Twenty-one

"So you know my mother's new play?" Castle pulled a dish from beneath the hot water spray of the faucet. He shook off the excess liquid and passed it to his towel wielding partner. The two of them were practicing their well-perfected post-dinner clean up routine while Alexis worked on her homework that Thursday evening.

"You mean the absolute role of a lifetime; the one that just reeks of a Tony," Kate responded with a bemused expression. She heard all about the elder woman's latest role the prior weekend when she ate dinner with the full Castle clan for the first time. During that same meal was when she learned her partner hadn't always been a Castle, but a Rodgers; he'd changed his name before his first publication and never changed it back. Needless to say, the meal had been endlessly entertaining and joyous payback after their meal with her father three weeks prior.

"That's the one," he smiled at her. He shut off the water after the final dish was cleaned. Reaching for a dish towel to dry his hands, he leaned his back against the counter. "From what I've heard this one actually might not be as painful as some of the other's she's been in, which is nice; maybe it'll be open longer than a week."

Kate chuckled. "I'm sure your mother would appreciate that."

He nodded. "She would. Anyway, it opens next weekend and Mother gave me two tickets. I was thinking you could be my date."

Despite her partner's smile, Kate flinched at the key word in his invitation. Date. That wasn't exactly something she was keen on. Deciding a polite approach was best, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned her eyes towards the floor. "Oh, I don't know."

Castle's brow winkled as he tossed the towel on the counter behind him and folded his arms over his chest. "What's wrong? You like plays right? I mean, it could totally be horrible, but at least we'd be there together."

Kate let out a gentle laugh. "Yeah I just don't think that's a good idea. Sounds like a family thing." She shrugged, hoping he would drop the subject, but of course he didn't.

"It's not. Mother says Alexis shouldn't go because it's a little too adult, but that might make it more entertaining."

With a heavy exhale, Kate took two steps towards the edge of the kitchen. "I just don't think we should do that."

"Go to the play?"

Kate lowered her chin to her chest. He was going to make her say it, wasn't he? Damn, this was not the kind of confrontation she was in the mood for that evening, but if she had to… Taking a deep breath, Kate looked up at her partner with a stone expression. "Date—do date things."

He laughed at first, thinking she surely must have been making a joke, but then he saw her face and how serious her expression was and his grin disappeared. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Seriously, what the hell was she talking about? She didn't think they should date? Do date things? What did that even—oh.

It hit him so unexpectedly. Did she mean-? But no, that didn't make sense! That had been the prior summer when she told him she wasn't looking for a boyfriend or a relationship, just sex. That was months ago. She couldn't possibly…or, could she?

"Wait, seriously?" he finally asked.

Kate stuffed her hands down into her back jean pockets and shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're surprised." He wasn't going to pin this on her—no way. She wasn't surprising him with anything. That's why she had told him how she felt right from the get-go. She didn't want to mislead him. "I was up front with you, Castle. I told you-"

"Bullshit," he spat, interrupting her. "That is complete and utter bullshit and you know it, Kate. It may have started out that way, but not now. Not after…" Castle let his voice drift off as he huffed out a breath from his nose. How was this happening? How were they even having this conversation?

He knew she was skittish—that much was clear, but they'd come so far, especially in the past six weeks. She was eating dinner with his family, even helping him cook the meal! More so, she seemed to look forward to it. If that wasn't relationship-like behavior, he didn't know what was.

Taking a deep breath, he looked her squarely in the eye. "We see each other every day—every day. Either at work or at night or both. You eat dinner here three times a week now. How can you…I mean, you can't…you just…" Frustrated that he, a writer, was unable to convey what he was thinking, Castle threw his hands out wide and shouted, "Damn it Kate, I'm in love with you!"

His words felt like a harpoon to her soul. The way he gazed at her—the pleading look he gave her with his ice blue stare—and that oh-so-very-important "L" word caused tears to immediately form behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It was all too much for her, so she turned away momentarily. After skimming her hand across her forehead she turned back to him, composed. "You shouldn't be…this isn't…that's not what I-"

He interrupted her with a snide tone to his voice, "Oh, right, I'm sorry. We're just screwing around, right? Or should I use your term? We're just fucking each other. That's all this is to you."

