595 BROOME ST

The moment they met, their lives became extraordinary.

Pre-series meeting AU. Entry for the 2015 Summer Ficathon.

1

The elevator glided to a stop, elegantly silent like the rest of the building. Kate hoisted the heavy box up against her side, the edge of the cardboard wedged over her hipbone to secure her grip around the bulky shape. The doors slid open with equal elegance and she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes as she stepped into the hallway. Her steps muffled by the thick carpeting Kate took in the tasteful crown molding that ran the length of the ceiling, the stylish lamps and mirrors decorating the walls, the gold-tinted floor-to-ceiling windows that spilled rich, warm light into the length of the hallway, giving the impression of an expensive hotel rather than an apartment building. Not for the first time Kate wondered what exactly she was doing here; if you had asked her not too long ago, this would've been the last place she'd have expected to find herself.

The box grew uncomfortably heavy in her arms, its perceived weight amplified by the awkward position where it sat shoved against her side so Kate halted, slowly maneuvered the cardboard around to rest pressed against her chest, her arms cradled around its sides and her fingers clamped tightly to the bottom edges. Her arms barely fit around its circumference, and now she faced the distinct disadvantage that she could neither see around or over the top of the box, but at least the weight was more evenly distributed and she felt more secure to make it to her door.

Maybe she should've let the guys handle it after all. Even though she had to dip into her savings, she had splurged and hired movers to handle the furniture, the heavy and bulky items, and then some of her guys from the precinct, in exchange for several large pizzas and six packs of beer, had helped haul the rest of the boxes, the contents of her closets and drawers, her dishes, her bedding. This was the last box of a few that Kate had packed with her most treasured items, and she just couldn't bear to let them out of her sight; had insisted she could drive over and carry upstairs herself. She trusted her co-workers but she felt safer making sure nothing would be lost or break on the trip.

Kate barely heard a sound, wasn't prepared for the impact when it came. Something – someone? – smashed into her side, knocking her off balance. She staggered, tightened her grip around the box, trying valiantly to keep her balance as if the cardboard would hold her upright but instead its hulking weight pushed her backwards. Her arms flailed out instinctually to catch her fall, the box crashing to the floor just as the back of her head impacted with the carpet. It was surprisingly hard for something that'd felt so comfortable beneath her shoes, she considered incongruously to the dissonance of shattering glass and shrieking. Shrieking? Was she making that noise?

She remained stock-still, her eyes squeezed shut, the breath knocked out of her, waiting for something to make sense. She could make out a voice, rapid and breathless and high-pitched, and rushed footsteps that stomped around, its vibrations traveling from the floor to her spine.

"Daddy!" Squealing, then footsteps again. A child? More rapid-fire syllables that floated just past her ears, fuzzy at first, then getting sharper, clear, too loud for her rattled brain.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking, this is all my fault, Miss, are you okay? Are you alright? Please I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please-"

"Alexis." A darker voice, firm, calm, though there was a trace of, what was it? Worry? She blinked, found her eyelids were in working order, and slowly opened her eyes. Two faces hovered above her, two sets of nearly identical sharp blue eyes staring down at her.

"Are you alright?" The man asked and she focused on his face, the vague familiarity that she couldn't place. "Do you know where you are?"

Kate swallowed, wet her lips. "Yeah," she croaked, her heart still hammering, only slowly calming from the galloping shock of her crash landing. "Just... wind knocked out..." She tried to sit up, weirded out by the focused attention of these two strangers when clearly she was fine.

"Here, let me help you." The man folded his hand around her fingers, curved the other behind her neck, his touch warm and dry and solid, shocking her with how safe she felt. Maybe she was out of it a little more than she realized, she thought sardonically. For just one moment she let her weight sink into his hold, allowed the stranger to lift her as she slowly sat up.

Her eyes dropped to her packing box that lay upended on the ground, the top folds having come open, shards of colored glass spilling out across the carpet next to her knee. She remembered the jarring sounds, now, the crash and clatter and she squeezed her eyes closed for a moment, fought against the swell of tears threatening behind her eyelids.

"I'm so sorry, it was all my fault," the girl lamented once more, a rush of words that slowly filled with the distinct sound of valiantly suppressed crying. "I was running, even though dad told me not to, but I was so excited because we were going to go to the new Harry Potter movie and he promised I could have popcorn too so I didn't see you and I'm so sorry I broke your things."

"It's... it's okay," Kate stammered, taking in the earnest girl with her fiery red hair and her cheeks flushed and those watery blue eyes. It was a platitude; she didn't mean it, couldn't mean it with the sharp shards of her possessions spilled across the hallway carpet and the weight of their loss settling onto her shoulders like boulders - but what else was she supposed to say faced with the earnest innocence of this kid?

