Just two ships passing in the night; that's what they felt like.
Beckett had been picking up extra shifts where she could, doing her part to help out as the usual rounds of winter-related illnesses made their sweep through the precinct.
Castle had been keeping busy promoting his latest novel. Book stores, talk shows, radio interviews: he seemed to be everywhere, just not with her.
She would get home late; most night's he would already be in bed. She would eat the meal he'd have prepared for her, shower and then slip into bed and huddle up to him for warmth.
In the early hours of the morning - long before he'd like - he would jolt awake, hit the off button of his alarm clock before it had the chance to disrupt Kate's sleep, too. He'd allow himself a minute to wake properly before pressing a kiss to the top of her head and forcing himself from bed and shuffling sluggishly toward the bathroom.
Just two ships passing in the night.
His shower was long, longer than what was probably necessary but heat of the water worked wonders on the muscles of his back, helped drain the fatigue from his body. When he stepped out, steam and cold air swirled around him: biting, revitalizing.
He turned to grab his towel from the rack, that was when he saw it in the corner of his eye: her message.
The steam had fogged up the mirror and revealed words that had been invisible before.
I love you.
Written in her perfect penmanship, framed by a perfect heart.
He smiled to himself, thanked the universe - or God... Cupid... whoever or whatever was responsible - for sending Kate Beckett his way.
She had set an alarm to wake her in time to catch his appearance on yet another mid-morning talk show. The interviews were all the same; same questions, same answers, same charming smile. But it seemed these interviews were the only time she got to see that charming smile lately. And so, she watched them all.
Every. Single. One.
It didn't matter how late she worked or how early the segment would be aired: she watched.
It didn't matter if she was at home or at the precinct: she watched.
And she smiled.
And she missed him.
She forced herself out of bed, walked to the kitchen to make herself an extra strong cup of coffee before curling up into the corner of the couch and turning on the television.
Her partner walked out onto the stage, smiling and waving to the enthusiastic audience as they cheered him on.
It was something she loved to see - people adoring him - and sometimes it felt surreal to think about how not that long ago she was one of those people: adoring him from afar. And now she was a welcomed guest in his home, in his life. She spent her days in his company, her nights in his bed and she knew that even if she wasn't in his arms, she was in his heart.
She had never felt more grateful.
As he spoke, she closed her eyes and sipped from her coffee; she pretended he was right there with her.
The segment was short, only five minutes. With a sigh, she reluctantly began to get ready for yet another day of work: starting with a deservedly long, steaming shower.
The water worked to rid her of the winter morning's chill. Warmth soaked through her skin and sunk deep into her bones until standing under the stream of water became nearly unbearable.
She stepped out into the cool air, allowed the sudden contrast to shock and wake her senses as she reached for her towel and slowly wrapped it around her body. She grabbed her toothbrush, squeezed a small amount of toothpaste onto it and ran it under the faucet. As she looked up into the mirror she saw her hidden message to Castle - revealed by the fresh, dewy layer of condensation that covered the mirror's surface - and smiled. Her smile only brightened when she noticed his sweet, simple reply.
I miss you, my love.
Written in his perfect penmanship, framed by a perfect heart.
And she thought to herself how lucky she was to be loved by Richard Castle.