Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night we met

He wasn't an A-lister. Not even close.

He knew that, he wasn't delusional. Especially when he shared a city with the likes of DiCaprio, Baldwin... Beyoncé.

But in a time when A-listers were actively hiding themselves from paparazzi the people who sat a little lower on these lists, the people like best-selling novelist Richard Castle, were finding themselves on the receiving end of this unwanted attention more often. Still only a fraction of the harassment some endured but after only a few months he was beginning to dread the spotlight he once was so fond of.

His day had been hectic, to say the least. The publicity tour for his latest release had only started three days ago and he had already done two radio interviews, three book store signings and a talk-show appearance. His publicist had him working overtime on this one, cashing in on the recent mystery bug that seemed to be sweeping that nation. His books were in high demand at the moment and, as a result, apparently so was he.

He had been out to dinner with his daughter: a much needed catch up after two busy and conflicting schedules had kept them apart for most of the week. But photographers had staked out the restaurant waiting for the perfect father/daughter shot to sell to the tabloids, and the last thing he wanted was for pictures of his adolescent daughter to be published in magazines and posted on the internet.

Dinner ended and, while he exited the restaurant via the front door, he had arranged for his daughter to be escorted out the back entrance and taken home by a trusted chauffeur.

Just a few steps out the door, his phone rang.

"Are you okay?" he quietly directed the question down the phone line as he walked purposefully down the street, ignoring the small crowd of people who had ruined his dinner plans.

"Yeah, Gregory is turning out of the alley right now," his daughter informed him.

As she did, a black town car pulled out from the alley beside the restaurant. He waved as it passed.

"I'll see you in the morning, okay? I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

He hung up the phone and stuffed it into his pocket, continuing to ignore the bursts of light that were following his journey home.

He ducked into Illusions purely to seek refuge from this unwanted attention. This wasn't his usual scene: he was more country club than nightclub. In fact, outside of publicity events and launch parties, he hadn't stepped foot in a nightclub since before his daughter was born. However, after the long day he'd had, he figured indulging in a drink or two couldn't hurt.

He leant against the bar, ignoring the fact that his jacket seemed to stick to it. So, he might possibly ruin a Hugo Boss, who cared? He was determined to blend in, go unnoticed.

"What can I get you?" the bartender called out over the deep baseline of the music.

"Whiskey, neat."

He smiled at the petite brunette as she reached for a clean glass.

"Joe still own this place?" he asked as she poured the whiskey.

"You know Joe?" she questioned, not bothering to break her focus from her pour.

Yeah, he knew Joe, the cheap bastard.

Joe Bellario was notorious for skimming money from his tills, withholding tips from his staff, anything he could to pocket a little extra change for himself.

"Joe and I go way back," he told her.

She placed his whiskey on bar.

"I'll be paying with cash tonight," he said as he placed a twenty next to his drink. "I don't want the change."

"Thank you, sir." She smiled and rung up his drink before slipping the change into her apron pocket.

He lifted his drink to her. "Salute."

The golden liquid burned as he swallowed it, but in a familiar and oddly comforting way. His own liquor cabinet might be stocked with Glenfiddich and Macallan, but this was the slightly tangy taste that fuelled some of his best - and worst - college memories.

Just as he was losing himself on a trip down memory lane, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Ricky!"

His entire body tensed at the unmistakable sound of his ex-wife's voice. He closed his eyes as if he could will himself to evaporate into thin air. Unfortunately, when he opened his eyes again, he was still there.

The bartender smirked knowingly before moving along to serve other patrons.

He donned his best poker face before turning around.

"Meredith?"

"Fancy running into you here!" she sung cheerfully as she threw her arms out to him.

Just my luck, he thought as he stepped into her embrace.

He hadn't even known she was back in the city. The last he had heard, she had landed a role in some abstract project and was staying in LA. If their daughter had known her mother was back in town, she hadn't mentioned it. Quickly, he buried the anger that was sparked by the likely scenario that their daughter didn't know her mother was in town: he needed to believe that wasn't the case.

He pulled himself from her arms and hoped for this interaction to be as brief as possible.

"Mister big shot, now!" she joked as she poked her finger into his bicep. "I see your face everywhere."

She was trying to play it off as playful commentary - congratulatory, even - but he heard it: the jealousy behind her words. She craved the spotlight even more than he once did. He knew it must be killing her to see his picture popping up in magazines. Her magazines.

"You should totally come sit with us!" she declared.

He opened his mouth to protest, but he knew he wasn't actually being given a choice. She linked her arm through his and led him toward a private booth in the corner of the club. A small group of people were already gathered there.

He recognised one face - Nathaniel Miller, Meredith's long-time best friend.

She sat in the booth, pulling him down beside her. His drink sloshed, spilling over the edge of the glass and onto his pants. He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

This was his night now. Meredith had a way of... of sinking her claws into him. Whatever she wanted, he would inevitably do. It had been that way since the day they met (almost twenty years ago, now). Their dynamic was forged by his naïve love: his younger-self being too eager to please, too desperate for her to reciprocate. He had set a high standard - one that neither of them could uphold - and to this day he still wasn't able to fully break that bond. Even without the life they had created together, he felt as though they might be tied to one another forever.

One day he would be able to cut that cord, he hoped.

"Nate, baby," Meredith beckoned her friend's attention across the small table that centred the booth. "You remember Ricky, don't you?"

Nathaniel reached across the table and shook Rick's hand. Rick had no doubt that the man remembered him. Nathaniel had never been a fan of his, and Meredith was well aware of that fact.

She was probably enjoying this: some sick part of her relishing in the fact that both men would sit, silently suffering, knowing that they wouldn't say anything, that they wouldn't want to risk upsetting her.

She didn't bother introducing him to anyone else, not that he cared. Her friends were all like her and one Meredith in his life was more than enough.

The group returned to conversing - as if he wasn't even there - and he opted to spend his time people-watching to spare himself from having to pretend to listen to the insufferable stories of how wonderful life as a Meredith groupie was.

His attention drifted from group to group, studying. The wallflowers that stood; waiting. The socialites that gravitated toward each other; deep in conversation. The melomaniacs that lost themselves; immersed in the sounds.

His focus moved to the dance floor. Laser lights beamed an assortment of colour across the crowd of dancers as they moved to the music.

Before long, a woman in the very centre of the dancefloor caught his eye, her every move simply demanding attention.

She was beautiful - deep, golden brown skin bedazzled by glitter, red dress clinging to the curves of her body, dark curls bouncing at her shoulders as she danced - so lost in herself and in the music to care about anything else. She looked like she was genuinely having fun, living in the moment: something he was notably lacking in this moment.

He continued to watch the woman as she held her hands out, theatrically singing the lyrics of the song that boomed through the speakers to someone who was hidden among the crowd. Hands reached out, fingers intertwined with hers and she pulled her friend closer to her.

Her friend was tall - possibly even taller than he was, he couldn't quite tell - with legs like skyscrapers. The sequinned detailing of her dark-coloured dress caught the light and each movement she made had her shining like a mirror ball. The woman turned in his direction, gifting him with an unobstructed view as she combed her fingers through her hair, brushing it back off her face.

The way she moved, the way she held herself: she was ethereal. Elegance and beauty in human form.

The woman in the red dress stepped closer and whispered something in her friend's ear. The unfiltered joy that brightened her smile and projected from her was captivating; he couldn't look away.

Dark eyes locked onto his and his heart skipped a beat.

The brief second seemed to last forever, like time had slowed as the stranger studied him. Logic told him he should look away, show some inkling of shame having been caught staring, but his eyes stayed locked on hers.

Infatuated.

Chapter Text

Her attention was stolen away entirely too soon, leaving him wanting more.

Wanting her: to know her, to talk to her, to know if their small moment - the lightning strike that had his heart pounding in his chest - had affected her so drastically, too.

He was sure it hadn't, though. She had moved on without so much as a glance back in his general direction. He knew that because he hadn't yet managed to peel his eyes from her. He watched as she and her friend fell back into their own world; singing, dancing and laughing as if they were the only two people in this club. Just like he was, they were so unreservedly entranced in one another, in the moment, that they were completely unaware of the chokehold they had on this writer's imagination.

They embraced one another, as good friends do. Their touches were intimate and familiar, but not in a romantic way. He wondered how long they had known each other. Were they childhood friends? Had they grown up together, faced the ups and downs of the teenage years together and navigated the trials and tribulations of life with the other by their side? Perhaps they were colleagues that had bonded over their mutual love for whatever field they were worked in? As time went by, were they pleasantly surprised to find they had more in common? Were they taken aback by just how deep their bond had rooted itself, or was it a slow-forming friendship where each milestone was felt and cherished, not just in hindsight?

He was pulled from his people-watching trance by the erupting laughter from his booth. He looked around at Meredith and her friends, laughing like a gaggle of geese at some undoubtedly not-funny remark - most likely at his expense - and forced a smile.

Meredith brought her hand up to his face and ran her perfectly manicured fingernails through the short hairs behind his ear.

"Nate was just saying you look a little... tired," she said.

He had no doubt that Nathaniel's actual comment was far less gentle, but he wouldn't bite back, wouldn't give the man the satisfaction.

He looked at the almost-empty glasses on the table in front of him, seeing his chance to excuse himself.

"Next round is on me," he announced with a smile before taking his leave.

As he walked to the bar, he looked over his shoulder just in time to see the woman in the black dress leading her friend away from the dancefloor. Even as they walked, they continued to sing and shimmy and laugh. He turned, quickly glancing at Meredith and her posse before joining the queue at the bar, and thought to himself that he would much rather be on the other side of the club with people he didn't even know than continue to be an involuntary tag-along with his ex-wife and her daft friends.

"And, he's back!" the bartender cheered, gaining Rick's attention. "Ricky, was it?"

She smiled; an almost laugh. He knew that she was flirting - eager for more generous tips, he was sure - but he wouldn't flirt back. The woman was far too young to even entertain the idea; almost half his age, most likely in her early twenties.

"Hey now, only the people stupid enough to marry me can call me Ricky," he joked.

The bartenders expression shifted to that of shock: eyebrows lifted, mouth agape. "That's your wife?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "Dude, with the way your entire body cringed at the sound of her voice, I thought you hated her!"

Rick grimaced. Perhaps his reaction had been a little harsh, but it was completely involuntary.

"Ex-wife," he explained, and the bartender seemed to accept it as reasonable; nodding slightly as she wiped spilt drinks from the bar top. "But I don't hate her."

He reflected on that statement for a moment. No, he could never hate her, but he didn't exactly like her. He couldn't, not after she broke his heart and betrayed his trust. He loved her like family. She was his family. But he didn't think he could ever like her again.

"I do hate her friends, though," he added for good measure. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, before this turns into a therapy session: can I please have two bottles of Moët sent to our booth?"

He pointed to the booth for clarification and the bartender began to ring up the order.

"I was also wondering if I'd be able to have a drink sent over to the booth behind me, too?"

The bartender peeked around him and scanned the room.

"Red dress or black?" she asked with a smile.

"Black."

She tapped on the screen of the register. "That booth is a private event with table service so I can't see what she's been drinking, sorry."

"An old fashioned," he answered confidently. "You can't go wrong with an old fashioned."

She agreed and finished ringing up his order.

He handed over a small wad of cash for payment.

"It's yours, remember?" he reminded her when she went to pass his change to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Just don't rat me out to the boss man."

"Thank you, sir." She smiled and tucked the cash into her apron pocket.

Sir... that made him feel a hundred years old.

"I'll have Kayla bring over those drinks for you."

Kayla, he assumed, came out from behind the bar carrying the bottles of wine and some clean flutes. He led her back to the booth.

"I thought you had run away!" Meredith, obviously starting to feel the effects of the alcohol she had consumed, shouted over the music.

"I didn't realise that was an option," he snarked, taking his seat beside her again.

He wasn't sure if she didn't pick up on the sarcasm, or just didn't care, but she laughed and rested her head on his shoulder for a moment.

Once she went back to her chatter, he went back to people watching, trying not to linger too long on the one particular booth. When he did happen to glance back her way, he caught her eye.

She was even more beautiful than he had thought, offering him a coy smile before sipping from the drink he had gifted her.

He had hoped she would approach him, but she didn't, and he wasn't about to make a fool of himself by pursuing a woman who clearly wasn't interested in being pursued.

He continued on with his night, begrudgingly. Many times, he told himself he should just leave - he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be with Meredith and her posse - but the thought of leaving this mystery woman, knowing he would more than likely never see her again, somehow seemed worse than the hours he was spending in poor company.

His patience paid off, however, when - just as he was readying himself to call it a night - he spotted her alone at the bar.

Seizing the moment, he approached her. He didn't have a plan, had no idea what to say, he just knew he couldn't let this moment pass without... trying.

I've been watching you all night...

No! God, no!

That was a sure-fire way to have her running for the hills.

Do you come here often?

Somehow, being so cliché felt even worse. He took a deep breath and tried to shake off the nerves: it wasn't like him.

With just a few more steps he stood beside her, close enough to gain her attention without invading her personal space.

He paused, waited a beat before speaking, but before any words could come out, she spoke.

"You know, it's super creepy: waiting for me to be alone before approaching me?"

He stuttered, eager to defend himself. "I-I wasn't waiting for you to be alone!"

She looked toward him and raised an eyebrow; calling his bluff.

"Okay, maybe I was," he admitted. "But, I promise I didn't mean to be creepy about it."

She smiled and let out a small chuckle. She, apparently, found his nerves amusing.

"You should buy me a drink," she said, an indication that she was open to him staying and conversing.

"I already did."

"And whatever it was, I really enjoyed it."

"Whatever it was?" he asked, shocked. "You've never had an old fashioned before?"

With the information she needed, she leant on the bar and garnered the bartender's attention.

"Old fashioned please," she ordered with a smile.

"Make that two," Rick added. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and handed over a few folded notes.

As discussed, the bartender rang up the order and tucked the change into her apron pocket.

"Think you just lost your change," the woman who had held Rick's attention all night informed him with a slight scowl.

The crease between her brows became more defined as she watched the bartender begin to pour the drinks.

"We, uh, have an arrangement," he informed her.

The woman peeled her eyes away from the bartender and searched his face for further explanation.

"An arrangement?" she questioned. "You realise that doesn't reassure me, right?"

She chuckled slightly as she turned toward him, her eyes drifting down his body; studying him, sizing him up.

"A stranger slipping cash to the person making your drinks? You should be cautious."

He groaned internally as the words came from his mouth. He used to be good at this. Now, apparently, he was the creepy guy who kept his foot firmly in his mouth.

The bartender placed the two freshly made drinks in front of them and he could see that she was hesitant to take it.

"The owner of the club keeps a large percentage of the tips," he explained. "I pay cash so that the bartenders can pocket my change instead of losing all their tips."

"Oh." She visibly relaxed as she processed his explanation. She gripped the glass and slid it closer. "That's actually quite nice of you."

"I'm actually quite a nice person. You know, when I'm not totally putting my foot in it," he joked.

She smiled wide, the flashing lights dancing in the whites of her eyes as she swapped the two drinks.

To reassure her, he ceremoniously picked up the drink she had placed in front of him.

"Cheers." With a smile, he took a long sip.

When he placed the half-empty glass back down on the bar, she smiled mischievously and swapped the drinks back again.

"Thanks," she said with an air of victory in her voice, then sipped.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Kate."

"Kate," he repeated.

He liked the way that sounded. Kate...

"I'm-"

"Ricky," Meredith sung out as she approached from behind him. Again.

He closed his eyes and hung his head, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Ricky?" Kate echoed the nickname with obvious amusement.

"Forgive me," he said, making no attempt to hide the frustration that seeped through his words.

He turned toward Meredith, hoping to run interference and keep Kate hidden from his ex-wife.

"We're going now," Meredith informed him with a smile.

He couldn't quite tell if she expected him to leave with her, or if she was simply just letting him know.

"Okay," he replied. "Have fun."

Meredith's face morphed from deceivingly angelic to slightly annoyed. "You're not going to come with?"

Her eyes narrowed as she leant to the side, peering over his shoulder.

His attempt at hiding Kate with the breadth of his body had, unfortunately, failed.

"I'm Kate," she introduced herself sweetly, with a smile so dazzling it looked like it belonged in a dental brochure.

She extended her hand and waited for the red-head to take it.

More than what he had been offered. He tried to force down that petty thought.

"Seriously?" Meredith looked back to him with a frown. "Isn't she a little... mass market?"

"There's no need to be rude, Meredith," he said through clenched teeth.

"We're going to Masquerade," she told him, as if their next destination would make him more likely to join them.

"I'm fine here, thank you."

Kate moved her hand to his forearm, bringing his attention back to her.

"You can join my friends and I, if you'd like?" she offered, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

If he didn't know better he would think that she was... flirting?

He ignored Meredith's unimpressed scoff and instead watched the amused twinkle in Kate's eyes grow brighter as she revelled in Meredith's undisguised jealousy.

He was torn between finding it incredibly hot or a major red flag.

Kate was confident, it oozed from her, and he liked that.

"Rick," Meredith drew out his name, pleading with him.

He moved his attention back to his ex-wife, meeting the all-too-familiar warning eyes he'd grown acquainted with over their short marriage. Before he had the chance to cave, however, an excited gasp erupted from beside him, gaining the attention of both he and Meredith.

"I love this song!" Kate exclaimed. "Dance with me?"

She picked up her drink and gulped the little bit that remained before grabbing his hand.

He picked up his own barely-touched glass and passed it to Meredith.

"Drink's on me! Have fun at Masquerade," he called as he allowed himself to be dragged away.

He turned back to the woman beckoning his attention with the seductive sway of her hips as they moved further onto the dance floor.

Kate ran her hands through her hair - as she had done earlier in the night - but this time her smile was replaced with the gentle tug of her bottom lip between her teeth.

She knew exactly what she was doing, and she did it well. Slowly inching closer to him, she placed her hand on his hip; her gentle touch was the encouragement he needed to move with her. He hadn't even realised he was standing there, still and stunned, looking entirely out of place among the dancers that surrounded them.

Emboldened by her smile, he reached out, daring to touch her.

He would have settled for a simple handshake - so desperate for that same touch Meredith had so flippantly rejected - but here they stood, her hands on him, bodies brushing as they swayed discordantly. His palm pressed to her waist, settling comfortably as they began to find their rhythm and their movements slowly harmonised.

"That's better," she said as her fingers trailed across his chest. "Good to see you relax a little."

She looked up at him through thick, black lashes; a sly smile curling the corners of her mouth.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat feeling like it was trying to climb up into his throat.

She slung her arms casually over his shoulders, crossing her wrists behind his head. Gradually, their sway had slowed; not at all in time with the upbeat music that played but he couldn't care less. A beautiful woman - one who had captured his attention the moment he laid eyes on her - was in his arms, looking up at him with a smile so sweet he could almost feel the cavity slowly developing. She would have a lasting effect on him, of that he was sure.

"So-" She tilted her head and curiosity sparked in her eyes. "Who exactly is Meredith?"

There was no malice in the way she spoke his ex-wife's name, no animosity or hostility. But he could tell that there was something there, something hidden behind the misleading amusement in her tone.

Offence, maybe? She wouldn't be the first person to be offput by Meredith's... well, Meredith.

For the first time, Meredith's unabashed sense of entitlement and self-importance had worked in his favour, though: catapulting him through his uncharacteristically awkward first impression and right into this moment. To say he was grateful would be an understatement.

"Ex-girlfriend?" she asked, an attempt to push him through his silent thought.

"Ex-" He hesitated, contemplated the lie.

Kate didn't know him; she didn't actually care and he wasn't egotistical enough to assume their interactions would extend any further than this dance. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to lie to her.

"Ex-wife," he confessed with a sigh.

His hands gripped at her waist without his permission: a subconscious attempt to keep her near, he supposed.

Her smile faltered and she nodded slowly. "Right."

He held his breath and waited for her to walk away. A high-maintenance past that refuses to stay in the past? No one needs that baggage.

Her hands slowly dragged down his shoulders, dropping to her sides as she pulled back, and his heart sank back into it's rightful position, carefully guarded by his ribcage and encased in his disappointment.

Chapter Text

"I don't want to go," she groaned as Lanie grabbed her wrists and pulled her from where she had cocooned herself on the couch. "You can't make me."

"Okay, first of all: I can make you and I will if I have to," her friend warned as she led her to the bedroom. "And you already promised Karpowski you would go. Please don't make me have to go to this alone."

"You won't be alone," Kate snarked as she plopped down onto the end of Lanie's bed. "Espo will be there."

"No. We are going together; you and I. We are going to drink, we are going to dance, and we are not going to think about boys."

Lanie pulled open the doors of her wardrobe and began sorting through in search of a dress.

"Yeah, until the end of the night when you get to go home with your boy and I get to come back here - alone - to sleep on your couch," Kate grumbled.

Lanie sighed and turned back to face her friend.

"Okay, I get it: you're heartbroken, but I'm really trying to make the best out of this situation. It's been over a week and all you've done is work and wallow."

"We were together for over a year, Lanie. We lived together and made plans for a future... together. And then he just decides to go back to his ex? I think I've earned a week to wallow."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Lanie walked to her bed and took a seat beside Kate, placing her hand on her friend's thigh. "But you promised a colleague that you celebrate her birthday with her. An hour of your time, that is all I'm asking for. It's Illusions: we've been waiting for this for weeks now!"

Kate sighed and rolled her eyes. They had been looking forward to this night out and she did hate the idea of missing out on a good time because she was too busy crying over someone she had already decided didn't deserve her tears (apparently her brain didn't pass the memo along to her heart).

"You never know," Lanie added with a grin. "You might even enjoy getting out for a little bit."

"Fine. But you can't force me to have fun, no matter how hard you try."

Lanie practically leapt into her lap as she wrapped her arms around Kate's shoulders and squeezed. "You won't regret it, I promise!"

She hated that Lanie had been right: a cute dress, styled hair and her signature smoky-eye had her feeling more herself than she had in weeks.

Add a room full of her friends and closest colleagues (that were all just thrilled to see her out and about again) and Lanie's persistent 'hype-girl' demeanour, the night had started off much better than she had anticipated.

They drank, they danced, and they really had tried their best to not think about boys! However, with just enough alcohol flowing through her veins and the deep baseline of the music reverberating through her chest the tall, handsome stranger that had caught her attention from across the crowded room was a temptation she just couldn't resist.

"You know what they say," Lanie said as Kate sipped from the drink he had gifted her. "The best way to get over someone is to-"

"Oh, my God!" She laughed and sat up straighter in the booth, placing her fingertip to her intoxicated friend's lips. "I am begging you, Lanie, please do not finish that thought!"

"Okay, okay! I won't," Lanie promised as Kate dropped her hand back to her lap. "But you know I'm right."

Kate rolled her eyes. "I'm really not looking for another relationship right now."

"Slow down, girl! I didn't say you have to marry the guy! It'll be like that movie you like."

"Movie?" Kate braced herself; if Lanie was starting to compare real life to movies, this really could be headed anywhere.

"You know? The one where they meet and they have a really great night together but they don't exchange any actual details about themselves so that they can't find one another," Lanie explained, poorly. "They're left with nothing but fond memories of that great night and nothing ruins it."

Kate shook her head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You do! You love that movie! They eat dessert together."

"Are you talking about Serendipity?"

Lanie waved her hand around excitedly. "Yes, that's it!"

"You've never actually seen that movie, have you?"

Her friend shook her head, no. "That's not the point, though. The point is that you are too hot to not be flirting with cute guys at the bar."

Lanie turned to Esposito, who was sitting on her other side, and placed her hand over his to gain his attention.

"What's up?" he asked when he turned his attention to her.

"Can you please tell Kate that she is beautiful and could have any guy she wanted."

Kate's jaw dropped. "Oh God, you really don't have to do that."

"Look, if you're not going to let Mr Expensive Suit over there remind you that you are a desirable woman, I'll just make Javi do it."

Esposito's eyes darted to Kate's, almost pleading with her.

"No, it's fine," she surrendered. "I'll go!"

It had taken every little ounce of confidence she could muster to get this far. She took solace in the fact that he seemed just as out of practice as she was, though.

She was pleasantly surprised by how quickly the feeling of being out of her comfort zone faded, though.

As they swayed together on the dancefloor they fell into an easy rhythm, moving to a beat that was entirely their own.

This stranger felt... safe. And she couldn't understand why.

Determined to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling inside - the one that (if she tried hard enough) she could pretend was the alcohol coursing through her veins - she allowed her curiosity to lead the way.

"So... Who exactly is Meredith?"

She didn't really have to ask, though. It seemed obvious. The familiarity, the expectation, the slinging of completely unwarranted insults: Meredith was a lover.

Past relationship, present fling or future possibility; that was yet to be determined.

"Ex-girlfriend?" she pried, when he remained silent for just a moment too long.

"Ex-" He sighed. "Ex-wife."

She felt the almost-imperceptible shift in his touch; the way his hands at her waist seemed to hold her just that little bit closer, but even that couldn't reassure her.

Her confidence crumbled.

And then he just decides to go back to his ex?

"Right."

The word seemed to tumble out of her mouth of it's own accord and her hands dropped to her sides.

Why did she seem to be a magnet for guys who just couldn't quit their exes?

Something deep inside was telling her to run, to cut her losses before this went too far: it wasn't worth it.

Yet, she was drawn to him.

As his piercing blue eyes searched hers, he made no attempt to hide the disappointment the newfound space between their bodies had incited. Disappointment she felt compelled to remedy.

The intensity of his gaze sent a chill down her spine that battled with the heat of his palms still pressed to her hips. She leant inward slightly and rested her hand on his bicep.

It's not like she was looking to get attached, anyway, right? Tonight would be a distraction, nothing more. An opportunity to pretend, just for a little while, that her heart wasn't currently in a million tiny little pieces.

She tilted her head and smiled: no, this wasn't over yet.

"She's, like, way out of your league," she joked, forcing the playfulness back into her voice. "Just in case you weren't already aware."

The curve of his lips was instant. "Yeah, well, shoot for the stars, right?"

She glanced over his shoulder, surveying the club for any sign of his ex. Once she was certain the coast was clear, she looked back to him.

"You're safe now," she assured him with a smile. "She's gone."

"Right," he said as his hands slipped from their perch on her waist. "Thank you."

She looked at him confused. "For...?"

"For the dance," he clarified.

"Oh, yeah. You're welcome. It was the least I could do, really. You buy me a drink, I save you from a social interaction you obviously didn't want to have. I feel that's a win-win situation."

He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah."

"My offer still stands, though, if you want." She tilted her head toward the booth her friends had gathered around. "You're more than welcome to join us."

He looked over to the booth, and considered the offer.

"Don't want to crash your party," he excused.

She could tell he was just trying not to sound too eager.

"It was a colleague's birthday drinks, but she's gone now. Most of the guests are, so you wouldn't really be crashing anything." She waited a beat before continuing. "Come on, it'll be worth your while, I promise."

She grabbed his hand, intertwining her fingers through his as she led him over to the booth.

As they approached, four sets of eyes studied him.

"These are my friends," she started, dropping his hand so that she could motion to each of her friends as she introduced them. "Lanie, Espo, Ryan and his beautiful fiancé, Jenny."

He smiled to each of them. "Nice to meet you all."

"This is-" She paused, her smile beaming as she turned to face him. "Ricky."

His eyes locked to hers and she knew he wanted to protest, but he simply smiled and shook his head before turning his attention to her friends.

"Uh, you can just call me Rick," he said to them.

She slipped into the booth beside Lanie and tapped her hand to the space beside her, inviting him to settle in.

"So, Rick, are you here alone?" Jenny asked as she looked around the club for a group he may have strayed from.

"I was," he answered once her attention was back to him. "I had dinner at the little Italian place just down the road and stopped in for a drink but I ran into... an old friend-" He locked eyes with Kate and smiled. "So I've been here way longer than intended but it's looking like that might be a good thing."

"Laying it on thick," Kate mumbled, just for him.

"Like I said: shoot for the stars."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile forming. With the shake of her head, she looked away from Rick and re-engaged with the whole group.

"The boys still rambling on about cars?" she asked.

"Yes," Jenny and Lanie groaned in unison.

"You a car enthusiast, Rick?" Jenny asked him.

Kate smiled at Jenny: she appreciated the woman's kindness and how willing she was to welcome the stranger into their tight-knit group.

"Yeah, as much as the next guy, I suppose."

"What do you drive?" Ryan asked him.

"I mean, it's New York City so my everyday is public transport," Rick chuckled.

Ryan looked at him curiously. "You don't own a car?"

"Why not?" Esposito added before Rick could answer.

"Oh, no... I do," Rick corrected. "I own two, actually."

"But you mostly use public transport?" Esposito questioned.

Ryan continued the rapid-fire line of questioning. "Why own two cars if you're not going to drive them?"

"Guys, stop," Kate urged quietly.

Rick held his hands up, feigning surrender. "What is this: an interrogation?" he joked.

"That's an interesting choice of words, Bro," Espo said to him, before turning his attention to Kate. "What'd you flash him your badge out on the dance floor?"

"Wait!" Rick looked at Kate, his jaw slack and eyes wide. "You're a cop?"

"Oh, so now you're interested in what I do?" she questioned.

"Uh, excuse me? I don't recall you asking me what I do," he defended playfully.

"That's-" She sighed. "Fair."

"Yeah, your security team over here seem more interested in getting to know me than you do, just saying."

"Oh, don't be mistaken," she said; her voice low and slow. "I'm plenty interested in getting to know you."

Chapter Text

It was a gradual thing; the way their bodies slowly turned toward one another, unintentionally blocking the rest of the group out.

She could still hear them - just an arms length away - chatting and laughing as they always did, completely unbothered by the fact that she had slipped away into her own little world.

A world that consisted of just her and Rick.

Her thigh was pressed against the length of his, her arm resting - with her palm upturned - across them both. He was telling her a story, of what she wasn't quite sure, because the gentle traipse of his fingertips across her palm and forearm had her mind somewhere else entirely. At some point he had wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. The way his palm moulded to the curve of her hip, the way her frame fit snugly against his side, the way she was actually allowing herself to feel safe and secure in his arms had her stomach flipping at a nauseating rate.

There was something about this man that had pulled her in.

One night, no strings.

He was ruining her plan.

His voice - a low, almost-tired rumble - pulled her from her thoughts.

"I, unfortunately, should be heading home," he said regretfully.

She bit her tongue to stop it from spewing her unfiltered thoughts, to silence the protests that begged to be voiced.

The smile on his face (one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and set flight to a million butterflies in her stomach) told her she didn't need to voice those protests, that they were written all over her face.

"I have a meeting in the morning," he explained as he looked down at his watch.

He sighed, his disappointment as evident as hers must have been. But she knew this night - as much as she had enjoyed it - couldn't last forever.

"I was hoping that maybe I could get your number before I left?"

Her heart skipped a beat as it argued with her brain.

That's not the plan!

"Y-you want my number?" she asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah?" he assured her.

She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was confused by her scepticism and, to be honest, she was a little confused too.

Only for the briefest moment, though.

Her ex: Adam. Adam Fucking Middleton had taken her perfectly intact, guarded heart, cradled it so delicately in his hands and promised her it was safe. He took it to the top of the Empire State Building and tossed it over the side, watching with a smile as it plummeted twelve hundred feet to the concrete below.

She was lucky that she had Lanie to help her pick up the pieces but knew that she couldn't let anyone else in; it was too much of a risk.

Yet, here was Rick and his charming smile, weaselling his way in.

She wouldn't allow it. She had a plan, remember?

"I've had fun tonight," Rick continued, oblivious to her internal spiral. "I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye just yet."

She shook her head slowly as she tried to find the words, a way to let him down gently.

She had, after all, spent hours with him; drinking, dancing, flirting. It wasn't an unreasonable request to ask for her number.

But her plan didn't involve him wanting to actually get to know her. It didn't involve him having anything to do with her after the night had come to an end. It didn't involve him becoming a part of her life in any way, whatsoever, no siree.

"No," she muttered pathetically.

Just stick to the plan.

His hopeful smile vanished, brow furrowed in confusion but he recovered quickly.

A gentleman: he didn't want to give her the impression that he thought she owed him anything.

But his words echoed in her mind - I don't think I'm ready to say goodbye just yet - because if she was being honest with herself, neither was she.

Her eyes dropped to his lips and before she knew it she was inching closer until her lips brushed delicately against his.

She paused in a moment of uncertainty but as his lips locked to hers any doubts she had dissipated completely.

She pulled back slightly. "I don't want to say goodbye yet, either."

He looked at her, staring so deeply into her eyes she thought that maybe he could see right through her but then his eyes dropped to her hand in his lap. He laced his fingers through hers.

"I have to go," he told her, quietly. "Come with me?"

The silence was palpable as he waited for an answer.

"Okay," she agreed with a smile.

His eyes darkened and a lascivious smile slowly spread across his face.

He lifted his hand slowly, purposefully, and tucked a small section of her hair behind her ear before leaning in until his lips were by her ear.

"Let me make a quick call," he whispered.

His breath skirted along her neck sending a chill down her spine. Goosebumps peppered her skin and every nerve in her body felt alight.

She turned her face toward him, hovering just inches away, and nodded.

"I'll be back in just a minute," he promised.

It wasn't until he stood and walked away that she remembered to exhale.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, silently scolding herself. Her heart was pounding and anticipation had coiled in her stomach like a tightly wound spring ready to burst. Against her better judgement, she was letting him in... but right now, she couldn't care less.

She could feel eyes on her and she forced the smile from her face as she turned to face her friends. They sat, watching, with amusement plastered on their faces.

"So, I'm going to head off now," she said as casually as she could, but she was fighting a losing battle against the cheerful curve of her lips.

She just hoped her cheeks weren't as flushed as they felt.

"You're not supposed to get attached," Lanie reminded her, her tone warning.

"I'm not," Kate lied.

His mother and daughter were obviously the furthest thing from his mind. That was, until he opened his mouth and invited Kate back to his place.

Thankfully, he had always been fairly quick on his feet.

After his mother had to move in with them, he was in need of a place he could go when he needed to just... get away. He had become a regular guest at The Morgan-Byrd Hotel in the (almost) four years since, and had built quite the rapport with the concierge team there.

As if fate were on his side, they'd had a cancellation earlier on this evening and had a last-minute room available for him.

"Thanks, Simon. I owe you one."

He ended the call and typed out a quick message to Gregory asking him to meet him out front, before heading back to the table.

The group was gearing up to leave, pairing off to head home for the night; Ryan and Jenny to the comfort of their home, Lanie and Esposito to (Rick assumed) whoever's apartment was closest. As they all walked toward the exit, Kate huddled against his side and he wrapped his arm around her.

"This is us," he said as he spied Gregory pull up right out front.

He let go of Kate and rushed the few steps ahead to open the door for her. With his hand on her lower back, he guided her into the vehicle.

His entire body tensed as he saw a flash of light in his periphery, but Kate didn't seem to notice.

She looked at him and smiled her thanks before lowering herself and sliding along the seat to make room for him.

They were no more than a block from the nightclub before her leg started bouncing restlessly and she began toying with the hem of her dress.

"You okay?" he asked as he placed his hand over hers.

"Fine," she said definitively, but the rapid bounce of her leg didn't ease in any way.

"You sure?"

"I just- I don't usually do this," she admitted.

He arched a brow. "Make new friends?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but he saw the smile on her face.

He watched for a moment as she stared out the window, the glow of city lights illuminating her face as they drove by.

"There's no expectations here," he assured her. "Just say the word and I'll take you home."

Her restless leg came to a halt and she turned to face him, offering a soft smile. "Not yet."

He opened the car door for her and held out his hand. She took it, gratefully, as she stepped out.

Walking hand-in-hand, they entered the building.

"Mr Castle," Simon called as he crossed the lobby.

Rick heard Kate echo his surname, as if to burn it to her memory, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Simon, my man!" he cheered.

He dropped Kate's hand and paced forward, clapping Simon on the shoulder once he was within reach.

"No need to check in, I've got that all sorted for you," the concierge informed Rick. "You'll be in the penthouse tonight, I hope that is alright. I've set everything up for you. Check-out by no later than 11am."

"Not a problem. Thank you so much, Simon."

He pulled the tip he had prepared from the breast pocket of his jacket and passed it to Simon, then turned his attention back to Kate.

"Shall we?"

He wrapped his arm around her and guided her toward the elevator.

They stepped inside the carriage and he pressed the button for the 28th floor. As soon as the doors closed and they were alone she reached up and cupped his face, pulling him closer. Her lips locked to his and his hands fell instinctively to her waist, holding her body to his. He moved fast, knowing they didn't have much time before they'd arrive on their floor, and pushed her back against the carriage wall.

A moan escaped her as his tongue traced along her bottom lip and a chill rushed down his spine. He had to pull back before he passed the point of no return and things got too heated right there in the elevator.

But the lust that burned brightly in her eyes told him that this would be a night he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

The doors opened and they stepped out with a newfound sense of urgency. He led her down the hallway to the private elevator that took them up one more level, directly into the open-concept living area of the penthouse.

They both looked around, awed by the grandiosity of the suite. Sure, he had stayed here before - but never in the penthouse. It's sleek, modern styling felt fresh and bright, but there was still a timelessness to it that felt comforting and intimate.

As she continued to explore the new environment, he headed to the kitchen.

"Want something to drink?" he called out to her.

She looked back over her shoulder. "Uh, just water, please."

He opened the refrigerator to find it fully stocked with the essentials - champagne, fresh fruits and other breakfast necessities - as he had requested, and he made a mental note to leave Simon a larger tip in the morning: he had earned it, going above and beyond to make sure everything was perfect.

He grabbed two bottles of water and headed back to the main living area.

"Thanks," she said with a smile when he handed her the bottle.

As she went back to browsing the shelves, he moved across to the couch and sunk down into the luxuriously soft cushions. He watched as her finger traced the spines of the books that lined the shelves, as her eyes scanned the décor and artwork.

"This place is beautiful," she mused aloud.

She took a sip from her water bottle before placing it on the shelf and moving over to a small media console. She pressed a few buttons and soft music began to play. The unmistakeable, satiny saxophone riff of Careless Whisper filled the air.

She smirked and bit down on her thumb nail to repress an amused chuckle.

"Mood music?" she said as she looked over her shoulder at him.

"I believe they call it easy listening," he corrected.

She walked across the room, slowly closing the distance between them. His eyes roamed up and down her body, taking in every detail now that they were in a properly lit room. Somehow, she was even more beautiful.

When she stood in front of him, he began to pull himself from the comforting embrace of the couch but she placed her hand on his shoulder to keep him in place. She lowered herself and placed one knee on the couch beside him, hovering above him.

He looked down at her leg, the silky smooth skin of her thigh exposed as her dress began to ride up and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch. He reached out and with slow, languid movements he memorised how her supple skin felt against his.

She placed her index finger under his chin and tilted his face to her before leaning down and kissing him. Her kiss was slow and sensual at first, but gradually grew more passionate and urgent.

He reached for her, guiding her closer until she straddled his lap. His hands roamed indiscriminately, learning every inch of her body as their tongues danced and fought for control.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, taking a moment to catch his breath.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, one last time.

She straightened up, pulling away from him.

"I mean; you did say you don't really do this," he explained. "I just wanted to check in again."

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No!" he blurted. "Definitely not."

"Okay." She smiled. "Me neither."

"Okay. I just-"

"Rick," she interrupted.

She placed her palm on his cheek and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Less talking," she whispered.

He smiled. "Got it," he said before kissing her enthusiastically.

He gripped her hips and held her against him before shifting his weight and switching up their position.

Her back impacted with the cushions of the couch and she gasped, obviously not having expected the sudden change, but his mouth colliding with hers again silenced her instantly. Refocused, she locked her legs around his and leveraged him closer, each rock grinding his body against hers as her hands roamed back.

He travelled from her mouth; lips and tongue kissing, nipping and sucking as he mapped the strong line of her jaw and found the most sensitive spots of her neck.

A low, needy moan slipped from her lips and sent a surge of arousal through his entire body.

He rocked his hips, trying to change the pace but she only slowed down. Each languorous move she made had him trembling, desperate for more.

"Are you going to fight for control the whole time?" he mumbled the question against her lips.

Her hands glided up to his chest and pushed until their lips parted and he hovered above her.

"You really think just because you're on top you're in control?" she questioned.

Her low, sultry voice, the desire in her heavy-lidded eyes and the way she held his full attention with minimal effort had him second guessing that.

She rested her hands on her own chest, lazily tracing her fingertip across her collarbone. He watched as one hand journeyed down the middle of her chest, across her torso and in between their bodies until he felt the tugging on his belt. His eyes shot back up to hers and she smiled so innocently.

No, he wasn't in control. Not even a little bit.

She lifted herself to meet his lips, brushing delicately before she shifted further to whisper in his ear. "I don't submit."

"Never?"

"Never."

He shook his head, absolutely boggled by this revelation. "If I let you take control can I have your phone number?"

"Take control?"

She slipped her hand lower, teasing him, and his abdominal muscles twitched in response.

"Keep control," he corrected. "You're very obviously in control here."

She smiled and leant closer, nipping gently on his lower lip.

"I'll think about it," she purred victoriously. "But first... take me to bed."

He woke early, but not early enough.

She was gone.

Chapter Text

The simple task of unlocking the door seemed near impossible right now. The key slipped long the brass, circling where it needed to slot in, again and again. She was too tired for this and she silently cursed herself for not staying with Rick.

She was warm and felt safe when she was wrapped in his arms, her head on his chest listening to the steady beating of his heart.

But the second he drifted off to sleep, it felt too real.

She didn't know this man. The level of familiarity, comfort and trust she felt when she was with him was... wrong. So very unlike her. After a very short internal battle she had decided it was too much, too fast. So she carefully removed herself from his embrace, got dressed and scrawled her number on the back of the hotel concierge calling card before tucking it into his jacket pocket. She wasn't sure why - insecurity, self sabotage or maybe just a classic case of being an absolute fool - but she pulled the card out and tore it into pieces.

Another thing to silently curse herself for.

The key finally slid into the lock and she pushed her body against the wooden door to open it. She pawed at her dress, desperate to be rid of it, and discarded it on the floor on her fumbling journey to the couch. She grabbed the old t-shirt she'd been sleeping in and pulled it on before flopping down onto the couch and haphazardly pulled the blanket over herself.

She closed her eyes - just for a moment - but when she opened them again the sun was streaming through the window and Lanie was crouched down by her side, wafting the aromas of a fresh cup of coffee her way.

"Morning, sleepy head," her friend greeted softly.

She propped herself up on her elbow and scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to rid herself of this exhausted haze.

Her head pounded and she groaned as she pressed her fingers to her temples. She hadn't been hungover in years; and right now she remembered very clearly why she didn't drink that much anymore. Gone were the days of bouncing back.

"Aspirin?" Esposito asked, making his presence known.

He walked over to them, held out his hand and offered two round pills.

"Thanks," she croaked. With one hand she reached for the pills, her coffee with the other.

"So?" Lanie urged once Kate had swallowed the painkillers.

Despite her best attempts, Kate couldn't stop her smile as the memories of last night resurfaced. A warmth filled her chest and she felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

"You know what? I really don't need to be here for this," Esposito commented.

He stepped closer to Lanie, dropped a kiss to the top of her head and walked toward the front door.

"Enjoy your girl talk," he called over his shoulder.

"Love you." Lanie blew a kiss his way.

Esposito's eyes flickered to Kate, then back to his girlfriend, and Kate knew it was a silent warning; a pre-emptive don't you dare say a word.

He 'caught' Lanie's kiss, tucked it away in his pocket and then sent her two in return.

Kate lifted her hand to hide her smile. She had to fight the oh-so-strong urge to tease him mercilessly; the way he had (for years) ridiculed Ryan's softer, more romantic side. She wouldn't, though. Not when it was her best friend on the receiving end of these small moments. Honestly, she was glad the tough-as-nails detective had this side to him, and had found someone he could share it with.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Kate looked at her friend still kneeling before her.

"You two are adorable," she gushed.

"Uh-uh, we're not talking about me." Lanie placed her hands over Kate's knee and leant her chin on them, looking up at her with puppy-dog eyes. "Tell me everything!"

By the time Monday rolled around, she had made peace with the fact that she had screwed up.

Keeping Lanie's drunken (and completely inaccurate) summary of Serendipity in mind - they're left with nothing but fond memories of that great night and nothing ruins it - she was able to not dwell on it too much.

She stepped off the elevator and entered the bullpen. Ryan and Esposito were already there, sitting at Esposito's desk, which wasn't anything unusual. What caught her attention, however, was the fact that several other detectives and officers were gathered around them.

Ryan looked up, smiling when he noticed her. He tapped Espo's arm to get his attention.

"What have I told you guys about watching X-rated movies at work?" she joked as she unloaded her belongings at her desk.

"Check it out, guys," Esposito said cheerily to the group surrounding him. "It's Little Miss Page Six."

She looked at him, confused. "It's who?"

The smug smirks on the boys' faces dropped in an instant, causing her stomach to knot anxiously.

"You haven't seen it?" Ryan asked quietly, erring on the side of caution.

"Seen what?"

"Abort mission," Esposito blurted, causing the small crowd to scatter in every direction.

She rushed over to see what they were looking at.

"What the hell?"

She stood, slack-jawed, as she stared at the image on the screen: her and Rick walking to his car, his arm around her waist and a smile on both of their faces. She might have thought it was a sweet image, if it weren't for the invasiveness of it all.

"Best-selling novelist, Richard Castle, pictured leaving popular Manhattan club Illusions with a mystery woman..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to scan the article.

Never, not in a million years, did she think that she would have to worry about her private life being published for the world to read.

The boys sat awkwardly as she read, knowing this probably wasn't going to end well for them but it was far too late for them to try and sneak away.

She cursed under her breath and stormed to the break room. She had no plan; once there she just stood in the centre of the room, staring at the wall with her hands on her hips. She didn't know how to feel in the moment. There was an odd sense of violation and shame. The image was innocent enough and the article itself talked more about the nightclub than Rick... but she knew where they were headed, the things that took place afterward.

She didn't want to think about how many people that she actually knew would see it. Evidently, it was already making the rounds here at work.

"It's not as bad as it seems."

She turned around to glare at Esposito.

"People think it's kinda cool that you're friends with a celebrity," he explained.

"We already explained that you guys go way back," Ryan assured her. "We were just going to give you hell for finding yourself in the spotlight, seeing as you're such a private person."

"Don't worry, Beckett. No one is thinking you're an actual human being with human desires," Espo teased.

"Oh, ha ha." She swatted his arm, but a wave of relief washed over her. "Thanks guys."

She really did appreciate the little family that they had become over the years.

"I knew that I knew him," she said, unprompted. The boys looked at her curiously. "There was something so familiar... I can't believe I didn't figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Ryan asked.

"My mom loved his books," she admitted with a smile. "Small world, right?"

Esposito took another step closer and lowered his voice. "Lanie said you were kinda bummed about not exchanging numbers with Writer Boy."

She rolled her eyes. "I really wish you guys wouldn't talk about m-"

"Shh," he interrupted. "I'm tryin' to do something nice."

He passed her a folded Post-It note, offering no explanation.

She unfolded it, read the name he had scrawled.

"The Oxford Comma?"

"It's a little bookstore in Brooklyn," Esposito clarified. "He's there for a signing right now."

"He watched as she shut it down. It was amazing, really, how easily she could compartmentalise. How, with a simple flick of a switch, she could block out any and all emotion. Terrifying, but amazing. Just moments ago she was frantic, searching his body for bullet wounds despite his assurance that he was fine. And seconds later, she was recounting the series of events that had led them to that moment to NYPD officers, as professionally as she would any other case. But this wasn't any other case. This was personal. And now that she had turned it off, shut it down, he was more anxious than ever."

Usually his fans listened in silence as he read from his upcoming novel: aside from the sound of his own voice, the room would be so still you could hear a pin drop. But right now, that wasn't the case. He could hear the whispers of the crowd, the soft murmurs throwing him off as he read.

His eyes lifted from the page and scanned the faces before him, but the eyes of his adoring fans were no longer on him.

He followed the crowd, searching for whatever it was that had pulled their focus until he found the source of disruption.

Kate stood at the back of the crowd, her eyes on him.

On Sunday morning, when he had woken up to an empty bed and no notes from her, he had assumed that he would most likely never see her again. It had hurt; to think that the connection between them had been something he had imagined. But here she was: she had gone to the effort of tracking him down and coming to this reading. It was exactly the reassurance he needed, the confirmation that he hadn't imagined anything.

With a smile on his face, he continued to read.

"He had given his account of events, so now he was just waiting on her. He wanted to take her home, let her rest, force her if he had to. But he knew it was futile. He could see that familiar fire in her eyes. She was on the hunt, she had her perp's scent and she wouldn't rest until this was over."

He continued to the end of the chapter, adding a little extra flare... just for her.

It's not that he thought he had to impress her or anything but - assuming that this was her introduction to his work - he wanted to make a lasting impression.

Once done, he made his way through the crowd; shaking hands, signing books and answering questions. He had to mentally push aside that persistent little voice in his head that was practically begging him to make a beeline for her and ignore everyone else. He couldn't do that - these were his fans and without them he wouldn't have the career he loved - but when the crowd finally thinned out and she was nowhere to be found, he couldn't help the disappointment that settled heavy in his chest.

He walked out of the store with his hands in his pockets and his head hung low.

"Hey, you," she called from behind him.

He stopped and turned, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey! I didn't expect to see you here. To what do I owe this surprise?"

She smiled and shrugged. "I was in the area," she said nonchalantly.

But something told him that wasn't the full truth.

"You can admit it," he said with a smirk. "You wanted to see me again."

His gaze dropped to her mouth, where her lower lip caught between her teeth as she considered her next move.

"Okay," she confessed. "I wanted to see you again."

He couldn't stop the resulting victorious puff of his chest.

"I wanted to kick your ass for not giving me a heads up that my drunken stumble to your car might end up as news," she added.

Her tone was playful, but slightly forced.

"I'm so sorry about that." He grimaced. "If it helps: the general consensus is that you are way out of my league."

She smiled, shifted her eyes to the side and hummed as if deep in thought. "Yeah, helps a little."

"Richard!"

The smile dropped from his face, his proudly puffed chest collapsing as he exhaled heavily.

"You've got to be kidding me," he mumbled under his breath before turning toward the woman beckoning him.

"Yes, Gina?"

She checked her watch and then met his eyes with a fierce assertiveness.

"Three-thirty," she reminded him.

"I haven't forgotten."

The woman's stare darted to Kate and then back to him.

"Don't be late," she warned before walking in the opposite direction.

He slowly turned back to Kate, who was looking rather amused.

"Bossy and disapproving? She another ex-wife?" she joked.

He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out.

Kate's smile dropped and she looked over to the woman still striding down the street. "Seriously?"

"I'm a hopeless romantic!" he defended. "When I fall, I fall hard."

She brought her attention back to him. "Yeah, I'm noticing. Exactly how many ex-wives do you have?"

"Just the two!"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed, dubiously. "Anything else I should know?"

"I'm happy to discuss over a coffee, if you have a little time?"

Chapter Text

The short stroll to the little café down the street was filled by a comfortable silence.

He pondered the moment: usually, by now, he would be desperately trying to fill the void with incessant rambling or a string of witty remarks - anything to fill the silence. But with her, with Kate, he didn't feel the need. Her presence alone was comforting enough; he didn't need anything more.

"Have you been here before?" he asked as he held the door open for her to enter.

She smiled her thanks and they headed for the first available table.

"I haven't, actually."

"This place is one of my favourites," he gushed. He pulled out a chair for her. "Every week they do Freaky Friday, where they have a pastry or dessert of the day that's just some random, odd food combination. Last time I was here it was chocolate and potato chip muffins," he added as he sat across from her.

She laughed. "That sounds gross."

"It does. I was sceptical at first, too, but believe me when I tell you it was life-changing. The sweet and the salty-" He brought his fingers and thumb to his lips and kissed them in a theatrical gesture. "Perfection."

She shook her head, but her smile remained. "I might just take your word on that one."

"Your loss." He shrugged.

He passed her the drink menu - already knowing what he was planning on ordering for himself - and waited as she browsed the selections.

He took the opportunity to study her face: the dark rim of her hazel irises, the fine lines by her mouth that were barely visible until she smiled, the way her brow furrowed as she concentrated. He was smiling like an idiot; he knew it, but he couldn't stop. He still couldn't believe that she had sought him out and waited for him to schmooze a crowd so that she could be alone with him.

It may be corny, but he felt like he had won the lottery.

Her eyes slowly lifted from the menu, darting back down the instant she realised she had been 'busted' trying to catch a secret glimpse of his face.

He found her shyness endearing.

Her gaze lifted again, but this time she didn't look away.

"Do I have something on my face?" She laughed, but the gentle brush of her fingertips against her cheek told him she was feeling a little self-conscious.

"No," he assured her. "It's just nice to see you again. I didn't think I would get the chance."

Her eyes dropped back to the menu, avoiding his.

He hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted. He opened his mouth, intent on apologising, but she spoke first.

"I'm sorry that I left without saying goodbye," she said softly.

"Yeah, that kinda sucked." He shrugged. "But, I mean, you made it pretty clear from the start that you weren't interested in anything... more."

She looked up at him. "I was trying to prove something to myself, I guess."

"Oh yeah? What were you trying to prove?"

"It's not important. I don't want to bore you." She laughed; an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I don't think you could bore me if you tried," he assured her.

"I thought we were here to discuss all your deep, dark secrets," she said playfully; deflecting.

"I'll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours," he shot back, waggling his brows.

He could see it in her eyes: she was considering his counter-offer, and he hoped that her curiosity would override her need to stay guarded.

She smiled. "You first."

"Oh, come on. You've already met both my ex-wives. Doesn't that grant me one teeny, tiny little secret first?"

She shook her head and leant back in her chair.

"I want a big one," she said with a smile. "If you've ever killed a man, here's your chance to get it off your chest."

"Ah, sorry to disappoint but my bad boy reputation doesn't extend to homicide."

She hummed. "There's hope for you yet."

"Really? That's where the bar is: not a murderer?"

She laughed heartily. "My standards are a little higher than that but it helps."

"I'll keep that in mind," he noted.

"Stop procrastinating!" She leant forward, ready to hear his confessions. "You're not getting out of this."

She could read him like the morning paper, not at all fooled by banter and a charming smile.

He liked that.

So - in the spirit of getting to know each other, really getting to know each other - he decided to start with the big one.

"You remember Meredith, right?"

She narrowed her eyes and tapped her finger to her chin as if deep in thought.

"Red hair, about this tall-" She gestured with her hand around eye-level. "Doesn't know a damn thing about me but thinks I'm beneath you? Mass market, I believe the term was."

He grimaced. "Yeah, that's the one."

"I think I remember her... vaguely."

He took a deep breath and prepared to rip off the band-aid.

"Well, we have a daughter."

"Oh." All playful drained from face but she recovered quickly, forcing the smile back to her face. "Wh- uh, what's her name?"

"Alexis," he provided hesitantly. "She's seventeen."

"Wow."

He watched her throat bob as she swallowed, her eyes searching the table as if it would tell her how to appropriately respond.

"I, uh- I didn't imagine you as a dad, if I'm being honest." She chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, I find a lot of people are surprised when they find out. I try not to be too offended by that."

Her laugh relaxed - less nervous, more genuinely amused - and the sound flooded his body with relief: she didn't seem to be writing him off completely.

"Your turn," he said, keen to move past his own complications and onto hers. Even the playing field, even if only slightly. "Unload your baggage. I bet you can't beat two ex-wives and a teenage daughter," he joked.

"Uh, no." She chuckled to herself. "Not quite."

"You were saying that you were trying to prove something to yourself," he prompted.

She sighed. "You remember Lanie?" she asked, mirroring his question before.

"Yes." He smiled. "I liked Lanie."

"She liked you too, apparently. She was very much the driving force behind... what happened."

"Remind me to thank her," he quipped, earning him a playful eye roll.

"As we have already discussed, I don't do that very often. Not that I have anything against it, of course, I just... I work a lot and I'm very much a homebody so I don't go out, I don't meet new people... the opportunity just doesn't present itself, you know?"

He smiled at her nervous rambling, found it... cute.

"The few times I have gone home with someone, it's always turned into something more."

"So, what? You wanted to prove that you could... hit it and quit it?" he asked, chuckling.

She smiled and shook her head. "I was trying to find a slightly more tasteful way of putting it, but yeah."

"So this-" He waved his hand back and forth between them. "Is ruining that?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"So, may I ask: why are you here?"

She didn't respond, just looked into his eyes with an unnerving intensity.

After several seconds she broke away, eyes dropping to her lap where she tugged the hem of her shirt over her lap.

"Leaving felt like a mistake," she admitted.

The confession - the acknowledgement that this wasn't completely one-sided - had him soaring.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) before his eager heart could take the inch she had given and run a mile with it, a waitress approached to take their order.

The interruption was only short, but it allowed him time to settle the flurry of butterflies in his stomach.

As the waitress walked away, he started where they had left off.

"Tell me, why exactly is 'more' a bad thing?"

"It's not the more that's bad, it's... the timing."

Oh, he recognised that tone. The hesitation, the careful skirting of certain details - this was messy break up territory.

"How long were you together?" he asked confident in his assumption.

Something flickered behind her eyes. Surprise, that he knew? Anger, because he - a stranger - dared to pry? Relief, for he seemed to understand?

Her shoulders slumped and she exhaled slowly. "Almost a year and a half."

"Why'd it end?"

The words tumbled from his mouth before his better judgement had the chance to stop them. He knew he had overstepped: the way her jaw dropped and she just stared at him, stunned by the audacity.

Apologise, his mind urged, but he was frozen.

"Why'd you and Meredith end?" she bit back.

He knew it was rhetorical, that she wasn't expecting an actual answer but - once again - the words slipped out of their own accord.

"She cheated on me."

Hers eyes locked to his, apologetic and... understanding.

And suddenly he felt sick to his stomach.

Had this been her situation, too? Had someone really been lucky enough to have won her over, been given the opportunity to love and cherish her for any period of time only to be a fool and throw it all away: breaking her heart and shattering her trust in the process?

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be. There had always been... issues," he assured her. "We stuck it out for Alexis but all we ever did was fight."

She nodded and listened intently as he spoke.

"Really, we were both just too scared of moving on. It sucked, but, it gave me the push I needed to actually walk away. And we're both better for it: Alexis, too."

She stayed quiet as she processed his words.

He waited, patiently, hoping his openness would encourage her to follow suit, not scare her away.

"His name was Adam." She started her confession quietly, reluctantly. "We met through Lanie. She was going on a date with someone she had met online and she was very nervous so they did the whole you bring a friend and I'll bring a friend thing."

"Adam was the friend?" he surmised.

"Yeah." A faint smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Lanie's date was horrible from the very start but she suffered through because..."

"You clicked," he provided for her after her words trailed off.

She nodded, but her smile faded and sadness washed over her face.

"Two weeks ago his ex-wife showed up on the doorstep while he was at work."

Rick's stomach flipped: suddenly Kate's reaction toward Meredith made so much sense.

"She had printed off a bunch of emails he had sent her. They had been talking for weeks - months, maybe - talking about how much they missed each other, that they still loved each other and wanted to give their relationship another chance."

She stopped, dropped her eyes to the table and swallowed hard , trying to rid her expression of the emotion she so obviously felt.

"Ouch," he muttered.

Her eyes darted back up to his and an amused huff of air - that could have maybe been a laugh if this situations wasn't so cold - escaped her.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I thought maybe she felt bad for her role in it so I thanked her for caring enough to tell me - God knows how much longer I would have been kept in the dark if she hadn't. Turns out she was just keeping impatient waiting for him to leave me so she took things into her own hands."

"Oh, that's brutal."

"Now I'm crashing on Lanie's couch, trying to find somewhere to live so that I can figure out my next steps. So, there you have it: my story, my baggage, the reason I can't... do more."

"Of course." He understood completely, but that didn't ease the sting of disappointment he felt.

"You know that period of time after a break up when you're just... not okay? Like, I know it's over and I'm moving forward. But, there's this heaviness that just kind of lurks."

"Like storm clouds over the city."

"Yeah, just like that."

One thing about Rick, though, was that storm clouds never stopped him from venturing outside.

"Have you ever danced in the rain, though?" he asked.

"What?" She smiled, but confusion marred her face and he realised his thoughts had bled into his words.

"Sorry, I'm thinking out loud. Look, I don't want to push if you're not ready but I do feel like there's something here. I want to get to know you, Kate. I want to spend more time with you."

"I would like that, I just- I'm not in a place where I can offer you anything more than friendship."

"That's all I'm asking," he blurted, his heart filled with hope.

Hope that this was just the beginning of their story: a story that would last a lifetime.

She narrowed her eyes, her disbelief painfully evident. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Kate," he assured her, his voice firm but friendly. "I like you, you're interesting. Of course I want your friendship."

The corners of her mouth twitched into a shy smile and she looked as if she was about to speak, but her phone began to ring.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"Of course." He leant back in his chair and allowed his eyes to wander the small crowd of people around them, giving Kate as much privacy as the small distance between them would allow.

"Beckett," she spoke into her phone.

He smiled at the unusual greeting: he couldn't imagine answer his phone with nothing more than a short 'Castle'. But ,he supposed it was an efficiency thing.

She grabbed a paper napkin from the dispenser, the pen from her pocket and - as she hummed and uh-huh'd her way through this very one-sided conversation - scrawled down what looked to be an address.

His attention was drawn away by the waitress as she placed their coffee's on the table.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "Is there any chance I could grab a take-away cup?" he asked. He had a sneaking suspicion that this meeting was coming to an end sooner rather than later.

"Of course, I'll bring one over."

"Thanks."

"Okay, on my way," Kate said before she ended the call. She looked at Rick and sighed. "Sorry, I have to go."

"Life of a cop, right?" He smiled, an assurance that he understood. His eyes dropped, studying her outfit. "No uniform?"

"No uniform," she confirmed. "I'm a detective."

"There you go, Sir," the waitress said as she placed the take away cup onto the table.

"Thank you."

He slid Kate's latte closer to himself and carefully transferred it from the warm ceramic into the cardboard alternative.

"There you go." He put the lid on the cup and passed it to her.

"You're a Godsend!" she practically cheered as she stuffed her phone back into her jacket pocket.

She stood, pulled cash from her pocket and placed it on the table.

"Hold on!" He reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Can I please have your number this time? I'm assuming you didn't track me down for the hell of it."

"Oh, right." She smiled. "I suppose."

She grabbed another napkin from the dispenser and wrote her number on it, passing it to him.

"Just for the record, Esposito tracked you down."

A smug grin spread across Rick's face. "I knew he liked me."

Chapter Text

Rick sighed and tossed his keys on the bench. His day had dragged out much longer than he expected it would: another reading in a quaint little bookstore by Central Park, a business dinner with Paula to discuss tomorrow's talk-show interview followed by a 'casual' drink (and the not-so-casual reminder of his expected behaviour) with Gina and the suits in charge of his promotion schedule. He was exhausted and had one thing (and one thing only) on his mind: bed.

The loft was quiet and so he came to the conclusion that his mother and daughter had drifted upstairs for the evening. He would go up to them to say goodnight, to let them know that he was home, but first he just needed a quiet moment to himself, a second to sit and relax.

He flopped down into the couch, sighing as the soft cushions clouded around his body; so welcoming, so comforting. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest for just a few blissful seconds.

"You're home!"

He opened his eyes and turned to look over his shoulder, watching as his daughter descended the stairs.

"Hey, Pumpkin," he called back to her with a smile. "How was school?"

She sat beside him, snuggled up against his side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"We had a pop quiz in algebra. I aced it," she informed him proudly.

"That's my girl."

"Claire is back from her family's annual DC trip. She brought me this charm of the Washington Monument." Alexis held her wrist in front of them, letting her father inspect the new charm that dangled from her bracelet. "How was your day?"

Rick sighed.

"A lot of reading, signing, pretending to listen to Gina rattling on about the new schedule," he grumbled.

"You know, you probably should be paying attention to that," Alexis urged.

"Mm, probably," Rick agreed.

"D'you do anything else?"

"Nah, just the usual tour stuff." He grew suspicious under his daughter's studying eyes. "Why?"

"You forgot to mention your coffee date." Alexis smirked mischievously. "Is she going to be my new Mommy?" she teased.

Rick looked at his daughter, mouth agape but secretly just a little proud how easily she had led him into that one.

"I think your real mother might have an issue with that," he sneered. "How'd you know about the coffee?"

"CastleFan508 spotted you and posted about it."

"What have I told you about staying off the fan sites?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded at least a little authoritative.

"Who is she, Dad?" Alexis asked, completely unfazed by his weak attempt at scolding her.

"She's... a friend."

"Right-" Alexis rolled her eyes. "That's why you didn't come home on Saturday night: because she's just a friend."

"What makes you think I was with her on Saturday night?"

"You made Page Six, Dad."

"Oh." He had forgotten about that. "Right."

"Seriously though; is it... serious?"

"I told you, she's just a friend."

"Then what's with the big, goofy, love-struck smile on your face?"

Oh.

Three weeks had passed since the too-short 'coffee date' with Rick.

Three impossibly slow weeks.

Between his book tour commitments and her roster, they hadn't had another opportunity to catch up but they talked daily. She woke up every morning to a text from him. The conversation would flow throughout the day; he'd message her in between interviews and meet & greets, and she would reply as soon as she had the chance. And for the past week, he had called her just to say goodnight.

She knew that this wasn't the friendship she'd had in mind, already so attached, but so far it seemed to be working for them.

Each day she learned something new about him. He so willingly shared stories of his past: from growing up backstage on Broadway to his wilder and (she assumed) heavily redacted college days. He spoke so fondly of the early days with Alexis, how much he appreciated that his job allowed him the opportunity to be such a hands-on father. Her heart broke for him when he revealed how important that was to him due to his own father being absent from his life.

With each insight he offered her, she offered up something of herself in return.

She told him about her time in the academy; how she strived to be the very best she could be (and broke several records in the process). She shared memories from her childhood and teenage years and revelled in the fact that he seemed genuinely interested in every aspect of her; asking questions, gently pushing for more. He wanted to know her, really know her. And so she tentatively began to share small pieces of her life between high school and the academy, well aware of where the conversation would lead.

When he - as she had expected him to - asked about the transition from lawyer-in-the-making to kickass-homicide-detective, she had almost reverted back to the days of being completely closed off, protected by that siege-proof wall. She had put her phone down, walked away and (tried to) push the question from her mind only returning hours later and after significant internal debate. With a heavy heart, she recounted the events that had led her to this very day: her mother's murder, her father's dependence on alcohol, the rabbit hole she found herself falling into and how it led her to such a dark, sorrowful place.

He was there for her in a way she had not expected, in a way that made her... lighter. He didn't pretend to understand, didn't act like he had any idea how she must feel. He simply assured her that - should she ever need someone to talk to, to lean on - he would be there and he would try his hardest to be whatever she needed at that moment. A sentiment she never would have expected to mean so much to her. Without hesitation, she vowed to do the same for him... should he ever need it.

