as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "She really hates me."
"Why?" Rick questioned, concern and a good dose of irritation bubbling in his chest. He knew Lisa had a thing for him, she always had, but he had turned her down. Multiple times. She hadn't appeared crushed by the rejection - she had honestly seemed unfazed by it - but apparently, she wasn't as accepting as he'd originally thought.
"You know why," was all she said in return, but it was enough.
"I'm assigning someone new to work with you. I won't have-"
"No," she protested immediately. "I won't be here much longer and I'm not going to let Lisa think her petty little fits of jealousy bothered me enough to tattle to my doctor. It doesn't even bother me at all."
"It bothered you today," he pointed out, but she stubbornly pursed her lips in response. "You shouldn't have to put up with that kind of unnecessary drama. You have enough to worry about without Lisa coming in here spurting lies about me and my ex."
"So you did date?"
She didn't appear upset over the information – why would she be? – only determined to know the whole story, as always.
Rick sighed, but nodded, making what was likely a stupid decision in that split second.
"You want the truth?"
Her face remained neutral, unreadable, but she arched an eyebrow at him for the question.
"I always want the truth."
"Gina and I did date, years ago, but the only relationship we have now is a working one."
"Gina works in the hospital?"
"No, she's my publisher," he confessed sheepishly, but still her expression gave nothing away.
He could clearly see how she was once a high-ranking detective. He couldn't read her at all, but he was sure she was reading him as easily as one of his own books.
"Your publisher?" she parroted back dubiously.
"I told you I liked to write," he offered as explanation. "But I wanted to be able to keep this job, so I started writing under a different name, a pseudonym. Gina's been my publisher for nearly twenty years."
Rick allowed her a moment to digest the information, noticing the clarity flare subtly but golden in her eyes even as she forced that look of indifference to remain. Gina would kill him for sharing this, even if it wasn't truly revealing. They had worked hard over the years to keep his true identity a secret, which wasn't always easy, and simply allowing Kate to know he had a double life put him in a threatening form of jeopardy. As both Gina and his agent, Paula, always said, the less that knew the truth, the better.
Kate's shoulders loosened a bit though, and the thumping of his heart slowed as she relaxed back into the plethora of pillows behind her.
"And this name would be?"
He grinned. "Nice try."
"I'll figure it out," she warned smugly.
"Maybe. We'll see just how good your skills really are, Detective."
She scoffed at the remark, but still allowed him to briefly slide his hand over hers, effortlessly twine their fingers.
"As long as you keep it a secret if you do find out."
"Don't worry, when I find out, I won't be sharing. Now it's getting late and you should go before more rumors spread."
Mockingly affronted, Rick raised his free hand to his chest and stared down at her incredulously. "Do I embarrass you? Are you ashamed to be seen with me now?"
She bit her lip, white teeth pinning the long abused flesh, and shrugged. "My reputation can only handle so much."
"Kate Beckett, you are mean."
She laughed and pushed back the hair from her face, and he was struck with an idea. Or more likely a way to stick around longer.
"Want me to braid that before I go?"
"May start rumors of a different kind, Rick."
He grunted a laugh of his own and moved to sit behind her as she reluctantly made room for him. They didn't have a brush, so he finger-combed through the chestnut strands of her hair, watching her head loll forward at the motion.
"How'd you learn to braid women's hair?"
"Internet," he answered, separating hers into three pieces and beginning to attempt a loose but neat braid from the base of her skull.
"Should I ask why?"
"I wanted to know for when Alexis was older."
She went quiet at the personal admission, curling her knees up and resting her chin there.
"You would have been a wonderful father."
It made his chest ache, that familiar yearning he had grown to recognize so well flickering to life again, but he smiled softly to himself.
"Thank you, Kate."
He tugged open the drawer to her bedside table, managed to find an elastic rubber band - not a hairband but close enough - and wrapped it around the tail of the braid.
"There," he announced proudly, smoothing his hand down the plaited tresses. "I'll get back on the internet tonight and next time we can try one of those French kinds."
"Can we do my nails too?"
"Only if you're good."
Something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle fell from her mouth and her eyes were sparkling with mirth when he rose from the bed and came back around.
He must have been staring - part of him in awe of the fact that he could put a look like that on her face - because she huffed and cocked her head towards the door.
"Go, Doctor. Like I said, it's late and the staring's creepy."
He left, only because he knew if he stayed, he'd risk creeping her out for the rest of his visit.
Kate had instructed he come around her room less, and despite how much he disliked the idea, he followed her rules. He bided his time for her, only stopping by her room once every other day for the next week, bringing her decaffeinated coffee if it was a morning visit, a paperback novel if it was later in the day. Rick could handle seeing her in moderation, as long as his visitation rights weren't permanently revoked.
That Friday night he walked in, proud of himself for following her set of regulations for an entire seven days, but his pride deflated when he saw Kate in her hospital bed with one of his books in her lap, her nose and eyes both red and puffy.
Instinctively, he rushed to her, imploring what was wrong and if she was all right, but she only placed the book on the bedside table and tugged on his arm, wordlessly demanding he join her in the narrow hospital bed. Confused but compliant, Rick hesitantly slid in next to her, and as soon as he did, Kate wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his chest. A steady stream of tears pooled in the fabric of his dark blue dress shirt while he stroked her braided hair and murmured soothing words into her crown as she cried.
He had seen Kate Beckett show emotion far more than she liked, always managing to catch her in a moment of weakness or frustration, but he had never witnessed her weep like this, never with so much pain. He spared a glance over her head and saw the cover of Storm Fall glaring back at him. But it still made no sense.
He knew he had purposely made the death of Derrick Storm a tearjerker, but he hadn't expected Kate to be one to shed tears over the deceased fictional character, especially not like this.
"I bring you Nicholas Sparks and you're completely dry eyed. You read Richard Castle and the floodgates open," he murmured jokingly into her temple and smiled victoriously when she huffed a laugh against his clavicle.
The tears had ceased and her breathing had begun to even out, and he distinctly heard her mutter something into his chest about her mother, but she was surrendering to sleep before he could even consider broaching the subject.
Rick sighed and carefully began extracting himself from his dozing patient, selfish disappointment hovering over him because they had been unable to engage in one of their usual chats he enjoyed so much - too much - but Kate suddenly clutched the neck of his collar before he could completely abandon the bed.
"Stay."
"Kate-"
"Just stay," she mumbled and he obeyed her, too loyal and too unwilling to deny any type of request from her. He couldn't mind though, not when Kate Beckett pressed her body snug against his, nuzzled his neck, and draped one of her lithe legs over his thigh.
Rick hesitantly wrapped his arm around her back, rested his hand on her shoulder and his chin atop her head, and repeatedly tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong or inappropriate about sharing a hospital bed with her, his patient.