WORTH WORKING FOR
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EARLY JANUARY
"Come in."
Kate steps into her captain's office, her stomach churning with nerves. "Sir, do you have a minute?"
Gates takes off her reading glasses and folds her hands on top of her desk. "Of course. Have a seat, Detective."
Kate shuts the door behind her, taking a deep breath as she does, and sits in one of the chairs in front of Gates.
"Did Detectives Ryan and Esposito make it to Atlantic City?"
"Oh." Kate blinks, then remembers that the boys are on their way to the Jersey shore to investigate the murder of a casino owner. "They should be there soon. But I need to talk to you about something else."
Gates nods.
"Um, you should know that I need to take a leave of absence this summer, starting in early June."
"Oh?"
Kate's cheeks flush. She and Gates hadn't necessarily gotten off to a bad start, but it had been a little rocky. She didn't like that the captain shut down the investigation into her shooting, although she does know that no leads in four months definitely justified it. And, being the former head of IAB, Gates runs a much tighter ship than Montgomery had. She's more involved in cases, checking and double-checking every step of the way. It isn't bad, just different, and took some getting used to.
Over the past few months, though, the early tension has steadily dissolved, and their relationship has turned into one of mutual respect.
"Yes, Sir," she continues. "Maternity leave. I'm pregnant."
Gates raises her brows, but other than that, her expression remains neutral long enough for Kate to feel her nerves creep back in. After what seems like forever, but is probably just a few seconds, Gates's face softens and she smiles. "Congratulations."
Kate blinks. "Sir?"
"Am I correct to assume that this played a factor in Mr. Castle's visits during the sniper case?"
Kate's cheeks burn, and she nods. "Yes. He was worried about me, and, well..." She motions vaguely to her belly.
"I see. Well, I can't fault him for that." Gates nods. "What do you need from me right now? Obviously, we'll continue to accommodate doctor appointments and such. Do you need to stay out of the field?"
"No, it's fine for now. I'm only about eighteen weeks," she adds. "But I'm sure I'll have to switch to desk duty at some point."
"Okay. Just let me know. Oh, and Kate?"
Kate pauses as she moves to stand.
"Tell Mr. Castle he's welcome to visit, as long as his presence doesn't impede anyone's performance."
Kate nods, a smirk tugging her lips when she sees the twinkle in her captain's eye. "Thank you, Sir."
"And she said that as long as your, quote, 'presence doesn't impede anyone's performance,' end quote, you can visit the precinct," Kate says later as she summarizes her conversation with Gates.
Rick grins and joins her on the couch, drapes his arm across the back as he shifts to face her. "So, she would've approved of my Christmas visits?" he jokes.
She rolls her eyes. "Maybe. Still, probably best to check next time."
"Will do. Speaking of the future, I'd like to run something by you." When she nods in encouragement, he continues. "I'd like to shadow you. Not just visit, or tag along like I've done. But truly shadow you, see your whole process, the ins and outs of your job."
"Uh." She blinks. "Why?"
"Research."
"Research?" she echoes. "For what?"
The corner of his mouth quirks. "For a book. Or did you forget what I do for a living?"
She rolls her eyes again. "Shut up. What I mean is, why?"
"As a fan," he teases, "you may already know that my last few books haven't been all that well-received. They still sell, but frankly, I've been struggling for inspiration. But watching you on Christmas, the way you just laser focused on the victim, and knowing you outside of work, I'm inspired again."
Her cheeks warm under his words. He's told her before that he admires her, how her mom's murder has driven her to become the detective she is today. But this feels different.
"You've given me a new idea for a character."
"A new character?"
He grins. "Yes, Kate. Repeating it back to me won't make it any less true. I'd like to base a character on you. A detective, so I want to make sure I have procedural accuracy," he explains.
Oh.
"Why me?" she eventually asks.
"Why not you?" He shifts closer and takes her hand in his. "Because you're smart, you know what you're doing, and as a bonus, very easy on the eyes," he adds with a wink. "Plus, frankly, I love spending time with you. So shadowing you at work, it seems like a win-win."