With the exception of Lanie, Ryan and Esposito; Richard Castle had (in just a few weeks) learned more about her than anyone else ever had. And as for the storm clouds they had discussed; they seemed to be drifting further and further away from her city with each day that passed.

Kate shifted from her spot on the couch, slipping to the floor by Lanie's feet.

"You okay?" Esposito asked.

She leant back slowly, lowering herself to lay on her back.

They (Lanie, Esposito, Ryan, Jenny and herself) had been playing Never Have I Ever: a mistake from which they never seemed to learn.

"Should've eaten first," she mumbled.

She stared at the mouldings on the ceiling, the only clear thought in her mind right now was how much she missed Rick.

"There's leftovers from dinner in the fridge," Esposito informed her.

She grunted in response. Not unappreciative, of course, but leftovers just seemed like too much effort for her right now.

Esposito chuckled. "I can heat it up for your drunk ass if you need," he offered, seemingly reading her mind.

"Not drunk," she mumbled, all but reinforcing his conclusion. "Don't want proper food."

Lanie laughed. She had always found amusement in the many different states of 'drunk Kate'. Energetic and flirty or a little messy and emotional: Lanie loved and embraced all versions of her.

"What do you want, then?" she asked Kate.

Before Kate had a chance to answer, her phone began to vibrate on the couch beside Lanie.

Lanie looked down at the phone, then to Kate; astonishment evident in the light in her eyes and the curve of her smile. "Wow, this really is a smart phone."

Kate forced herself to sit up and snatched the phone from beside her friend. She - unlike Lanie - didn't really believe in signs from the universe; but she couldn't ignore the timing of Rick's call. She furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes in Lanie's direction, but she couldn't put a stop to the smile that slowly crept onto her face.

With the swipe of Kate's thumb, the vibrations ceased.

"Fries. I want fries."

"Sure you do," Lanie teased.

She brought the phone to her ear.

"Hey," she greeted with a cheer in her voice she knew her friends would later tease her mercilessly for. "Aren't you supposed to be at some charity thing?"

"I smiled for the camera, gave them my money. That's really all they want," he said: seemingly unfazed, but she knew better.

Over their many conversations, he had alluded to the fact that his rise to fame had come with drawbacks. Everybody wants something from me, he had said during one late night phone call. She hadn't known what to say at the time, but in that moment she had made a silent vow to never want anything more than his company.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Not bad," she answered with a shrug he couldn't see. "Finished work early, went to check out an apartment but it's a seventeen hundred dollar shoebox and Lanie has threatened to end our friendship if I even consider signing a lease, so..."

"She's a good friend," Rick commented.

Kate looked at Lanie and smiled thoughtfully. "Yeah, she is."

"You should invite him over!" Lanie called out.

Kate covered her phone with her hand and her smile turned into an icy glare.

"Shhh!" she urged quietly, but she wasn't sure why: Rick had most definitely heard, evident by the chuckle coming from his end of the line.

"Sounds like you're having a good night," he commented.

"Yeah. There might be some wine and card games involved."

"Oh yeah? You winning?"

"I think I'm losing." She frowned as she looked at her friends, who all seemed much more level-headed than she felt. "I missed the dinner portion of the night."

Rick laughed. "Oh, rookie error."

"I know, right."

"Well, I'll let you get back to it. I just wanted to say goodnight."

"You don't- you don't have to," she stuttered nervously. She locked eyes with Lanie, silently asking her friend for confirmation before continuing.

Lanie - the master of reading Kate Beckett's mind - nodded enthusiastically before puckering her lips and kissing the air.

Kate rolled her eyes, the flush of embarrassment burning in her cheeks.

"Do you want to come over?"

"I don't want to interrupt."

"Lanie wants you to come."

"Lanie wants me to?" Rick asked, his voice a skilfully balanced combination of glee and accusation.

He was gonna make her say it...

Kate remained silent, smiling to herself. She could drag this out all night if she really wanted to: a battle to see who could be more stubborn.

She knew she could win, but would that really be winning?

"I want you to," she admitted quietly. "How far are you from East Village?"

"Can be there in 15 minutes."

"I'll text you the address."

"Perfect. I'll see you soon."

Twenty minutes later a knock on the door had her sick with nerves: stomach flipping like an acrobat, head spinning too fast and heart racing too erratic.

She hadn't seen Rick in weeks and yet their relationship had developed so much in that time. Already, this friendship seemed so much easier when they weren't physically together. She could be vulnerable, be flirty, be whatever she wanted without having to worry about staying in control because what could actually happen when there was a whole city between them?

But now that he was here...

She inhaled deeply and opened the front door, her nerves melting away the instant she saw his smiling face.

Her gaze raked down his body, taking him in: his neatly coiffed hair, perfectly tied bow tie, mystery brown paper bag in his hand.

"You're wearing a tux," she stated in lieu of an actual greeting.

Rick narrowed his eyes. "Hello to you, too."

"Sorry," Kate laughed and stepped aside to let him in.

"I was at a charity gala," he reminded her as he stepped inside. He smiled his greetings to the rest of the group before turning his attention back to Kate. "What'd you think I'd be wearing?"

She didn't answer, just took a moment to look him up and down once more.

"I look good, right?" Rick flirted, smirk on his face.

She shrugged, tried to ignore the vivid memories of him in various states of undress. "You've looked better."

Rick's jaw dropped and he gasped, feigning the offence he couldn't quite muster as he watched Kate bite down on her bottom lip, flirtation lighting up in her eyes.

"I guess I'll have to eat these fries myself then," he said as he held up the paper bag in his hand.

"We think you look good," Ryan called across the room, flicking his finger back and forth between himself and Jenny. "Do we get fries?"

Rick pointed to the couple and smiled bright. "You do!"

"You look very suave," Esposito added.

"Thanks man," Rick said as he tossed the bag toward the group.

"You didn't have to bring food," Kate told him.

"You said you wanted fries," he justified with a shrug. "Besides, I was starving. I scoffed down a cheeseburger on the way here. Now, go eat before it's all gone."

Kate laughed, shook her head and rolled her eyes playfully.

"Thank you."

She linked her arm through his and led him over to join the rest of the group.

Rick sat on the floor with his back against the couch, his legs stretched out under the coffee table in front of him. It hadn't taken long for Kate to migrate toward him.

At first it was the gentle combing of her fingers through his hair as she shifted to sit on the couch behind him, his own fingers wrapped around her ankle as his thumb brushed delicately across the protruding bone.

Gradually, as the night continued, their touches became less subtle. Kate slipped from her spot on the couch, wedging herself against Rick's body as he wrapped his arm around her waist. The warmth of his body and the low hum of his voice as he quietly conversed with her friends were a comfort; slowly but surely lulling her toward sleep.

2am was fast approaching and the night's shenanigans had long quietened down. Ryan and Jenny had said their goodbyes and headed home, and Lanie had dragged Esposito into the kitchen in search of something to snack on well over twenty minutes ago, leaving just Rick and Kate in the living room: more 'alone' than they had been in weeks.

"You asleep yet?" he whispered, sounding all too pleased with himself.

She shifted slightly, hiding her face behind his arm so that he couldn't see her eyes that just refused to stay open.

"No," she grumbled into his bicep, the slight croak in her voice betraying her.

Rick chuckled and pressed his mouth to the top of her head: the possibility of a kiss lingering, but not yet fulfilled.

Kate held her breath as she waited, curious to see if he would take that step or not. Her eyes flitted open as the fatigue drained from her body, replaced with anticipation.

"I should go."

She let out the breath, couldn't help but feel disappointed despite the hours they had already spent together. The effortlessly pleasant hours.

"You could come with me," he added.

She smiled and tilted her head to look into his eyes, the glimmer of hope shining bright in his baby blues magnetically pulling her closer, tempting her. Lines had, after all, already been blurred tonight; each touch, each innuendo, each flirtatious smile.

"Is Alexis home?" she whispered.

"No," he whispered in return as his fingers gently grazed down her side. "Just me."

She shivered, goosebumps peppering her entire body. Fingertips traced circles on his thigh as he did the same on the exposed skin of her hip.

The smell of his cologne, the warmth of his body pressed to hers and the tenderness of his touch all beckoned to her, daring her to forget her own rules.

"I shouldn't," she said with a heavy sigh of regret.

He nodded and let out a slight chuckle. "Worth a try, right?"

Finally, he pressed that kiss to her hair before removing his arm from around her.

She forced her body upright, unaware of just how heavily she had been leaning into him, as he rose to his feet.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, typed out a quick text message and then tucked the phone away again.

"Hey, do me a favour?" Kate asked.

Rick turned to face her, held out his hands. Kate grabbed them and he pulled her to her feet.

"Anything," he said as he pulled her closer.

She smiled and bit her bottom lip. "Don't quit trying just yet."

Rick's smile brightened.

"Wasn't planning on it," he assured her. "That was an open invitation, too, just so you know. If you happen to change your mind. Ever: in an hour, or a day, a year..."

"A year?" she asked incredulously.

She couldn't help but laugh awkwardly. The idea of this man - someone she barely knew - being willing to wait so long for her, being so certain of her already, made her nervous.

Rick just shrugged. "I'm hopeful it won't take that long for you to see what I see."

"Oh yeah? And what exactly do you see?"

Confidence curved his lips and he slowly leant forward until his nose grazed hers.

He could see her eyes flutter, the gentle tilt of her head as she moved closer and, when her lips were just millimetres from his, he pulled back.

"That this is something great," he informed her, matter-of-factly. "And we've barely scratched the surface."

He dropped her hands from hers and stepped back, smiling to himself as she let out a frustrated huff of air.

"I've gotta go," he said as he checked his phone again, loud enough for Lanie and Espo to hear him from the kitchen. "Gregory is outside already."

He tapped his pants pockets - left, right, back - checking for wallet and keys before heading toward the door.

"Later, Castle!" Espo called out.

Lanie followed suit. "Bye Rick!"

"Oh, your jacket!" Kate called out to him, lifting his tuxedo coat from where it had been left; draped over the back of a dining chair.

With one hand already on the front door knob, he turned to her and smiled.

"Yeah. I, uh, I was actually going to accidentally leave it here so I had an excuse to come back."

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head, but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face.

"You don't need an excuse, you know?"

"I know." Rick shrugged. "Better to have one anyway... just in case."

Chapter Text

The loft was alive with ambience: gentle lighting, soft music playing in the background and the savoury scent of his famous Bolognese that slowly filled the air.

He had barely stepped through his door the other night when his phone chimed, not twenty minutes after leaving her.

Her message was brief; simple and straight to the point.

Brunch? I'll be at Angelo's Café at 10 if you're interested.

He smiled to himself as he typed out his reply.

Of course. See you there.

Unfortunately, she had been called into work and their 'brunch date' postponed. Brunch became dinner, dinner was pushed to maybe tomorrow? and then maybe tomorrow? turned into I'll call you, okay?

Throughout the week Kate had checked in as often as she could, used each quick text as an opportunity to apologise profusely despite his insistence there was no need for apologies. He was disappointed, sure, but that's life. Shit happens.

But tonight... tonight was a go! She'd given him the green light earlier in the afternoon; they'd closed their case, just had to finish the paperwork and she was free as a bird.

He had all but banished his mother and Alexis for the night. Not that he expected anything to happen - he respected Kate's need for time, he really did - but he still wasn't entirely sure where she stood in regard to meeting his family, and it wasn't particularly a subject he wanted to broach too soon and risk scaring her off.

So, for now, he was happy to keep these two parts of his life separate. For now.

He lifted the lid to stir his Bolognese sauce, breathing in as the rich aroma wafted to his nostrils. It was nearly done and Kate was due to arrive any moment now.

As if on cue, his phone began to ring. He pulled it from his pocket; smiled at her name and face illuminating his screen.

"I hope you're hungry," he said when he answered the call. "I've cooked enough to feed a small army!"

The regretful sigh that echoed through the phone sunk his heart to the pit of his stomach.

She was cancelling. Again.

"Rick, I am so sorry."

"It's fine," he replied, forcing a smile in hopes that it would cover at least some of the disappointment in his voice.

"It's not fine, it's so last minute and you've already cooked! I feel awful."

"You're not awful, Kate. You don't have a standard nine-to-five job, I get it."

In her silence, he could hear the hustle and bustle around her: movement, voices, chaos. He could practically feel the stress of the precinct radiating through the phone and he knew the last thing she needed right now was to be worrying or feeling guilty about having to bail on him. So he took a deep breath, allowed his disappointment to melt away.

"Thankfully, I have no life whatsoever now that the tour is over," he said in jest. "I can work around whatever crazy hours you have to work."

Kate sighed, but he could hear her relief. "You're too good to me."

"I know."

Her chuckle, even when slightly strained, was like music to his ears.

"There will be leftovers if you want to call in when you're done," Rick informed her, hopeful that there might still be a chance - even a slight chance - of seeing her tonight.

"We've been called in on another case. It's high priority and all hands on deck right now. Looks like an all-nighter, unfortunately. I'm so sorry."

"That's okay," he assured her again. "I get it. We'll do dinner another night."

"I'd really like that. Thank you. Again-"

"You're sorry," he said, cutting her off before she could apologise again. He chuckled. "I promise you, Kate: it's okay. Now get back to work before you get in trouble! And don't forget to eat something!"

"Okay, Dad," she groaned and rolled her eyes, but she was grateful to have someone who cared the way Rick did. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Look forward to it."

Rick ended the call and looked around the loft and let out a heavy sigh. He turned off the cooktop, set the meal aside to be packed away once it cooled off.

He went to his office, started up his laptop and opened the outline for his next story. If he was going to be spending the night alone, he may as well be productive.

Kate walked into the 4th floor conference room, deflated. She was exhausted, had been running herself ragged all week (they all had) and was really looking forward to finally being able to just... relax with Rick.

As she settled down into the seat between Ryan and Karpowski, Ryan looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

"Thought you had a date," he stated.

She scanned the room. Esposito, Karpowski, Officer Thornton and Captain Montgomery - who had all lifted their gaze from the evidence letters in their hands, waiting for her response - quickly returned to the task at hand, dropping their eyes and looking busy. It wasn't often she would talk about her private life while at work, so she couldn't fault them for their curiosity, but the last thing she needed was to become the next day's break room gossip.

"It wasn't a date," she corrected Ryan as she reached for a letter from the pile in the centre of the table.

"That's like the third time you've bailed on him this week," Espo added, obviously feeling the need to toss fuel onto the fire.

Kate kept her eyes glued to the letter as she grumbled her response. "It's not like I had much choice."

Captain Montgomery chuckled. "Now you sound like my daughters."

She dropped the letter down slightly, just enough to peer over the top of the creased sheets of paper with narrowed eyes.

"I'm sorry," the Captain offered sincerely. "The Eight-Four requested my best for this case." He motioned to the select few people in the room. "This is my best. You'll be compensated for your time and I'm already making arrangements for a few days off after this. But... you could have just said you had plans."

"Well, I would have felt a little bad if I took the night off and a congressman was assassinated," she said with a shrug, going back to the letter in her hand.

"Being wined and dined by that hunky author of yours would certainly make it a little better, though," Karpowski mumbled, smirking as she tried to avoid eye contact with Kate.

"He's not my author and there's no wining and dining," Kate explained. "It wasn't a date."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged amused glances - didn't even try to be subtle about it - but before she could argue her point further, an officer knocked on the door and poked his head into the room.

"Pizza is here," he announced with a smile.

"We didn't order pizza," Montgomery informed the officer with a polite smile.

"Delivery guy said it was some kind of pay it forward thing," the younger man explained. "Some dude ordered like 20 pizzas for the precinct."

"She cancels on the dude and he ends up feeding the entire precinct," Esposito mused aloud to Ryan.

"Uh, no. You have no proof that it was him!" Kate retorted, but she had no doubt in her mind that some dude was in fact Richard Castle.

"It's gotta be witchcraft, right?" Ryan said to Esposito, ignoring Kate's interruption.

"Nah, dude's just whipped." Espo laughed.

"Just go eat your pizza," Kate dismissed with the wave of her hand.

As much as he would have loved to have spent more time with Kate, and as disappointed as he had been upon realising that wasn't going to happen, he'd actually had quite a good night.

Productivity - particularly when it came to his writing - was never something he could just dive into: he had to work his way up to it. So, when he had first sat down with his laptop he spent a good hour or two toying with the idea of a new character: a tough but savvy female detective who was more or less just what he imagined Kate would be like at work.

He'd heard tidbits from Ryan and Esposito. They had described her as very professional, a stickler for rules and the absolute last person they'd want to find themselves against in an interrogation room, but they'd also said that she was an enigma. One minute she's a total hard-ass, had grown men quaking and on the verge of tears, confessing to their crimes. The next, she's a totally different person, as soft as a teddy bear as she comforts the victim's family, assures them that she'll do everything in her power to bring justice to their loved one. And it's not just a platitude; she means it, with every fibre of her being.

That was the side of her he found easiest to imagine. Although he had no doubt that she could make a grown man cry, he knows her softer side. Sure, it's fairly well insulated behind layers of hurt and mistrust, but it's there.

He hoped that one day it would be set free. Hoped that one day he would set it free.

He wanted to write this character, to really cement her existence in his world, but he felt she deserved to be more than a subplot. So he saved the file and promised himself he would revisit the idea of Nikki Heat someday soon. But, for now, he had work to do. Actual work.

The words just seemed to pour from him; the world of his own creation coming to life on the screen before him. This would be the fourth book in his Five Families series - and possibly the last, that was yet to be decided - and he wanted it to be his best one yet. And thanks to the letter he had received just last month, it just might be.

He picked up the letter from where it lay on his desk and read over Joe Pulgatti's hand-written words.

There's nothing more dangerous out there than a killer with a badge.

A mob enforcer, a life sentence and a desperate claim of innocence. Rick knew he'd struck gold with this one.

His phone vibrated against his desk, alerting him to a new text message. He lifted the device and noticed the time - half past twelve - and decided it was well past time to call it a night.

He shut down his laptop, packed away his research and tucked Pulgatti's letter back into its envelope. Returning to his phone, he opened the message.

The Twelfth precinct sends its thanks.

He knew she'd figure it out, but that didn't mean he wouldn't deny it.

I have no idea what you're talking about, he sent back.

Immediately, his phone began to ring.

"Hello," he greeted with the cheesy smile he couldn't stop from spreading across his face every time she called.

"It's late. Did I wake you?"

"No, I was still up. I think you'll be pleased to know I've had a very productive night of writing," he boasted.

"I'm glad," she replied earnestly.

"You finished for the night?"

"Yeah, Cap sent us home, ordered us to get some rest," she informed him.

"Don't suppose I could tempt you with my famous Bolognese?"

"Shouldn't you be going to bed?"

"I've downed, like, a gallon of espresso!" he admitted. "I don't think I'll be sleeping for a week."

Kate laughed. "In that case... I'm outside."

The street was quiet, dark, not at all what she would have expected given the location. Sure, it was the middle of the night. But this is the city that never sleeps!

And yet here she was, standing in near-silence, kicking around a stone on the sidewalk as she waited for Rick to come outside.

She had insisted on not going inside; a last ditch effort to stay in control. She had, after all, showed up at his place in the middle of the night on a whim, hoping he was still awake - and, honestly, full prepared to wake him if he wasn't. Not exactly what she would call in control, but the urge to see him tonight was overwhelming. Scarily so.

She'd never felt so drawn to someone before and it terrified her. Exhilarating, but dangerous. And there was a very loud part of her telling her to just give in.

"Eduardo." She heard the familiar voice greet the doorman that she'd turned her back to just moments ago.

She turned, smiled when her eyes met his.

"Mr Castle," the doorman returned his greeting with a polite nod. "I did inform Ms Beckett that she was welcome to wait inside."

"He did," she confirmed, hoping the kind man wouldn't be in any sort of trouble because she had stubbornly refused stepping foot inside the building.

"Yeah, she's a pain like that sometimes," Rick joked to Eduardo.

Eduardo cracked a smile, but schooled himself quickly and returned to his original, neutral expression.

"From now on, though, feel free to just come right up," Rick said, turning his attention back to her.

She smiled. From now on... she liked the sound of that.

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Like... right now, maybe?" he hinted.

She shook her head. "I just wanted to say goodnight."

"Could've just called," he stated bluntly.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. Yeah, she could have just called. But that wouldn't have satisfied the need to see him.

"What?" he asked, knowing very well what had her stunned. "Didn't expect me to call you out like that?"

"Not really," she admitted, smiling.

He smirked, obviously enjoying this.

"Come on," he urged, tilting his head back toward the entrance of his building. "I want to show you my place."

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. What's his place like? Is it as bold as his personality? Homely and lived in or did it look like it belonged in an interior design magazine? What could she learn about him from how he presented his home?

"Well, if you insist."

She looked around, mouth agape, absolutely awed by the grandeur of his home. It was easily larger than Lanie's place and, judging by the staircase to her left, this was only part of it.

"Three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs," he said as he placed his palm on her lower back and guided her further into his space. "Nothing of interest up there, really."

"Huh," she huffed, amused.

She's living out of a suitcase, crashing on her friends couch. Meanwhile, he's referring to his beautiful home as nothing of interest.

It never ceased to amaze her: the things people tend to take for granted.

Not that she blamed him. Her home - the home she had with Adam - was beautiful, too. She sure as hell didn't appreciate it enough when she had it.

Her eyes drifted across the room, landing on the partitioning book shelves on the other side.

"Is that all books?" she asked, her feet already moving in their direction.

He followed her, opening the door to his office when she stopped just shy of reaching for the handle.

"It's okay, you can go in there."

She stepped into his office, eyes scanning the room and absorbing as much information as possible. The artwork, the photographs, the Knick-knacks; all small parts of who he is, of what's important to him.

She turned back to face the book shelves, stared with child-like wonder at what had to have been a thousand novels.

"Have you read them all?" she asked, still scanning the colourful array before her.

"Mhmm. The shelf in the bedroom is the stuff I haven't read yet."

She gasped. Actually gasped. "There's more?"

This place was like a dream.

Rick chuckled. "I'm glad my book collection impresses you, Detective."

She bit her lip trying to hide the smile spreading across her face. There was something about the way he said that - Detective - that sent tingles down her spine.

She shook her head, ignored the flush of heat in her cheeks.

"First of all, this isn't a book collection, this is a damn library," she gushed. "And second..."

She turned and moved toward him.

"I find many things about you - much more than just your book collection - impressive, Rick."

Rick smiled, and the tingles were back; dancing through her entire body.

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

She stepped back to the book shelf, trailed her finger along the spines of the books until she found what she was searching for.

"I think I've heard of this guy before," she joked as she pulled one of Rick's novels from the shelf. She flipped open the book, looked at his portrait on the inside of the dust jacket. "Cute," she accidentally said out loud.

"Cute?" he scoffed, evidently not impressed by the compliment. She couldn't help but smile.

"Can I borrow this one?" she asked, holding the book up to show him.

"Uh, sure." He narrowed his eyes, confused. "But that's the last one of the series," he informed her.

"I know. The bookstore near the precinct didn't have this one in stock. They're getting one in for me but-"

Her words fell silent as she looked up at him, saw him looking at her with what could only be described as utter adoration.

"What?" she asked, a nervous laugh escaping her.

"You bought my books?"

He was... surprised. As if he hadn't expected her to want to read his work. "Of course," she said as she shrugged.

His response was instant. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

"I would have gotten you copies."

Everybody wants something from me.

Kate sighed. "I know it's silly and one book sale probably doesn't even register for a bestseller like yourself, but I wanted to be... supportive, I guess."

Rick smiled, allowed the sincerity of the moment to soak in.

"That's not silly," he said. "I appreciate that you wanted to do that for me."

"Well... I appreciate you." She hugged his book to her chest. "Seriously. I'm really glad I met you."

"Me too."

She could have stayed gazing into his eyes for an eternity, but as each second passed - and the butterflies in her stomach grew stronger - she knew she had to leave.

"I should-"

She swallowed, dropped her eyes to the book she was clutching.

"Thanks for this," she said as she held the book in the air. "I'll return it as soon as I'm done. I'm not sure when I'll get to it, though."

"Take your time." He smiled. "I don't think I'll be needing it anytime soon."

"Talk tomorrow?"

His eyes flicked to the clock on his desk, then back to Kate. "Today, technically."

Kate smiled and rolled her eyes. "Get some sleep, Rick." She stepped forward and placed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll talk to you later."

Chapter Text

He kept his eyes on her as she fixed her gaze on the small, round café table between them.

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly, unsure of what else he could say.

She nodded slowly, but his apology was pointless: it couldn't change the past. "I'm hurt, Rick."

"I know."

"I just- I didn't see it coming."

Rick placed his hand over hers. "You know that I would never intentionally hurt you. I thought I had more time."

Finally, finally she looked up at him. "More time?" she asked.

He looked at the book that she had placed on the table, noted the edge of the bookmark that stuck out from the last few pages.

"I mean; you only borrowed the book the other day! And you said it might take a while for you to get through the series."

Kate shrugged. "I had already read most of them."

He straightened his posture, smiled proudly. "Really? D'you like 'em?"

She glared at him through the corner of her eyes. "Seriously?"

"I mean... before Derrick, you know?"

"You mean before you killed him?" she asked angrily.

Rick sighed. "Yeah."

She took a deep breath and leant forward, elbows on the table.

"Tell me it's a dream or something," she said, her voice suddenly so much softer than it had been.

His silence was anything but reassuring.

"Richard Castle!" Her eyes were wide, voice pleading. "Tell me it's a dream," she repeated.

"Kate." He leaned forward until his face hovered by hers and looked her in the eye. "One thing you need to know about me is that I do not lie to the people I care about."

With a huff she dropped her face into her hands and whined. "Ri-ick!"

"You're almost finished," he pointed out, sliding the book back toward her. "The worst is over now: you can do it."

"He was my favourite," she said as she pulled her head up and pouted at him.

"I'm sorry," he said... again.

But the smirk on his face said otherwise.

She narrowed her eyes at him, swiped the book up from the table and stuffed it back into her bag.

Rick's phone began to ring and he pulled it from his pocket, sighing when he looked at the caller ID.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"All good," she assured him, thankful that (for once) it wasn't her having to answer calls or be summoned away.

"Hi, Gina," Rick practically groaned into his phone.

Her eyes flicked toward him as her stomach flipped. She hated this: the sick feeling she got whenever his publisher's name was spoken. Because that's all Gina was to him now; his publisher. He had promised.

But then again, so had Adam.

She shifted in her seat, busied her hands with her empty coffee mug and pushed that bitterness deep, deep down.

"You're right, this is very last minute," Rick said to the woman on the other end of the line. "I'm kinda busy at the moment."

Kate sighed, she could already hear the defeat in his voice. She braced herself for the inevitable: their afternoon together was coming to an end sooner than she had hoped.

Momentarily she wondered if this was how he felt every time her phone rang, every time she had to rush off to a scene or cancel their plans because of work. If it was, she owed him big time for being so understanding, for never adding to the guilt she felt.

He really was too good to her.

"I'll ask, but I make no promises."

Rick dropped his phone from his ear and covered the speaker with the palm of his hand.

"Do you feel like crashing a Black Pawn event with me this evening?" he asked quietly. "Free drinks and hors d'oeuvres. We just have to be there, smile and look like we're having a good time."

He was bargaining; he wanted her there with him.

"So, we're room fillers," she clarified.

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's a launch party for Alex Conrad's new-"

"Alex Conrad?" she interrupted excitedly. "I love his books!"

"So, you're in?" he asked, hopeful.

Kate nodded. "Yes!"

Rick rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his phone, opting to put it on loud speaker instead of pressing it back to his ear.

"We're in," he informed Gina. "But you owe me."

"You wanna talk about who owes whom? When was the last time you actually met a deadline, Richard?" Gina retorted. "Just be there by five."

Kate checked her watch and grimaced when she saw the time.

"Yeah, yet another deadline I'm probably gonna miss."

"Richard..." Gina's voice trailed, her warning left unverbalised but still effective.

"Leaving now, see you soon, bye!" Rick hung up quickly, then looked at Kate. "Did you drive?"

Kate shook her head. "Subway."

"My car is just up the road," he told her. "Your place first?"

"Sounds good."

Kate paused for a moment, smiling to herself as she savoured the feeling of Rick standing behind her, his hand on her lower back.

He was so comfortable with these gentle touches, his hand on her: on her back, or brushing against hers as they walked, or tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. He'd find any excuse to touch her. And if she were to be totally honest; she loved that.

It never felt forced, never felt like he was trying for more, trying to rush her. It just felt... comfortable.

She slipped her key into the lock and turned it slowly. She knew that as soon as they stepped inside he would remove his hand from her; she already missed it.

She pushed open the door and the sounds of soft music and joyous laughter filled the air.

"Look who decided to join us!" Lanie cheered as Kate entered the apartment, Rick following close behind.

"And she brought Writer Boy," Jenny added, pleased with the idea of extra company.

"Hello Ladies," Rick greeted as he looked at Kate with a smug your friends like me grin, earning him an eye roll in response. "How are you?"

"We aren't staying," Kate informed her friends as she made a beeline for the couch, her temporary bed. "I just need to get changed."

She knelt by the couch and slid a large suitcase out from behind it.

"Drink?" Ryan offered Rick, already holding out the chilled bottle of beer.

"Oh, thanks." Rick moved further into the apartment, toward the group huddled around the dining table.

"Is this one okay?" Kate asked.

Rick turned back toward the living area where Kate stood holding a blush pink, knee length cocktail dress against her body.

"It's perfect," he said with a smile.

She narrowed her eyes, certain that she could have held up a burlap sack and he would have said it was perfect. She turned her focus to her best friend.

"Lanie?"

"You guys going on a date?" Lanie asked. Her voice teased, but her smile was hopeful.

"It's not a date." Kate uttered the words for what felt like the hundredth time this week.

"I got roped into going to a book launch party and, thankfully, managed to convince Kate to come with me," Rick explained.

"Alex Conrad," Kate told Lanie excitedly.

Lanie's jaw dropped. "I love his books!"

"Ooh, me too!" Jenny added.

Rick grunted and grimaced, not even trying to hide his obvious displeasure over Alex Conrad's apparent fan club. The girls were giddy.

Alex Conrad wasn't that good.

A hand on his bicep pulled his focus. Kate, now at his side, looked at Lanie.

"The dress?" she prompted her friend.

"It's great," Lanie complimented. "Do you need shoes?"

"Do you mind? I only have boots."

"Not at all." Lanie slipped out from her seat and grabbed Kate's hand. "Come with me."

"I'll be quick," she promised Rick as Lanie led her toward the bedroom. "Be nice!" she called in the boys' direction, pointing an accusatory finger at Esposito.

Esposito's jaw dropped in exaggerated offence. "I'm always nice," he mumbled. "Right, Castle?"

"Of course," Rick agreed.

Ryan snickered and exchanged amused glances with his future wife.

Jenny cleared her throat and patted the empty seat beside her. "Come, sit."

Rick moved closer, scanning the binders and informational pamphlets spread out across the table. Florists, caterers, DJs and bands...

"Wedding planning?" he asked, connecting the dots.

His eyes flicked up to the couple.

"My sister is supposed to be helping with the planning but-" Jenny stopped and inhaled deeply.

Ryan placed his hand on her thigh and smiled. "Let's just say there's been a few... creative differences," he explained.

Rick winced. Having been through this - twice - he empathised.

Reading the writer's expression, Ryan asked: "You've been here before?"

"Twice."

"Any advice?" the younger man asked.

"Only do it once," he quipped, much to everyone's amusement.

"That's such a dreary outlook, Castle!" Lanie remarked as she walked back out to the living area. "I had you pegged as more of a hopeless romantic type."

"Ah, you haven't met my ex-wives," Rick replied without a second thought.

"There's nothing wrong with your ex-wives!" Kate argued, appearing from Lanie's bedroom.

She was a picture of exquisite beauty in the neutral pink dress that hugged her chest and flared at her waist; material that looked so soft he just wanted to reach out and touch it, tangle his fingers in it.

"Other than their taste in men, apparently," she added with a smirk.

Rick glared at Kate, but it held no weight when his own smirk broke through the façade.

"You're not really in a position to be judging their taste in men now, are you?"

Kate's jaw dropped. "I claim no responsibility for the things I do while drunk," she defended playfully.

"You weren't drunk when you tracked me down a few days later," he reminded her with a beaming smile, knowing he had 'won' the argument.

"Touché," she conceded.

She ducked down and grabbed her make up bag from her suitcase before using her foot to slide the suitcase back behind the couch.

Rick's eyes followed the line of her leg, watched the defined muscles of her calf flex under the white ribbon ties of the heels she had borrowed from Lanie.

"You ready?" Kate asked, tucking the bag under her arm.

Rick rose from his seat. "Mmhmm."

He swallowed down the last mouthful of his drink and tossed the bottle in the recycling tub by the kitchen bench.

"Thanks for the drink," he said as he walked toward Kate, wrapping his arm around her waist as they both headed toward the door. "Good luck with the wedding planning."

"I won't wait up," Lanie called out as Kate practically pushed Rick out the door.

"Eyes on the road," Kate warned, her eyes glued to her reflection in the small vanity mirror behind the sun visor.

She hadn't looked in Rick's direction once but she could feel his eyes burning into her as she applied her makeup. She couldn't deny that she loved the way his attention was always on her, but now was not a good time to be allowing himself to be distracted by her.

Her stomach flipped at that thought. Oh, the ways she could distract him...

"Sorry," he mumbled as his eyes returned to the road in front of them. "I just- how do you do that so perfectly in a moving car?"

She smoothed her finger across the skin under her bottom lip, cleaning up any small smudges of her lipstick, and shrugged. "Practice, I guess."

Satisfied with her efforts, she slid the cover back over the mirror and looked toward Rick.

His eyes darted away from her to focus on the road, an attempt to avoid being caught staring... again.

"Are we going to get there in one piece?" she snarked.

"I'm focussed," he insisted. "Promise."

Rick stared intently at the traffic before them, frowning at the sea of brake lights as he slowed to a stop.

"You know," he started, cautiously transitioning to a conversation topic that had occupied his thoughts for too long now.

It wasn't any of his business. Not at all. And he knew he should probably just keep his mouth shut, but he had never been very good at that.

In his peripheral vision he saw her turn to face him, her full attention was his.

He turned to her and smiled softly. "I didn't make the connection," he admitted.

Her brow furrowed, confused.

"That staying with Lanie meant living out of a suitcase," he clarified.

"Oh, right." She shuffled back in the seat and moved her focus back out the windscreen. "Well, I mean, I appreciate Lanie taking me in but, you've seen her place. There's barely room for me, let alone all my stuff. Adam agreed to keep it for me until I find my own place but the rental market is super competitive right now and I just can't afford to buy in the city at the moment-"

"I know somewhere," he interrupted.

She turned her attention back to Rick, curiosity piqued.

"A buddy of mine just got married," Rick began to explain as he began to drive again. "He and his bride are going on some world tour honeymoon."

"Sounds nice," she mused.

"Yeah. They'll be gone for at least twelve months. He has a little studio apartment in Lenox Hill that he want to sublet while they're travelling."

"Lenox Hill?" she repeated incredulously. "Seriously, Rick, how much money do you think I earn?"

"It's affordable, I promise. He's, like, a tech genius and has more money than sense; he offered me the place for my mother, but she - and I quote - isn't looking for 'handouts'." He shook his head at the idea: she sure as hell didn't mind taking handouts in the form of free rent for the past three years. "He's not looking to make money off this place. I can give him a call, see if he's still looking for someone. I'm sure he'd be happy to work out a fair rate."

"Really?"

"I'll call first thing tomorrow," Rick promised.

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "So much."

He ushered her into the loft, his hand on her lower back.

"I'll be quick," he promised. "Make yourself at home."

He crossed in front of her on his way to his bedroom; his hand gliding from it's position on her back, around the curve of her waist and across her stomach.

Caught in some magnetic pull and losing the battle of fighting overwhelming urge to follow him, she stepped closer and her hand reached out for his. Her fingertips had grazed his wrist before she realised what she was doing and halted.

Rick looked back at her over his shoulder, smirk on his face. Her composure had faltered and, for the first time, she couldn't blame it on alcohol and lowered inhibitions.

"You okay, Kate?" he asked slowly, innocently.

As if he hadn't done that on purpose.

As if he wasn't testing the waters.

She pressed her lips into a fine line. "Mmhmm," she hummed, thankful that he didn't push it and continued on his way.

Once he had disappeared from view, she exhaled and shook her head.

"Get it together," she whispered to herself.

She stood awkwardly in the entrance, settling into the silence of the loft. The low, dull drone of city traffic was barely audible with the windows closed. Noise from neighbouring apartments was non-existent through the thick walls. No, this place was about as quiet as they come in the city. Moving further into Rick's home, she browsed the framed photographs that were scattered through the loft: some hung on the walls, others displayed proudly on shelves and countertops.

She picked up a colourfully decorated carboard frame from the sideboard behind the couch and studied it. The photograph inside - a much younger Rick cradling who she could only assume was a baby Alexis - had her heart melting into a puddle. Rick looked at the tiny baby in his arms with such pride, such love. The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was nothing like the playful smiles Kate was growing used to; it was one reserved only for his little girl.

Her thumb delicately traced over his face and she smiled. She couldn't help but wonder what he was like as a father, curious about this side of him that she was yet to see.

"We might actually get there by five." His voice - filled with a sense of accomplishment - called out as he came out from his room, buttoning his cuff.

Kate placed the frame back on the sideboard and turned her attention to Rick, her eyes drifting down the length of his body. He looked dashing; dressed in a grey, slim fit suit. Not quite as fancy as his black tux from the other night, but handsome nonetheless. As her gaze slowly moved back up his body her arm wrapped around her abdomen, trying to settle the flutter of butterflies within.

"Need help?" she asked, gesturing to his hand that still fumbled with the button that so stubbornly wouldn't slot into it's hole.

"Please," he relented, holding his arm out and moving closer to Kate.

He watched her intently; her brow furrowed in concentration as the small plastic disc slipped from her grasp.

"See, it's not just me," he said teasingly.

A slight chuckle slipped from Kate before she forced her smile into a scowl.

"Shut up. The button doesn't fit through the hole," she explained, trying again.

She tugged on his wrist, pulling his arm closer and - with a little determination - she got the button through the hole.

"There!" she celebrated.

With a bright smile she looked up at Rick. Having been so focussed on his cuff, she hadn't noticed that he had moved so close. In hindsight, she should have realised that tugging on his arm, moving it every which way to try and leverage the button through the hole would obviously have meant he would have to move, too. But still, the newfound proximity momentarily stole her breathe away.

"Thank you," he said softly as he gazed into her eyes, entranced.

The rattle of keys on the other side of the front door snapped them both out of their trance and, as the door began to open, Kate took a step backward to create some much needed distance between her and Rick.

She wasn't sure what had come over her in the past hour, but she needed to get a grip... and fast! It was going to be a long evening together if she couldn't keep herself in check.

"Alexis," Rick greeted as two young girls walked into the loft.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Mr C!" the second girl greeted cheerily as she made her way into the loft.

"Hi, Claire." Rick moved toward the teens, embraced his daughter. "How was school? I thought you guys were going to be studying at Claire's house tonight?"

"Didn't mean to crash your date, Mr C. My 'rents are out of town so my brother is throwing a party. We figured we'd get more studying done here," Claire explained.

Alexis looked past her father, to Kate. "Sorry."

Rick turned to face Kate, a hundred apologies painted his face. He held his arm out, beckoning Kate to join them.

She moved forward until his hand rested on her shoulder.

"Kate, this is Alexis," he introduced with a smile before motioning his hand toward the overly-friendly teen unpacking a bag of store-bought snacks at the dining table. "And her friend, Claire."

Claire looked up and waved before returning her focus to her snacks.

Kate waved to the distracted girl before turning her focus to Alexis.

"Nice to meet you." She offered her hand and Alexis took it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, too. I was starting to think Dad was going to keep you hidden away forever."

Kate looked at Rick through the corner of her eye. "I was just thinking the same thing," she remarked.

"You could have just asked to meet her," Rick commented under his breath.

"I did," Alexis reminded her father.

"Not you," he clarified, pointedly.

Kate brought her hand to her mouth, an attempt to hide her amused smile.

"Anyway, we have to go," Rick said, lowering his hand to Kate's back. "Call me if you need anything."

"Will do," Alexis said, waving half-dismissively as she walked over to her friend.

Rick rolled his eyes as he closed the door behind them. "Teenagers."

Chapter Text

Somewhere between leaving the loft and entering the town car, something changed. His demeanour, the energy between them: it was as if he had been filled with a sudden dread.

The first twenty minutes of the twenty-five minute drive to Black Pawn HQ was spent in near silence. Apart from the minimal polite conversation with his driver, Gregory, Rick's attention had been undividedly on his phone. If it weren't for the occasional sideward glance or distracted smile, Kate would have thought he had forgotten she was even there.

She watched him as he typed out yet another text; his thumbs furiously tapping away at his screen as if his life had depended on it.

She couldn't help but wonder if she had done something wrong, if maybe he hadn't been ready for her to meet Alexis yet. It was brief, polite, she didn't want to overstep. But she also didn't want to come across as cold or uninterested. She had never done this before, never dated someone who had a child, and she didn't know what the expectations were.

"Your eyes are like laser beams," he quipped as he tucked his phone into the pocket of his jacket. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time in what felt like hours. "I can feel them burning a hole right through my brain."

Her stare dropped to her hands, fidgeting in her lap. "Sorry."

Rick reached across the distance between them and placed his hand over hers.

"Did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?"

She smiled, her nerves calmed by his touch.

He had told her: three times already. But she didn't think she would ever get tired of hearing it, of the way he studied her, appreciated her as though she were a work of art.

When he wasn't too distracted, that was.

"You're not too bad yourself," she responded.

She couldn't miss it: the flex of muscles as he clenched his jaw, desperately trying to refrain. Again, she found herself wondering: what exactly it was that was occupying his mind. What was he holding back?

"There's going to be press," he blurted.

She looked at him confused.

"At the launch," he clarified. "There'll be a red carpet out front: a few enthusiastic fans, photographers for local papers."

Her image had appeared online and in gossip columns too many times recently; mostly on Richard Castle fan pages but her Page Six appearance had brought her a fair amount of unwanted attention. From light-hearted teasing from colleagues to the quiet, warning 'you know his reputation, right?' from her extended family, she'd never felt so scrutinised for the people she chose to associate with.

"I asked about a back entrance but you can only access it via an alley so we'd have to pull up out front anyway."

"Oh." Her voice failed her while her mind was in a frenzy.

A back entrance.

Away from the press.

To remain unseen.

There was a small flicker of doubt in her mind: a soft but persistent voice that told her he was ashamed, hiding her.

It was what she would prefer, if she was being totally honest: being hidden away. To walk a red carpet - to literally parade this undefined relationship - would be to leave herself so vulnerable, open to public inquiry and judgement. Even a small amount sacrificed privacy was, in her opinion, too much.

But she understood that, for Rick, this was just a part of life.

This was a part of the deal and it was a small price to pay to be able to spend the evening in his company.

"Is that why you've been so quiet?" she enquired. "Because my photo will be taken?"

"I- I'm sorry," Rick continued nervously. "I didn't even think- I should've said something earlier."

The slight stumble of his words and the concern that swirled deep in the steel blue of his eyes dissipated that flicker of doubt in its entirety. He was thinking of her. Always thinking of her and trying to find ways to accommodate her, to make her comfortable.

"It's fine," she reassured him as she squeezed his hand and offered him a small, warm smile of gratitude.

"Are you sure?"

Kate nodded.

"The cameras aren't a constant thing, though... right?" she asked, a nervous chuckle slipping from her throat. "You said it got crazy during the tour, and obviously they organise press for events like this but-"

"It's not all the time," he promised her with a smile.

She let out a relived sigh. "Okay," she whispered as she turned her attention to the buildings that passed by outside her window. "Good."

"Seriously, we can bail. I am more than happy to go back to Lanie's and watch Ryan suffer through a night of wedding planning," he joked.

Kate laughed at the thought, but shook her head. "I don't want to share you with them tonight," she confessed.

She looked down to where their hands remained joined.

"And even if I did," she continued. "As if I would pass up the opportunity to go to Alex Conrad's book party!"

Kate smirked, watching through the corner of her eye as Rick rolled his eyes and turned his focus out his own window.

"And to see the world from your point of view for a night," she added after a few moments of silence.

"This isn't really my point of view," Rick told her, solemnly. "It's Richard Castle: bestselling author's."

"Aren't you Richard Castle: bestselling author?"

Rick turned his head in her direction, his eyes locked to hers and - in a moment so raw, so authentically vulnerable - he confessed: "Not when I'm with you. With you I'm just... Rick."

Until this moment she hadn't realised that this was everything she had wanted: to be a safe space for him, to be someone that he could be his true self around, someone he could trust was genuine in her intentions.

"I am really good at working the crowd, though," he added in jest to lighten the heaviness that had settled in the air.

Kate smiled and huffed out a small laugh. "I bet."

Gina hadn't been kidding when she said there had been a record turn out this evening.

Rick was thankful for the head's up message she had sent that had given him a few minutes to prepare Kate. He could sense her anxiety building as she looked out the window to the crowd of people lining the carpeted walkway into the building.

"A few enthusiastic fans, hey?" she said, her tone of voice highlighting exactly how unimpressed she was by his understating.

But it wasn't intentional. His own launch parties - although wildly successful - had never seen crowds like this before. That was a bitter pill for Rick to swallow.

"I'll get your door," he mumbled as he pushed open his own door.

The low roar of the crowd's cheers bulldozed it's way through the silence of the car, filling every inch of space around her until she felt the pressure sitting heavy on her chest. Rick's door closed behind him and she was given just a few short moments of privacy to calm her racing heart. Kate inhaled deeply and prepared herself for what she hoped would be a swift entrance.

The door opened and Rick's hand reached out for her. "You ready for this?"

She stared at his open palm, considered - just for a moment - that maybe she wasn't ready. But when she looked up at his face, the gentle reassurance in his eyes and the warmth of his smile calmed her nerves.

"Ready," she confirmed with a smile as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to assist her out of the car.

The atmosphere assaulted her: camera flashes, blinding; the cheer of adoring fans, deafening. As her senses adjusted, the Brownian noise of the crowd turned to cheers of his name.

It's Richard Castle!

Rick, over here!

These people adored him, celebrated him even when he wasn't the man of the evening. A hundred strangers with one thing in common: their love for his words, his stories, him. On a superficial level she could understand why he had been drawn to this life; why he would seek out the validation, the fame and idolisation. The chaos was exhilarating.

He played the part so well, too. With his hand on her lower back he slowly guided her toward the chaos, his smile unwavering.

"Just keep smiling, I'll make this quick," he assured her through a forced yet charming smile.

"I'm fine, Rick." She stepped with him, matching his pace. "Just do your thing. Enjoy it."

His hand slipped to her waist and he pulled her closer to his side.

"Is this okay?" he asked as he looked away from the crowd and into her eyes.

She smiled and nodded.

Yes, it was perfectly okay.

"Richard Castle!" A husky female voice from within the crowd beckoned his attention.

Rick and Kate both turned to see a tall, slender woman with vibrant blue hair push her way toward the front of the crowd, tape recorder in hand.

"Abby-Mae Carter," Rick whispered to Kate as he began to cross the carpet in the woman's direction. "She runs Books 2 Die 4 dot com. Not a huge fan of me personally but she always gives me pretty objective reviews."

"That's... nice?" Kate chuckled. "Why doesn't she like you?"

"She gave Hell Hath No Fury a one-star rating," he explained. "I may not have been totally understanding at the time." Rick turned his attention to Abby-Mae and smiled. "Good evening, Abby."

"Richard," she returned with a smile. She held up the tape recorder and waved it slightly. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not."

Rick accepted a copy of his latest novel and a marker from a man near Abby-Mae, signed it and it returned it to the man as Abby-Mae clicked on the device in her hand and turned it on.

"Richard Castle," she began talking into it. "The latest instalment of your Five Families series, Capo Dei Capi, rocketed into the number one spot on the New York Times bestseller list. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Abby."

"Are you concerned about the possibility of Seriously Dead knocking you out of that top spot upon it's release?" she asked, bluntly.

Kate was stunned by the abruptness of the question, the lingering hopefulness in the woman's voice as she asked it. But Rick simply smiled and continued signing autographs for those standing around them.

"You know what? I actually had the pleasure of reading an advanced copy of Seriously Dead and-" Rick sighed and turned his full attention to Abby-Mae. "If my run at number one is over it's because Conrad has earned that spot. He's incredibly talented and I have no doubt in my mind that Seriously Dead is going to be a huge hit."

Abby-Mae smiled. "And to those who say Alex Conrad is riding your coattails?"

"While it was an honour to have been named his mentor and credited in the acknowledgements of Dead Serious, I assure you - as I have assured Alex - his success has nothing to do with me. He's worked hard for this, he's earned it."

The fans within earshot all began to clap in support of Rick's support and, soon enough, the endorsement had spread like a wave throughout the crowd, the rumble of approval surrounding them.

"That's all I need," Abby-Mae informed Rick. "Thank you."

"Always a pleasure," Rick said as he shook the woman's hand.

He began to guide Kate down the carpet, slowly inching closer to what he now deemed the finishing line.

"It sounded like she was trying to discredit Conrad," Kate commented in a hushed voice as they walked.

Rick stopped to sign another autograph, take another photo, and then they continued on their journey.

"No, she was trying to get me to say something bad about him," Rick explained.

They stopped again and he signed another book. Rinse and repeat every few feet.

"Why would you do that if you were his mentor?" she enquired.

"Because right now he's my biggest competition."

Kate caught her bottom lip on her teeth and furrowed her brow. She didn't know much about this world, but she did know that Alex Conrad was just finding his feet within it. The idea of a renowned author such as Richard Castle being in competition with the newcomer seemed unlikely. But she could see it, the small glint in the depths of his eyes: he was threatened, worried.

She sighed and leant into his side. "I think you handled that well. Very diplomatic."

Rick chuckled and wrapped his arm around Kate's waist, squeezing her gently against him. "Maybe I was a politician in a past life?"

He took two steps closer to the building's entrance.

"Just one more," he announced to the fans. "Where would you like it?" he asked as he smiled at a young woman that had been trying to gain his attention for a while now and held his marker ready.

The lady's hands gripped at the neckline of her shirt and she lowered it slightly.

"Can you sign my chest?" she asked him, practically vibrating with excitement.

Rick paused, his eyes drifted toward his date for the evening.

Kate laughed. "Oh, please. Don't let me stop you."

He hesitantly stepped closer to the barricade and the lady leant forward.

"This just kinda feels like a trap," he mused aloud.

"I'm here to observe the Richard Castle in his element, right?" Kate smirked.

Rick nodded. "Well, here he is."

He signed his name to his fan's chest and ceremoniously capped his marker.

"Have a great night, everyone," he called to the crowd.

He rushed toward Kate, eager to get into the event so that they could slink away into the background, but her attention was stolen by something behind him.

"Oh, the little girl," she said as she pointed.

He turned around and noticed - for the first time - a young girl standing by the barricade, holding a copy of Capo Dei Capi.

He walked back to the girl and crouched so that he was at her level.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, softly. "I didn't see you there."

"That's okay," the girl assured him with a smile. "I'm only little."

Rick smiled at the girl's toothy grin. "How can I help you tonight?"

"Can you sign my mom's book?" she asked him. "It's her birthday tomorrow and she's your hugest fan."

"I can certainly do that for you," he said.

The girl passed the book through the metal-barred barricade that stood between them.

"What's is your mom's name?" Rick asked.

"Marina."

"Marina?" he asked to confirm. The little girl nodded. "And what's your name?"

"Lizzy."

"L-I-Z-Z-I-E?"

"L-I-Z-Z-Y."

"Y," he repeated, correcting himself before writing his message on the first page of the book. "To Marina," he spoke as he wrote. "Happy birthday. Lots of love, Lizzy and Richard Castle."

He closed the book and passed it back to Lizzy.

"Thank you Mr. Castle!" the girl said excitedly, hugging the paperback to her chest.

Rick looked at the people surrounding the girl, none of which seemed to be paying much attention to her.

"Are you here with an adult?" he asked her.

"Yeah, over here." He heard over the chatter of the crowd.

When he rose to his full height he saw a man standing a few rows back in the crowd.

"Is this your dad?" he asked Lizzy.

The girl shook her head. "That's Uncle Jimmy," she said, giggling.

Rick motioned to the people between the girl and her uncle. "Can we clear a path, please?"

The crowd split and Rick watched as Lizzy made her way back to Uncle Jimmy. When she turned and waved goodbye, he waved back with a beaming smile.

Out of all his fans, Lizzy was definitely a favourite.

"Let's get you inside." He turned back to Kate, grabbed her hand and made a beeline for the venue doors.

Chapter Text

"Shouldn't you be schmoozing or something?" Kate asked as she accepted the flute of bubbling champagne that Rick passed her.

He settled onto the stool beside her at the poseur table they'd managed to find unattended, tucked neatly to the side of the room. Close, but not too close. They could still mingle as people passed by, but they weren't in the very thick of the social event which allowed them the modicum of privacy he craved.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."

Kate placed her hand over his and leaned closer, bumping her shoulder against his arm.

"Oh, God no!" she laughed. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to sit with me all night."

"I want to sit with you. This is a rare opportunity for me: to be able to just be here. No speeches, no responsibilities, just you and me."

She brought the flute up to her lips, used the small but slow sip of champagne to hide the smile she couldn't stop from twitching at the corners of her mouth.

"Besides, we're in for a long night and I figured you'd have so much more fun if I got a glass or two of the good stuff into you before I drag you around to mingle with what might be some of the most boring people you will ever meet," he added.

Kate laughed. "That's so considerate of you," she said sarcastically.

Rick had been right: this wasn't the most interesting crowd of people. Not that she had doubted him, of course. And they hadn't really done all that much mingling - only interacting with a handful of people so far - but, if there was anyone in this room that had anything of interest to say, she hadn't met them yet.

There had been one man who had roused her interest the moment she had spotted him, however. He was elderly - had to have been approaching 70 years of age - but he walked with the vigour of a man decades younger. His blue and yellow spotted bowtie and matching suspenders had him standing out in the sea of people around him. She had been watching him on and off throughout the evening, finding amusement in the lively way he interacted with the other guests.

The man had smiled the second he spotted Rick from across the room, honed in on him and made a beeline for their table.

"Rick Castle, you bastard!" he shouted as he approached.

Kate turned to Rick, her eyes wide as confusion rendered her speechless.

"How the hell have you been?"

Rick rose from his seat and offered his hand to the man, who eagerly slapped his palm against Rick's and shook his hand enthusiastically.

"Good to see you again, Merle."

Rick took a small step backward and allowed Kate to come into view.

"I'd like you to meet my friend, Kate," he said, drawing the man's attention to her. "Kate, this is Merle."

Kate stood. "It's nice to meet you." She held her hand out, bracing herself for an overly-enthusiastic hand shake but to her surprise, Merle delicately folded his fingers around hers and lifted her hand to his face, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles. "Oh," she mouthed silently.

"A pleasure," the man drawled.

"You ready to make a deal yet, Merle?" Rick asked him, hoping that once he had the man's attention Kate's hand would be freed.

Merle laughed and shook his head. "You don't give up, do you?"

Rick turned his head to address Kate, who had hugged her hand to her stomach; no doubt trying to subtly wipe the back of her hand clean.

"Merle has a '62 Aston Martin Zagato," he informed her excitedly before turning back to face the man in front of them. "I've made several offers, but he refuses to sell it. Keeps trying to sell me a Camaro instead."

"Not just any Camaro, Rick! A 1969 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1." Merle clarified.

"you own a '69 ZL1?" Kate asked, her disbelief evident in the slight gape of her mouth. "That's a pretty rare car."

"It's a beautiful car," Castle agreed with the admiration that must have been written all over her face. "But it's not my Aston Martin."

"My Aston Martin," Merle corrected. "Why don't you come out to my place in the Hamptons? You can take your little lady for a drive. The ZL1 would make a wonderful gift."

"The little lady wouldn't let me pay for her coffee this afternoon," Rick complained. "What makes you think she'd accept a million dollar car?"

Kate pressed her lips into a tight line, attempting to mask her reaction to that hefty price tag.

"For you, my friend, only nine-hundred and fifty thousand."

"Your generosity is inspiring," Castle said sarcastically. "But I'll have to pass, sorry."

Merle shrugged. "Your loss," he muttered as he walked away.

"Sorry about that," Rick said once they settled back onto their stools.

"I honestly cannot tell if he likes you or not," Kate thought aloud, bewilderment evident in her smile.

"Yeah," Rick sighed. "Me neither. That pretty much sums up this life, though. You can't really take anything at face value."

"Sounds... exhausting."

Rick hummed in agreement as he sipped from his drink.

Kate did the same, sipping slowly to savour the bubbling sensation against her lips, the sweet fruity taste on her tongue.

"Speaking of exhausting," Rick mumbled through gritted teeth. He schooled his composure quickly, plastering a smile on his face as he grabbed Kate's hand and slipped from his stool.

"Come with me," he instructed her before leading her further into the crowd.

"Where are we going?" she asked as they weaved through the other party guests.

"You'll see," was all he offered in response.

The number of bodies they had to weave through began to lessen as they reached the opposite side of the room. On the very edge of the crowd was the man of the night: Alex Conrad.

"Alex!" Rick greeted the author like an old friend, bypassing the formalities of a handshake and opting for what she could only describe as a man hug instead.

"Rick," Alex returned the salutations. "Thanks so much for coming tonight. It means a lot."

"Wouldn't be anywhere else."

Kate watched on, intrigued. Both men were being pleasant, friendly, and yet there was an underlying tension to the interaction.

She adjusted her facial expression when Castle shifted his attention to her, ready to make introductions.

"This is my friend Kate." He placed his hand on her lower back and guided her forward a few small steps.

Alex shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"She's a big fan of your work," Rick added, sending a flush of heat to Kate's cheeks. "You wouldn't mind signing a book for her, would you?"

"Of course not." Alex smiled. "I've actually just been summoned by my publicist," he excused. "But I'll track you down when I'm done and I'll sign it for you."

"Thanks man, I appreciate it." Rick clapped his palm to Alex's shoulder and the younger man rushed off.

Rick sighed - as if that small interaction had exhausted him - and turned back to Kate.

"You can thank me later," he boasted.

Kate crossed her arms, bit down on her bottom lip as she took a moment to study her friend.

"You don't like him," she asserted.

It was a guess, she had nothing more than a gut feeling to back her up, but the microscopic flare of fear in his eyes was all the confirmation she needed.

"What?" he asked - the pitch of his voice just slightly off. "Sure I do!"

She arched her brow and waited for his confession.

"I do!" he insisted, but she didn't buy it.

She had watched Rick interact with enough people to know when he wasn't being 100% genuine. And he had literally just told her not to take anything at face value.

She relented; for now. "Okay."

Rick crumbled within seconds.

"He's outselling me," he confessed with a heavy sigh.

"Is he?" Genuine disbelief crinkled as her brow furrowed.

Alex Conrad had bulldozed his way to the top in record time after Jennifer Aniston had been photographed reading his debut novel just days after it's release. Within days his sales figures had increased exponentially and he had ridden that wave of good fortune for weeks. But that spotlight had faded just as quickly as it had appeared and, once the hype of Aniston's unofficial endorsement had worn off, he had fallen back in line with every other author that was waiting for their moment to shine.

He had a fairly solid fanbase - that was evident - but he wasn't a household name like Richard Castle.

"I didn't think the book was released yet?" she continued. "Isn't that the point of this party?"

"Pre-orders," he explained. "He's doing remarkably well."

Kate looked across the room, her eyes studying as she took a moment to watch Alex as he told a rather animated story to the group of people he was with.

"They're calling him the next Richard Castle," Rick continued and she turned her attention back to him.

He seemed... heavy. Burdened by a sudden weight that she could tell he didn't want to bear.

"It's like they're replacing me but I haven't even gone anywhere, you know?" Rick shook his head and laughed a self-deprecating kind of laugh. "It's stupid, I know."

"It's not stupid," Kate argued but he continued as if she hadn't said a word.

"And, really, I didn't mind. I'm happy for him."

She nodded. She believed that he wanted to be happy for the man, his self-proclaimed protégé. "But?"

Rick sighed but offered her a weak smile. "But... you didn't want to come to this until you found out it was for Alex. And then Lanie and Jenny were so excited about his stupid book-"

Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth but couldn't suppress her laugh. Rick was jealous.

"It's pathetic, I know."

Kate shook her head, leaned in closer. "Not pathetic," she assured him with a soft smile.

Her hand sought out his and she intertwined their fingers.

"You're right: I didn't want to come to this event. And, yes, the thought of maybe meeting Alex Conrad did sweeten the deal just a little bit," she admitted. Her free hand lifted, delicately touching her fingertips to his cheek. "But I'm not here for him, Rick. I'm here because I had planned on spending my evening with you and I wasn't going to let anything get in the way of those plans."

She kept her smile warm and her eyes glued to his as she waited for him to accept her words, to allow them to ease some of that weight he carried. She might not have had the ability to ease that professional pressure but she could sure as hell convince him that Alex Conrad was but a blip on her radar when it came to mystery writers.

"Come on-" She tilted her head back toward their abandoned table. "I want to tell you something."

They walked together, hand in hand, until they found their way back to their quiet little table. As they sat down a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses walked by, pausing momentarily to allow them both to take a glass.

"Do you have a comfort book?" she asked him after they both sipped from their third flute of champagne.

Rick's brows scrunched, his confusion so evident in the lines that marred his forehead. "A comfort book?"

"Yeah. A story that you go back to again and again. It's familiar, reliable, nostalgic maybe? Whatever the reason, it's comforting."

The lines on his face eased as his frown turned into an understanding smile. "Yeah, I do," he confirmed. "Casino Royale."

Kate smiled at the new insight he had just offered her. "Bond. Of course."

"Yours?"

Kate shook her head. "This isn't about me."

"No?"

"In a Hail Of Bullets," she said. "My mum read it at least five times. And that's just what I know of, she probably read it even more."

"Your mom read my books?" he asked, a sense of honour bubbling in his chest. Not only did she read them, she found comfort in them.

"Mhmm." Kate smiled as she recalled memories from so long ago. "I remember your books lying around the house. Your little portrait-" She held her finger and her thumb up to demonstrate the size of the headshot. "On the back cover staring back at me."

"Did-" Rick hesitated. She knew what he was about to ask her, why he might not have wanted to know the answer. "Did you recognise me that night?"

"No," she said softly, shaking her slightly. "Maybe subconsciously?" she added with a shrug.

"Subconsciously?"

"There was something about you, Rick. Something familiar. But I didn't know what it was. It wasn't until Ryan and Espo showed me the Page Six column that it all kind of fell together and I remembered." Kate sighed. "It sounds... stupid."

"No it doesn't," Rick assured her. "I mean, In a Hail Of Bullets was published twenty years ago: I barely recognise myself in those photos."

She smiled and leant in closer, didn't resist the urge to smooth her thumb across the lines that bracketed his smile. Lines that had deepened since that image on the back of his books, but the added detail to his face had only enhanced his features.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug. "I don't think you've changed that much."

Rick laughed. "That must be the effects of the alcohol starting to set in."

She smiled knowing that it very well might have been - she had always been less reserved with her compliments once her buzz kicked in - but it took more than a few glasses of slowly-sipped wine to have her talking nonsense. The gentle flutter in her belly and the slight flush of rosiness that tinted her cheeks and ears wasn't the first signs of drunkenness. No, it was the first signs of something much more serious.

"I told my dad about you." The words seemed to burst through her lips like a secret she'd had to keep for far too long.

"Oh yeah?"

She noticed the slight change - the subtle puff of his chest, the excitement in his eyes - as she hummed in confirmation.

"What did you tell him?"

Kate chuckled. "I spared him the details; told him that our paths just happened to cross and we got to talking and you're actually quite interesting."

"Had you doubted how interesting I could be?"

Just a hint of offence tainted his question, but she reassured him with the shake of her head.

"Not at all," she promised. "He said that if I was going to be friends with an author I should probably familiarise myself with his work."

Rick hummed thoughtfully. "I hear that helps."

"The next day he dropped off some of your books that he had dug out of a box of my mum's things."

"You'll have the whole collection before you know it," he joked.

"Actually... Lanie and I raided the book store near the precinct. Between the two of us we bought every title they had."

Rick shook his head slowly, his smile growing with each passing second.

"Lanie started with your earlier stories. She's just finished At Dusk We Die."

"And you decided to just dive right into the Storm series?"

Kate nodded. "I did start In A Hail Of Bullets but... my mum liked to annotate her books. I just wasn't ready for that, I guess. But when I am ready I think it will be nice to have those little notes there, you know?"

"Kind of like you can discuss the book with her," Rick added.

"Yeah. Is that weird?"

"No," he reassured her. "I think that's something really special, actually."

Rick remained lost in her eyes for a moment, relishing in the idea that maybe, just maybe his books could be a way to help Kate feel close to her mother again. He had found clarity in this moment: where he sat on some arbitrary list didn't matter and if someone was going to steal his spotlight, he would be thrilled for it to be Alex Conrad.

He didn't start writing because he wanted to be the best. He didn't start writing for the money or the fame.

He had wanted to reach people, connect with them. He wanted to entertain, to inspire.

He had forgotten that for too long.

"Thank you," he said with the utmost sincerity.

Chapter Text

Kate stood among the crowd as they gathered around and waited for Alex Conrad to come on stage.

He had just finished signing the book Rick had purchased for her. She had, of course, insisted that she would buy it herself but Rick was persistent.

Sometimes I just like to buy little gifts for my friends, he had told her. It's how I show I care.

Considering the earlier mention of a rare car as a gift, she figured letting him buy her a book really wasn't that bad.

Alex took the stage, his presence demanding of attention. The man really did remind her of Rick; the way he could completely captivate his audience, the boyish charm he exuded as he worked the crowd. She could see why he was apparently being dubbed the next Richard Castle.

Kate looked at the man beside her through the corner of her eye. Rick watched Conrad as he began to read to the crowd; a certain sense of pride in his expression. She hadn't doubted Rick earlier in the night when he had said that he was happy for Conrad's success, but this moment really solidified that for her. Satisfied that Rick was okay, that whatever thoughts of self-doubt had previously clouded his mind were no longer lingering, she turned her attention back to Conrad.

She listened intently as he read. She had been to book parties before - granted, none to this large a scale - and this part of the event was always her favourite. There was something so special about an author reading their own stories aloud, about getting to hear a story read exactly how they had imagined it.

Her thoughts drifted to Rick - as they so often seemed to do these days. She imagined what it would be like to hear his voice reading to her, to absorb his stories as deep, rich soundwaves rather than ink on a page.

