AN: Alright, so I've been reading this story by Liv Wilder, called Not Ready to Make Nice (you should read it; it's amazing) and it starts out with a scene in the break room. I love what she's doing with the story, but I thought I'd try my hand at a different route.
I love and hate this episode, because the emotions are just so amazing in it. And I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter, I think it's pretty good (but you guys can be the judges of that).
I want to say a huge thank you to a guest, Maria (if that's wrong I'm sorry, it looks like I accidentally deleted my email) who left amazing reviews recently. If you're still reading, you're amazing. Also I want to say that I read everyone's reviews, so even if I'm stupid and somehow forget to write you a reply, I have read what you wrote and am incredibly grateful for it.
That being said, I really hope you like this alternate ending to "47 Seconds", and please review with your thoughts.
Kate stood at her desk trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
She had seen it in his eyes earlier, when he said there was something he wanted to tell her. She had seen the potential and had thought she knew what he meant. She'd spent every minute since then desperately trying to stay calm, to focus on the case and not freak out that maybe, just maybe, she would soon have that all-too-important discussion with Castle.
But then something had ruined it. Castle's eyes were dark just now as he told her what he had to say wasn't important. Maybe that was to be expected after a case like this one, but even after combing through this bombing, she'd still seen hope light up his eyes when he looked at her.
So what was different now? Why had he turned down her offer for drinks? What had changed?
Kate could think of nothing as she stood there, with her hands still at her collar, staring down at her desk.
Someone closed a desk drawer with a little too much force somewhere in the distance, breaking her out of her reverie. She checked her watch and realized it had been almost five minutes since she'd watched Castle board the elevator.
There was no way she was going home now. Saying she was still wired had been an excuse to ask everyone out to drinks, in the hopes that Ryan and Esposito would decline and she would be allowed time with Castle, but it was still true. And now she had to deal with the wonderings too, so going home was not an option. She was not going to sit and stew with a glass of wine, replaying the events of the day desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.
No, she would be productive instead.
She shed her coat and sat down at her desk, looking around desperately for something, anything to do. The problem was, there wasn't all that much to do.
There was a stack of paperwork involving the case; there was always a stack of paperwork, but she'd done most of it already while Gates dealt with the FBI. Only a few pages remained, and most of those only required signatures.
Ten minutes later, having finished the paperwork in record time since she was forcing herself to focus instead of thinking about Castle, Kate looked up and realized how empty the precinct was. It was still pretty early, but when Gates told everyone to go home, they took advantage and got out of dodge as quickly as possible.
Except, of course, Kate Beckett.
She was no stranger to empty precincts; she'd spent so many nights here when she first started that she knew all the ins and outs of the building. But it had been such a long time. Now that she thought about it, the last time that she'd been here when it was this quiet was when Will was shot. Had it really been that long?
The answer to that question hurt too much to dwell on, because she knew it was because of Castle that she'd actually gone home some nights instead of staying and poring over evidence that almost invariably brought her no new insights.
No matter how experienced she was in the silent halls of a dead precinct, Kate would never be able to shake the eeriness they held. The bullpen was meant to be a hotbed of activity, and when it wasn't, something always felt a bit off.
Shaking off the familiar feeling, Kate headed to the break room to make herself a cup of coffee. If she wasn't going to go home and sleep, then she might as well feel awake.
Kate stood from her position on the floor and tried to shake the tingly feeling from her limbs as she looked down at her desk.
After getting herself coffee, she'd returned to see that she had absolutely nothing left to do, but she wasn't going home. So she did the only thing she could think to do; she did a massive clean out of her desk.
Looking at it now, she didn't really see much of a difference, but the trash can sitting next to her was chalk full of dirty paper towels she'd wrung out and reused so often they were falling apart into a big clump of goo.
She checked her watch as she went to make herself another coffee. It was 3:27 a.m. She really shouldn't be drinking any more coffee.
As stupid as it sounded, cleaning her desk had accomplished what she wanted it to. Though Castle was never far from her mind, Kate hadn't agonized over what their stinted exchange had meant, or why he seemed to not want to look her in the eye.
But now the desk was clean and she was making coffee, using the machine that Castle had bought, and taught her how to use. There was no avoiding the subject now.
As she stood at the counter waiting for the familiar scent of espresso, Kate replayed the day in her mind. She still couldn't figure out what she'd done wrong.
The elevator chimed its arrival from the bullpen, dragging Kate back to the present and almost giving her a heart attack. Company was the last thing she expected right now.
"Beckett?" Kate almost smiled; it was Castle. But something was wrong. His voice was too harsh, almost cold.
