Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I watch the show.
"I can see why you said that you're a different woman, Kate." Lydia Aronson is sitting in a chair next to the examination table where Beckett is perched, her bare legs visible beneath the gown that the gynecologist had insisted that she put on fifteen minutes earlier. "You've been my patient since before you graduated from the Academy. I've watched you go through any number of horrific things, but this one was probably the worst, for a lot of reasons. And yet here you are, not only happy but so much more open than I've ever seen you." She pats her lightly on the knee. "It's remarkably brave, what you're doing."
"You think it's brave to fall in love with someone?"
"It's always brave to fall in love with someone, but it's different for you."
"Why?"
"Because the old Kate would have pushed love away. Did push it away. You'd never have exposed yourself or trusted anyone the way you obviously trust Rick. You'd take any risk but that one. You're one of the the bravest people I know—unquestionably the bravest physically—but you've never given yourself permission to fall in love."
Kate looks down at her feet and decides that she needs a pedicure the instant she's out of here. "Pathetic, right, Lydia? When I finally want to give a guy my heart, there's a bullet hole in it."
"Don't be so hard on yourself? Now, to a practical issue, even if romance underlies it." The doctor flips open a folder and looks it over quickly. "No sexual activity for close to four months, but you're still on the pill. Good. Because the last thing you want to do now is get pregnant. You may be almost physically ready for sex, but not for a baby. Not yet."
"Don't worry, I'm not psychologically ready for a baby, either. I'm still trying to cope with the fact that at my advanced age I'm in love for the first time. And last time. I'm terrified. Is that crazy?"
Aronson smiles at her tough-but-tender patient. "I'm not a psychiatrist, but—"
"You've kind of been mine."
"I'm flattered, but one rotation in psychiatry as an intern does not a mental health expert make. Anyway, despite the fact that I'm not a psychiatrist, I'd say you'd be crazy if you weren't a little bit scared. But just a little bit." She holds her left thumb and index finger a quarter of an inch apart. "Just not so much that you don't take the leap, okay?"
"So you're saying I can take the leap in a couple of days?"
"Kate, when I said 'take the leap' I wasn't talking about sex." She chuckles. "Although I know you were. No, I was saying take the leap and let yourself be in love. Listen to an old pro. I've been married for twenty-seven years and never regretted a moment. Except maybe when I was in the middle of giving birth to my ten-pound, three-ounce son, and that moment passed very quickly, even if it didn't seem like it then." She stands up and, holding the folder tight against her white coat, gives Kate a quick hug. "Get dressed, and be happy."
She'd promised to call Castle when she was ready to leave, but she's going to take a quick detour. There's a nail salon directly across the street, and she can see from the corner that it's not wildly busy so she crosses over. Sure enough, they take her, and also assure her that she'll be done in half an hour if two people work simultaneously, one on her feet and the other on her hands. Kate chooses a pink-blush polish. It feels appropriate. Twenty-minutes later she's texting Castle.
"I'm ready if you are."
His response is immediate. "Picked up a few things and am leaving the loft now. Want to get a sandwich where we had coffee earlier? I can be there in 15."
"Yup. I'll save you a seat."
"Thanks. Just make sure it's next to yours."
The booth they'd had before is unoccupied, which she decides is a good omen. "Good omen? Geez, I'm turning into Castle."
"Sorry, I didn't catch that," the waitress says, pen and pad in hand.
Shit, had she said that out loud? "Oh, just that I'd like a half-caff while I'm waiting for my, uh, friend to get here." While she waits she thinks, hard, about everything that Lydia Aronson had said to her. It's a painful truth that she hadn't let herself fall in love before. Better late than never, at least, though it's small consolation. Except, wait, it's a big consolation. An enormous, bigger than jumbo, consolation. Because she hasn't just fallen in love, she's fallen in love with the right man and he is, miraculously, in love with her. Despite everything. And now she's ready to take the leap. Almost.
She's still worried that he won't be able to deal with how scarred she is. Not just the ugly residue of her shooting, but the scars that are so deeply incised that they sometimes feel as if they're new. The ones left by the battle she waged for so long on two fronts: the consuming search for her mother's killer and the desperate struggle to haul her father out from the bottom of a bottle. And she's still struggling with the former.
Except. Except again. Castle has seen some of the worst of her, many times, and yet he's still here. More than ever. It occurs to her that she has to make another kind of leap, a leap of faith in him, that his enormous heart can forgive and understand a great deal. He's not unfamiliar with scars, is he? He has his own share that she can only imagine. No father. Meredith, who apparently had little interest in being his wife or the mother of their child. He has some visible scars, too, like that one on his forehead. Where had that come from? He'll probably invent a hell of a story about that, if she asks him. Oh, and the appendectomy. That had to have left some kind of mark. She wouldn't mind looking for that, finding that. Full-body exploration. And suddenly a racy daydream fills her mind, and she's lost to the world.