She could summon the movie-like scene so easily in her mind: just the two of them in a log cabin somewhere; fireplace crackling in the background as they lounge in the radiating warmth. In her mind he would sit in front of her, lean back against her as he read the pages aloud. She would massage her fingers through his hair as she hung on his every word.

"Kate?"

The whisper of her name pulled her back to reality; the stage, the crowd that surrounded them, Conrad all came back into focus.

She turned to look at Rick. "Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hushed but concerned. "You kinda zoned out there."

She smiled. "I'm fine, just thinking," she reassured him.

He returned her smile. Curiosity flashed in the features of his face but he didn't pry, just went back to listening to Conrad.

The crowd began to applaud when Conrad finished the excerpt. Kate tucked the book she held under her arm, freeing her hands to join in the applause.

"Wasn't that amazing?" She heard a soft female voice say.

She turned her head toward Rick and noticed a young woman standing by his side, looking at him expectantly. Rick continued to clap - his eyes roaming, absorbing as much detail as they could - completely oblivious to the woman trying to converse with him.

Kate nudged his rib with her elbow to gain his attention, tilted her head to gesture toward the unknown person.

Rick followed her gesture and Kate saw the exact moment realisation lit up his face.

"Oh, yeah," he agreed. "Conrad's got talent, that's for sure."

The woman smiled and nodded her agreeance. "I just love the genre, you know? There's nothing better than a good mystery!"

Kate tried to ignore the flicker of irritation rising to her chest. An apparent lover of mystery novels not recognising one of the biggest players in the game? She just didn't buy that.

"Me too," Rick replied noncommittally.

"Jamielle." The woman held out her hand. "Jamielle Rueben."

Rick smiled and took the proffered hand to shake.

"Richard Castle," he introduced himself. "This is-"

"No way!" Jamielle gasped, cutting him off before he had the chance to introduce Kate. "The Richard Castle? Author of the Five Families series?"

And there it was, Kate thought.

"One and the same," Rick said with a camera-ready smile.

"I cannot believe I am actually meeting you!" Jamielle gushed.

From her position hidden behind him, Kate saw four digits wrap around Rick's bicep and squeeze.

"I just finished reading Capo Dei Capi," Jamielle continued excitedly. "Could not put it down!"

"Oh, thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Enjoyed it? I'm obsessed with it!"

Kate took a step back. It was obvious that she wasn't needed - nor wanted - for this conversation and the seats they had left abandoned across the room were calling to her. But Rick had already noticed the increase in distance between them, even without being able to see it, and he moved a hand behind his back, reaching for her.

She smiled and slipped her fingers through his. The irritation in her chest eased.

"Is it true they're making the series into a television show?" Jamielle continued. "Because, if you're looking for your Chiara, I'm actually an actress."

"You know, I can see the vision," Rick said encouragingly. "There's not gonna be a TV series, though. I have no idea how that rumour took off."

"Oh." Jamielle deflated, pouted theatrically. "Damn. Well, if they ever do, keep me in mind won't you?"

"I will definitely do that," Rick assured her, but Kate could hear the strain in his voice.

His words from weeks ago echoed through her mind: everyone wants something from me. Even strangers, evidently.

Kate stepped forward, leant her forehead against Rick's back as her hand flitted up his side.

Her touch was fleeting, gone before he had a chance to appreciate it, but he understood why. They were, after all, still standing in the centre of a crowded room.

He turned to face her, adjusted their intertwined fingers to a more comfortable position because there was no way he was going to willingly lose this last point of contact just yet.

"I'd watch it," Kate said.

Rick tilted his head slightly. "Watch what?"

"A TV show based on the Five Families series," she explained, reminding him of the conversation he'd literally just had. "I'd be interested in that."

"How do you know?" he asked with narrowed eyes. "You haven't even read the books yet."

Kate returned his frown, but her heart just wasn't in it - it couldn't be, not when his thumb rubbed gentle circles around the protruding bone of her wrist.

"Yeah, well, I'm still recovering from the last book," she grumbled. "I don't know if I'm ready to get invested in any of your characters again, Rick."

Rick laughed: she was kinda cute when she was mad. "I'm never gonna hear the end of that, am I?"

"Nope."

"Fantastic," he uttered sarcastically.

Kate used the hand not intertwined with Rick's to grab the book she had tucked under her arm.

"Hey, do you mind holding this for a minute? I just need to use the bathroom."

"Yeah, of course." He took the book from her. "I'll grab us a drink and head back to the table."

"Thanks."

She looked down at their still-joined hands, Rick's eyes followed.

"One of us is gonna have to let go," he stated the obvious.

Kate shrugged. "Or I could just drag you in there with me," she said jokingly, realising the connotations too late.

Her focus shifted back to Rick - his eyes already locked on her - and a frenzied flutter filled her chest, the kinetic energy turning to heat that rose to her cheeks.

"I like your style, Detective," he teased. "Fortunately, I am quite the gentleman so I won't read too much into that little suggestion of yours."

She pressed her lips into a fine line that barely concealed her smile, slowly shaking her head.

He so obviously enjoyed toying with her; but two could play this game of his.

Once again, she looked down at their hands, gliding her thumb along the plains of his palm before slipping from his grasp.

"That's a shame," she whispered.

Before Rick had a chance to respond in any way whatsoever, she sauntered away. Once she had the safety net of half a room's distance between them she looked over her shoulder.

Rick stood, watching: completely transfixed by her.

She had half expected Rick to follow her into the bathroom and, honestly, she wasn't quite sure if she was relieved or disappointed when he hadn't. Not that anything would have happened; there wasn't even a lock on the door. But the fact that she had even checked had her stomach knotting, her heart racing. She didn't know what it was about this man that made it so hard to keep her damn libido in check.

She took an extra moment for herself, standing at the basin letting the cool water run over her hands and wrists. It didn't seem to help at all.

The door to the bathroom burst open and two women walked in, arms linked as they giggled and chattered giddily.

Kate smiled to herself. The evident intoxication aside, these women seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was always nice to see.

"She's a better person than I am!" the first woman announced as she stumbled to the basin. She placed both hands flat on the marble bench, stared at her reflection in the mirrored-tile wall. "It would be a cold day in hell if I was ever that friendly with my ex-husband," she finished with a laugh.

Her friend stood beside her and began to gussy up her appearance, tucking longs strands of rich auburn hair behind her ear. "Your ex-husband isn't earning you millions," the faux redhead excused. "Rick Castle is the golden goose; she would have been a fool to drop him. He's made her richer than you and I combined!"

Kate stiffened at the mention of Rick's name, a sudden nervousness blooming within.

She turned off the tap and flicked the tiny beads of water from her hands into the ceramic bowl, ready to make her escape. She wasn't interested in overhearing anything else they might have to say about her... her friend.

"Hmm, do you think he's looking for wife number three yet?"

Kate looked up, unintentionally staring at the woman's mirrored reflection and she and her friend laughed. Despite the slight flare of possessiveness that stirred within, her gaze remained soft; surprised, not bitter. Something for which she was grateful for when the woman looked her way and they locked eyes through the mirror.

"What?" the stranger had asked defensively but before Kate had a chance to look away, to be ashamed, the woman smiled. "Have you seen the man?"

Kate smiled. "Yeah, I've seen him."

"Then you understand, right?" the woman inquired. "He is dreamy," she purred.

"I'm pretty sure he's single," the friend informed them, an encouraging smile on her face as she nudged the first woman with her elbow.

Without hesitation Kate shook her head. "I don't think he is, sorry."

She walked away before she had a chance to say anything else that she shouldn't.

Damn, she heard as the door swung shut behind her.

She wasn't sure why she had said that: Rick was as good as single. No, not as good as... he is single. She was the one who had made that decision, the one who had set that boundary and (mostly) kept from crossing it. Even though she knew - knew without a hint of doubt - that Rick wanted more, wanted her, it wasn't her place to intervene on his behalf.

She shook her head, shook off the interaction, and headed back to their table.

As she got closer she could see Rick sitting with two fresh drinks in front of him, Gina sat across the table. They were all smiles, the conversation seeming significantly more pleasant than the brief interaction she had witnessed outside the bookstore.

Rick looked up, smiling when he saw her approaching.

"Here she is." He pulled the free stool beside him out from under the table and Kate joined them. "You remember Gina, right?"

"Of course," she said with a smile.

Gina held her hand across the table in greeting. "Wonderful to properly meet you," she said.

Kate smiled. "You too."

"I do apologise for the last time our paths crossed; I hope I didn't come across as rude-"

"Oh, not at all," Kate pardoned.

"It's just- keeping Rick on a tight schedule is-" Gina sighed. "God, some days it's like trying to keep a five year old on track," she laughed.

"Hey now!" Rick scoffed, feigning offence.

Kate smiled. "Not an easy task, I imagine," she added playfully.

The easy interaction between the two women did ease Rick's concerns about this night, about the merging of two worlds, about Kate having to actually meet yet another ex-wife. It was sure as hell going a lot better than meeting Meredith had.

"I kid, Richard." Gina tapped the back of her hand to his bicep. "I know I can always count on you."

Kate smiled at the sincerity of the comment.

"I just wanted to say that I appreciate you both coming," Gina continued. "I know you had plans tonight."

"No, this is great. Thank you for-"

Gina held her hand up to stop Rick. "Save it, I know you don't wanna be here," she stated bluntly, but her smile didn't fade. "You being here is good for Alex, it's good for me, I appreciate it."

"Seriously, I'm happy to be here. You know I do anything I can to help you out. Besides, it evens the karmic scale and makes up for the other ninety-eight percent of the time that I'm being a total pain in your ass."

"That's not quite how that works," Kate commented under her breath.

Rick shrugged. "Seems to be working so far."

Gina rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Anyway, you've fulfilled your obligation and I appreciate it. There's a fleet of town cars out front, feel free to use one when you're ready to leave. Otherwise, enjoy the rest of your night."

"Thank you," Kate said and Gina walked away. "She seems nice," she added once they were alone again.

"Yeah," Rick agreed. "In a tightly-wound, do as I say or else kind of way."

Kate arched her brow.

"What can I say? I guess bossy is my type," he teased.

She swatted his arm playfully, chuckled at the implication that wasn't entirely wrong.

Rick sipped his champagne, ready to allow a comfortable silence to fall over them but as he looked back at Kate he could see the questions swirling in behind her eyes, the curiosity that lit them up. Reluctantly, he continued.

"Yeah, she's nice," he said, confirming her previous statement. "She's, uh, she's been a good friend to me over the years."

"That's good," she encouraged.

She'd had her suspicions that her own insecurities were causing Rick to downplay the friendship he had with his ex-wife, which was the furthest thing from what she wanted, so his honesty (even though reluctant) was appreciated. She was determined to find a way to show him that, no matter what, honesty was the most important thing.

She lowered her hand to his thigh, gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you for asking me to come with you tonight, Rick."

He placed his arm around her lower back, smiled as she leant her body into him. "I really didn't want to come," he admitted with a quiet laugh. His lips ghosted against the top of her head, the urge to kiss her so close to crumbling his restraint. "but I'm glad we're here."

She shifted to look at him, the little voice in her mind telling her to do what he so obviously wanted to, but her focus was momentarily stolen.

Over Rick's shoulder she saw the two women from the bathroom watching them.

The woman who had gushed about how dreamy Rick was looked absolutely mortified as she mouthed I'm so sorry across the room.

Kate smiled, shook her head to signify no harm done.

Rick looked over his shoulder, saw the two women that stood awkwardly, smiling at Kate.

"Make a friend, did you?" he asked as he turned back to face her.

"Not quite." She looked at Rick, could see the curiosity in his eyes. "I think I may have ruined your chances of picking up tonight, though," she joked.

Rick sighed forcefully. "Again?" he whined, but his smile only grew brighter.

"I'm so sorry." But the smile on her face was anything but apologetic.

"No, I get it: you don't wanna share."

"Share?"

"It's totally understandable."

Kate rolled her eyes and brought her glass to her lips. "Thank you for your understanding," she said before sipping from her drink.

Rick looked back out into the crowd, eyes searching for the ladies that had since vanished.

"What's wrong, Rick?" Kate asked, a hint of mischief in her voice. "Worried they told me all your sordid secrets?"

"They obviously skipped all the good stuff if you came right back to me," he whispered.

Kate placed her forearms on the table and leant in closer. "I guess I'm just a sucker for a bad boy."

Rick laughed but his mind drifted, wondering what exactly had happened in the few short minutes she had been alone.

He was certain that his name had been dropped from many mouths in many bathrooms over the years but he would be foolish to assume all of those conversations - if any - had been good.

"Seriously though, I hope you weren't made uncomfortable by anything they said."

She shook her head. "Honestly, they didn't say much at all. I think the word dreamy may have been mentioned-"

He pointed to his face. "Obviously," he joked.

"But they didn't know that I was here with you. I don't think they would have so freely gushed over you if they had known."

"Oh. That's- that's good," he said, surprised.

"Were you expecting something bad?"

"No, I just-" Rick sighed. "You're probably gonna hear things about me, Kate. Or read things; there's no shortage of stories out there and not all of them are good."

"I don't care about that, Rick," she assured him. "I know better than to buy into what some gossip columnist writes about you. And I really don't put that much credence into bathroom chatter, either, just so you know. Even if they had said something about you that had bothered me, I'd just ask you about it."

Because, with Rick, she knew that she could do that. He'd never had a problem with her asking, would happily answer any questions she had thrown his way. Even the tough ones. That's just how he was; how she wanted to be. Open books: both wanting to learn, both willing to share. It was new for her, the ability to venture away from safe and guarded. Even with Adam - the only other man to ever fully break down that wall of hers - it hadn't been this easy.

"I would love to know your story, Rick, every little detail of it. But I want to hear it from you, no one else."

Rick looked at Kate, absolutely enamoured with her faith in him, the budding sense of loyalty he felt for her (that he was certain was mutual).

He had absolute faith that this was leading somewhere. Somewhere great. But he was more than willing to wait, to take this detour into friendship first because, in the end, it could only make them stronger.

Despite his reputation, he'd always been a hopeless romantic - always the first to fall, always the one to put in the effort, always the one to get hurt - but he never let that get to him, never let the hurt change who he was. He knew that in life you love and you lose: that's just how it is. Hearts mend, wounds heal. But Kate was different. Already, the thought of one day losing her filled him with a sickness that scared him. It could only get worse - the harder he fell, the more it would hurt. There was a real chance that she could be the one to break him.

Still, he trusted her explicitly, he refused to shy away.

"You wanna get out of here?" he dared to ask.

The corner of her mouth curled into a crooked smile. "I thought you'd never ask."

Chapter Text

Five weeks really hadn't felt like that long. Even with the flirting, the wanting and the late night conversations, Rick had been so focussed on each small step forward that he hadn't even considered this to be in the realm of possibilities tonight. But now, as he led Kate toward the elevator, everything he had forced himself to ignore was suddenly rushing to the surface with nauseating force. The memories he had locked away in the name of being just friends ran through his mind like a highlight reel - her tongue and teeth on his skin; her breathless commands of more, less, harder, faster and the sweet little cries of pleasure he was rewarded with when he did exactly what she needed him to - set a fire in his core that had heat rising to his chest, his neck, even his ears.

They stepped into the elevator and he pressed the button to take them to the ground floor before impatiently tapping the door close button again and again.

Kate chuckled to herself. "You in a hurry or something?" she teased.

Rick shook his head, gave up on the button that obviously wasn't working and turned to face her. "No, not at all."

But his heart was racing, pounding so fast he could feel it in his throat, and his hands were practically twitching with anticipation as he fought the urge to touch her, to hold her. All in good time, he reminded himself.

Her eyes remained glued to his as they waited: one second, two seconds, three seconds... and he smirked.

"What?" she asked as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"You're beautiful," he thought aloud.

He didn't feel an ounce of embarrassment for the incidental spill of words from his mouth. In fact, when her cheeks began to resemble the blush pink of her dress and she tried to hide her bright smile behind the cover of her hand, he was glad he had said it. She was beautiful, truly beautiful, and she should be told so every single day.

Finally, the elevator doors closed and the carriage began it's decent. Kate stepped forward, wrapped her hand around the back of Rick's neck and pulled herself forward, claiming his lips with her own.

He shifted his hands to her lower back and pulled her body against his as he deepened the kiss but the book - that damned book - was in the way, keeping that small amount of unwanted space between them. He grabbed the book, pulled it (maybe just a little too hastily) from her arm and tried his best to ignore the little voice is his head that urged him to toss it away. It might be occupying his hand, keeping him from touching her as much as he wanted to but at least his mind was no longer fighting with the image of Alex Conrad literally coming between him and the woman he lo-

Liked.

He tried to pull back, startled by the near-revelation in his own mind, but Kate had looped her arms around his neck and was holding him so firmly against her. He backpedalled on his plan to break away, pushed her to the side and pinned her to the wall instead. She gasped as her back collided with the wall; the handrailing behind her thrust her hips into Rick's.

His hand slipped in between her lower back and the hard, wooden handrailing. "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "Just surprised," she whispered breathlessly before pulling his face back to her for a greedy, impetuous kiss.

He cursed under his breath as she arched her back even more, pressed herself flush against him and moaned into his kiss. He knew she liked the control she had over his body, how she could so easily provoke whatever reactions she desired from him. He'd learned that so quickly last time. But he had forgotten how quickly that power intoxicated her, how it darkened her eyes and quickened her breath and made the world around them fade away until there was nothing left but the two of them.

His body grew heavier against hers, just for moment as the carriage came to a stop. Reluctantly, he took a small step back, creating an acceptable amount of space between them for when the doors opened. When they did open, the foyer was empty but he knew better than assume there would be no one lingering outside.

He looked back at his date for the night, took in the sight of her thoroughly kissed lips and slightly mussed hair. He ran his fingers through the chaotic strands in an attempt to tame them.

"I guess I should try to keep you slightly presentable until we get home," he said, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"I'd appreciate that."

He took a small step back. "You ready?"

With her nod of confirmation, he led her out of the building. He kept his palm pressed to the centre of her back and a good few inches of space between them as they walked - just in case. The crowd lining the carpeted entrance had thinned significantly, but a few straggling photographers had stuck it in.

They ignored the white flashes as they walked toward the fleet of limousines waiting on the street.

"Mr Castle." The driver of the first limo nodded as he greeted Rick. He moved swiftly, opening the back door for them.

Rick held Kate's hand as she slipped into the the black leather seat before sliding in after her. He made sure he stayed close, sitting so that the length of his thigh stayed firmly pressed against hers. As he settled into the comfort of the seat he placed the novel on the seat across from them and laid his arm along the top of the backrest, behind Kate's head.

"Where to?" Their chauffeur asked once he was buckled into his seat.

Rick looked at Kate for confirmation before giving their driver Lanie's address. It wasn't like they could go back to his - Alexis and Claire would likely be up all night studying - and after Kate had looked into the price of The Morgan-Byrd Hotel's penthouse she had made it very clear that she would not be allowing that to happen again.

Not without paying my half first, she had said with a flirty wink. So, he knew he wasn't actually in 'trouble' for it but he wasn't going to push his luck right now anyway.

The driver nodded and rolled up the thick, black partition window before pulling out into the flow of traffic.

"She starts early in the morning," Kate said, holding Rick's wrist up so that she could check the time on his watch. "She'll be fast asleep by now."

"Are you sure?"

Kate shook her head, ignoring his doubts. She leaned into him, placed her hand on his thigh and allowed her fingers to splay across the muscle, brushing dangerously close to-

"Kate-" He practically growled her name, but whatever he had planned on saying had been so quickly abandoned when her fingers reached for his belt.

His hand dropped, covering hers and stilling her movements.

"Exactly how much privacy does that give us?" she asked him suggestively. Her eyes darted to the partition, then back to Rick.

She watched as the band of blue around his pupils thinned, hidden by the sudden burst of arousal that coursed through his veins like fire.

The arm that he had kept draped so casually behind her curled until his fingers tangled into her hair. He used his grasp at the back of her head to angle her before he leant forward and slanted his mouth over hers.

She flattened her palm against his chest and pushed him away, a cocksure smirk on her face. She pinched the button of his shirt between her thumb and forefinger, slipped it free of its button-hole restraint.

"Privacy," she prompted as her fingers traipsed lower, in search of the next button in need of freeing.

"Right. Well, he can't see us," Rick assured her, his eyes fixed to the motions of her nimble fingers at his chest. "Can't hear much either."

The second button popped free and she continued on to the third. "Much?"

Rick shifted slightly, leant in closer. "You'd have to get pretty loud for him to hear you," he teased.

Their eyes locked and a tantalizing heat rushed through her body.

"That shouldn't be a problem," she whispered before sealing her mouth to his.

The frantic weave of their lips was dizzying. It stole the breath from her lungs and thoughts from her mind, had her canting into him. His tongue was distracting as it caressed the seam of her mouth. She parted her lips, granted him access to explore deeper as she trained her focus on removing the strip of leather from around his pants. She pulled it free from the loops and haphazardly tossed it to the side.

His hand slipped under the skirt of her dress, mapped out the contours of her thigh and hips as he alternated between gentle caresses and the firm press of fingertips into her flesh. It didn't take him long to figure out how she wanted to be touched when every squeeze, every nip, every touch that threatened to mark her soft skin would draw out a satisfied hum or an encouraging hiss as he learned the delicate mix of pleasure and pain that she craved.

He folded his palm around the back of her knee and pulled it across his lap. She gasped at the sudden movement but shifted to straddle him. His hands dropped to his sides where her knees dug into the leather of the seat. He brought them up, allowed them the chance to roam her thighs and memorise the curves of her hips, the arch of her back, before gripping her ass and pulling her down to grind against his lap.

He opened his mouth against the curve of her shoulder, teased the sensitive spot there with the graze of his teeth and the sweep of his tongue before returning his attention to the cavern of her mouth, swallowing down the needy moan that she could no longer contain.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, body arched and pressed flush against his as she worked to slow their feverish pace with the languid slide of her tongue. Her hands parted the material of his shirt and - as she trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and chest - she shifted and lowered herself between his knees.

"Kate-" He wasn't sure exactly what he had planned on saying, but all thought left his mind when she cupped her palm over the bulge in his pants and squeezed.

"You did say I could thank you later," she reminded him, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

She knew exactly what she was doing and Rick was utterly powerless against her.

"Not what I meant," he said with a strained laugh.

She freed him from his pants and began to stroke him; slow and torturous and god he never wanted this to end.

"I can stop if you want," she teased.

"No," he groaned, the word slipping from his mouth too quickly to show any sort of control on his behalf.

"Good."

Engulfed in wet heat, his brain turned to jelly. His eyes fluttered closed, head dropped back against the seat as a low, rough groan slipped from his throat. Mustering his very last scrap of brainpower, Rick reached across to the control panel beside him and locked the partition.

She unlocked the door, inched it open as quietly as possible and looked around for signs of movement.

But it was dark and it was quiet.

Satisfied that Lanie was in fact asleep, she turned around to give Rick the green light but he had already read the smile on her face to mean all systems a go.

He cupped her face, kissed her fervently as they stumbled through the door and, once inside the apartment, he turned them both and used the force of their bodies to close the door. She emptied her hands - dropping the book, her keys and her phone to the ground beside them - then slipped her arms under his jacket and fisted the material of his shirt, pulling him in.

The caress of their tongues grew sloppy, less controlled as they lost themselves in the haze.

His hands set fire to her skin, even through the material of her dress, as they desperately roamed her body; back, waist, thighs. Lower, lower, lower until he pulled frantically at the material of her dress, lifting it so he could slip his hands underneath and she could feel the heat of his skin against hers. His touch ghosted along her thighs, peppering her skin with goosebumps and sending a shiver down her spine, then gripped her ass and pulled her hips against his.

She whimpered involuntarily as his kiss left her mouth, skirted along her jaw instead.

He paid special attention to each sensitive spot he found on his mouth's journey down her neck, using each moan and sigh to guide him toward what she liked most. His kisses trailed from her neck to her shoulders to her chest, only leaving her body long enough for Rick to lower himself to his knees. His mouth was on her again, placing open-mouth kisses to her legs; starting just above her knee and working his way higher. He lifted her leg over his shoulder, giving him more access to her inner thigh.

Kate's head dropped back against the door and her eyes fluttered shut, fingers tangled in Rick's hair as she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the sensations that had her body feeling so alive: the butterflies in her stomach; the contrast of his grip on her ass, so rough in comparison to the feather-light kisses against her thighs.

"Shower," she panted the half-command, hoping he could fill in the rest.

He turned his head, brushed his lips over the lace of her underwear and pressed a kiss to the barely there material before leaning back to look up at her.

Somehow through the haze of lust and arousal, she heard the distant click of a door.

Her heart skipped a beat, eyes flying in the direction of the apartment's one bedroom just in time to see the door open.

She slipped her leg off Rick's shoulder, tapped his arm to alert him because words just simply wouldn't come out.

"Oh, sorry," Lanie mumbled, still half asleep, as she wandered out of her bedroom rubbing her eyes. "Gotta pee."

Rick stayed on his knees, figured that it was best not to draw attention to himself as Lanie plodded across the apartment to the bathroom. When the door clicked shut behind her, Kate and Rick both released a breath they'd inadvertently been holding.

Kate slid down the door until she was on the floor in front of Rick. She began to laugh - loud and hearty - as an overwhelming mix of disappointment and embarrassment filled her.

Rick looked at her, his amused smile slowly turning to laughter too.

"I'm sorry," he said to Kate in between laughs.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She dropped her head to his shoulder, inhaled and exhaled deeply as her laughter subsided.

She shook her head and lifted it from his shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered the assurance, leaning forward to kiss him.

Rick kissed her back, his hands finding their place on her hips, guiding her as she gave into the urge to rock back and forth, grinding against his thigh. The friction sent sparks of pleasure through her and she moaned against his mouth. She was wired, so ready that just a few minutes of this would have been enough for her - enough to take the edge off, anyway - but she knew that Lanie would be making another appearance in just a few moments and the last thing wanted was to be writhing against Rick trying to get herself off when that happened.

"You should go," Kate mumbled against Rick's lips, but pulled herself closer and continued kissing him.

He hummed, apparently agreeing with her sentiment that their moment had passed, but his actions were just as conflicted as hers.

Finally, she pulled away, pressed three quick pecks to the corner of his mouth for good measure and smiled.

"Thank you for a wonderful night."

He shook his head. "Thank you." Reluctantly, he loosened his grip around her waist. "Are you, uh- you gonna be okay?"

She smiled. "I'll be just fine after a very long, very cold shower."

Rick practically purred at the images that filled his mind. "Think of me."

"Well that kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?" Kate brushed a kiss to his lips. "But I will," she whispered.

Rick stood, held his hands out to help Kate to her feet and then pulled her closer for one last kiss before heading out the door.

He stopped half-way, turned back to her. "You never ended up telling me your comfort book."

Kate huffed out a laugh. "Of course you're still thinking about that," she said, rolling her eyes. But he waited. "Alice in Wonderland."

"Hmm. Seems fitting," he said.

She wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but she could tell by the sparkle in his eyes that it was nothing bad.

She stepped forward, kissed him goodnight - but not like she had before. This kiss wasn't fuelled by lust or desire, just a genuine appreciation of the man standing in her doorway.

"Goodnight, Rick."

"Until tomorrow, Kate," he replied with a smile.

As he walked away, Kate shut the door behind him. She leant her back against the door and brushed her fingertips to her lips, smiling like an idiot at the memories replaying in her mind.

The bathroom door opened, a stream of light illuminating the apartment as Lanie stepped out.

"Look at you all smitten!" she teased from the doorway.

Kate shook her head but wouldn't try to deny it: she could feel her cheeks blushing. She pushed herself off the door and walked toward her friend.

"Now that I'm a little more awake, I do realise that I probably interrupted something there," Lanie began, apologetically.

"It's fine," Kate assured her, but Lanie waved her hand around not even listening.

"Call him back before he leaves," she said. "I'm going back to bed, I won't bother you."

"No-"

"I'll put on some noise cancelling headphones, listen to The Sounds of The Ocean or something."

Kate laughed. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine."

"Girl, you're crazy!" Lanie declared definitively, walking back to her bedroom. She stopped at the door, looked over her shoulder. "I love you, though."

"Love you, too. Goodnight."

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

.

.

Slow it down.

Take your time.

Breathe in deeper, breathe out slower.

He didn't want to rush through this. He wanted to savour every moment - every smile, every touch, every laugh - to feel every spark that electrified the air between them and to burn the memories of these moments into each corner of his mind. He wanted to remember each step of this journey; from strangers to friends, friends to something more.

He knew it was risky, allowing himself to believe that that's where this was headed. In fact, there was a small but persistent voice in the very back of his mind that insisted he didn't hope for more, that reminded him that Kate wasn't on the same page that he had been on for weeks now and allowing himself to dream about infinite possibilities could only end in one way: with him broken-hearted.

But the truth was simple: that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

For as long as Kate kept willingly giving, he would continue to gratefully accept whatever it was she was offering.

Her time, her friendship. Those two things had so quickly become an integral part of his happiness. Each text received, each late night phone call, each impromptu coffee date would leave him with a smile on his face for hours. With each conversation - whether recounting stories of her past or dreaming out loud about her hopes for the future - she would offer up just a little bit more of herself.

Her beautiful, intelligent, compassionate self.

Her mind, her body. And he couldn't help but believe, to hope, that she was readying herself to offer up just a little piece of her heart. A gift that he would gratefully accept, and cherish, and pray that there never came a day where she wanted it back.

He looked up from the meal he had just finished preparing and looked over to Kate. He had tasked her with the job of finding them something to watch for the afternoon; a job she seemed to be taking very seriously. She sat on his couch, feet tucked up underneath her, and scrolled through the endless options the streaming service provided them. His lips curved into a soft smile as he watched, noting just how comfortable, how at home she seemed within the walls of his loft.

"Have you seen The Bounty Hunter?" she asked, reading the title from the television screen.

He picked up the platter of quesadillas he had made - complete with home made guacamole and a Greek yoghurt dip - and began to walk toward the couch.

"No, I haven't," he answered as he rounded the black leather couch and eased himself down beside her. "Hope you're hungry."

"Smells amazing!" Kate shuffled closer and Rick balanced the platter across both of their laps. "So, you're good with this movie?"

"Yeah, sounds good," he confirmed absent-mindedly as he lifted his first quesadilla, wrapping the strings of melted cheese around the crispy tortilla.

With his approval, she pushed play and the movie began.

She settled in beside him, picked up one of the tortillas and scooped a small amount of guacamole onto it before taking her first bite.

"Oh, my God." She moaned as the flavours burst into her mouth.

Rick looked at her, smiled when he saw she had closed her eyes to really savour the taste.

"You can cook for me whenever you'd like," she told him once she swallowed the bite. He chuckled, appreciated her enthusiasm. "Seriously, these are so good."

"I'll happily cook for you," he said sincerely. "Anytime."

They allowed a comfortable silence to fall over them as they watched the movie and ate their lunch. Somehow, over this time, they had managed to drift even closer together. Kate sat against Rick's side, her body turned to face him. Her left leg remained tucked underneath her but her right leg had shifted, ended up draped casually over his right thigh with her foot tucked in behind his left calf. Like human pretzels, she never would have imagined this to be comfortable but, as she rested her head on Rick's shoulder, she wanted to stay there - perfectly still, all wrapped in him - for as long as she could.

Unfortunately, after her night of tossing and turning - caused by an equal mix of excitement and frustration - she was worried that if she stayed too still she would fall asleep on him. Not that she thought he would mind, but she did.

She inhaled deeply before lifting her head from his shoulder and leaning forward, slipping her legs free from their tangle.

"You all good?" Rick asked.

His voice was soft with the slightest, almost indeterminable croak and she considered that maybe he had been at risk of drifting off, too.

"I'm just going to wash this up," she explained, lifting the now-empty platter plate.

Rick took it from her hand and leant forward, placing it down on the coffee table. He leant back against the couch cushions and draped his arm over Kate's waist, gripping her hip.

"It can wait a minute," he insisted.

He leant toward her, pulled gently on her waist and she received the message loud and clear: the rough edge to his voice wasn't caused by fatigue at all.

She smirked as she moved her leg over his lap and shifted herself onto his lap. His hands made their way to her lower back, fingertips toying with the hem of her shirt.

"You are insatiable," she whined playfully.

She cupped his face and brought her lips to his, kissing him slowly.

He slipped his hands under the material of her shirt and smoothed them over her back, his fingertips tracing each ridge of her spine.

She sucked in a sharp breath and arched into him as goosebumps erupted across her body.

"Speak for yourself," he teased against the soft press of her lips.

She kissed him deeply, allowed her tongue to explore his mouth. All the while the tension in the air was building quickly; the increasingly familiar feeling of arousal coiled low in her belly and the heat of his hands on her spread under her skin like fire. She tilted her hips against him, moaned when the friction sent a jolt that seemed to electrify her every nerve through her body.

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed, ruefully breaking away from their embrace.

"I was fine," she defended. "Perfectly sated, actually."

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of Rick's mouth and a glint of playfulness in his eyes caught her attention.

"And now?" he questioned, having noted her choice of words suggested she no longer felt perfectly sated.

His hands flitted down her back, to her hips. He gripped her firmly, held her in place as he gently rocked his hips. Her eyes fluttered shut and a lust-filled sigh slipped from her lips.

Now? Now she would give him anything he wanted so long as he kept touching her the way only he seemed to know how. So long as he kept pushing her - poking and prodding and prying, learning everything he could - until he knew her as well as he knew himself. So long as he kept holding her; his arms a fortress around her, the only place she felt safe from the pain of her past, where the ruins of the future she had envisioned - ghosts of marriage, of children, of happiness - didn't haunt her like they did when she was alone.

And just like that, doubt changed everything. She took a shaky breath as guilt smothered the flames of desire that had burned hot and wild just seconds ago. There was a voice that took up residence in the very depths of her mind - one that wasn't hers, one who had a nasty habit of taking one fleeting thought and twisting it, moulding it into something it wasn't with such expertise she never really could tell - and it had wrapped it's poisonous vines around that one minor detail: like they did when she was alone.

In an instant, her fear of falling too hard and too fast had been replaced with an entirely new fear.

You are using him.

The voice echoed through her mind, sent a shiver down her stiffened spine.

He's nothing more than a crutch, a way to forget.

For a moment - no longer than a split second - she considered that perhaps there was some truth behind the accusation. Rick had come along when she was at an all-time low - broken-hearted, confused, lonely - and he this inexplicable way of making her feel good again. He had made her feel desired, made her feel unburdened and interesting and sexy and fun. He had made her feel like losing Adam wasn't the end of the world. But, even after all of that, she had made the decision to keep the story of them as just one perfect night.

She only went back on that decision after the darkness had crept back into her days. The heartache, the confusion, the loneliness.

You are using him.

Rick had been the perfect target, too. So sweet, so sure of her. He'd so willingly moved at her pace, kept every part of this relationship within her comfort zone. He was there when she needed him, gave her space when she didn't.

All on the unspoken promise that one day she would be ready: no longer grieving, no longer in need of healing, no longer scared to love without reservation.

But what if she could never love that way again? What if she was too damaged?

You'll never have what we had.

What if the memory of Adam was always there in the shadows of her mind? Always lurking, always poisoning her thoughts.

Rick deserved more. He deserved better.

Kate pushed against Rick's chest, created as much distance between them as she could but his hands on her waist held firm.

"Kate-"

"I need-" She stopped, searched the space around for the answer that just wouldn't form in her mind.

She needed, what?

To get away from him.

To stop this before it went any further, before it went too far and she ended up hurting him. That was the last thing she wanted to do: hurt him because someone else had hurt her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

His reluctance lingered in the air, but he dropped him hands from her body and gave her the space she needed. It terrified her, the way he so easily read her cues as if he could read her mind, but she was also eternally grateful for it. So found it so difficult to explain herself when her mind would switch gears like this: Rick's apparent talent for picking up on the sudden changes without an explanation sure made her life easier.

She brought herself to her feet and took several small steps backward.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. She forced a smile - a weak, unconvincing smile - to try and assure him that he hadn't done anything wrong, that he wasn't the cause of this sudden shift in mood.

"You said that already," he commented and smiled back.

His smile was full - much more convincing than she had managed - and he leant forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. She waited as he studied her, the heat of his searing into her skin and bringing a gentle flush to her cheeks.

"You okay?" he asked after several punishingly long seconds of silence.

She nodded, without thought. Because the gentle tone of his voice, the shimmer of understanding in his eyes, the reassurance in his smile: they all told her one thing. This friendship was real. It was complicated and confusing and unlike any other relationship she had ever had, but it was real.

Not a distraction.

Not a crutch.

Not destined to end in disaster.

In an instant, the panic in her heart eased.

"It's been a big day," she said. "I think I'm still just processing everything."

Rick nodded slowly and rose to his feet.

"You did like the place, right?" He stepped closer, but kept a safe amount of distance between them. "I hope you didn't feel pressured into-"

"No, of course not," she assured him. "The place is great."

"And... this?" He hesitated, swallowed dryly. "I hope you didn't feel any pressure there, either."

She shook her head. "No pressure."

"Regret?"

She smiled and stepped forward, shaking her head. "No regret."

Rick tentatively reached out and laced his fingers through hers. He watched as Kate's focus slowly drifted to their joined hands, the smile on her face slowly fading as troubled thoughts swirled in her mind.

"If it's too much-" he started, unsure exactly where he was going with that thought.

Obviously if she wanted to stop this, he would. He didn't want to but, for her, he would. She had been right when she said it had been a big day: so much had happened in the last 24 hours; a definite shift in the way they interacted. He wouldn't blame her if she felt overwhelmed by it and needed a moment to catch her breath.

"I just think that maybe we should have discussed this first," she admitted. "You know, what it means."

Rick shrugged. "It doesn't have to mean anything," he suggested. "Sometimes two friends who trust each other and enjoy spending time together might, on occasion, sleep together. Sometimes it changes everything but, you know, sometimes it just... sex."

She stayed silent as she looked into his eyes, tried to read each micro-expression on his face. He was giving in to her again, appeasing her need to take this slow, and she knew it.

"And you would be okay with that?" she asked, still studying his features. "If nothing else changed?"

He smiled. "Yes, I would be okay with that. For now."

For now. She could live with that.

Kate's attention was stolen by the sound of the front door unlocking. Rick narrowed his eyes, checked the time on his watch and then turned around to face the door just as his teenaged daughter walked through.

"Oh, hi Dad," Alexis greeted, a soft smile on her face. "Hi, Kate."

Kate smiled and waved to the girl, but Rick spoke before she had a chance to.

"Alexis? I thought you had a violin lesson this afternoon?"

"It was cancelled," she answered as she dropped her backpack by the door and made her way further into the loft.

"So you're actually home late?"

Alexis stopped by the kitchen counter. As she looked at her father an apologetic smile crossed her face.

"In my defence, I didn't think you'd be home yet. I just met a few friends at the little bakery near school."

Rick wasn't sure how to respond. On the one hand, his daughter had just spent almost an hour roaming the city when she was supposed to be in the safety of her seventy-something year old violin teacher's studio. Parenthood didn't come with a handbook but he knew he shouldn't be okay with that. On the other hand, however, he had always encouraged her to try the rebellious teen thing occasionally. She was remarkably mature, always followed the rules: he didn't want her to look back and wonder if she had missed out on too much by always doing what was expected of her.

He had always assumed that, when she did start bending the rules a little, it would be other people's rules. And that he would be there, the little devil in her ear, to egg her on as she did.

"Well, just let me know next time, I guess," he said in what was supposed to be a firm, authoritative voice.

Alexis smiled. "I will," she promised.

The girl continued her journey through the kitchen. She pulled a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator and placed it on the bench.

"So, how did last night go?" she asked curiously as she moved to the cabinet that held the glasses. "Did you get a chance to talk to Gina?" She looked over her shoulder to her father and his, uh... new friend. "Juice?"

Kate declined the offer with a gentle smile and the shake of her head.

"No thanks, Pumpkin. Last night was, uh, same as usual I guess: schmooze, drink, pretend to be paying attention."

Rick chuckled and Alexis rolled her eyes.

"And Gina?"

"Not my night, sweetheart," he reminded her. "I have a meeting with Gina on Monday, I'll discuss the changes with her then."

"Changes?" Kate asked.

"Dad has decided he wants to change the entire plot of his next book," Alexis explained with a grin that told Kate this wasn't a good idea.

Kate looked at Rick, confusion knitted in her brow.

"A few changes here and there are to be expected; it's all part of the writing process. But, seeing as I've already submitted several chapters that will now have to be rewritten, et cetera, I figured I should give her a heads up."

"Now, I might be wrong," Kate started, a smirk teasing her lips. "But this might be what Gina meant when she said keeping you on track was nearly impossible."

"Oh, she's not going to be impressed," Alexis added.

Rick held his hands in front of him defensively. "She said she was joking."

"Was she, though?" his daughter teased.

Kate brought her hand to her mouth to hide the laughter that threatened to spill from her lips.

Rick looked back and forth between the two.

"I don't like that you're ganging up on me," he complained.

But it was a half-hearted complaint, at most. In all honestly, he liked that there seemed to be an easy bond between Kate and his daughter, even if it was only superficial for now.

"Sorry," Kate offered as sincerely as she could.

But he didn't miss the way her eyes flickered across the room to meet his daughter's, the still-present flicker of mischief they shared before her attention found it's way back to him.

"Why are you changing the story, anyway?" she asked. "I mean, if you've already written part of it wouldn't it be better to continue with the story you have and save the new storyline for the next book?"

"Theoretically, yes. But I've got this idea in my head now and, honestly, I just can't write anything else," he explained.

"It's like an obsession," Alexis exclaimed theatrically. "He needs to write this story in the same way he needs to breathe."

"It's a curse," he said with a shrug. "And I have a source who can offer authenticity; someone who used to work for one of the families I'm writing about. I'd be an idiot to walk away from that."

"Wait, you're working with someone with actual ties to The Mob?" Kate asked incredulously. Surely not, surely she had misheard him, but the excited smile on his face told her otherwise and her stomach clenched. "Rick, that seems-"

She allowed her words to trail off - didn't want to throw the word dangerous around in front of his daughter - but she definitely did not like the idea of him being tangled up with these kinds of people. Not to mention the possible consequences she could face. An NYPD detective canoodling with an associate of The Mob? That's not a good look.

"It's a couple of letters, nothing incriminating and he hasn't named names - nor will I ask him to," Rick assured her. "It's better for my story if I'm not burdened by too many facts. Besides, I'm not stupid enough to get myself in any actual trouble."

And Kate almost believed him. Almost.

"The guy's serving a life sentence for the murder of an undercover cop," Alexis filled in the blanks. "But he insists that he's innocent. He wants dad to tell his story."

"Well, a version of it, anyway."

Kate smiled and shook her head. "I'll let you in on a secret, Rick: half the guys in jail are insisting they're innocent."

"I'm not saying I believe him," Rick defended himself. "I just know that I could tell the crap outta this story! It's got everything: intrigue, a killer plot twist-"

"Just-" Kate frowned, stepped forward to place her hand on Rick's bicep. "Be careful, yeah?"

He smiled. "Of course."

Alexis watched the small but sweet interaction with a smile on her face.

"Anyway," she said just loud enough to pull her father's attention away from the woman standing in front of him. "I'm just going to get changed and then I'm going to Claire's," she announced as she dumped her empty glass in the sink.

She looked at her father, then to Kate, then back to her father.

"I could probably stay the night," she said, not at all subtle in her suggestion.

Kate's hand dropped from Rick's arm, a shy smile tugging on her lips.

"Are her parent's still out of town?" Rick asked, already knowing the answer.

Alexis nodded and he smiled apologetically.

As much as he trusted Alexis - hell, he even trusted Claire - he did not trust the older brother. The kid who throws a party as soon as his parents were out of town was too cliche.

Rick knew that kid. He was that kid. He didn't trust that kid to be the only 'responsible adult' in the house.

"Sorry, kiddo," he said with a sigh.

"Fine," Alexis grumbled. "I'll be home by 10."

She walked away, began her ascent up the stairs before Rick heard the muttered 'was just trying to help you out'.

He turned his attention back to Kate, who was trying her best to stifle her smile.

"Teenagers."

Kate nodded and hummed. "You should have seen me at that age," she commented thoughtfully. "My dad really had his work cut out for him. He would turn to my mum and through gritted teeth he'd say she's as stubborn as you are."

"I bet that went down well," Rick said, hoping Kate would continue with her story.

"They were both as stubborn as mules." She smiled at whatever memory was playing in her mind and a chuckle slipped from her lips. "I never stood a chance."

She tried to be quiet as she entered the apartment - just in case Lanie was already asleep - but as she looked up she was met by two sets of curious eyes.

Lanie and Esposito sat on the couch, bowl of popcorn balanced over their laps.

"Hey there," Lanie greeted with a playful smile.

"Sneaking in after curfew again?" Esposito asked, a matching grin plastered on his face.

Kate rolled her eyes. It was not even 10 o'clock yet: Alexis - an actual child - had a later curfew than she apparently did.

"Sorry Dad," she groaned sarcastically. "Didn't realise you were waiting up."

She toed off her shoes and tossed her bag down on the bottom shelf of the bookcase by the door.

"We're watching Mr & Mrs Smith," Esposito informed her. "Wanna join us?"

She smiled at him. "I won't be cramping your style?" she joked.

Lanie's jaw dropped and she playfully swatted his chest with the back of her hand. "You did not say that to her!"

"I was joking," he defended before shooting imaginary daggers at Beckett.

"Javier Esposito, I cannot believe you."

Kate pouted. "It really hurt my feelings, Javi."

Espo scoffed and Kate couldn't hold back the please chuckle that bubbled in her throat.

"You're lucky," Lanie said in a low, warning voice as she leant into Espo's side.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Kate could have sworn she heard him whisper something along the lines of luckiest man in the world.

"I'm gonna shower first," Kate said, answering Esposito's question.

"Want us to pause it?" Lanie asked.

Kate pulled fresh underwear, a pair of leggings and an old cotton shirt from her suitcase. "Nah, that's fine. I've seen it before."

She took her time in the bathroom; allowed the heat of the shower water to wash over her and calm the thoughts that raced through her mind.

A lot had happened today.

After months of searching, she'd found a place. A wonderful place, at that. And it was cheap enough that she'd still be able to save while paying rent. By the time she had to move out again, she was certain she would have enough of a deposit to maybe even buy herself somewhere she could call home.

And then there was, well, everything else.

Her time with Rick was so... easy. Laying in his bed, wrapped in his arms and breathing in the scent of him, of them; it had felt like the most natural thing in the world. There was no need for words, no desire to fill the silence. With him, she could just... be.

And when her mind began to wander, began to edge toward a darker place where she could have so easily gotten lost, he knew exactly how to coax her back into the light.

The only other person who had ever known her mind like that, who had ever understood her so completely was Lanie, and even then it had taken them years to build that unmatched familiarity. Rick had swooped in and seemed to have her completely figured out in a matter of weeks.

And his words were never empty, he'd proven that time and time again. She had doubted his promise that nothing had to change, because she had felt it. Everything had changed. Yet, somehow, they'd spent the evening together eating dinner, drinking wine and talking - just talking - like old friends would. Old friends who had never - not even once - seen each other naked! No awkwardness, no undertones or innuendos, nothing to suggest they were ever, at any time, anything more than what they were in that moment. Nothing had to change.

It was almost as if the Rick and Kate that had spent hours teasing and pleasing one another had been two entirely different people.

She liked that, liked that she could keep the two sides of them separate until she was ready to be all in.

The water began to chill; a sign she had spent way too long mulling over her thoughts. She shut off the water and sighed as she slid the shower curtain to the side and stepped out into the steam-filled room. She lifted her watch from the vanity; 10:48pm.

"Shit," she murmured to herself.

She hadn't planned on taking so long - but she was certain that Lanie and Espo would have appreciated a little extra time alone. Soon they'll have the place to themselves again.

Her stomach fluttered at the thought. She hadn't lived alone in years; she'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, the movie was more than halfway through. Lanie and Esposito had shuffled along the couch, freeing up the space where Kate usually slept.

"Thank you," she said softly as she settled into place, pulling her blanket over her lap.

They smiled, acknowledging her thanks, but remained focused on the movie.

After several minutes of silence, Lanie spoke.

"What'd you get up to today?"

Esposito huffed, grabbed the remote and paused the movie, knowing all too well that his girlfriend had obviously lost interest for now and when she did start to pay attention again, he would have to waste time catching her up.

Kate smiled at his frustration; they'd all been there.

"Not much," she said with a casual shrug. "Spent most of the day with Rick."

She kept her eyes glued to the TV and ignored the knowing smirks she could see in her peripheral vision.

"Also, I-uh. I found a place," she added.

Lanie sat up, her spine ramrod straight. "What? When?"

"Where?" Esposito added, equally as surprised.

"Is it a nice place?" Lanie asked, knowing too well the kinds of dumps that Kate had been looking at over these past few weeks.

"Yes, it's a nice place," Kate said defensively. "A really nice place, actually. It's a loft in Lenox Hill."

She saw the dubious look her friends exchanged.

"You moving in with Castle or something?" Esposito asked. "You know, you don't really know the guy-"

Kate laughed. Esposito tried his best to seem uninterested, unbothered by the happenings of her life but she knew that he cared just as much as Lanie did. She appreciated it: the big brother role he had taken on. He would vehemently deny it but they all knew he loved her dearly and only wanted the best for her.

"I'm not moving in with anyone," she assured him. "Besides, Rick lives in SoHo. A friend of his owns the place and is wanting to sublet for a while."

"So you applied?" Lanie asked.

Kate shook her head. "He emailed me a lease this afternoon. I can move in in two weeks."

"Two weeks?" Lanie repeated as if she hoped she had misheard. "That's so quick!"

"I've been here for weeks, Lanie."

Lanie shuffled along the couch - until she was practically sitting in Kate's lap - and wrapped her arms around her friend, squeezing her tight.

"I'm going to miss having a housemate," she said sadly.

Esposito lifted his hands, palms turned to the ceiling as he shot his girlfriend a look that practically screamed what about me?

"A housemate that remembers to put the toilet seat down," Lanie added without even looking at Espo.

Kate looked over the top of Lanie's head, smirked at her colleague.

"One time," he mumbled to himself.

Chapter Text

The day had be long, tedious.

Spirits were low as they entered their twenty-sixth hour of searching for Oscar Radley; the man responsible for the two teenagers currently in the morgue.

He had managed to slip away when they'd gone to arrest him at his office, weaving through the sea of business men and women until all three of the detectives had lost sight of him.

They'd been doing everything possible to find him since; going over every detail of his life - again and again - trying to find out where he might possibly resurface. BOLO's had been sent out state-wide: to precincts, airports, bus and train stations. They had uniformed officers on constant patrols, the homes and workplaces of all known family and acquaintances under surveillance. There really wasn't much more she could be doing and yet she was finding herself getting increasingly more frustrated with each dead end they came up against.

"Maybe you should take a break."

The voice pulled her from her internal spiral, pushed away that harrowing voice in the back of her mind that taunted her.

You let him get away.

She looked up from her computer screen to see Esposito watching her with worry in his eyes.

"I'm fine," she said with a firm shake of her head.

No, she wasn't going anywhere. Not until this guy had been caught.

"Your phone has been going off," he commented before returning to his own desk.

He knew better than to push. She appreciated that.

She looked down at the phone that sat on her desk, atop a pile of paperwork she needed to catch up on. As if on cue, the screen illuminated. She lifted it, opened the string of text messages she had been ignoring for two days now.

Look, I'm trying not to be that guy but I haven't heard from you in a while. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

She couldn't help but smile. After having to cancel their weekend plans she hadn't had a chance to see Rick in over a week. Not for lack of trying; she'd even gone as far as to promise she'd stop by his apartment after a late shift for a, uh, quick visit. But her 10pm finish quickly became a 2am finish and by the time she made her way to SoHo - and suffered through the awkwardness of meeting his mother for the first time when the woman had answered the door with a knowing smile - he had passed out on the couch. He had apologised profusely the next morning and promised to make it up to her but they were yet to get to that.

That was the last time she had spoken to him. Since then, this case had taken a turn for the worse and she had been neglecting just about every other aspect of her life for the past few days. She went home to shower, eat and maybe catch a few hours of sleep: only when she was ordered to. And her phone, despite being glued to her side, was for work-related communications only. Rick, her father, even most of her texts from Lanie had been ignored, placed in the deal with later pile.

She supposed now was a good time to deal with that.

Sorry, I've been swamped at work. But I miss you.

She sent the message before she even realised what she had typed. I miss you. After just a few days. How truly pathetic.

I miss you, too.

But at least she wasn't alone in that feeling.

Her smile only brightened and she marvelled at how easily he could do that: ease the pressures of a bad day and bring a little light back into the darkest parts of this world.

Dinner at mine tonight?

She sighed and began to type out her reply, the same reply she typed out the last three times he had asked that question: I'm sorry, but I can't commit to that right now.

They couldn't let this guy get away, couldn't rest while the families of two kids - kids! - mourned their loss with no answers to comfort them.

But running herself ragged wasn't going to solve this case. And the Captain had been circling her all day, monitoring her. She knew she was likely going to be sent home as soon as her shift was over anyway.

So she deleted the half-typed response and began tapping out a new reply.

I'll be there x.

She tucked her phone into her pocket - couldn't allow herself to be distracted anymore - and after several minutes of searching through Radley's phone records, again, Ryan rushed out of the break room with his phone pressed to his ear.

"Uh-huh. Yeah. Yeah, we'll be right there."

He hung up the phone, turned his attention to Kate.

"Radley's been spotted."

The three of them grabbed their gear and rushed to the elevator.

He had expected another no.

Gentle, yet firm, like each other time.

I wish I could. Always followed by a but...

But not this time.

The second he had received her reply he had rushed off to buy fresh ingredients to make her something spectacular, something memorable. Exactly what that would be, he wasn't quite sure, so he bought enough to have options.

He had a few hours to mull it over, to decide on the perfect meal to serve her. In the meantime, he needed to write.

Gina had, thankfully, not had a heart attack when he brought up the changes to his book. She simply smiled and told him she wasn't adjusting the project timeline. If he could get this new story written in accordance to the schedule they had already set, then he was free to do as he pleased. It was going to be tough, but he was sure he could do it if he really knuckled down.

Unfortunately, the story that seemed to be flowing so freely from his mind was not that of an ex-mob enforcer, wrongfully accused of murdering an undercover cop. No, the words he typed out so rapidly belonged to an idea he had tucked away weeks ago; they belonged to Nikki Heat.

He had typed for hours, barely pausing for more than a few short moments at a time. Before he knew it, the blank screen in front of him was filled with ideas that he just couldn't wait to bring to life. An entire story; for her. He couldn't think of a more perfect way to show her how much she meant to him.

You know, when the time was right.

His phone began to ring, breaking him from his writing trance. He saved the document and picked up his phone, bringing it to his ear without so much as glancing at the caller ID.

"Richard Castle," he greeted politely.

"Castle." The familiar voice filled him with dread. Unnecessary, he could have been calling for several reasons, but the tension that carried through the phone speaker told Rick this wasn't a casual call.

"Espo? What's wrong?"

"Look, Castle, I don't want you to panic-"

It was as if he blacked out.

There's been an accident.

He doesn't remember much after that, doesn't even remember if he asked a single question about, well, anything. All he remembered was Esposito muttering the words Beckett's hurt and suddenly he was forcing his legs to move - one foot after the other, faster and faster - navigating the never-ending corridors of this impossibly large hospital, desperate to be by her side.

He turned left at the end of one corridor, came face to face with a dead end. Staff only, the sign on the door read.

"Yo, Castle!"

He turned on his heel at the sound of Esposito's voice and panic hit him, like walking into a brick wall, when he saw the detective's solemn expression.

He had seen Esposito serious, he'd seen him annoyed and upset and outright pissed off, but never had he seen this expression mar the man's face. It was an expression of helplessness, of guilt.

"Where is she?" Rick asked.

"I didn't expect you to get here so quick," Espo commented.

"Yeah, well, when you get a call saying someone is in hospital, that's usually a drop everything you're doing and go kinda thing."

Esposito nodded. "I appreciate that." He looked to his right, through the door to their side. "I'd stay with her but unfortunately I have to get back to the precinct."

"I understand." Rick's focus followed the path of Esposito's eyes, but he couldn't see anything past the curtain drawn around the bed. "Is she okay?"

"She has a concussion and a sprained wrist: they're doing tests to see how severe, but they suspect a torn ligament or two. Knowing Beckett, the worst of it will be her wounded pride," he said, earning him a soft smile from Castle. "She'll be fine," he assured the writer.

"Can I go in there?" Castle asked.

"Yeah, I just stepped out to call Jenny." He held up his phone, just enough to bring Castle's attention to it. "Figured I should check in on Ryan."

Castle sighed; he hadn't even thought to ask about anyone else. His mind had been to consumed by Kate.

"Is he okay?"

"He made it home to his fiance," Esposito said, telling Castle everything he needed to know about the events of the day.

"And you?"

The detective looked up and met the writer's eyes. "It's all part of the job," he answered with a shrug. "The bad days are inevitable. It could have been a lot worse."

Castle shuddered at the thought; it didn't take a genius to know what Esposito had meant by a lot worse.

They faced death every day, in one way or another. To them, this was merely a case of could have been worse.

"Just a word of advice," Espo started, pulling Castle from his thoughts. The writer looked at him, gave him his fully attention. "If you can't be okay with this part, go home."

"I'm not leaving-"

"She doesn't need to be coddled. I can see it on your face, bro, you're too scared."

"She's in hospital. What, am I not supposed to care?"

"Every cop has seen this play out a hundred times. Caring is fine, you should care, but this isn't something that you just get used to. Either you understand that each day is a risk or you don't. All I'm saying is-" Esposito took a breath. He was overstepping, for sure. He knew he should just shut up, mind his own business, but he couldn't. "This is more than just a job to her. If you can't accept this part of it, it's never going to work out for the two of you."

Castle nodded. "I know. I know what this means to her and I would never not support that."

Esposito's eyes narrowed as if he was waiting for the catch that never came.

"Seriously," Castle assured him. "What do I need to do?" he asked, his eyes drifting toward the room he still couldn't quite see inside.

"She's pretty heavily medicated," Espo began to explain. "She keeps drifting in and out but Doc said that's to be expected. He said that if she's got someone to keep an eye on her for the next 24 hours, he'll be happy to discharge her soon."

"24 hours?" Castle repeated.

He had a meeting that he would have to reschedule but he would do that, of course.

"Lanie's shift ends in, like, six hours. And she's taken a few days off," Espo told Castle. "If you can just, I don't know, keep her from slipping into a coma or something in the meantime, that would be great."

"A coma? You're messing with me, right?"

The corners of Esposito's mouth twitched and he dropped his mask of seriousness, a smirk spreading on his lips. "She'll be fine, she's just a bit dopey. And she'll probably be a bit miserable once the good stuff starts to wear off. Nothing you can't handle, right?"

"Right."

Espo slapped his palm to Castle's shoulder. "You need anything, give me a call."

With Castle's nod of acknowledgement, Esposito walked away.

Rick slowly moved closer to the open door. He could do this: accept the risk, remove the worry from his face. He inched closer, pulled the curtain aside and allowed himself a moment to take in the sight before him.

Kate was lying on her side, her knees curled up to her chest and a troubled look on her face, as if she were having some horrible nightmare. There were drops of blood on her shirt - a deep crimson contrast to the baby blue button-up - that had undoubtedly spilled from the inch-long gash above her right eyebrow.

Over all, she didn't look too bad.

He could do this.

He moved around the bed, carefully lowered himself into the chair on the other side, trying not to wake her but the soft squeak of the plastic cushioning alerted her to his presence.

"Hey," she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her fists.

"Hey," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"I, uh-" The crease between her brows deepened and her eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. "I'm just so tired."

"You got a pretty decent knock to the noggin'," Rick explained. "Between the concussion and the pain meds, you'll probably feel a bit drowsy for a few days."

"I don't like it," she groaned. "The boys?"

"They're okay," he assured her.

But she shook her head. "No, Ryan's hurt."

"He's fine," he tried to reassure her, but there was no point.

She reached for the bed railing with her left hand and - ignoring the bandage that indicated some form of injury - tried to pull herself upright. She sucked in a sharp breath and hissed a cuss word through gritted teeth as pain seared through her lower arm.

"Kate-" In an instant, Rick was on his feet and by her side, brushing her hair from her face as she flopped back against the pillow and clutched her throbbing wrist to her chest. "Breathe," he encouraged.

She closed her eyes, took slow, measured breaths as she waited for the pain to subside. Minutes passed in silence, nothing more than each purposeful inhale and exhale filled the space between them until she spoke again in a soft, shaky voice.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Kate forced her eyes open and looked up at Rick.

"For this. I messed up, I didn't-"

"Kate," he interrupted, stilling his hand to cradle the side of her head. "It's okay."

"I'm sure there are a million other places you'd rather be right now."

Rick pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to be deep in thought. "I mean, the hospital didn't exactly top my list of most exciting places to spend my day but you definitely rank pretty high on the list of people I want to spend my day with."

She let out a loud huff of air. "Are you seriously flirting with me right now?"

"Well, that depends," he answered. "Did it make you forget about the pain?"

Kate looked down to her wrist, the one that - just seconds ago - had been throbbing with intense pain. She could still feel it, but it was more of a dull ache now. Subdued by the pain medication coursing through her veins, no doubt. But still, she'd give him credit for this one.

"You win this round," she said.

Her eyes remained downcast and focused on the material that wrapped around the lower portion of her arm, but a smile spread across her lips and Rick couldn't help but wonder what she was thinking about.

He was about to ask, when a panicked voice stole both of their attention.

"Kate?" the unfamiliar voice asked.

Unfamiliar to Rick, anyway. Kate's eyes lit up with recognition and she turned to face the man who had rushed into the room.

The unannounced guest was tall, he towered over her even as he hunched over and wrapped his large hands around the metal guardrail of Kate's hospital bed. A dark brown lock of hair fell forward, the tips of the tendril tickling at the corner of his eye but he made no attempt to move it.

"What happened?" He kept his moss green eyes locked to Kate's. "Are you okay?"

"Why are you here?" Kate asked, ignoring the man's questions.

"The hospital called me; I'm listed as your emergency contact."

Kate sighed, closed her eyes and hung her head low, using her good hand to massage her forehead.

"I didn't resubmit the forms," she said quietly.

Rick wasn't sure if she was talking to him, herself, or the mystery man who he was certain wasn't a mystery at all.

Surely... it had to be...

"Adam, I'm sorry."

Rick's stomach dropped as she confirmed his suspicions.

This was the man who had so carelessly thrown away a good thing, leaving her heartbroken and confused. Rick had assumed he would be filled with anger if he ever met the man; instead, he pitied him.

Did he realise the mistake he had made? What he had lost?

Was that why he was here?

"It's not a problem," Adam assured her.

Kate opened her eyes and looked back up at him. "You came all this way, it's such an inconvenience."

"Not at all." He smiled at her. "I've been wanting to see you, actually."

"Why?" Rick asked, the words spilling from his lips before he had the chance to stop them.

Two sets of eyes landed on him; apologetic hazel and irritated green.

"I'm sorry: who are you?"

"This is Rick," Kate introduced, hesitantly. "He's going to take me back to Lanie's."

Rick smiled politely and held out his hand.

Adam stood tall, straightening his posture as he reached across the bed and shook Rick's hand.

"Thank you for your kind offer," the man - Adam - said. "But, I'm here now."

But where have you been for the past two months?

Rick bit his tongue, kept his thoughts swirling in his mind instead of spilling freely: it wasn't his place to comment.

"I'm happy to take you home, Kate," Adam said, returning his attention back to her. "As I said: I've been wanting to see you again. I think we have a lot we should talk about."

"She's concussed," Rick stated, his frustration evident in the furrow of his brow. "I don't think now is the time."

Adam inhaled, equally as frustrated, apparently. "I think that's up to Kate to decide."

"Are you two done?" Kate asked.

She didn't have the energy to deal with wherever this testosterone fuelled face off was headed: she was sore, she was nauseous and she really just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. She sighed heavily, turned her attention to Rick. "I'm sorry. Maybe I should..."

She didn't finish her thought but she didn't have to, he knew what she was trying to say. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't wanted to argue, to insist that she should just go home, save this conversation for another day. A day when she was stronger, not drugged up and hazy. Instead, he smiled and took her hand in his.

"That's okay," he assured her. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

She nodded slowly, but it wasn't enough. He needed to know that she understood.

"Anything at all," he added for clarity.

"I will." She squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

The house had changed. Nothing too drastic but it was enough to make her feel uneasy.

This wasn't home anymore. All traces of her were, just... gone.

Her DVD's and books that lined the shelves of the living room, the knitted throw that they'd kept draped over the arm of their lounge, the little trinkets and mementos she had collected over the years... gone.

And their photographs - the frames that decorated the buffet and shelves, that hung from the walls - they had all been replaced with photographs of her. Becca: the ex-wife.

Instead of the art they had bought together - an abstract piece she knew he never really liked, but had pretended to because she had fallen in love with it the moment she laid eyes on it - an unnecessarily large wedding portrait hung on the wall by the dining table.

"Does it count if you're not actually married anymore?" Kate muttered to herself as she stared at the canvas print.

She found herself wondering why she was here. Why she had insisted on putting herself through this when Rick had been right there, more than happy to take her home, to look after her while she wasn't well.

Closure. That's all she could come up with: a reason for allowing herself to be taken back to the place she used to call home.

"Becca just wanted to fill the space until we decided on what to put there," Adam explained as he stepped up to her side.

The space was filled, she thought to herself.

His shoulder brushed against hers, as it had so many times before. But it was too much: his touch; the way he could so easily act like nothing had happened, like he wasn't flaunting his betrayal in her face.

She turned away from the depiction of marital bliss that taunted her, and walked toward the couch.

"What happened to our canvas?" she asked.

Her only hope was that he had stored it properly. But when he looked at her with guilty eyes, she realised that didn't matter: she wasn't getting it back.

"Where is it?"

Adam shrugged. "Sold it."

"What?" she groaned and flopped down onto the couch.

"Your half of the money is in a box of your stuff," he said, as if that made up for what had been done.

"I don't want the money," she whined. "I want my painting."

"What did you expect me to do, Kate?" He walked toward her, frustration growing evident in his voice. "You just left me. With no warning. Suddenly I'm paying twice the amount of rent-"

"Oh, I'm sorry that Becca isn't pulling her weight financially," she spat bitterly. "Maybe you should have thought about that before screwing me over."

"You didn't even give me a chance to explain," he argued.

His raised voice, the accusatory tone; it made her blood boil.

She rose to her feet, ignoring the way her head felt too light yet too heavy. "What could you have possibly said that would have changed anything?"

He opened his mouth, but no words would come out.

No excuses, no justifications, no apology.

Kate closed her eyes, took a deep breath in and then let the air expel from her lungs slowly. Once, twice, three times. And when she had calmed herself down, she opened her eyes and continued.