Forgetting all about her coffee, Kate walked out to meet him. She hadn't quite made it to the door when they nearly collided. She kind of wished they had; it would have been a great excuse to touch him, maybe even put her arms around him. It was so late, and she was so tired. She just wanted to let him comfort her, tell her that the ice she'd seen in his eyes earlier was nothing, and that her fears were unfounded.
But he didn't say anything. He just took a small step backward and looked at her. Glared would actually be a better word for it. She wasn't sure he'd ever looked at her like that before today; she wished she knew why he was doing so now.
"What are you doing here?" She asked instead, not brave enough yet to seek the answers she really wanted.
"I need to talk to you. You weren't at your apartment, so I assumed you were here." He still wasn't looking her in the eyes, instead favoring her feet. She shifted self-consciously, only now remembering she had taken her heels off sometime after removing all the files from her bottom drawer, and before crawling underneath her desk to clean the underside. Now she was barefoot and she was trying to remember the last time she'd painted her toes.
He needed to talk to her. Was that good or bad? It was obviously very important to him, if he couldn't wait until morning to discuss it with her.
"I thought it wasn't important." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. Why would she bring up their earlier conversation? The fact that it had gone so terribly wrong was the reason she was at the precinct at three in the morning instead of... well, instead of in a bed. She didn't want to think about whose it could have been.
"Yeah, well. I've decided it is." Castle sighed sadly, like he'd resigned himself to a fate he was dreading. Kate tried to swallow, but found her mouth dry and her throat constricted. This did not bode well.
But why? When he'd said he wanted to talk after the case was over, the idea had been brimming with hope and possibility. So why was it now such a burden on him?
She was silent, waiting for him to continue because she had no idea what she could say. She wanted to make the pain he was letting slip onto his face go away, but she didn't know how. He walked past her into the break room and she could have sworn he was making a conscious effort not to touch her. It was breaking her heart.
Castle made it to one of the tables and leaned against it. There was so much tension in his posture that she longed to go and ease out any way she could. Instead she stood still, frozen where she was standing until he turned around to face her again.
His face might as well have been stone now. The ice in his eyes had only grown colder, and that fact catapulted her into motion. If she'd have been brave enough, she would have kissed him right then and there, but she wasn't. So she settled for standing in front of him, as close as she dared.
"I'm done. I can't, I won't, follow you around anymore." He was looking at her feet again as he said the words, which actually seemed pretty appropriate, since that's where her heart now was. Or maybe that was her stomach; her heart seemed to have split open and started gushing blood in her throat.
This could not be happening. Why was this happening? What had she done wrong? Why hadn't he said anything? Could she fix this? What had she done wrong?
"Why?" Her voice was barely a whisper. She was staring at his face, hoping it would crack into a smile, hoping beyond hope that this was just some stupid and very cruel joke he was playing on her, even hoping that maybe she had fallen asleep at her desk and this was all just a terrible dream.
But it wasn't, and as she watched his face change from stony indifference to anger it hit her exactly what she had done.
A trail of expletives she would never speak aloud ran through her head. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid. He knew. Of course he knew. It all made sense now. The coffee on her desk, the hours when he'd just disappeared, the change in attitude, it all made perfect sense now.
"I lied." The words came out steady and detached, almost clinical. She wished they'd come out broken. That's how she felt. Her world was imploding inside her. Her heart was crushed and her lungs set on fire by two simple words, two words that meant everything.
She looked up at Castle and saw a fresh wave of pain roll across his face. She hadn't wanted this at all. She'd lied with the express purpose of not hurting him. She'd wanted to heal before she started anything with him to lower the chances of seeing that face right there. But she'd ended up hurting him anyway.
And then as she stared into his eyes, she saw the pain and anger vanish, replaced by acceptance and resignation. Kate wanted to believe this was a good thing, but there was no forgiveness laced with the resignation, only a deep sadness that made her blood run cold.
"Thank you for that." His voice was calm; why wasn't he yelling at her? Why wasn't he demanding an explanation? Why did she feel like he was giving up?
"But the confession changes nothing, not how you feel. Sadly, not how I feel either. I wish it did; then maybe I could stay. That's not the case though, so I'll leave you alone now. You won't have to pretend anymore." He wasn't looking at her, but suddenly his eyes found hers and both pairs burned with tears. "Goodbye Kate."
He didn't touch her; he just stood there for a second before turning toward the door. Her mind was racing. She was missing something again. What was she missing?
The thought struck just in time for her to reach out and grab his arm, scorching her hand as she felt the muscle tense.
"You," this time her voice really did break. "You think I lied because I don't feel the same?"
