Snowed In

Chapter 12

The morning had been an inspiration!

A rejuvenation!

An innovation!

A revelation!

All of the above. And more.

Castle sat at the small writing desk in his suite at the Hollister Bed & Breakfast, glancing out the window at the falling snow. His laptop had just finished booting up, and he wasted no time in pulling up a new Word document. Wiggling his fingers, he grinned, the rush of adrenaline and excitement that always came when he started a new project filling him with an overwhelming sense of confidence and optimism that he had not felt with his writing in quite a longer period of time than he'd be willing to admit.

Nikki Heat was going to be huge. Bigger than Derrick Storm ever was. He could just feel it. The nuance and depth to the character, thanks to his new muse and inspiration, would make for the most compelling character he had ever created.

In fact, it was the first thing he typed.

Nikki Heat

A small grin touched his lips as he pressed the shift button and added a colon, in a rather brazen and presumptuous move on his part, but he didn't care.

Nikki Heat: Book 1

Okay, so he hadn't yet even written a single paragraph, or even a sentence, but he just knew—he knew—that just one book, one story, wouldn't be enough for him. Even just knowing her for such a short time, Castle couldn't fathom being able to explore that glorious mystery that was Kate Beckett in just one book.

No.

"Ha," he laughed out loud at the impossibility of it.

He'd need more.

More.

Yes!

So much more than one book.

He'd need a whole series of books.

His thoughts drifted back to their breakfast, and their discussion. The truths told. Those left untold. On both sides. The story about her FBI boyfriend hadn't been what she'd originally planned on sharing. No. He could tell. There had been a slight pursing of her lips and a narrowing of her eyes before she spoke, which had let him know that she was holding back, reevaluating which tale to share.

Oh, he didn't begrudge her for switching at the last moment. It was her right.

But…

He wanted to know.

He wanted to know everything about Kate Beckett.

But what romantic heartbreak had she hesitated in sharing? How much had it hurt her? Or was it too salacious that she was embarrassed by its occurrence, and didn't want it to color his opinion of her.

And what about Meredith, Rick? His inner voice chided him. You didn't tell her about returning home after taking little Alexis to the park for some playtime only to then find your wife screwing some two-bit Hollywood director in your own bed.

Burn the sheets. Buy a new mattress.

And yet… she's the one who filed divorce papers.

Why?

Castle never understood that. Afterall, he was the aggrieved party. At least she hadn't fought him over custody of Alexis.

Shaking his head, he pulled his meandering thoughts away from those troubled, darker times, and thought of his breakfast conversation with Kate Beckett.

His heart thrummed beneath his chest.

There could be something there. Something real.

He hadn't had real in quite a long time.

Could he handle real? Could he even do real?

You did it before.

He clenched his eyes shut.

With Kyra.

You can do it again.

Don't be afraid.

That was easier said than done.

Castle wondered what Kate Beckett would think about that. A man with the reputation as a playboy was afraid of her. Well, more what the idea of her meant. Because she really was quite unlike any woman before.

He didn't just want to get into her pants, though that was very high on his priorities. He wanted more. Much more.

However, at this moment in time, she was providing him with inspiration like never before, and as he bent down and positioned his fingers over the keyboard, Richard Castle felt the air crackle with energy as lightning finally—Thank God—struck.

His fingers flowed with ease across the keyboard, practiced and familiar, and words—marvelous, glorious words—filled the page and continued, spreading forward and onward. Characters populated the pages, ready and willing to lead him into a new world of crime… and perhaps a future romance.

It was always the same for her when she arrived to meet the body. After she unbuckled her seat belt, after she pulled a stick pen from the rubber band on the sun visor, after her long fingers brushed her hip to feel the comfort of her service piece, what she always did was pause. Not long. Just the length of a slow deep breath. That's all it took for her to remember the one thing she will never forget. Another body waited. She drew the breath. And when she could feel the raw edges of the hole that had been blown in her life, Detective Nikki Heat was ready. She opened the car door and went to work.*(1)

XXX

"Oh, sorry, did I wake you?" Kate asked, brow furrowed with worry lines as she stuck her head through the door to her aunt and uncle's bedroom.

Her Uncle Herb was reclined on top of the duvet, his head propped up with two pillows. He offered her a small smile and raised a hand, waving her in. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

"Not at all, Katie," he said, shifting to push himself up.

She rushed to assist, knowing that the doctors had advised against him putting too much weight on his chest. He let out a soft groan, and didn't object to her help. He wasn't the stubborn type. He wasn't a Beckett. He was a Hollister. And the only man, besides her father, that she accepted the nickname 'Katie' from.

"Ah, thanks," he sighed, when she had him propped up with his back against the headboard, pillows helping to support him. "That's better. And no… I'd just been napping. Damn thing, this ticker of mine. You think you have all the time in the world and not a care, and then… well, we all know that better than most, don't we, Katie?"

She nodded, brushing her hair back from her face and trying not to dwell too much on the heartache that still sometimes overwhelmed her. She missed her mother, desperately so. Johanna Beckett would know just the right thing to say, to reassure her about her decisions, or even to help her see the errors of which she refused to admit. But Johanna Beckett had been a firm believer in letting Kate make her own mistakes.

Life never throws anything at you that you can't handle.

Johanna Beckett's immutable law. Kate, on the other hand, wasn't so sure about that. She struggled so much since… since losing her mother that sometimes, out of seemingly nowhere, she'd be plagued with self-doubt and raw insecurity. This morning, she'd been open to something more than friendship happening with Castle, even if it was just a fling, but doubts and worries regarding such a decision still gnawed at her during the rest of the day, making her reassess prior choices.

