Unasked (Team Castle, Ch. 6)
Title: Unasked (Team Castle, Ch. 6)
Characters/pairings: Kate Beckett/Rick Castle
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: It’s the kind of question that can’t be unasked.
Spoilers: none
Read edited version here.
The first time it happens is during a hectic day of shopping. They've just hit BCBG and picked up a few cardigans for Martha. Now they're in Barney's. Castle's insisting, "You should go find some more of those ruffly shirts you like. Or maybe something with a zebra pattern."
“Richard, you’re enabling me. Why on earth would I need more zebra stripes?” Martha says. Her speech is still slurred, ten months after the stroke, but her laugh is the same.
“You can never have enough striped shirts. They’re slimming,” Castle says firmly. “Alexis, Kate, back me up here.”
Beckett and Alexis exchange smirks and don’t answer. Martha sighs at both of them. “Come on, dear. Let’s go find me something else that’ll blend in on the veldt.”
Alexis obligingly grabs the wheelchair’s handles from her father and pushes off toward the blouses, weaving her way through other shoppers. As they stroll behind grandmother and granddaughter, Beckett says, “Castle, you know how much you spent in the last store?”
“I do.” He sighs, but there’s a fond look on his face as he watches Martha roll her eyes at one of Alexis’ choices. “My credit card is smoking and I’m missing the football game, but seeing her laugh is worth it. Besides, there’s only so many times we can take her to the park or the Met.”
“She does love her shopping,” Beckett agrees, smiling at him.
He smiles back. His eyes look very blue with the shirt he’s wearing. “Thanks for coming today, Kate, really. I know you’ve probably got better things to do on your day off than traipse around Madison Avenue with us.”
She does, but at the moment she can’t remember them. “It’s been fun, actually. And I found that scarf I’ve been wanting.” She slips away into a corner to examine the stitching on a leather trench coat.
“I know Mother’s happy you’re here. She likes having you around. We all do.” He’d texted her earlier in the week while she was away at a professional development seminar: Alexis refuses to make spaghetti without you. Hurry back, I’m starving. And a Miss you, tacked casually onto the end where it would sneak past her defenses.
Kate doesn’t answer him. She selects the proper size of jacket, holds it up against herself, and steps over to a mirror. “Think this’ll fit?”
Castle moves up behind her. His hands close around her shoulders and he meets her gaze in the mirror. At his expression, she feels a rush of heat go through her body. What Castle’s disguised behind years of flirting is plainly visible in his eyes-not simply desire, but something stronger. Slowly, he slides her coat off and reaches around to take the hanger from her, fingers deliberately brushing hers in the process. Just as slowly, Beckett wraps the black leather around herself as he watches. Her heart is racing. She delays to tie the belt before she locks eyes with him again in the mirror.
“It suits you,” he says. “It really fits. You fit.”
“I fit?”
“Yes. You do.” He’s so close right now, head lowered over her shoulder. “You fit here, with us. One of the family.”
“Oh, now that I’ve braved Madison Avenue with you on a weekend? Is that a hiring requirement for Team Castle?” She tries for a joking tone.
“That and more.” Rick moves his free hand to flatten against her stomach. “You stayed with us all year. Any other person would’ve left us to fend for ourselves.”
Thinking back on the past ten months, she can’t argue with that. A history of loyal behavior. Subject is dangerously committed. She realizes she’s leaning into him, feels both the sharp price tag and his breath against her neck.
“Don’t go anywhere, ever,” he whispers. “Katharine Beckett.”
Kate’s eyes pop open. She must have heard that wrong. “Did you just ask me . . . in the middle of Barney’s . . . ”
His eyes register surprise, maybe a little chagrin. But he looks steadily back. “Yes.”
They stare at each other until Alexis calls them over to give their opinion on Martha’s latest frilly shirt. Beckett shucks the coat off and they walk between the clothes racks in silence.
When they catch up with Martha and Alexis, Martha takes one look at their expressions and nods knowingly. That woman sees far too much. Martha pulls her son aside for a moment. His face is impassive when she lets him go. Without further comment, he gets behind the wheelchair and steers her toward the checkout lane.
After Rick pays for the purchases, they make for Fred’s to eat, Alexis pushing Martha’s chair across the wood floor. Rick hangs back.
“Kate-”
“I can’t, Castle,” she says, and isn’t sure whether she means Talk to you right now or Process that thing you just said.
He lets her go.
* * *
Four days later, it happens again.
Dinner, she thinks. This was supposed to be just dinner. With the family, no less, but Martha and Alexis are nowhere in sight. Bet he didn’t have to ask Martha twice. Knowing her, she probably suggested this.