He shook his head. If she believed that—if she truly believed that—he was disgusted with her, but he wasn't ready to give up yet. She was scared and putting up her defenses, but he couldn't stop himself from pushing a bit further. "Let me ask you something, Kate. Have you been with anyone else in the past eight months? I haven't. I haven't wanted to. I never even thought about it, Kate, because I had you. And don't you dare stand there and try to act like this isn't something real." He wouldn't allow that. He wouldn't stand for her trivializing their relationship that way.

Her tone weakened, she shook her head. "It was never my intention to hurt you but... Maybe…Maybe it would be best if I asked Montgomery for a transfer." Without even waiting for his reaction, she turned and walked into the hall.

He followed her, his stomach now flipping in his gut. "What?"

Kate reached for her boots and put them on one at a time. "If…if you have these feelings for me then we shouldn't be partners anymore."

Whoa—what? What?!

This wasn't what he wanted—not at all! She was upset, sure; he understood that, and that was the exact reason they needed to talk about things. He didn't want her to do anything rash; anything they would both regret. "Wait, Kate. Hold on a second. Let's talk about this. Let's-"

"No," she refused, pulling her jacket from the clothes tree it hung on.

"Kate!" he called out her name when she opened the door, then again when she stepped out, but she shut the door behind her without ever looking back.

By the time Kate arrived on the street her eyes stung and her nose ran from holding in the tears. In her pocket, her phone vibrated incessantly. She already had two missed calls from him and she'd barely made it to the sidewalk. Stubbornly, she switched the device to airplane mode; she wasn't going to talk to him no matter how many times he called her.

As she stomped her way to the subway, Kate tried not to think of her partner and naturally failed miserably at it. He was just being ridiculous, she decided—ridiculous and stubborn.

There was no way he was in love with her—it simply wasn't possible. He might have thought he was in love with her, but he most definitely wasn't. He couldn't be in love with her because he wasn't her boyfriend; they were not dating.

And, okay, maybe he wasn't entirely to blame. She had certainly abandoned her pre-Christmas decree to keep things strictly sexual and not "relationship-y" between them. She was the one who kept agreeing to dinners and movies and other outings, but why couldn't they do such things as partners—friends—not as a couple?

You could, the more rational side of her brain told her, assuming you weren't also sleeping together.

Pushing that notion aside Kate boarded the train, dug a pair of headphones from the depths of her purse, and popped them in her ears for her ride uptown.

When Kate arrived back at her apartment, she went directly into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. After a healthy gulp, she set down the glass and stood quietly in her kitchen. Several minutes passed and she realized just how…silent her apartment was.

She couldn't hear a child's laughter or the ambient sound of typing from her computer. She couldn't hear the muttered curses of a large man as he tip-toed around crowded furniture trying to sweep the floor. The chaos of a family environment was gone and she—no. She didn't miss it; she couldn't. She simply needed a distraction.

Striding across her apartment with great purpose, Kate walked into her bedroom, dropped to the ground and fished out one of the plastic storage containers from under her bed. She flipped open the top and began piling folders, documents and pictures into her lap. If she wanted a distraction, she was going to make sure it was one hell of a good one.

Once her arms were loaded down with files, she held the stack close to her chest and waddled her way across her apartment, trying not to drop anything as she went. She dumped the stack on top of her kitchen table and then went to the desk in the corner of her sitting room to retrieve Scotch tape and markers.

If she needed something to focus on other than Castle, there was no bigger draw than her mother's murder case. This was it, she told herself; she was going to solve it. Somehow, some way, she was going to catch a break. She already found Coonan; the next clue had to be nearby. It just had to!

Kate Beckett awoke with a start. She had been dreaming about Dick Coonan's shooting, only in her mind's eye, it wasn't Coonan who ended up bleeding on the floor; it was Castle. She had inadvertently shot him while trying to drop her mother's killer.

