Snowed In

Chapter 19

Kate lingered in the kitchen after finishing the prep work for the evening meal, lost in her own thoughts as she tidied up while the oven was set to preheat. Since the snowstorm she'd spent most of her free time with Richard Castle. When they weren't having sex, they were talking, sharing, getting to know one another better and better. He seemed endlessly fascinated by her life, wanting to know anything and everything. And he'd freely and willingly shared some stories from his life that weren't known to the general public. By day three, she was beginning to suspect that this thing between them wasn't just a vacation fling.

And for some reason that had her worried.

Well, not exactly worried. Perhaps more anxious.

Anxious. Yeah.

She was nervous about what would happen when the bubble burst once they went back home to New York City.

It had been a long time since she'd seriously dated anyone. There had been Tom, but with him also being a cop, it was different. And it had never really been too serious. At least for her. Perhaps it had been different for Tom. But for her, it had just been casual. She had always kept one foot out the door in almost every relationship, and she didn't think that would ever change, but then… along came Castle.

They'd only known each other for less than a week, but already, Kate could feel this connection with him that was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before. She normally didn't believe in such things like love at first sight or even the notion of soulmates, which she found a little ridiculous. Yet at the same time, there had always been a romantic side of her, especially when she thought of her parents and they're shared love for one another, having always seen them as being soulmates. Kate was starting to believe that she might have just found hers without even intending it.

Kate recalled a conversation with her mother when she was a teenager and struggling with her growing feelings and attractions.

She'd asked her mother how she knew that her father was the one.

"I didn't," Johanna had answered and then smiled that special smile that was all hers. "Not at first. I was stubborn. Too stubborn for my own good. In the end, I guess, all I can say was that I knew. I just knew he was the one. He was the man I would love for the rest of life. I just knew. And all I had to do was accept it, which admittedly took a little more effort, but I obviously got there in the end."

Kate hadn't really understood what her mother had meant back then, but now she did. She'd suspected it earlier, after they'd first been intimate. Richard freaking Castle, one of her favorite authors, just might be her one.

Yeah, she thought to herself. That is a little terrifying.

The murmuring of approaching voices pulled her out of her thoughts, and she turned back to the stove, checking on the preheating. Her aunt and uncle emerged from the hallway that led to the residential part of the house. Theresa smiled when she saw her.

"Kate dear, there you are," said her aunt, moving towards her but stopped by a gentle hand from her uncle.

"Leave her be, Tea," Herb advised.

On a glance, Kate recognized that look on her uncle's face.

"I just don't want to see her get hurt," Theresa replied, gently shrugging out of her husband's hold.

Kate rolled her eyes and turned towards them. "I'm right here."

"Honey, I'm just worried," Theresa said. "Not that I'm judging, but you've been spending that last three nights… well, not sleeping in your bedroom."

Kate noticed the exasperated look from her uncle and the two shared a look.

"I'm thirty, not thirteen," she reminded her aunt.

"I know, honest, I know," Theresa insisted. "I'm not being some prude. I… don't you think you're going a little fast with this man."

"Tea, I don't think it's any of our business," Herb interjected.

Theresa turned around to look at her husband. "I… I just don't want her to get hurt," she repeated her earlier refrain. "Johanna would want me to look after, Katie. Make sure she wasn't making mistakes."

Her heart clenched at the invocation of her mother's name. Kate knew that her Aunt Theresa meant well, and was just caring for her in her own unique way, but she was growing tired of it.

"My Mom would want me to be happy," Kate asserted.

"So do I," Theresa said. "I just don't want you also to get hurt."

"Even if she thought I was making a mistake, Mom wouldn't say it. She'd let me learn for myself."

"Yeah, that sounds like Jo."

"My Mom once told me that she'd wasted too much time denying her feeling for my Dad because she was afraid of getting hurt," Kate said, feeling her eyes prickle with unshed tears. "I know she regretted wasting that time."

"Kate, dear… this isn't the same."

"How do you know?" Kate asked, point blank, staring hard at her aunt.