Thankfully, no candles are in evidence. If there’d been candlelight, she’d have shot him. But there’s just Rick and the chicken parmesan he cooked for her-which is fantastic, incidentally.
She probably shouldn’t have come so soon after what had (or had not) happened in Barney’s. But no, here she is; here he is. And she doesn’t want to leave now that dinner’s over. Which is why she is leaving, of course, and why he’s trying to convince her to stay for Harrison Ford Action Night. She’s admitted to having seen Raiders of the Lost Ark only once when she was a kid and now he won’t stop extolling its virtues.
“It’s a classic moment! The guy’s all like this with the sword”-he twirls the newly-rinsed serving spoon in one hand, then pulls an imaginary gun out with the other-“and then kaBLAM!” He holsters the gun. “Come on, you’ve got to stay for Indy.”
Beckett carries her plate over to the sink. “Are you going to behave yourself? Last time you spilled my soda. Down my shirt.” She’s not entirely convinced it was an accident.
Castle pretends to leer at her. She gives him the Beckett eye roll, but it’s mostly for show. He’d had to go out of town to give a lecture series at a university-and wasn’t that enjoyable, picturing him holding forth among a group of enraptured coeds. That plus the two-day seminar she’d been at last week adds up to quite a few days without seeing each other. He didn’t waste any time inviting her over when he got back.
“Come on, Kate,” he says, edging closer and turning that irrepressible twinkle up to stun. “You like me because I’m a scoundrel.”
She restrains herself from responding with I happen to like nice men because she knows how that scene ends. “Fine. I’ll stay for Indy, because I like Harrison Ford. Satisfied?”
“Very.”
The movie’s fun. She remembers bits and pieces of it from a slumber party when she was ten; it’s nice to see how everything fits together. During one of the expositional scenes, Castle does an elaborate yawn-and-stretch. Kate snorts as his arm lands behind her shoulders.
“What?” he says, playing innocent.
“That’s it? That’s your move? Really, Castle, you could learn a thing or two from Dr. Jones.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“I know so.”
Her only warning is the flick of the remote as he mutes the sound. Then he half-twists, gathers her to him, and covers her lips with his. She’s gasping a little when he breaks contact.
“How was that?” he asks.
“Ah-respectable.”
“Just respectable?” Rick leans in again. “And that?”
“Not too bad, I guess.”
He sighs and sits back, arm firmly around her. “You’re a hard woman to impress.”
“I have high standards.”
“I know.” Rick’s mouth twists a little. “You’re not the sort of girl a guy propositions or proposes to in a department store.”
The smile slips off her face. About that...
He turns to look at her. “Kate, before you say anything-I want you to know that while it was not the proper place or time, I meant what I said. About ... you know ... forever.”
Oh, dear God, he really was serious. Normal people admit they’re friends long before bringing up little things like marriage proposals, not after.
He continues, “It just feels natural. And I think it would be ... God, Kate, you know I’ve never made any secret about how I feel about you.”
She recalls their first case, when he leaned in close and she could feel his body heat. She remembers the thrill of repaying him in kind at the end of the case. “No. You haven’t.”
“I also haven’t gone out with anyone in months. Some of that’s because of my mother. A lot of it’s you. I look at other women and they don’t compare.”
Kate can’t resist. “You look at other women?”
“Purely aesthetic appreciation,” he promises her. “Not one of them has had your intelligence or your compassion. Or your ability to throw me around with one finger. I’d have made a move a long time ago if I hadn’t known you’d slam me into a wall.”
“Wise.”
“I thought so. But I’ve been reluctant for other reasons.” He shifts a little and looks at her, serious. “When I see something I really like, I get eager to commit. It’s how my exes roped me in. Meredith, Gina, a few others. Got too infatuated too fast; I couldn’t see that things wouldn’t work long-term with any of them. So I stopped being like that.”
On the screen, Nazis are melting and screaming. Neither of them are paying attention.
“And once Alexis came along, that complicated things. All this-” He swept a hand through the air, indicating Richard Castle, ladies’ man-“is a defense mechanism, according to the therapist my mother bribed me into seeing once. Although he also said my relational difficulties were due to maternal-never mind. Anyway, it is a defense. Alexis knows no one’s going to try to be her new mom, and I don’t have to deal with all the drama of a long-term relationship.”
“But . . . ?”
Rick shrugs. “While casually dating half of New York City can be fun, it’s like living on cotton candy. With Alexis growing up and going off to college soon, and seeing my mother deal with her stroke without a husband to help her-lately I’ve been realizing I still want something permanent. With rings and everything.”
