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001 | Crush
“So you like him,” Lanie affirms, sipping delicately at a lurid pink…something. Kate tears her eyes away from the florescent drink.
“I didn't—”
“Say that, I know,” says Lanie. “You don't have to.”
Kate takes a sip of her much more practical beer and sighs.
“Girlfriend. Don't forget that I'm the one who was there practically since your Castle obsession started. I can't count how many times I've had to listen to you say what a great writer he is, or how handsome—”
Kate holds up a hand to stop Lanie. She doesn't need to hear all of this. Not now. “That was before I knew him,” she says. “Before I'd figured out that he was an arrogant, selfish, annoying—”
“Handsome?” offers Lanie. “Because he still is.”
“But it's not enough to outweigh all his bad traits,” says Kate with a scowl. She's been feeling uncharitable since Castle showed up in the precinct earlier that day with the look of one who had just won the lottery.
“But you still like him,” says Lanie.
“I used to have a little crush,” says Kate. “That's all.”
“Uh-huh. And it's becoming bigger by the minute,” says Lanie, with a mischievous smile.
“No,” protests Kate, aware that her voice is betraying her.
“Right,” says Lanie. “We'll just see how this ends up in a few months.”
002 | Victim
“Okay, okay!” Castle holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I give up! You win!”
Beckett gives him a look of disbelief.
“For today,” he amends. “Tomorrow, the chair is fair game again.” He has that stupid smile on again, the one he wears when he’s trying to charm her—or anyone else, for that matter—into thinking that, regardless of current evidence, he’s not really extremely [insert adjective of choice here].
Beckett just twists his arm further behind his back.
“Never mind! I'll—”
“Whoa, dude.” says Esposito, walking into the precinct. “Are you being beat up by Beckett?”
“Yes!” says Castle, quickly. “Help me!”
“Don't play the victim, Castle, it doesn't suit you,” says Beckett icily, close behind him.
Castle looks pleadingly at Esposito, who shrugs. “She's probably right,” he says. “I'll just, uh, leave you to it.” And he backs out of the room, leaving Castle to fend for himself.
003 | Secret
She doesn't tell people about what happened to her mother.
The people who work with her know, of course, and her closest friends, the ones that were there for her during…everything. Other than that, she doesn't go out of her way to make it common knowledge. Even when people ask.
She’s surprised when she finds herself telling Castle about it after only a few weeks—surprised because it normally takes a year, at least, before she'll share such things; surprised because she's telling this to a man who's basically objectified her in his newest novel.
And he'll do so with this facet of her as well.
Kate feels a bit lighter as she tells him and he accepts it with an unusual quiet grace; as he doesn't act excited as he usually does with tragedy.
Kate’s wondering if there’s something to him that she doesn’t know that’s making him take it this way. And she’s hoping that he’ll stick around for long enough that she can find out.
004 | Laughter
The first time Kevin Ryan hears Detective Beckett laugh at one of Castle's jokes, he's shocked. He teasingly makes a note of it amongst the evidence and is sure to leave it laying around where she'll see it later. This, as it turns out, is a bad idea.
The second time, he decides to forgo the note (he's rather fond of having his manly bits attached, and he doesn't think that Beckett's sense of humor regarding him has changed since last time), but remembers it, all the same.
The third, fourth, and fifth times come in quick succession, and after that, Detective Ryan loses count. Which is, all in all, probably rather good for his manly bits.
Instead of talking to Beckett about it, he shoots significant looks at Esposito, or smiles conspiratorially at Lanie. And though none of them say it to one another for a very long time, they're glad Beckett—Kate—has finally found someone to make her laugh at the hardships of life. It's very much what she needs.
005 | Temptation
When Richard Castle wants something, he wants it loudly. That's why everyone at the precinct knows he wants Kate Beckett, because even if he doesn't run around proclaiming it at the top of his lungs, he brings her coffee and crowds her personal space and stares at her so intently it's hard for her to pretend she doesn't notice.
And even though it makes her hot enough for the man to get that, the part that's really hard for her to resist is when he shows her he genuinely cares about her. When he remembers things she told him expecting that he'd forget; when he makes her laugh because she's having a hard day; when he tells her an unexpected truth about himself instead of making up stupid stories. Those are the pieces that make him into more of a person and less of an untouchable celebrity playboy, and oh does she ever like that.
006 | Opposite
Kate claims they're opposites.
