Snowed In

Chapter 5

After he finished his breakfast, Castle retreated to his suite. He couldn't stop smiling. Encountering the lovely Kate Beckett in the dining hall had been a very pleasant surprise. He was further pleased when she joined him for a little while after generously sharing some of her premium South American coffee blend with him.

She really was something. He wasn't above admitting he was quite taken with her. She was drop dead gorgeous. It stunned him to learn she was a NYPD homicide detective. He'd have thought something more glamorous than a cop. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Quite the opposite. He found her very intriguing. Castle wanted to know the story behind that career path, because with her haunting good looks, he would have thought she'd be a model. She certainly had the long legs and figure to successfully strut down the catwalk and pose in magazines wearing tantalizing lingerie—get your head out of the gutter, Rick!

He shook his head, even if such imaginings were very, very nice to linger on.

Oh, yes. Her beauty was undeniable. But he found himself even more intrigued by the sharp intellect he saw lurking beyond those soulful brown eyes. He knew the quote. Everyone did. While its exact origins remained unclear, having been attributed to the likes of William Shakespeare, Leonardo Da Vinci, the Roman philosopher Cicero, and even the Bible, the saying was nonetheless true.

The eyes were a window to the soul.

And in the lovely Kate Beckett's eyes, Castle saw a deep sadness hiding behind the confident mask she wore to conceal her true feelings.

He wanted to know more.

He needed to know more.

His curious nature demanded it.

Yet, judging from the barriers she erected, insolating herself in a protective bubble, he was going to have to tread extremely carefully if he were to unearth the mystery that was Kate Beckett. It wasn't going to be easy. But he had a feeling it would be fun. And worth the effort.

Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad.

The rapid pronouncement of his favorite designation filled the room, emanating from the cellphone ensconced in his pocket. His grin grew into a smile. Retrieving his iPhone, he slid this thumb across the screen to accept the call from his daughter, greeting her with an enthusiastic hello.

"You're in a good mood," Alexis observed. He liked to think she inherited that trait from him.

"It's been a good morning," he replied. "Gina might've been on to something sending me out here."

"Okay… Dad, who is she?"

"What!?" he feigned shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Please, Dad, this is me you're talking to," Alexis reprimanded. "I know you. And you complimenting Gina is not normal. So, I can only conclude that you've met someone that has intrigued you, and knowing you, as I do, then it has to be a woman."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Are you sure you're my daughter."

"The doctors say so," she jested back.

"All right, you got me, yes… I've met someone, but…," he insisted, emphasizing this point, "it's not what you think."

"Really?" she sounded dubious, and in all honesty, okay, it was a little what she thought, but he wasn't going to tell his daughter that because this felt different than the others. A lot different.

"Really."

"Uh-huh," his daughter was unconvinced. "Have you slept with her?"

He nearly choked. "Whoa! Look, I know we often blur the lines between parent and child, and who's who, but Alexis—Pumpkin—that's an extremely private and personal—"

"Didn't seem so private and personal with all the others that traipsed through the loft in the early mornings—barely clothed, might I add—while I was getting ready to go to school."

"What!? Alexis, that was like two or three times."

"Five."

"No way it was that many."

"Yes," she affirmed. "Five times."

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, ashamed. Despite what the gossip papers said about him, the number one priority in Richard Castle's life had always been his daughter; Since the day she was born, she was the most important thing he'd ever done. And he wanted to be the best father he could be. But he was only human. And yes, on occasion, he made mistakes.

"Okay… I'm sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable and I definitely never meant to expose you to my sordid personal life."

"Well, having you as a Dad and Grams as a grandmother sort of makes a kid grow up faster, you know."

He had to laugh at that. "It certainly makes life interesting, doesn't it?"

"Understatement of the century, Dad," Alexis stated with a teasing lilt to her voice.

"Anyways, it's not like that," Castle assured. Not yet. Though, if he was honest with himself, he was hoping that there could eventually be more. "She's the niece of the couple the runs the BnB. And… she's a cop. A homicide detective with the NYPD."