She tries to reconcile everything he’s just told her. “But you’ve already been married twice. I thought you were allergic to it.”
“Thought I was too. That was before I met you. Kate, I don’t want to keep waiting for the rest of my life for you to call and say there’s been a murder.” He reaches out and traces a finger across her cheek. “There are things I want with you. The newspaper in the morning. Takeout picnics. Embarrassing Alexis by making out in the kitchen. Yelling at kids to get off our lawn when we’re eighty.”
He pauses. “I know I’ve sort of asked the question already, and it can’t be unasked. So I want to do it right, the way you deserve. Would you be okay with that? Maybe not now, but in the future?”
She’s silent for a long moment. “I need time to think that over. Marriage is a huge deal to me.”
“Marriage itself or the thought of marrying me?”
“A little of both, maybe.”
“We could go out for a while, if you want.”
“I . . . maybe.”
Rick looks at her earnestly. “We’d work, Kate. Trust me. You keep me grounded and I make you lighter. Whether we’re solving a case or intimidating Alexis’ new boyfriend, we do it better together. But I’m not going to rush you-however much you want to give me, however slowly, I’ll take.” He smiles. “Anyway, since I’ve been married before, I might be willing to show you the ropes when you decide you’re ready.”
The moment teeters on the edge of innuendo and emotion in a reassuringly familiar way. “When I’m ready, I might let you know. And you know what I’m ready for right now?” She leans forward.
“What?”
“Star Wars.”
After switching the movies, he sits down next to her and drapes his arm around her shoulders again. Beckett settles into him as the Star Destroyer rumbles into view. She tells herself there’ll be time later to absorb both his confession and their apparent pre-engagement. But the thought keeps creeping back into her mind.
Richard Castle, notorious womanizer, is that serious about her. It’s terrifying and flattering.
* * *
The third time, it’s actually Alexis. They’re out for coffee and shopping when the conversation turns.
Alexis isn’t usually subtle. It’s always clear when she’s trying to manipulate her father, mostly because she’s manipulating him for his own good and wants him to know it. She’s not subtle now either. “When are you and my dad going to figure things out?” she asks briskly.
Caught off guard, Beckett stalls. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.” Alexis sips the remnants of her hot chocolate serenely.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you two obviously love each other.”
“Love is a-”
“Strong word, I know. But consider.” She holds up a hand and ticks off her points. “You’ve been around us long enough to know that we all like you. You and Dad have known each other for years; you trust each other; you’re good for each other. And after all this business with Gram, it’s pretty clear you’re not going anywhere. So what’s the problem?”
I am getting advice from a teenage girl on my love life. With her dad. ”It’s ... complicated, Alexis. Maybe once you’re older you’ll-”
Alexis interrupts again, sounding exactly like her grandmother. “Pardon my French, but that’s merde. You like each other; you’re both single. It’s not complicated.”
Beckett gapes. She hears herself say, “Are you aware your father has sort of proposed to me and also asked me out?”
“I am. And I’ve encouraged him to keep asking until you say yes.” Alexis drains her cocoa and sets the cup down precisely. “I hope you can figure out how to un-complicate things at some point in the next few months. Because you and Dad need to stop dancing around things and playing eye tag. It’s ridiculous.”
“Eye tag. Right.”
Alexis rises and gathers up their cups. “I’m gonna go throw these away and find the restroom. While I’m gone I want you to think about how you’re going to say yes next time, okay? Then we can decide what store we’re going to next!”
Beckett buries her face in her hands.
* * *
The fourth time is when Esposito comments to Ryan out of nowhere, “So you coming to the wedding?” and Ryan says without missing a beat, “Castle and Beckett? Wouldn’t miss it.”
Beckett leaves the room at a dignified pace and calls Lanie down in the morgue. “They’re conspiring against me,” she moans.
“Sorry, baby,” Lanie says. “Listen, are you and Big Rick gonna hook up any time soon? ’Cause I’ll be down two hundred in the pool if you don’t get something going by next month.”
“Lanie!”
“Hey, I’m just saying. And remember, I’ll need details when it happens.”
“Just . . . let me know when you get prints off that body,” Beckett says. She hangs up, sensing Castle approach.
“Don’t even think about it,” she says.
“About what?”
“Anything.”
He pats her back. “Rough day?”
“You could say that.”
“Can I make you a coffee?”
“God, yes.”
“Take you out for dinner?”
“ ... No.”
He’s going to keep trying, isn’t he?
Author’s note: This chapter was incredibly hard to write, which is why it’s taken so long to post (and why it is so long; a lot of stuff had to be jammed in here). Many thanks to rocketgirl2 for my first-ever beta-you are awesome! :-)