Anyone who doesn't know her believes her; after all, at first glance, they are. She’s the calm, serious one; the one who’s always on top of everything and can solve any case set in front of her. And Castle, well, Castle is a childish writer that doesn’t have it in him to be uptight. From the outside, one wonders how the two even stand each other.
But that's not all there is to either of them—those who work with them every day know that. While it may be true that Castle and Beckett have their differences, they have their similarities just like any two people would. Because though their jobs seem very different, what they’re both about is taking the ugliness of the world and making it bearable. Though it may not seem like very much to the outside observer, to them, it's enough to keep things from falling apart.
007 | Danger
"Stay back," Kate tells him, cocking her gun and aiming it at the door. Castle ignores her, presses close to her shoulder as he always does. I'm here.
Sometimes, Kate wonders if he thinks this is all a game; that he's invincible behind his bulletproof writer vest and the boyish smile he wears to hide whatever fears he may have. He doesn't belong here, really; she shouldn't be letting him come into the field with him because it's dangerous and, paperwork signed or not, she's fully responsible to any harm that may befall him.
(She's become too soft entirely, letting him do all this).
Kate steadies her grip on the gun and prepares to knock on the door, looking at Ryan and Esposito for assurance and feeling the weight of her responsibility hovering just behind her left shoulder.
She's not going to be responsible for Castle getting hurt.
008 | Storm
“So tell me,” Becket asks, one particularly slow afternoon, “why did you kill off Storm?”
She's heard about every possible excuse for Castle's literary faux pas from fansites and gossip magazines, but somehow none of them ring true.
Her question gives Castle pause, and she can see him struggling with whether or not to take her question seriously.
“It wasn't fun anymore,” he says, with an abruptness that she takes to mean that he's decided, against his better judgment, to share with her. “I'd done everything I could with his character. He got old.”
Beckett raises her eyebrows, but bites back the snarky comments she could hit him with.
“What happens when Nikki Heat gets old?” she says in a teasing voice, though she is honestly curious about the answer. “Will she finally be struck down on the job?”
“Maybe I'll have her settle down,” says Castle, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Have her marry a certain reporter, retire to a life of luxury.”
Beckett glares at him. “Or she could get shot,” offers up Castle, “If you'd rather.”
Beckett doesn’t bother to answer. Next time, she thinks she'll just go with the insults.
009 | Sleep
It's late, and Kate needs to get up early the following morning, but she can't seem to settle down enough to sleep. She's still hyped up on adrenaline from their late-night chase, and every time she closes her eyes, she sees their suspect once again aiming his gun and trying to pull the trigger before Ryan's shot makes him drop it. After so long, she should be used to the danger, but this time, it's not her—his gun had been pointed at Castle, and if he'd gotten around to pulling the trigger, it would have been Castle who would've dropped.
(He didn't. Castle's still alive and well and as much as Beckett doesn't like feeling that she's put him in danger, she's too selfish to give up having him as a partner. She doesn't like her job as much when he's not around.)
Why is she still worried about him? It's absolutely ridiculous, yet Kate feels the need to prove to herself that he's still alive; that she's not done anything to harm him (because she doesn't think she could live with that, and she hopes she's never asked to try to).
Giving in to the inevitable, she grabs her phone and punches out a quick text: You awake?
It seems the message has barely been sent when her phone is buzzing with his reply. She opens it and reads, You in the mood for ice cream?
And she can't think of anything that sounds better.
010 | Wedding
Kate's surprised at the way Castle can turn into a completely mature, serious person with seemingly little effort. He's done so now, seated at Kira Blaine's wedding, face void of any inappropriate levity. Kate almost remarks on it, then remembers what he said before and wonders if he's wishing he was standing at the altar instead. But then—no, she can't see him getting married here, and not to Kira. Kira's not quite the kind of girl that would have been right for him, she doesn't think, but then again, who is?
She finds herself comparing her personal traits with those of Gina and, god forbid, Meredith, and forces her brain back into more friendly waters.
When Kira comes out, she turns with everyone else to see the bride. “She's beautiful,” Kate finds herself muttering.
“Yes,” Castle agrees, but when Kate chances a look back at him, his eyes are no longer filled with either longing or regret; he watches Kira as a friend, and only as that.
011 | Candles
When she walks into the precinct, Kate's first thought is that her desk has caught fire.
She races over only to find it's covered in candles, and all the flammable goods have thankfully been placed far out of reach.
All that's there is an envelope with a sticky note on top—Make a wish before you blow out all the candles.