"Didn't you?" The words, along with the utter certainty with which they were spoken, shattered something inside her.
She let her body drop onto the couch she'd been standing next to and put her face in her hands.
"How could you think that?" She had tried so hard to show him how much she loved him. Had he not seen any of it?
All the little things she'd done and said, the looks, holding his hand at the loft. Hell, she'd nearly kissed him when she found him in that bank vault. The speech on the swings. She'd thought he understood.
"Beckett," she flinched as he returned to using her surname, but still couldn't look at him. "This isn't necessary. I get it now. I won't bug you anymore. I thought I could turn it off, but I can't, so I'll just leave."
Kate knew she couldn't let that happen; she needed him in her life, and the thought that she might lose him made her forget about everything else. Her fear dissipated as her resolve steeled.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Kate stood and walked right up to Castle. She placed a hand on either side of his face and kissed him, hard.
The force of the kiss knocked him back half a step, but Kate gladly went with him. For a few seconds she was blissfully happy again. For a few seconds he kissed her back and she forgot that it was past three in the morning and that she hadn't slept in what felt like days. For a few seconds his hands were at her hips and this wasn't and undercover ruse and he was kissing her back.
For a few seconds nothing else mattered. Then the few seconds were over.
His hands moved from her hips to her arms and he pushed her away. Breathing heavily, she looked up into his eyes just in time to see desire slip from them as his anger returned.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He took a step backward, as if just being close to her was causing him physical pain. With each inch he added to the space between them, she felt her heart sink further.
He didn't understand. She needed him to understand that she did feel the same; she loved him, even if she wasn't ready to say that quite yet.
"You can't just kiss me to make me stay, Beckett! That's not how it works. You don't love me, so I'm leaving." He turned to leave again, but Kate wasn't letting him go, not now that she knew exactly what she wanted.
"And what if I do?" She practically yelled the words at his back, and they stopped him in his tracks.
"You can't say that, Kate. You can't say that if it isn't true." He didn't move, leaving his back facing her, which was really starting to piss her off.
"You think that little of me Rick? That I would lie about something as big as this just so I could keep you as some sort of security blanket? That I would pretend to love you just so I wouldn't be alone?" She saw his shoulders slump and knew she'd hit the mark. No matter how angry he was, how much she'd hurt him, he knew that wasn't true.
Maybe the little things she'd been doing and saying had left an impression after all.
"I just kissed you with everything I had, Rick. If you didn't feel what I've felt for you for a long time in that kiss, then maybe we're both wrong. I should have said something earlier, made it clear how I felt. And I shouldn't have lied; I am truly, deeply sorry for that. But I can't give you anymore of myself than you already have, because you are everything. I have more baggage than you should have to deal with, but I'm all yours. I have been for a long time. Maybe I can't say those three words to you right now, but that doesn't mean I don't feel them."
Kate really wanted to say more, explain further, but she knew it would do nothing. He either believed her, or he didn't.
The seconds ticked by, she could hear the clock hanging on the wall behind her, and she just watched the rise and fall of his shoulders. She wished she could see his face.
She knew he'd made up his mind the instant he did because she saw the tension drain and his muscles relax.
And then she didn't have to guess what his decision was anymore. He spun around slowly and gave her a sheepish grin, as if he wasn't entirely sure what to do next. Taking a step forward, closing the distance between them once again, Castle cupped her cheeks with his palms gently.
Kate tried to stand still, she really did, but the feel of his skin on her face was too much. She needed more, so she waited as long as she could, staring into his eyes and seeing the forgiveness and joy there, and then she let her body take over.
Her hands moved to his back, pulling him to her as his mouth found hers. And then everything else washed away. All the pain and the lies, they just didn't matter anymore.
Kate clung to him as his hands wound their way from her face to nestle themselves at the small of her back. Wrapping her leg around his, gaining that much more friction between them, she tried not to think. Thinking made her wonder if this was real, or if in a few seconds she'd wake up alone in her own bed, or passed out on the floor next to her desk. She didn't want to think, she just wanted to feel.
But soon she was feeling a bit lightheaded and so she reluctantly moved her lips from Castle's and lightly traced the line of his jaw instead.
She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and breathed in slowly, hugging him tightly.
"I'm sorry." She whispered into the fabric of his shirt. He squeezed her even tighter and shook his head.
They just stood there for a while, neither having to say it but both needing to just touch the other. Then Castle leaned back and looked at her inquisitively.
"Did it really take you six hours to clean your desk?"
AN2: This isn't quite my longest chapter, but it's close. Let me know if you liked it (please?).