"I… I can't?" her aunt admitted. At least she was honest. "But…"

"No," Kate said, shaking her head, and turning back to the stove and the pan containing the tuna casserole she'd prepared for dinner. "You can't. And… honestly, I can't either. But I can't live my life that way. My Mom…" her voice choked up. "My Mom wouldn't want me to. And I'm just… just now… realizing that."

There was a pause as Kate leaned forward against the counter, trying her best to hold back the tears.

"Oh, Kate," Theresa sighed, rushing forward and enveloping her in a comforting hug. "I'm sorry, dear. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have butted in. I'm sorry."

Kate returned the hug. She'd been more annoyed than angry. "I know your heart is in the right place, just… just trust me, okay?"

"I trust you, dear, I do," Theresa said. "I'm… just… oh… I just love you so much." Her aunt squeezed her harder, and Kate realized she wasn't the only one crying.

It was Herb that explained. "You're the closest we'll ever come to having a child of our own," he said.

Shit. She'd never thought of that. Never. It had never really occurred to her to ask why her aunt and uncle hadn't had kids. But judging from her uncle's tone, and her aunt's desperate grip, she was suspecting it wasn't of their own choice. Now many things that she'd wondered at about her aunt's behavior towards her over the years made much more sense.

As her tears dried, Kate embraced her aunt more fiercely, now understanding the odd bit of protectiveness Theresa had been displaying.

As they withdrew, Theresa sniffled and let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "Oh, I do so make a fool of myself at times."

"No," Kate reassured, giving her aunt's hand a squeeze. "You just care. You want the best for me." She looked at her uncle. "You both do."

"We do," Herb confirmed, stepping closer to comfort his wife. Theresa willing leaned into his side, shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she apologized again, wiping her eyes as she glanced up at her husband. "I should be taking care of you right now."

"I'm better," he insisted. "Having Katie here, helping out, especially during this snowstorm, has really helped." He lifted his eyes and met Kate's gaze. "And seeing her find happiness, finally, after all these years… it's done wonders for this old man's heart."

Theresa sniffled again and glanced up at Kate. "You are happy?"

Kate couldn't hold back the smile when she thought of Castle, not even doing anything with him, just being in the same room as him, even just thinking of him. And she had her answer. "Yes. I am. I'm very happy."

Herb nodded and hugged Theresa. "Then that's good enough for us. Isn't it, Tea?"

"Yes," her aunt answered without hesitation, looking first at Herbert and then at Kate. "Yes. It is."

XXX

The last three days had been some of the best in his life. Being with Kate, in every sense of the word, had brought him immense happiness. Listening to her recount her numerous cases was like opening a door to a world he'd never seen before. As a result, his new story had developed more depth and details. Kate had even helped craft a case that Nikki Heat—he'd managed to convince her to let him keep that name—could solve alongside a ruggedly handsome journalist.

"Jameson Rook?" she'd laughed upon reading the character's introduction. "Don't you think that's a bit on the nose?"

He smiled to himself as he sat down to dinner with his muse, though she was so much more than that now. While there was no denying that most of their time alone was spent having glorious sex—the best in his life, if he was honest—there was more to their connection than the physical. A kind of connection he'd lacked in all previous relationships, including his two marriages.

Richard Castle was a man who believed in the magical. And when he was with Kate Beckett—either wrestling in bed or deep in discussion on various stimulating topics—it was simply that. Magical. It had been less than a week since he'd known her, and he was already having difficulties envisioning a life that did not include her in it.

He wanted so much more.

And, unless he was reading her wrong, he believed Kate wanted the same.

Castle had been playing UNO with the Thompsons while Kate made dinner with her aunt. Their young girl, Ellie, reminded him so much of Alexis when she was that age. It had been fun seeing the delighted excitement on the young girl's face when she played a +2 card on him, and he made a big show of pouting and drawing the two cards. Her little giggle and sparkling eyes reminded him how much he missed the days when Alexis was that young.

It made him think of the future.

Did Kate even want kids?

She was at least nine years younger than him, and still heavily invested in her career. But… he was getting ahead of himself. Their relationship was still far too new for such discussions. However, it was something they'd have to talk about soon, before he become far more emotionally invested than he already was, which, at the moment, was considerable.