Kate feels like she's twelve again, but does as she's told, closing her eyes for a moment and allowing herself to hope before she takes a breath and puts out every single flame that's been planted.
Her hands are shaking as she opens the envelope, though it couldn't possible contain what she'd wished for. In fact, all it has is a small piece of paper with a few hastily-scrawled words. Kate pulls it out and reads—Meet me downstairs. We're going on an adventure.
She figures it's probably one of those things to just do instead of waste time arguing over (especially because she’ll probably lose anyway), so Kate picks up her coat and walks back out of the door.
She leaves the candles on her desk. If anyone asks, they'll provide her with an excuse.
012 | Deception
Too late, she gets it: this is her fault. This stupid game they've been playing across two years and the entire state was started by her. And now he's going to end it. He doesn’t say it’s forever, but Kate doesn’t expect him to come back. He has everything he wants already, and she’s not a part of that. Anymore.
Kate would be mad at herself if she had the energy, but instead she's hit by sadness, then regret, then a few other emotions she's not sure she can identify, then fatigue.
Lanie offers to come over so they can talk a bit; Kate declines: she's dead tired, she claims. She just needs to go to bed.
As she tosses and turns and tries to get to sleep, her mind keeps going back to the game she's just lost, and she finally understands why her mother told her to never, ever lie.
013 | Regret
Summer is supposed to be the best time of the year, but for Kate, it's like hell. It's more than the sweltering heat that overtakes the streets; more than the fact that crime goes up in the last week of June and they're all run down. It's the fact that she no longer has a partner her to help her with her cases. With anything
Sitting at her desk in a rare moment of peace, Kate wants to blame Castle for that one, because he left her. But she knows that's not the whole story; that they're both a little bit to blame on this one, and either of them could have fixed it had they spoken up soon enough. Now she's left here to live out the summer on her own and hope that a the end, there will be someone left for her to voice her regrets to.
014 | Fall
The air has turned crisp and the leaves begun to change by the time Castle finds his way back to the twelfth. He makes his entrance unannounced; walks slowly over to Kate's desk as if to get stock of everything that's changed while he's been away.
For all that's happened, Kate thinks that things are still mainly the same.
"Detective Beckett," he says, slipping into the chair that she’s left by her desk all summer (as what? A reminder?).
“Hello, Castle,” she greets him, stumbling over the unfamiliar awkwardness that's stepped between them. “How was your summer?”
She immediately curses herself for asking the question; she'd sworn to stay out of his affairs because what had or hadn't happened in the Hamptons wasn't her business (and she doesn't want to know).
“Book's finished,” he says with a small smile. He pulls a package out from under his coat and hands it to her. “I got you an advance copy.”
Kate fingers the package appreciatively and also a bit curiously. She feigns disinterest. “Any warnings you have for me before I read this?” she asks. He shakes his head. “Well,” says Kate, “I'm afraid we don't have any cases at the moment, but if you want to stick around and refill my coffee while I finish this paperwork…”
015 | Time
The first few car rides once he's back are as awkward as they were at the beginning—neither of them sure what to say anymore; neither sure which lines they can cross. They search for words to fill the muggy air, but come up with only a thousand ways to fail at small talk. There's plenty to be said, but Castle isn't going to bring it up on his own, and Kate's not going to ask.
Slowly, Castle worms his way back into the twelfth, stepping carefully because he's aware that Kate's original pretense of forgiveness runs only deep enough to the point where he can hang around again. There's still a lot of trust left to be rebuilt.
As Kate navigates her way around life with him back, she tries not to think of it—they've gone through this all before. And if Castle stays around long enough, this, too, will become a part of the past.
016 | Believe
Kate runs her hands over the cover of Naked Heat, tracing each bump and depression with her fingers. She's yet to open it; scared of what she'll find of herself hidden within the pages. Even more than that, she's scared of what she won't find.
Things are different—she's acknowledged that now because to ignore it would only make things worse—but she's hoping that not everything has changed. She's doing her best to adapt; there have been apologies and half-explanations that don't tie together because of the one truth that both of them refuse to say, and it's almost enough for Kate to do something rash again—and still, she finds herself holding back.
Kate wants to believe that things will be perfect, but she can't delude herself into thinking that any longer. Even if Nikki Heat has a happy ending—she’s not Nikki. She has to find her own way out of this mess.
Problem is, she’s so far in that Kate doesn’t have a clue where to start.
017 | Ex
Her first warning sign is that Castle stops talking—cuts himself off, in fact, in the middle of a sentence.