"That's new," Alexis noted. She paused, and he heard her hum softly. "Is she pretty?"

"Yes," he admitted with a grunt of acknowledgment. "But that's not really the point."

"It usually is with you."

"Come now, give me a little credit, I'm not that shallow."

"Depends," was Alexis's honest assessment. Leave it to his daughter to call him out on his bad behavior. Really… who was the parent in this relationship?

"Fine," he grunted. "But I promise you this time it's different. She's smart. And… I don't know. There's just something about her that I… I just… I can't really say right now. But I'm very intrigued."

"Oh."

"Oh?" he frowned at the tone of her voice. "What does that mean?"

Alexis hesitated before replying. "It means this is different."

"I know that," Castle nearly huffed. "I already said that."

She chuckled lightly, before turning serious. "Dad, just… be careful. Okay? I love you, but you've had a rough year, and you tend to leap before you look."

"True," he reluctantly agreed. And then grinned. "Look at you, giving out such sage advice. Where'd that all come from?"

"Perhaps it skipped a generation or two," she teased.

"Ha," he feigned a laugh. "Double Ha."

Alexis giggled. "Well, you're just lucky I'm so well adjusted, otherwise I'd be costing you a fortune in therapy bills."

"To which I'm eternally grateful," Castle asserted.

"I'll remind you that you said that next time I beat you at laser tag."

"I'm sure you will."

"So…," Alexis drawled out. "How's 'that which we do not speak' going?"

Castle glanced over at his laptop sitting on the desk by the window, an empty mini-carton of chocolate milk and paper plate beside it. After his encounter with Kate Beckett last night, he'd felt an urge to brainstorm character ideas. And now, having learned her profession, the possibilities were starting to bubble up inside him.

"Better," was all he answered, but it was enough for his daughter to guess the reason.

"Ooh," she hummed in delight. "Sounds like you've found a muse."

He blinked. Had he? Castle pondered that notion for a minute, before slowly grinning. Every writer needed inspiration. And yes, Alexis was right. He might have just found his.

XXX

Herbert Hollister was back home, sitting in the kitchen nook, halfheartedly bemoaning the fretting of his wife, and smiling happily at his treasured niece as she tucked a comfy blanket around his shoulders to help keep him warm. Kate was glad to see him look more like himself, though he was clearly still very tired. He obviously hadn't slept well at the hospital and was no doubt looking forward to sleeping in his own bed once again.

"It's so very nice of you, Kate," he said, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. "I know I speak for Tea, when I say having you here, and helping out with the BnB, is very much appreciated."

Her aunt echoed the sentiment from the kitchen counter, where she was making Uncle Herb and herself a salad for lunch. Herb clearly wasn't relishing the new diet enforced upon him by the doctors and his wife, but, considering the alternative, he was willing to make some sacrifices for his health.

"Despite the contrary, I think I have more years left in me," he grinned, though it didn't entirely reach his eyes. "Just a bump in the road."

Theresa scoffed. "A bump in the road, he says."

"Now, now, Tea…," Herb said, this time his eyes twinkling with mirth. "You aren't getting rid of these old bones so easily."

"Damn straight," she agreed with a definitive nod.

Herb sat back and smiled.

"So, Kate, how's my favorite niece?"

Kate pursed her lips and shook her head, casting a side glance at her aunt. "Both you, huh? I'm your only niece."

"Is that so?" Herb teased, offering her a playful wink.

She couldn't believe this. If she hadn't known better, she would have never guessed her teasing uncle had just returned from the hospital after having a minor heart attack.

"Well, you are our favorite niece," Theresa piped in, swinging over with a bowl of leafy greens for Herb.

He glanced down at his lunch and grimace. "This ain't a salad. There's no dressing."