"What do you want from me, Adam?"

He looked at her with a sadness in his eyes that - once upon a time - would have melted her into submission.

"I want to know that you don't hate me."

She gently pressed her teeth to her bottom lip and let her eyes drift to the floor. She had told herself, a hundred times over, that she hated him.

He had her - so hopelessly in love with him, so willing to give everything she had to this relationship, to their future - but he didn't want her. He kept her in the dark, oblivious to his indiscretions: he broke her heart; shattered her trust.

She wanted to hate him, for ruining her.

But, lately, she was starting to think that maybe she wasn't ruined.

"The writer-" Adam began, bringing Kate from her thoughts. "Is he-? I mean, are you dating him?"

The question filled her with anger. No, they weren't dating. They could be. Hell, they should be... but she was too scared to take that leap, to risk her heart again because she had chosen to give it to the wrong person: to him.

"Thank you for boxing up my stuff," she said, purposefully ignoring his question. "I'll organise to have everything picked up within the next week or so."

Adam rolled his eyes. "You think I don't see the photos plastered all over Page Six?" he huffed angrily.

"Who I choose to spend my time with isn't any of your business anymore." She turned and began to walk toward the door. "I'll text you the details once I have a removalist organised," she called over her shoulder.

"I didn't sell the painting," he confessed in anger. "We burned it."

She stopped in her tracks, her hand still mid-air as she reached for the doorknob.

The one thing she wanted - that he would have known she wanted - and he destroyed it. Her anger surged through her: she wanted to scream.

But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She took a deep breath and continued on her way out, slamming the door behind her.

She realised that this was probably the last place she should be right now. When she had managed to hail a cab, she was intent on going home. She just wanted to shower, to wash away the horrible day she'd had, and to go to sleep.

And yet, here she was.

Rick's address had apparently spilled from her lips and, by the time she realised the cab driver was not taking her to Lanie's apartment, she realised that was exactly where she wanted to be. With Rick.

He opened the door with curiosity on his face, but it so quickly morphed into something else.

Hurt, or anger, or maybe even disappointment. Either way, she couldn't bear to look at him anymore.

She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shirt. She felt his arms wrap around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"Guys suck," she mumbled.

His arms tightened around her body, a reassurance.

"I'm sorry?" he said, a little unsure if he was included in this general disapproval of his gender.

But she shook her head - her hair tickling along his jaw - and mumbled. "Not you. Never you."

She breathed in deeply, savouring every part of him that overwhelmed her senses: the warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne, the beating of his heart in his chest. He was all around her, like a protective shield, and nothing else seemed to matter.

"I'm sorry, Rick." She pulled back, just enough to look up at him. "You dropped everything to come and help me. And I just... dismissed you. I'm so sorry."

"I take it your talk didn't go very well," Rick surmised.

Kate huffed out a caustic laugh. "Closure is a myth," she asserted, so sure in her conclusion.

But Rick shook his head. "The idea that you can get closure from the person who hurt you is a myth," he said. "Real closure comes from you. It comes from accepting what happened and allowing yourself to move forward."

He brought his hand to Kate's face and gently brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"I probably could have told you that a few hours ago and saved you the hassle," he admitted with a smirk. "But I figured this was probably something you had to figure out on your own."

She smiled, knowing that he was right. If he had asked her not to go, told her that it wouldn't be worth it she probably would have ignored his warnings. Too stubborn for her own good; her father would get a kick out of knowing she had finally accepted what he had been telling her for years now.

"Still, I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive."

He smiled, ran his hands down her arms until he reached her hands - sure to be cautious as he fingertips ran over the splint that covered her wrist - and then slowly led her inside his home.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked cautiously.

He didn't want her to feel pressured, like he was prying for details out of mistrust: he just wanted her to know that he was there if she needed to talk. He wanted her to know that, despite where he wanted this to be heading, he wanted to be her friend first and foremost. He wanted to be someone she could talk to about anything.

She shook her head. "I don't think so."

He let go of her hands and stepped around her, moving closer to the door to push it shut.

"If you're upset," he started to say as he walked back to her. He reached for her coat, slipped it off of her shoulders and she muttered her thanks.

She turned to face him, watched as he hung her coat in the closet by the front door.

"I am," she admitted.

Rick looked at her, concern swirling through the blue of his eyes.

"Or... I was," she corrected. "Being here helps."

He understood the words that remained unspoken: being with you helps.

"You're always welcome here," he told her. He stepped closer, took her good hand in his and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Stay. As long as you'd like."

Kate's eyes flicked across to the staircase, then back to Rick's.

"Is Alexis home?"

The question - although innocent enough - sent a flutter through his belly and into his chest.

"No," he answered with the gentle shake of his head. "Not until morning. It's just us."

Just us.

He loved it when they were alone. When they were alone, she would let her guard down just that little bit more. They'd share space, as if any amount of distance between them was too much. She'd allow him to touch her, to hold her, as if his hands on her were the only thing keeping her grounded. There was an easiness that came with being alone, an easiness that was slowly but surely convincing her to take the risk, to let him in. And knowing that that was what she craved in this moment when she was both physically and emotionally hurt and drained, knowing that - deep down - she knew that she could be at her most vulnerable with him made him realise that perhaps she was even closer to being ready than he had thought.

He smiled. "Are you hungry? I can make you some dinner."

Kate shook her head. "I'm not feeling great, to be honest."

"Are the pain meds upsetting your stomach?" Rick dropped Kate's hand and shifted to gently touch her stomach. Her focus dropped to the unexpected touch as the breath she inhaled hitched in her throat. "You know what?" he asked, waiting for her eyes to return to his before continuing. "Why don't you have a quick shower while I heat up some soup? It'll make you feel better."

She smiled and nodded slowly. A shower sounded wonderful. "Thank you."

"Come with me."

Still holding her hand, he led her through his bedroom and into the en-suite.

"That cabinet there-" He pointed to the cabinet he was referring to. "Has clean towels. There should also be a plastic tub to the side that has my little stockpile of toiletries. Grab whatever you need: loofah, toothbrush, whatever. I'll grab something you can wear."

He heard her mumble a shy thank you as he ducked out of the en-suite in search of suitable clothing for her to wear. The options were limited: short of borrowing clothes from his teenage daughter or elderly mother - both options that he was not sold on - he could offer her sweatpants, boxers, a cotton t-shirt or a sweatshirt. All of which would inevitably swim on her. After a few moments of deliberation he grabbed a pair of boxers and his most comfortable sweatshirt.

"I hope these are okay," he said as he re-entered the bathroom.

He looked up at her just in time to see her fumbling with the top button of her blouse and - for just a moment - he froze, considering that maybe he should have knocked or announced his presence or something rather than just walking in. But, when he saw the frustration on her face, he stepped closer.

"Did you need help?" he asked cautiously.

He didn't want to overstep.

Or make her feel like he thought she wasn't capable.

Kate sighed and turned to face him.

"They're just really fiddly buttons," she excused.

Rick placed the clothing on the vanity, took another step closer to Kate and reached for the tiny iridescent buttons. She hadn't been kidding when she said they were fiddly, but he managed to slip them through the buttonholes with relative ease.

"Maybe try to avoid buttons for a few days," he suggested with a small chuckle.

She hummed and nodded slowly, seemingly agreeing with his suggestion until he saw the corner of her mouth curve into a smirk. "Or I could just keep you handy for all my undressing needs," she mused.

Rick's smile grew tenfold at the suggestion. "That could work, too, I guess."

He slipped the last button through it's corresponding hole and waited for her to slip the material from her shoulders. He couldn't help but let his gaze drift down her body, drawn to the red markings on her ribs that were already darkening into a rather nasty bruise.

"It doesn't hurt much," she assured him, pulling the cuff of her shirt over her wrist splint before tossing it aside.

Rick smiled, forced his eyes back up to hers. "I'll remind you of that once the cocktail of medications starts to wear off," he remarked. "Turn around."

She obeyed his request, turning without hesitation. With her good hand she gathered her hair to one side and pulled it over her shoulder. Rick's fingertips at her spine tickled as he unclasped her bra for her.

She briefly considered asking him to stay, to forget about the food he had promised (the food she honestly didn't really want) and join her in the shower instead. But the persistent thump and throb and fogginess of her mind told her that maybe that wasn't the best idea right now.

"I'll be in the kitchen," he said softly, his lips at the shell of her ear. His hands smoothed a path down her sides before pressing firmly to her hips. "Call out if you need anything else."

She nodded and waited for the sound of the door closing behind him before she continued to undress. Piece by piece, the rest of her clothing joined her shirt in the corner of the room. With her right hand she began to pull on the hook and loop straps of the splint, loosening it just enough to slip her arm free of the confines. She tossed it haphazardly onto the vanity then - supporting her left forearm with her good hand - she cautiously stretched out the fingers on her left hand. She grimaced as the movement sent sharp bolts of pain radiating from her wrist.

It was going to be a long few days.

His mother had never been a shining example of domesticity, but one 'life hack' she had shared with him was to always keep half a dozen individual servings of the family's remedial chicken soup in the freezer.

It can cure just about anything, she had insisted. But it's a pain to make when you're feeling like death!

He hadn't appreciated the advice until the first time he and Alexis had been struck down by a horrendous winter flu. It felt like a million years ago now, but he would never forget how physically draining the simple act of preparing food for his daughter had been at that time.

His freezer had remained adequately stocked ever since.

It didn't take long to bring the soup to temperature. He lowered the cook top settings to keep the broth warm, then moved across the kitchen to put a slice of bread in the toaster. Just as it popped up again, Kate emerged from Rick's bedroom dressed in his clothing.

She'd had to roll the waistband of his boxers over to keep them from slipping too low on her hips, but she couldn't deny that she was comfortable.

"Feeling any better?" he asked as she approached.

She smiled and sat on one of the stools at the counter. "Much. Thank you."

He ladled the soup into a bowl and slid it across the bench to her.

"Eat up." He smeared some butter onto the toast and placed it beside the bowl. "It'll help settle your stomach."

"You always this bossy?" Kate asked in jest.

"Only when necessary," he replied.

Kate picked up the slice of toast and dipped the corner into the soup, taking a hesitant bite. She had expected her stomach - that had been churning incessantly since she left the hospital - to protest the meal, but it didn't. She took another hesitant bite, then another, and still nothing.

"You're a miracle worker," she said softly and Rick smiled proudly.

They had agreed on one movie before he would - reluctantly - take her home.

But as soon as she settled in - pressed against his side with one of his hands holding her securely and the other absent-mindedly combing through her hair - he knew that she wasn't going to last the whole movie. Sure enough, not even twenty minutes in, she was fast asleep.

Rick considered waking her but when he shifted to get a clearer view of her face - and she, in return, snuggled in closer to him - he very quickly decided against doing so. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up his call log to send a text to the last number that had called.

Kate is with me, safe and sound asleep.

The reply came after just a few minutes.

Lanie assumed she would make her way to yours. Cap wants to see her in the AM but only when she's ready.

Rick replied, assuring Esposito that he would pass along the message when she woke.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and shifted slightly, making himself more comfortable.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the top of Kate's head.

Chapter Text

She walked slowly, cautiously, gun at the ready.

Radley was getting away from them. Again. She wouldn't allow it. Ryan was down - a bullet lodged deep into the Kevlar that guarded his torso - and Esposito had split off to enter the alleyway from the other side, to try and cut off any potential escape routes, leaving her (temporarily) without backup.

She had lost visual when Radley ducked into the alleyway. She rounded the corner almost immediately after, but he was gone. Vanished into thin air: or so she had thought. She heard the scuttle of a stone skipping along the bitumen behind her, the shuffle of feet. She turned but was met by the crack of metal against her skull and the echo of her pain-fuelled grunt echoed through the air. She stumbled and the world spun, replicated before her eyes until her surroundings were an indecipherable blur, but she managed to stay on her feet.

A kick to the ribs had her stumbling again, reaching out to try and steady herself. Even through her vest, she felt the full force of Radley's boot deep in her core. The second kick finally knocked her to the ground; a dissonant cry tore from her chest as she landed on her arm and a sudden, intense pain radiated from her wrist. She managed to shift onto her knees, her wrist clutched protectively to her chest. Waves of nausea washed over her - alternating with the waves of pain that stole the breath from her lungs - made it impossible to gain her bearings, to focus, to pull herself to her feet.

"Just stay down!" a distant voice warned.

She looked up at Radley, stared down the barrel of the gun pointed to her face. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her own weapon but she hesitated. She would only get one shot, one chance to disarm him and to save herself from the bullet inevitably headed her way. But her vision was dancing and her body moved slowly; he would see her lift her weapon and - even if she did manage to move quick enough - her aim would be far from accurate. Trying to defend herself was risky, would more than likely only lead to Radley pulling the trigger his finger was already so nervously resting against.

She opened her palm and her weapon slipped the few inches from her hand to the ground. Slowly, weakly, she lifted her hands to the sky in surrender. She closed her eyes; partially to dull the prickling of tears that formed as she moved her injured arm and partially because she didn't want to see what was coming next. She tried to focus on something else, anything else, but the only thing left was the pain. The throbbing in her head, the pressure at her ribs, the stabbing of rocks into her knees as she knelt; pain was everywhere.

"Beckett!"

Metal struck her, split the skin above her brow and triggered a slow rivulet of warmth to trickle down the side of her face.

A gunshot rang out and everything faded to black.

Kate jolted awake, sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes burst open and her entire body stiffened.

She looked around, searched the darkness for something familiar in her surroundings, something that would tell her where she was because she certainly was not on Rick's couch anymore. The hungry eyes that hung to her right - the portrait Rick had introduced as Linus the lion - were the somewhat reassuring sign she needed to help calm the rapid pounding of her heart, to steady each intake of breath.

She was okay.

She looked to her left, to her injured arm. It had been carefully propped up on pillows but that did little to ease the discomfort of the splint.

Just a few days, she reminded herself. Then it could come off.

She forced herself upright, groaned as her entire body seemed to protest. Her head was foggy - it pounded like a drum as if to keep up with each beat of her heart - and the dull ache that seemed to permeate through each bone in her body told her that it was probably about time for another dosage of her medication. The too bright digits on Rick's alarm clock confirmed that suspicion.

A soft but persistent click-clack pulled her out of bed and she followed the sound through the partially closed door, into the darkened space of Rick's office. The light from his laptop screen illuminated his face; showed each harsh line caused by his intense focus as his fingers glided effortlessly along the keys in front of him. She hadn't seen him like this - so in the zone, so caught up (in what she could only assume was his work) that the world around him ceased to exist - she couldn't resist the chance to observe, to take in the sight. She leant against the door frame, wrapped her good arm across her torso and smiled to herself as she watched him.

She wanted to ask him all the questions that swirled through her mind, but she didn't dare to break his concentration. But - as observant as ever, even in his trance - it didn't take long for him to notice her presence, to feel the burn of her eyes on him and allow himself to be pulled out of his fictional world.

He looked away from his latest chapter, toward the bedroom where she had been sleeping peacefully. He liked the way she looked - so comfortable in his clothes and in his space - as she leant and watched him, a half-smile on her beautiful face.

"Sorry," he said in a low, nurturing tone of voice. The same tone he used when Alexis was sick, or a friend was in need of consoling. For now, it seemed fitting. "Did I wake you?"

Kate shook her head. "No."

She pushed off from the door frame and took a few small steps toward the desk. Rick stood, too, meeting her halfway.

"Are you okay?" His hands dropped to her hips and he tilted his head, searched her eyes for answers. "In pain?"

"A little pain," she answered honestly. "But I'm okay."

Rick smiled and shook his head. "Stubborn," he uttered as he walked back to his desk. He picked up a pill bottle, tipped two small capsules into his palm and grabbed his glass of water. "Take these," he said after turning back to face her.

She accepted the offer gratefully, letting him drop the medication into her open palm and taking the glass with the other hand. "Thank you."

He watched as she popped the capsules into her mouth, swallowed them down with a gulp of the room temperature water.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Her eyes left his, darted over his shoulder to his laptop and then back to him.

Rick looked over his shoulder, following the path Kate's eyes had taken. "Oh, uh, writing. Well, trying."

"At two o'clock in the morning? Aren't you tired?"

"I'm fine," he replied, too quickly to be convincing.

Kate narrowed her eyes, pressed her teeth into her bottom lip as she tried to think of a reason why he wouldn't want to come to bed. It didn't take long for her to figure it out, though; not when his eyes kept drifting upward to study the evidence of today's misfortune.

"Rick," she sighed and took a step toward him, placed her hand on his chest.

He forced his attention back to her, studied the calm of her eyes instead of the angry bruising that was so rapidly forming above her brow. It had spread significantly over the hours: the tender red swell of pooling blood had expanded it's reach to the centre of her forehead; up, into her hairline. His brought his hand up and very gently - careful not to accidentally brush the enraged skin - brushed her hair back off her face.

"If you're forcing yourself to stay up because you're worried about, like, hurting my arm or something-"

"No," he said, cutting her off before she could complete her thought. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Rick's eyes dropped to the floor as Esposito's words echoed in his mind: She doesn't need to be coddled... this is more than just a job to her. He didn't want his concern, his protective and possibly too-caring nature, to be a cause of contention between them. He could accept the risks of her job - he really could - but that didn't mean he wouldn't worry, that he wouldn't want to be there for her, to nurse her back to health.

He wanted to be the one who was there for her when she needed someone.

And he never wanted her to have to ask for that because a large part of him suspected that she never would.

Every cop has seen this play out a hundred times. Either you understand, or you don't.

"I just want to keep an eye on you," he said as he shrugged his shoulders casually. "Can't really do that if I'm asleep."

Kate's unharmed brow lifted into a perfect arch. "Keep an eye on me?"

"Yeah, you know... make sure you don't slip into a coma or anything."

She dipped her head and lifted her hand to her mouth, hiding the wide smile that stretched across her face.

"Rick, I'm fine," she reassured him.

He disagreed. "You suffered a head injury-"

"It's not that bad," she insisted. "And the whole coma spiel is really just a worst-case, cover-their-asses kind of thing."

Rick remained silent as he processed her assurances, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to argue but couldn't quite decide if it was worth it or not.

"I promise I am okay. Just a little sore and groggy." His shoulders relaxed as he conceded and Kate smiled victoriously. "And tired," she added. "Because normal people are usually fast asleep at two in the morning."

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Go back to bed then," he retorted. He placed his hand on her hip and leaned closer to press a kiss to her cheek.

She all but fell into his embrace, wrapping her uninjured arm around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest, her head tucked carefully in the crook of his neck.

"Come with me?" she whispered when he closed his arms around her body.

She knew he was still hesitant, still sick with worry (despite his best efforts to put on a brave face for her) and frustrated because he just wanted to help but didn't know how - or if - he could.

She wished she was better at this: letting him in, being vulnerable.

She wished she could find the words to tell him that he was helping just by being there.

She wished she wasn't too proud to tell him that she was scared, that the rare but confronting reminder of just how quickly you can lose control of a situation had shaken her to her very core, that she needed him because his presence alone was enough to smother the fear that infiltrated her dreamland and threatened to overwhelm her completely.

"Please. I just-" She took a deep breath, pulled herself from his arms and looked up into his eyes. "I want you to hold me. If that's okay?"

Rick smiled, nodded his head. "Of course that's okay."

A loud bang resounded through the loft, violently pulling the pair from what had been a peaceful slumber.

Kate groaned and lifted her hands to cover her face as she rolled away from Rick, curling her body into a fetal position.

"You 'kay?" Rick asked, his voice nothing more than a sleepy rasp.

He cleared his throat and lifted his head to look around. Golden rays of morning sunlight filtered through his curtains, casting shadows across his room. It was quiet - serene - nothing to suggest anything out of the ordinary was going on. Certainly nothing to have so abruptly disturbed his sleep, anyway. He turned to look at the woman beside him - still partially asleep with an adorable scowl on her face - and he couldn't help but smile.

Doesn't like to be woken, he noted.

"Kate," he whispered loud enough to know she had definitely heard him. "Are you awake?"

She didn't answer.

"Kate," he whispered again. He poked his index finger to her shoulder blade, watched her lips twitch as she tried to suppress a smile. "Are you really pretending to be asleep? You child."

Her eyes shot open and she turned to glare at him. But, in her haste to express her dislike of his accusation, she turned too quickly and aggravated the abused muscles of her torso. She gasped and wrapped her arms around her abdomen before curling up once more, groaning.

Rick's sympathetic grimace, however, quickly turned to a look of surprise.

"Dad!" he heard Alexis call out from somewhere on the other side of his bedroom walls.

Her voice was firm, a certain anger bubbling just below the surface.

"Dad?" she called out again; this time with a hint of concern added to her tone.

"Oh, shit," he whispered harshly to himself as he leapt from the bed.

His sudden movement was, evidently, enough to push Kate through any pain she had been feeling and she slipped from his sheets just moments after he did.

"What?" she asked, her voice mimicking his own panic. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot," he mumbled before rushing out of the room.

He raced through the office, skidded through the bookcase partitions that offered only the smallest amount of privacy from the main living portion of his home. His daughter was standing in the kitchen, his mother by her side, both looking at him disapprovingly.

"I am so sorry, Alexis," he started grovelling.

His mother put up her hand, a silent order for him to not bother with his apologies or explanations.

He saw it, he understood it.

He chose to ignore it.

"I didn't realise the time," he excused. His eyes darted around the room in search for the clock he had to have here somewhere. "Actually, what even is the time?"

Kate would probably need more pain relief soon.

"That's it?" Alexis asked. She crossed her arms in front of her. "It's almost nine. You were supposed to pick me up two hours ago."

"I know, Pumpkin. I'm so sorry, I just-" He looked over his shoulder to the bedroom. He knew his daughter - the kind and caring young woman that she was - would understand if he just explained the situation. He turned back to face her, began to explain. "I was up later than intended and I forgot to set an alarm. Kate-"

"You left me waiting for a hook up?" she asked him.

The offence was so evident in her voice, in the disappointed shake of his mother's head. Did they really think so little of him?

"No," he clarified.

"I'm sorry."

All three family members turned their attention toward the short corridor near the entrance, the one that led to Rick's bedroom. Kate stood, nervously fiddling with the splint on her left wrist as she forced herself to face his family.

The women in the kitchen tried to hide their surprise when they took in the sight of her: bruised and battered and just a little bit broken.

"It's my fault," she continued to apologise, to defend him against the accusations that should have been just as insulting to her as they had been to him. "I had... an accident at work and I, uh-" She turned to Rick, her eyes silently pleading for him to step in at any time and finish this awkward apology on her behalf.

"Concussion," he offered. "Someone had to keep an eye on her, make sure she wasn't trying to operate heavy machinery and such."

"Are you okay?" Alexis asked Kate, her eyes still glued to the deepening purple bruise on the detective's forehead.

Kate smiled awkwardly. "It probably looks worse than it really is."

"I'm sorry, Alexis," Rick said once more, hoping his daughter could find it in her heart to set her frustrations aside.

The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other, crossed her arms in front of her body.

"Well obviously it's okay," she conceded. "Now that I know what happened."

"It's not okay," Rick insisted. "I dropped the ball, left you stranded. It won't happen again."

Alexis nodded, accepted her father's apology.

"Why didn't you call, though?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I was mad."

"She called me, I was just a few blocks away, it's all sorted now!" Martha declared. "No harm, no foul. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a brunch to get ready for." She sauntered out of the kitchen and toward the staircase. She stopped at the bottom step and looked over to Kate. "It is good to see you again, my dear."

Kate returned the sentiment with a nervous smile. "You too, Martha."

"Wait-" Rick frowned. "Again?"

Martha looked over her shoulder and smirked at her son, mischief dancing in her eyes.

"Vitamin K cream may help a little with the bruising," the woman told Kate before heading upstairs.

Kate took slow, cautious steps as she moved further into the living area of the loft: partially due to the tension she had unwittingly caused between father and daughter, and partially because the throbbing pain in her head had left her feeling just a little bit dizzy and nauseated.

Vigilant (as always), Rick had already begun to drift closer to her. His eagle-eyes were on her: watching, waiting.

"How's it feeling?" he asked as he reached up and brushed her hair away from the sterile-strip covered wound.

Kate wrapped her hand around his wrist and - regretfully - pulled away from his touch. "It's fine."

It wasn't that his touch was unwelcome, not at all. But his daughter being right there, watching them: it made her uneasy.

Vulnerability in front of Rick was one thing. Allowing his family to see her like this when she thought she had landed him in some kind of trouble with them, that was another. But allowing him to care for her? Allowing herself to want to be cared for? That was something she wasn't ready for anyone else to see.

"I should probably get going," she said softly.

"You don't have to leave because of me," Alexis insisted.

"It's not because of you," Kate assured the girl before turning her attention back to Rick. "Sorry you got stuck babysitting me."

"I don't consider myself stuck, more like the chosen one," he joked.

Kate huffed out a small laugh.

"Why don't you have something to eat first?"

"Rick-" she began to protest.

"Just a piece of toast," he bargained. "And maybe a some tea to help wash down the pain killers. You really should be taking them with food."

She sighed as she started to realise that arguing with him was probably just going to be a waste of the little energy she had.

"And then I'll drive you home," Rick added as if to sweeten the deal.

Kate looked over to Alexis and the girl smiled, nodded her head encouragingly.

"Okay," she relented, looking back at Rick. "But I am capable of making it myself."

"Of course you are," he said, a victorious grin on his face.

She definitely wasn't feeling any better than she had the day before.

Her head was pounding. Spinning. Floating.

At this point it didn't even feel like it was still attached to her body. Her aching, fatigued body.

But Rick was there, right by her side, easing her burden as they walked - slowly - down the hall to Lanie's apartment. The door was in sight: so close, yet so far.

His arm wrapped around her waist; tight enough to support some of her weight but he was careful not to put too much pressure on the tender muscles and ribs.

"You doing okay?" Rick asked for the second time since leaving his car just a few minutes ago. "We're almost there."

"Honestly, I just want to sleep," she admitted.

She didn't miss the grimace on his face - and she was sure he was compiling a mental list of notes to pass on to Lanie the second Kate was through the door. She wanted to be annoyed... but she couldn't help the slight smile that tugged the corners of her mouth upward.

Soft vibrations against his hip pulled his focus. Just seconds later, the sound of his phone ringing echoed against the cream-coloured walls.

"D'you need to get that?" Kate groaned, slowing her pace even more.

"Nope," he stated quickly. "Just ignore it. My hands are full anyway," he added, lifting the cotton tote bag Alexis had lent him that held Kate's clothes from yesterday.

She'd opted out of putting her bloodied button-up on, stayed in Rick's sweatshirt instead. She, of course, swapped the boxer shorts for a more socially acceptable pair of sweatpants but she definitely didn't look her best as she hobbled down the hallway.

"I appreciate your help," she said softly as Rick's phone continued to ring.

Just as they reached the apartment door, it opened and Lanie stepped out into the hallway with her phone pressed to her ear.

"I was just calling you," she said as she hung up and tucked her phone into her pocket.

"Why?" Rick asked as he dropped the tote bag against the wall. "Is everything okay?"

Lanie looked at Kate; gave her a once over and a sympathetic smile.

"Your dad is here."

Kate stiffened, straightened her posture and pulled herself from Rick's side. "Why?"

"I got a concerned call."

She heard the voice just seconds before her father stepped out from behind the door. His eyes slowly shifted up and down, taking in the sight of his battered daughter.

"Katie," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I was going to call you," she began: immediately on the defence.

"When?"

Lanie recoiled, slowly stepped back into her apartment and ducked out of sight.

Rick wished he could follow her. Instead, he seemed stuck right in the middle of an interaction he had no interest in being a part of.

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. When I looked a little less like an extra in a horror movie."

The older man's eyes narrowed as he took another moment to study his daughters injuries. Then, he smiled.

"I would have said a tragedy," he commented. "But I get the gist."

The man opened his arms and Kate stepped forward into his embrace.

"What happened?" he asked as he gently rubbed a hand up and down his daughter's back.

She shook her head. "Stupid mistake." She pulled back and looked up at him. "Hold on. Who called you?"

"Who d'you think?"

Adam.

Kate groaned. "Asshole."

"He wanted to make sure you made it home safe."

"Sure he did," she said sarcastically. "He knows I'm staying here."

Her father nodded. "I know. I told him you were fine and to lose my number. And then I waited for you to call." The man's eyes peeled away from his daughter and he looked at Rick - pointedly so - before returning back to Kate. "I see you were busy."

Kate sighed. "Rick, this is my dad-"

"Jim," he said with a smile as he stepped forward and held out his hand.

Rick accepted it, shook it firmly as he introduced himself. "Rick. It's nice to meet you, Sir."

"Please; just Jim."

"Right. Jim."

"Thank you for looking after Katie," the man said earnestly. He looked back at Kate and smiled as he glanced over her outfit. "For making sure she's comfortable."

Kate folded her arms across her torso as if trying to hide herself. "I'll, uh- I'll get these back to you-"

"Don't worry about it," Rick assured her.

He bent and picked up the tote from the floor, giving it one last check to make sure all her belongings were inside of it.

"She's due for more pain meds in about three hours," he said aloud to no-one in particular as he dug through the bag.

"Rick, I'm perfectly capable of remembering-"

"I know, I'm sorry. I just- I like to make sure." He looked up from the bag and into her eyes. "It makes me feel a little less... useless."

Kate snatched the bag from his hands. "You're not useless," she corrected him.

Rick smiled. He appreciated her attempt but the slight wince she had tried to hide after taking the bag from his hands only served as a reminder that she wasn't okay right now. He turned to her father.

"She's been really tired."

"Rick!" she whined.

Jim chuckled to himself.

"I'm sorry!" Rick held his hands up in surrender. "I'm going now!"

He began to back away, smiling.

"Wait." She sighed and he stopped. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "For... everything."

For letting her stay, for taking care of her, for not pushing her for things she wasn't ready for: talking about Adam, getting to know her father. She knew he was curious about these aspects of her life and she appreciated his restraint more than he would ever know.

Rick smiled. "Any time."

He turned and started to walk back down the hall. After just a few steps he slowed, turned to face her.

"Call me," he said, still slowly walking backwards. "You know, only if you're feeling up to it."

"I will," she assured him.

She watched as he walked away; waited until he disappeared around the corner at the other end of the hall before slowly turning to find her father had been watching her the whole time.

"What?" she asked.

She moved past him, into the apartment and waited for him to follow her inside before closing the door behind them.

"So... that's Rick," he stated.

"Yep," Kate confirmed, adding a little extra pop to the last syllable. "That's Rick."

"He seems... nice," Jim commented. "Seems to really care about you."

"It's adorable, right?" Lanie added, all too giddy for Kate's liking.

Kate glared at her friend. "He's a good friend."

Jim and Lanie exchanged an amused glance, both trying (not hard enough) to hide the matching smirks on their faces.

"Oh, shut up," Kate grumbled.

She dropped the tote bag by the bookshelf and made a beeline for the couch.

"I didn't say anything," Lanie defended herself as she watched Kate flop down onto the couch and pull the blanket over herself. She walked over and sat by her friend's feet, placed a hand over Kate's blanketed hip. "You have to admit, though: it is kinda cute that he wants to take care of you."

Kate stared at her friend for a moment, then looked at her father.

"He made me soup," she told them, like it was some deep confession.

Jim pursed his lips, deep in thought.

"Good soup?" he asked after a moment's thought.

"Really good soup."

Chapter Text

"Was it really that bad?"

Rick looked down at Kate when she sighed and stared at the take-out box of noodles in her hands. The practically untouched take-out box of noodles in her hands. Her chair was pulled right up to his and she had spent most of the fifteen minutes that they'd all been sitting around Lanie's dining table leaning against his side, her head resting on his shoulder. A few days had passed since the incident - as everyone seemed to be calling it - and Kate had been feeling much better: the fatigue was wearing off, the feelings of dizziness and weakness were nothing more than a bad memory and her pain was significantly more tolerable than it had been. But no one seemed to be questioning the closeness or the supportive arm around her waist and Kate seemed intent on taking advantage of that peace while it lasted.

"When I was, like, four or five years old I was kicking a ball around the front yard with my neighbour." Kate began to tell her story, still staring into the void of her black bean noodles. "I kicked the ball too hard. It hit the fence post and rebounded across the road. I didn't even look before chasing after it."

Rick shifted his arm from around her waist, up to curl around her shoulders and gave her a very gentle squeeze.

"There was this old, beat up car speeding down the street and my dad- he just, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He just yelled at me: don't be so careless, Katie! It was the first time I remember him yelling at me. Like, not just raising his voice. He was truly yelling."

Rick combed his fingers through her hair. "He would have been scared."

Kate nodded, I know. Then, she looked up into Rick's eyes. He could see the guilt she felt. "Montgomery had that same look in his eyes."

"You know he's got a soft spot for you," Esposito said before taking a bite of egg roll. He chewed quickly - as if he hadn't eaten all week - and swallowed it down with a gulp. "You got this weird father-daughter bond thing going on."

"He's my mentor," she explained with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Esposito shook his head. "Nah, it's more than that."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Either way, the Captain has never yelled at me like that," she grumbled.

"It was nothing compared to the ass-chewing we got," Ryan complained, wagging a finger back and forth between himself and Espo. "I'm the one who got shot!"

"Bro. Your vest got shot," Esposito corrected.

Ryan glared at him. "Two inches higher and you'd be crying into that Pad Thai, bro."

"You wish."

The chuckle had barely left Esposito's lips before Ryan tossed a half-eaten dumpling at him.

"Hey!" he whined before picking it up from where it landed in his lap and pegging it back at his partner.

"I am not cleaning little bits of dumpling up from all around my apartment," Lanie warned and the flinging of food came to a very sudden halt.

"Sorry," the boys muttered quietly and in almost perfect unison.

Kate looked at Rick - her hand over her mouth to try and hide the laughter she was holding back - and shook her head, rolled her eyes in a way that screamed they're such children.

It had been days since he had seen that genuine smile of hers; he just couldn't help himself. With a smile, he leaned closer and pressed a very gentle kiss to the waves of hair that framed her face. He expected her to pull back - he always let her be the one to decide how much affection was shown in front of her friends - but she just smiled, placed her hand over his knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Do you know when you'll be back yet?" Ryan asked, pulling her focus away from Rick.

She looked at him blankly for a short moment as she processed the question asked. "Uh, two weeks medical leave," she repeated the order from Montgomery (albeit, in a much gentler tone). She held up her bandaged wrist. "Gotta get this checked and get a doctor to clear me for work. I have a feeling I'll be tied to a desk for a while, though."

"Sounds good to me," Rick mumbled before shovelling a spoonful of Special Fried Rice into his mouth. Kate glared as he chewed and forcefully swallowed his dinner. "What? A nine to five desk job: I might actually get to see you occasionally," he joked.

But no one was blamed him for the many other reasons he didn't mind the idea of her being stuck behind a desk. They'd all been there before.

Jenny offered Rick a sympathetic smile.

"Hate to burst your bubble, Castle, but your girl just became the most sought-after detective in the precinct," Esposito said casually.

Your girl didn't go unnoticed but Rick chose not to comment, not to draw attention to it. Instead, he focused on every other part of Espo's statement.

"What do you mean?"

"Checking alibis, going through LUDs and financials: tied to the desk is just a slightly nicer way of saying at the beck and call of every team in the precinct," he explained.

"Don't forget the all important lunch run," Ryan added.

Espo nodded at Ryan's addition. "Beckett's going to be busier than ever before."

"Seriously?" Rick sighed, turned to look at Kate.

Kate looked at him apologetically. "I'm free as a bird this week," she said weakly, an offer of consolation.

"Summer break," he said, disheartened. "As one of the few parents with a flexible schedule, I usually play chaperone for all the college resume building activities. So, unless you wanted to spend your time off with half a dozen teenage girls..." he let the sentence trail off when he saw Kate's grimace. "That's what I thought," he added with a smile.

"I mean- if you wanted some company-"

"Don't you think you've suffered enough over the past few days?," he joked. But the gentle brush of his thumb along her purple-stained forehead was anything but insincere.

She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his hand, slowly pulled it away. "I'm not suffering, Rick."

"You're still in pain," he argued.

"Not as bad."

"And getting headaches."

"That's a mild inconvenience," she assured him. "At most."

Rick smiled. "You're Superwoman."

"Something like that."

Lanie cleared her throat. "You guys are super cute and all but I'm starting to feel like I'm intruding."

Kate ducked her head, hid her face behind her hand as she laughed. "Sorry."

Rick's phone began to ring and he pulled it from his pocket to check the caller ID.

"Oh, excuse me for a second," he said quietly.

Kate pulled herself away from him as he rose from his chair and stepped away from the dining table.

"Alexis, your ears must have been burning," he quipped with a smile.

His smile faded quickly, though, and the group could partially hear the girl's rushed words through the phone's speaker.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," he said before hanging up.

Kate stood and walked toward Rick. "Everything okay?" she asked.

"I have to go," Rick replied with a sigh.

"I gathered." Kate smiled, tilted her head as she tried to read his expression. He seemed just as uninformed as she was, though. "Alexis sounded... upset."

"She said she is fine but she needs me home immediately." He stepped forward, placed a hand on Kate's hip and quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay."

Kate watched as Rick waved goodbye to the rest of the group and rushed out the door.

"So..." Esposito drawled once the door closed behind Rick.

Kate turned slowly, narrowed her eyes at her friend. The question on the tip of his tongue remained unspoken.

But only for several seconds.

"Are you guys together or what?" Lanie blurted.

Rick tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently. His building's elevator had never felt so slow. When the carriage finally came to a stop and the doors slid open, he practically ran down the hallway toward his home.

"Alexis?" he called out as he entered.

He stopped in his tracks when he noticed the bright red suitcase at the bottom of the staircase.

"Is everything okay?"

"Dad!" Alexis called out from the top of the stairs.

Rick looked up, noted the wide-eyed, apologetic look on his daughter's face. He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head curiously.

And then she appeared: all poise and elegance, with that mischievous smile she wore so well. "Hey, Kitten."

"Meredith," Rick greeted, coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Alexis began to answer before her mother had the chance. "I was on the phone to Mum the other night and I was telling her all about my Summer plans-"

"I just wanted to do my part and help our wonderful daughter out," Meredith finished for her.

"Oh, did you now?" Rick groaned.

Meredith stepped around Alexis and descended the stairs.

"Did you know one of Alexis' friends is the daughter of Ryan Pettman?"

"He's a screenwriter," Alexis explained, knowing all too well what her mother's intentions were.

"I'm aware." Rick scrubbed a hand over his face, tried to wipe the disappointment from his expression. "Pettman's a busy guy, Mer. You won't meet him."

Meredith's sweet smile faded. "Oh."

"You're still going to stay, though. Right?" Alexis asked.

"Of course!"

"Where are you stay-" Rick stopped mid-sentence, looking back at the luggage by the stairs. He sighed, heavily, as he realised he already knew exactly where she planned on staying. "How long are you here for?"

"As long as my baby needs me," Meredith answered cheerily.

Rick looked back up to his daughter, still standing nervously at the top of the stairs.

Sorry, she mouthed.

He tilted his head to the side and the girl nodded her understanding of his silent request for a little privacy. She turned on her heel and went back into her bedroom.

Once he heard the door close, he spoke.

"You could have called."

Meredith shrugged off his anger. "I wanted to surprise Alexis."

"I would have kept the surprise."

"Oh, please," Meredith scoffed. "You always ruin the surprise."

"You can't just show up on my door step and expect to stay indefinitely," he complained.

His ex-wife smiled and stepped down the last few steps, coming to a stop in front of him. She placed her hand on his chest and looked up at him through fluttering lashes.

"You've never had an issue with it before."

Rick sighed. Again. "No, I've just never told you I've had an issue-"

"Because I always make it worth your while," she interrupted. "Right?"

He hated that, yes, she was right. No matter how frustrated he would get when she showed up out of the blue, his frustrations would never last long. She always did know how to... distract him, how to ease his anger, how to make it all better. Even after their marriage fell apart she knew she could use the same tried-and-true methods to get what she wanted from him.

"Not this time," he told her.

She dropped her hand from his chest and frowned. "Why not?"

"How long do you plan on staying?" he asked in attempt to change the subject. "I can get you a room somewhere. But you can't stay here."

"I only get so much time with my daughter, Rick. Are you really going to limit it even more?"

"Talk to her," he said. "Maybe she can stay with you? It'll be like a slumber party," he suggested.

Meredith folded her arms across her chest. "Wow. Are you really that against me staying?"

"I'm sorry, Meredith. It's just not a good idea right now."

"Why?" she asked again. Then she realised. "You're dating her now? The girl from the club."

She laughed, as if the thought was preposterous.

"It's none of your business," he warned. "You can either accept my offer to put you up somewhere or you can find somewhere yourself but, I'm sorry, you can't stay here."

Meredith pouted and huffed, like a displeased child. But she schooled her expression quickly, donning her best poker face.

"Alexis," she called out cheerily.

The girl appeared at the top of the staircase.

"How do you feel about a girl's weekend at the Four Seasons?" Meredith asked Alexis. "We can get mani-pedi's and facials and massages!"

"Really?" Alexis asked, looking to her father for confirmation.

"Anything you want, Pumpkin," he confirmed with a smile. "I figured some quality time with your mother should be a priority while she is in town. It's not often you get to spend time just the two of you." He looked at Meredith. "Not without having to fly cross-country first," he added.

Alexis frowned at her father - a silent scolding for his petty remark - but chose not to call him out.

"Sounds good," she said to her mother.

"Go pack a bag," Meredith instructed.

As soon as Alexis was out of sight again, Meredith turned her attention back to Rick.

"Better book a room," she said before casually strutting toward the kitchen and helping herself to a drink from the refrigerator.

Just a little over an hour later he was sitting alone on the couch in his big, empty, too-quiet loft.

He had managed to book a two bedroom suite at the Four Seasons for the full week. Not that he wanted Meredith to stay that long, but he had heard the sadness in his daughter's voice when she thought her mother would be leaving again. He hated the fact that Alexis only saw her mother for a few days here and there throughout the year, despised that she was left yearning for that familial relationship - much like he always had with his father - but he couldn't force Meredith to be more than a part-time mother. He had tried; that didn't work out well for any of them.

Besides, Alexis had been thrilled by the idea of spending a few days alone in a luxury hotel with her mother - and Rick knew he would do anything (and suffer through any amount of time in close proximity to Meredith) to see his daughter's bright smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

Still, with his mother visiting a friend in Paris and his daughter's unexpected absence, the silence was deafening.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled the number he should probably just add to speed dial at this point. He smiled as soon as the line connected and the sound of her quiet greeting filled his ear.

"Hey stranger," she said, and he could almost hear the smile on her face. "Is Alexis okay?"

"She's fine," he answered as he leant back into the cushions of the couch. "I'm not," he added in a grumble.

"You wanna talk about it?" she offered.

Rick sighed. As much as he would have loved to vent his frustrations, he didn't want to put it all on Kate. It wasn't her problem, he wouldn't want to make it her problem. He just wanted to talk to her - he'd talk about anything else.

"I have a better idea."

She hummed her curiosity. "And what would that be?"

"You should stay with me," he said confidently. "Here, in the loft. It's just me for the weekend. You don't have work, I have an actual bed that you can sleep in and I would really love the company."

"What happened to your chaperoning duties?"

"Let's just say I have been temporarily relived of said duties," he told her, avoiding too much detail. "You said you were free as a bird this week and, now, so am I. It seems as though fate is on our side."

"Fate, hey?" Kate's chuckle echoed through the phone; the sound made his heart flutter and his stomach clench as he hoped she would accept his spontaneous offer.

"Don't tell me you're not a believer," he replied.

"I wasn't," she said quietly and his heart almost burst as it filled with hope.

She remained silent as she considered his request. Just a few short seconds; he chewed his bottom lip anxiously.

"When do you want me?"

Chapter Text

"You know, my brain is telling me to play it cool but it is also telling me I can be back at yours in, like, less than twenty minutes."

Kate laughed; it truly was such a beautiful sound.

"That doesn't give me much time to pack an overnight bag," she said.

"Well, I mean, you're kinda already packed," Rick said, cautiously tiptoeing the line between 'funny joke' and 'carelessly blunt reminder that her life has been confined to a single suitcase'. "I don't mind lugging that thing across town if it means I get to see you tonight."

Seconds of silence dragged on. He thought he had crossed a line - used humour to make light of a situation she found too heavy - but then she huffed out the tiniest little laugh and Rick's lungs filled with the air he didn't realise he had deprived himself.

"So you obviously decided against playing it cool," she teased.

"Well, I've never really been that good at it."

. . . . .

"Well, I've never really been that good at it," Rick confessed.

Kate caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she smiled and shook her head.

No, in her experience he hadn't been very good at playing it cool. But she loved that. He didn't play games, didn't try to hide the fact that he wanted her: all of her, not just her body.

"I can pick you up in the morning if you'd prefer," he offered.

"No," she replied quickly.

Too quickly to ever pretend that she was any better at playing it cool than Rick was. But that was the thing: she never felt like she had to play it cool when she was with him. That was what she was used to doing, what she had always done, but the second it was just the two of them it was like all these silly little dating rules just didn't apply. They did what they wanted, when they wanted, how they wanted. No rules, no labels, just them. It was something she was still getting used to, but it was refreshing. A part of her wondered if he struggled as much as she did: he seemed like such a natural at this whole take each day as it comes thing.

"Tonight is good." She looked over to the closed door of Lanie's bedroom and sighed. "Give me thirty minutes?"

"I'll see you in thirty," he confirmed before ending the call.

Kate dropped the phone from her ear, hugged it to her chest as she continued to stare at the bedroom door.

As soon as Rick had left the apartment earlier - when there was no outsider to put on a brave face for - the atmosphere of the apartment had dampened; rapidly and significantly. As soon as the front door had clicked shut, Esposito's mask had dropped. Too caught up in Lanie's questioning, Kate hadn't noticed right away.

But Ryan did.

His reassurances were ineffective; Esposito just brushed him off.

You did what you had to.

That didn't make it any easier.

Any one of us would have done the same.

But they didn't: he did. Esposito took the shot that saved Beckett's life and ended Radley's.

It wasn't the first life he had taken and it likely wouldn't be the last.

That didn't make it any easier.

Lanie had taken his hand, silently led him to the bedroom and Kate hadn't seen (or heard) them since.

Maybe spending the weekend at Rick's was the best option for everyone.

Kate opened the messaging app on her phone and sent a text to Lanie asking if she was still awake. She didn't want to knock, didn't want to interrupt anything.

She put her phone down on the coffee table and then pulled her suitcase out from behind the couch. She knelt and unzipped the bag then stared into the mess of clothing it held. With a sigh, she began to sort.

"Everything okay?" she heard from behind her, just a few minutes later.

Kate looked up from the sorted piles of clothing in front of her and turned to face her friend. "Hey. Sorry, did I wake you?"

Lanie shook her head as she walked toward the living room. "No. I just wanted to make sure Javi was properly asleep before I left." She sighed heavily and flopped down onto the couch.

"How is he?" Kate asked although she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

Lanie shrugged. "He's okay, I guess."

Kate looked over toward the bedroom again; tried to swallow down the guilt and sorrow that sat too thick in her throat.

"Just give it a few more days," she said. She looked to her friend: slumped over on the couch looking more defeated than ever before. "A new case will take his mind off of it. But having to stare at me all day long isn't exactly helpful."

Lanie offer a weak smile. "I just wish he would talk to me."

"It's complicated Lanie," Kate excused. She knew that - to Lanie - that didn't offer much consolation, but she didn't know what else there was to say. "All else aside: he took a life. I'd be more concerned if he wasn't taking it hard."

"He took the life of a cold-blooded killer," Lanie defended him.

Kate sighed. "I know that. We all know that. But Espo isn't thinking about Radley's victims." She stood, walked toward the couch and then flopped down beside her friend. "Radley had a wife, a son. They are who Espo is thinking about."

Lanie closed her eyes, fought back the tears that just wouldn't go away.

Kate placed her hand over Lanie's, laced their fingers together and leant her head on Lanie's shoulder.

"He'll be okay," she reassured her.

She felt the movement of Lanie nodding.

"I know."

"Just look at how much fun he was having at dinner."

Lanie scoffed at the memory of dumplings being flung across the table.

"He just needs time," Kate said again.

Lanie's arms wrapped around Kate and they sat together - in a comfortable, supportive silence - for several minutes while Lanie calmed the wild beating of her heart and the chaotic frenzy of her concerned thoughts.

"Are you going somewhere?" Lanie asked, pulling away from Kate's embrace.

"Oh, uh- I was going to stay with Ri-"

"Oh my God!" Lanie interrupted. "Why did you let me yap on for so long?"

"If you need me to stay-"

"Don't be ridiculous." Lanie pulled herself from the couch and moved to kneel in front of Kate's bag. "I can help you pack."

Kate smiled and shook her head before slipping off the couch onto her knees. "I don't think I need help."

Lanie scoffed. "Considering the one sexy bra you have-" She curled her index finger around the strap of the lacy garment and lifted it, allowing it to dangle mid-air in between them. "is still in your suitcase tells me that yes, you do need my help."

"I'm sorry that my first thought when fleeing my home wasn't to pack my finest lingerie," Kate said sarcastically. She snatched the bra from Lanie and tossed it back into the suitcase, rolling her eyes in the process. "Besides, I don't think Rick cares what underwear I'm wearing, Lanie."

"I think you're sorely mistaken," Lanie mumbled back as she dove into the piles of clothing. "I saw the way he looked at you when you got all dressed up for that book launch." She looked up at Kate and smirked. "He really seems like the type of guy who appreciates the wrapping, not just the gift inside."

Kate shook her head. "Well, that was before he knew the gift inside was for him."

Lanie froze, looked at her friend slack-jawed. "Is that what this is?" she asked. "The start of something... official?"

"No," Kate insisted, but something in her voice didn't sound certain.

Lanie pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes and tilted her head: a silent request for clarification.

"We haven't really talked about it," Kate said with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, shouldn't you? I mean, how do you know where you stand if you're not talking about it? How do you know when it's time to become exclusive?"

"He spends his time either writing, with his daughter or with me: I don't think he's seeing anyone else."

"But unless you have the conversation you don't know for sure."

Kate looked down at the clothes in her hands. "What if I don't want to know?"

Lanie smiled and shook her head. "You know the guy is obsessed with you, right?"

"He's enthusiastic," Kate agreed with a smile. "But that's just his nature."

"Nuh-uh. The guy is smitten. However, I would hate for you to get your heart broken again because of some silly misunderstanding."

Kate folded the shirt in her hands, stuffed it into her overnight bag as she allowed Lanie's concerns to swirl in her mind.

Some silly misunderstanding...

But Rick had said that he would wait. An hour, or a day, or a year...

She hadn't believed him in the moment, but she held onto those words like a sacred vow now. She trusted that he had meant them.

She just hoped that didn't make her the fool. Again.

"So what exactly will you be doing?" Lanie asked. Her curiosity pulled Kate from her thoughts and she looked up, noted her friend's smirk. "I mean, apart from the obvious," Lanie said suggestively. "Will you be needing a nice dinner dress? Swimwear? Your skimpiest sleep shorts?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "He didn't say but I don't particularly want to go out anywhere." She pointed to her forehead. "People just stare."

"Can you blame 'em?"

Kate glared, but any iciness in her stare melted away when Lanie chuckled: she was just glad this seemed to be entertaining her friend enough to offer even just a slight distraction.

"Can you just pack a few things you think will be appropriate?" Kate asked, her tone warning yet playful. She used her uninjured arm to hold onto the couch and steady herself as she rose to her feet. "I'm just going to grab some toiletries."

She was in the bathroom for five minutes, sorting through the contents of her make up bag and deciding what she would and would not need. Concealer, of course, to offset the discolouration of her skin. Foundation, eyeliner, a neutral lip gloss. She didn't think she would be needing any of it, didn't think they would be venturing too far from the loft let alone going anywhere that would require a more done up look. To be safe she tossed a small eyeshadow palette, a lipstick and bronzer into the smaller toiletry bag she planned to take with her; alongside her toothbrush, hair brush, body wash and other necessities.

As Kate walked back to the living area, there was a knock at the front door.

"I got it," Lanie called out, not realising Kate had returned. She opened the door to greet Rick. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?"

"What can I say?" Rick said with a smile. "I missed that beautiful smile of yours."

Lanie chuckled and stepped aside to let Rick in.

He walked further into the apartment, smiling as he noticed Kate's small, overstuffed backpack.

"You ready?" he asked her.

"Mhmm." She zipped up her suitcase. "I'll just pop this back."

"I've got it," he insisted as he grabbed the luggage handle and lifted it from the floor.

"Thanks." Kate rose to her feet and, as Rick slid her suitcase back behind the couch, she turned her attention to Lanie. "Now, you're sure you-"

"Yes!" her friend insisted. "Go!"

"If you need me-"

"I'll call, I promise." Lanie moved forward and wrapped her arms around Kate, squeezing her tight. "Go, have fun," she insisted.

"She's just a call away," Rick said as he joined them. He took the backpack from Kate's hand, placed his free hand on her lower back. "I can have her back here in record time."

Lanie rolled her eyes at Kate. "Girl-"

"Okay! I'm going!"

She had suspected he was up to something from the moment they pulled up outside of his building. He had practically leaped from the car, her bag still in his hand, pulling her along with him. She had asked what he was up to, of course. And he had played dumb, of course. But by the time they reached his front door, he couldn't keep the excited grin from his face.

Rick unlocked the door and took a small step backward, motioning for her to enter first.

Hesitantly, she pushed the wooden door open.

Her jaw dropped.

The lights were off but the entire bottom floor of the loft was illuminated by the golden flicker of candlelight and the soft sounds of Coltrane floated through the air. She stepped over the threshold and into his home, drawn toward the space that seemed tailor-made just for her. Her eyes scanned the room as she tried to memorise each small detail of the romantic scene: the flameless candles; the smooth jazz; the slightly fruity, slightly floral scent that reminded her of early Spring mornings at her Great-Grandmother's cottage. It was as if Rick had been taking notes throughout their many late-night conversations, keeping track of every time she had mentioned something she loved until he had enough information to create something so special for her.

Kate turned around to face him, to thank him for such a romantic gesture but when she saw him standing by his door, watching her with an adoring smile on his face, the words just wouldn't come.

"You didn't have to do all this," she managed to say.

She took a few small steps closer and he did the same, meeting her halfway.

"I wanted to," he told her.

She placed her hands on his chest and her fingertips toyed with the collar of his shirt.

"Thank you," she whispered before leaning forward and gently pressing her lips to his.

Rick dropped her backpack, lifted his hands to so delicately frame her face and pulled back to look into her eyes.

Kate smiled. She knew the soft flicker of lighting would only highlight the glimmering emotion in her eyes, that (in this moment) Rick could more than likely read her like a book but she didn't care. She didn't want to try and hold it back. She felt safe being vulnerable with him, felt safe showing him how she felt. And right now, she had never appreciated anyone like she appreciated Rick.

She could see that he wanted to say something, that he was holding back.

"What?" she asked, a slight giggle hidden in her tone.

She knew what she thought he was thinking, what she hoped he was thinking.

A part of her knew she wasn't ready to hear it. Another part of her was almost desperate for it.

But he dropped his hands from her face, shook his head. "Nothing." He turned his body away from her and looked toward the kitchen. "Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat."

Kate narrowed her eyes. "We had dinner together," she reminded him.

"I know. But you mostly just picked at your food. If you're hungry-"

"Rick-" Kate reached out and grabbed his hand, drawing his attention back to herself. "Is everything okay?"

Rick sighed. "Yeah. Everything is fine," he said softly. "I just- I realised this might look like I'm-"

"Trying to impress me?" she asked, confused as to how that might be a bad thing.

"Like I'm trying to rush you," he clarified. "I just- I'm a romantic. And I want you to see that, I want you to benefit from that because you deserve to be romanced. I'm just trying not to be too much, you know? And I realise that this might be-"

"It's perfect," she interrupted. "I think you're doing a great job of showing off your talents."

"Yeah?"

She nodded and hummed her confirmation as she moved closer and hooked a finger over one of the buttons of his shirt. "I also think that you think too much," she added.

"That is something that I have never been told before," he joked.

Kate smiled and shook her head, cut off any further attempts of humour with her mouth on his: an interruption he would happily allow.

He combed his fingers through her hair until his hands cradled her head and held her close as he deepened the kiss: firm, authoritative but not forceful.

She allowed it for a moment - enjoyed the dance of their tongues too much to pull away too soon - but after several seconds she reached for his wrists and removed his hands from her hair. Slowly, she stepped backward and led him further into the living room, only breaking away from his kiss once she felt the press of the coffee table against the back of her leg.

"Have you learned nothing?" she asked him with a wicked smile.

Before he could answer she stepped to his side and gently pushed him. He flopped down into the cushions of the couch, looked up at her with an expression that was equal parts shocked and aroused.

"You're in charge," he said mindlessly, distracted by her slow prowl toward him. She lowered herself, his hands finding their place on her hips as she straddled his lap. "My little control freak," he whispered in her ear before kissing her neck.

Kate moaned. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Rick shook his head. "Not bad." He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Another to her collarbone. "You could compromise occasionally, though."

Kate chuckled. "I don't compromise. However-" Her hand roamed down his chest and abs, in between their bodies to ghost over his growing arousal. "I do think I compensate fairly."

His response was nothing more than an unintelligible grunt as she slanted her mouth over his. But she pulled away as quickly as she had crashed down onto him.

"One more thing," she said.

Rick hummed: an acknowledgement that she had has attention despite his eyes being glued to the rise and fall of her chest as she took each heavy breath. She curled her finger under his chin, forced his focus to her eyes and smiled.

"Don't ever think you're too much," she whispered.

Chapter Text

Discomfort woke him: a slight stiffness in his neck that could most likely be explained by the fact that he had fallen asleep on his stomach, his face burrowed into a pile a pillows that was entirely too high for a comfortable night's sleep. But he had to been too drained, too exhausted to even consider moving. And now - what he assumed was many hours later - he was regretting that decision.

The hot, humid July air that seemed to cling to the exposed skin of his naked body was as heavy and unwelcome as the blanket draped over his lower half. He groaned, cursed himself for forgetting to change the timer on his air conditioner: he wasn't supposed to be home today and - in the name of doing his part for the environment - he had set the timer to shut off at 6am. Despite his home being all shut up and well-insulated, the large windows (that were a blessing in regard to the natural light they let into the loft) seemed to absorb the heat directly from the sun: any lingering chill from his air conditioner would have would have disappeared long ago.

He slowly shifted onto his back and opened his eyes, blinked rapidly as the rays of morning sunshine assaulted him but he managed to adjust relatively quickly. As if on cue, Kate rolled closer; her body moulding to his side. The heat of her body was like fire against his but he couldn't bring himself to care. He reached across his body and smoothed his palm down her thigh before curving his hand around the back of her knee and bringing her leg over his.

"Mm, comfy?" Kate hummed against his neck.

There was something about the low register of her sleepy, oh-so-relaxed tone that he just loved so much.

"Mmhmm," he confirmed as his hand drifted back up her thigh and over her waist. "You?"

She nodded slightly and Rick looked down, noted her still-closed eyes and peacefully expressionless face. He tilted his head, gently pressed a loving peck to the top of her head. The sleepy, half-smile on her face didn't go unnoticed as she nuzzled even further into Rick's embrace. As much as he wanted to move - to stretch, to eat something, to turn on the air - he'd let her sleep.

He would happily stay here - hot and hungry and sore - for an eternity, with not a single complaint, so long as she was in his arms.

He closed his eyes and attempted to will himself into comfort. His hand dropped to her side to rest against the ladder of her ribcage and a sharp but barely audible intake of air escaped from Kate. Rick's eyes shot open as he reactively pulled away from her, shifting the bed covers just enough to see the angry so-blue-it's-almost-black bruising on her torso.

"I'm so sorry!"

His whisper was loud, voice thick with concern. He had hurt her... The only thought in his mind that was clear enough for him to understand. He had hurt her...

But Kate chuckled sheepishly, still fighting to stay asleep: it was clear she had no intentions to leave his bed anytime soon.

"M'fine, Rick," she mumbled.

"Are you sure it isn't broken?" he asked, for the third time since the incident.

This damn rib just seemed to keep causing her grief, not that she would ever admit to that.

"Been checked twice," she reminded him. "Not broken. Just sore."

"Are you sure though?"

Kate opened her eyes just long enough to shoot Rick a half-hearted glare before she grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm back over her body. When he finally relented and allowed himself to relax beside her, she closed her eyes and placed her head down on his chest.

"I probably should have taken things a little... slower last night," she admitted quietly after a few seconds of silence. "But I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her body and held her close. But he didn't go back to sleep; he couldn't. She was too good at hiding her pain and he couldn't help but wonder how many times during the night had he accidentally touched a sensitive spot - God knows she was covered in the at the moment - and missed the tiny, carefully masked signs that she was in pain.

He wasn't ignoring that tiny little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him of Esposito's warning. In fact, he was doing his very best not to coddle her but he had always been the caregiver type, even as a child. He saw someone in need of help and he eagerly provided whatever it was they needed. This - the concern, the hovering, the constant watchful eye - was his version of not coddling. He was terrified that he was on the verge of driving her insane but he felt like he was fighting a losing battle every time he told himself to pull back, to care less. It just wasn't in his nature.

Especially when it came to Kate.

He cared about her in a way that he hadn't cared about anyone in a long time. She was important to him. How important? He wasn't quite sure but he knew that he would do anything for her. Hell, he'd give her the world if she asked for it; lasso the moon and the stars if it brought her joy to have them at her disposal. With the exception of his daughter - and his mother... on a good day - he would happily turn his back to the rest of the world and spend the rest of eternity in this little bubble of them.

And suddenly, it dawned on him: he knew exactly what this was; knew exactly how important she was to him.

He was in love.

Head over heels.

Hopelessly and patheticly smitten.

The realisation - or, perhaps it was more just an overdue admission rather than realisation - had his heart swelling in his chest, a smile creeping onto his face. It had been a long time but it felt good, to be in love. But he knew that woman sleeping soundly in his arms was still healing, that she was probably far from being ready to hear him speak the words that had filled him with such euphoria. So he would keep it to himself - his worst kept secret - until they were both ready.

For close to twenty minutes he traced patterns with his fingertips over her lower back and listened to each slow, steady breath she took until she began to rouse once more.

The soft, warm puffs of breath he felt on his skin were replaced by the gentle press of her lips; a kiss he returned with one of his own to the top of her head.

"You think too loud," she mumbled, then kissed along his shoulder until she reached his neck. "What's on your mind?"

He chose to answer her question with actions rather than words; placed a gentle hand on the side of her face and kissed her with all the fervour of a man in love. And she allowed it; allowed herself to get swept away, if only for a moment.

Kate placed her hand on Rick's chest and pushed gently, breaking away from their kiss just enough to tease him.

"Nuh-uh," she sung playfully. "I asked you a question."

His eyes dropped to her smile and he traced his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip. He loved the way she instinctively chased his touch, subconsciously moved to prolong the connection even when he began to pull away.

"Just you," he answered truthfully: an answered that apparently satisfied her curiosity.

She lurched forward, reclaimed his lips and kissed him with heated passion.

"I ordered breakfast," Rick announced from the kitchen as Kate walked out of the bedroom, towel drying her hair. "Well, brunch at this point, I guess. Lunch by the time it actually gets here," he corrected with a thoughtful frown. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," she said with a bright smile. "I'm starving."

She sat at one of the counter stools and Rick rounded the island counter, mug of fresh coffee in hand. He placed it down in front of her and kissed her temple.

"Should be here soon," he informed her, smoothing his hand up and down her back. "I'm gonna have a quick shower. Make yourself at home: you know where the TV is, help yourself to any books, I'll even let ya snoop through my stuff if you want!"

Kate rolled her eyes and laughed at what she assumed was a joke, and Rick walked away with a smile.

As tempting as it would have been to go snooping - she did, after all, have his permission - she resisted the urges and opted to peruse his book collection instead. She hung the towel she was using to dry her hair over the back of the stool, picked up her mug of coffee and plodded toward his office. She took her time browsing the titles before her: everything from James Patterson and Agatha Christie, to Tolstoy and Chekov, to Jane Austen and Nicholas Sparks. It was obvious that his love and appreciation for words wasn't restricted to merely one or two genres. Poetry, literature, love stories and mysteries alike; he loved it all.

She smiled when she saw Alex Conrad's latest novel had joined the collection. She still felt a swell of pride for how Rick had handled everything that night and how, despite the ever-present threat of being replaced that loomed, he hadn't caved into playing the games many had expected him to. Given the opportunity to discredit Conrad's work, he praised the author instead. He mingled with fans, socialised with his peers and networked with the big names of the biz, all without stepping foot into Conrad's spotlight. That pride - and a certain sense of loyalty too, she supposed - was exactly why her copy of the novel had remained untouched since that night. She would read it eventually but, for now, she had plenty of Rick's novels to keep her busy.

She moved back to the collection of poetry books she had spied in her initial scan of the shelves: Oscar Wilde, Maya Angelou and Edgar Allan Poe, just to name a few. She reached for thick, leather-bound book - The complete works of Emily Dickinson - and took it with her as she walked back to the living room. She made herself comfortable, curled into the corner of the lounge with her feet tucked up underneath her, and began to read.

. . . .

Rick dressed in jeans and a lightweight cotton shirt before rejoining Kate in the living room. He slowed the pace of his stride as she came into view: curled up comfortably, still-steaming mug in her hand, deeply engrossed in a book he instantly recognised. She looked perfectly at home in his space; it was a sight he wanted to burn to memory. He leant against the door frame, allowing himself just a moment or two to watch her as she read peacefully.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you it was rude to stare?" she asked before looking up at him with a playful smile.

Rick pushed off the door frame, slowly walked toward her. "No. But she did always stress the importance of appreciating the beauty of a moment." He sunk down onto the couch beside her. "And this - you, so captivated by Miss Dickinson's words - is a beautiful moment."

"Smooth-talker," she grumbled.

But the smile on her face was yet to fade away.

"I try." Rick tucked Kate's hair behind her ear. "You a Dickinson fan?" he asked curiously.

"Would you be disappointed if I said I wasn't all that familiar with her work?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Not at all."

"Good." She looked back down at the book balancing on her lap. "I actually was looking for something in particular, but I can't find it in here. I did an analysis piece in high school and I kind of just wanted to read that poem again."

"Do you remember what it was called?" Rick asked, taking the book from her lap.

"Because I could not stop for Death," she told him as she shifted to be able to read over his shoulder.

"Ah; he kindly stopped for me," he recited.

Kate tore her eyes away from the pages before them to look at Rick, to watch him as he continued.

"The carriage held but just ourselves-"

"And immortality," she finished with a smile.

Rick looked - stared - bewildered for just one moment before gathering himself. "You were an overachiever in school, weren't you?"

Kate's jaw dropped in feigned offence at the accusation. "Not at all. In fact, my dad helped me with most of the assignment. The night before it was due," she added for emphasis.