Kate raises her eyes from the paperwork that had only been entertaining about half of her attention to see none other than Will Sorenson striding through the precinct toward her desk.
She sets aside her pen. “Will!” she exclaims, almost rising to give him a hug before she remembers: no, that part of us is gone now, has been for a long time. “I didn't know you were back in town.”
He nods. “Just for a short while. I thought I'd drop by and visit you. Can I tempt you into having dinner with me?”
It does sound like a good idea, to have dinner and a chance to catch up with Will. Otherwise, it's takeaway and a night home alone.
"Sure," she says. “Pick me up here at six?” and he nods, then takes his leave.
Castle doesn't start talking again until awhile after Will's left, and even then his words are stilted. Kate wants to tell him that is nothing like he’s imagining; that she's done with Will now; that the two of them are only friends. She’s still looking for the courage and the words to say it when he walks out of the precinct early citing plans with Alexis—but the way his shoulders are slightly bowed tells a different story indeed.
018 | Chocolate
He buys her chocolate on Valentine's Day.
Of course he does; nowadays, Castle never misses a chance to be nice to her. As she picks up the box, part of her wonders if he's playing a joke on her, part of her wonders if he's ever going to be able to treat her like she’s special without there being some sort of an excuse involved, and most of her thinks about the fact that she really likes chocolate, especially the expensive kind that he’s bought her.
She thanks him, careful to not go overboard in case he doesn’t mean anything by it; he cracks a joke about how he thought she’d like the chocolate better than flowers. Kate smiles politely. This isn’t a joke, then, but neither are there any clues that he feels anything special for her. This is why she hated Valentine’s Day when she was younger.
That night, as she's sinking her teeth into the most delicious truffle she's ever eaten, Kate thinks that maybe she's being too hasty to judge—maybe this time, Castle is just trying to do things right.
019 | Sorrow
Kate Beckett is a detective all the way through, and with that comes a certain nosiness. Most of the time, she conceals it, but as the years pass and she realizes she still knows next to nothing about Castle, she begins to ask him questions. Small ones, at first, that lead into bigger ones. Most of them, he answers.
Then one day, she asks him about his father—she asks him because it's a subject he always shies away from, and she's sure it'd be more helpful for him to just talk about it. But when he looks at her, his eyes are filled with such sorrow that she feels bad for ever letting the words leave her mouth. And she understands: he’s still not ready to say.
Kate knows that Castle pretends to be loud and carefree—and maybe the loud is less of a pretense, but it still fits well with his act—and she wonders what he's hiding behind it all. If she's been guilty of hiding in her work, Castle's practically remade himself through his. If she didn’t know so much on the subject herself, she’d wonder what sort of heartbreak could do that to a person—as it is, she wants to know how to make it better.
020 | Family
She's used to spending the anniversary of her mother's death alone. Staying late to work on a case (her mother's) and then grabbing take-out on her way home. Watching TV or a movie or doing something else to distract herself from the pangs she still feels until she's so tired she can barely think.
It's what she's always done, and Kate doesn't expect this year to be any different.
Which is of course why she finds herself heading over to Castle's place for a gourmet dinner that Alexis learned to make in school and a night of poker and small talk.
Nobody says anything about it being a special occasion, but it's clear they all know from the way they're nice to her—nicer than usual to her. Castle keeps on his best behavior and doesn’t say anything inappropriate, and Alexis regales them with tales of high school, and Martha laughs as she recounts nights spent in the glory of Broadway. Kate hardly has time to think about her mother because of it. Castle doesn’t say anything about it the next day, but the message is clear—he, Alexis, and Martha are her family now.
021 | Kiss
It happens by chance, if such a thing is possible when everyone (Kate) has been waiting for it for years, but she refuses to call it anything else (except Castle’s fault).
It's probably because she doesn't know how else to say it—it'd been a hard week for her already, and then there was a case eerily like that of her mother’s, again, and then Ryan and Esposito got into a fight, and then Lanie came down with the flu, and then she'd tripped up the fucking stars because the elevator was broken, and then—well, Kate Beckett doesn't cry, but she definitely would have if she did (or if Castle hadn't shown up at that moment).
But then Castle had been there, and apparently part (most (all)) of what she was thinking was showing on her face, because he didn't even think about it, just gathered her into a hug, and when she'd looked up to thank him, he kissed her, and it had been so damn long for her that Kate couldn't think of one reason to stop, and—
Chance, all of it. That's the only thing she has to say.