A Friend in Need

A/N: Takes place in season four, whenever you want it to be. Just a cute lil thing I randomly thought of. I hope you enjoy!

—-

Castle winced, seeing Kate walk into the precinct with her new, unwanted accessory draped across her chest. She walked slowly, as if each step caused her discomfort, but she walked right through the throng of curious officers as if nothing was amiss.

She'd sworn to him it hadn't been bad, the fall she'd taken apprehending their suspect last night. He'd believed her, because he always did, but now it was obvious she'd been lying.

She'd lied to him. It made him feel all itchy inside.

"I brought coffee. When you didn't answer my call, I wasn't sure what time to meet you here."

She flopped down onto her desk chair, averting her eyes away from his.

"How bad is it really, Kate?" he asked more softly this time, noting how she'd ignored him. It hurt, but he couldn't say he was surprised. She was prideful that way.

She took the coffee with her free hand, still looking down at her desk. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and his stomach twisted. Had she gone alone to the hospital last night? How had she managed to dress herself this morning? Castle couldn't help but wonder how long she'd struggled, instead of just pushing aside the stubbornness and asking someone for help.

"It's just a dislocated shoulder, Castle. I'm not dying."

He leaned back, still eyeing her, and spread his legs in front of him. "You lied to me. When I asked if you were okay."

She conveniently took a long sip of coffee instead of replying.

"And," he continued, "you didn't tell Espo or Ryan either. They were wondering when you'd be coming in."

Kate pursed her lips. "It's fine. I'm fine. Really."

"Does Gates know?"

Kate scoffed, but nodded. "I'm on desk duty until the doctor clears me," she mumbled.

"Which is clearly driving you nuts."

She shot him a weary, annoyed look and tried to flick some hair from her face. "It was an accident. Accidents happen."

"They do," he said, nodding. "And it's okay to ask for help when they happen."

She leaned back defiantly in her chair. "And how do you know I didn't have help?"

He absolutely refused to tell her that her shirt was on backwards. She'd be mortified, and they'd get nowhere with this conversation.

So he changed course. "What about your dad? Can he help?"

Kate shook her head and sighed. "He's busy. But it's fine. Hopefully the sling will come off in a few weeks, and in the meantime, my other hand works just fine."

He bit his lip to keep his innuendo to himself. Now was not the time for a sexual joke.

"So you're digging in your heels on this? Really? Refusing help from anyone?"

"How are you so certain I don't already have help?" she bit out, and he could tell by the pink in her cheeks that he was indeed correct in his assumptions.

Castle straightened, eyes never leaving hers. "Because, Kate. You're… you. None of us even knew you were hurt."

She must have sensed the bitterness in his voice, because her posture slumped slightly and she frowned. "I didn't want anyone to worry."

He wanted more than anything to take her hand in his, but by the grace of God they remained folded in his lap. "Of course we'd worry. We lo–" he stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again, "we all care about you."

Kate blew some of the loose strands of hair out of her face. "I know. I just…" She looked around the room, as if assessing the risk of being overheard. "I don't want to be a burden on anyone."

This time his left hand shot out, and he found himself laying a palm on her forearm. She tensed under his touch. "You're never, ever a burden. On anyone. You'd do it for any one of us, right?"

The side of Kate's mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. "Except maybe Ryan. He's got Jenny."

Castle nodded. "Yeah, and I guess Espo's got Lanie."

"Yeah…"

Then Castle grinned like the cheshire cat. "Just me, then. You'd do it for me, if you had to."

Kate's cheeks flushed again. "You're my partner," she said, as if that was answer enough. Her expression told him everything he needed to know.

Her hand swiped up at a loose curl and finally Castle couldn't take it anymore. He spied a hair tie on Kate's wrist, and he motioned to it as he stood up from his chair.

"May I?" he asked.

Kate, looking dubious, replied, "May you what?"

Gently, Castle slid the black band from around her thin wrist. He wiggled it in front of her, and Kate's head darted to both sides, scanning the room.

"Castle!"

"What? You keep fussing with your hair."

"People will… people will see you."

"So? They'll also see you, and know that clearly you can't do this yourself."

Her mouth opened and closed and a small squeak escaped.

"Is that a 'no'?" he teased lowly, fingers twitching in anticipation of touching her hair. (Kate's hair! God how he'd fantasized about running his hands through it someday. Not quite in this manner, but still.)

"I… Ugh… I guess not," she finally caved. Her jaw was clenched so tightly, he prayed she wouldn't crack a tooth.

"Trust me, Kate. I know what I'm doing." With the gentlest of touches, he pulled her hair back from her forehead, straightening out the strands on her back. "You forget I have a daughter. I had to learn all the hottest hair trends when Alexis was little."

He could smell her, being this close, and it made his spine tingle. As he ran his fingers through the silken strands, soft notes of cherries wafted up and around him, intoxicating him in a way he hadn't expected (or prepared for).

It wasn't until Kate let out a soft sigh at the relaxing nature of his ministrations that Castle finally came to his senses and realized where they were - a public place. Her workplace. Whatever fantasies he'd had about touching her hair were not meant to be explored here.

With deft fingers, Castle began french braiding Kate's hair. He started in the center, gently pulling strands from each side until he'd gotten a good rhythm, then he continued down to the nape of her neck.

"Look down," he ordered gently, and she obliged without a word. Then he finished the braid, and tied the hair tie around the end, securing it in place.

He hadn't french braided in easily five, six years, but he certainly wasn't out of practice.

"Care to see it?" he asked, and Kate raised her head. She swiveled to look at him, an expression of awe on her face.

"Sure."

He snapped a photo with his phone and handed the device to her. He couldn't see her expression as she inspected his work, but he didn't have to. She was grinning widely by the time she finally handed the phone back to him.

"It looks… surprisingly great, Castle."

He pretended to scoff, holding a hand over his wounded heart. "Surprisingly?"

Kate laughed, and he felt the sound down deep in his belly. "I never would have pegged you for such a perfectionist."

He grinned, pride swelling, and retook his seat.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should." She placed her good hand on top of his, and his entire being swelled inside him – every bone, muscle, nerve now alight with her touch. "I mean it. Thank you, Castle."

She was his friend, and she was in need. Maybe, if she let him, he could show up for her in more ways than this over the next few weeks. Maybe she'd see that he was reliable, that he'd do anything for her.

That maybe, in time, he could be someone closer than just a friend, just a partner.

"For you, Detective Beckett? Always."