It was damn frustrating, the way her mind didn't always cooperate. Kate wasn't always like this. At work, she was always certain and knew what to do, firm in her conviction, never doubting, but when it came to her life outside the precinct, especially matters of the heart, she wasn't so certain. This was when it would have helped to have her mother to turn to. But she didn't have her mother. Her mother had been taken from her.

"Here, sit down," Herb said, pulling her out of the discombobulating thoughts weighing her down, and patting the empty spot beside him on the bed.

Kate hesitated, knowing she still had some tasks to complete before heading back down to the kitchen and helping her Aunt Theresa with preparing a dinner for their guests. She'd kept herself busy with various tasks, not wanting to really dwell too much on her conversation with Castle over breakfast, knowing those doubts would only persist if she thought too much on it. He hadn't appeared for lunch, and she'd been tempted to go up and check on him, but she resisted the urge.

"Tea's been busy seeing to our guests, so I could use the company. Just for a little while, if you can spare the time for your favorite uncle," Herb persuaded with a wily little smirk.

Kate couldn't hold back the matching smirk.

He was right. He was her favorite uncle.

Not that she didn't like her mother's brothers, but they… we're difficult. And mostly absent during the majority of her life. That side of her family, with the exception of her grandparents, hadn't really been that friendly, even when she was little. She'd always got the impression that Cole and Stephen Whitney hadn't approved of their baby sister's choice of husband. At least, that's what she gathered from her cousin Sofia during visits with her grandparents. Added to that was the fact she hadn't seen or heard from either uncle since her mother's funeral.

"I won't tell, if you don't," Herb winked conspiratorially.

She bit her lower lip to hold back a laugh. She'd always had a soft spot for her Uncle Herb. So, she did as he requested, and sat down on the bed, folding her legs underneath herself as she got comfortable.

"How's the generator?" he began.

"I ran the starter test, just as you taught me," Kate said, grinning at the pride in his eyes. "And it all came back positive." She paused, and cast a sidelong glance at him. "You've updated the shed. The last time I visited it didn't have an electronic lock."

He let out a mild laugh. It saddened her a bit. Before, Herbert Hollister would have delivered a boisterous bellow of a laugh that would light up her world. "If Tea had her way, we'd still be using a keyed padlock. She still doesn't trust the modern advancements in technology."

Kate suppressed a smile. That definitely explained the out-of-date desktop computer in the home office. And… now that she thought of it, the old-fashioned tube TV in the sitting room. And here she'd always thought Aunt Theresa did that for the cozy atmosphere.

"At least she allows Wi-Fi," she said, allowing herself a soft chuckle.

A twinkle touched her uncle's eyes, and he shifted, arching his neck a bit as he looked at her. "Tea told me you had help. How'd that man of yours do?"

Kate frowned at his use of the possessive. "He's not mine." Yet, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Lanie echoed in her head. "But yes, he was… helpful."
Herb smirked, his bushy eyebrows waggling in that mischievous way of his that she'd always found so very endearing.

"What?" she narrowed her eyes.

"You like him, Katie," he informed her.

"I…," she opened her mouth to protest, but discovered that she couldn't.

Herb's eyes flashed with triumph. "I knew it."

"Shut up," she grumbled.

He chuckled, and it did her good to see him so happy, even if she hated being proved wrong. Her Uncle Herb patted her knee in feigned sympathy.

"It's the way you light up when you talk about him," he explained.

"Huh?"

"How I knew," Herb offered. "And why Tea's been… well… that's just our Tea."

Kate hummed in agreement. Aunt Theresa had always been trying to play matchmaker, and not just with her. Margot, the BnB's regular employee, who'd since given birth to a healthy baby boy, had been single the last time Kate had visited. She'd since learned that it had been Theresa who'd set up Margot with her husband Robbie.

"You should have heard her moaning and groaning earlier," Herb said, having guessed her unspoken thoughts. "When Robbie called with the happy news, he also let slip they'd christened their newborn Robert Jr. instead of naming him in honor her. Ha."

"Oh, I bet Theresa loved that," Kate chuckled.

"I believe her exact words were 'How unoriginal'," Herb informed her with a smirk, before getting a faraway look. "God… I love that woman. She drives me insane sometimes, but that only makes life all the more interesting."

Kate nodded. She'd been blessed with good examples in her parents. Her aunt and uncle also fit into that category. And she'd always wanted a love story like them. Sadly, her taste in men hadn't been that great in her youth, but she liked to think it had improved with age, which was why she'd been fighting her attraction to Richard Castle. Guys like him, they came and went. They upset the apple cart, and could make her feel alive, but eventually, they'd always just let her down, and she'd get hurt.

So why risk it?

"Life's no fun if you always play it safe," Herb said softly, his gaze boring into her.

She blinked, suddenly realizing she'd asked the question out loud without even knowing it.

"Live, Katie," Herb insisted, taking her hand. "You're too young to have given up on it already."

"I haven't given…," but her objection died on her lips. He was right. She didn't really have fun anymore. Not the kind she'd had before. With some minor exceptions, her current life revolved around work. And her work revolved around death.

Live.

Uncle Herb didn't say anymore. He didn't need to. He held her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze. "I just want my favorite niece to be happy."

Kate let out a little snort of a laugh. "I'm your only niece."

"Yes, yes, so you keep telling me," he chuckled, and squeezed her hand once more, growing serious. "Be happy, Katie. Not for me. Not for Tea. Not for Jim. Not even for Jo. Be happy for you. Because you deserve it. You've always deserved it."

Kate swallowed, fighting back tears. She met her uncle's imploring eyes and nodded. "I will."

*(1) - Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Heat Wave by Richard Castle (aka Tom Straw).