She gave him a long look, a look Kate recognized. Johanna Beckett had given her father the same look on more than one occasion. No doubt, sometime in the future, if she found the right man, she'd give him the exact same look. Her mind briefly filtered back to that morning and her encounter with Richard Castle.

"Tea tells me we have a celebrity of sorts staying with us," Herb said, relenting and stabbing his dressing-free salad with his fork. "Some writer, is it?"

"Richard Castle, dear," Theresa nodded. "I think our Kate has a crush on him."

Herb raised a bushy eyebrow. "That so? Perhaps I should have a talk with him. Sus out his intentions."

Kate just shook her head.

"I don't have a crush on him," she insisted even while a small voice inside her head clamored, quite vigorously, to state the contrary.

"He's very handsome," Theresa added, not helping at all.

"Should I be worried, dear?" Herb questioned, jokingly.

"Not at all," Theresa smiled warmly, placing a loving hand on his broad shoulder. "I've got my Herbie. Though, no harm in looking, is there?"

"None at all," he agreed with a mild shrug, looking at Kate as Theresa sauntered back to the kitchen counter. She had to work hard not to laugh out loud and reveal the fact his expression said otherwise.

"Tell us about this date, then?" Theresa asked, flirting back in with her bowl of salad, this one with a cranberry dressing. Uncle Herb glanced enviously over at it, before sighing and resuming eating his bland salad.

"Date?" hooted Kate in alarm, immediately trying to correct the misconception. "I didn't say it was a date."

"You didn't have to," Theresa said with a twinkle in her eyes. "A handsome man asks you out to lunch. Please, Kate. You're still young, and quite attractive—it's in the family genes—of course it's a date."

"But he didn't… I mean I… er… he just wants to talk about my job, as… a… you know… as—"

"A detective," Theresa finished with a merciless grin. The tease. "Yes, my dear, we know what you do for a living."

"Damn fine one, too," Herb put in. "Jim's very proud, and so are we."

Kate let out a breath, and pursed her lips. Could they be right? What if it was a date? She thought he'd simply wanted to talk about her job as a homicide detective, to pick her brain, as it were, for ideas to jump start his writing. But what if it were more? Was that something she'd like?

She shook her head. "No, I'm not here to go on dates, even if he's handsome—" Her eyes went wide. She hadn't meant to admit that last part out loud. Theresa flashed her a knowing smirk. Kate grunted. "I'm here to help Aunt Theresa with the BnB while you recover, Uncle Herb."

"Oh, I can manage for a while this afternoon without you, dearie," Theresa insisted.

Kate pursed her lips and gave her aunt her very own version of the famous Beckett look, one she'd perfected in the interrogation box. "What was all that about 'I certainly do need help, what with Margot in labor and all'?"

"Ooh, that was a very impressive imitation," Herb grinned in delight. You'd never know he'd just had a heart attack a few days ago. "She's got you down, Tea."

"That was before, and this is now," Theresa brushed it off. "And now, all we have are the Thompsons—such a lovely little family—and Mr. Castle staying with us." She paused, brow furrowing as she thought. "We do have the Gilberts and Nguyens checking in today, but they both aren't scheduled until much later. You'll be back before then, and I believe the suites are already made up."

Yes, damnit, she'd done that this morning, after making her leave of Castle and his intoxicating blue eyes. And all right, she had to admit, she'd been a little flattered that one of her favorite authors wanted to talk more with her about her profession, and yes, perhaps, she did find him attractive and much more genuine than she'd been expecting, and if it turned into more than just talk, she wasn't entirely averse to that possibility.

Kate let out a groan, sounding too much like a moody teenager to her adult ears. "Okay, fine…," she feigned reluctant agreement. "I'll go."
"Good."

Both her aunt and uncle beamed with happiness at the news. Kate just sat there and tried not to sulk at being found out so easily. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited for her lunch date with Richard freaking Castle.

"You should change into something nicer," her aunt interrupted her thoughts.

"Huh?" she frowned. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Theresa scrunched up her nose. "Perhaps a shower too."