She sighs and curls her fingers around his palm. He makes good points, on all accounts. After a few moments of deliberation, she nods. "I'll talk to Gates. But Rick, no matter what, I want to approve this character. And if you're using me and my story as inspiration, you have to change details, okay? I won't let you use my mother to sell books."
He nods. "I wouldn't dream of it, Kate," he promises, squeezing her hand.
JANUARY 9
"Why are you so worried, Kate?"
Kate looks up at her therapist in surprise. "Why am I worried about the father of my child accompanying me to active crime scenes and participating in interrogations and arrests?" she asks. She motions to her belly. "I repeat: father of my child."
Dr. Burke's mouth quirks. "I did catch that," he quips before turning serious again. "You're scared to lose him."
"I'm not scared," she argues, ignoring the knowing look in his eyes. "Like I said, I'm worried. I'm a cop. He's a writer. He doesn't know what he's getting into."
"Doesn't he?" Dr. Burke leans back in his chair and crosses one leg over the other. "You said yourself that he had to sign waivers, and he was there during the sniper case. He's an adult, Kate. He's capable of making his own decisions."
"Yeah, but-" She stops herself and sighs. She knows exactly why, even though he's already shadowed her for a few days, she's hesitant about Rick being with her at work.
She looks down at the carpet in front of her feet. "If something happened to him..." she mumbles. "If I couldn't stop it..."
Dr. Burke hums. "You'd feel responsible."
"Of course. He's a civilian under my charge. His safety is my responsibility. So-"
She glances up at Dr. Burke, and when she sees the concern in his eyes, she stops dead in her tracks.
"It would be my fault," she whispers, hugging the familiar throw pillow to her chest.
"No," Burke gently corrects, "it would be the fault of whomever hurt him. You'll do your best to protect him, to keep him safe."
She takes a deep, shuddering breath, her vision blurring with unshed tears.
"What are you afraid of, Kate?" he asks in his soft, encouraging voice.
"I don't want to fail him," she manages, her voice cracking with emotion.
"You wouldn't."
"I would. I will." Anger surges through her, anger and frustration towards him, towards Rick, towards herself.
She stands and paces in front of the couch, unable to keep still anymore.
"I'm a really good detective," she says. "Maybe best in the precinct. Highest case closure rate, anyway. But-" She runs a hand through her hair. "I can't solve the two most important cases of my life. I've failed my mom and failed myself. I can't fail him, too."
"Kate."
She stops pacing and turns to face Dr. Burke, who's now leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
"You haven't failed your mom, and you haven't failed yourself."
"The guy who shot me is still out there," she argues, gesturing towards the window. "Maybe waiting for me to be vulnerable, to stumble onto something that makes me a target again. I don't know. What I do know is that whoever hired him is responsible for my mom's murder. I found the man who stabbed her, others involved in the conspiracy she'd uncovered, including my own damn captain. But still-"
She leans her hip against the arm of the couch. "The one piece to pull it all together, I don't have it. I never will. I'll never get justice for Mom, I'll spend the rest of my life knowing that I've failed her, disappointed her-"
"No you haven't."
She wipes tears from her cheeks and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.
"Listen to me, Kate," he says in his deep, soothing voice. "You have not disappointed your mother. You have not failed her. She's dead. She can't feel those emotions anymore."
"Aren't you supposed to be encouraging?"
His mouth quirks. "Let me finish. Both of these cases have stalled, but that is no fault of yours. A lack of evidence or any leads does not make you a failure or a disappointment."
He shrugs. "In fact, I'd say that your worry about this, your anxiety over the hypothetical possibility of something happening to Rick on your watch, that's all proof. You've dedicated your life to finding justice for others, Kate, and you're damn good at it."
Kate swallows around a thick lump in her throat. He's not wrong; she is damn good at her job. But still, the rest gnaws at her, the knowledge that despite everything else – the victims and families she's helped, the success she's had over the years – she may never solve the most important, and personal, cases of her life.
But...
Maybe that's okay. Not ideal, of course. But she has more to consider than herself now.
She presses her hand to her belly, to the life she's growing, this person she'll be bringing into the world in a few short months.
Maybe it's time to focus on something else. Something not centered around what she has not done, and more around what she can do now.