"Right," he said, not buying her defence. "So, you just happened to remember it fifteen or so years later?" He raised his brows, challenging her.

"The first four lines of it, yeah. You seem to be quite the aficionado, though."

"My mother, actually." He began flipping through the pages until he found what he was searching for. "When she was supposed to be teaching me not to stare-" He smiled and gave her a sideward glance. "she was actually teaching me life lessons through poetry."

He passed the book back to Kate and allowed her a moment's silence to read the passage in front of her.

Tell all the truth but tell it slant —

Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth's superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind —

"Your mother values honesty," Kate stated more-so to herself than to Rick. Then she smiled. "That bodes well for me."

There was a knock at the door, effectively ending whatever conversation could have arose from this moment. But as Rick rose from the couch and walked toward his front door, he turned to look at Kate over his shoulder and smiled.

"I told you: I don't lie to people I care about."

"And what about the ones you don't care about?"

"That is something you will never have to worry about."

Rick opened the door and greeted whoever was on the other side, took the paper bag from them and then handed them a small wad of cash.

"Thank you," he said before closing the door. He carried the food over to the living room and dropped the bag to the coffee table, pulling the styrofoam containers out one-by-one. "Okay, there's scrambled eggs and avocado toast; a bacon and spinach omelette; pancakes or French toast."

Kate chuckled. "Are you expecting more guests?" she asked as she stared, bug-eyed, at the stack of meals.

Rick sat beside her. "I may have gone a little overboard," he admitted. "But, at least we have options. How about I get plates and we can try a little of everything?"

"I can get them," Kate offered.

She pulled herself from her corner of the couch before Rick had a chance to insist she not lift a finger. While she was enjoying the fact that he seemed to like doing things for her - more than she ever thought she would; being an strong, independent woman and all - she had her limits. There was only so much lazing around and being waited on that she could indulge in before she began to itch for something to do.

She returned to the couch with two plates, cutlery and some paper napkins. Rick had opened each container; their feast was on full display.

"Wow, this looks so good," she thought aloud as she passed Rick a plate.

"It's from a little cafe near Chelsea Park. They have the best pancakes." He stabbed his fork at one of the golden brown pancakes on the table and deposited it on Kate's plate. "Trust me: they're heaven-sent."

"I believe you," she said with a slight giggle. "However, I'm a bit of a pancake snob. My dad has a secret recipe that no one can compete with."

"I would never speak ill of your father or his pancakes," Rick assured her. "But once you try these, his pancakes will taste like cardboard."

Kate's jaw dropped but she was highly amused by Rick's passion. She grabbed her fork, used the side of it to cut off a bite-sized portion of the pancake to taste for curiosity had taken over: what exactly was it about these that he loved so much.

She had to admit: they were good. Light and fluffy, the essence of vanilla just strong enough to be tasted but not so strong it was overpowering. And there was a hint of something else, something she couldn't quite pinpoint.

But pride wasn't taking a back seat today. So, she shrugged. "Eh."

"Eh?" he repeated, mimicking her shrug. "Just 'eh'?"

"They're nice," she admitted. "But they don't even come close to my dads."

Rick nodded. "Nostalgia is a powerful thing," he said, understanding.

"Nostalgia?"

"Yes." Rick cut off his own bite of Kate's pancake and she playfully swatted at his bicep. "Until I've tried your father's pancakes for myself, I just have to assume you're wrong."

Kate rolled her eyes. "If that's your way of trying to score yourself an invite to breakfast with my dad, it's not going to work."

Rick just smiled and shook his head as he served up small portions of food onto his plate, passing each container to Kate when he was done. They settled into silence as they ate, picking at their plates to sample the different foods: sweet and savoury, hot and cold.

"Looks like there'll be plenty of leftovers for breakfast tomorrow," Rick stated as he placed his empty plate on the coffee table beside the half-filled containers. "Maybe the next day, too, if you're not sick of it by then."

Kate placed her plate atop of Rick's then leant back into the cushions of the couch and looked at him with a smile. "Exactly how long do you plan on having me stay here?"

"You make it sound as though I am holding you here against your will," he complained and she placed her hand over his: a silent assurance that she wanted to be there with him. "Alexis will be home on Wednesday; you're welcome to stay until then if you'd like."

Four nights.

That seemed doable.

Four nights alone with Rick.

She'd be lying if she said that didn't have her stomach churning; equal parts excited and terrified. They were only one night down and already feeling very domestic.

"You don't have to, obviously," Rick assured her and she realised her silence must have spoke volumes. "I just wanted you to know that you're welcome here while Alexis is away. Not that you're not welcome while she's home, I just-"

"You try to keep some distance with Alexis and your... friends," she finished his sentence, recalling the conversation they'd had weeks earlier.

He protected his daughter, no matter what; didn't want her to build a relationship with people who weren't going to stick it out. Kate understood. She respected that.

"I have no intention of crossing the boundaries you set in regard to your daughter, Rick. She's a sweet girl and I look forward to getting to know her better one day. But not until you decide it's time."

Rick smiled, suddenly overwhelmed by how well the accidental stumble into deeper conversation had worked out for him. Kate had spoken - in a sense - of a future that included not only him but his daughter, too. The women he had dated in the past had a tendency to see his daughter as one of two things: a burden, something they had to tolerate in order to be with him; or a chance to play doting (read: overbearing) step-mother, something of which Alexis did not need.

Kate, however, had managed to find that middle ground that Rick thought he might actually be comfortable with. She seemed genuine in her desire to get to know his daughter, in her understanding that Alexis was an extension of himself and therefore was (and always will be) a part of dating him. But she also seemed to understand that this was something that had to be done on his timetable, not hers. Not that he thought there would be much delay: the few short interactions they'd had had been pleasant enough and Alexis was already bombarding him with questions about Kate, both cautious and excited for her father's newfound friendship (she wasn't actually buying that for a second). And he knew - without a single doubt - that he was in this for the long run.

As soon as Kate was ready to dive into this thing without reservation, he was sure she would be in it for the long run too. He could feel it in his bones; he'd never felt so certain.

But if he kept thinking this way, he was sure his mouth would eventually run off with his thoughts and he'd say something to scare her off.

"Was there anything you needed to get done over the next few days?" he asked in attempt to distract himself. "Surely, now that you're feeling a little better, you had something planned for your time off work."

"Uh, there was one thing I needed to get done," she said. "But there's no rush, I can do it whenever."

"What is it? Anything I can help with?"

Kate smiled. "Well, seeing as I am moving into my own place soon I figured I should probably buy some furniture."

"Furniture shopping?" Rick pointed to himself. "I love furniture shopping."

"Of course you do," Kate laughed.

"So- what do you need?" Rick pulled out his phone to make a list.

"Everything."

He looked up from his screen, looked at Kate with a blank expression. "What do you mean everything? Don't you have stuff at your old place?"

Kate shook her head slowly. "Everywhere I've ever lived has already been furnished. When Adam and I got our place together he already had most of what we needed. There were a few things we bought together but, honestly, I think I just want a fresh start." She looked down at her hands in her lap and began to toy with each long digit, picking at her fingernails or twisting an imaginary ring. "He got rid of the one thing I actually wanted, so..."

"Wait, what do you mean he got rid of something. Can you get it - whatever it is - back?"

"An artwork." She looked up at Rick and shook her head. "He sold it. Or maybe he destroyed it. Honestly, I don't really know where we landed on that one: I like to think he didn't actually destroy something he knew I loved so much, just out of spite. But, at this point, I don't think I'd be surprised if he did."

"Is that what had you so upset the other day?" Rick asked.

"It's stupid."

"I don't think it's stupid at all." His voice was low and gentle; so nurturing but filled with emotion. He was hurting for her, with her. "Was it a custom piece? Can we get another one?"

We.

Kate smiled. "It doesn't matter; what's done is done. I just want to move on."

"Okay then." Rick stood then held his hand out for Kate. "Let's go shopping."

She smiled and placed her palm over his, allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Let's go shopping."

The day had been a success.

After a little research, Rick had found an overstock warehouse just outside of the city. Furniture, homewares, appliances, garden essentials: you name it, this place had it! They managed to get almost everything that Kate needed - the essentials, anyway - in one stop.

The lady who had assisted them - Sara, her badge said - was an obvious fan of Rick's. She had almost tripped over her own feet in her rush to greet them, and spent half her time staring at him in disbelief. Starstruck, Kate would say. Unashamedly so.

But, that worked in Kate's favour. Sara had been happy to go above and beyond for Rick, to fulfil his every need. Three and a half hours - and a possibly unhealthy dose of flattery from the saleswoamn - later, Kate had picked out a bedroom suite, a dining set with complementary counter stools, a nice (and maybe slightly over-indulgent) 5 seater L-shaped lounge, armchairs, a rug, bookshelves; the list goes on! She was well on her way to having her home perfectly suited to her tastes and she couldn't have been happier about it. And, thanks to Sara's big old crush on Rick, she even got the delivery fee waived.

As the hours passed, however, Rick couldn't help but notice that Kate was slowly beginning to deflate. She was exhausted, not that she would ever admit it. But the walk back to Rick's car was slow. Not a leisurely stroll kind of slow, an I physically can't but I'm too stubborn to stop kind of slow. And the way she wrapped her arm around her torso - as if holding her rib cage in place - was anything but subtle.

Rick wrapped his arm around Kate's back, placed his hand over where hers rested on her ribs.

She looked up at him and forced a smile. "I'm okay."

"I know," he replied before pressing his lips to her temple. "But I'm ready to call it. Let's go home."

Kate leant into his side and he led her toward the passenger-side of his car.

They arrived back at Rick's place after a little over an hour's drive.

Between the activities of their night together, the position she had spent too long curled up in on the couch this morning, the hours of wandering through what had to be the State's largest warehouse and the most uncomfortable car-ride home she was feeling more than a little worse for wear.

"I know you weren't overly happy with the decision," Rick began as they entered his home. "But I think the forced medical leave may have been called for."

She turned to face him, daggers shooting from narrowed eyes. But they seemed to have little effect on Rick.

"How are you feeling, Kate?" he asked sarcastically. But he didn't let her answer. "Don't you dare say you're fine; you can barely stand up straight right now."

Kate straightened her posture; she hadn't even realised she had been so slouched in her stance. "I'm perfectly capable of sitting at a desk," she argued.

"To be fair, you'd probably feel just as stiff and sore from the lack of movement being stuck behind a desk," Rick thought aloud. "You can't really win this one."

Kate sighed heavily. "I know."

Rick looked sympathetic: he didn't know what to say, how to help. All he could do was show that he cared.

"Are you still on pain medication?"

Kate shook her head. "Trying not to be," she admitted. "But I'll probably take some tonight so I get a decent sleep."

Rick nodded slowly, mulling over his thoughts.

"Wait here," he said eventually. He pointed to the Dickinson book, still on the coffee table from earlier in the day. "Find your poem," he instructed before turning to walk away.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

He disappeared behind the wall of his bedroom, but Kate heard him call out: "It's a surprise."

She smiled to herself, gently lowered herself back into the corner of the couch that she had claimed as her own and picked up the book.

Chapter Text

When Alexis had told him she needed 150 flameless candles for a drama assignment he had laughed at the preposterousness of such a request. Right now, however, he was quietly thankful for his daughter's don't do things by halves attitude, for her candles had come in awfully handy over the past 24 hours.

He set up the flickering LED candles - one in each corner of his bathroom, three on a small plant stand by his tub - and turned off the light.

"Perfect," he uttered to himself.

He moved to the vanity, pulled a small wicker basket from the very back of the cupboard and browsed the selection of essential oil bottles it held until he found the ones he needed: tea tree and lavender. He added the oils - just a few drops of each - into the stream of water running from the faucet and watched as each of the oil beads disappeared into the water.

Satisfied that everything was under control, he walked back to the living room.

"Find your poem yet?" he asked, beckoning Kate's attention.

She looked up at him, a proud smile on her face. "I did."

He took the book from her hands when she offered it and read over the somewhat familiar words. He didn't find it unusual for her to resonate with a poem such as this one - given her history, given her chosen career, given humanity's general curiosity with what comes next - but the timing of her subconscious seeking out these words from her teenage years, so soon after a grim reminder of her own mortality, was duly noted.

"Where'd you disappear to?" she asked after a few seconds of silence.

Rick shifted the book from his line of view so that he could see her face unobstructed. "Come with me," he said, then closed the book and placed it down on the coffee table.

He reached for her hand and slowly helped her to her feet before he led her into his bathroom. They walked, hand-in-hand, until he stopped just shy of the bath tub. Kate stepped closer, so her body pressed against his arm, and she leant her head on his shoulder.

"If you keep this up I might never want to leave," she said softly.

Rick huffed out a soft laugh. "Maybe that's the plan," he said as he turned to face her.

He curled his index finger under her chin and tilted her head, then leaned in and gave her a tender, loving kiss. He pulled away, tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear.

"The water should hopefully help ease the pain a little," he said. "Take your time. Relax. Call out if you need anything."

"You're not gonna stay?"

"And watch you bathe?" he asked and Kate laughed.

She shook her head. "Join me," she clarified. "There's plenty of room for two."

She took a small step backward and began to slowly unbutton her blouse, watching as Rick's eyes drifted and followed the path of her hand. When the last button popped free of it's restraint his eyes returned to hers, darkened by his desire, and she knew she had him.

She looked up at him through fluttering lashes. "Please?"

Rick nodded and Kate smiled victoriously.

"That's not always gonna work on me," he warned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she lied; her voice honey-sweet.

He slid his fingers across the back of her neck, brushing aside the dampened strands of hair that had slipped from her bun and stuck to her slick skin. Then he leant forward and pressed his lips to her. The soft moan that came from her in response sent sparks of electricity surging through his entire body, encouraged him to keep going. He ghosted his lips across her skin - up the back of her neck, against the shell of her ear, down to her shoulder - determined to bring goosebumps to every inch of her flesh.

"I've been meaning to ask," he muttered against her shoulder before pressing another kiss to her body. "Is Lanie okay?"

"Seriously?" Kate sat upright, twisted her torso to look over her shoulder at Rick. "You have me naked and in your arms, kissing me... and you're thinking about my best friend?"

"What? I, uh- no! I was just-"

The corners of Kate's mouth twitched as she watched Rick stutter and stumble over his words, until she couldn't hold back any longer. Her smile was bright as her playful laughter echoed against the bathroom's tiled walls. "I'm just messing with you," she confessed before returning to her position, leaning against the wall of his chest.

Rick's arms wrapped around her as he took a relieved breath.

"She's okay," Kate said with a slight shrug. "She's just worried about Javi."

"Is he okay?"

Rick didn't know the details of what had happened that day; but he knew enough. Enough to know that he owed Esposito more gratitude than he could ever put into words. Enough to know that, given the slightest change of circumstances, Kate might not have been here with him right now. Ryan, too.

Two inches higher and you'd be crying into that Pad Thai, Bro.

They had joked about it as if it were nothing but Rick understood that that was just how they dealt with these things. He had watched as Jenny rolled her eyes and shook her head, laughing alongside her husband-to-be; but he also saw the reassuring squeeze of his thigh under the table, her quick study of his ocean blue eyes to ensure he wasn't drowning in the what ifs of it all and the nearly imperceivable nod of his head in response, assuring her that he would be okay.

What he hadn't noticed was, well, anything different about Esposito. He was his usual playful, sarcastic self; or so Rick had thought. Perhaps he was wrong. Although the group had always been so welcoming to him, he was under no illusion that he was on the inside. He had to earn his spot there - and he would, one day - but he knew that day hadn't come yet.

"He's, uh- he's dealing with things," Kate said as she lifted their joined hands, pressed his knuckles to her lips.

"He seemed alright at dinner."

"Because you were there. He's got it in his head that he can't show weakness in front of an outsider," she explained. She turned her head to look at Rick. "Don't take that personally."

"I won't," he assured her.

He leant his forehead against the side of her head, breathed in the scent of her hair as she spoke again.

"It's a cop thing, I guess. Even Lanie had to fight to be seen as one of us. He still struggles to let her in and I'm pretty sure she's only gotten this close because I spent so long convincing him she could handle it."

Rick was silent for a moment, pondering his words before he spoke them. "Can she? Handle it, I mean. You seemed worried."

"She can handle me," Kate said earnestly. "I'm not exactly the most straight-forward person when it comes to my emotions-" She looked at Castle through the corner of her eye, expecting a sarcastic remark. He smiled slightly, but didn't tease, so she continued. "But she knows how to get me to open up. She thinks she can do that with him, too. But he's different: he won't talk to her about this."

"At all?"

She shook her head. "He knows she's worried; that's why he's still staying at her place. He thinks that physically being there will ease her concerns but he's so mentally checked out right now-" She stopped and sighed heavily. "If anything he's just making it worse. I just don't know what to do. A part of me wants to tell Lanie to back off a little, let him handle this his way."

"I don't see that going down well," Rick commented.

"Another part of me wants to grab Espo and shake some sense into him. Someone like Lanie doesn't come along every day and if he keeps her at an arms length forever-" She shook her head.

"He'll lose her," he finished in a quiet mumble, saddened by the thought.

"He wouldn't be the first to push someone away by trying too hard to shelter them from the downsides of the job," she mused aloud.

"Hell of a downside," Rick said as he combed his fingers through her hair, tucking a few errant strands behind her ear. "Have you ever-"

He stopped himself once he realised the question swirling in his mind had begun to slip from his lips, but it was too late. Kate stiffened and he froze.

"Killed someone?" she said bluntly, finishing the question he couldn't.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. "I didn't- you don't have to- I'm sorry." He wrapped his arms around her body and held her against him, pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "I wasn't thinking," he whispered against her skin. "I'm so sorry."

"I mean, everyone wonders, right?"

She placed her hands on the sides of the tub and leveraged herself out of his arms, sliding forward.

"Kate-" He leant forward, instantly missing the closeness.

Water sloshed over the sides, splashed onto the tiled floor as she turned around to face Rick.

"When you put on the badge you know that the day might come," she said, defending herself against an accusation he hadn't made. "But that doesn't make it easy."

"I know that," he assured her. "I'm sorry if I insinuated that I thought it did."

Kate closed her eyes and scrubbed a hand over her face as she let out a heavy sigh. She shook her head and brought herself closer to Rick. "You didn't."

Rick reached for her, pulled her into his embrace and she shifted again to make herself comfortable as she rested her head against his shoulder, her forehead pressed to his jaw.

"Sorry," she said softly. "It's been... a long week."

He sighed, kissed her forehead. "I know."

Minutes passed in silence before either one of them spoke again.

"I don't think I could do it," he admitted quietly. "What you do," he added for clarity.

Kate huffed, an amused laugh. "That's funny; I actually think you'd be pretty good at it."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You have the tenacity for it. And a curious mind: the need to solve the puzzle, to get the answers."

Rick smiled to himself, taking her words as the compliment he hoped she meant them as.

"And you're observant," she added. "That's important."

"Good enough to be your partner?" he asked, playfulness in his tone.

She looked up at him with a smile. "I might have to teach you a thing or two."

"I'm a very good student," he assured her with a smirk.

"That you are."

They were onto their second movie of the evening. Almost finished their second movie of the evening, actually. But he couldn't recall anything that had happened in the last half an hour... at least.

He felt like a teenage boy: way too distracted by the pretty girl beside him to be able to focus on anything else. As soon as they had polished off the pizza they'd ordered for dinner, Kate had tucked herself under his arm and made herself very comfortable curled up against his side.

Her enticingly scant, forest-green silk pyjama shorts had captured his attention - or, more accurately, the impossibly soft skin of her exposed thighs had - offering such a pleasant distraction. His hand (that had started so innocently drawing circles on the bared skin of her shoulder) slowly travelled down her back, over the thin strip of skin between her shorts and matching camisole until it finally came to rest on her thigh. He slowly, delicately grazed his fingernails across her skin; down toward her knee and then back up toward her hip, again and again, watching with an amused smile as she shuddered and goosebumps erupted across her entire body.

"That tickles." She giggled as she turned and hid her face in his chest.

She swatted his hand away, looked up at his face and gave him a stern look.

She knew it would only encourage his antics, though.

"My apologies," he said, bringing his hand to rest on her hip.

They went back to watching the TV screen but only a few minutes passed before his hands began to wander again; underneath the silken material of her camisole and across her stomach.

He tried to focus on the movie - he really did - but his hands had a mind of their own as they inched lower, toyed with the waistband of her shorts.

Kate smiled, arched her brow. "Can I help you with something, Rick?"

Rick hummed as he leant forward, nibbled at her ear. "Well, seeing as you offered-"

"Watch the movie," she warned.

But there was very little authority in her voice. In fact, she sounded almost as distracted as he was.

"I am," he replied; hands still roaming.

"It's almost finished: you're going to miss the best part."

He mumbled something incoherent, something that sounded like a dismissive seen it before, as he kissed her neck.

She tried to resist but he so quickly found that sensitive spot behind her ear and her eyes fluttered shut, a moan escaping from her lips without her permission. And with that, she gave up the fight. She rolled to her back, curled her arm around his neck and pulled him down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Rick was careful as he slipped his hand under her camisole, smoothed his palm over her abdomen on his journey upward. Kate's fingers combed through his hair, fingernails raking gentle over his scalp as he caressed her soft skin. When he reached his intended destination, cupped and massaged her breast, she curled her fingers in his hair and somehow pulled him even closer.

So caught up in all the little sounds of them - each breath, each sigh and moan - Kate almost missed the faint sounds of rattling keys on the other side of the front door.

Almost.

She pulled back from Rick's kiss, her eyes fixed to the floor as she listened intently for the sound she wasn't quite sure she had heard. Keys rattled again, then they both heard the unmistakeable sound of the door opening: the click of the lock mechanism, the creak of the hinges as the door began to move.

Rick pulled his hand from Kate's shirt and she sat upright, placing some much needed distance between them. Her movements, however, were abrupt and even after her soak in the tub, her abs ached as she moved. She didn't have time to dwell, though.

Alexis barrelled through the door, head hung low as if to hide away from the world around her, slamming it shut behind her.

"Alexis?" Ricked asked, his voice nearly a whole octave higher than usual.

Kate looked at him, confused. Alexis wasn't supposed to be home for another three days. Judging by Rick's expression, she wasn't the only one confused. She turned her attention back to the girl, noticing (for the first time) her red-rimmed and teary eyes.

Rick placed his hands on Kate's forearms, holding her steady as he shifted out from behind her.

"Where is she?" he asked his daughter as he rose to stand.

His voice was low again; so angry it sent a chill down Kate's spine. She never, ever wanted to be on the receiving end of that tone.

"It's fine," the girl insisted as she made her way toward the stairs. But her voice betrayed her with it's watery rasp. The girl had been crying, that was undeniable. "Don't make a big deal out of nothing."

"Nothing?" he repeated incredulously. "This isn't nothing."

Alexis stopped her ascent on the second step, turned to face her father. "I'm fine, Dad. I have to study anyway. I'll be upstairs, quiet as a mouse." Her eyes darted - for only a microsecond - to Kate, then back to her father. "I won't interrupt your date or whatever."

"Alexis-" Rick's voice was firm, warning. "Where is she?" he repeated.

And the girl broke.

"We ran into Mr. Pettman," she confessed. Rick sighed and Kate realised that she was the only one who didn't instantly understand what that meant. "He was on his way to some mixer, and casually mentioned that she was welcome to join."

"She kinda already had a prior commitment," Rick snarked.

"I said it was fine," the girl defended; but her defence lacked conviction.

"She shouldn't have even entertained the idea," he shot back.

Alexis sighed. "She's been trying to get a meeting with him for years-"

"I don't care."

"Dad, please."

Rick took a breath, rubbed a hand over his brow as he tried to simmer his anger for his daughter's sake.

After a few seconds, he moved toward his daughter. "You sure you're okay?"

The girl nodded. "I'm fine," she said again.

Kate watched Rick as he watched his daughter. She could see the array of emotions that crossed his face with each second that passed: the concern, the anger, the disappointment. When she turned her attention to Alexis, she could recognise many of the same tells in the girl's own expression. Concern, anger, disappointment... and a deep, heavy sadness.

Rick moved to the bottom of the staircase and reached for Alexis' hand. She took it, walked down the two steps she had managed to ascend before he had stopped her, and threw her arms around her father's neck as he hugged her tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know." The girl pulled back and smiled at Rick. "You can go back to your movie," she told him. "I promise I'm okay."

"Do you want to join us?"

The invitation slipped from her lips before she could really even think it over. And when Rick and Alexis both looked at her with surprised looks on their faces, she thought that perhaps she had overstepped. Her stomach flipped as she waited for someone to say something... anything.

But then Rick smiled.

"I don't want to interrupt-"

The girl's insistence was cut off by her father.

"You're not," he assured her.

"This movie is almost done-" Kate grabbed the remote and paused the still-playing movie. "But I get to pick the next one and I've been trying to convince your dad to watch Legally Blonde. Maybe you'd have more luck than I seem to be."

Alexis looked at Rick with a frown and then turned her attention back to Kate. "Trying to convince him?" she asked.

"She tried to bribe me," Rick explained. "With chocolate and popcorn," he rushed to add once he realised the implications of his explanation.

Implications he was certain he daughter would never have even considered - not in his perfect world, anyway - but he wanted to clarify, just to be safe.

"You didn't have to bribe him," Alexis told Kate with a smile. "It's one of his favourites."

Kate's jaw dropped and she turned her attention to Rick. In her mind she replayed their bickering over which movies to watch and, if she was remembering correctly - which she was - he had scoffed at her suggestion and declared it too much of a chick flick, even for him.

"Traitor," he accused of his daughter.

But she looked mighty proud of herself.

"Love ya, Dad."

"Go get in your pyjamas then come join us," he instructed.

Alexis looked at Kate. "You're sure?"

Kate nodded and the girl bounded up the stairs in significantly better spirits than she had been just moments ago.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry," Kate said softly as Rick made his way back to the couch. "Do you want me to leave?"

"What?" He lowered himself back into his corner of the couch and wrapped his hand around her bicep, pulling her into his arms. "Why would I want you to leave?"

She curled up against his side, rested her head on his shoulder. "We literally just had a conversation today about me respecting your boundaries with her and-" She pushed herself upright: this was a conversation she wanted to have while looking him in the eye. "I didn't mean to push or anything, I just-"

"No," he cut her off. "I'm glad you asked her to join us."

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her entire body a very gentle squeeze. She lowered her head again, snuggled against his side.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

Rick sighed and shook his head. No, he wasn't okay. But he didn't know what he could do. "She just wants to spend time with her mum."

"It's a good thing she has such a wonderful father who showers her in all the love and support a girl could ever need."

She had hoped her words would bring a smile to his face. They didn't.

"Doesn't feel like enough."

Kate remained silent for a moment. She knew first hand that no amount of fatherly love could ever replace quality mother-daughter time. But she also knew that it helped. And she knew that Rick, to some extent, knew that too. He knew what it was like to yearn for a relationship with an absent parent. While his situation was very different to his daughters - and Kate's was vastly different, too - they all knew that longing, knew how heavy that weight could be.

"Come on-" She gave his chest a gentle pat, then pulled herself from his arms and stood up. "Where's the popcorn?"

She held out her hand and Rick took it, rose to his feet and then led her to the kitchen.

She released his hand and moved to the pantry.

"Second shelf, to the right," he said when she opened the cupboard doors.

As she searched for the bag of kernels, Rick moved effortlessly around the kitchen pulling out all the essentials: a large pot, oil, butter and salt. He grabbed a handful of candy bars from his secret stash while he was at it.

They reconvened by the stove. As they worked together to prepare their late-night snack, Kate couldn't help but smile to herself. This domesticity felt so... natural. And, while she hadn't spent a great deal of time with teenagers and had no idea what to expect from Alexis joining them tonight, she wasn't an absolute wreck with nerves. Okay, maybe there were a few nerves but her mind wasn't screaming at her to run for the hills.

Alexis showing up may have been a slight hiccup in their weekend plans but it was also an opportunity, one that Kate was determined to seize. If she could survive the night - just one movie - she knew it would be another step (another large step) in the right direction. But if she wanted tonight to go well she needed to get Rick's mind off of his ex-wife and the hurt she had inflicted on their daughter. Rick's anger had settled, but it still radiated from him.

That was something that needed to be remedied.

Kate bumped her hip against his.

"We're gonna have fun," she assured him. "Alexis won't even think about anything else that happened tonight."

Rick smiled, grateful for the effort Kate was putting in to keeping spirits high. He wrapped his arm around her waist, leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"This isn't your problem, you know? I understand if you wanted to bail-"

"Hey!" she interrupted. She turned her body, closed her arms around his waist and smiled. "I'm not going to let Meredith ruin my movie night. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Thank you." She let go of him and turned back to the bench. She grabbed two candy bars from the pile by the stove. "Now, what's going to help draw all your deep, dark secrets out of Alexis?" she asked in jest, holding the two options up for him to see. "Milky Way or Kit-Kat?"

"Don't you dare!" He moved quickly to snatch the bars from her hands, but she pulled them away and they slipped from his fingers.

She poked her tongue out, celebrating too soon. He moved again, this time successfully pulling the candy from her grasp.

"Ha!" he exclaimed victoriously.

"That's okay," she declared. "I don't need chocolate."

"My secrets are safe with her," he taunted. "She'll never crack."

"She gave up your favourite movie pretty quickly," she teased.

Rick frowned, lost himself, just for a second, in thought. "I may have to pull out the Monkey-Bunkey stories," he pondered.

"Monkey-Bunkey?" Kate repeated, curious and confused.

"Dad!"

Rick turned toward the sound of his daughter's distraught voice. "I didn't say anything!" he insisted, desperate to plead his innocence. But then his look of surprise turned into an evil grin. "Yet."

"Okay," Kate whined to Rick. "I won't pry. Your secrets are safe and so are hers," she declared.

Alexis walked down the last few steps. "I appreciate that."

"My curiosity is piqued, though. What on Earth is a Monkey-Bunkey?" She whispered the question to Rick and he shook his head, grimacing.

"Roadkill," was all he uttered before the sound of popping kernels distracted them both.

Alexis knew that this would be awkward for her father. For as long as she could remember, he had kept very strict rules when it came to the women he dated. She never met anyone until he knew that things were serious (which, they rarely ever were). And, even then, the eased very slowly into their time spent together.

She had only met Gina early on because she and Rick had had a working relationship for so long, his publisher was already practically family. In fact, it wasn't until they had both sat her down and explicitly told her that they were engaged that Alexis had even known there had been any change between the pair. In hindsight, the nights that Gina stayed in the loft with them should have been a give away, but her father had been sure to keep any sort of intimacy behind closed doors. Sure, as Alexis got older he began to relax a little bit but not much. So, the fact that she had even met Kate at this point was entirely new to the both of them.

As far as Alexis knew, they weren't even officially together. But that wasn't a thought she wanted to linger on; what her father did in his own time was none of her business, she didn't want it to be her business. Sure, she knew all about his reputation - the kids at school just loved to keep her updated on the many articles written about the apparent playboy author - but so long as she didn't see the alleged endless list of lovers, she could stay blissfully ignorant.

Coming home to find the young, attractive woman he had been spending an awful lot of time with lately on the couch in a kinda skimpy - albeit very cute - pyjama set did kinda ruin that blissful ignorance thing she had going on, though.

She considered not joining them. On the one hand, this was very obviously a date, right? Movies, cuddles on the couch, and she had noticed the candles had been pulled out of storage: no one could convince her that this wasn't meant to be a date. And she had interrupted it. Ruined it. She could easily call a friend and ask to sleep over. Maybe she should have just done that in the first place...

On the other hand, however, it had been incredibly sweet of Kate to ask her to join them. And while, of course she knew it was an obligatory invitation, she would never want Kate to think that she didn't want to get to know her a little better. And that's where this got a little more... complicated.

She didn't know Kate, didn't know how the woman would react to whatever decision she made right now.

If she left, would Kate be offended?

If she stayed, would Kate be annoyed?

The merging of these two parts of her father's life was an important event. She understood - too well - the ramifications of this not going well. Not that she had ever had a problem with anyone her father had ever introduced her to, but the what if was always in the back of her mind. She never wanted to be a point of contention within her father's relationships, never wanted to be the cause of things going south.

In the end, Alexis decided on the option that made her feel better. Selfishly, she just wanted her dad.

She slipped into her pyjamas - a comfy pair of cotton pants and an old t-shirt of a band she went to see a few years ago - and headed back downstairs.

"My secrets are safe with her." She heard her father's voice when she reached the top of the staircase. He held chocolate bars in his hands and was looking at Kate with a cat that caught the canary grin. "She'll never crack."

Kate looked just as smug. "She gave up your favourite movie pretty quickly."

Alexis couldn't quite hear the words that came from her father's lips but whatever they were, they had confused his friend.

"Monkey-Bunkey?" she had repeated.

The name was all the motivation Alexis needed to get downstairs, now!

"Dad!" she called out as she descended the stairs in record time.

He hadn't, had he? But the confusion on Kate's face assured her that - as her father had pleaded - he hadn't actually spilled any information about the childhood comfort toy that she just couldn't seem to part with. 

"Do you mind putting the next movie on?" her father asked, a little distracted by the popping of corn kernels. "We'll get all this sorted and be there in a minute."

She nodded and moved to the living room.

Kate had come over first, carrying a large bowl of freshly popped popcorn in one hand and a half-dozen chocolate bars in the other. She dumped them on the coffee table, stretched out the fingers of her left hand - with a slight hiss and grimace - and then curled up in the far corner of the couch, opposite the teenager. Her father followed soon after, balancing three cans of fruit punch soda and a small bowl of shredded cheddar cheese. He placed the cans of drink beside the other goodies and then sat in the very middle of the couch.

Alexis couldn't help but smile to herself when she saw the carefully measured distance her father had kept between himself and Kate.

"May I ask what the cheese is for?" Kate asked.

Alexis leant forward and turned to Kate, looking around her father (who had done the exact same thing) to look at the guest in feigned shock-horror. "You've never had cheesy popcorn?"

Kate looked cautiously between Rick and Alexis, and shook her head.

"You have to try it!" Alexis insisted.

Rick leaned forward and grabbed the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table, sprinkled a small amount of cheese over it and then held it out for Kate to sample.

"You doubted the chocolate and potato chip muffins, too," Rick said, reminding Kate of their first coffee date, almost two months ago. Since then, he had convinced her to give them a try and - as he expected she would be - she had been pleasantly surprised by how not awful they were.

Kate sighed. "Fine."

She took a single piece of the popcorn: the first one she found with only a small shred of cheese sticking to the melted butter. She popped it into her mouth and chewed slowly. Then, with a smile, she covered her hand with her mouth and shook her head.

Both Rick and Alexis deflated.

"One day I will stop doubting you," Kate said with a soft chuckle.

"You like it?" Alexis asked, hopeful.

Kate nodded and enthusiastically said, "It's pretty good."

Rick looked at Alexis and smiled.

Kate remained tucked into her corner of the couch, her attention split between the movie she had been so eager to watch and the interactions between father and daughter as they watched a movie they were obviously very familiar with.

The movie was barely five minutes in before Rick tapped Alexis on the shoulder and - as if she could read his mind - she slipped onto the floor and sat between his legs. Without a single word he began to comb his fingers through the girl's long, strawberry blonde hair, separating the strands into smaller sections he could braid.

"Tie," he uttered just a few minutes later.

Alexis pulled an elastic band from her wrist and passed it over her shoulder to her father. He wrapped the band around the end of one French braid, then moved on to the next.

It was obvious that this was almost routine for them. Kate smiled at that thought, at the idea of Rick sitting with his daughter, absent-mindedly playing with her hair as they became absorbed in the fictional world on their screen. Images of the pair at all stages of life swirled in her mind: a cheerful toddler watching princess movies and playing tea party; the first time the girl would have had to take a day off school due to illness, cuddled up to her father's side as he rubbed his hand in soothing circles between her shoulders; to now... a smart, resilient teenager who didn't groan and grumble at the thought of spending time with her father because that's just how it's always been.

Rick had told her that this was always his favourite part of parenthood: just being there.

Seeing it first hand, she could understand why.

"You're gonna miss the best part," Rick said, turning his attention to Kate with a smug got ya! grin on his face.

With flushed cheeks, she turned her attention back to the TV screen just in time to see Elle Woods strut casually by her ex-boyfriend. She tried to stay focussed on the happenings on-screen but the father-daughter duo, transfixed on the scene unfolding before them, had captured her attention once more.

She couldn't help but smile at their perfectly timed (and overly-theatrical) "What? Like it's hard?"

Alexis smiled and shook her head. "Warner sucks," she complained of Elle's ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah," Rick agreed as he tied another elastic band around the second braid. Then he placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders and pulled her back slightly; she looked up at him. "Avoid the Warner's of the world," he lectured playfully - kind of.

The girl smiled. "I prefer to spend my time with the Ashley's," she said sweetly.

Rick groaned and turned to Kate. "The boyfriend who has her considering Stanford."

"It's a good school," Kate said cautiously, earning her a half-hearted glare from Rick.

Alexis, however, was grateful for the comment. She turned her entire body to face the adults on the couch.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, pointedly.

And for a moment, Kate had thought perhaps she had touched on a too-sensitive-for-this-setting topic. But Rick smiled and she was reassured.

"Kate went to Stanford," Rick told his daughter.

The girl looked at her, wide eyed. "You did?"

"She was pre-law," Rick continued. "She could probably tell you a million horror stories about it, talk you out of going," he joked.

Alexis rolled her eyes and Kate had to bring her hand to her face to cover her smirk.

"I'm not getting myself dragged into this," she said definitively.

"That's probably a smart decision," Alexis agreed. Then the girl grabbed the ends of her braids, displaying them proudly. "Can I do yours?" she asked Kate.

Rick looked at her. His eyes conveyed a message: you don't have to.

Kate smiled at Alexis. "I'd love that."

"I'll go get some more hair ties."

As soon as she disappeared upstairs, Rick shifted closer to Kate and draped his arm over her shoulders.

"Has anyone told you that you are a remarkable woman?"

Kate hummed as she leaned against him. "Once or twice," she said jokingly. "But I'm always happy to hear it again."

Rick brushed a gentle, earnest kiss to her lips.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"She's having fun."

Kate smiled. "So am I," she assured him. And then she smiled. "I told you we would."

Chapter Text

Rick opened his eyes to the most beautiful morning: golden rays of sunshine streamed through his bedroom window and the sound of effervescent laughter floated in from the kitchen. He turned his head to Kate's side of the bed, unsurprised to find it empty, and smiled to himself.

He tossed the sheets back and pulled himself from the comforting embrace of his bed, then plod toward that joyous sound that had lured him from his slumber. As he walked through his office door, he smiled at the sight before him: Alexis at the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cereal, and Kate standing in the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in her hands, leaning back against the bench as she effortlessly conversed with his daughter. The interaction itself was nothing meaningful and yet, to him, it meant everything.

Sensing his presence, they both looked in his direction.

"Good morning, my braided beauties," he practically sung as he approached.

He dropped a kiss to the top of his daughter's head as he passed, then walked around the island counter headed toward where Kate stood. Then he stopped, just two feet away from her, frozen in his spot and suddenly so unsure of how to simply greet the woman. Did he kiss her? Hug her? Fist bump her?

Kate smiled an amused smiled, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip to try and keep some sort of control over the curve of her lips.

"Coffee?" she offered after what felt like the longest second of silence.

"Please."

Alexis rolled her eyes and chuckled to herself. "It's fine, guys."

Rick looked at Kate; Kate looked at Rick, then busied herself pouring a fresh cup of coffee.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Dad. I think I can handle the fact that sometimes you-" She gasped theatrically. "Kiss people!" And then pretended to retch.

"I do no such thing!" Rick protested. Kate tried to hide a small laugh as she passed him his cup of coffee. "Thank you," he said to her before moving to the island bench and leaning on his elbows, across from his daughter. "I promised you pancakes."

Alexis swallowed down the mouthful of cereal she had been chewing. "Yeah, well, I wasn't sure if you planned on sleeping all day or not," she teased with a smirk.

Rick scoffed and checked his watch. "It's only 8:30!"

His daughter shrugged and ate another spoonful of cereal.

He turned to face Kate. "Would you like pancakes?" he asked.

"We have leftovers, remember?"

"Yeah," Rick said, nodding his head slowly. "Leftover pancakes."

"In that case, I would love some."

Rick began to move toward the fridge but after only two steps he was stopped by the sound of the door buzzer. He turned to Alexis, the question he didn't vocalise was written in his expression and the girl shrugged.

He turned to Kate. "Are you expecting a visitor?" he joked.

"Oh yeah, did I forget to tell you?" she replied sarcastically.

"Is Gram back?" Alexis asked.

"Not until next week sometime," Rick replied. "And since when does she knock?"

He placed his coffee on the bench and walked across to the entrance, all while running through a mental list of who might possibly be at his door first thing on a Monday morning.

When he opened the door, he wished he had made use of the peep hole. A white-hot rage surged through him as he stared at the red-head on the other side of the threshold; a million-dollar smile planted on her face, coffees and a bag marked with his favourite bakery's logo in her hands.

"Hey, Kitten," she greeted in a flirty, sing-song tone.

Rick couldn't form a complete thought, let alone voice one.

How dare she? came to mind, but seemed insufficient. A mere twelve hours ago their daughter had arrived home in tears, devastated after being shrugged off by her mother. And now Meredith had the nerve to show up as if nothing had happened?

He did consider just slamming the door in her face. As enticing as that seemed - can anyone say catharsis? - he knew that would only make a bad situation even worse.

"Mum?"

He heard Alexis's surprised voice from the kitchen and in his periphery he saw the girl slip from the counter stool and take a few cautious steps closer. He sighed, knowing that if he had been going to slam the door, he had missed the window of opportunity.

"What are you doing here?" Alexis asked.

"I came to see my favourite girl, of course!"

Rick stepped aside to let Meredith in; not that it seemed like she was going to wait for an invitation anyway. Feeling an overwhelming sense of defeat, he flicked his wrist and swung the door shut, waiting until it clicked shut before he turned to face the suddenly too-crowded kitchen.

Kate remained behind the safety of the island counter; a quiet presence, observing, staying out of the danger zone and desperately trying not to draw any attention to herself. He watched her, waited until he had caught her attention and then - when her eyes finally met his - he offered her a small, apologetic smile.

She smiled back. She understood. For Alexis.

"I brought you your favourite," Meredith told Alexis, holding the cardboard tray of takeaway cups on display. "Yours too," she added with a cursory glance over her shoulder to Rick.

It was only when she waltzed over to the counter to empty her hands that she even took note of Kate's presence.

"Goodness, Katt, I didn't see you there!" Meredith remained outwardly cheerful, but there was a bite to her tone. "What on Earth has happened to you?"

Kate smiled politely. "It's a long, boring story. I'm okay, though."

"That's the main thing, right?" Meredith turned to Rick. "If I knew you had guests I would have brought breakfast for them," she said pointedly.

To which he returned, "If I knew you were coming I would have told you." Meredith humphed and he added a very quiet, "not to bother coming at all."

That earned him a glare from his daughter.

"I appreciate the thought, Meredith," Kate said with a warm smile.

Rick appreciated her peacemaking efforts, the neutrality she was bringing to a fraught situation, but he wondered how Kate had managed let the accidentally-on-purpose mix up of her name slide without so much as a split-second glower. The night in the club, Kate had gone head-to-head with Meredith in a battle of who can be more passive-aggressive? She had the passive down pat... but where was the aggressive when he needed it?

Then, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes and the subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm not all that hungry, to be honest. In fact, I might just go get changed while you guys enjoy your breakfast."

Kate smiled and placed her almost-empty coffee mug in the sink, then made her way across the loft toward Rick's bedroom.

And there it was.

One simple, unassuming act that spoke volumes.

And Meredith heard the words that had remained unspoken. She always had been very good at reading between the lines. Two nights ago, when she had turned up unannounced, Rick had turned her away.

And then, he invited Kate to come and stay. He chose her, and not for the first time.

"I'm not sure how comfortable I am with you having overnight guests while our daughter is here," Meredith said through gritted teeth, watching Rick with dagger-slinging eyes as he made his way to the kitchen.

He picked up the coffee mug he had left in favour of answering the door - regret - and took a long, slow sip in order to hold back the are you fucking kidding me?! that sat so bitterly on the tip of his tongue.

Alexis, on the other hand, felt no such need to hold back.

"Well, I wasn't here," she reminded her mother. "Wasn't supposed to be, anyway."

But guilt was not something Meredith was capable of feeling.

"That's right: he kicked us out so that he could have his little sleepover," she argued. "Maybe he should have sent his little friend home instead of prioritising getting la-"

"You want to talk about prioritising?" Rick interrupted, his voice raised just enough to let his ex-wife know that he wasn't playing.

But his daughter stepped up to her mother's side and looked at him with pleading eyes.

Once again, he set his frustrations aside, but he wouldn't apologise.

Silence settled over the loft as they all took a breath and tried to settle their emotions. After just a few seconds, Meredith turned to Alexis and took the girl's hand in hers.

"I wanted to take you out today," she told her daughter. "You know, to try and make up for last night."

It took every ounce of self control he had not to scoff or make a snide remark.

Alexis seemed hesitant; torn between wanting to spend more time with her mother and not wanting to be let down again. Eventually, she nodded.

"Both of you," Meredith added once her daughter was onboard with the plan. She turned to Rick, that million-dollar smile back in place. "I thought we could all do something, just like old times."

"I have plans," Rick said with a shrug.

Meredith rolled her eyes. "She can't give us one day? Come on, it's a family day," she insisted. When Rick didn't budge, she changed tactics. "For Alexis."

And in an instant, that rage was back in full force. For Alexis... as if he hadn't lived every single day of the past seventeen years for Alexis. The fact that she would even try to so blatantly manipulate him like that, try to make him feel selfish-

His daughter's voice stopped that thought. "Oh, uh. I was kind of hoping we could still just have some girl time," Alexis said so meekly it broke Rick's heart.

He hated that his daughter had to play the role of buffer. He sighed and moved closer to them, lowering his voice and forcing any signs of frustration from it.

"If you want a family day, we'll have a family day," he conceded. Meredith smiled, so he continued. "Just not today." He turned his attention to his daughter and addressed her directly. "That okay with you, Pumpkin?"

Alexis smiled gratefully and nodded.

Resentfully, Meredith relented. "Go get dressed, Sweetheart," she said to Alexis.

Kate sat cross-legged on Rick's bed, staring absent-mindedly at the mighty lion portrait that hung on the wall. She hated it. It made her uneasy. But being in here, staring at the hungry eyes of this lion seemed significantly less uncomfortable than being... out there.

She had tried to waste as much time as she could: she dressed herself with no sense of urgency at all; took her time undoing the braids in her hair. She even had plenty of time to comb her fingers through the wild kinks and style them into something she deemed to be acceptable. All this completed to the backing track of dysfunctional family bickering that bled through the walls and made Kate wish she was anywhere but here.

After ten minutes, there was nothing left for her to do. And so, she waited.

Eventually the bickering stopped - or, at least, quietened down - and just minutes later Rick came looking for her. The knock on the bedroom door pulled her eyes away from Linus. She looked over to see Rick poking his head through.

"Hey there," he said softly.

Kate smiled. "Hey there."

He pushed on the door and stepped through, made his way over to his bed.

"Alexis has gone with Meredith," he informed her as he sat on the edge of the bed. "They're going to have a girl's day, apparently."

"Sounds nice."

Kate reached out and placed her hand over his knee and he instantly covered her hand with his.

"I'm sorry," he said with a sigh.

"Don't be."

"She knows your name isn't Katt," he grumbled.

Kate laughed. "I know. I also know that she probably wasn't expecting to come here to find me and Alexis together in matching braids."

Rick smiled, seemingly pleased by the thought.

"She needed to get it out," Kate continued.

"You're not a punching bag."

"I don't care what she calls me, Rick."

Rick smiled at her.

"Is this going to be a problem for her?" Kate asked hesitantly and Rick's smile faded, morphed into a look of confusion. "A family day?" She repeated Meredith's words, letting Rick know that she had overheard at least part of their conversation. "She doesn't seem to like the thought of us spending time together. I mean, is she going to keep coming up with ways to try and interrupt our time together?"

"She won't," he assured her.

"If I've done something to offend her-"

"You haven't."

"I know we got off on the wrong foot-"

"Kate!" he cut her off again. "She's annoyed at me, not you."

"Why? I mean, you guys separated years ago. You've dated since then. You've been married since then. Why is she acting like I'm some homewrecker?"

Rick sighed. He knew this conversation would come up sooner or later - but he was hoping it would be later.

"Meredith has, uh-" He hesitated, considered the many ways he could be avoiding this but he had decided from the very beginning - given Kate's history and the complexities of his relationship with Meredith - that honesty was going to be the best way to defuse this bomb. "She's never been very good at sharing her toys."

Her toy. It was cliche but it was concise; accurate.

He searched Kate's face for any hint of emotion but it remained expressionless. He waited.

One.

Two.

Three seconds of agonising silence.

"You're one of her toys?" she asked.

"I have been, on occasion."

Kate dropped her eyes and focused on her hands, fidgeting in her lap. She nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly, as her mind connected all the little breadcrumbs of information she had collected over the weeks.

Her toy.

On occasion.

"That night in the club?"

"No," he rushed to answer.

Kate looked up, met Rick's eyes. "You were there with her."

He knew the words weren't meant as an accusation. Still, he felt a wave of defensiveness rush through him. "I ran into her, it wasn't planned."

But then again, it never usually was.

"And since then?"

"Definitely not."

He didn't say anything else, just sat in silence as she processed this new information.

What else could he say?

Nothing that would help his case, of that he was sure.

The indiscretions of his past were exactly that: his past. He harboured no feelings of love toward Meredith - he hadn't for years - and while he understood why Kate might have trouble trusting that, he knew that any mistrust was something deep-seated within her and no amount of begging and pleading for her to believe him would make a difference.

But silence was never something he was entirely comfortable with.

"Kate."

She exhaled deeply, offered the closest thing to a smile that she could muster as she uncrossed her legs and pulled herself up off his bed.

"I'm starving," she announced before walking out of the room.

Rick stood and followed her into the kitchen.

He could take a hint: this conversation was over - for now - but he knew better than to think this would be the last they'd be discussing his bad choices.

At this point, he just hoped that he could salvage the rest of the day. He moved closer and placed his hand on Kate's waist.

"I'll make you a fresh coffee."

He gently squeezed her hip, placed a kiss to her shoulder and took the fact that she didn't try to pull away from him as a good sign.

Chapter Text

The day had gone south, there was no denying it.

Credit where credit is due: Rick had tried to keep them from this nose-dive, tried to keep things light. He put on some music, even sang along to songs he knew she liked as they decorated their reheated pancakes with fresh fruit and syrup. As they ate, he read out highlights from the paper and joked about the Yankees and Reds game that she knew he hadn't seen. But, he was trying.

Unfortunately for him, Kate just couldn't shake the feeling that had settled deep in her core. It was a feeling she couldn't describe any more accurately than bad. It wasn't any of the usual suspects: fear, frustration, sadness. Sure, those feelings may have been a very small part of whatever this was but there was something more there; something troubling.

It wasn't a sense of inadequacy, she knew that was more than adequate. Rick was down bad for her, of that she had no doubt in her mind. And because of that confidence, she knew it wasn't jealousy either.

It could have been confusion because this was certainly something she did not understand. Why would Rick - a smart, attractive, successful man who could have any woman he wanted - risk complicating and already complicated family dynamic by having a casual, sexual relationship with Meredith? Not only that; the woman had cheated on him! Was he really that desperate for intimacy that he'd so willingly bypass self respect in favour of sex? He doesn't even get along with her; every interaction Kate had witnessed between the two had been tense to say the least. But then again, perhaps that was sexual tension she had been picking up on.

She tried to move past that line of thought - because, surely he had his reasons for going back, for being her toy (as he had so casually put it) - but it was futile. She had gone down the rabbit hole.

Her toy... Kate didn't even want to think about the connotations of that statement. Was the sex really so good that he was willing to ignore the fact that he so obvious despised the woman?

Maybe that was it, maybe he didn't despise her at all. Maybe he loved her, like he had before she had hurt him. Maybe the arguing, the insistence that she drove him insane, the lovemaking disguised as hate sex was all just a way to keep his heart safe, to spare himself the heartache of history repeating itself.

Denial. That was something she understood all too well.

She knew this horrible feeling wasn't confusion at all. No, what she was feeling was more akin to hopelessness. Like there was an inevitability here. Like she was just destined to be the girl who fell for unattainable guys. Like she was just the time-killer they would pretend they could love until they decided their ex-wives weren't actually all that bad.

And, oh God, what did that say about her?

"You okay, Kate?" he asked.

She snapped out of the war zone that was her own mind and looked at him with a forced smile. "Yeah."

He wasn't buying it, not even for a second.

"You're upset."

She knew there was no point in denying it: she had been caught in a train wreck of thoughts since his well-intentioned, guerilla-attack of a confession knocked her off balance and she knew her internal conflict must have been written all over her face. Yes, she was upset. But she didn't want to be.

"For Alexis." She offered the part-truth with a nonchalant shrug and hoped he would let this rest.

He smiled at her, a genuine smile that told her how grateful he was that she cared.

But his eyes searched hers for the full truth; his eyes knew she was holding back.

She leant her elbows on the table and brought her hands together before scratching compulsively at the chipped polish of her nails, watching flecks of Almost Nude lacquer flutter to the tabletop. Anything to avoid his studying eyes.

"Did you want to talk about... anything?" he asked.

No fucking way, her mind screamed. She just shook her head.

"Kate," he sighed.

"I'm fine, Rick." She made a point of looking up at him, forcing that same unconvincing smile. "Really."

His phone buzzed against the table and she was thankful for the distraction, but Rick didn't look away. He held her gaze for long, scrutinizing seconds and she was sure he wasn't going to relent. Then, with a sigh, he picked up his phone and dropped his eyes to the incoming message.

Kate took a breath and leant back against the dining chair.

"Back to the original plan," he announced, then dropped his phone back down onto the table. "Alexis is going to stay with Meredith."

She could hear the mistrust in his voice; the doubt that sounded an awful lot like fear. Her heart hurt for him: she couldn't imagine what it must be like to have to stand by and watch, time and time again, as the person you loved most got her heart broken by someone she should be able to rely on. To watch Alexis forgive and forget - and act like that was easy to do - purely because she so desperately wanted a relationship with her own mother.

"You think she's going to bail again?" Kate tried to pose the statement as a question, tried to remove the judgemental tone from her voice.

She didn't know Meredith; it wasn't her place to pass judgement on the woman. However, given the little bits of information she did know - and the very few interactions she had seen first hand - she really wouldn't be surprised if Alexis came rushing through that door again, wiping away her tears.

Sometimes it's easier to expect disappointment.

"I don't think so," Rick answered after a beat. But it was obvious that even he didn't believe his words. "I mean, I hope not... for Alexis' sake. The girl might seem like a saint but she's got her limits."

He laughed, tried to play it off as one big joke but his pain was still so evident. Frustration, disappointment. It was obvious that he wanted Meredith to be better: a better person, a better mother. As much as she tried not to, Kate couldn't help but wonder if maybe he wanted Meredith to be better for him, too.

And that bad feeling roared inside her.

Kate cleared her throat. "What did you have planned for today?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

It was a change Rick welcomed.

"I didn't really have a plan, was just going to take it day-by-day, see how you felt," he explained. "Do you feel like doing something?"

She shrugged, so he continued.

"We could go out-"

"And be stared at by the masses because I look like Frankenstein's Monster," she grumbled to herself.

"Firstly; thank you for saying Frankenstein's Monster and not Frankenstein. It drives me crazy when people confuse the two because, like, did you even read the book? Secondly; that's an insult to Frankenstein's Monster," he teased.

Kate looked at Rick, completely taken aback by the comment, and scoffed. But his plan - or, what she could only assume was his plan - had worked. He had shocked her right out of her head space.

She laughed - a genuine laugh - and shook her head.

"Dick," she muttered under her breath.

But the air between them was lighter, the tension dissipated and that bad feeling that had felt like a roaring wildfire in her core had dulled to a much more easily controlled blaze.

"Plenty more books to read," Rick suggested.

Kate looked across to the bookshelf partitions of his office, then back to Rick. "And what will you do?"

"I can read."

"Well, I would hope so: I'd say your career is dependent on the fact."

"Oh, har-har! She has jokes," he whined, but the smile on his face was bright. "Should've been a comedian."

With a smile on her face she rose from the table and made her way across to his office. He followed, and watched her as she scanned the titles for her next literary adventure.

"No poetry today?" he asked as she wandered away from the poetic, historic and romantic shelves.

She stood with her hands on her hips. "I'm thinking... murder mystery."

"One week off work and you're already missing it that much?" he commented with a smirk.

"Just craving a story of substance," she responded with a hint of flirtation. But in an instant, he was crushed. "You do have Patterson, right?"

He fake laughed and she grabbed a copy of Kill Me If You Can.

"The couch?" she asked as she hugged the book to her chest.

"Wherever you're comfortable." Rick walked to his desk and picked up his laptop. "I might do some writing, actually. You know, deadlines and such."

"I get to see you in action?" she asked, buzzing with excitement that he couldn't quite tell if it were genuine or if she was just trying to be playful.

"I assure you it's nothing exciting," he informed her. "You get to see me stare frustratedly at my screen. There might be a short burst of inspiration here and there... if I'm lucky."

Kate smiled. "I thought writing this story was as important as breathing," she teased, recalling Alexis' dramatic explanation.

Rick opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a small pile of envelopes. "It is. However... my prison pen-pal is taking his sweet time replying to my letters so it's like very slow breathing."

"Where is he? Five Points?"

"Sing Sing."

"So, he's local." Kate's brow creased as she lost herself in thought. "Could you interview him, rather than writing back and forth? Would save you some time."

Rick sighed. "Yeah, I tried. Turns out he's not one for visitors."

"Damn."

"I know, right. But that's okay, I've plenty I can do while I wait, he's already given me a tonne of information-" He waved the pile of letters in front of him. "to work with. I just need to actually work with it."

"I will stop distracting you, then," Kate announced.

She made her way to the couch, curled herself up in the corner she was claiming as hers and began to read the book she had selected. Rick made himself comfortable in his own corner and before long, the speedy click-clacking noises that had lured her from his bed just the other night were filling the room. She peeked over the top of her book to observe him; smiled to herself as she did.

The hours passed easily.

Kate was almost half-way through her book when she noticed Rick had been silent - no muttering to himself, no furiously tapping at his keyboard, nothing - for at least fifteen minutes now. She looked up from her book to see him staring blankly at his screen.

"Something wrong?" she asked him.

He looked up from his screen. "I, uh- No. No, nothing's wrong," he said.

But she was anything but reassured.

Kate closed the book and shifted closer. "Rick?"

"Remember how I kinda promised you that, outside of touring, I'm more or less left in peace by paparazzi?"

She felt her stomach drop and her heartbeat falter. "Yeah...?"

"It seems out furniture store outing was deemed newsworthy," he said almost apologetically.

He turned his laptop so that she could see the screen; her face wore a mask of nonchalance but her mind was a hurricane. Taking up almost half of his 15-inch screen was a too high definition photograph of the two of them in the furniture warehouse.

She could pinpoint the exact moment it must have been taken. They had spent the better part of twenty minutes bickering (much like an old married couple) about a console table she had spotted and instantly fallen in love with.

That's the ugliest thing I have ever seen, Rick had said, not even trying to hide his distaste for the piece. And, honestly, he wasn't wrong. It was, uh, an odd design - to say the least - with black, metal legs that resembled toddler's shaped stacking blocks. But that was what she loved about it; she had never seen anything quite like it. Ultimately she had decided she really didn't need it... but by the time they made it to the checkout counter to place her final order, she had changed her mind once again and added it, reminding Rick that he didn't have to love it. He simply shook his head but smiled, as if he loved her defiance. That had been the moment this photo had been snapped: he and Kate stood at the counter, looking at one another with twin smiles on their faces.

Unfortunately, the otherwise cute moment wasn't enough to detract her attention from the intensity of her bruising. "I should have worn a hat or something," she mumbled to herself.

Rick heard the comment; chose to ignore it.

"We're moving in together, apparently."

Kate's eyes scanned the text beside the image: A writer and his muse, moving in!

"I see that," she commented with a smile. "I wish you had told me."

"To think you wasted all that time apartment hunting," he piled on with the shake of his head.

"Speaking of wasting time-" Kate tilted her head to study Rick's face. "Weren't you meant to be writing?" she asked.

Rick turned the laptop back around. "I was. I needed to look something up," he defended.

"And you just happened to stumble upon that article while... researching?"

"I opened the browser to a news page. I saw the photo of you and my curiosity got the better of me."

Kate stayed silent, studying him: she didn't buy it.

"Okay, maybe I saw something about my mystery woman and I went down a little bit of a rabbit hole," he confessed and Kate smiled victoriously. "I've been staring at this screen too long, I think." He closed the laptop and sat it on the coffee table. "I need a break."

Kate closed her book, too, and placed it on the arm of the couch. "What do you want to do?"

He looked around the loft, mentally compiling their options. "We could always watch another movie," he suggested.

But it was obvious in his voice that he wasn't sold on that idea and neither was she. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

"Okay. We could play a board game? I could totally kick your butt in a game of scrabble," he bragged. "Or cards? Poker?"

"You know what?" She moved across the couch, placed her hand over his knee. "Maybe going out isn't such a bad idea."

Rick gently brushed her hair off of her face and then let his hand fall to her waist. "You sure? I know going out yesterday kinda wore you out a bit."

Kate shrugged, tried to play it off as nothing to worry about but Rick's expression told her he wouldn't be convinced otherwise.

"We'll take it easy," she assured him. "I have somewhere I want to show you."

With that, she pushed herself up to her feet and walked toward the table where she had left her phone.

"Can you do another, say, half hour of writing while I make a few calls?" She called the question over her shoulder as she already started scrolling through her phone contacts.

Rick sighed and picked up his laptop. "I guess I could try, for you."

"Thank you," she replied to his sulking with a smile.

Chapter Text

"There's no way to ask this without sounding kinda douchey," Rick said - sounding somewhat apologetic - as they walked through his building's parking garage. "But... do you want to take the Merc or the Ferrari?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Let's keep it low-key, shall we?"

"Got it."

Rick pressed the unlock button on the Mercedes key. But as they strolled past the shiny, red Ferrari Kate couldn't help but admire it.

"You can take it for a ride anytime you like," he told her. "Just say the word."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He rushed the last few steps toward his car; opened the passenger door for Kate. She tossed the tote bag she had packed in secrecy into the car.

"Thank you," she said softly.

She placed her hand over his as she slipped past him, let her fingertips glide across his knuckles as she ducked into the car and he knew it was a purposeful act; her way of saying I'm okay now.

Or, at least, she was trying to be.

He didn't blame her for the dip in her mood earlier: if he were in her position he probably would have been uncomfortable with his confession, too. For a moment there, he had regretted his decision to tell her. She could have remained blissfully unaware, he tried to tell himself. But knowing Meredith the way he did - and knowing how much she seemed to dislike his relationship with Kate - he was almost positive it was only a certain amount of time before she would say something to try and upset the woman she deemed her replacement.

The truth of the matter was simple enough. Once upon a time, Meredith had actually cared for Rick. She had actually wanted this family life with him and - before it all fell apart so spectacularly - they had been happy. She knew him better than anyone else ever had. She could read him like a book; no part of him was a secret to her, even now. And he knew, without a doubt, that that was why she pushed back against Kate. Meredith could see how much he cared for already, how instant and deep that attraction had been even on that very first night.

To Meredith, Kate Beckett had been a genuine threat to her way of life from the very moment Rick had met her.

He had to keep things friendly with his ex-wife for the sake of their daughter. And, for too long, he had mistaken friendly for giving in to her every whim in fear of retaliation. Not saying that he was entirely innocent in all this: he had certainly reaped the benefits of Meredith's desire to remain close. But a line had to be drawn, new boundaries had to be set and right now he was regretting his past weaknesses in doing this.

It was reasonable for Kate to be wary of Meredith, of Rick's weak spots. He just hoped that she would see his honesty for what it was: his first step toward redemption.

"So, where are we headed?" he asked as he turned out of the garage.

"Just head toward Jersey," she instructed him.

"Jersey?" he repeated as if he had misheard her.

Kate smiled. "I promise you, we won't be any more than an hour-ish away if Alexis needs you," she assured him.

"That's not my concern," he said and Kate turned her head to look at him. "It's just... Jersey?"

She laughed quietly and shook her head. "Just- trust me."

And he did.

They drove for a little over an hour until they reached the beautiful little town of Pottersville, New Jersey.

It was picturesque: tree-lined streets, historic buildings and rolling hillsides; this place exuded charm.

"Okay, maybe I judged a little quickly," Rick said as they drove the winding road toward their final destination.

"I can't believe you doubted me," Kate complained. "Turn left here."

Rick followed her direction, turning off the main road onto a long, narrow dirt road that led them toward farmland. About a mile down the road, they came to a simple colonial-style farmhouse. It was a very welcoming little house: with crisp white wood panelling; a large wrap-around porch and carefully tended to garden beds with an array of brightly coloured flowers. On the chain-link fence that bordered the home, Rick noticed a small wooden sign that read : Walsh Farms.

"Follow the driveway out to the back," she said. "There'll be a carport that you can park under."

He turned into the driveway and followed it around the house, then came to a stop under the wooden shading and killed the engine of his Mercedes.

Kate got out of the car and rushed toward the house - bounding up the two steps to porch, where a woman (around Kate's age) had stepped outside - while Rick lingered a little to observe.

"Aggie," Kate greeted and wrapped her arms around the woman. Aggie returned the warm embrace with equal enthusiasm. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too," the woman said with a smile. She pulled back, placed her hands on Kate's shoulders as she studied her face with a look of genuine concern. "What have you done to yourself, Katie?"

Kate just smiled. "A little mishap at work," she told her friend casually, as if the injury had come from something silly like tripping over her own feet, not from hand-to-hand combat with a ruthless killer twice her size. "I'm fine. In a few days it'll barely be noticeable."

Much to Rick's delight, Aggie gave Kate a very knowing look; one that practically screamed that's bullshit.

"Anyway..." Kate drawled, turning her attention to Rick. Aggie looked over at him, too. "This is my friend, Rick."

"Nice to meet you." He waved, walked toward the house and the women met him halfway, at the bottom of the porch steps.

"The writer, right?" Aggie asked as she took Rick's proffered hand and shook. "I read some of your books. Aunt Jo was always readin' them."

"Oh, you're cousins?"

Kate smiled and shook her head. "Aggie's mum went to boarding school in the city," she began to explain.

"She met Aunt Jo at an inter-school science competition or something," Aggie continued. "They were teamed up for the final task and they hit it off. Instant best friends."