Her heart still racing, she sat up and shook her head while blinking hazily at her surroundings. She was seated at her kitchen table, dozens of documents and photos still surrounding her. On the wall to her left, the pictures and articles she taped still hung with great care. Evidently, she'd fallen asleep while reviewing Coonan's financials. What the hell time was it, anyway?

Still groggy, she reached for her cell phone and spotted the time: 5:15 a.m. She also realized the device was still on airplane mode. Oops. She switched that mode off and set her phone down while she shuffled to the bathroom. When she returned she found she had two voicemails and six missed text messages—all from Castle.

Kate, we need to talk

Please answer my calls, Kate

C'mon—don't be like this!

Feeling her chest begin to tighten, she put the phone down and returned to the bathroom to shower. As long as she was up, she might as well get an early start on the day; one never knew when a body would be discovered.

Richard Castle arrived at the mid-town crime scene that Friday morning feeling like he'd been the one backed over by a garbage truck. His eyes were lined with dark circles, and the insomniac-strength coffee he clutched in his hand was doing absolutely nothing to aid in his alertness. A night of virtually no sleep would do that to a person.

That morning when his alarm went off, Castle proceeded through his morning routine with a lead weight in his gut. He'd grown to look forward to days spent with Kate. In light of their fight and her subsequent complete avoidance of contact from him, he dreaded it. His only saving grace was that he was able to hide the incident from his daughter. Fortunately, she had been listening to music during their argument and when she came out of her room and asked where Kate was, he was able to casually brush it off even though his heart was breaking.

He was midway through making her lunch when he received the text message about the location of their latest body. He thought about contacting Kate to see if she wanted to meet at the precinct or at the scene, but then he figured what was the point? If she'd ignored his prior calls and messages, what would make this one any different? Thus, he went directly to the scene by himself.

When Castle stepped around the garbage truck blocking the alley, he was able to see the slim figure of his partner crouching beside the body. His breath immediate left his chest, but he was able to recover by reminding himself that everything was going to be alright. He was down, but not out. Kate merely needed a day or two to calm down and then they would be able to have a calm and rational discussion about their relationship and where they stood.

Clearing his throat, he stepped around to the other side of the body. "Morning Kate; Morning Lanie."

His partner said nothing, but the ME greeted him with a pleasant nod. "Castle."

"So," he said, gazing down with a grimace at the battered body of their latest victim. A female in her early twenties if he had to guess. "Hell of a way to start the morning, huh?"

"As I was just telling Kate, this girl was long dead before the garbage truck backed over her—thank goodness. Cause of death," Lanie paused to crouch down beside the body, "single stab wound to the carotid artery; she would have been dead almost instantly."

"Body was dumped here, right?"

The ME nodded. "Judging by lack of arterial spray, yes, and I'd estimate TOD between eleven and two a.m. but I'll know more once I get her back to the lab."

Castle thanked her before turning his attention to Kate. "ID on the body?"

She stood and looked at him for the first time. "No, but we got prints and uniforms are looking in these dumpsters for a purse or a wallet."

"Guess it's good they found the body before dumping the trash into this truck, right?" he said, offering her a smile. She stared at him expressionless for a moment longer before turning and walking out of the alley. Castle followed her.

"Kate—wait! Hang on a second. I want to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say," she informed him.

Back out on the sidewalk, he caught up with her and grabbed her under the armpit, spinning her around. She gaped at him incredulously, but he ignored her expression for the moment. "Can't we just have an honest conversation with each other for two seconds? I'm sorry that you're upset, but I won't apologize for telling you how I feel."

He paused, letting those words settle, before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I know you're scared, but so am I. Hell, I'm terrified! I've never felt this way about anyone before—ever. Almost forty years and I…" He let his voice drift off as he opened his arms, palms displayed flat in her direction.

Truly, he couldn't vocalize how he felt about her. All the words in the English language failed him when he looked into her eyes and thought about just how much she made his heart swell. She frustrated him and made him angry, but she also made him happier than he ever thought he could be; than he ever thought possible.

Kate cleared her throat and took a step back from him. "I'll see you back at the twelfth."

With that, she turned and walked back up the street, leaving him slack-jawed behind her.