Presently, Castle jabbed his fork into the tuna casserole and stared out the window. Kate sat across from him, seemingly lost in her own thoughts as she prodded her meal. The other guests were quietly eating as well. Kate's aunt and uncle had joined the Gilberts, while the Thompsons sat at another table, stilling playing UNO as they ate.

He glanced back at Kate and frowned, unable to read her expression. "What are you thinking about?"

She blinked, and offered a soft smile. "Just how fast life can change."

"Hmm?"

Kate shifted, nose wrinkling adorably as she contemplated her response. "I feel like I was a different person before," she tried to explain. "No… wait. No. Not entirely different, but… changed? I don't know. It's hard to explain."

"No, no," he offered a reassuring smile, reaching out across the table to take her hand. "I understand."

She smiled back at him, her eyes alighting with the happiness that had been lacking when they first met. "I definitely hadn't planned on you."

"Ditto," he grinned back.

They shared a chuckle, and then returned to their meal, actually eating it this time instead of poking at it.

"This is really good," Castle praised.

"My mother taught me all I know," Kate said, and then paused when he looked up, having caught the hint of sadness in her voice.

"Kate?"

She looked away, her bottom lip trembling.

"Kate?" he asked, very gently reaching for her hand again.

But she drew it back before he could touch her. Her eyes jerked up, and he could see the tears held at bay.

"She died," she all but whispered it. "I was nineteen. Just back from college on winter break. We… we were supposed to meet for dinner at some restaurant. But… she never showed. When Dad and I got back home, there was a detective waiting. Random gang violence. That's what they claimed."

"Oh, Kate."

"They never caught who did it," she said. "My Dad… he couldn't deal with it. He got lost in the bottle for… a long time. But he's sober now. For the last few years. It's gotten better. And… well, I couldn't handle it either. Couldn't accept it. So, I picked a different obsession. Justice. I… I became a cop. Worked my way up to homicide, so I could provide others with the closure I've been denied."

He'd been right. His initial reading of her had been correct. Her path had been diverted because of losing a loved one to violence and justice eluded.

Castle swallowed, and reached for her hand again, wanting to—needing to—comfort her. This time, she let him take her hand. Her fingers wrapped around his, and she gripped his hand like a vise, as if his touch grounded her, kept her from floating away.

A watery laugh escaped her lips. "I guess Nikki Heat has a tragic backstory now."

Yes. She did. It would make her so much more compelling than she already was. But, for the first time in his writing career, Castle felt the kind of restraint he'd always lacked. This woman wasn't just his muse. She was so much more to him than that. She meant more. For much more. He cared about her, deeply. And her opinion was valued more so than any other romantic partner he'd ever had.

Castle made sure she was meeting his eyes before he responded. "Not if you object."

Her mouth dropped in a silent gasp and her eyes went wide. Clearly it wasn't what she'd been expecting.

"You really mean that?" she asked, voice trembling.

"I mean it," he squeezed her hand, lifting it up to brush his lips to her knuckles. "I did you give you approval rights, remember?" He added, hoping to inject some levity. Humor had always been his coping mechanism.

A small smile cracked through her trembling lips, and the heavy sadness dimmed a bit in her large, expressive eyes. "Thank you," she mouthed, squeezing his hand in return.

She sat up and leaned across the table. Castle met her halfway, and kissed her softly, keeping it chaste, highly aware they weren't alone, and might have an audience.

"That's kind of you," Kate said, leaning back into her chair, her eyes not as sad. "But… I trust you."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said, as if it surprised her a bit. Her smile was brighter now. "You know I'm a fan. And I know your writing style, Castle. And from what I've read of Nikki Heat so far, I know you'll do it right. And…," her eyebrows narrowed, "to do proper justice to Nikki, you should—no—you need to include it."

Castle was left speechless, which was saying something.

It was her turn, now, to inject some levity. "Just remember, I'll be holding you to those approval rights, or you'll be sleeping alone."

He grinned at that, shaking his head. "Kate Beckett," he said before his filter could kick in, "I think I love you."