Castle see her almost as soon as he comes through the door of the cafe. She's sitting in their booth. Their booth? They found it only a few hours ago. So what? It was love at first booth and now it's theirs. So there. From this angle he can see her only in profile, but he can tell that she's radiant. Her cheeks are pink. She has a half smile, and her only movement is slight: the corner of her mouth twitches. Her lips part slightly, and then close. What's she thinking? She must have gotten good news from Doctor Aronson. Not a podiatrist, he hopes. Or a dermatologist or an ophthalmologist or an audiologist or a lot of other -ists. But an -ist who might have given her significantly good news about her overall health. A cardiologist, maybe? Other than Davidson. Anyone but him.
He's surprised that her detective radar doesn't signal his approach. Even when he stands right next to her she doesn't register his presence. He puts his palm gently on her shoulder and she jumps.
"I can tell that your coffee is cold," he says as he sits down. He knows he needs to keep this light. Not grill her about her appointment. Check-up. Whatever it was. "Can't believe you let that happen. Should I be worried?"
"No. Not worried at all. Nope. Don't worry, be happy." A new and goofy grin transforms her, and he finds that he is instantly and goofily in love with goofy Kate.
"Good. You hungry?"
She nods.
"What would you like?"
"Whatever you're having."
"Really? What if I have tuna with marshmallow fluff?"
Her eyes are gleaming. "You mean a flufferfisher? Sounds delicious."
"Kate? Did your doctor give you something?"
"Like what?"
"Some prescription with unexpected side effects?"
"Yeah. No."
"Which? She gave you a prescription?"
"No, just advice. She gave me advice."
Huh. "And you're doing well? Not prying here. But she's pleased with your progress?"
"She is. Very pleased." She lowers her eyes to the menu for a moment, then looks up at him with a smile he classifies as sultry. "Hey, Castle, how about a cheeseburger with hot fudge? And jalapeños." She tilts her head to the right. "Juicy. And sweet. And spicy."
He's going to choke to death, right here, sitting across the table from the woman of his dreams. He marshals his rapidly dwindling resources. "Even I wouldn't eat that, Kate. Did this doctor of yours do something to your taste buds? Have you checked your tongue lately?"
"No, I haven't, but I distinctly recall your doing that, just a few days ago."
Before he has time to come to his senses, if he can find them at all, she says, "Oops, here's our waitress."
"Are you folks ready to order?"
"We are. I'd like a cheeseburger, please. And another cup of coffee."
"What kind of cheese?"
"Cheddar."
"And for you, sir?"
"The same. Thank you."
"Two cheddar cheeseburgers, two coffees. Be right back."
"Oh, one more thing!" Kate says, adding her sweetest smile. "Could you put whipped cream on his, please? Believe it or not, he likes whipped cream on meat."
That does it. He's going to slide under the table and stay there until he can breathe properly again. Also swallow. And speak. He hits the floor.
"Castle?" There's her face. Sideways. Looking at him while he's sitting on the floor. "Something wrong?"
"Water. Pass me a glass of water. Please."
"Well, of course. All you had to do was ask. Didn't need to get down on the floor and beg."
Her face disappears, and reappears, along with her hand, which is holding a glass. "Here you go."
He's sipping it and contemplating his return to the bench when he sees a pair of New Balance walking shoes. And a pair of legs. He hears the voice that belongs to the legs.
"Is your friend all right?"
"Yes, I think he just dropped something. Went down to get it."
"Here are your cheeseburgers. I put the whipped cream on the side here, in a bowl. Didn't know how much your friend wanted."
"Oh, that's so thoughtful. Thank you."
The shoes, legs, and voice vanish, and he crawls back up.
"Lose something, Castle?" she asks brightly.
"Almost everything. Slide that whipped cream over here."
"Of course."
He scoops up a spoonful of whipped cream and looks at it. Very slowly, he runs the tip of his tongue up the side and hums. He swallows, but makes sure there's a bit on his lip. He licks it off while he looking directly into her eyes. "Oh, my God. Licking whipped cream off skin. It's unbelievable. It's incredibly—" He takes another lick. "Incredibly erotic. Even all by myself, you know?" He flicks an imaginary bit of cream from his lower lip and smiles. "Do you think my lips can be called meat?" His eyes are half closed. "Mmmm."
"Castle?"
"Mmhmm? Sorry, it's just this cream."
"You know what this is?"
"Cream, definitely cream."
"No, it's a line."
"Really? A line? I thought the lines were my jurisdiction."
"Yeah, well, we're sharing jurisdiction, especially when we cross a line."
"And this one is?"
"The Maginot Line."
This demands his full attention. He puts the spoon down and notices that her cheeks now match the color of the ketchup on her cheeseburger. "As in World War Two?"
"Do you know another one?"
"Since you bring it up, no. So how is this the Maginot Line?"
"Because it's where one power is storming the defenses of the other. Barrels right over the line, knocking down everything."
TBC
A/N Thank you all!