"I've made my entire life about my mom," she says quietly, her voice cracking on the last word. "Shaped my career around her murder. Refused to let too many people close to me, for fear of another crippling loss. It's made me who I am today. But..."
She slowly lifts her gaze to Dr. Burke. "I want to be more than who I am," she admits, a weight lifting from her shoulders as soon as the words are out. "I need to be more. For my son, for Rick, for-" She pauses. "For myself," she finishes in a near-whisper. "But how can I do that?"
"With my help," Dr. Burke says quietly. "But my question to you is: are you ready?"
She nods. "Yeah, I think I am."
A small smile appears on Dr. Burke's face, and Kate gets the impression that he's been waiting to hear that for a long time.
She hadn't planned on seeing him today.
After her appointment, she went to her mother's grave, added flowers to the ones her dad left earlier that morning, and the whole time, she figured that once she got home, she'd continue her usual anniversary tradition of not seeing or talking to anyone.
The day has always been an unwelcome reminder of her inability to solve the case that haunts her.
But Dr. Burke's parting words echo in her mind on her way home, and when she lets herself into her cold, dark, empty apartment, she realizes what she actually wants.
Don't make today all about your mom, he'd said. Do something different. Do something for yourself.
She turns on her heater and a few lamps, but as she's staring at her food delivery options, she sighs.
She doesn't want this. She doesn't want to be alone tonight.
She switches to her messaging app before she even realizes what she's doing, and her fingers fly over the keyboard.
Are you busy tonight?
Rick's reply is immediate.
Just editing, why?
Do you want to come over?
Be there in fifteen.
Rick knocks on the door exactly fourteen minutes later and she lets him in, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as he takes off his coat and shoes.
"How are you?" he asks, tucking his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.
Kate didn't have a plan for when he arrived, just knew that she wanted – needed – to see him. But now that he's here, his five o'clock shadow beckoning, the smell of coffee and his cologne lingering between them and setting her hormones on fire, it's all she can do not to immediately drag him to her bedroom.
Still, she closes the distance between them in a few long strides, and she takes his face in her hands, pulls his mouth down to hers.
His hands lift to cup her cheeks, his touch soft, almost reverent, and she sighs when he deepens the kiss. All too soon, though, he pulls away, leaning back when she chases him. Her name falls from his lips, his gaze roaming over her face, studying her. She tries to steel herself, to hide the turmoil that's been churning in her all day, but he's too observant, and they've spent too much time together, for her to be successful.
"Did something happen?" he rasps, his thumbs brushing across her cheeks.
She shakes her head and steps back, immediately missing his touch when his arms drop to his side. "No, I just wanted to see you." When he just lifts a brow, she sighs. "Today's hard," she starts, stepping back until she's leaning against the door. "It's the anniversary of my mom's...well, you know."
It shouldn't be this hard to say the word "death."
"Thirteen years," she continues. "It gets, well, not easier, but more tolerable every year. Or, it has. This year, though..." She trails off, then sighs. "It's just been a really hard day. Harder than usual."
She reaches out to take his hand, and she leads him to the couch, draws his hand into her lap once they sit. Her gaze drops to their tangled fingers, and she takes a deep breath.
It's beyond time to be completely honest with Rick.
"Last spring, I was shot by a sniper," she says after a long silence. "I was investigating my mom's murder, and in the process, my captain was killed, and the same people tried to kill me at his funeral. It's a miracle I'm alive, really."
She presses her free hand to her chest. "The night we met, that was the end of my first week back at work. I came back to find that not only was my case unsolved, but it had gone cold. Nobody was even assigned to it. I started to investigate again, but Gates found out, threatened to suspend me if I kept at it, so I put it away."
"But every day, I wake up knowing that the person behind my mom's murder, and my attempted murder, is still out there, and there's nothing I can do about it." Tears blur her vision, and she tries to blink them away. "If I pursue the cases, will they come after me again? Will they do it anyway, even if I don't?"
Her gaze locked on their hands, she nods. "As far as I know, I'm next. And if you're around me..." She trails off and looks up, finally meeting his watery gaze with her own.
"I don't know if there's still a hit on me, if they're just waiting for me to revisit the case, or just ask the wrong person the wrong question. Anyone close to me could be a target. I don't know who's pulling the strings or when they'll make a move. I'm walking around with a bullseye on my back, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it."