Rick couldn't help but notice the way Aggie looked at Kate, the way Kate looked at Aggie. There was a deep connection between them; like Aggie was someone truly special to her... and he was being allowed in to this precious corner of her life.

"Katie and I practically grew up together: I love the city and, because Aunt Jo and Uncle Jim worked so much, she would spend some time out here during school breaks helping us out on the farm."

Rick couldn't suppress his chuckle. "I'm sorry. I just- I had mental images of you, like, trying to milk a cow."

Aggie laughed, too.

"It's a blueberry farm," Kate corrected him with a forced frown. "I spent my days picking fruit. Kind of."

"Barely," Aggie corrected with a smirk. "We spent most of our time dodging our responsibilities. It was much more fun to sneak off and hang out with the college kids that were home for the break. Or to go have a picnic by the river." She stopped, turned her focus back to Kate. "Speaking of which; everything is ready to go."

"Thank you so much," Kate said, before giving her friend another warm hug. "I owe you, big time!"

"You owe me nothing," Aggie insisted. "You know where the key is. Have fun."

Kate walked back to Rick's Mercedes and retrieved the tote bag she had tossed into the back seat during their drive, then signalled for Rick to follow her. They walked a few hundred yards toward a large, 3-bay shed at the back of this fenced-off section of property.

Behind the shed Rick could see vast fields of green shrubbery.

"Blueberries, hey?"

Kate looked at him, smiled when she saw the dopey half-smile on his face.

"You got some Farm Girl Fantasy I need to know about?"

"No, but I wouldn't object to you calling me Darlin' in a thick Southern accent," he admitted.

She laughed. "Not gonna happen." She lifted the rolling door of the first shed bay, then turned to Rick with a smile. "You ready?"

"Ready, Darlin'," he said, sticking to the shtick.

Kate rolled her eyes and stepped into the old shed. Rick followed.

Sunlight streamed through the open door and through cracks in the tin panelling, illuminating airborne specks of dust that swirled through the air. The back wall was lined with shelving and a workbench; old tools and half-finished projects laid scattered in the space before them. As Rick moved further into the shed, he passed a beat up pick-up truck that was covered in a thick layer of dust. It was old, circa 1988, and had obviously been put to use over the years; flogged by day-to-day farm work. It's dull orange paint job was embellished by stickers - supporting the local surrounding farms and schools - that had faded from exposure to sunlight.

"Bobby's true love," Kate stated with a fond, reminiscent smile. Then something in her eyes changed, became sad. "He passed away almost a year ago. No one's touched his space since."

Rick's hand, that had been resting on the tray of the pickup, fell to his side. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Kate pushed on, wouldn't allow the lingering grief to be felt. Not right now, anyway.

"This one's ours," she said, pointing to the newer, shinier pickup down in the third bay. "Can you get that door?"

They pulled back out onto the narrow, dirt road and followed it down toward the thick forest land that separated Walsh Farms from Lamington River.

Kate took a sharp turn onto well-worn tire tracks that cleared a path between the trees. She drove slowly, careful not to rush down the steady slope, toward the river until they came to a clearing. She reversed and pulled up on a firm patch of grass by the riverbank and killed the engine.

She jumped out of the pickup, moved to the back and started to unhook the elastic loops of the soft tonneau cover. As he had for most of the afternoon, Rick followed her without a word. He began to assist, unlooping the elastic from the other side of the tray. He looked up, across the tray and saw Kate looking at him, smiling playfully. Without a single word exchange, he knew why. She shuffled along her side of the vehicle, picking up her pace. He followed suit, a sudden competitiveness overcoming him. Her giggles as she came to the end of the tray, hooking her forefinger through one elastic loop after another, were like sweet music to his ears but he wouldn't be deterred or distracted; he took advantage of having use of both his hands and began reaching for two hooks at once.

"Hey, you cheat!" she declared as she swatted his hand away from the final hook.

Rick swatted back playfully, earning himself a hip-bump as she tried to scoot her body in between him and the pickup.

She unhooked the final loops and cheered victoriously, "I win!"

"Nuh-uh! You had a head start and I still managed to meet you halfway. I think you'll find that makes me the winner."

Kate scoffed. "On what planet does that make you the winner?"

"On a more logical planet than the one that would declare you the winner," he retorted.

She simply rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Help me pull this off?"

They each grabbed a corner of the tray cover and began to roll it back, revealing what awaited them beneath. The inside of the hard plastic tub was pristine - definitely not what one would expect of an everyday-use farm vehicle - decorated with colourful blankets, marshmallow-like cushions and a large, wicker picnic basket in the very centre of the tray. Tucked neatly into one corner were two tidily rolled towels.

"When Aggie said you guys would picnic by the river I was picturing a little rug and some shrink-wrapped sandwiches," Rick commented as he studied the set-up.

"Aggie had always been one to, ah, overdo it," Kate explained with a smile. "But, in the best way!"

Rick tore his attention away from the rather romantic little set up and settled his focus on Kate, who looked over their picnic with what could only be described as a look of utter gratitude.

"I can see that."

She turned her attention to him and smiled. "You wanna go for a swim?"

"I would love to," he said. "Unfortunately-" He took a small step closer to her. "you didn't warn me that I might need swimmers."

Kate's eyes slowly raked over him; from his eyes, down, and then back up again.

"I am starting to regret being so prepared," she said, her voice husky. She tilted her head back toward the cab of the pickup. "The tote."

He walked to the passenger door and pulled the tote bag from where it had sat at his feet. Opening it, he found his swimming trunks and two of his plain cotton tees.

"Do you always just help yourself to people's closets?" he said jokingly as he tipped the contents of the bag into the back of the pickup.

"Only when necessary, I assure you." She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I hope you don't mind but, seeing as I didn't have the foresight to pack my own swimwear, I'll have to borrow one of your shirts."

He smirked as he looked over his shoulder to her. "You could always skinny dip," he suggested.

She laughed.

"Unfortunately we're no longer on Walsh property and the last thing I want is to be arrested for public indecency. Besides, some of the local kids fish around here after school, wouldn't want to traumatise them."

"How unfortunate for me," Rick pouted.

"Race you to the river?" Rick asked as he swapped his jeans for trunks.

"Are you a child?" Kate laughed as she tucked her clothing into the tote bag.

Before he could answer, she tossed the tote into the back of the pickup and ran off toward the flowing water.

Rick threw his clothes haphazardly to the side and rushed off after her. He caught up quick enough, just in time for them to both splash into the water together.

It took a second, but as soon as his body registered the change he sucked in a gulp of air. Kate turned to him, her eyes wide with shock and regret.

"It's freezing!" she all but yelped.

He shook his head. "Just gotta push through," he assured her. "Let your body adjust. It's fine. It's fine."

But the more he said it, the less convincing he sounded. Thigh-deep, he waded closer to her and wrapped his arms around her in attempt to warm her: not that his body would do any better than the warm sun could when her lower-half was completely submerged in the cold streaming water.

Still, she melted into his arms and rested her cheek to his chest as if he was the solution to all her problems. He held her just that little bit tighter, pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

The water lapped at their thighs, slowly warming as their bodies adjusted to the sudden change and - when he was sure the chill wouldn't carry quite so much bite - he smiled to himself.

He just couldn't resist.

"You ready?" he asked her.

She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him, confusion glimmering in her eyes. "Ready for what?"

He watched as it dawned on her, and confusion became anticipation: excited, yet slightly fearful.

"No," she said and shook her head, but it only encouraged his antics.

Rick leaned to the side, with a theatrical "Woah!" as if he was losing balance, not purposefully dunking them both.

"Rick, don't!" she warned through poorly withheld laughter. "No!"

Her protest was the last thing he heard before they went under. By the time he surfaced, she was already upright and wiping the water from her face.

"You are a child!" she scolded playfully, then splashed water in his direction.

She splashed him again, not satisfied with her first attempt.

"I'm sorry," he said in between laughs.

He reached out for the soaked material that clung to her waist, ghosted his fingertips over her hips.

She shook her head. "Uh-uh! You're in trouble now," she warned.

But her smile was bright, her laughter so pure and unadulterated.

He loved it.

Loved her.

He grabbed her waist and took another step closer - drawn to her, like a moth to a flame - and her hands fell to rest on his chest as she relaxed into his arms.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, this time devoid of laughter.

Her laughter came to an end, too, and she stared into his eyes as she tried to catch her breath.

Rick leaned in slowly and kissed her.

Author's notes:

Hi guys!
Once again, thank you so much for reading! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Your reviews and messages have all been so kind and wonderful and are absolutely making me so giddy right now! Thank you guy so much, I really appreciate the love you're sending.

I hope you're enjoying the little step outside of the city that we've taken in this chapter (and the next).
I know absolutely nothing about Pottersville, NJ except for one little travel blog I stumbled upon so I do apologise if I have interpreted it's charm entirely wrong.
As for Johanna's backstory... I really just needed a valid reason for Kate to know someone who lived by a river with a big ol' pickup truck! And I loved the idea of childhood friends growing up and raising children together, you know? And with Pottersville being only an hour(ish) away from NYC I figured it isn't entirely impossible.

Maybe we'll get more stories of little Kate and Aggie... or maybe I'll forget all about poor Aggie, who knows. But it was nice to write a friend outside of the main group.

Anyways, I'm rambling on now. Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter Text

Casual rating reminder, guys.

Rick grabbed one of the towels from the pickup and wrapped it around Kate's shoulders.

She looked up at him with a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said softly.

"You're welcome."

He became distracted: her hair had mostly dried - with the exception of the end few inches that would find themselves re-submerged as she moved through the water - and was beginning to frame her face in a damp, frizzy mess. He smiled as he smoothed his hand over the fly-aways and tucked them neatly behind her ear.

"I wouldn't bother," she warned him. "It's only going to get worse."

Rick shrugged. "I like it."

She just smiled and shook her head.

When Rick moved to grab a towel for himself, Kate slid into the passenger's seat of the pickup and began riffling through the centre console and glove compartment.

"Looking for something?" Rick asked, towelling his hair until it was just as crazy as hers.

"Found it." She smiled at the dampened mess atop his head and slipped out of the vehicle holding a small first aid kit. "Just want to clean this up a little," she said in reference to the laceration on her forehead.

She pulled a small, square packet from the first aid kit and Rick took the red box from her hands. He watched as she pinched the corner of the packet and attempted to tear it open, to no avail.

"Is your wrist hurting?"

She frowned, her attention fixed to the packet in her hands. "No, it's fine. I just-" She tried to open it again, but it slipped from her fingers. "can't get a proper grip," she huffed.

Rick tossed his towel over his shoulder and leant down to grab the packet she dropped. "I got it."

When he stood upright again, he passed her the first aid kit to free up his hands. Then he ripped the packet open with ease.

"I'm very over this," Kate complained as she waved her injured wrist around. Rick laughed. "I can't do anything."

"Well, that's a lie," Rick said with a frown. Quickly, his frown turned to a smirk. "You're doing an excellent job holding that," he commented as he pointed to the first aid kit she was now hugging to her chest.

She tried not to, but the corners of her mouth began to curve.

He smiled when she did: mission accomplished.

He pulled the sterile wipe out of the packet and took a step closer to her. With his left hand, he used his knuckles to brush stray strands of hair from her forehead and hold them out of the way while he carefully cleaned her injury.

"It's only been a few days," he reminded her; his voice gentle and understanding.

"It's just frustrating."

"I know."

He slipped the wipe back into it's packaging and tossed it into the cab of the pickup. Then he took the kit from Kate and rummaged for a band-aid.

She watched him as he pulled the sterile strip and scissors from the box, then tossed the kit in with the discarded wipe. With intent focus, he unwrapped the strip and cut it down to a more reasonable size before very gently pressing it over the cut.

She couldn't help but smile; it surprised her how much she liked being taken care of by Rick. There was something in the way he cared for her that told her he didn't think she was weak or incapable or that she needed someone to make it better. He simply wanted to help; and she found herself wanting to let him.

When his hands framed her face and he leaned in slowly to press a delicate, healing kiss to her forehead her eyes fluttered shut and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Thank you."

The sun, although low in the sky, was still beaming down on them with impressive warmth: they were dry (enough) in no time. Rick took Kate's hand and helped her climb up into the back of the pickup. He followed and they settled against the marshmallow-soft cushions that sat propped up by the cabin.

"You hungry?" Kate asked him, already reaching for the picnic basket that had been packed for them.

"Yeah, what have we got?"

Kate sat the basket in front of them and opened it to reveal a charcuterie-style box. The box contained cured meats, different cheeses, olives, crackers, an assortment of fruits and some heart-shaped chocolates. Tucked behind the box was a bottle of champagne and two flutes.

Rick looked over the spread in front of him, thoroughly impressed. "Not bad for a few hours notice," he commented.

"Aggie loves this kind of thing," Kate explained. This kind of thing being catering: her friend used to dream of starting her own catering company. "When I called and asked if she could throw something together for us, she was happy to help."

Rick took the flutes and the bottle of sparkling wine, and poured them each a glass.

"To Aggie," he said, holding his glass up in a toast. "For providing the essentials for a wonderful evening."

Kate smiled. "To Aggie."

Their champagne flutes clinked together and they took a small sip.

"In about an hour the sun will set right over the clearing here." She pointed downstream, toward a patch of bright blue sky that broke through the thick tree coverage. "It's beautiful this time of year."

Rick looked at her with a smile.

She studied his eyes for a moment before tilting her head and asking, "What?" with a slightly self-conscious giggle.

"You've planned the perfect first date," he commented, sure to put extra emphasis on the date part.

Because, to him, that was exactly what this was: a very sweet, very romantic date. The first of many, he hoped.

But she shook her head. "No I didn't."

"You did!" he argued with a smile, because he had known she would deny it. "This is totally a date. It's private, romantic, you've got strawberries and champagne-"

"Okay, fine," she relented. "Maybe it's a date."

His smile grew tenfold; but he wasn't done teasing her yet.

"Kinda flies in the face of your it's just sex, nothing else is going to change idea, doesn't it?"

She scrunched up her nose and he knew she wanted to argue back, but she had no ground to stand on.

"Fine. Maybe it's just sex and the occasional date." She took a deep breath. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Oh, no, not at all," he insisted. "I just want it on the official record that you did all of this of your own accord."

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. "What's your point?"

"You want me," he stated matter-of-factly. And then he laughed. "You want me so bad."

"Oh, shut up," she laughed as she pushed him away playfully.

He pushed back, gently nudging his shoulder against hers. "It's okay. It can be our little secret."

Through the blankets, he could feel the ridges of the hard-plastic tub digging into his spine as he laid diagonally in the back of the pickup. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't exactly pleasant.

And yet, he never wanted to move from this position.

Kate used him as a pillow; her head resting on his abs as they stared up at the star-filled sky above them. His arm draped casually over her torso, fingertips delicately tracing patterns on her skin under his cotton tee while he absent-mindedly smoothed his other hand over the locks of hair splayed over his chest.

The sun had set over two hours ago and they had spent the time since just enjoying the calm and the quiet, enjoying one another's company, enjoying the bottle of champagne they knew they shouldn't finish but had come pretty close to doing so. Rick, knowing he had to get them back to the city somehow, had stopped after one glass but had continued to top up Kate's flute throughout the evening. After what he could only estimate to have been three glasses, she corked the bottle and moved it out of his reach with the comment that getting her drunk wouldn't help him 'score'.

Contrary to her words, however, she had spent the majority of the evening touching and kissing and not even trying to hide how much she wanted him.

Not that it mattered: neither one of them had been in a particularly frisky mood when they'd left his loft and, therefore, making sure they had protection on-hand wasn't exactly a priority. And they'd had the conversation already: every single time, no exceptions. They had both been tested, of course, but the subject of exclusivity was never broached.

No, that had felt too much like commitment. She wasn't ready for that and he knew it. While he knew that he was exclusively hers, and he had very strong suspicions that she wasn't entertaining anyone else at the moment, without hearing the words come directly from her mouth he knew better than to assume.

But still, desire burned through his veins. Or maybe it was the light buzz of alcohol. Or simply the romanticism of it all: the charm of this quaint little town; the afternoon of carefree fun and laughter; the magic of such reverent touches under a canopy of stars. She hadn't been hiding how much she wanted him and, if he were to be totally honest, having to keep his own urges, his own desires under control could near kill him at this point.

She rolled to her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and smiled at him. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked.

He slipped his hand under the cotton tee again, flattened his palm against her spine and began to slowly rubs circles on her back to buy himself a few precious seconds to gather his thoughts. Because, in this moment, there were only two things on his mind.

I want you.

Duh. That was nothing new.

And then there was the big one, the thought that had consumed him entirely since the moment it first popped into his head.

I love you.

He'd had to bite his tongue all damn day to make sure that one hadn't slipped out accidentally. Usually, he wouldn't have tried so hard. Usually, he would have let the confession happen naturally, saying the words the moment they had felt right. But the last thing he wanted to do was scare her off, not after the perfect afternoon they'd shared.

So, he voiced the first safe thought that popped into his head.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he said earnestly.

Kate smiled and he could see that she appreciated the fact that he appreciated being here.

"I love this place," she said. "I just- I wanted to share it with you."

His heart fluttered and filled with joy. This place was special to her, of that he was certain, and she wanted to share it with him. That alone told him everything he wanted to know, confirmed to him that they were making progress, that she was almost ready.

Rick leaned forward, kissed her with the passion and love that he could no longer hold back.

It seemed Kate didn't want to hold back any longer, either, and she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm. Her lips parted in invitation, an opportunity he wouldn't pass up, and his tongue danced with hers.

He shifted, desperate for more contact, for her skin against his. His fingers tangled in her hair as she rolled to her back and he hovered over her, careful not to rest too much of his weight on her. He settled between her legs, his hips pushing against hers and she moaned against his mouth. The sound alone was enough to dissipate the last iota of his self-control; paired with her heavy breaths and the gentle rock of her hips against his, he was a man on the very edge of a treacherous cliff.

His hands wandered of their own accord, an act of blatant disobedience as his mind screamed to slow down. His palm pressed to the silky-smooth skin of her thigh, smoothed up over her hip, waist and abs until his fingertips ghosted the underside of her breast, eliciting a sigh from Kate.

She shuddered when he swiped his thumb across the hardened peak of her nipple, whimpered against the firm press of his lips.

"Kate-" Her name was a strained whisper, his question remained unasked.

Yet, she answered. "It's okay," she assured him. "I'm good, if you are."

Their promise to each other - promise, rule, whatever - echoed in his mind again. Protection: every single time, no exceptions. But he was too far gone. His need for her trumped any and all logical thought.

He pressed a rough kiss to her mouth and then sought to rid her of her underwear as quickly as possible. She returned the favour, tugging at his pants until he rolled to his back and helped her slide them down his legs. She rose to her knees and moved to straddle his lap, gasping as the evidence of his arousal pushed against her core. Her hips rolled slowly and his eyes fluttered, but he forced them open: he wanted to watch her, to see her pleasure.

He looked up at her - a beautiful, moonlit silhouette against the dazzling backdrop of a hundred thousand stars - and was filled with the overwhelming need to be as close to her as possible, closer than possible. To move with her, breathe with her, be one with her. He pulled himself up, wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him as he shuffled back to lean against the cab of the pickup.

"Is this okay?" he whispered against her neck before he closed his mouth over her fluttering pulse-point.

Her head dropped back, eyes closed and she sighed as his tongue laved at the sensitive zone. "Yes," she whispered back, breathlessly.

But she made no move to progress this; just basked in the sensation of his hands on her waist, his lips at her throat and his tongue on her skin.

"Are you su-"

She latched onto his lips, silenced his questions with her tongue against his: yes, she was sure. Her hand flitted down between them and she gently caressed him, lined him up with her and sank down onto him.

His grunt masked her gasp as he filled her and his grip on her hips tightened, holding her steady as he tried desperately to regain his composure.

"God, Kate-" His voice was gravelly; a mere whisper between breaths that sent a shiver rushing down her spine. He pressed his palm to her lower back and she arched into him, looped her arms around his neck as his touch slowly moved upward and into the curls of her hair. "How'd I get so lucky?" he whispered in her ear.

She smiled, giggled quietly to herself but good god, it was music to his ears.

And then, finally, she moved. Just a gentle rock, an expertly executed roll of her hips that made it impossible to focus on anything other than how it felt to be inside her, to hold her and taste her and love her.

He kept her steady rhythm with his own slow thrusts. Each breath, each moan, each word whispered against skin created the sweetest of melodies as they moved in near-perfect synchrony, working toward their crescendo. He felt the unmistakeable signs of her climax approaching: her measured pace faltered, her muscles stiffened as she contracted around him and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder.

He whispered her name into her hair. "I'm close," he warned.

He placed his hands on her hips, ready to pull himself from her but her thighs tightened around his waist.

"Don't stop," she breathed against his neck; so needy, pleading with him rather than her usual authoritative instruction.

But he needed to be sure.

"Look at me." He cupped her face and guided her focus to him.

It took a second for her to break through her haze, for her eyes to settle on his but when they did she read his unasked question in his eyes and she nodded. "I'm sure."

She rested her forehead against his, placed her hand over his at her cheek and laced their fingers together.

It didn't take long to build her back up again and those same telltale signs made themselves known. He felt the ghost of her lips against his, the warmth of her stuttered breath against his cheek and his chin as she lost herself in the throes of orgasm. Her pleasure pulled him over the edge and he pulled her hips down, held her against his body as he jerked and spilled into her.

They didn't move, didn't speak; just held each other as they caught their breath and calmed the beating of their hearts.

After just a few minutes, she took his hand - still cloaked in hers - and turned her head to press soft kisses to his fingertips, to his palm, to his wrist. Then, she placed it over her heart.

Over her shoulder, a shooting star caught his eye.

"Make a wish," he said and she turned to watch as the star burned across the night sky. Once it was out of sight, she turned back to him with a smile. "Did you make a wish?"

She nodded, hummed her confirmation. "Did you?"

"Of course!"

He wished this night would never end.

Pottersville lacked many of the familiarities of home: the ever-present noise of city life; the musty smell of exhaust fumes from busy streets; the constant light from buildings, street lights and traffic. The hum of nature surrounded them: frogs and crickets and the rustling of the night air through tree leaves. In the moonlight, they walked hand-in-hand from the shed toward the lone, softly glowing lamp under the carport where Rick had parked his Mercedes.

The rest of the farm was cloaked in darkness, the stillness of night.

Rick turned his head to look at Kate, who had been awfully quiet since packing up the pickup and leaving their river-side date. He watched as she stared at the ground, completely lost in thought.

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked up at him, smiled and nodded. "Just tired."

She slipped her hand from his, snaked her arm around his waist and tucked herself against his side. He draped his arm around her shoulder and held her close as they walked.

"You sure?" he pushed.

He felt the brush of her cheek against his chest as she nodded.

"Let's get you home, then."

When they reached his car, he opened the passenger door for Kate and pressed a kiss to her head before she got in. As he walked around the front of the car, he saw an envelope tucked underneath his wind-shield wiper blade. He plucked it from it's position and peeked inside, finding half a dozen photographs of two young girls. He smiled to himself: he could only assume the girls in the images were Aggie and Kate.

He got into the car and held the envelope out for Kate. "I think these are for you."

She took the gift from him and pulled the photographs out, perusing them in silence as Rick began the journey home.

Occasionally he would look over to find her smiling at one of the images and he hoped that one day - maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but one day - she would share with him the stories behind those photographs, share the memories of her childhood friend with him.

For anyone who could make Kate smile like that was someone he wanted to know.

Chapter Text

She had tossed and turned all night. Sheer exhaustion would drag her off into the land of slumber, only for the nagging insecurities of her mind to startle her awake too soon afterward. This happened again and again until Rick's bedroom slowly began to fill with the morning's first light.

Rick had slept peacefully, of course, curled up against her body with his arm draped casually over her waist. His chest was pressed against her back, each soft puff of his breath skirted along the exposed skin at the back of her neck.

She found it comforting.

And that was terrifying.

She knew Rick had just been teasing her yesterday with his commentary about the perfect first date.

You did all of this of your own accord.

Kinda flies in the face of your it's just sex idea.

You want me. You want me so bad.

The truth of the matter was that he was one hundred percent correct: she wasn't acting like someone who was uncommitted, like someone who was in control of their feelings. She was acting a fool. Letting her heart lead the way, all giddy and schoolgirl-like. She was acting like someone who was actually capable of giving Rick what he wanted, what he deserved. Love.

If she were to be honest with herself, she wanted nothing more than to be that person. The idea of diving right into this with him was one that filled her stomach with butterflies and her heart with hope. But then this happened. Every single time she tried to be care free. Every single time she tried to follow her heart instead of her brain.

It happened when it was dark; when it was quiet; when Rick wasn't studying her every expression, ready to smother those first flames of doubt with his reassurances. This fear would creep in, spread into every corner of her mind like the disease it was, and send her spiralling. The voice in her head would tell her this wasn't real.

History is bound to repeat itself.

And that horrible feeling of hopelessness and inevitability sunk deep to the pit of her stomach again.

If she let herself get carried away, she was going to get hurt. Or worse: she would hurt him. And that was something she would never be able to forgive herself for.

She startled - for the umpteenth time in what felt like days, not mere hours - when she felt the flutter of Rick's lips against the base of her neck; his gentle, good morning butterfly kisses that never failed to send shivers down her spine and prickle her entire body with goosebumps. This morning was no different and, as the stubble of his unshaven chin tickled between her shoulder blades, she smiled. Despite the chaos of her mind, despite the fear that filled her, he made her smile.

Sure, she was scared. Sure, that voice in her mind was telling her that now was the time to run. And, sure, maybe this was moving entirely too fast for it to end any way other than in flames.

But maybe it wouldn't. Maybe she felt the overwhelming need to run because she had never tried it any other way. And maybe being scared was just the natural response to having found something worth losing.

She sighed and relaxed into his embrace. She loved this; she didn't think she wanted to walk away from it even if that was what was best for them both.

She placed her hand over his, at her hip, and laced their fingers together.

"Good morning," she whispered to him.

His kisses moved from the back of her neck around to the sensitive spot behind her ear and she giggled as his stubble tickled her.

"Good morning," he whispered back to her; his voice deep and gravelly from lingering traces of sleep.

And maybe just a little bit of lust.

He nibbled at the shell of her ear as his hand - still laced with hers - slipped underneath her camisole and roamed across her abs and chest.

She moaned as he massaged her breast.

"I love that sound," Rick told her. "I could get used to mornings like this."

Her heart skipped a beat - or two, or three... or eight - and suddenly it was like she couldn't breathe, like the air had been sucked right out of the room.

He noticed the change, immediately. Of course he noticed immediately. He lifted his head, craned his neck to get a better look at her.

"Kate?"

The gravel in his voice, the lust that was oozing from him: it was gone, replaced entirely by genuine concern and damn it she hated how easily he read her involuntary cues.

It's gonna hurt like hell when he walks away, that nasty little voice in her head taunted her. It's gonna hurt like hell when you lose this.

She squeezed her eyes shut, blocked out the images of Rick's worried face. But she couldn't block out his voice.

"Are you okay?"

She rolled, pushed him onto his back and threw her leg over his to straddle him. The sudden movement surprised him, threw him off enough that he didn't immediately try to stop her when she answered his question with a deceitful kiss. If he was kissing her, he wasn't asking her questions she didn't want to answer, questions she didn't know how to answer.

Because, no, she wasn't okay. And no, she didn't understand why.

But as Rick's shock wore off and he kissed her back, she found the fault in this plan. Last night, while caught up in a moment, they had set a precedent. Rick's kiss, his touch, it was all wrong. It was gentle, completely unhurried, loving.

She just needed that to stop.

She carded her fingers through his hair, pulled him closer as she turned his agonizingly affection kiss into something more ravenous, almost bruising. Faithfully, he read her cues; gripped her hips and matched her intensity. It was hot, and rough, and deliciously greedy. Desperate, and emphatic, and delectable. It was exactly what she needed: it was everything but loving.

Rick sat up, pulled away from Kate just long enough to lift her camisole over her head and carelessly toss it aside. In an instant his mouth returned to her, but not to her lips. His mouth closed over her throat and he gently nipped at her pulse-point, then soothed the sting with the lave of his tongue. He remained latched, sucking at her skin until she felt it tingle and she knew he was trying to leave his mark on her.

She palmed the back of his head, tangled her fingers through his hair before balling her fist. She tugged - forceful enough to inflict just enough pain - and pulled his head back to look her in the eye.

"What are you trying to mark your territory or something?" she asked him.

He smiled a dishonestly coy smile and shrugged. "Maybe."

Her heart fluttered again. And her mind screamed.

"I'm not yours," she whispered.

She expected to see something on his face, in his eyes. Hurt, or annoyance, or even sadness. She saw nothing; nothing but a slight smirk.

And her stomach flipped. Again and again, until she felt nauseous.

She didn't want to know what that meant. Was he calling her bluff? Or did he believe her lies, testing her, relieved to see that the events of last night hadn't changed anything for her?

When he opened his mouth, undoubtedly ready to spill some sort of witty retort, she slanted her mouth over his and swallowed his words.

Something within him awakened - some primal instinct - and he flipped them, pinned her to the mattress with her hands above her head. His lips were rough against hers as he kissed her, but only for a moment before he descended to plant open-mouth kisses against her jawline, her neck, her collarbone. Her wrist ached under his grip but she didn't care: this was better. A battle of two bodies; fighting for control, fighting for release.

She knew it was a matter of semantics but if it felt like this was just sex (and definitely, absolutely, positively not making love), then maybe she could convince herself that she wasn't spiralling out of control, that she wasn't falling for this man when she was far from ready to be falling in love again.

When he released her wrists in favour of roaming the curves of her body as he kissed every bared inch of flesh, she reached for his bedside drawer and blindly felt around for the box of condoms kept there.

Barriers. She needed her barriers back: both emotional and physical.

It was a slip of the tongue, she was sure. He didn't actually mean it. But, still, the words had been said. A quiet, breathless utterance that seemed to freeze time itself.

Well, for her, anyway. Rick didn't even seem to notice his slip of the tongue. He rolled over, slipped out from under the sheets and practically strutted toward his shower without a single word.

Maybe she had misheard. Or maybe she had imagined it completely.

Regardless, she needed to get away.

Rick came out of the bathroom - dressed in boxers and a clean, white shirt; his hair dripping from his shower - as she was stuffing the last of her belongings into her backpack.

"What's this?" he asked curiously.

Kate stopped her hurried packing, stayed still enough that he might think she was actually frozen. Her eyes scanned his face as she remained silent and hoped he could fill in the blanks.

He did.

"You're leaving."

Her eyes darted to her backpack, at the jeans half hanging out of the unzipped compartment. She stuffed them in.

"Wouldn't want to outstay my welcome," she mumbled in attempt to keep her departure light-hearted.

She didn't want to throw this away. She just... needed space.

"Have a done something to make you feel like you have?"

Not at all. The opposite, in fact.

She shook her head, zipped up her backpack.

"No. You haven't. I just-" She inhaled, looked everywhere except at him. "I mean, Alexis is back tomorrow anyway, so..."

She let her words trail off; it's not like she had an actual excuse to vocalise anyway.

Rick stayed silent, stayed staring. She could feel him studying her for what felt like forever. It was unnerving, to say the least. She felt like a suspect being interrogated; she had a newfound understanding of why so many of them cracked so easily.

"Rick-"

He cut her off. "Is this about last night?"

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

"You regret it," he answered for her.

But he was wrong.

Maybe.

"No," she said as confidently as she could. She even shook her head for emphasis. She could tell he wasn't convinced. "I don't regret it. However, it maybe wasn't the smartest decision."

"Okay," he said slowly, drawing the syllables out to buy more time to gather his thoughts. "So, we made a decision in the heat of the moment because we trust each other, right?"

Her head bobbed in agreement, without her permission. She did trust him. You know, before that stupid voice told her not to. Even then, she'd argue with that voice until the end of time. She trusted Rick. Right?

"But just because we did something once doesn't mean we have to do it again. I mean, I personally had no intention of that happening again."

"Rick-"

"Safety first, and all."

"Rick."

"Kate."

She sighed. "It's not that."

It was that, though. At least, that was part of it.

"Then what is it?"

Kate sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling; dropped her eyes to the ground to stop Rick from studying them.

"All of it," she confessed. "I shouldn't have taken you there."

"You said you wanted to share it with me." The shake in his voice broke her heart. "I'm glad you did."

"It's just a stupid river but-" She looked up to meet his eyes. "It's like a sacred place to me, you know?"

She could see that he was trying to understand. God, if only she was better at this, better at explaining the mess of thoughts swirling around in her mind.

"And now-" She shook her head. "Now it's tainted."

"Tainted?" He spat the word as if it tasted bitter.

It's not what she meant. The words just weren't coming out right, but she couldn't stop. "Every time I go there, I'm only going to be able to think about you, and me, and the stars."

Good god, the stars. It really had been perfect. Romantic.

Her heart fluttered and she placed her hand over it, as if the soft touch had any power to tame it.

Why couldn't she stop this? Why couldn't she douse this fear before she allowed it to ruined a good thing?

"I still don't-" Rick paused, regathered his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Kate. I'm trying. But I don't see the issue."

Because there wasn't an issue, not a real one anyway. She was fabricating an excuse, something that seemed more reasonable than I'm scared.

And in her silence, he must have pieced together the clues.

Rick sighed a heavy, exasperated sigh. "I'm an idiot."

He turned and began to walk away.

Guilt stabbed uncomfortably between her ribs. Her mind barked orders.

Leave.

Apologise.

Never come back.

Fix this.

It was overwhelming. Confusing. Nauseating.

Suddenly, Rick turned on his heel and strode toward her.

"This is bullshit!" he asserted with a finger pointed to her.

He wasn't shouting, barely even raised his voice, but he wasn't hiding his frustration. She couldn't blame him.

Kate stepped in his direction. "Rick-"

"No, hear me out."

She stopped, let him speak.

"I have done everything you have asked of me. Every step of this has been at your pace because I never wanted you to feel pressured into something you weren't ready for but you have known this whole damn time what I wanted from you, Kate, and it was heavily implied that you wanted that too. You said you needed time: I gave you that. You were the one who told me not to stop trying, you were the one who kissed me at Conrad's party and again as we were leaving Ned's building. Why? Why, if you didn't want this, would you do that?"

Kate shook her head and tried desperately to bury every ounce of emotion that was rising in her throat like bile.

"You don't understand," she whispered.

"But I do," he argued. "I do understand, Kate. I understand that at any point you could have said 'I changed my mind' or 'this is moving too fast' but instead you let it all happen. In fact, you were the propelling force behind all of this. What was your plan, Kate? To lead me on? To hurt me because someone else hurt you?"

"No," she cried.

"Then what?"

She squeezed her eyes shut to keep her tears from falling, shook her head as if that would somehow help.

It didn't.

She felt Rick's hand on her arm. He pulled her in but she resisted, pushed herself away instead.

And regretted it the moment she did.

Rick sighed and let her go.

"I love you, Kate."

And there it was again, the utterance. This time it was said with conviction. Not a slip of the tongue, but a heartfelt confession.

"Push me away if that's what you have to do," he said sadly. "But I know you feel it, too."

Stubborn until her last breath, she looked at him. "Do I?"

But they both knew the truth. She felt it.

"Yes," he shot down her defiance with an unequivocal answer. "It's in your eyes. They scream the words that you're too afraid to say out loud."

She clenched her jaw and shook her head.

No, she couldn't say it out loud. She couldn't even acknowledge it to herself.

She wasn't in love. Love only ever led to one thing.

Heartache.

"Are you done?" she asked with her new, steely composure.

"I guess."

She grabbed her backpack, tossed it over her shoulder. "I should go."

"Yeah. Maybe you should."

Lanie's apartment seemed cold in comparison. Small, dark and cold.

Or maybe it was just lonely. It would be hours before Lanie was home, most likely soon followed by Esposito.

Kate had made the mistake of texting Lanie the general plan: Alexis gone until Wednesday, will possibly stay until then. Lanie had replied with some highly suggestive comment about getting plenty of bed rest, and that she would see her on Wednesday.

So, she had four hours to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why she was back here early.

And why Rick wasn't with her.

And why they'd probably never see him again.

She tossed her backpack onto the couch - she'd deal with that later - and then flopped down beside it.

Everything was still.

Everything was silent.

Everything was too much.

She tucked her feet up underneath her, rested her head against one of the sofa cushions and allowed herself to break. She needed to get it all out before she had to face her friend.

Kate had not long stepped out of the shower when she heard them arrive. She could hear them happily chattering away as they filed into the apartment, one after another.

Lanie, Espo, Ryan and Jenny. Because of course they were all here.

She stood in front of the mirror and studied her reflection. In her pyjama shorts and spaghetti-strap crop, the bruising of her injuries stared back at her angrily but they were nothing compared to the wounds she carried on the inside. Thankfully, the hot shower had helped ease the puffiness of her face after an afternoon of tears but her eyes were still red-rimmed. Maybe, if she said she was just tired...

But Lanie would know. Lanie always knew. Her best friend had the uncanny ability to read her mind, she was sure of it.

"Beckett?" She heard Lanie call out. She must have seen Kate's backpack (still not unpacked) on the couch.

Kate grabbed the sweatshirt she had brought in here - the one she had borrowed from Rick - and pulled it over her head, trying desperately to ignore how pathetic she felt for wearing it. For needing to wear it. But it still smelled like him, and the smell of him comforted her like nothing else could.

She took a deep breath, gave herself a final once over in the mirror and readied herself to face her friends.

When she opened the bathroom door, she was met by four smiling faces. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, a vast difference from the last time they had all been together just days ago, when they had all been forcing smiles in an attempt to push past what had happened.

"How was your sleepover with Writer Boy?" Lanie asked teasingly.

Jenny smiled at her. "We want all the details!"

Kate wanted to laugh with them, to roll her eyes and pretend that she was going to ignore their prying for totally logical reasons. Instead, her eyes began to water and she had to sink her teeth painfully into her bottom lip to stop it's hopeless quivering. Shit, was she really about to cry... again... in front of everyone?

"Sweetie, are you okay?" Lanie asked.

Her friend's soft, nurturing tone of voice tipped her over the edge and Kate let out a watery sounding laugh. She backed up into the bathroom, turned and pushed the door shut to avoid the first tears falling in front of her audience.

But the door never closed behind her.

Lanie pushed her way through, grabbed Kate's arm and pulled on it, forcing her to turn around.

Kate heard the door click shut as she all but fell into Lanie's arms.

"I messed up." The confession came out as a strangled whisper. "I ruined everything."

It took several minutes of Lanie hushing and soothing her, rubbing her hand up and down Kate's spine, but eventually Kate pulled herself together enough to explain to her friend what had happened.

She explained everything.

That first night: the candlelight; Coltrane; the air scents that she had mentioned just once and he remembered; the sex.

She praised him for the next day when he had endured half a day of furniture shopping with her, being so incredibly patient as she ummed and ahhed over the choices. How, when he noticed she was in pain, he ran her a soothing bubble bath and stayed with her as she vented her concerns about the aftermath of the incident. She recalled how he listened so intently to her, how he didn't try to offer her solutions, just an understanding ear.

She talked about the night spent with Alexis; how easy and fun it had been, and how much it hurt her to see Rick so upset for his daughter. And then she unloaded her frustrations about Meredith. Flaky, entitled Meredith. She explained the history there, the sex toy comment that she still didn't really want to think about but knew undoubtedly had contributed in some way to her freak out.

And then she told Lanie about the perfect date, about opening up this secret part of her life for Rick to explore and how it just felt so right for him to be there with her. With new tears in her eyes, she told her friend about how they made love - because yes, apparently now she could admit that that's what it was - under the stars, how he made her feel so safe, so comfortable, so loved.

"Something changed," she concluded. "It's like we were walking back to Rick's car and I just suddenly realised."

"Realised what?" Lanie asked, softly urging her to continue.

Kate wiped the back of her hands across her cheeks to get rid of the last traces of her tears. "That I never meant for any of this to happen. It just... did."

"I thought you wanted a relationship with Rick."

"I did. I do," she corrected herself. "I just- I didn't mean for this to happen yet. We talked about it, he was on board with waiting. But then I just-"

She cut herself off with a heavy sigh.

"You fell for him," Lanie finished for her.

Kate looked down at her hands, watched intently as she twisted an invisible ring on her finger. "He loves me."

Lanie's silence told her everything she needed to know: this was big. And she had royally screwed up.

"And I just ran. I don't even know why I'm running. One minute I'm convinced he's going to be another Adam, that he's going to be the one to hurt me. And then the next I'm terrified that I'm going to hurt him and somehow I feel like I hate that possibility even more. He doesn't deserve that, doesn't deserve someone who is so... fragile. I just feel like, no matter how hard we try, this is going to end in pain."

"Only if you let it," Lanie said sympathetically. "You've got demons, girl. We all do. But we're not supposed to let them win. You've never been one to rush into relationships. This thing that you have with Rick, it's a lot. It's intense and it's moving very quickly for someone such as yourself who is used to always being... let's say cautious. Your heart is still healing, I understand why you're scared to take a risk, but I really don't think Rick has any issue with helping you heal. In fact, I think he's doing a pretty damn good job of it."

A soft knock at the door saved Kate from having to think too hard about her friend's words.

"Beckett?" Ryan said from the other side of the door. "I, uh- I'm sorry to interrupt but, uh, Castle's here."

Kate's mouth went dry and her heart began to race. She wasn't ready for this.

Lanie, apparently, didn't care whether she was ready or not. She reached for the bathroom door and pulled it open.

Ryan looked like a deer caught in the headlights having obviously not expected the door to fly open. He and Lanie stared at one another for a few seconds before Lanie placed her hands on his arms and practically pushed him out of the way. As they moved aside, Rick came into view.

He was standing awkwardly by the couch; Esposito standing by his side with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face: the protective brother she had never had. With a single look, she told Espo to stand down and he did. He moved to stand off tot he side with Lanie and the others, much to Rick's relief.

Kate stepped as far as the bathroom door, but couldn't quite bring herself to cross over that invisible boundary. She felt safe in here.

Rick held up a short, white cord. "You left your phone charger at my place," he said casually.

But Kate knew, without a doubt, that she hadn't. Even in her rush to escape, she had been thorough in making sure she hadn't left anything behind.

That was when she remembered the night he had left his tuxedo jacket hanging over the dining chair, claiming it's better to have an excuse. She'd play along, if that's what he needed. It was the least she could do for him.

"Silly me," she said softly as she stepped out of the bathroom and took the cable from his hand.

He shrugged. "It happens. We slip up sometimes, when we rush things."

His words were laced with double meaning but noticeably lacked accusation. It was almost an apology, like admitting that maybe they had both slipped up.

"I may have freaked out a little bit," she whispered. Another apology that wasn't actually an apology.

"Really?" Rick asked sarcastically. "You hid it so well! I never would have known."

And she smiled.

Damn him and his ability to make her smile.

Rick smiled too, but only for a second before growing serious again. "I shouldn't have pushed."

"You didn't."

"I did something that had you running for the hills," he said with a slight chuckle.

Forced, obviously, but she appreciated him trying to keep it light.

She shook her head. "It's not that simple, Rick. It's nothing you did. I promise."

But they both knew otherwise.

He did do something. He loved her; and he had the gall to actually say it.

Rick stepped forward and cautiously - more cautiously than he had been in weeks - placed his hand on her waist and pulled her just that little bit closer.

She'd be lying if she said his touch and the close proximity didn't instantly make her feel just a little bit better.

"Kate, I understand your concerns, I really do."

"I know you do."

"But I- uh." His voice wavered and he looked down to his feet, almost as if he was trying to hide the disappointment on his face. "This isn't working."

Her heart stopped, she was sure of it. Because it had been beating so hard and so fast that she could feel it in her throat and now, now she felt nothing. She tried to say something, but nothing came out.

She watched as Rick looked over his shoulder; her eyes followed to find her friends so intently listening to them.

As if they had only just realised that maybe this was meant to be a private conversation, they scattered. Not that there was really anywhere for them to go. Lanie herded them into the kitchen, giving Kate and Rick at least the illusion of some modicum of privacy.

Rick turned his attention back to Kate; she returned her focus to him.

"I need more," he admitted. "But if you can't give me that, then I need less."

Kate shook her head, she didn't understand.

"I want to be your friend; I'm not saying it has to be all or nothing," he explained. "But where we are now- I'm sorry, I thought I could but I just can't ignore how I feel about you. I thought that we were on the same page, you know? I felt like you were opening the door to let me in but then the second I got too close you just, you slammed it in my face. I think maybe we both just need a little break."

"A break?"

"Just a few days. I'm headed to Vegas, anyway, so I thought-"

Kate shook her head. "Hold on, what? You're going to Vegas?"

"I got a call from my publicist a few hours ago. There's an opening on Celebrity Hold 'Em with my name on it, apparently."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Celebrity Hold 'Em? It's poker. But for charity. Whoever wins the pot gets to donate the money to a charity of their choice. Anyway, I figured Alexis is with Meredith and, I don't know, maybe a few days of distractions will stop me from going stir-crazy while you do whatever it is you need to do."

Distractions. That felt... heavy, but she didn't want to linger on that feeling for too long.

"O-okay."

"I'll be back in time to help you move, don't worry." Rick cupped her face and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you on the weekend, okay?"

Kate nodded and he left.

Chapter Text

Kate remained stoic as he walked away. Her eyes were fixed to the wall on the other side of the living room; they stayed that way until she heard the click of the door shutting behind him.

Every part of body wanted to rush after him, to throw herself into his arms and tell him that she wanted - no, needed - him on the inside with her: she wouldn't slam that door in his face, not anymore. She wanted to kiss him in a way that would convince him she wasn't a lost cause.

But her mind wouldn't let her.

And so she stayed, feet planted firmly in place, as the man who had helped her heal so much over the past few months walked away.

"Kate?"

Lanie's soft voice tore Kate's focus from the wall. She slowly turned her head toward the kitchen and found sympathetic eyes - four sets of them - staring back at her.

Shit.

Three hours later they were laughing.

Kind of.

Kate was still totally distracted, too consumed by her thoughts of why am I like this? to be able to give her friends her full attention. But she tried. And, for short bursts of time, she succeeded. Enough to know when to laugh, at least.

Her phone - still on the couch, where she had deserted it in favour of a long, hot shower - chimed. Once, twice, three times in succession. She rose from her spot at the dining table - where they were all still sitting after dinner, talking about anything and everything - and walked toward the latest source of her distraction.

Three messages from Rick.

The first was short, to the point.

Headed to the airport now.

The second message had a file attached. She clicked on the blue link, which opened a shared file: an itinerary. The flight to Vegas, accommodation details, the times he was needed for the appearances his publicist had scheduled for his 60-odd hours in Sin City, and the details for this flight back home.

9pm Friday night he would be back in the city; it seemed like forever away.

The third message was more... hopeful.

Assuming the plan for moving day is the same, I'll be at your apartment first thing Saturday morning. I know it will be a busy weekend for you but if you could somehow find some time for us to talk privately, sooner rather than later, I think that would be for the best. Paula has me booked pretty solid for the next few days so I don't know how available I'll be. I just wanted to make sure you know that, if you don't hear from me, it's not because I'm avoiding you or anything. Just giving you time.

His reassurances were exactly that: reassuring. She needed that, more than she knew.

She typed out her reply.

Will definitely find time for us. I hope your trip isn't all business and you get to have some fun, too-

Not too much fun, though. But she wouldn't say that. No, that was a thought she would keep to herself. She hit send, backed out of the messages app and went to toss her phone back onto the couch.

Her fingers wouldn't release their grip on the device, however.

She hesitated, then opened up her messages again. She typed out another quick message, hit send before she had a chance to reconsider, a chance to change her mind. It didn't exactly align with the notion of taking a break, but she wanted him to know that - despite her actions - she didn't want to run from this.

I'm sorry. Please don't give up on me just yet.

It wasn't the first time she'd asked him not to give up. The last time they were here, he had said he wouldn't.

So much had changed since that night.

The next few days seemed to drag on endlessly.

With everyone else at work, Kate had nothing to do but lounge around Lanie's apartment and wait. The hours felt like days, days felt like a lifetime.

On Wednesday she had met up with her dad for Lunch. He was distracted, shuffling through paperwork at his desk as the nicoise salad Kate had brought for him sat untouched on the corner of his desk. To anyone else it would have looked as though the man had been ignoring his daughter, too busy to give her the attention she deserved after trekking across town with a meal for him but she knew better. She worked in a very similar way to her father, had the same ability to split her focus effectively. He may have kept his eyes glued to his forms, he may have barely touched his lunch, but she didn't feel unwelcome at all. He listened as she spoke, responded verbally as needed but mostly just nodded his head to signify that he was listening and, when she invited him to come to her new place for dinner on Sunday night, he replied with an enthusiastic I'd love to!

She knew that, despite being busy, he appreciated her company. She knew that his lunch would - sooner or later - get eaten, and when he did have five minutes to stop and enjoy it, he would be thankful that she had brought it by. As far as unplanned visits went, this one was nice. After almost an hour, she stood and said her goodbyes. When she rounded her father's desk, placed her hand on his shoulder and told him she loved him, he made sure to tear his eyes away from his work and give her his undivided attention.

"I love you too, Katie," he said with a smile. His eyes darted to his salad. "Thank you for lunch. I'll enjoy it, I'm sure." She dropped a kiss to his head and he continued. "Tell Rick I look forward to seeing him at dinner."

For a second she thought perhaps he hadn't been quite as successful with the split focus as she had given him credit for, but then he looked up at her with a smirk.

"I'm sure you will have come to your senses by then."

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't count on it, Dad."

She laughed, as if she was joking with her old man. But the truth of the matter was, she wasn't entirely confident it would be that easy. Yes, she had come to her senses. But would Rick be able to forgive that easily?

That doubt led her into the early hours of Thursday morning, tossing and turning all night as her insecurities invaded her dreams. She woke as Lanie was leaving for work, feeling as though she hadn't slept a wink.

She pulled herself from the couch, rolled down the blinds to block the sunlight that streamed through the kitchen and dining room windows, then tucked herself back under the blanket.

She slept, on and off, until Lanie returned home that evening.

"Have you even moved today?" Lanie asked as she pulled the blanket from over Kate's head.

Kate groaned, gripped the blanket and tried to pull it back over her face but her friend wouldn't release the vice grip she had on the fluffy fabric.

"Kate," she whined. "This isn't like you. Get up."

"I had a rough night," she complained.

"And you've slept all day, by the look of it!" Lanie walked toward her bedroom, tossed her bag onto her bed before returning her attention back to her friend to administer a large dose of tough love. "Get over yourself, girl. I've had a long day at work. I'm going to shower and when I get out I either want to smell something delicious cooking for dinner, or to see you've got wine, chocolate and a movie ready for me to unwind. Your choice."

Kate groaned, again, and pulled herself off of the couch. As good as wine, chocolate and a movie sounded; she hadn't eaten all day.

And Lanie was right, she needed to pull herself out of this funk.

On Friday morning, she started off on the right foot. She received a text from Ned telling her that the apartment had been emptied, cleaned and that the security system had been completely wiped.

Feel free to pop in at any time to set it up how you want it, he had said. The door man (his name is Theodore but we all call him Teddy) will be able to get you in touch with security. They'll show you everything you need to know, just give him a call before you head over.

Seeing as she had nothing better to do, she called the building's lobby just after 9:15am. Theodore - Teddy - seemed lovely. He told her that she could come in whenever she was ready; she told him she would be there within the hour.

Building security - Bruiser, according to his name badge, but Kate was unsure if that was his actual name or a nickname - had taken her up to the apartment and helped her set up her fingerprint scan and security code for the front door lock. Then, he led her back down to the lobby and into a small room off to the side where she sat patiently as he coded a key fob for her.

"How many do you want?" he asked. "One for yourself, obviously, as you'll need it to access the elevators and the rooftop. If you want, I can also code them to grant access to the apartment. We do, however, advise you give away these fobs sparingly," he droned, as if reciting some script.

He went through this with every tenant, she supposed.

"Right." This was all a little high tech for Kate, but she supposed this was the result of some tech guru owning the place. "Can I get two spares, please? Both with access to the apartment."

One for her father: ever since she moved into her very first apartment, she had always made sure her father had a key for emergencies. She wasn't really sure what emergency would require him to have access to her home and, as far as she was aware, he had never actually used any of the keys he had been given over the years. Still, it seemed almost a tradition at this point, one she wasn't about to end now.

The second... well, that was an impulsive decision but one that felt so right. This fob would be for Rick, should he accept it. She knew that - knowing herself as well as she did - she probably wouldn't be gifting him this key any time soon. Still, the act or acquiring it for him was enough to solidify this in her mind. She wasn't just ready to let him pass through this metaphorical door, she was ready to give him full access to come and go as he pleases, ready to trust that he won't want to go.

She had even managed to shut down that voice in the back of her mind that told her he would never want to stay, that the hope she felt was misguided.

Temporarily, of course. Because this was the real world and, in the real world, Kate wasn't one to romanticise.

She was incredulous by nature, at best. An outright cynic at her worst.

And now - on Saturday morning, as Lanie drove them over to her new apartment - the small, round key fob that rested in her open palm seemed to stare back at her, taunting her. What a stupid symbol of hope. What a foolishly naive idea.

What had felt so right now felt so, so terrifying.

She hadn't heard from him in days; not since her text to not give up on her had gone unacknowledged. He had warned her that he would be busy, that he wouldn't be readily available to talk over the few days he was gone. But, really, how busy could he have been to not be able to send one single, simple reply? And, according to the itinerary he had sent her, his flight had landed earlier than scheduled last night. He had been back in the city, free of any and all obligations, for almost 12 hours now. Still, nothing.

"You're fidgety," Lanie commented as she stared out the windscreen, watching the traffic ahead of her intently. "It's distracting."

"Sorry," Kate muttered.

"You okay?"

"Just... exhausted already," Kate offered the semi-truthful explanation. "I hate moving."

And, even more than she hated moving, she hated the idea that her friends would be the ones doing most of the work for her. She could still barely support the weight of a dinner plate with her wrist, there was no way she could move furniture and boxes without aggravating her injury.

"So, it has nothing to do with Writer Boy?" Lanie asked with a smirk.

Kate shook her head, but Lanie knew. "Maybe a little," she relented.

"Maybe you should have this conversation with him before we're all there, killing the vibe."

Kate shook her head again. "I have two days to get everything sorted before I'm back at work. Once I'm back at work, I'm going to lose all motivation and I'll have boxes scattered everywhere for months. No, the conversation with Rick can wait, if need be."

Lanie rolled her eyes. "Your priorities are always so..."

"Practical?" Kate finished for her.

Lanie shook her head. "No. Boring."

Kate scoffed, but her friend continued before she could argue.

"If I were you, I'd want to be pinned against the wall and absolutely ravished by my man before I even thought about moving in the furniture."

"Yeah, well, not everyone is always thinking about sex," she grumbled back. She ignored the he's not my man comments that swirled in her mind, the fact that she just couldn't bring herself to share Lanie's optimism that their reunion today would be so easy.

Lanie chuckled. "You're your own worst enemy, Kate Beckett."

That, she already knew.

"It's going to be fine," Lanie assured her; her tone much softer, less teasing than it had been just a moment ago. "Have a little faith. The guy is mad about you. Just show him that you're mad about him, too."

Kate looked back down to the key fob in her hand. "Easier said than done."

But, as Lanie had told her just a few days ago, everyone has demons... you're not supposed to let them win. And Kate was determined not to lets hers win. A key was a big gesture, one she might not have been fully ready for just yet but she knew there were smaller steps she could take as she worked her way toward being ready.

Step one sat in a plastic bag at her feet.

They entered the building's lobby and Kate scanned the room for the man who had promised to meet her there, disappointed when she couldn't find him.

"Good morning, Miss Beckett," Teddy greeted as he approached, a bright smile on his face.

Kate swallowed her disappointment and smiled at the man. "Morning, Teddy. And, I told you, you can call me Kate."

"Kate," the man repeated, as if locking the request to use her first name into his mind. "I hope you don't mind, but we moved a delivery into your apartment for you. I just wasn't sure when to expect you today and, given your injury-" He glanced down at her wrist, then back up to her eyes. "I figured you shouldn't be trying to drag that thing inside anyway."

"Delivery?"

"From Mister Castle," he explained.

"Thank you, Teddy."

Kate looked at Lanie and tilted her head toward the elevator.

Lanie was speechless as they stepped inside of the apartment. She looked around the large, open space with wide, awe-filled eyes.

"Kate," she said on a sigh. She moved toward the wall-to-floor windows that looked out over the river. "This place is gorgeous."

"Isn't it?" Kate agreed, distractedly.

Her eyes scanned the empty loft apartment, in search of the delivery Teddy had mentioned, but she found nothing.

She stepped out of the doorway and closed the door - and there it was, hidden behind the now-gone barricade of the front door: the large, faux fiddle-leaf fig she had deemed unnecessary when they spotted it whilst furniture shopping. Rick hadn't known that she had added it to her mental wish list, vowing to come back for it sooner or later. Or, perhaps he had known. At the base of the plant, in the decorative black pot, was a crisp white envelope.

A house without plants isn't a home... or something like that anyway, I don't really know. I saw you looking at this and figured it would look good next to your ugly console table. Consider it a house-warming gift.

She smiled at his words but as she continued to read the rest of the note, disappointment bubbled in her stomach and rose up to her throat, her smile faded.

"What's wrong?" Lanie asked. She must have finally pulled her attention away from the view outside.

Kate tore her eyes away from the note in her hand, looked at her friend. "He's not coming."

It was a case of divide and conquer.

Kate had organised for her furniture to be delivered first thing this morning. Delivery, however, did not include getting said pieces from the loading dock up to her apartment. Cue team alpha: the boys. They had volunteered to be on heavy-lifting duty, bringing the pieces one-by-one up to her new home.

Team Diva - named in jest by Lanie, mocking Esposito's team alpha, but somehow the name just stuck - were on Adam duty. Kate needed someone to meet the removalists at her old place, to make sure all of her belongings were loaded and removed from the house with no issues. Not that she had expected anything to go wrong, but she had always lived by the motto of better safe than sorry. A part of her thought that she should have handled this task herself, but she just couldn't bring herself to see her ex again, to see him and his ex-wife playing happy family in what used to be her home. Lanie volunteered to take her place, promising to be on her best behaviour.

As much as she knew Lanie would love to give the guy a piece of her mind, Kate trusted that she wouldn't stir anything up. Still, she sent Jenny to go with.

Cool, uncaring, disconnected: that was their game-plan. The message they were sending? Kate doesn't care. So what if it were a little white lie?

That left team useless, Kate and her injured self, to stay behind and twiddle her thumbs until she had some lighter duties to do. The waiting wasn't good for her, not with her mind in the current state of chaos that it was in.

I ruined it.

He hates me.

It's all my fault.

The thoughts were pathetic, melodramatic, and she knew it but she couldn't seem to hush the noise in her mind. He had missed his flight, apparently. And couldn't get another one until tomorrow, apparently.

But to that voice in the back of her mind, it sounded like excuses.

There will be a new excuse tomorrow, that voice declared so boldly. And then another, and then another. He doesn't want to see you.

She grabbed the plastic bag - the one she had dumped on the kitchen bench after learning that Rick wouldn't be joining them today, the one that contained step one of showing him that she was committed to this, to them - and marched upstairs to tuck away somewhere where she didn't have to stare at it all day long. Because, if she had to keep looking at it, she was only going to continue to spiral.

As her furniture was brought in, she unwrapped it from it's protective plastic wrapping and - if it was light enough - shift it into place, setting everything up exactly how she wanted it. When team Diva arrived with boxes of her belongings, she got to work unpacking everything. She worked out some of her anger and frustration through the tearing of tape and popping of bubble wrap. It wasn't enough.

Throughout the day her friends had picked up on her morose and tried to lift her spirits in their own special kind of way: with playful jibes and light-hearted teasing about her lack of contribution to the days efforts.

That's right, you just sit there and play with your little knick-knacks, we've got the shelves. Or a, where would you like the couch, your highness?

She knew that they were joking with her, that they knew that she appreciated their help (help that they were happy to give) but it didn't ease her frustrations at how much she was having to rely on other people lately. She just couldn't get out of this negative head space; she had to shake it off.

"Pizza for dinner?" she asked as the day was finally coming to an end.

The sun was low in the sky, preparing to set, and her friends were fighting the fatigue from a long day. After they ordered the pizza, the group settled around the dining table with beers and wine while Kate continued to unpack bits and bobs from the boxes scattered around the place until she received notification that their dinner had arrived.

"I'll get it," Lanie declared, waving her hands dismissively at Kate. "You seem like you're on a roll, keep it up for another five minutes!"

Esposito rose from his seat and walked with his girlfriend toward the door. "Besides, you're probably too exhausted to carry it back up anyway," he said with a smirk. "You know, after all the heavy lifting you did today."

Kate grabbed a decorative pillow from the couch and tossed it at him. Her wrist ached as if to prove his point, but she would never let him know that. She went back to sorting through boxes: stuff to donate, stuff for storage, stuff to unpack. She was so rapidly losing motivation; all of these looked like impossible tasks right now. To the side, she found a smaller box labelled bathroom.

"I'm just gonna-" She held the box to her chest and tilted her head toward the bathroom. Ryan and Jenny nodded, understanding what she was saying before she even said it. "I'll just be a minute, sorry."

She walked into the bathroom and dumped the box on the vanity counter, opened the cupboard doors beneath and began to unpack the items from the box: a hair dryer; straightening iron; half-empty bottles of shampoo, conditioner and other products; combs; brushes; ties, bands and bobby pins. She had survived these last few months without this stuff; she considered the fact that she could probably get rid of at least half of it, saver herself some space. Still, she tucked it all away neatly in the cupboard: she'd deal with what she did and didn't actually need another day.

"In the bathroom," she heard Ryan's voice from the other side of the wall that separated the kitchen from the bathroom. She assumed that Lanie and Espo were back with the pizza.

"Yo, Beckett!" Espo's voice thundered cheerfully. "Got a surprise for you, hurry up!"

"Just unpacking," she called back to him. "I'll be two minutes, just start without me."

"Is this a bad time?"

She stopped pulling items from the box and looked over her shoulder, toward the opened bathroom door, but she couldn't see anything. Surely she was mistaken but... that didn't sound like Esposito's voice. She pulled herself to her feet and slowly moved toward the door.

"Look who we found lurking in the lobby," Lanie said with an enthusiastic smile before promptly removing herself, dragging Esposito and the pizza to the kitchen.

Rick stood by her front door, jacket draped over one arm and a shy smile on his face.

"I thought you might still need my help," he said with a shrug.

Kate walked toward him, drawn to him. She needed to be close to him, closer than she was now, anyway.

"I thought you couldn't get a flight."

"The lady at the kiosk was a fan, I think," he said shyly. "She bumped me up on the standby list and said so long as I'm at the airport and ready to go at a moments notice, she could get me on a flight if someone missed their check-in. So, I camped out. Just landed-" He smiled at her. "Came straight here from the airport."

Suddenly, all of her doubted seemed so foolish. She rushed forward, closed the last few feet of distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. His arms closed around her and for the first time in days, she felt a little less lost.

"I've missed you," she whispered into the fabric of his shirt.

His arms tightened around her. "I missed you, too."

"I thought you were mad at me," she confessed. "Thought you were making excuses to avoid me."

Rick pulled back, curled his finger under her chin and tilted her head up so that she could see his perplexed expression.

"I have spent the last few days forcing myself not to bombard you with calls and texts so that I didn't scare you away: why on Earth would I be coming up with excuses to stay away even longer?"

Kate shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She lifted herself onto tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. His hands found their way to her hair but she had already begun to pull back.

"Uh-uh." He shook his head. "One more."

With a smile, she leant back in and he kissed her.

Short and sweet; an affirmation that they were okay.

Chapter Text

One thing Kate could always count on was Lanie's uncanny ability to know exactly what was going on in this messy mind of hers.

Rick was here, by her side. Not mad, not upset, not telling her that she had ruined everything by running. He had camped out for her, spent the night curled up on those horribly uncomfortable airport chairs for her. Sure enough, Esposito had found a picture that someone had taken and shared online for all to see. The sight of Rick leaning his head back uncomfortably and using his jacket as a blanket made her throat feel drier than the Sahara and her eyes prickled with the threat of tears. Her heart had been pounding erratically ever since and she was certain she couldn't bring herself to speak actual words even if she had tried.

That was why she ate her pizza in silence. Well, the several small bites she managed were nibbled in silence. Because he was here, and she didn't want to say something stupid and risk ruining it again.

The rest of her friends seemed utterly uneffected by her silence. They happily chattered away as they devoured the greasy slices of dinner. They asked about Rick's trip, about his poker game and what else he got up to while visiting Sin City. He kept his answers short, simple: he missed home. He asked Ryan and Jenny about the wedding planning: asked if Jenny was still having issues with her sister; asked if Ryan was still stressing about it all and then told the frazzled groom-to-be the moment you turn and see that beautiful woman walking down that aisle, looking at you like no one else in that room even exists, nothing else will even matter. As he spoke the words, his hand - that had been resting on her hip throughout dinner - gave her a gentle squeeze and a kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight within her.

Oh God, she was going to burst. Into a fit of laughter or a sobbing mess on the floor; that was the only question.

Kate looked across her dining table to see Lanie watching her intently, a smirk on her face and knowing eyes.

"Thanks for dinner, girl," Lanie said as soon as there was a lull in conversation. "We should be going."

Kate practically jumped out of her seat. "I really appreciate your help today," she said genuinely. She looked to her friends, who were looking up at her with soft smiles. "All of you. I'm pretty much useless right now; I wouldn't have been able to do it without you guys so I really do appreciate you all showing up for me."

"That's what partners are for," Ryan said as he stood. Once he was closer to Kate he lowered his voice a little and said, "Besides, couldn't have you injuring yourself again. I don't think I could deal with another two weeks of just this guy." He pointed a thumb in Espo's direction.

Espo shot back a glare in return and Kate brought her hand to her mouth, hiding her smile.

She'd missed her boys, she couldn't wait to be back at work.

But right now she needed them gone.

She needed to be alone with Rick: to hold him, to breathe him in; to talk and to not talk. There was too much nervous energy coursing through her body; she needed to get rid of it somehow.

"Do you need us to come back tomorrow and help unpack these last few boxes?" Jenny asked as the five of them moved toward Kate's front door.

Kate shook her head. "I think I'm good from here, thank you."

"Okay, just give us a call if you need." Ryan waved goodbye and then grabbed his fiance's hand and led her toward the elevator.

"Yo!" Esposito called out to his partner. "Wait for us."

Lanie gave Kate a hug before following her boyfriend. "Have fun," she sung over her shoulder as she walked away.

Kate shut the door, turned around to face the one person left in her apartment. Rick was already keeping himself busy - and making himself at home - tidying up the aftermath of their dinner. Leftovers condensed to one pizza box and tucked away in the fridge; scraps, napkins and other rubbish in the trash. She tucked her hands behind her back and leant against the door as she watched him dampen a cloth and wipe down the table. She certainly could get used to the sight.