By mid-morning, Kate was making progress on their latest case. The prints of the victim came back with the name Caitlyn Sanders. The twenty-two year old had a Brooklyn address, but worked in Manhattan. Though she'd been arrested at eighteen for marijuana possession, she had no other criminal activity in her history. Deciding it was best for them to work separately for the time being, Kate sent Castle to the victim's place of work to interview her boss and coworkers while she went to the morgue to learn more about Caitlyn.

"So, what can you tell me about the vic? Did you narrow down time of death?" Kate asked the moment she pushed open the morgue doors.

Standing next to the victim's body, Lanie shot her friend an annoyed look. "Well hello to you to."

Impatient, Kate groaned. "Lanie. The body, please."

Curling her lip up, Lanie pulled off her blue examination gloves and planted both her fists at her hips. "Hold up. What's going on with you? You're all business with me, and you seemed pretty icy with Castle this morning. You two have a fight?"

The detective shut her eyes and shook her head. With an exhale, she explained simply, "Not exactly, but…our partnership is probably over—or, ending."

The ME's eyes bulged. "WHAT?!"

Kate shrugged. "No big deal."

"No big…n-no big…" Lanie stammered, still trying to recover from her shock. "Kate Beckett are you kidding me? This is a huge deal!"

Still knee deep in her denial, Kate flipped her hand casually. "Well, it is what it is. It's obvious we can't stop sleeping together and still be partners at work so it has to be all or nothing."

Lanie shook her head and took a step towards her friend. "I don't understand; where is this coming from? Why now?"

Kate groaned. She definitely was not in the mood for a Castle-related discussion, but if she had to talk about it, she was going to be vague. "It's just…Castle said some things…it really doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does. You have a sort of…panicked, completely freaked out look about you. Oh my god!" she squealed suddenly. Then, clapping her hands together and doing a tiny bounce, she asked, "Did Castle propose to you?"

Kate nearly choked on her own salvia. "What?!" she squeaked. "No. No. No. Of course not. Why would you think that?"

Deflated, Lanie shrugged. "Well, I duuno. You're so commitment phobic I figured that might set you off."

"I'm not commitment phobic," the detective insisted, folding her arms over her chest. Picky, yes. Selective, sure. But not commitment phobic.

Lanie let out a snort of non-belief. "You are. Plus it makes sense…you guys have been dating exclusively for what? A year now, right?"

Kate held up her index finger to correct her clearly insane friend. "Okay, first—we're not dating exclusively. We're not even dating. We are partners with benefits. Second, it's only been eight months."

The ME fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Okay, so he didn't propose. What did happen?"

Kate remained silent, but her friend glared at her harder until she relented. Slumping her shoulders, she shifted her weight between her feet and explained. "He…he wanted to take me as his date to the opening of his mother's play and I told him no and we argued and….he…he may have told me that he's in love with me."

Lanie grinned. "Oh Kate, that's wonderful!" When she noticed her friend's face reflected constipation more than joy, she demanded, "What? What is that look? It is wonderful. I mean, you feel the same way don't you?"

"Lanie…"

As she could detect the slightest bit of rose color creeping into her friend's cheeks, the ME did not back down. "What? You're so obvious Kate. I've seen you two together at crime scenes, remember? Nobody makes you smile like that man. Don't! Don't look at me like that," she scolded when she spotted an eye roll. "You know it's true. He makes you happy, doesn't he Kate?"

Kate practically growled at her friend, "Lanie! The victim! Please!"

"Fine, fine," Lanie relented, turning back to the young woman on her examination table. "COD was as I told you this morning—single stab wound to the neck. She died sometime between midnight and one. I didn't find any defensive wounds on her hands or arms, so my guess would be that she knew her attacker."

"Thanks," Kate said with a nod. She turned to leave but her friend stopped her.

"Just one more thing about Castle, Kate?" Though she looked annoyed, Kate said nothing, so Lanie continued. "You might not be ready to admit how you really feel about him, but think of it this way. What happens if you do get your wish and one of you is transferred to another precinct? What would happen if you never saw him or spoke to him again? How would you feel then?"

A/N: You guys didn't think it would be smooth sailing forever, did you? :)