She doesn't bother trying to stop the tears now, all of her feelings – sadness, frustration, anger – bubbling to the surface. Rick doesn't say anything, just lifts his free hand and swipes his thumb under her eyes.
"I'm toxic, Rick," she whispers. "My career, my entire life, has been dictated by one thing that will always hang over me. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, every time I touch or see my scars, I'm reminded of my failure as a detective, as a daughter."
Rick shakes his head and cups her cheek. "You're not toxic, or a failure," he insists, fire in his eyes. "You are so much more than those two cases, Kate."
She nods. "I'm working on believing that." She lifts her hand to cover his, her fingers slotting between his. "Just be patient with me?"
He leans forward, a small smile tugging at his lips, and he brushes his mouth to hers. "Of course I will," he murmurs.
She really should be tired, Kate thinks when she wakes with the sun shining in her eyes. Between her appointment with Dr. Burke and her subsequent conversation with Rick, she feels raw, like she opened her heart, scraped it clean, and put it back in her chest. Not to mention...
She shifts to her other side, facing Rick, and smirks when he doesn't even budge.
God, she was insatiable last night. They both were.
She certainly wouldn't mind starting the morning with a bang – literally – but she's starving. They'll both need food before anything else, so she slides out of bed and heads towards the kitchen.
Some time later, familiar footsteps precede his hands on her waist, and she smiles and leans back into his chest as he wraps his arms around her.
"Here you are," he rumbles, his voice low in her ear, and sending shivers down her spine. He drops his chin to her shoulder and presses his lips to the side of her neck. "What's all this?"
She closes her eyes for a brief moment and allows herself to get lost in his touch, his warmth, his presence.
She could get used to this.
"Breakfast," she finally answers, realizing he's still waiting, even though it's probably obvious why there's food and two takeout coffee cups on her counter. "I was going to make something, but my fridge is tragically empty, so I ordered in."
He hums, the vibration traveling from his chest all the way down her body. "I have plans for you back in bed, but I guess they can wait." He presses another kiss to her skin, this time her temple, before releasing her and moving towards the cupboards.
"Plates on the left," she instructs, her cheeks flushing when he glances back with a smirk. She loves this version of him, a little clumsy from sleep, everything about him warm and soft and snuggly. And seeing him in her kitchen awakens something else in her, a tug on her heart that may or may not be longing.
Tall and broad, he should be too big for her space. But instead, he seems to fit perfectly, moving around as if he's been there a hundred times, the only giveaway to his relative unfamiliarity being his need to ask where things are. Otherwise, he looks good.
He looks like he belongs.
"I think this one's yours."
She's so caught up in her thoughts that she jumps at the sound of his voice, and she focuses her gaze in time to see him set one of the takeout coffee cups in front of her, the lid shiny from where he'd apparently taken a sip. Out of habit, she swipes her thumb across the top, but still she can taste him alongside the latte when she drinks.
Renewed desire rushes through her, but she ignores it in favor of accepting the full plate that Rick offers.
She bought way too much food for it to go cold.
"Do you work today?" Rick asks a few minutes later, sitting next to her at the table, his left hand on her thigh. Her robe has shifted, so his thumb draws slow circles on her bare skin, driving her crazy with desire.
She manages to drink her coffee without spilling it all over herself, an impressive feat considering how wild her imagination is going. "I'm not scheduled, although I probably should go in to catch up. I got behind on paperwork last week, and haven't had time," she explains at the raise of Rick's brows.
"Or," he says slowly, removing his hand from her leg and trailing his finger along the collar of her robe, "you can save your work for when you're actually on the clock, and find some other way to pass the time."
She shifts in her seat, her knee bumping his, the path of his finger scalding her skin. He hooks his finger in her robe and tugs it open, and her head falls back when he starts moving south. "What do you-" She gasps and arches into his touch.
Her own hand reaches out, and as soon as she reaches her destination, he surges forward, capturing her mouth with his, and lifts her onto the table.
Later, she'll have maple syrup on her ass and bits of pancake in her hair. For now, she just gives into her desire, lust, and longing that is very much mutual, and lets Rick show her the perfect way to spend the day.