Finally, he noticed her staring and smiled as he looked up to meet her eyes. "Everything okay?"

He walked back to the kitchen, tossed the cloth into the sink and then dried his hands on the hand towel.

"I'm fine," she answered as she pushed herself off from the door.

"You seem deep in thought," he commented. He started to walk toward her.

"Just tired."

Rick shook his head. "Uh-uh, we've been here before and I don't know about you but I really didn't like where that led us."

He smiled, chuckled a little at the words he hoped she would take as a joke, but she felt the mistrust that lingered between them. She hated that; hated that he now doubted her as much as she sometimes doubted herself. So, no, she wouldn't laugh at his joke. She wouldn't let him laugh it off and make this easier for her.

He deserved better than that.

She screwed up. The least she could do was own it.

"I'm just really glad you came back," she said softly, now that he stood close enough to hear her words without her having to project them.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" he asked her.

She looked into his eyes; ocean blue and dangerously alluring. She shrugged, tried to act nonchalant but the knowledge that she was most definitely going to ruin this sat so heavily in her heart that she sometimes found it hard to breathe.

"I wouldn't have blamed you," she whispered shakily.

Rick closed the space between them, curled his palm around the back of her neck and looked so deeply into her eyes. His thumb brushed along her jaw.

"Kate-"

But she silenced his words with the shake of her head. "I am so sorry."

"You already apologised."

"And it's not enough," she declared.

It would never be enough.

She brought her hand to her cheek, stopped the motion of his thumb as she curled her fingers around it. Then, she turned her head and pressed her lips to the pad of his thumb, to the palm of his hand.

Rick pulled her forward and slanted his mouth over hers; she kissed him back with purpose. She wanted to pour all of the emotion she had felt over these past few days; all of the longing, all of the desire, all of the regret and sorrow and anguish. Her words would never be enough to adequately express how sorry she was; she wanted him to feel it, to trust it.

Kate took a small step back, let their joined hands drop between them before she laced her fingers through Rick's and led him upstairs to the bedroom. Without a word, he followed her. Once at the top of the stairs, she turned to face him and kept her eyes on him as she walked backward toward her bed.

In the dark, his eyes remained fixed on hers. The light from below them filtered softly through the partition that blocked her bedroom off from the rest of the apartment. It cast shadows across her face but added a little extra glitter to her already sparkling eyes. The writer within him - the curious nature that he rarely denied - ached to take in their surroundings, to study this space that was so intimately her, but he couldn't tear his eyes from hers even if he tried.

She stopped when her heels hit the base of her bed, and he took one more small step closer until their bodies were pressed together. His hands found their place on her hips and she looped her arms around his neck, holding herself closer to him.

"We need to talk," he said. His voice was gruff, thick with desire and his eyes dropped to her lips.

"We will," she promised.

Her hands snaked over his shoulders and down his chest until her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and began to expertly pop them open. He brought his hands up, placed them over hers to still her movements.

"I can't do this until I know," he warned. He closed his eyes and took one slow, steady breath before opening them again. "I need to know you're not going to run again."

Kate shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere, Rick."

He had told himself, again and again, that he had to be strong.

Don't let her off too easy.

She owes you an explanation.

She'll walk all over you if you let her.

But there was a sincerity in her voice that he just couldn't deny. He had seen it on her face when he had told her that he thought they needed a break: she was just as scared of losing this as he was. And, since his arrival home just hours ago, she had barely left his side: she had missed him. Maybe even as much as he had missed her.

It may have made him naive - it may have made him an outright idiot - but he trusted her.

And he wanted her.

His lips were on hers in an instant, greedy for her: her touch and her taste, her body on his. He needed it all, needed her.

Her nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt with ease. She pressed her hands to his bare chest, smoothed her palms across the breadth of shoulders and stripped off his shirt. As soon as he was freed from the material, he gripped at the hem of her shirt and pulled away from her just enough to lift the soft cotton over her head.

He rushed back to her as the material dropped between them. His lips ghosted along her neck and she tilted her head back to grant him better access. Her fingertips dug into his back as he worked to turn her breathy sighs into satisfied moans. He nipped at her pulse point before soothing the spot with the gentle lave of his tongue, and was rewarded by a long, low moan that only encouraged him further. His fingers combed through her hair and brought her lips back to his. His kiss was a little rough but she didn't care; they were both too desperate for connection to be tender right now.

She felt his hands on her; they seemed to be everywhere at once - her back, her hips, her hair - as he pulled her closer and pressed his body to hers, stoking the fire within. She reached for his pants, undid his belt and zip before impatiently pulling them from his hips. They dropped to the floor and he stepped out of them, kicking them aside. As soon as they were out of the way, his hands ghosted down her sides: she shivered at the delicateness of his touch.

It changed everything: they way they kissed; the way they touched; the way they moved. It all slowed down. It was like they both suddenly realised that there was no need to rush, like time had stopped just for them.

Rick pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes. He moulded his palm to the side of her face, traced his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip.

"I missed you," he whispered.

Kate smiled and her grip on his forearm tightened almost imperceptibly. "I missed you, too."

But her smile faltered and faded away as her eyes fluttered shut and she shook her head slightly. Just three days, and she had missed him so much her stomach churned at the memories of those long, lonely few days with no work to keep her mind occupied.

God, when had she become so dependant on his company? As if he had always just been there; as if going weeks at a time without seeing each other hadn't been the norm for this relationship thus far: his touring, her working. She'd spent four nights with him and that, apparently, was enough to change everything for her.

She'd always had trouble trusting in those quick changes, though.

Adam was a quick change. He came out of nowhere, told her she could depend on him and then he was gone again in a flash.

Rick leaned in and brushed his lips against her uncovered cheek. "It's okay," he assured her. Then she felt his thumb swipe underneath her eye and damn it she was crying. "You can talk to me, Kate."

She shook her head. "I just don't want to mess this up," she confessed.

"Then don't."

She pulled away, looked up at his bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through all of her defences. "It's not that easy."

"Why not?"

Kate shook her head, opened her mouth but no words would come out.

"You can tell me anything," he said softly. "You know that, right?"

She nodded without even thinking about it because she did know that. From the moment she had met him, she had felt safe enough to talk to him. She had opened up to him about things she would usually keep locked away for months, years even. But she didn't want to tell him the things she knew he wouldn't want to hear, the things that might hurt him.

"I don't think I'm good enough for you." She blurted the admission.

Rick frowned. "What?"

"You've been divorced twice," she stated. "Heartbroken god knows how many times. And yet you love like you've never been hurt before. I can't do that."

"I'm not asking you to," he reminded her.

Kate shook her head and rushed to close the small amount of space they had created between themselves. She framed his face with her hands and soothed her thumbs over his cheekbones.

"I know," she assured him. "I know you're not. But you deserve someone who can."

"I want you," he said firmly.

His frustration was obvious; he thought she was trying to tell him she couldn't be that person for him - even after her assurance that she wasn't going anywhere - and it was evident that he vehemently objected to that notion. His defiance worked to boost her confidence, encouraged her to push through.

"I want to be that person," she corrected his assumption with a smile. "I wish that I was that person right now but I'm just not there yet. I mean-" She took a slow, steady breath. "I wanted everything with him. We were talking marriage and babies just hours before I- before I found out."

The break in her voice shattered his heart. He reached for her, wrapped his arms around her body as if that could protect her from the heartache she had already endured.

"My whole world changed for him and I just- I thought I'd have time to find myself again before I felt even remotely close to-" To falling in love again. But she couldn't bring herself to say the words aloud. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay." He held her tighter as he buried the anger he felt toward the man who had promised her the world with no intentions of giving it to her.

Kate wrapped her arms around Rick and pressed her cheek to his chest. "You make me happy, Rick."

To her, that didn't seem like nearly enough. But to Rick, those words were everything.

"Just... promise me one thing?"

She pulled back to look up at him. "Anything."

"Keep talking to me. I understanding wanting to hold back a little bit but... doesn't it feel better to get it off your chest?"

Kate nodded. "It does. But-" she waited for his attention to pique. "I don't want to hold back."

"No?"

"I think it's inevitable that I'm going to freak out again," she warned him. These insecurities weren't going to be an overnight fix, after all. But that didn't mean she could wade in the swallow water, right? "I thought that keeping you at an arms length would help me feel a little more..."

"In control of your feelings?" Rick answered with a smirk when she hesitated.

She smiled. "Yeah. But that obviously didn't work so... maybe we could try this a little differently?"

"I think I'd like that."

Kate stepped to the side and Rick reluctantly dropped his arms, watching as she moved toward her dresser drawers. She opened the top, right drawer and then looked back at him with a soft smile on her face.

He walked over to join her. When he looked into the drawer, it was practically empty. The only items inside of it were the jumper he had leant Kate - the one she had been wearing the other night, that made him want to call Paula and tell her that there was no way he could possibly leave when it had been so obvious that the woman he loved had been crying and (whether she wanted to admit it or not) needed him to comfort her - and a white plastic bag.

"What's this?"

"This is me... not holding back," she said.

Rick narrowed his eyes as he tried to study her face for answers. His mind could run off with a million theories on what she was trying to tell him right now but there was a very good chance that he - once again - was a few steps ahead of Kate. He hooked a finger over the drawer to the left and tugged it open slightly: it was full. He did the same to the second drawer on the right: full. This one had been purposely kept empty.

"For me?" he asked cautiously.

"If you want it," she answered, just as cautious.

He hovered his hand over the plastic bag. "Is this for me, too?"

Kate nodded. "I thought you might need it."

Taking that as permission to open it, he pulled the bag from the draw and peeked inside. Shampoo and conditioner; his favourite body wash; a comb; razors; deodorant. A practical gift, really. Something that could have been shrugged off as being for efficiency or convenience, but he knew it meant more than that.

She wanted him here, wanted to share her space and make sure he knew he was a welcome guest in her home.

"You didn't have to do this," was the first words he managed to actually get out. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"I wanted to." Kate wrapped her arm around Rick's and rested her head against his bicep. "I really enjoyed staying with you and I was hoping that, now that I'm no longer couch surfing, maybe you'd want to stay here with me sometimes."

"Sometimes?" He scoffed. "Good luck getting rid of me now!"

He tossed the bag back into the drawer then turned, pulled her closer and kissed her deeply for just a few seconds. Then, he pulled away.

"Except, you know, I have a daughter that I can't really just abandon."

Kate laughed. "And I work night shift sometimes."

"And then there's the inevitable freak outs when you're probably going to want a little space," he added with a smirk.

She shook her head and pressed her lips into a tight line. But if she were to be honest with herself, she was glad he could joke about it. If reassured her that, so long as she was able to keep talking to him, this thing they were building together might actually weather the storm of her mind.

"Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?"

She slipped her hand into the plastic bag and felt around for the box she knew was in there somewhere. When she found it, she pulled it out and looked at Rick suggestively.

"I find myself in a very giving mood," she told him before walking back to the end of her bed. "Maybe you should come take full advantage of that."

Rick prowled toward her, shook his head. "No."

"No?"

He curved his palm around the back of her neck and took the box of condoms from her with the other. Then he closed his mouth over her throat, felt the flutter of her pulse against his tongue as he pressed it to her skin.

"You already gave me something," he whispered in her ear. "Now it's my turn."

He had expected her usual, dominating self to deny him. Maybe even a hesitant compromise with "me first". So, when the moan that escaped her sounded suspiciously like an enthusiastic yes, he was momentarily stunned. He pulled back so that he could see her face, to make sure he hadn't misheard.

She was so beautiful, smiling up at him with those bright, dazzling eyes of hers. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and he realised that, no, he hadn't misheard. She was waiting for him to take the lead, giving herself to him fully; relinquishing the control she always grasped to so tight.

She trusted him.

She wasn't holding back.

He held her waist as he moved them onto the bed. She sunk into the mattress as he settled his weight on between her thighs. He kissed her, slow and thorough, setting the pace for what was to come. He knew that she would usually keep things playful, fast, but that night in the pickup - when they slowed down, really allowed themselves to get lost in one another - well, he just couldn't get that night out of his mind.

If it was too much for her, if she needed to stop then he would, of course. But he wanted to make love to her, wanted to show her that she could let go, and feel things, and still have fun. He wanted to be the one to show her that trusting someone - trusting him - to know what she liked, to read her body's cues and give her exactly what she desired could be the best damn thing she might ever do.

He broke away from her lips and trailed slow, wet kisses all the way from her jaw down to her navel before he pulled himself to his knees. He smiled down at her; he could stare at her forever. It did something to him - to his heart, to his soul - every time he saw her like this: exposed; vulnerable; looking up at him with eyes shining, equal parts lust and adoration. But right now, it was obvious she wasn't trying to contain that emotion as much: the adoration.

He loved this. He loved her.

He flicked open the button of her jeans and pulled the denim from her hips. She shifted to assist and, when he finally got the tight material over her ankles and tossed it away, she giggled at his enthusiasm. But her giggles came to abrupt end when he dropped his mouth to hers, silenced her with the slow dance of his tongue.

Rick savoured each sigh, each moan, each involuntary shiver as his hands skated over her skin. It was all so very intoxicating.

Kate's leg wrapped around his waist, her ankle hooked behind his thigh in a move he recognised. He smiled against her lips as he waited and, sure enough, he pulled him closer and lifted her hips to meet his.

But just as quickly as she had tried to take control, she gave it up again. She dropped her foot to the mattress with a sighed oh.

Rick chuckled against her lips, dropped his forehead against hers. "You were doing so well," he teased.

She brushed her lips along the stubble on his cheek, buying herself a beat or two to catch her breath. "I'm sor-"

He smothered her words with his kiss; quick and bruising and gone too soon.

"Stop apologising to me, Kate," he ordered. He slipped his hand beneath her and she arched her back to ease his quest to unclasp her bra. "I know you're sorry."

He slipped the straps of her bra down her arms and tossed it aside to join her jeans, wherever they had landed. Then he dipped his head, teased her with his tongue. He left a wet trail of kisses across her chest when he moved his focus to her other breast, gave it the same attention until he had drawn out the most delicious sounds from her.

She whimpered as he released her from his mouth, watched as he pressed kisses to her torso that were as delicate as butterfly wings. His eyes met hers and she could see his lips curve into a smile as they pressed against her skin. Her heart fluttered and heat washed over her. She wanted him, all of him, now. But he wasn't ready to give in to her just yet. He hooked his fingers over the band of her underwear and slowly pulled them down her thighs, following their path with his kiss. Once the garment was gone he moved back up her body, peppering the opposite leg - from her ankle, to her calf, to the inside of her knee - with butterfly kisses.

In the mood to tease, he paid attention to all the sensitive spots he had learned over their nights together: her thighs, her hipbones, just underneath her navel. He nipped and licked and sucked until she squirmed beneath him, almost crawling out of her skin with anticipation.

He smiled at the thought, loved the fact that it must be driving her wild trying to keep herself from grabbing a fist full of his hair and guiding him exactly where she so desperately wanted him.

"You're so slow," she whined, as if she could read his mind. But she was breathless, her voice dripping with desire. "Are you enjoying torturing me?" she asked.

She already knew the answer, though. They both did.

"I am, actually," he answered with a chuckle.

Kate combed her fingers through his hair, from front to back, and then fisted her hand in an act of defiance. But she waited.

"You want me... here?" Rick asked before dipping his head to press a gentle kiss to her right thigh.

Kate shook her head.

"Here?" he asked again, this time pressing a gentle kiss to her left thigh.

She shook her head again, but smiled because he was getting closer. So close.

"Here?"

His lips ghosted over her core and the warmth of his exhaled breath skirted across her skin. Goosebumps erupted across her body and she let out a shaky sigh; her eyes fluttered shut. He hummed as he closed his mouth over her, tasted her need for him. The soft vibrations had her bowing off the bed, gripping the covers beside her. "Yes."

Good lord, she had him trained so well already.

The way he waited for her, pressed gentle kisses against her skin as she came down from her high, awaiting her next instructions; it would be easy to convince herself he was subservient by nature. But she knew better than that. She could tell, from that very first night, that he was just as dominating as she. She had assumed that it would become an issue if they even attempted anything more permanent but - as if it were his sole purpose in life - he had proven her wrong.

That was how it worked with her, though. Men either yielded, or they walked.

I don't submit.

Yet, here she was.

Rick had her hands pinned above her head, his fingers laced through hers. He surrounded her in every way: the scent of his cologne; the heat of his body; the sounds of his desire; all working together to overwhelm her, to heighten her, to undo her completely. Each kiss was short, their desperation making them messy and unable to focus on anything other than the way their bodies moved together, the way it felt to be so connected and in tune with one another, so completely lost in a moment.

So completely lost in each other.

Her legs tightened around his waist as she tumbled over the edge and he slipped his hand from hers, cradled her cheek and he pressed his forehead against hers as he came undone with her.

They stayed close, just breathing each other in as they basked in the afterglow.

"You're perfect," Rick panted against her neck, still fighting to catch his breath.

Kate giggled: she loved this part, when he was still hazy and unfiltered. He would spill each thought as it popped into his mind, as if he just couldn't stop the confessions tumbling from his lips.

His last confession had caught her off guard, for sure, but that was only because she hadn't been expecting it. She couldn't be blamed for that, surely. Only a crazy person - someone who was absolutely certifiable - could leap from 'sometimes it's just sex' to 'I love you' in a matter of weeks. But he had said it with such certainty and he had made no attempt to take it back, not even after she reacted the way she did. But there were three things that she knew for sure: one, Richard Castle was (especially when it came to love) absolutely certifiable; two, he was in love with her; and three, she was able to exist with those words in the world until she was ready to say them back.

She looked down at the man who was drifting off to sleep on her chest and smiled as one more thing became abundantly clear to her: she wanted to say those words back.

One day, soon, she would.

Chapter Text

Butterfly kisses were her new favourite good morning.

The soft brush of Rick's lips against the back of her neck, the leisurely traipse of his fingertips across her skin, the warmth of his body curled up behind hers: everything just felt so... right. Nothing had ever made her feel quite as secure as she did when she was in his arms.

To think that this was what she had been denying herself: a sense of security.

Because it won't last, that vexatious voice warned.

But... what if it did?

What if she could have this forever?

This joy, this comfort, this love. It could become her whole world, if she would just let it. And, sure, the idea of losing it already hurt her more than she would have thought possible just months ago. But each moment shared with Rick - each laugh, each kiss, each whisper - was slowly but surely convincing her that this was a once in a lifetime kind of thing. The kind of risk worth taking, regardless of how it may end.

Do you walk away from a magic show because you know it's just smoke and mirrors?

She groaned as her mind answered it's own question with a snarly magic's not real, regretted it the moment Rick's kisses stopped.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he whispered against her skin. "Just... couldn't resist."

Kate shook her head, grabbed the hand that had been tracing patterns on her stomach and brought it to her face to press a gentle kiss to Rick's knuckles.

"Best way to wake up," she reassured him with a sleepy mumble.

Encouraged by her words, he pressed a firm kiss to the back of her neck. Again and again, moving slightly until he reached the curve where her neck met her shoulder. He pressed his open mouth to her skin and his tongue darted out to taste her; he moaned and her eyes fluttered shut, heat pooled low in her abdomen.

"Was gonna go have a shower," he rasped against the shell of her ear. "Put my favourite gift to use."

She could hear the smile in his words when he spoke of his favourite gift and she just had to turn so that she could see his face. Sure enough, she wasn't disappointed. She twisted the top half of her body and was greeted by deep blue eyes and a smile brighter than the morning sun, her heart had never felt quite so full. She brought her hand up to his cheek, scratched gently at his two-day stubble and smiled to herself when his eyes fluttered shut, head dropped forward and a moan reverberated in the back of his throat.

"You need some help?" she asked.

His eyes shot open to find her wicked smile.

Rick didn't give her an answer; not with words, anyway. He tossed back the blanket, exposing them both to a rush of cooler air that swirled around them, then wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his body.

Kate giggled as he nipped at her ear, his stubble tickling along her neck and shoulders, and she shrugged in attempt to block his access to her ticklish spot. When he held her tighter and rolled to his other side, bringing her along for the ride, an excited - and slightly surprised - squeal escaped her. They both laughed.

She planted her feet firmly on the floor beside the bed to ensure they didn't both come tumbling out in a fit of laughter. It took a moment to orientate herself - her head slightly spinning from the sudden roll - and by the time she knew which way was up, Rick was standing behind her with his hands on her hips and his lips at her neck, guiding her toward the staircase.

"I'm naked!" she reminded him, as if his wandering hands weren't acutely aware of the bare skin they were roaming.

He moaned against her neck. "I know. I like you naked."

She giggled because, dammit, she liked him naked too! But the knowledge that they'd have to pass by floor-to-ceiling windows in order to get to her shower had swallowed those giggles too quickly. She planted her feet and reached out for the railing, stopping their movement.

As if he could read her mind, he softly reassured her, "You've seen the building from the outside: it's like a giant mirror-ball. No one can see."

She had been assured of her privacy when she toured the apartment, and again just the other day when she was up here with Bruiser. The privacy film on the windows created a mirror-like effect when it reflected light. She had been warned about the reversal of the effects, that - particularly at night - if the light from inside was brighter than outside, then anyone who might happen to be several hundred feet above ground might get a clear view into her home. However, given the fact that these windows fronted the river - and the only buildings with an unobstructed view of this side of the building were on the other side of said river - she didn't see that being much of an issue for her.

Still, the idea of strutting past them in nothing but her birthday suit made her slightly nervous. She would get used to it, she supposed.

Kate turned in Rick's arms and offered him a sweet smile. "Are you forgetting something?" she asked as her eyes raked over his body.

He looked down at himself, then back up to her eyes. "No?" She tilted her head and waited for him to realise but he wrapped his arms around her and smiled. "As long as I've got you, I don't need anything else," he said in a honey-sweet voice.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes but she couldn't stop her lips from curving into a beaming smile. This man and his ability to make her heart beat in silly little rhythms that surely weren't good for her health. She pulled herself from his arms and moved toward her dresser, pulling open his drawer. Then, with a pointed look in Rick's direction, she lifted the plastic bag: his favourite gift, apparently.

"Oh. Duh." He huffed out a laugh and then sauntered over to take the bag from her hands. "Sorry. I was obviously too distracted by the absolute angel in front of me."

Kate smiled. "An angel, huh?"

Rick hummed, wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his lips to the shell of Kate's ear. "When I'm good, she lets me do such devilish things to her," he rasped and then kissed her neck.

She inhaled sharply; her skin erupting in goosebumps because yes, god yes, she would let him do whatever he wanted to her.

That was such a foreign feeling for her: wanting someone else to take the reigns, to guide her and show her what they wanted. She was never selfish lover - her partner's enjoyment was always as important as her own - but she had always learned their desires from a position of power.

Don't be afraid to ask for what you want.

Ask, not tell, because that left her in charge. She had the power to deny them and, when she needed to bolster that sense of control, she did without hesitation.

It was different with Rick, though. She didn't want him to have to ask. She didn't even want him to tell her what he wanted. She just wanted him to take it, to make her his in a way she had never been anyone else's. She trusted him to do that, to take what he needed without taking too much, without making her feel used. And, if last night was any indication, all he wanted was her. Nothing about what they did was devilish; he worshipped her. To her, nothing in this world felt as pure as they way he loved her. The thought of ever denying him made her chest feel tight.

"Kate-" Rick brought his hand to her cheek, pulled back to look into her eyes.

She shook her head. "I'm okay," she promised.

He chuckled. "You gotta stop doing this to me."

Kate smiled and cradled his face between her hands. "I overthink. I'm sorry. But it's not always a bad thing, I promise."

She pressed a kiss to his lips; just a short, reassuring peck before she pulled back to smile at him again.

He smiled, too.

"Care to share these not bad thoughts, then?" he asked, and Kate blushed. "Oh, that good, were they?"

She nodded stupidly, words failing her.

"You know what? I think we need one more thing before we go." Rick dropped his palm from her cheek and slowly stepped away from her, back toward the bed. He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the box of condoms from last night. Then, he looked at her as if asking for permission. "Just in case those not bad thoughts keep swirling around that busy mind of yours."

"Maybe bring a few," she suggested and Rick's eyebrows arched in pleasant surprise. She rolled her eyes, shook her head. "To keep in the bathroom drawer," she clarified, pointedly.

Although she had no qualms about spending the day christening every surface of this place if that was what Rick wanted.

"Ah, planning ahead." Rick nodded his head as if to show he approved of her idea. Then, he pulled out roughly half of the box's contents. "I like it."

He tossed the box back in the drawer, pushed it shut with his foot and then rushed back over to Kate.

"Now," he said thoughtfully. "Where were we?"

He kissed her; tenderly, lovingly.

The hours passed all too quickly.

After their shower, Rick had offered to make breakfast while Kate finished transferring the last of her clothes into her wardrobe.

Each time she had moved, getting her bedroom sorted was always her first priority. Usually, luck would have it that moving day would fall right in the middle of a case and, therefore, she would only have small periods of time spared to unpack and sort all of her belongings. Her stuff would stay in boxes for weeks at a time and those piles of boxes would look more and more daunting as each exhausting day passed - but she would always have a nice, tidy place of refuge in her bedroom.

But now - clouded by this unfamiliar haze that seemed to completely warp her priorities - she just wanted to be with Rick. Right by his side; touching him, kissing him. That's why, when he headed to the kitchen to get a start on their breakfast, she rushed upstairs to throw on a pair of gym shorts and an oversized shirt, then rushed back downstairs to offer him some assistance. Assistance she knew he didn't need, but hoped he wanted.

She was certain that he could read her mind. As she practically skipped through the living room toward the kitchen, he watched with the most knowing smirk she had ever seen. With anyone else she probably would have been embarrassed to be so needy, but not with Rick, because when he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side she knew he was feeling just as pathetically dependant as she was. The need to cling would wear off, she was sure, but for now she was happy to just roll with it. It was unusual, but it felt right.

They didn't have many options for breakfast - she hadn't done a proper shop for groceries yet - but thankfully she had everything they needed for very, very basic pancakes. Although an easy task, they worked together as a team. They burned the first one - too busy kissing and giggling and whispering sweet nothing in each others ears to remember to flip it in time - but, once they were able to demonstrate the slightest amount of self control, the rest of the batch turned out perfectly.

Once they were refuelled, they went to the bedroom to finish the task Kate was supposed to have already done: sorting her clothes. It was a ten minute task, at most. Even less now that there were two of them doing it. Still, it took almost an hour. Probably because Rick had commented on just about every dress she had pulled out of the box.

You dress like such a girl, he had said once her wardrobe was brimming with clothing.

She couldn't blame him; apart from the two dresses she had stuffed into her suitcase before fleeing to Lanie's, he'd only ever seen her in the clothes she wore to work or the comfort clothes she had practically lived in outside of work for the past few months. He had no idea that she loved to get all dressed up, to do her hair and make up, to feel pretty.

She just laughed and reminded him, that would be because I am a girl, Rick.

When she had unpacked a sleek, black evening gown with a plunging neckline and hung it on a hanger, he was speechless for a moment. With a smile she held it against her body and asked him if he liked it. His only response was asking her to promise that she would let him take her somewhere she could wear it. Her heart had fluttered at the request; whether it had been the knowledge that he wanted to show her off or the look in his eyes as he had asked, she had been filled with a nervous excitement that temporarily muted her. All she could do was nod her agreement.

Soon, she promised him in her mind. She cemented that promise with a kiss.

By mid-afternoon they were done, everything in it's place and - apart from the broken down moving boxes in the corner - the place looked neat, tidy and homely.

It was real.

She did it.

She survived, she was moving on with life.

"I can't thank you enough," she said, her voice full of emotion, when Rick wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest.

"You don't have to thank me for a single thing, Kate," he said softly, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

She shook her head, though. She disagreed emphatically but she wouldn't argue.

"My dad is coming over in a few hours," she said. She turned in his arms, then looped her arms around the beck of his neck. "I invited him over for dinner, to show him the place."

"Oh, I see how it is," Rick said in a playful tone. "Just use me for my body and my impeccable organisational skills, then give me my marching orders."

Kate chuckled and shook her head. "No, you idiot, I'm asking if you want to stay and have dinner with us."

"Tonight?"

She nodded and Rick let out a heavy sigh.

"Or not," she said, trying to keep her voice light despite the twinge of pain in her chest. She dropped her arms from around his neck, but he kept his tight around her waist. "No pressure."

"No!" Rick blurted. "No, it's not- I'd love to! It's just, Mother is back from Paris and I promised Alexis that we'd all go to Le Cirque for dinner tonight," he explained and that pain in Kate's chest dissipated completely. "Alexis is a bit, uh, tense after the whole week with her mother so I just- I wanted to treat her a little."

She melted; he was so sweet. Then, she tensed again, averted her eyes. "Is Meredith..."

She let her voice trail off, not able to bring herself to actually ask the question on her mind. Not that she was even sure what she would ask, if she dared.

Is Meredith still in the city?

Is she going to dinner with Rick and his family?

Is she still the bane of his existence or is he falling for her again?

God, she felt so pathetic.

"She's flying back to LA tonight," Rick told her. "But, uh-"

Kate forced herself to look back at Rick - his expression was serious and... nervous?

"Everything okay?"

Rick nodded, but his expression remained unchanged.

"She'll be back next month," he admitted, as if warning her.

Her heart sunk because of course she would be back again. She'll always be back again. Kate knew she had no right to hate that but she just couldn't see a future where Meredith wouldn't be an issue.

"I promised her a family day and I know she won't let me get out of that so I figured it'll be best to just get it over and done with," he explained.

Kate shook her head and forced a smile. His eyes were studying her, trying to gauge how she felt about this situation and she refused to give him any doubt. Sure, she didn't like the idea, but she understood why it was necessary. She cared about Alexis and - after spending just one night with the kid - she would move mountains for the girl; not only did she understand why Rick would endure spending time with his ex-wife for his daughter, she admired him for it. Sure, he may have fallen victim to convenience and familiarity in the past, but she was sure that was all it was. She trusted him.

"I'm sure Alexis appreciates it," she said. "Do you know what you're going to do yet?"

She hoped the question sounded supportive; more curious than anything else. Not bitter, or jealous, or mistrusting.

He smiled and answered her question with the shake of his head; and when she stepped into his arms and rested her cheek on his chest, he laughed.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out what was so funny.

"You did it again," he said, still chuckling to himself. "You went on some insane journey in your mind. Your eyes are, like, crazy expressive and I swear you just felt every emotion known to mankind in those few seconds of thought."

She pressed her cheek to his chest again and let out a sigh. "You must think I'm psychotic."

"I don't think that," he said softly, as if trying to quell any actual insecurity before it had a chance to grow. But then, in jest, he added, "A little crazy, for sure, but not psychotic."

Seven thirty, on the dot, Jim's cab pulled up to the curb.

He had called to say he was on his way - an expected thirty minute trip - and she had waited anxiously for him in the lobby from the moment she had hung up the phone.

She wasn't sure why she was so nervous; her father had seen all of the apartments she had lived in over the years and, if she was being honest, the majority of the places she lived in her early twenties were absolute squalor compared to this place. But maybe that was exactly the issue. Every place she had ever called home before had been worked for, earned.

The shoebox dorms at Stanford were the payoff for years of dedicated study (which was no easy feat when she was simultaneously trying to live up to the Rebel Becks nickname she had somehow acquired in high school).

She had worked a crappy part-time job to be able to pay for the room she rented Queens while she was in The Academy. Her father had offered to pay but - given his own personal issues at that time - she had refused his help. She wanted to prove that she could stand on her own two feet (to herself and to her father). And she did.

The next place she lived looked like it probably should have been condemned a good decade or so earlier. Her poor father had looked like he wanted to cry the first time he visited her. Thankfully, she wasn't there for very long.

Each home slowly improved until she moved in with Adam. He had a wonderful little two bedroom in the heart of Manhattan, but when Kate happened to find an old brownstone for sale a few blocks away (and absolutely fell in love with it), he had put a deposit down the very next day. He had been living off inheritance money for a while so he never truly understood why Kate had been upset but, after a long and tiresome conversation about dividing costs and discussing plans before going ahead with them, they moved into the new home that they could call theirs. Kate had been serious about dividing the costs, too: she paid her half of the mortgage each month and within the year they'd lived together, she had paid back her half of the deposit.

She regretted that now: with the home being in Adam's name and there being no official contract in place regarding the money she had put into the place, she was almost certain she would never see that money again. However, there was a small part of her that would happily kiss that money goodbye if it meant never having to deal with her ex again. She didn't need it. She didn't even really want it. She was fine. Lesson learned, she just wanted to move on.

But here she was again, in a home that had been practically handed to her on a silver plater. She couldn't help but wonder if her father would be disappointed in her for taking handouts. Or for living above her means; this place was definitely more luxurious than she would ever actually need. She had grown up privileged but her parents always stressed the importance of only taking what you need, of always giving what you can, and how one should always earn the things they have. This apartment felt like she was laughing in the face of all those teachings.

"Hi, Katie." Jim greeted her with a hug, warm enough to melt away all her doubts.

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tight. "Hi, Dad."

The tour didn't take long: the place was big, sure, but there really wasn't that much to it.

Here's the living, dining and kitchen, there's the bathroom and upstairs is the bedroom. Done.

Her father didn't seem to mind, though. He, just like everyone else so far, was impressed by the beauty of the place. He stood by the window, staring out over the river for at least fifteen minutes while she checked on dinner's progress.

"Want an even better view?" she asked as she approached, two glasses of ginger ale in hand.

She passed one of the glasses to her father and he accepted with a gracious smile.

"Does it get better than this?" he asked.

"Follow me."

Kate grabbed a key fob from the bench - the one she had placed in a leather key chain to give to him - and led him out to the elevator.

When they stepped out of the greenhouse and onto the rooftop, Jim was just as awestruck as Kate had been. When Kate finally peeled her eyes away from her father, that sense of awe filled her again, too. She felt like she was looking at the space for the first time because - unlike the first time she was up here - now the sun was setting and the cityscape was shrouded in a pink and orange glow.

It was breathtaking.

And all she could think about was how she wanted to sit up here with Rick, wrapped in his arms as they watched the vibrant colours of the setting sun dance across the river. The thought alone filled her with this overwhelming sense of happiness and - dear God, what was happening to her? - she couldn't help but smile. It was at that exact moment that she felt his eyes on her. She turned, slowly, to face her father and her cheeks flushed when she realised he had been watching her, caught up in her daydream.

"I take it you got everything sorted?" he asked with a smile.

He didn't have to clarify, she knew exactly what he was referring to. She nodded, shy but certain.

"Good," he stated. "I'm glad."

She averted her eyes, worried they'd give away too much, just as Rick had said. Your eyes are, like, crazy expressive.

But when her father spoke again, she knew she was too late.

"You seem quite fond of the guy," he commented. Casually, because he knew his daughter, knew she had a terrible habit of hiding from anything that felt too serious.

Kate nodded. "I am," she admitted quietly. Then, as if her confidence was suddenly bolstered by his apparent understanding, she continued. "It feels like it's all moving so fast but it also just feels so... right. He's very spirited and a little impulsive and he has this whole persona for the public that he plays just a little too naturally for it to not have been authentic at one point, you know? But then he's also the kindest, gentlest, most caring person I've ever met and it's like every single thing I've ever read about him just can't be true: that's not the man I know." She looked at her father and sighed. "He'd give me the world if I asked for it. But all I want is him."

When the rosiness returned to her cheeks and she bit down nervously on her lower lip, he knew this one was different.

"You love him." Jim offers the truth quietly, but without hesitation.

All she can do is nod. Because, yeah, she does. And even though she can't say the words out loud - apparently not even to her father - she knows that it's true.

She loves Richard Castle.

Without her permission, a single tear slipped from her glistening eyes.

"I just don't know how I got it so wrong before."

"You wouldn't be the first person to fall for the wrong guy, Katie." Jim placed his glass on the table and then stepped closer to his daughter. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in for a hug. "Just- don't close yourself off to the possibilities," he urged. "Trust yourself. If it feels right, then it probably is. Don't miss out on something great."

It was after ten when Bernie, the night doorman, called up to let her know she had a visitor.

Rick was on the approved list, so Bernie had let him up in the elevator. The call was just a polite heads up but she appreciated it nonetheless. It meant that she could meet him at the door.

When Ricked stepped off the elevator to find her waiting for him, his smile beamed.

"Miss me, did ya?" she teased as he strode toward her.

His hands gripped her waist and pulled her against him. "Too much," he said before he leaned close and captured her lips with his.

He lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist. He took two giant steps inside of her apartment, turned them around and leant her body against the door before using their momentum to slam it closed. His hands saved her back from colliding against iron door; still, she gasped as his weight pushed against her.

"You okay?" he asked.

He tried to pull back, to check on her, but she fisted the collar of his shirt and kept him from moving away.

"I'm fine," she said softly. "Don't stop." Then, she claimed his mouth again.

She was sure he came here for a reason; to talk, maybe? But they'd get to that later.

Chapter Text

Rick could tell that Kate was nervous about her first day back.

It had been less than two weeks - the prescribed amount of time she was supposed to be off work - since the incident but, apparently, murderers don't care about the NYPD's current staffing situation. The department was understaffed so, seeing as Kate had passed her psych evaluation with flying colours and insisted that she was fit for duty, they allowed her back a few days earlier than planned. Desk duties only, which frustrated her, but she had been itching for something to do, something to keep her mind busy throughout the day so she happily accepted the temporary reassignment to desk jockey.

Despite the relief to be back at work, though, there were also nerves. Her tells were subtle; but he was always paying attention.

He had made her breakfast: a single slice of toast and a coffee. She was grateful, of course, but he had to practically beg her to actually eat it. She had taken two quick bites and then downed her coffee as if there were no time to actually enjoy it. And when he had convinced her that eating was a necessity, she had relented and sat at the counter to finish her toast. She was jittery, her leg bouncing rapidly for the entirety of the five minutes it took to polish off the meal.

After a shower that was so quick he was certain it would be entered into the record books, she spent an unfathomable amount of time picking out an outfit for the day. He was sure she had gone through every available option before finally settling on a simple black trouser, navy button-up blouse and dangerously high heeled pumps.

Rick looked up from the dishes he was washing just in time to see her scurrying toward the bathroom, rolling the sleeves of her blouse to her elbows. He finished cleaning up then walked to the bathroom and leant against the door frame. He watched as Kate straightened her hair and then curled it into the loose curls she wore almost every day. She was beautiful; so put together and professional looking. Gone was the soft, vulnerable woman he had spent lazy days and long nights with. Detective Beckett was back, stronger than ever, and a sense of pride swelled in his chest. She was ready for this.

Even if he wasn't.

It was one thing to be okay with everything that had happened when she was safe at home. He hadn't even realised he had his own anxieties about her return to work until this moment.

"You just gonna stare?" she asked.

Her attention remained fixed to the her reflection in the mirror, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. He looked into the mirror and his eyes met hers.

"Could stare all day, if I'm being honest."

Kate rolled her eyes but her smile only brightened. "You're distracting me."

Rick pushed off the door frame and took a few small steps closer, the overwhelming urge to be near her taking over him. He fought the urge to reach out, to touch her. She was in her zone - focused and calm, ready - he didn't want to disturb that.

"Kitchen's clean," he informed her. "Just wanted to let you know I'm gonna get dressed and then I'll take off."

She put down the straightening iron and turned to face him. She wasn't sure what she had expected, it's not like he would just hang out in her apartment all day waiting for her to come home again, but she found herself disappointed that he was leaving. She nodded, worried that any attempt at words would give away that disappointment, but as he turned to walk away she forced her voice to be heard. She wanted to delay his departure, even if just for a few seconds.

"Rick, wait," she called and he stopped, turned back to face her. "Did you, uh- did you want something?"

He looked at her, his head tilted in confusion.

"Last night, when you came over," she clarified. "Was there any particular reason?"

"No," he said with a casual shrug. "Just wanted to be here this morning."

She smiled and her heart skipped merrily. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." Rick moved closer, bracketed her waist with his hands.

A twinge of guilt stabbed between his ribs. It had only be a partial lie, he really did want to be here with her this morning but that wasn't his motivation for showing up unannounced in the late hours of the night.

"You need a lift or anything?"

Kate's hands rested on his chest, her fingertips traced patterns over his skin.

"I can hail a cab," she said quietly. "Thank you, though."

She leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I should go get dressed," he whispered as her lips left his.

. . .

There was a certain sense of morose in the air of her bedroom as he slowly dressed himself in the same attire he had worn to dinner last night. His deep purple button-up matched Kate's bedsheets almost exactly; maybe that was why he had worn the shirt that had hung untouched in the back of his closet for over two years, to make her smile at the sight of him wearing her favourite colour.

Not that he had known, last night as he dressed himself for dinner with his family, that she would even see him in it. The plan was for them to spend the night apart. He hated the plan but he knew they couldn't spend every night together and he had made his peace with that.

That was until he and his family arrived home from dinner.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" His mother had gasped dramatically, spun on her heel to face him. "Lovetta received some of your mail, again." She pointed toward the small pile of envelopes on the kitchen counter. "That letter you've been waiting on is in there."

He had been so excited he rushed off to his office, letter in hand, to get to work on his novel. This letter promised him answers, fuel for his writer's imagination. Instead, it filled him with dread.

A lawyer said she'd look into my case. Johanna Beckett...

... later, I found out she was murdered.

He was out the door within seconds; didn't even finish reading what Pulgatti had written. Honestly, he didn't care what else was there. His stomach churned violently and it took more focus than he cared to admit just to keep his dinner from making an untimely reappearance as he stormed to his car. It felt like he blinked and he was outside of Kate's apartment; another thing he didn't want to spend too much time thinking about. He just hoped autopilot had enough sense to stop for red lights...

Considering the twenty minute drive to her apartment had passed in the blink of an eye, the twenty second elevator ride to her floor felt like an eternity. He could feel the letter burning a hole in his jacket pocket. His heart raced, his head spun and his chest had never felt so tight. He knew what her mother's case had done to her. Not the specifics - she kept the details minimal, most likely for her own benefit - but he knew enough to know that this newfound information could be dangerous for her.

There was no way that he couldn't tell her, though. Even if it was nothing, it was too big of a coincidence to keep from her. But when the elevator finally reached her floor and he stepped off to find her standing there, waiting for him with a bright smile on her face, he just wasn't able bring himself to burden her with this knowledge.

He shook off the guilt associated with the memory and removed the jacket from where it hung over the corner of the free-standing mirror by her dresser, then slipped his fingers into the breast pocket. The letter was still there, still burning dangerously.

Not now, he decided. She was already on edge: nervous about returning to work; frustrated because she would be tied to a desk. The last thing she needed was... whatever this was.

Excuses.

He slipped his arms into the jacket and headed back downstairs.

She was almost ready to leave by that time. Dressed, hair perfectly styled, make up covering her bruises: the last lingering traces of that horrible day that felt like just yesterday but also, somehow, a lifetime ago.

"I wish cops looked like you when I was arrested," he said in jest, an attempt to provide his mind with some levity.

She turned her focus from her bag - which she seemed to be packing with daily essentials: a water bottle; gum; keys, etc. - onto him and raised a brow sceptically. "You've been arrested?"

"Wow. You really haven't looked into me, have you?"

Kate smiled and began to walk toward him. "I told you, Rick. I want to hear all of your stories from you."

She had reassured him of that at Alex Conrad's launch party, after overhearing whispers in the ladies room. At the time, he had assumed she had only meant that she wouldn't believe idle gossip from people who were simply so bored with their own lives that they had to talk about the lives of others. It would be all too easy for her to learn all about his past with a simple internet search or basic background check. Yet, she refrained. She really did want his story, no one else's version of it.

He was pulled from his train of thought when Kate came to a stop in front of him and placed her palms on his chest. He could feel the crumple of paper under her palm as she unknowingly pressed that burning letter to his chest. His heart stopped for just one moment when her eyes dropped low; he was certain she was going to ask him about it. Instead, she smiled and smoothed her hands over his shirt; his heart kicked into action again.

"My favourite colour," she said softly, eyes still honed on the material of his shirt.

"I know."

Her eyes lifted and met his. "It looks good on you."

"I'll wear it every day if you want."

The words just fell from him without thought but she laughed. She was happy. He made her happy. To him, that was everything.

He loved her. He wanted to make her life better, lighter, even if that meant keeping a secret from her.

Her mother was killed in a random wayward event. There was nothing more to the story; Kate had accepted that. She had put this to rest, buried it in the past, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to dig it up again.

He framed her face with his hands and kissed her.

A random wayward event. She may have accepted it, but she sure as hell didn't believe it.

And neither did he.

Unfortunately, Rick was never very good at this keeping secrets thing.

He had avoided Kate for three days. Three painstakingly long days of using his daughter as an excuse to not see the love of his life.

Yes, that's right, the love of his life.

Avoiding her and keeping a secret from her - and using his daughter to do so, on top of it all - tore him up inside; he was convinced he had given himself an ulcer. Each time she had called he was 'busy'. He'd kept his text replies concise, a quick supervising Alexis's extracurricular activities or sorry, in a writing frenzy. Lies, all lies.

In reality, he had been holed up in bed going over Pulgatti's letter again and again.

Later, I found out she was murdered.

If he thought too hard about it all, he would be sick.

This morning, however, he had managed to pull himself out of bed. He had decided, once and for all, that he if he had suffer the burden of this knowledge, he wasn't going to suffer alone. He wanted to tell Kate, to let her decide what she would do with the information. If she wanted to bury it, he would let it die (along with his dreams of writing Pulgatti's story). If she wanted to investigate it, he would be by her side to ensure she didn't find herself in that dark place she had fallen to all those years ago.

But first, he needed to know that he would be capable of protecting her from, well, herself. He needed to talk to someone who had seen Kate at her worst, someone who had been there while she put herself back together again.

That was how he ended up at the morgue.

"Uh, I'm looking for Lanie Parish," he said quietly to a woman dressed in scrubs that happened to be near the entrance.

He hadn't known what to expect - it's not like he'd ever been here before - but this definitely wasn't it. The large, three-storey building was home to not only the city's best Medical Examiners but also it's second largest pathology and forensics lab. The place was shiny and white, almost blindly so under the fluorescent lighting that lined the corridors. It seemed so... sterile. Which was probably a good thing, he supposed.

"Morgue is in the basement," the doctor (he assumed) said with a soft smile. "But I'd check her office first. It's second on the left." She pointed down the corridor, toward the elevator.

"Thank you."

He walked toward the elevator, planning on quickly ducking his head into Lanie's office - second on the left, he reminded himself - before heading to the basement but as he approached, Lanie strode out of her office.

Her brown eyes locked to his, wide with surprise. She wasn't expecting him, obviously. Why would she have been?

"Nuh-uh," she declared with the shake of her head. "Not getting involved."

"Involved in what?" he asked defensively.

Had Kate said something?

Had he done something?

Well, of course he had done something! He had been avoiding Kate but if he had been obvious about it, she hadn't said anything to him. In fact, each time he abruptly ended their good night phone call with a weak excuse of being tired, or Alexis needing him, or whatever he could come up with at the time, she had been so understanding about it.

Too understanding, in hindsight. Of course she knew something was wrong.

"Whatever is going on between you and Beckett, sort it out yourself!"

Lanie turned her back to Rick and walked toward the elevator. He followed.

"I need advice," he pleaded.

"Phone a friend," she retorted. "Your friend. Not me." She stopped and jabbed the small, round button to call the elevator to them. "Not getting involved," she repeated.

They both stepped into the elevator and she shot him a warning glance. He ignored it.

"There's something I haven't told her," he confessed. Lanie's warning glare morphed into something more... dangerous. "I just- I don't want to hurt her."

"I swear to God, Writer Boy, you better not be playing her or I will hurt you."

"I'm not," he promised. "I just, I really need help. No one knows her like you do and I know you want to protect her as much as I do."

Lanie's expression softened. Anger turned into something more akin to concern. "Protect her?"

The elevator doors opened.

"Can we talk?"

Lanie nodded.

Rick followed her down the hallway and into Examiner's Room 3.

"Hope you're not squeamish," she said as they moved further into the room.

He looked over to the metal slab in the centre of the room and a young man - probably only twenty or so years old - entered from another room off to the side.

"Ready, Dr. Parish."

The young man smiled at Lanie and, once she nodded at him, he moved to the cold lockers along the far wall. Rick watched, intrigued, as they pulled a body from the storage unit and placed it on a gurney, then transferred it onto the metal slab.

Once the young man left, Rick spoke.

"Was he murdered?"

Lanie looked at him. "That's what I'm going to find out."

"Am I strange for thinking it's kinda cool?" he asked. He tore his eyes away from the man that lay in between Lanie and himself, looked into the eyes of the medical examiner. "Not the fact that he may have been murdered," he clarified. "But all the things you can learn about someone, even after they're dead. It's fascinating."

"Usually when outsiders come down here it's reluctantly and with a permanent expression of disgust painted on their face," Lanie said with a smile. "Ryan and Espo are on their way over for my report on their guy. You have fifteen minutes. What are we protecting Kate from?"

Rick pulled the letter from his jacket pocket and passed it across to Lanie.

"It arrived a few days ago," he explained even though she hadn't asked. "Somehow found it's way into my neighbour's mail pile. I only got it the other night."

Lanie nodded, her eyes still scanning across the page.

"I went to Kate, I wanted to show it to her but- I chickened out, I guess."

She nodded again. Still reading, still silent.

God, he just wanted her to say something. Anything.

"I mean, it might be completely unrelated, right?" He didn't have to be a homicide detective to know that was utter nonsense. "The timing could have just been a coincidence." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Lanie or himself. "And it might not even be her-"

Lanie's narrowed eyes shot up to meet his, effectively silencing him.

"How many civil rights lawyers named Johanna Beckett do you think were getting around the city in '98?" she asked the obviously rhetorical question.

At least two, he hoped, because if the information in this letter was correct, there was a conspiracy afoot. There was no way that was a coincidence.

"I think it's pretty safe to assume it's her," Lanie said. But now, her voice was stripped of attitude and sarcasm.

She sounded concerned.

Sad.

Exactly how Rick felt.

"He warned me, you know? When we first started talking, he told me that the last person he shared his story with had ended up dead." Lanie looked at him, eyes glittering with empathy for the situation he had found himself in. He continued, "I figured he was, I don't know, trying to reel me in with murderous intrigue or something."

But, no, that hadn't been the case. According to Pulgatti's letter, Johanna Beckett had agreed to look into his claims that he had been framed by a dirty cop. Three weeks later she was dead.

"I have to tell her, right?"

Lanie shook her head; not a no, just expressing her uncertainty.

"This case..." her words trailed off, but Rick already knew what she was going to say.

This case had almost destroyed Kate.

Still reeling from the death of her mother - and the loss of her father as she knew him - Kate had become a cop because she needed answers that no one else could give her. She had dedicated her days to the city and her nights to her mother's case. Nothing ever panned out.

Rick had only been told bits and pieces of information and, for once in his life, he had never tried to push for more. He could see how much her perceived failure still tore her up, even years later. It may have been an old wound but it had never fully healed, that much was evident.

But Lanie had been there. Maybe not at the start but she had known Kate, befriended her, and was a part of Kate's support system while she was at her worst.

If Lanie thought that Kate could handle this, he would give her the letter tonight. If not, he would burn it and never utter a word of it to Kate.

He just didn't feel equipped to make this decision on his own.

"You give her a lead and she's not gonna be able to just walk away," Lanie uttered after a few moments of reflection. "It's one thing to not be actively investigating her Mother's murder but to remain in control with the first fresh lead this case has had in a decade?" She sighed, heavily, then complained, "Why'd you have to drag me into this?"

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Shit!"

He barely had time to register the whispered curse before Lanie thrust the letter into his hands and stepped around him.

"Hey," she said cheerily. "I was expecting Javi."

Rick turned around and saw Kate standing in the doorway, a confused look on her face. She hid it with a half-smile.

"They're in the box," she explained. "Might be a while so I've been granted permission to fill in. Cap did his risk assessment and decided a quick trip downtown wasn't too dangerous."

She and Lanie both laughed at her joke, albeit their half-chuckles were strained.

Kate's eyes flicked to Rick for just a moment, then back to Lanie as the medical examiner spoke.

"Desk duty driving you nutty already?"

"It's been days of watching everyone come and go. I've never been so envious of a busy schedule in my life."

"I thought desk duty kept you busy?" Rick asked before silently cursing himself for bringing her attention back to him. He felt guilty under her studying eyes.

"And I thought writing kept you too busy to leave the loft?" she shot back in an instant.

Yep, too understanding. She hadn't bought his excuses for a second.

"I had a, uh, predicament and needed an expert opinion."

It wasn't a lie, technically. Still, his stomach churned.

Rick looked at Lanie. "Thank you for your help. I should go."

The flicker of hurt in Kate's eyes was enough to shatter his heart into a million pieces.

He walked toward Kate, cautiously placed his hand on her waist. Sure, this wasn't her workplace but she was still at work and he didn't want to cross a line. She didn't pull away, he took that as a good sign. It was, after all, just the three of them in the room.

"I'll call you tonight?"

He didn't mean for it to come out as a question. It wasn't a question. He would call her. And this time he wouldn't try to brush her off. The uncertainty, at this point, was more for whether or not she would answer.

But she nodded her head, just slightly, and relief swelled in his chest.

She might be able to see right through him, she might know that he's been lying to her, but she wasn't mad at him.

That was a start.

Rick pressed his lips to the top of her head; a delicate, apologetic kiss that seemed to effectively ease some of the tension that hummed between them.

"I'll let you know when I get off work," she said.

His response came softly, sounded like the most natural thing in the world as it spilled from his lips.

"I love you."

Before she could respond, before she could even react, he was gone.

Chapter Text

"May I come over?"

The words had spilled so desperately from his lips the second Kate had answered his call.

She had sent him a text almost an hour ago - as promised - to let him know that she was leaving the precinct and heading home for the night. It took all of his self control not to call her that very second.

Pacing a hole in his office floorboards, he waited. Give her time to actually get home, he had repeated again and again in his mind. Get home, get settled. She's had a long day.

It was, after all, almost 9pm when he received her message. She'd been flat out for over twelve hours; scouring phone records and financials for discrepancies, chasing up alibis and making sure they were solid. She was bound to be exhausted, would mostly likely have a killer headache and knots in the muscles of her back from being hunched over a desk all day.

Maybe now isn't the right time...

He shook that thought from his mind before it had a chance to settle in. It had been too long since he had seen Kate - their awkward encounter in the morgue notwithstanding - and he missed her. He needed her. He needed to tell her about the letter so that he could be with her without feeling guilty.

"Please?" he added to his request, hoping the unintentional crack of his voice wouldn't send her into a panic.

She already knew something was wrong. She hadn't said as much to him, but given how Lanie greeted him earlier today she must have said something to her friend about his distant few days.

"You're not writing tonight?" she asked.

There was something in her voice that he couldn't quite place. The accusation in her tone wasn't as strong as it had been earlier when she was so obviously calling his bluff. There was still scepticism, sure, but she sounded softer. Almost as if she were calling some sort of truce.

"No. Not tonight." Another wave of guilt rushed over him. He was playing a dangerous game with these part-truths and omissions. It was a game he hated, a game he needed to be over sooner rather than later. "I've missed you."

Finally, a full truth.

An understatement, in fact. Missing her had barely scratched the surface: these past few days had felt like he could quite breath right without her.

"Did you want to stay tonight?" she asked quietly - hesitantly - and his heart soared.

Yes. A million times, yes.

"I would love to."

If she would still have him, that was.

Actions speak louder than words.

She had always believed that. And - as someone who quite often failed to find the right words to express herself - she would be a hypocrite if she didn't pay attention to what Rick was trying to tell her through his actions rather than just his words.

The way that he held her - in a bone-crushing embrace that he had pulled her into when she met him at her front door - and the overstuffed overnight bag he'd carelessly dropped to his feet in order to envelope her in said embrace told her that he was trying to make things right.

And that he had missed her.

Kate's heart thumped furiously against her sternum as she wrapped her arms around him and melted under his touch. She breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent.

God, she had missed him, too.

It had only been a few days and they both knew that her return to work would limit the amount of time they could realistically spend together. Still, she hadn't expected to mourn the loss of his presence. She knew it wasn't him physically being with her that she was missing, though. It was his emotional distance that had made the transition all the more difficult because she hadn't prepared herself for... this.

She had expected that the long and tedious days of being stuck at her desk would be made bearable by strings of text messages that ranged from comedic to flirtatious to downright not safe for work. She'd had visions of having to half-heartedly reprimand him about not distracting her while she was working while he pouted about being bored or uninspired.

Instead, all she got was radio silence.

No texts. No calls. Nothing.

The moment he left her apartment on Monday morning it was like she ceased to exist in his world.

She had been the one to call him that night. It was the first time she had ever initiated their good night phone call, the nightly calls that he had started over month ago. The only time he didn't call - not including his few nights in Vegas - was when they were together, so when she was climbing into bed and she still hadn't heard from him, she decided to call him for a change.

Rick had explained that he'd been busy all day helping Alexis with her Summer Break extracurricular activities and the day had gotten away from him. She wanted to believe him but there was something in the way he spoke, something in the tone of his voice that seemed strained, and she just knew that there was something more going on.

The call had lasted barely five minutes.

The next day was more of the same. She sent a few texts, received a few bare-minimum responses.

She didn't call him that night and he didn't call her; she barely slept a wink and when she woke she had a text from him.

Sorry, was outlining chapters and in the zone. By the time I put the laptop down it was late and I didn't want to wake you.

Again, she wanted to believe him.

It was just a few hours later that she walked into the morgue to find him there, talking to Lanie. For a moment - a short, stupidly naïve moment - she had thought that, logic be damned, maybe he was there to see her.

He's not here for you, the unwanted narrator in her mind teased. He's avoiding you.

The unmasked surprise on Lanie's face only reinforced that notion.

You fool.

That momentary naivety vanished and the joy that had begun to bubble in her chest was replaced with something much heavier. When Rick left, that heaviness sank to the pit of her stomach and had remained there until this very moment. Lanie, after not caving under the pressure of Kate's interrogative glare, had made her promise to hear him out. And, if she were to be totally honest, the knowledge that Lanie - calls her out on her bullshit but is unrelentingly in her corner Lanie - seemed to be backing Rick's play did give her some reassurance that his actions these past few days weren't of nefarious intent. Lanie had only just helped Kate pick up the broken pieces of her heart; her friend wouldn't let her (no, encourage her) to walk into battle unprepared and unguarded.

So, with Lanie on his side, Kate was fairly certain that whatever had occupied his mind these past few days wasn't something that could hurt them. He was battling with something and, for whatever reason, keeping her on the outside. She only hoped that, right now, he was trying to move forward with her, that he was going to try and let her in.

He had taught her that the best way to sort out the chaos of your mind was to let someone in to help. She wanted to be that person for him. She wanted to help bring back the all-in, shamelessly in love with her version of Rick that he had been just days ago.

"Come inside," she said as she reluctantly pulled herself from his arms.

Rick kept his hand on her hip as he bent to pick up his overnight bag. She stepped backwards, led him into her apartment and he dropped the bag again as he kicked the door shut behind them.

"How was work?" he asked, placing another hand on her hip.

His fingers pressed into her, gripping to her as if he was scared she was going to slip away. His nerves radiated, the tension between them so thick it was almost suffocating, and his small talk only seemed to make it worse.

Still, she forced a smile.

"It was fine," she offered politely, as she would with any acquaintance that had asked the same question. Someone who knew her so intimately deserved more, though. "Got pretty busy," she added then sighed at the lame attempt at more.

Rick released his grip of her waist, slipped his hands into hers and led her toward the couch. They sat together, bodies angled toward one another as they remained silent. He laced their fingers, bumped his knee against hers and smiled to try and diffuse some of the tension. However, Kate was unresponsive to his attempts. It was obvious he didn't know how to address whatever was going on and the longer she had to wait, the more anxious she became.

Just spit it out.

"You know I love you, right?" he offered, as if reading her mind.

The words didn't soothe her though; they sparked an entirely new fear within her. A week ago they had made her want to run. Now they made her want to cling for dear life, they made her feel like he was the one slipping away.

"I know," she said softly, afraid her voice may break if she spoke with too much conviction.

She squeezed his hand gently.

"All I want is for you to be happy," he continued.

Her stomach somersaulted aggressively. "I am happy, Rick," she asserted. "You make me happy."

She shifted closer to him, squeezed his hands a little tighter as if her proximity and her touch could bolster her words with a confidence she simply couldn't muster right now. But, god, she would drop to her knees and beg if that's what it took to rid him of whatever doubts had crept into his mind.

Just say the words.

But it was never that easy.

"Rick, please just tell me what's going on," she pleaded.

Rick slipped one of his hands from hers and placed it on her cheek. She instantly covered it with her own and leaned into the heat of his touch.

"I know you're trying to be delicate," she whispered before turning her head slightly to brush a kiss to the palm of his hand. "Please, just tell me. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than the scenarios playing in my mind."

An eternity passed in the silence but, finally, he spoke.

"It's about your mother."

She pulled his hand from her face, let it drop to the couch. Of all the scenarios she had imagined, none of them had prepared her for those words to spill from his lips.

She stared, studying his expression as if it could offer her more information. Her lips parted slightly, ready to fire off the million questions that raced through her mind but the words just wouldn't come out.

What about her mother?

"I, uh. I finally got that letter that I was waiting on," he continued hesitantly. "From Pulgatti."

"The cop killer that, like every other killer in Sing Sing, is declaring his innocence to any sucker willing to listen?"

It was harsh - unnecessarily harsh - but it was like water off a duck's back and Rick continued.

"I know you don't believe his story-"

"You didn't either!" she argued. Her voice was raised; not quite yelling but it was obvious her emotions were getting the better of her so she took a deep breath before continuing. "At least you said you didn't. Please don't tell me he got to you."

"He didn't," Rick said definitively but after a moment of hesitation he added, "Maybe. I haven't one hundred percent decided."

Kate rolled her eyes and rose to her feet. "What does this have to do with my mum, Rick?"

He reached into his jacket and pulled the letter from the pocket. It was more crumpled than it had been the last time he had brought it here to show her. It had been studied, folded and unfolded dozens of times, tucked into it's envelope only to be pulled back out again. The edges were starting to wear, the paper soft and fragile. It looked decades older than it really was, much like Rick felt in this moment.

As he stared at the white envelope in his hands and mustered the courage to tell her what he knew, the words of Dickinson that his mothered had always valued so dearly echoed in his mind. Tell all the truth but tell it slant. There was no way in which he could slant this truth to make it easier, though.

"When I first engaged Pulgatti he told me that the last person who tried to help him ended up-" He cut himself off, unable to say the words.

Dead.

The last person who tried to help Pulgatti ended up dead.

"They were killed."

He forced himself to look at her.

The admission felt like razorblades on his tongue; the unmasked expression on her face as she pieced it all together like a knife to the heart. Her posture stiffened and she clenched her jaw.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

The pain in her voice obliterated his composure and he shook his head rapidly.

"N-nothing. I'm not doing anything."

"My mother was not murdered in some sort of conspiracy, Rick," she warned but it was obvious she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince him.

She paced away from the couch and ran her hands through her hair, moving it away from her face before she spun on her heel to face Rick again. "Random gang violence," she stated. The final conclusion the detectives had settled on back in '99. She didn't believe it then and she didn't believe it now, but she had accepted it. "I went over her file a hundred times. Don't you think that if there was any evidence to suggest otherwise, I would have found it?"

Rick sighed and placed the letter down on her coffee table.

Her eyes followed it, glared at the paper as if it were the most dangerous thing in the world. Right now, for her, it might have been.

"Not if they didn't want you to find it," he said softly.

Her eyes shot back to him, dark and angry as if he had just told her she wasn't good enough. Not as good as the people covering up her mother's death, anyway.

Rick stood but didn't make a move to get any closer to her, despite how desperately he wanted to reach out and hold her. She needed her space right now, he respected that. He wouldn't cross that line, wouldn't force his presence on her, wouldn't risk her running in the opposite direction.

"In the letter, Pulgatti said that he reached out to every civil rights attorney he could find in hopes that someone would look into his case. Only one person ever replied to him. Johanna Beckett."

He watched her, tried to get a read on how she was processing this information. Her breathing was heavy, eyes glistening with tears that she was stubbornly refusing to let fall. She was mad, very mad. Logically, he knew that anger wasn't anything new. She had been angry at the world since she was nineteen years old, grappling with the unfairness of the world. It was an anger that she battled with almost every day since. She had told him so, when she made the decision to let him in, to trust him. But she had also told him that when the anger resurfaces she would often direct it in all the wrong places. He was certain he wasn't going to get through the night unscathed.

He understood.

He'd take whatever he had coming, if it helped her.

"It doesn't necessarily mean anything," he said, trying to assuage her pain. "But you understand that I couldn't not tell you this, right?"

Kate's head bobbed slowly as her eyes dropped back to the offending letter.

"It's yours, if you want it," he told her.

He could tell her curiosity was close to winning the battle against... whatever it was that was keeping her from reading. Fear, pride, anger. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure if curiosity was a good thing or not.

Would reading Pulgatti's letter be the beginning of the end? Would she spiral and find herself back in that familiar rabbit hole? The one she had spent so long trying to fight her way out of.

If he could turn back the hands of time, he never would have entertained a hardened criminal's ludicrous story.

"I don't want it," she decided.

Rick breathed for what felt like the first time in days. "I'll get rid of it."

"No," she said, just a little too quickly for his liking. "Just... leave it."

She had every right to read the words Pulgatti had written about her mother, if she chose to do so. He would never deny her that. That didn't mean he had to like it. Still, he left the letter where it sat, where she would have access to it at any time should she change her mind.

"I'm going to shower," Kate announced before storming off toward the bathroom.

The door slammed shut behind her and Rick just stood in the living room, unsure of what came next.

She had been in the shower for too long, she knew that, but she couldn't bring herself to shut off the stream of water.

Water cascaded over her, blanketed her in warmth as it washed away the day's troubles.

Or, at least, that's what she was hoping for.

She wasn't sure what Rick was doing on the other side of these walls. She wasn't even sure if he was still there. She certainly wouldn't have blamed him if he had left.

She wasn't mad at him. When she looked at the evidence, he hadn't done anything wrong. At most, he was guilty of caring too much.

Caring too much about the accuracy of his stories; that was, after all, why he had reached out to Pulgatti in the first place. It's not like he had planned on her mother's name being dragged into this. He was just as surprised by the revelation as she was. He hadn't been poking his nose into Johanna's case, the case that had almost destroyed her. He hadn't been carelessly picking at old wounds just to see how much they would bleed. He had inadvertently stumbled upon information and then proceeded to spend days tearing himself up over whether or not he should tell her.

Because he cared too much about her.

He had just wanted to protect her from this because he had known how much it pained her to not have been able to get justice for her mother, to not be able to give herself and her father some closure. In the end he decided that he needed to be honest with her, no matter what.

How could she begrudge him for that?

And yet, she couldn't shake the anger and the hurt. Because now he was a part of the most painful aspect of her life.

She hung her head back and let the water wash over her hair, closing her eyes as small streams spilled over her face. Her head was pounding in synch with the rapid beat of her heart, her throat constricted by the emotions she was trying to keep at bay, and the shower was doing absolutely nothing to release any of her tension. Her entire body was wound up so tightly she felt like a bomb, mere seconds away from detonation.

There was a tentative knock at the door, followed by the gentle call of her name. It was so soft it barely broke through the barrier of white noise from the running water and the bathroom's exhaust fan, she wasn't quite sure she had actually heard it.

"You can come in," she croaked out anyway.

The slow creak of the door confirmed that she hadn't imagined his voice, and Rick cautiously entered the bathroom. He had stayed. Even she hadn't realised how much that meant until just now.

The shower screen had fogged up from the steam that swirled in the air so she couldn't really see him, just his blurred figure, as he leaned back against the vanity.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded, unable to give an actual voice to her answer - her throat was too tight, emotions too close to the surface - before she realised he probably couldn't see the miniscule movement of her head.

"I can leave if you want."

Silence.

Rick sighed. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

The dark figure on the other side of the glass shifted toward the door, filling her with the urgency she needed to squeak out an actual response.

"Don't go."

Her meek request was enough to stop him.

She couldn't stop herself from being upset with him, even though she knew it was irrational. But what she found even more irrational was the fact that she knew, even while upset with him, he was the only one who could make her feel better. The water - it's warmth - it was comforting, sure, and she wasn't quite ready to leave it just yet but she knew that Rick could comfort her in ways she had never experienced before. Without words, he could soothe her. His presence, his touch, it was like a security blanket. She needed that right now.

She needed him.

She pushed on the glass door and it cracked open. The warm air around her leaked from the ajar door, replaced instantly with the cooler air from the other side of the glass and she had to cross her arms over her body to keep the chill from seeping down to her bones as she waited for him. She knew that he had understood her silent request because she could hear movement, the shuffling of clothes as he undressed, and soon enough he was stepping into the shower with her. She turned her back to him and faced the tiled wall. She didn't want him to see her eyes, undoubtedly red-rimmed from the tears she still hadn't let fall.

One large hand fell to her waist, the other smoothed a path up her spine before massaging the back of her neck. She placed her hands on the wall to brace herself as he expertly kneaded the tension from her muscles. It wasn't long before she began to relax under his touch. She leant her forehead against the cool tiles and closed her eyes, allowed him to do the job she had hoped the hot water would do: wash away her troubles.

His hands ghosted down her sides to her hips where his thumbs rubbed firm circles, working the muscles of her lower back. She felt him step closer, felt his body press against hers. His body was so large it seemed to surround her fully. For a moment, nothing but him existed. Anyone else and she would have been fighting to get away but, with Rick, she would happily stay exactly where they were forever. Trapped between him and the wall, she had never felt so secure, so safe.

Safe enough that, against her will, the tears she'd been holding back finally escaped her control. Her shoulders slumped as she began to cry.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her back against him and dipped his head so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered.

A sobbed ripped through her and her entire body shook from the force.

Rick dropped his forehead to the top of her head, held her as she cried and whispered soft reassurances into her hair as the water cascaded over the both of them.

She cried until there were no tears left to shed, until she was so exhausted she was certain his arm wrapped firmly around her torso was the only thing that kept her from crumbling into a pile on the shower floor, cried until the water began to cool.

Once the tears had stopped and her breathing had begun to even out, Rick turned off the water and stepped out of the shower to retrieve their towels. He wrapped his around his waist and then draped hers over her shoulders to keep her warm, then pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll get your pyjamas."

He returned several minutes later after hastily dressing in the mismatched pyjamas he had packed for himself and digging a soft cotton shirt and silk sleep shorts from the dresser for Kate. On his way back he had scooped up one of the dining chairs and carried it in to the bathroom.

Kate stood in almost the exact spot he had left her in. She was mostly dry - except for her dripping hair - and had turned to face the partially de-fogged mirror. He followed her gaze, took in her appearance in the reflection and wondered to himself what exactly she was seeing as she studied her paled skin, red and puffy eyes, and sorrowed expression.

Did the sight break her heart in the same way it broke his?

He placed the chair down behind her and passed her the pyjamas he'd selected for her. As she dressed, he dug through the vanity cupboards and drawers for her hair dryer and a brush. Once he was set up with everything he needed, and she was dressed, he placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her to sit.

"Do you use anything special in your hair?" he asked her.

He was no expert but he had been told enough times over the years how lucky he was that Alexis had low maintenance hair and that if she'd had naturally curly hair like her mother's mother, he would have had a much harder time nailing all those hairstyles he had taught himself when she was younger.

Kate's natural hair was beautiful and curly. The last thing he wanted to do was somehow ruin it when he was simply trying to help her out.

He met her eyes in the mirror's reflection and waited for her answer. She stared vacantly for a moment, as if she hadn't even realised he was talking to her, before snapping into action.

"Uh, yeah, I do."

She leaned forward, pulled a bottle of product from the bottom drawer and tipped a small amount of it into her palm, then used her fingers to comb it into her wet hair.

"You don't have to do that," she said when he reached for the hair dryer.

"I want to."

With her nod of approval, he then proceeded to brush and blow dry her hair. She watched him in the mirror the whole time, a small smile on her face.

By the time he finished, it was close to midnight. Kate was exhausted; her eyes drooped and she could barely keep herself upright, swaying in whatever direction he glided the brush through her hair. He turned off the dryer, placed it on the vanity and then stood behind her to admire his handy work. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she leant back against him.

"Did you mean to straighten my hair?" she asked, sleepy yet amused.

He shook his head. "Nope. Not even really sure how I did it."

Kate chuckled to herself and placed her hands over his. "You did good."

Rick dipped his head and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Let's get you to bed."

She didn't protest when he helped her to her feet and began to lead her toward the bedroom, shutting off the lights as they went by. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close as they ascended the stairs and when they reached the bedroom he even tucked her into her side of the bed before settling in beside her.

She waited for him to turn off the lamp before cuddling up beside him and, when he wrapped his arm around her body, she rested her head on his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Rick kissed her forehead before whispering back to her, "Go to sleep. I love you."

Everything was so still and silent, he was almost certain she had fallen asleep already but after several seconds he heard her gentle whisper.

"I love you, too."

Chapter Text

Her worst enemy lived in her mind, and he wasted no time at all before assaulting her in her sleep.

Images of her mother flashed behind closed eyes; one after another, again and again giving her no reprieve from the torment. The alleyway, piles of trash, her mother's lifeless body; all images she had wished she could purge from her memory. Over the years, she had tried just about everything in hopes to do exactly that - alcohol, partying, boys - and when none of that worked, she pulled a complete one-eighty and studied every aspect of her mother's case until she knew every detail of it better than she knew anything else.

For so long - for too long - nothing else existed.

She had immersed herself in the world of case fileCF20958 so deeply and for so long that, at one point, she had been certain she would be lost in that dark and lonely world forever. In a world where she remembered her mother in death - her soulless eyes, paled skin and cyanosis-touched lips - clearer than she could recall the woman alive.

Some days the memories of her mother - the way her eyes shone so brightly as she told such animated stories or how the dimples that bracketed her mouth would deepen when she smiled - seemed like little more than a distant blur, and she would find herself going back through photo albums and old home movies just to remind herself of the light her mother once brought into the world.

She had hoped that, after years of distance from the case, images of her mother lying dead in that alley would begin to blur, too.

They never did.

A long and low rumble of thunder pulled her from her nightmare reel of memories. Her pillowcase felt wet - soaked with tears or sweat, she couldn't quite tell - and her sheets tangled around her legs; a tell-tale sign that the few hours of sleep she had managed were anything but restful. Despite the hot, humid summer's night air that flowed through the cracked-open window above her bed, a chill rolled down her spine and her body shuddered.

Rick's arm curled around her and pulled her body closer. The man was heaven sent, he had to be. Comforting her, even in his sleep. Kate smiled to herself as her eyes raked over his moonlit face; so peaceful and at ease, nothing at all like the scared, hurting man who stood before her just hours ago or the stoic man who had held her while she mourned the mother she had lost too long ago.

Of it's own accord, her hand ghosted up the side of his neck and rested against his cheek; fingertips reaching to swipe a lock of hair from his forehead and trace delicately along his defined features.

I love you, too.

Her movements stilled as the words - spoken so softly and in her own voice - echoed through her mind.

She had finally admitted it to herself - and to her father, in her own overly cautious way - and good God it felt good just to acknowledge those feelings. They still terrified her beyond reason and she couldn't help but think about how devastating it would be to allow herself to feel so much - and to feel it so deeply, at that - only to have it all taken away from her but she was so tired of letting fear win. She didn't want to be afraid to love him in the way he deserved.

Fearlessly.

In the silence of the night - when she felt so secure wrapped in his arms, inhaling the musky scent of his body wash - she even felt like maybe she was capable of doing just that: of letting go of her fears and loving him without restraint.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he had broken through her defences and weaselled his way into her heart but she did know it was a lot earlier than she would probably ever be able to admit out loud. To herself, though? She could probably admit that he'd made a fairly notable crack in her armour on that very first night and, at some point in the months since, she had blinked and completely missed the part where he had become her best friend.

The first person she thought of in the morning and the last face to cross her mind before she drifted off to sleep.

The person she wanted by her side, all the damn time.

And, for some unknown reason, he seemed to want that same thing. He knew her better than she had allowed anyone else to know her in a very long time and, still, he wanted to be with her. He saw all of her flaws and thought that they made her all the more beautiful.

I love you, too.

She had been in the hazy limbo of not quite asleep but definitely not awake when she heard the voice that sounded so much like her own say those words. Rick - as if wanting to torment her - had barely reacted. The arm he had curled around her body tightened and held her closer but he didn't say anything, didn't do anything. To be honest, she was starting to question whether she had even said the words at all. Perhaps she had just asserted them so clearly in her mind, thought them with such truth and conviction that she had only dreamt they had spilled from her lips.

Usually, the did I or didn't I? would have sent her into a spiral of anxious thoughts, keeping her awake as she replayed the moment over and over again in her mind, trying to solve the puzzle. Not this time.

A flash of lightning illuminated every corner of the room and another low rumble of thunder rolled over the city, threatening to pull Rick out of his sweet slumber. The storm was coming in quick. When the rumble ended in a fiercely loud crack, Kate tensed and sucked in a sharp breath.

"Got you," Rick mumbled sleepily against the top of her head after he pulled her against his chest in a crushing, comforting hug.

If it were anyone else she would be pulling herself free, insisting she was fine and scoffing at the idea that a thunderstorm had actually scared her rather than simply catching her off guard. With Rick, though, she simply snuggled in closer, pressed her ear to his chest and allowed the sounds of his beating heart soothe her back to sleep.

She dreamed of him.

Some unknown assailant; a masked figure with a knife, stalking her mother into a dark alley. For so long she had convinced herself that her mother was just a target of opportunity. The knowledge that he had followed her (or possibly even lured her) into that alley felt like an anchor wrapped around her waist.

And she was standing on the edge of the pier.

"Just don't jump," she whispered to herself as she looked down at the chain that dug into her hips. The ocean breeze whipped her hair in every direction and salted mist hit her face. Just don't jump.

But then he appeared again: the masked figure. Just a shadowy outline she couldn't quite recognise. He stepped up to her side, looked out over the horizon as if taking in the view. Then, without a single word, he picked up the anchor and tossed it over the edge of the pier.

"No!" she screamed, reaching out to stop him.

But it was too late.

The chain scraped against the wooden pier as the anchor sank deeper and deeper. And then, the heavy metal tugged around her waist and pulled her under.

Kate greedily sucked in a breath, almost certain she'd be met by the burn of saltwater filling her lungs instead of the air she so desperately needed. But when her eyes shot open she was lying in her bed, not sinking deeper and deeper into her watery grave.

Relief overwhelmed her. So much so, she had to press her hand to her mouth in order to keep her relief from bursting out of her in the form of jagged breaths and shaky cries.

She slipped out from under her sheets and tiptoed downstairs, so she wouldn't wake Rick. He had already been disturbed too many times tonight. That and she didn't want him to know just how truly fragile her psyche was. He had torn himself up over whether or not he should tell her about the letter, the last thing she wanted was for him to feel that maybe he had made the wrong decision.

As she tiptoed through the darkness of her apartment, the envelope she knew was still on her coffee table stood out like a beacon of light. Moonlight reflected off the white paper, making it impossible to ignore. She turned her back to it, made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. One hand curled around the edge of the counter top of the other shakily brought the glass to her lips.

Fresh water - cold and refreshing - coated her tongue and washed away that heavy ocean water taste that logic alone couldn't rid her of.

Kate placed the empty glass in the sink - she'd deal with it in the morning - and then slowly drifted toward the windows that overlooked the river. It was so still at night: no boats; no rowers; nothing to disturb the surface, not even a gentle breeze. From where she stood, the perfect, unrippled reflections of the city lights made the water look more like glass.

A vision formed in the very back of her mind: breaking free of that anchor chained to her waist and struggling to the surface only to find it was solid, she couldn't break through.

Stuck. Drowning. With no one around to help.

Her hand gently curled around her throat and she inhaled one slow, shaky breath, reminding herself that she was okay, but as she continued to stare at the eerily calm river, the heavy anxiety in her gut only intensified. She turned away from the window and focused her attention on that glowing white envelope instead.

She wasn't sure how long she had stared at it. It had felt like an eternity had passed as she stood still, glaring at an inanimate object as if it were to blame for all the world's problems. In reality, it had probably only been a few seconds before she was caving under the weight of her curiosity. She snatched the envelope off the coffee table and flopped down onto the couch, flicking the lamp on in the process.

Her eyes scanned the page, devouring Pulgatti's words. The way this man - a hardened criminal with the blood of dozens upon dozens of victims on his hands - talked about her mother was... soft. It was clear that he had a lot of respect for Johanna, the one person who seemed to be willing to give him a chance. There was also an undertone of regret in the way he wrote about her death.

... because of me...  an innocent victim...  a family torn apart...

Her eyes blurred as she read Pulgatti's warning to Rick.

Leave it alone before you end up just like her.

She blinked to clear her vision, wiped at the tears that streaked her cheek.

When Rick had told her about the possible connection between Pulgatti's case and her mother's murder, she hadn't even considered the fact that this knowledge might have put a target on his back. That thought cracked open her chest in the most painful way; hurt cloaked her, it's weight forcing her to shrink down into the couch cushions. She hated this, hated every part of it. She hated that the future she could have had was stolen from her that day, hated that nothing from these past twelve years had ever come close to filling the void left in her life. She hated that the moment something did start to fill that void, it had been threatened, too.

She hung her head back against the couch and sunk even deeper into the cushions, closing her eyes.

In the darkness and the quiet, she replayed her most beloved memories of her mother in her mind.

"Kate?"

Rick's voice startled her awake. She jumped, sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes darted around the room.

The sun was out now; golden rays streamed through her windows, warming her apartment.

She felt the couch dip beside her and a hand on her thigh brought her attention to the man beside her.

"You okay?"

Rick was watching her with studying eyes, searching every part of her face for some sign that she wasn't okay.

She smiled and placed her hand over his. "I'm okay," she assured him.

His eyes dropped to the letter on the floor by her feet - she must have drifted off at some point and dropped it - and then he looked back at her. She could see the questions in his eyes, the curiosity that nagged him, begged him to pry.

"Woke up lonely," he said with a soft smile. He tucked her hair behind her ear, let his thumb ghost along her cheekbone. "Were you out here long?"

Kate shook her head. "Don't think so," she said softly. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched out her back with a long groan. Okay, maybe she had been curled up on the couch a little longer than she should have been. "Couple hours maybe."

Rick grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. As he wrapped his arms around her body, she curled up against his chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled, breathing in his scent.

"Did it help at all?" he asked in a soft, cautious tone; a near-whisper.

The warmth of his breath skirted along the exposed skin of her neck and into her hair.

He didn't need to clarify for her what he meant. The letter.

"It wasn't as horrible as I had imagined," she told him truthfully. "Satisfied my curiosity, I guess, but I wouldn't really say it helped."

"You could have woken me up," he told her. "You didn't have to do this alone."

"I know." She pulled back just far enough to look up into his eyes and offering him a small, reassuring smile. "It's just- you look so darn cute when you're asleep. I couldn't bring myself to wake you up."

Rick huffed out a soft laugh.

"The snoring and the drooling," she continued. "It really is a sight to see."

"Oh, ha ha," he said dryly. "I don't snore."

"Not denying the drool, I see."

Rick wrapped his hand around the back of Kate's neck and pulled her closer, pressing his forehead to hers.

"You," he practically growled. "Are lucky you're, like, super hot."

Kate laughed. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"It makes up for the fact that you're frustrating as hell."

She laughed again; heartily. Not at all offended by his words.

It was almost as if she took pride in driving him mad.

His hand smoothed down her spine, gripped at her hip and pulled her closer. She shifted, straddled him and combed her fingers through his hair, bringing his face closer until her lips brushed against his.

Oh, she could drive him mad in more ways than one.

The delicate touch of her lips was just enough to spark a fuse within him. He held her close and kissed her with the hunger of a man starved; each of her satisfied moans a decadent treat. He wanted nothing more than to give into the desire that coursed through his veins - all day, every day - but he couldn't.

The memories of last night wouldn't allow him to.

He had known it would be bad. From the very little information she had willingly given him over the past few months, he hadn't expected her to be anything less than devastated by the possibility that her mother may have been killed as part of a cover up. Still, nothing could have prepared him for her reaction.

Her anger had been expected. Welcomed, in fact. He saw it burn, wild and dangerous, in her eyes - an inferno - and he braced himself for the fight. But in the blink of an eye, the inferno was gone. Doused by her need to protect herself, to remain in the little bubble of reality that she had accepted a long time ago: that her mother's death was the result of bad luck. There was no rhyme or reason. It just was.

He had never seen anyone shut down quite as quickly as she had after that. He hated how long it took for him to notice, hated how much time he had wasted pacing back and forth in her living room while she was breaking down in her shower. He had assumed that she was in there quietly seething, maybe even plotting out his demise. When he had finally worked up the gall to check in with her, he was heartbroken by what he found instead.

An exhausted shell of the woman he loved.

Now, she was making it clear - from jokes of drool and snoring, to the persistent stroke of her tongue and grind of her hips - that she was ready to move on. She was done talking, done crying.

But he wasn't. He couldn't, in good faith, pretend that none of this had ever happened. He needed reassurance.

Rick eased the urgency of their kiss, pressed his forehead to hers and broke the seal of his lips on hers.

A little flustered and breathless, he whispered to her.

"I know I have no right-" He cupped her face and smoothed his thumb across her cheek. "No right at all to ask you not to investigate this but-"

"I'm not going to look into it," she interrupted, shaking her head vehemently.

Rick frowned, confusion flooding his mind. He had thought, for sure, that wouldn't be able to walk away from a new lead in her mother's case. His conversation with Lanie had only bolstered that idea more and this morning, finding she had snuck down to read the letter in the middle of the night, he had never been more sure that he had come to the right conclusion. Yet, here she was, making promises he didn't think she could keep even if she wanted to.

"I know this is difficult," he said, hoping she can hear in his voice that he wasn't judging her need for justice. He understood, he really did. "But this is probably just a dead end, right? I'm sure you get them in every case; leads that don't actually lead anywhere."

Kate nodded. "We do. More dead-ends than genuine leads," she confirmed. "But, I mean, a good cop follows all avenues. You don't know its a dead-end if you don't follow it all the way."

Rick's whole body tensed as his mind scrambled to a solid reason as to why a good cop wouldn't waste any time on Pulgatti's theory. He couldn't think of a single one.

"Okay," he relented. Loathly. "Maybe one day, when you're ready, you could give the letter to someone else to follow up on?" he suggested, trying to find some middle ground.

But Kate coughed out a sound that was something between a scoff and an unamused laugh. "Give the only evidence I have in a case involving dirty cops to another cop?" She looked at him as if she was waiting for him to get the joke. He didn't. She shook her head. "I don't think so."

Shit.

"I thought you didn't believe Pulgatti's dirty cop theory?" He said. "I thought it was a story for - and I quote - any sucker willing to listen."

Kate smiled and Rick bit his tongue.

Shit.

It sounded like he was challenging her.

He wasn't. Of course he wasn't. He was trying to steer her away from temptation, not push her head first toward it.

"I don't believe it," she said with confidence. "Which would make it all the more satisfying to prove him wrong."

Shitshitshitshitshit.

"Kate-"

She grabbed his face, framed it with both hands and looked deep into his eyes.

"But I'm not going to. I told you, Rick," she said softly and slowly, making sure he heard every word. "I'm not doing this. I-" The soft smile that had graced her lips began to fade and heavy emotion flickered in the green of her eyes. "I don't think I can. Not right now, maybe not ever."

The anxious beating of his heart began to slow.

"But... if Pulgatti is right," she continued. "He seems to think that you could be next."

Rick shook his head. "I'm not in danger, Kate. I don't know anything."

"It's not a risk I'm willing to take," she said firmly, in a way that told Rick there was no room for negotiation.

She was walking away and, if he was smart, he would too.

Rick nodded. It was an easy term to agree to. If she could walk away from the possibility of finding her mother's killer for him then he could walk away from a story for her.

"Just promise me one thing?" he asked in an almost-whisper.

"Anything."

"If you do decide to-"

"I won't," she asserted.

"But, if you do, just promise me that you won't do it alone." He wrapped his arms around her waist, held her tight. "Promise me you'll come to me first. Before you do anything."

He wouldn't try to stop her, he just wanted to be there for her: the emotional support she didn't have last time. With a little luck, he could keep her from drowning in this.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

Chapter Text

Rick stayed with her as long as possible that morning, dreading the inevitable goodbye more than usual. They shared a cab to a little café in Alphabet City where he bought her a latte and a pastry. Then, he walked her the two blocks to the precinct. Across the road from the building's entrance was where they finally parted ways. He kissed her lips, so soft and tender, and then he watched as she disappeared into the brown-bricked building with little more than a smile and a wave in his direction.

She had seen the questions in his eyes, the desperate need to know exactly what was on her mind, but he respected her boundaries. He didn't push. And he hadn't pushed her in the days that had passed since. They hadn't talked about any of it: not Pulgatti, not Rick's novel, not her mother or the unsolved case that now haunted them both. No, she couldn't talk about any of that.

Another thing they hadn't talked about was the change between them that took place that night. To anyone else it was probably unnoticeable but, to them, there had been this undeniable shift. It was almost as if they were bound together by this experience. She had opened up to him in a way she hadn't with anyone else; let him in, let him see her at her most vulnerable. Not only that, she had allowed herself to need him. And he didn't let her down. He was there for her, supported her, cared for her. All without pushing for more than she could give him.

He never wanted anything in return; nothing more than just her.

The connection they had shared beforehand already had her questioning everything she thought she had known about fate, and soulmates, and happily ever after. But now... now she was certain that this man was it for her. Their souls were intertwined; he would forever be a part of her.

The thought filled her heart with warmth.

And fear.

But mostly warmth.

It had been over a week since she had (almost certainly) uttered those three little words to him. She hadn't managed to say it again since. She wasn't sure why; she felt it so deeply, yet the words always seemed to get caught in her throat. Rick hadn't said anything, though. He didn't make her feel bad about her inability to vocalise what was so obvious. Each time she stuttered and stumbled over the words, he would just smile like he knew exactly what she wanted to say, like he had no doubt - even without the words - about how she felt. Each time, he would hold her face in his hands and kiss her like he didn't care if she never actually said those words aloud again.

He just kissed her until the rest of the world melted away, until nothing else mattered: just them.

It was just past noon when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She had been staring at her computer screen with a frown on her face, struggling to focus long enough to finish filling out paperwork, when the welcomed distraction so easily garnered her attention.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and smiled as soon as she saw Rick's name.

How's work?

He'd told her he would be pretty busy this week with his writing so they hadn't been able to see each other as much as they would have liked to. Still, he checked in with her every day, whenever he had a chance.

I thought finally being medically cleared would get me out of the precinct a little more. It hasn't. I've been filling out forms for three hours now and I'm pretty sure I'm going cross-eyed. How is the writing coming along?

His reply was almost instant.

Splendidly.

She laughed quietly to herself. She knew his tone, even over a text, and could tell from that one simple word that his writing was not coming along splendidly. Before she could type out a response, another message came through.

You get a break soon, right?

An hour for lunch. I can take it whenever I'm ready.

She stared at her phone, watched the three little dots at the bottom of her screen as she awaited his reply. They disappeared and the message she had been hoping for popped onto her screen.

Feel like some company?

Meet me at Remy's in half an hour?

See you there :)

She pocketed her phone and looked up from her screen only to find the boys sitting (not even attempting to look busy) and watching her with smug grins plastered on their faces.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"You texting your boyfriend?" Ryan teased in a sing-song tone.

Esposito chuckled, seeming all too pleased with the teasing, and God she hated that it made her smile.

She felt like she was sixteen again; all giddy and smiley just at the mention of her boyfriend. Even at sixteen she would have had the self-respect to at least try to hide it a little bit. But she couldn't help herself; she didn't want to hide anything.

She rolled her eyes. "Like you can talk! I see the way your eyes light up when Jenny calls."

Ryan blushed.

"You're both pathetic," Espo grumbled. "What happened to miserable, brooding Beckett?"

Kate looked at him, defiance in her eyes. She could spill so many of her colleague's secrets right now: the way he showers Lanie with affection when no one else is looking; the I miss you already's that he would whisper each morning as they would part ways; the fact that he loved to be the little spoon to Lanie's big spoon. Kate had witnessed first hand just how pathetic Esposito could be when he was in love.

However, she decided to play nice. She'd let him keep his secrets, protect his macho reputation.

"She disappeared around the same time I stopped practically living with you." A satisfied smirk spread across her face at Esposito's shocked expression. "I'm sure that's just a coincidence," she added sarcastically.

Ryan didn't try to hide his amusement as he looked at his partner, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

Esposito didn't retaliate.

A file dropped to Kate's desk pulled her attention away from the boys. She turned to find Captain Montgomery staring down at her.

"You sure you're all good?" he asked, both concern and frustration evident in his voice.

"Yes, Sir."

He tilted his head toward the file he had dropped on her desk.

"You got a floater," he stated bluntly. "Discretion on this one is of the utmost importance," he advised before turning to head back to his office.

As she, Esposito and Ryan made their way toward the elevator, she pulled out her phone.

I don't know if you're a curse or my good luck charm. It seems all I needed to land a case was to make plans with you.

The elevator and parking garage were reception dead-zones, so she wasn't surprised that her phone didn't go off again until they had cleared the building. She didn't check the message until they had arrived at the marina.

Simultaneously happy and devastated to have been of service to you. Good luck catching your bad guy.

Can I make it up to you with dinner tonight? I should still be able to get out of here on time.

I look forward to it. Just let me know if something else comes up.

It was late, nothing was adding up and she honestly just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

With Esposito to her left and Ryan to her right, the three of them stared at the murder board as if they could intimidate it into giving them some clue that would crack this case wide open. It may have been delirium, but she could have sworn it was smirking back at them, taunting them. She'd never wanted to slap the smugness from an inanimate object before. Thankfully, her phone rang before she had the chance to do something really stupid.

"Beckett," she answered without so much as a cursory glance at the caller ID.

"Hey."

The voice drained the anger and frustration from her body and she jumped up from where she had been sitting on the edge of her desk.

"I know we never specified where home is, but I had assumed you were talking about your apartment."

"Rick, I'm so sorry."

"Did you have some other home that I don't know about?" he asked, a hint of humour in his voice.

She knew he was trying to assuage her guilt but one look at her watch was enough to ramp it up even more. 8:26pm.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"It doesn't matter," he insisted.

"It does." Kate sighed. "I got caught up in the case and lost track of time. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, I understand." There was a slight hesitation before he asked, "Do you want to reschedule?"

"No," she said definitively. She hadn't seen him since Sunday and, even though that was only three days ago, it felt like forever had passed in that time. "I'm leaving now. Give me, like, twenty minutes?"

"Don't rush," he said, firm but sweet. "Drive safe. I'll see you soon."

She tucked her phone into her pocket and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair, then looked at the boys.

"Go home," she instructed and they both nodded. "I don't think that security footage will be here until morning, anyway."

"They have my number," Ryan reminded her. "Said they'd call once they send it through, so I got it covered anyway."

She smiled her appreciation. "But you'll call if you need help," she said.

Ryan smiled and nodded. "I will call," he said. He waited until she was walking away to add a hushed, "Esposito," to the promise.

She flashed a grin over her shoulder. "See you both in the morning."

She, thankfully, managed to hail a cab fairly quickly.

She was only about five minutes away from home when she received another text from Rick.

Fate is really not on our side tonight. Gotta bail, Alexis in crisis. I really don't remember my teenage years being so intense. Actually, scratch that... they were.

Kate sighed and hung her head back against the seat. She had been really looking forward to seeing him.

I imagine your teenage years were full of trouble! I hope Alexis is okay.

As the cab pulled up outside of her building, she tucked her phone away, paid her fair and headed inside.

"Good evening, Miss Beckett," Teddy greeted as he opened the door for her.

She smiled politely, but rolled her eyes. She had told the man to call her Kate a dozen times before finally accepting that it simply wouldn't happen. The older man was lovely, and she knew that he meant no offense by denying her request for a less formal greeting, but it still felt odd being referred to as Miss Beckett by someone she interacted with on a daily basis.

"Good evening, Theodore," she replied pointedly. She couldn't resist.

She had eaten, showered and readied herself for bed by the time she received another text from Rick. She had just tucked herself into bed with a book when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her phone light up on her bedside table. With a smile, she picked it up.

I assure you, I was a perfect angel as a teenager. She rolled her eyes, then continued to read. Alexis will be okay. Nothing that ice cream and Monkey-Bunkey can't fix.

Her thumbs tapped away at her phone's keypad; she couldn't type quick enough.

Ah, the road kill.

You remembered!

She abandoned her book, tossed it back onto her nightstand in favour of talking to Rick.

Of course I remember. My imagination has created some pretty horrific ideas of what a Monkey-Bunkey is! Your answer didn't exactly give me any clarity.

Three little dots appeared at the bottom of her screen, then disappeared. She waited for their reappearance, but it didn't come.

She opened her book again, tried to read while she waited for his reply to come but she just couldn't focus on the words. She reread the first paragraph for a third time before her phone lit up and the book was, once again, hastily discarded.

Alexis might actually kill me if I told you about him.

She began to type out her response but another message came through before she could send it.

Completely unrelated, though: have I ever shown you my favourite photo of Alexis and I?

The text was accompanied by an image of a much younger looking Rick asleep on the couch with a tiny (and also fast asleep) toddler in his arms. Even if he hadn't told her who the child was, the red hair and dimples were instantly familiar. In the girl's arms - being held in almost the exact same way Rick had been holding his daughter - was a stuffed monkey that was almost the size of Alexis. The toy looked well-loved, like it had never been too far from the girl's side, and Kate put the pieces of the puzzle together. Monkey-Bunkey.

Cute Monkey, she replied. I think my heart has melted into a puddle. I definitely need to see more family photos!

I'll show you mine if you show me yours ;P

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head, but she couldn't stop the small chuckle that slipped from the very back of her throat. She had walked right into that trap! But, it was a fair request.

She opened the image gallery on her phone and scrolled back through the images. She only kept one family photo on her phone; one of her favourite memories from not long before her mother passed away. She hadn't shown it to many people. She sent the photo to Rick before she had time to talk herself out of it. Then, she took a moment to study the image as though she had never seen it before, to soak in every detail of her mother's face and her father's unbridled smile. She remembered the day fondly: the ice rink; the laughter; even the falls brought a smile to her face. Her father generally stayed behind the camera, this photo was one of the few she had of all three of them. She cherished it.

Several minutes had passed while she was lost in her memories, only drawn back to reality by the ring of her phone. She looked at the device in her hand and smiled when she saw Rick's name on the screen.

"You should be asleep," she told him, despite how much she wanted to hear the sound of his voice.

She hadn't realised just how much she had wanted to see him tonight, hadn't realised just how much she had grown used to his presence in this apartment.

"Soon," he promised. "I'm pretty tired but-" He hesitated, just for a moment. "I wanted to say goodnight first. Wanted to hear your voice."

Her heart skipped a beat, overjoyed by his admission.

"You have her eyes," he added. For a split-second, she was confused, until she realised he must have been talking about her mother. "And her smile."

She had heard it all her life but there was something about the way Rick had said the words - with such reverence and respect, as if he had known Johanna, as if he missed her just as much as Kate did - that had her emotions rising to the surface. This man had this extraordinary ability to make her feel less alone in her grief.

"Her stubbornness, too, according to my father."

They both laughed. Just a small but much-needed chuckle to lighten the moment a little bit.

"Can you tell me something about her?" Rick asked.

The request took her by surprise and she stumbled over her response. "I, uh. Like- like what?"

"Anything," he said, encouragingly. "You can tell me anything. I just- I would love to know her a little better, if that's okay?"

Tears welled in her eyes as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip.

"But only if you want."

His words were so soft as he tried to delicately persuade her to open up to him, to keep letting him in to this part of her life. No one else had done that for her before, they only ever saw the darkness and tried to keep their distance from it.

But Rick... Rick saw something no one else had: he saw light and he saw love.

"I'd love to know the story behind the photo."

She swallowed past the lump that had formed in her throat and summoned the strength to tell him all about that day.

"I was home for Christmas," she started, trying to ignore how raw her voice sounded already. "You know, I never would have admitted it at the time but I missed my parents so much while I was at school."

She heard Rick's huff of laughter, the only noise to come from his end of the line. He was otherwise quiet, listening so intently to every word she said. She had no doubt in her mind that he was soaking up each little detail she shared - how her mother was so graceful on the ice, how she was anything but, how her father spent most of the afternoon doubled over and almost in tears from laughing so hard - and locking them in to the vault of his mind, like he seemed to do with every little fact she shared about her life.

He was incredibly patient with her, too. Each time she would have to stop, to take a breath and regain control of her emotions, he would simply wait until she was ready to continue.

There was no pressure, no sense of obligation: she wanted to tell him these stories about her mother just as much as he wanted to hear them, even if the memories were bittersweet.

"Do you ever take Alexis skating in winter?" she asked once she finished reliving the memories with him.

"Yeah," he said, and she could almost hear his smile. "We usually go every year, around Christmas. She was a natural, of course. Was skating rings around me by the time she was six."

Kate closed her eyes and smiled to herself as she imagined the girl, much younger than she is now, playfully taunting her father. Oh, to be a carefree child again. Her nostalgic joy vanished, so quickly replaced by concern as she remembered why she was having this conversation over the phone, rather than actually being with Rick tonight.

"How is she?" she asked.

Rick sighed. "Ashley leaves for Stanford in a few weeks," he explained. "I'm still not entirely certain of what exactly happened today but it seems reality came along and burst their little love bubble. He thinks they can make the long distance thing work but she thinks it's only postponing the inevitable."

"I mean, statistically speaking-"

"Katherine Beckett!" Rick gasped, theatrically. "You're such a cynic."

"I'm a realist," she defended. "There's a difference."

"So, what? You think that just because it isn't easy that means it isn't worth the risk?"

"I think-" She paused. What exactly did she think? "I think that when the right person comes along, cutting your losses won't be an easy thing to do."

In the silence that followed her words, their implicit meaning rang loud and clear.

"Hey, Kate?"

"Yes, Rick."

"If it's not too late, would you like to come over?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

Chapter Text

The midnight breeze funnelled through the open window, cooling the sweat that beaded at the nape of Kate's neck and at her temples. She had tied her hair into a pony tail but thick strands had fallen loose and clung to her skin, so the small reprieve was more than welcome.

"Air con's broke just this morning," the taxi driver said apologetically, having seen her wipe the back of her hand across her brow in his rear-view mirror. "Sorry, ma'am."

She smiled at his reflection. "No need to apologise. These things happen."

The record-high temperatures didn't help, though.

She thanked the driver as he pulled up to the curb, and passed him more than enough cash to cover her fare. She grabbed her overnight bag and slipped out of the cab.

From the curb, she had a clear view into the lobby of Rick's building. She smiled when she saw him by the door, waiting for her, and she had barely made it across the street before he had opened the building's main door for her.

As she approached, the cold air from inside swirled and mixed with the warm air outside before settling over her skin.

"Relief," she sighed, stepping inside the airconditioned building.

Rick chuckled. "Bit warm outside," he commented.

She dropped her bag by her feet and turned to face Rick.

"Couldn't wait an extra thirty seconds to meet me upstairs?" she teased.

Secretly - or not so secretly - she loved that he had greeted her at the door; pyjamas and all. She loved that he was so shamelessly excited to see her even though they had only been apart for a few days.

"Another thirty seconds may have actually killed me." He closed the space between them, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Her arms looped around his neck and she held him close. "It's truly pathetic how much I've missed you," he whispered into the curve of her neck.

His words wrapped themselves around her heart and filled her chest with warmth.

"Trust me," she whispered back to him. "You're not alone there."

Rick pulled back, just enough to look deep into her eyes. "I'm glad."

His voice was low, rough, and she felt the warmth that encased her heart trickle down and pool low in her belly.

He leaned over, picked up her overnight bag and then - without removing his hand from her waist or his eyes from hers - began to move her backward. She giggled as they picked up the pace and moved clumsily through the lobby until they came to a stop in front of the elevator. He pushed the button rapidly, as if the more times he pressed it, the quicker it would come.

"You really did miss me," she noted with a hint of smug satisfaction in her voice.

The elevator doors opened behind her and he pushed, guiding her back into the carriage.

"Thirty more seconds and I can show you exactly how much."

He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers - not quite a kiss, just a teasing taste of what was to come - and when he pulled back, all too quick, she couldn't stop the sigh that escaped her.

He smiled, entirely too pleased with himself, and his grip on her waist tightened.

"Twenty-eight... twenty-seven... twenty-six..."

His countdown came to a sudden end the moment the door closed behind them. Between the sudden sensation of her mouth on his and the demanding slick of her tongue, he had completely lost his train of thought. Not that he minded. Not at all. He dropped her bag and his hands made their way up to cradle her head, to hold her close as he deepened their kiss and pushed her against the wall of the carriage.

She moaned against his mouth, fisted her hands in the material of his shirt when he pressed her back to the cool glass of the mirror.

Rick groaned. "I've been thinking about this all day," he admitted breathlessly before peppering kisses across her jaw and down her neck.

Kate moaned at the sensation of his teeth and tongue on her skin as he made his way to her collarbone. "Sounds productive," she said; a half-hearted jest.

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

He pulled back, framed her face with his hands and took a moment to just look at her. Big, brown eyes, so filled with desire; lips, so pink and plump from his kisses; her ponytail, slightly mussed from his touch. To him, she looked absolutely perfect.

"Thank you for coming over," he said with such earnest.

She smiled and shook her head ever so slightly. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Gravity shifted, pulling them from their trance and Rick took a slight step back before the doors opened up. On the off chance one of his neighbours happened to be headed out in the middle of the night, he figured they wouldn't appreciate interrupting what should be a private moment. He picked up Kate's bag and looped his arm, offering her his elbow.

"Shall we?"

She smiled, slipped her arm through his and allowed him to lead her toward the loft.

She took purposefully slow steps, inching her way toward the alleyway she was all too familiar with. She'd never managed to bring herself here in her waking hours but she visited regularly in her dreams.

It was an odd thing, really, to know that you're dreaming, despite how real it all felt. The winter chill that rolled down her spine; the smell of exhaust fumes that assaulted her as she weaved her way through the traffic jam that forced her to park a block away from the scene; the cacophony of horns and shouts that told her she wasn't the only one irritated by the inconvenience of it all. It all felt so true, she almost had to remind herself it's not.

As she crossed the road, she took a moment to steady her racing heartbeat, to take a deep breath and prepare herself for what she knew was waiting for her: her mother, dead. She had to push past a small group of pedestrians that were doing a remarkable job of pretending there wasn't a body mere feet from where they stood - talking and laughing about the latest Blockbuster release - and once she pushed her way through, there was nothing left to focus on other than her mother's lifeless eyes staring up at her.

The air around her grew thin. Or maybe it was too thick. She was breathing, but her lungs didn't seem to be working. It was a new feeling. Usually, she was filled with blinding rage or unrelenting waves of pain. She's never usually... scared.

"You should be scared," a familiar voice said, and she turned to find Rick standing on the opposite side of the alley, leaning against the brick wall with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

He looked as casual as one would expect had he been meeting her there for a coffee, not crashing a crime-scene. He pushed off from the wall and took three powerful steps toward her, his eyes never leaving her mother, not even for a second.

"It could easily be you laying there." Finally, he looked at her. "Or me," he added ominously.

"I warned you," a voice she didn't recognise called from the shadows.  A man. She couldn't see him but she couldn't shake the feeling that she knew who he was. "I told you to walk away before you got yourself killed, too!"

She turned back to Rick, determined to send him straight home with a warning to never return but before she could say anything, he fell into her arms. He tried to tell her something, but she couldn't hear him over the blood gargling in his mouth. They both fell; that was when she saw the man standing behind Rick with a bloodied knife in his hand and a menacing smile on his face. But the sun was in her eyes, the man was nothing more than a shadowy figure as he fled the scene.

She tried to call for help, tried to pull herself to her feet and follow the man, but she couldn't. She was frozen, unable to move or speak or do anything but wait.

Wait until she woke from this horrid nightmare.

It felt like an eternity had passed before the soft buzz of Kate's phone broke through her subconscious and pulled her from her dreamland. She silenced it before it had the chance to wake Rick up, too. They'd stayed up later than intended, catching up on everything: her case; his writing; Alexis and Lanie and the boys; anything and everything they could think of to keep the conversation flowing. They knew it was time to turn in for the night when they started talking about the weather but, even then, the prospect of sleep wasn't nearly as inviting as another round of immensely gratifying sex. She had hoped the physical and mental exhaustion would knock her out cold and keep the nightmares at bay but, evidently, she was wrong.

It was still dark out - the early signs of the rising sun still at least a half hour away - and she felt as though she hadn't slept a wink but, despite the overwhelming urge to send Ryan's call directly to voicemail, she begrudgingly slipped out of Rick's arms and tiptoed out of the bedroom before answering the call.

"Beckett," she grumbled.

Her best efforts to not sound irritated were apparently futile but Ryan didn't seem to mind. In fact, he barely even seemed to notice.

"Hey. So, that security footage came in last night," he informed her, speaking as though it weren't a ridiculous time to be calling someone. There was a puzzling vigour in the way he spoke; like he was one espresso away from a caffeine overdose. "I think I may have found something."

Kate frowned, her mind still too fixated on her lack of sleep to fully process his words. She pulled her phone away from her ear to double-check the time.

"Have you been up all night?" she asked him, slightly concerned.

"Nah, woke up to the neighbour's fighting again," he explained casually. "Couldn't get back to sleep so I figured I'd at least try to be productive. I've been watching these tapes for a little over an hour now and- sorry, I forgot how early it was. This can wait," he added, apologetically.

Kate looked over her shoulder, toward Rick's bedroom. It was all too tempting to crawl back into bed, curl up by his side and try to get another few hours of sleep. But she was awake now. And she didn't want to risk slipping back into that nightmare.

With a heavy sigh, she made her decision. "Just give me a chance to get some coffee?"

"I was just about to head out for some caffeine, myself." Not that he needed it, she thought. "I know there's a decent place just a few blocks from your apartment that does a killer almond croissant. I can swing by and pick you up, if you'd like? Have your coffee order ready for you?"

Even better...

"How do you feel about the coffee in SoHo?" she asked.

"Text me the address and I can be there in thirty minutes?"

"Perfect. Thanks, Ryan."

When she ended the call, she exhaled heavily and allowed herself a short moment to wallow in her tiredness. Usually, now would be when she'd head for the shower to help wash away that lingering fatigue - a quick burst of freezing cold water always did the trick, if all else failed - but she didn't want to risk waking anyone. For today, coffee alone would have to suffice.

"Kate?"

She startled at the soft voice behind her, and turned to find the source.

Alexis was standing at the bottom of the staircase, watching. It was dark - nothing but the moonlight illuminated the loft - but Kate could clearly see that the girl had been crying.

"What are you doing here?" the teen asked as she took a few cautious steps toward the kitchen.

She flipped on one of the overhead lights and they both had to blink at the harsh change while their eyes adjusted. In the light, Kate was suddenly very aware that, in her haste, she had grabbed Rick's clothes instead of her own.

"I'm just-" Kate looked toward Rick's bedroom and then back to his daughter, who began to rummage through the refrigerator. "growing alarmingly dependant on your father's company, apparently," she confessed quietly.

Alexis closed the fridge door and smiled half-heartedly as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. If she was at all bothered by the fact that Kate was only partially dressed - and in the shirt her father had worn to bed hours earlier - she didn't show it.

"Sorry if I woke you," Kate quickly added.

The girl shook her head. "You didn't. Just couldn't sleep."

"Everything okay?"

Alexis looked up from her glass and, for a second, Kate was so sure she was going to tell her something. Instead, Alexis nodded and hummed her affirmation.

"I know it's probably a bit- I don't know- weird but if you ever need someone to talk to-"

"I'm okay," Alexis insisted with a force smile. "Thank you, though. I appreciate you offering."

"Well, the offer is always on the table if you need," Kate told her. "But I won't push it," she added with an encouraging smile.

As Alexis sipped from her juice, seemingly lost in thought, Kate began to head back toward the bedroom but stopped after just a few steps, when Alexis called her name.

"Hey, Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever just feel-" Alexis inhaled deeply. "lost?" she finished, with a heavy sigh.

Kate considered, for a short moment, that she was out of her depth with this one. Alexis was emotional, vulnerable, and Kate didn't know the girl anywhere near well enough to be offering any sort of advice. But when Alexis looked up at her expectantly, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears, Kate knew she couldn't leave the question unanswered. It would have been all too easy to offer the girl a generic "you'll figure it out" and call it a day but it went against every fibre of her being to ignore an outcry for help. Especially one that came from someone she cared about.

"More often than I care to admit," she confessed quietly.

There was a short-lived shimmer of relief in Alexis's eyes. It cascaded down her cheek in the form of a single tear before being wiped away completely.

"How do you know you're heading in the right direction? I feel like the next step I take is crucial, like it will dictate which path I go down, but I-" She took a breath, stopped herself from going down the rabbit hole she'd more than likely spent the night circling. "I just don't want to make the wrong decision."

"The wrong decision about Ashley?" Kate asked before she realised she probably shouldn't even know about the Ashley situation.

That was all but confirmed when Alexis's expression morphed into a look of surprise. "Dad told you about that?"

"He was concerned," Kate defended.

She planned on telling Alexis that he didn't go into much detail, that he simply needed an unbiased opinion on the situation to know what his next step should be, but when the girl rolled her eyes Kate knew none of that mattered.

"He thinks I'm making a mistake," Alexis complained. When Kate didn't say anything, Alexis continued. "You agree with him?"

"It's not my place to have an opinion on your relationships, Alexis."

"But if it was, would you agree with my dad?"

Kate shrugged. "Not necessarily." Alexis tilted her head, obviously displeased with the vagueness of that answer. "I think it's easy to say what the right or wrong decision is when you're not emotionally involved. I think a lot of things would be easier if we all just ignored the emotional factors but that's not how life works. In the end, you're the only person who knows if you're making the right decision for you."

Somewhat appeased, Alexis nodded. "It doesn't matter, though. It's not even about Ashley anymore; it's about me. I'm about to start my senior year of high school and I have no idea what I want to do with my life."

"Have you talked to your dad about this?"

Alexis's posture stiffened, her mouth opened slightly as if she had just realised something.

"I'm so sorry," she apologised. "I'm sure the last thing you want to deal with right now is the meltdown of a spoilt little girl," she added with a self-deprecating huff of laughter.

"That's not what I meant," Kate began to assure her, but Alexis cut her off with the wave of her hand.

"It's fine," she insisted. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to get myself a snack and then I'll go back to my room and watch cheesy movies or something."

"Alexis-"

"Seriously." Alexis smiled at Kate and then walked over to the pantry. "Thank you for letting me whine for a bit. I feel much better."

And then she buried her head in the cupboard, searching for snacks while very pointedly ignoring Kate's presence.

With a heavy sigh, Kate resigned herself to the fact that she might have just royally screwed up by inadvertently making Alexis feel like she was being brushed off again, and headed back to the bedroom to start getting ready for work.

Against her better judgement, she crawled back into Rick's bed and curled up against his side.

She was fully dressed, ready to meet Ryan the moment he messaged her to let her know he was outside, but she couldn't resist one last hug.

"Thought you left," Rick mumbled sleepily as his arms snaked around her body and held her close.

She cupped his face and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

"I'm leaving now," she whispered, then smiled at the instant frown that formed on his face. "Gotta go to work."

"Quit," he said without thought. "I hear the stay at home wife thing is making a comeback."

Kate couldn't help but smile and shake her head at his unfiltered mumbling. "Is that what you want for me? To stay home all day cooking and cleaning for you?"

For me to be your wife... she pushed that thought to the back of her mind. Along with the question of why that hadn't filled her with the ice-cold fear any sign of commitment usually filled her with.

Rick opened just one eye to glare at her. "First of all, I do my own cooking. Secondly, cleaning is definitely not what I had in mind. In fact, the images in my mind involve getting very, very dirty."

He took her by surprise when he rolled her onto her back and closed his mouth over hers, swallowing her gasp as soon as it left her mouth.

"You're gonna get me all crumpled," she complained half-heartedly as his kisses roamed down the column of her throat.

"Sorry." Rick wrapped his hand around the back of her thigh and then rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that she was left straddling him. "Better?"

Her body melted against his. "Much."

And then she leaned down to kiss him.

"I have to go," she said against his mouth.

But even after the words came out, she made no attempt to leave. She deepened their kiss and rocked her hips against his when he moaned.

Right on cue, her phone beeped, alerting her of an incoming text message.

She placed her hands on his chest and forced herself upright. "That'll be Ryan."

"Come back tonight?"

"What about Alexis?"

"I'm sure she won't mind." Rick held Kate's waist to keep her steady as he shifted to sit upright. "She likes you. And that's a high honour because teenagers don't like anyone except for other teenagers and movie heart-throbs," he joked.

Kate forced a small laugh, but she couldn't erase the images of Alexis's sadness from her mind. Do you ever feel... lost?

Unfortunately, Rick misread her silence.

"If you don't want to-"

"No." She shook her head and pressed her palm to his cheek, traced his bottom lip with her thumb. "I want to. I just- she might not want me hanging around too much at the moment. I don't want to force my presence on her."

"I already know she's probably prefer to spend her Friday night with someone other than her dad."

He probably wasn't wrong. Still, she didn't want to push it.

"Just talk to her and make sure she's okay with it, yeah? If she would rather be alone, I get it." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "We can do something low key. Another movie night, maybe?"

Rick nodded enthusiastically.

"But only if she wants," she warned.

Rick smiled. "Yes, Boss."

Kate rolled her eyes and shook her head, but her smile beamed bright. "Talk later," she said as she climbed out of his lap.

"Love you," he called after her.

As she left, she blew him a kiss.

Chapter Text

Kate arrived at the loft a little after 6pm, carrying enough pizzas to feed a small army.

Rick had called earlier on and assured her that Alexis was thrilled - his words - by the idea of another movie night. Her only stipulation: she wanted pizza for dinner. He hadn't specified what toppings Alexis liked, hence the slightly extravagant order.

Veggie supreme, pepperoni and sausage, chicken and bacon, and a classic cheese. Kate figured all her bases were covered. Still, her stomach twisted nervously as she elbowed the door buzzer. She hadn't been this nervous since, well, since their first movie night. Not that she had alluded to being nervous that night - at least, she had tried not to - because Rick had been tense enough for the both of them! Between Rick's frustration and Alexis's disappointment, all Kate had to do for that night to be a success was keep them both distracted enough to not wallow: the movies had done most of her job for her.

Tonight felt different, though. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had messed up during that short-lived conversation in the wee hours of the morning. She wasn't good at this expressing yourself thing that the Castle's seemed to be so keen on, especially when it came to Alexis. She'd never dated a man with a kid before, let alone an almost-grown kid with real problems and emotions and opinions. One wrong step with Alexis and-

The front door swung open, revealing a much brighter looking Alexis.

"Hey!" the girl greeted enthusiastically, taking Kate by surprise. "You made it!"

"And I come bearing gifts," Kate replied after a beat, holding up the stacked pizza boxes.

"Perfect. I'm starving." Alexis stepped aside, allowing a confused (and still very nervous) Kate to enter the loft. "Dad's just on the phone with Paula."

Kate followed Alexis toward the kitchen and placed the pizza boxes on the counter while Alexis pulled plates from the overhead cabinet. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes searching until they found Rick in his office: phone pressed to his ear, brows knitted in frustration.

She tore her eyes away from him, back to his daughter. "Is everything okay?"

Alexis shrugged. "Something about Late Night. Or Up Late. Maybe it was The Late Late Show? I'm not sure. All I know is there was a scheduling mishap and now there's an open slot that Dad does not wanna take."

"Why not?"

"Because-" Rick's voice startled her: she hadn't realised he had evidently ended his call to join them. "Terri Cohen isn't interested in promoting my stories," he explained. He stepped up beside Kate, placed his hand on her hip and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Her stomach fluttered - a mix of butterflies, nerves and self-consciousness - still not used to how easy Rick found this casual intimacy, especially in front of his family. He had told her that he kept this part of his life away from his daughter, that one of his greatest fears was allowing Alexis to grow close to someone, to love someone only for them to leave, leaving him to mend not only his own broken heart, but his daughter's as well. Yet, here they were, acting as though Kate were some permanent fixture in their lives. Acting as if there was no way this could end badly.

She's invested now, too, that wicked voice in her taunted. One wrong move and you're responsible for not one, not two, but three broken hearts.

Kate pushed the thought to the back of her mind, determined to not let it win.

She smiled at Rick but kept her focus on Alexis, who rolled her eyes at the mention of Terri Cohen.

"Terri has the hots for Dad," she explained casually, as if the information were some kind of open secret and not a bombshell that had Kate's chest tightening with yet another very unpleasant feeling she'd rather not address.

"Oh, does she?" Kate asked in a playful, teasing tone. She was surprised it came out so convincing, given the images of a certain dark-haired TV hostess her mind had conjured for her.

Alexis nodded but Rick - unsurprisingly - saw right through Kate's act. She could tell by the way the corners of his mouth turned up into a smug (poorly supressed) smirk. But his hand on her hip squeezed just the tiniest bit; a small, silent reassurance.

"Did you get out of it?" Alexis asked her father.

Rick schooled his expression as he looked at his daughter. "Uh, no. Unfortunately not."

"Oh." Alexis slumped. "What are you gonna tell her, then? About..."

The girls words trailed off and her eyes darted to Kate and then back to her father, silently completing the sentence she didn't say out loud.

Rick shrugged but, before he had a chance to say anything, Alexis started shooting off rapid-fire questions.

"Who is she? What does she do for a living? Where'd you meet? Is it serious? Oh, I know! Is she the one? Are you gonna get married?"

"Okay, Alexis, I get the point," Rick said with a sigh. "You can stop now."

Alexis sighed. "She's ruthless, Dad. You have to be ready. If you hesitate for even a second, she'll pick your entire relationship apart. Going on her show this early in-" She waved her hand through the air, gesturing between the adults. "whatever this is, isn't the best idea."

"Yeah, well, she and Paula are... friendly, I guess, so they both think it's a great idea. And, I don't know, I guess I'll just try to navigate the inevitable questions as well as possible."

"Why would they ask about me?" Kate asked.

"We were at Conrad's party together," Rick offered as explanation, but Kate still didn't understand. Why do they care?

"We weren't there for very long. And we barely even spoke to anyone."

"That's kind of the point," Rick responded.

"Dad's a notorious show off," Alexis clarified. "And, usually, the company he keeps is more the type to seek out the cameras, not hide from them," she added with just a hint of disapproval in her tone.

Rick glared at his daughter - to which she simply tilted her chin up defiantly - before turning his attention to Kate. The calm, easy expression on his face melted into something much more serious as he spoke.

"They've kind of made it into a game. Like a puzzle: who can solve it first?" he explained. "They want to know who it is that has me-" Rick tilted his head to the side, as if sorting through all the words in his head to find the correct ones. "withdrawing from my usual social life," he finally decided on.

"I never asked you to withdraw," was all she could think to say. It was defensive - and not at all the point he was trying to make - but she didn't know what else there was to say. He was going on TV, to apparently talk about her, and there was nothing she could do about it. "Can't you just say you're single? That I'm just a- a friend?"

Hurt flickered across Rick's face before he forced a smile, but Kate saw it and a quick glance at his daughter told her that the girl had seen it, too. Rick looked at Alexis and tilted his chin toward the living room in a silent request that the girl obeyed instantly. She picked up the pizza boxes and moved out of earshot.

"Is that what you want?" he asked quietly.

What she wanted was for this to be easier than what it was. She wanted to claim him, to tell Terri Cohen - and everyone else, for that matter - that he was hers. More than anything, she wanted to be able to put herself out there, to put her heart on the line like that, to love him loudly and fearlessly and publicly. She never thought she would describe herself as cowardly, but that was exactly how she felt. She would rather run and hide, to protect herself, than to take a risk.

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I don't know," she mumbled into her palms.

"It's okay." Rick tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled her into his chest. "It's a lot. I know it's a lot, I understand if it's too much. I wouldn't be putting you in this situation if I had a choice."

Kate pulled back, just enough to look into Rick's eyes. "I know."

"If you want me to deny everything, I will. I just didn't want to not talk to you about it first, you know? I didn't want you to watch it and think what the hell!" They both smiled. "I would like to say that I am seeing someone," he added softly. "I can ask people to respect your privacy but I'd be naïve to assume they actually would. The last thing I want is to bring more chaos into your life, more than I already have. I know you hate the pictures and I know that they give you hell for it at work-"

"It's a little workplace hazing: nothing I can't handle and definitely not your fault."

"Regardless," he said firmly, letting her know he was serious. "I'll play this in whatever way you are most comfortable. The segment is taped on Thursday so you don't have to make a decision right now."

She nodded. "Thank you."

Rick combed his fingers through her hair, then pulled her forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. Kate closed her eyes and allowed herself just a small moment to enjoy the warmth of his embrace before pulling away again.

"While I have you semi-alone," Rick whispered. "I wanted to thank you."

Kate arched her brow. "For what?"

"Alexis told me that you talked to her last night."

"Oh." Kate looked over to the girl who was sitting on the floor by the coffee table, smiling at something on her phone. She looked much happier, much lighter than she had earlier. "Is she okay?" she asked, turning back to Rick.

He nodded. "She's... getting there. We talked things out today," he explained. "Turns out there's a lot more to this break up than I originally thought. She's questioning everything right now. But she said that talking to you really helped her."

"Really?"

Rick shrugged. "Something about being able to get it all out and clear her head."

Kate couldn't help the smile that lit up her face as relief washed over her. "I thought I had screwed up," she confessed.

"Why?"

But she just shook her head and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "It doesn't matter. Let's eat."

Movie roulette. This family had movie nights figured out: it was an art and they had perfected it.

Alexis connected her laptop to the projector and the screen before them (crafted from an 'old' shower curtain that looked like it had never actually seen the inside of a bathroom) came to life.

"This website is the best," the girl declared with a smile. "It has every movie ever made."

"That's impressive," Kate said as she stared at the screen.

Rick had piled up 'essentials' on the coffee table - water, soda, candies and popcorn - and was now busying himself with dragging out pillows and blankets for them all to ensure maximum comfort levels. It, apparently, didn't matter that it was still almost 80 degrees outside and they (even with the air conditioning on) definitely didn't need blankets.

"I've narrowed it down a little bit," Alexis continued. "Dad requested nothing too grotesque-"

"Not while I'm eating," Rick chimed in, absent-mindedly, as he set the blankets down on the couch.

"And I set the language to English only. I don't feel like spending my night reading subtitles."

Rick flopped down on the couch beside Kate and leaned close enough to quietly say, "Too hard to keep up with them with her head buried in her phone."

But his near-whisper wasn't quiet enough, given the girl shot him an unimpressed glare in response.

"No subtitles and nothing grotesque," Kate pressed on, trying to stifle her smile. "Sounds good to me."

"We get two vetos each," Rick informed her as Alexis pressed the randomiser button on her laptop screen.

Icons shuffled like a deck of cards until the first movie was chosen.

40 days and 40 nights.

"Veto!" Rick called without a second thought.

"Okay," Alexis said slowly, pressing the randomiser button again. "Moving on."

Lord of the Rings.

Kate used her first veto and both Rick and Alexis turned to her, mouths gaping and eyes narrowed, as if she had committed some horrendous crime.

"I'm sorry," she said with a casual shrug. "But Lord of the Rings isn't the kind of movie that you watch just one and then move on to something else," she defended.

Rick perked up. "So, what you're saying is that we should watch all of them tonight," he suggested.

Thankfully, Alexis interjected. "Dad, that's like ten hours."

He barely had a chance to glance at his watch before Kate spoke. "I am not watching ten hours of elves walking through some forest," she complained.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just reduce one of the greatest films of our time to elves walking through some forest," Rick said before taking a long, slow breath. Kate stifled her amusement - barely. "But you're right," he said to Alexis. "It's not a realistic feat for tonight."

"Another time," Kate consoled Rick with a gentle hand on his knee. "Maybe."

Eventually, they created their movie line up for the night: Space Jam, The Princess Diaries and Final Destination. It was an odd mix of entertainment, but no one seemed to mind. Even if they had, they'd used all their vetos.

They managed to polish off an impressive amount of pizza within the first half of Space Jam. Alexis had dropped a half-eaten slice of pepperoni and sausage back into the box, releasing a heavy yet satisfied sigh before she eased herself from the couch onto the floor. She and Rick shuffled, as if on autopilot, and he began to comb his fingers through his daughters hair: just like last time. Hair-braiding was such an integral part of their movie nights the act itself was more habitual than intentional.

And just like last time, as soon as Alexis's braids were tied, the girl turned to Kate with a bright smile and softly asked, "May I?"

Kate didn't object.

When the movie ended, Kate cleared off the almost empty pizza boxes. She managed to condense the leftovers to one box, then tucked it away in the fridge.

Rick used those few minutes to set up the next movie while Alexis curled up on the end of the couch, frowning at her phone as she aggressively typed out what seemed to be a very long text message. She had been furiously typing away for most of the evening, groaning and rolling her eyes at whatever messages she had been receiving, but Rick's knowing smirks had reassured Kate that everything was alright. If he wasn't concerned, she shouldn't be either.

As the opening credits for the movie began, Kate made her way back from the kitchen and settled onto the couch beside Rick. Alexis tucked her phone away and straightened up, focusing her attention on the screen.

"I love this movie," the girl said quietly, to no one in particular.

It had been her pick for the night. The moment the title was drawn from the website's database she had warned her father not to use his remaining veto. He promised, of course I won't, before leaning further in to Kate's side and whispering a very daring you still have a veto to use in her ear. Kate had laughed with him, but her veto remained unused.

"I don't think I've ever seen it," Kate replied to the girl's musing and two sets of wide, blue eyes fell upon her. She shrugged. "I really don't watch that many movies," she explained.

Alexis and Rick exchanged a glance. "That simply won't do."

"We must educate her," Alexis said, seeming to agree with her father's conclusion.

Rick snaked his arm around Kate's shoulders, garnering her full attention. "I hope you're aware that you've just signed yourself up for a lifetime of movie nights."

She shifted her hand up to where Rick's was draped over her shoulder, and laced her fingers through his. "Let's just get through this one first, yeah?"

But as the credits rolled into the opening scene, she couldn't ignore that small voice in the back of her mind that told her that a lifetime of this was actually quite appealing. The casual hours spent bouncing back and forth between comfortable silence as they watched movies and ate, and the easy, playful bantering with one another. Each smile, each joke, each minute shared together; it was all working to strengthen this connection between them.

The wasted time, doing absolutely nothing: it wasn't actually wasted at all.

Kate had noticed, over the hours, how Alexis's frowns had turned to shy smiles as she continued to allow her phone to distract her. So, it was no surprise when she turned to her father and asked if a friend could join them for the final movie of the night.

"I really don't think Ashley wants to spend his Friday night watching movies with your old man," Rick stated teasingly and both the girls looked at him, their wide eyes asking the same question: how'd you know it was Ashley?

Confidence that he had correctly guessed exactly who Alexis was talking about showed in the way his lips curved into a smug grin.

Alexis's questioning look faded into an expression that mirrored Rick's. "He does if it means spending more time with me before he leaves."

"Does that mean-"

The girl rolled her eyes and cut her father off mid-question. "We're... discussing our options."

"And you think the best time to have such discussion is over Final Destination?" he probed.

Alexis's eyes darted toward Kate and then to her hands, fidgeting in her lap.

"Oh." Rick turned to Kate. "I think we've just been kicked out of movie night," he said with a feigned pout.

Kate's eyes met Alexis's. The girl looked to be both apologetic and pleading.

"It's okay," Kate said softly to Rick. "I was getting tired anyway."

He looked at his watch. "It's not even ten."

"Some of us were up before the sun," she reminded him.

"Touché." After a small pause, he continued. "I should probably be writing, anyway."

"So he can come over?" Alexis asked, a glimmer of hope on her face.

Rick sighed. "It's okay with his parents?" Alexis nodded. "Then, yes, he can come over."

She grabbed her phone and, with a smile on her face, began to type out a message, presumably to Ashley.

"Only for the movie, though," Rick added quickly. "And then I'll take him home."

"Of course," Alexis replied without looking up from her phone.

Ashley arrived promptly, twenty minutes later, and Kate pulled a very reluctant Rick into his office. The door remained open and he sat at his desk staring out at the teens sitting on the couch rather than doing that writing he had said he should be doing.

"You don't have to stare so insistently," Kate said from her spot on one of the armchairs. She was reading, hadn't even lifted her eyes from the page as she spoke, but she could feel his spying. "The occasional glance in their direction is more than enough." He grunted a response and she dropped the book to her lap, chuckled and said, "Blink, babe."

As if following a command, he blinked once - enough to break his trance - and his eyes shifted to her. Then, he smiled. "I like it when you call me that."

Kate smiled, a soft blush blooming on her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something - she wasn't exactly sure what, though - but closed it again when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She and Esposito were covering the weekend shift, but they weren't expected to be on call tonight, so she wasn't sure who would be contacting her at this time of night. Curious, she pulled her phone from her pocket and read the incoming message.

Her heart sunk.

"Everything okay?" Rick asked after a few silent seconds.

Her thumbs hovered over her phone screen as she tried to think of some response, but they remained frozen as she struggled to string her thoughts into a sentence.

"Kate?" Rick urged when she didn't answer him.