"Alexis, go get a garbage bag and the small vacuum cleaner," the man instructed, and it felt like a rescue. The girl - Alexis - hopped to her feet, rushing for the opened door that Kate presumed must be their home, clearly eager to do anything to fix what she had caused. Not that there was much fixing.

The man's eyes turned back to her, his gaze focused intently on hers, deep blue eyes that seemed to look right into her, see everything she was always so carefully hiding, and to her own dismay, she felt her cheeks flush with warmth. His palm had skated from her neck to rest on her shoulder, his other hand still folded around hers and his thumb painting circles over her skin in a gesture that seemed completely subconscious and too familiar, intimate. Her fingers tingled. She tugged her hand out from under his, pushed herself up off the carpeted floor to get back on her feet, needing to reclaim her composure. He hovered close by her but let her stand up on her own, and it seemed entirely incongruous that she felt like she was missing the warmth of his touch.

His hand shot out as soon as she was solidly on her feet, smile widening eagerly while his eyes seemed to sparkle with what seemed a boyish combination of joyful and mischievous, and then he spoke and completely upended her every thought.

"I'm Richard Castle."

Richard Castle could easily admit that he was entirely baffled by the mysterious, beautiful stranger in his hallway. Her eyes flicked down to his outstretched hand, then back up to his eyes, a glint of what he would've bet good money on was recognition flashing in her eyes before she seemed to catch herself, wet her lips (oh, she had to stop doing that!) as she shook his hand, her grip strong even though the gesture almost seemed clumsy. "Beckett," she said, then, "Kate," still shaking his hand. "Detective."

"You're a detective?" His thoughts practically skittered to a screeching halt as he eyed the woman. That was so hot. He couldn't help but stare at her as she tugged her hand back to her side, an adorable flush skating across her cheeks but her eyes shone with strength, with the defiance of someone who'd likely had her share of disbelief, dirty innuendo or inappropriate commentary thrown her way.

"That is so cool!"

"Daddy I got everything-" His daughter chose this moment to interrupt, bounding back into the hallway, dragging a handheld vacuum in one hand, dustpan and broom and a roll of plastic garbage bags in the other. Kate's eyes tore from his, focused on his child instead who'd sidled up next to him.

"This is my daughter, Alexis," he introduced, ruffled his fingers through her silky, red hair that made his child scrunch her nose at him and wiggle away.

"It's nice to meet you," Beckett-Kate-Detective said, eyes skimming from Alexis back to him, looking a little insecure despite the phrase she spoke. "Both."

Alexis sank to her haunches, her little hands scooping at the jagged, thick glass pieces that had spilled from the cardboard box onto the ground, eyed the destruction her eagerness had caused with a sorrowful face.

"Careful; don't hurt yourself." Kate sank to her knees beside his daughter. "How about you hand me that dustpan, and hold open a garbage bag?"

Alexis nodded earnestly, did as she was asked while Kate started sweeping the larger shards into a pile. She did so slowly, almost reverently, and Rick watched her closely, noted the downcast eyes, the way her teeth snagged at her lower lip, the way sorrow seemed to have walled her in. The broken items had been valuable to her, had been guarded and loved. He watched this woman, this stranger clean up her treasures and he wanted nothing more than to fix it for her, even though it wasn't possible. It startled him, this valiant need, this intrigue, the surge of unbridled affection that rattled through him in equal measure.

Huh. That was new.

"Are you our new neighbor?" Alexis asked, startling Rick out of his reverie as he realized he'd been standing there like an imbecile. He hurried to join the two of them, carefully righted the upended, heavy box, winced at the cacophonous clatter of pieces that suggested more items had broken within the shell of the cardboard. Kate cast her eyes to his for a quick, wary glance at the unmistakable sound, then blinked, forced her attention back on his child.

"Yes," she nodded. "I live in 3 now."

"In Mrs. Houghton's place?" Her eyes met his.

"Uhm yeah, she... That was my grandmother." There was a story there, so much hidden in the depths of this woman's eyes.

"Your grandma? She was nice. She gave me sweets sometimes. But we've never seen you before. Didn't you go visit? My grandma visits aaaall the time," Alexis chattered, rolled her eyes in a display of typical ten-year-old wisdom and completely oblivious to the tension rattling the woman's lithe frame.

"Alexis." Rick broke his child's swell of words, short and firm and Alexis closed her mouth, her eyes flicking to him warily.

"I should get going." Kate rose to her feet, carefully not meeting his gaze as she reached for the box.

"Please, let me." Rick quickly hoisted the cardboard into his arms to cut off any potential refusal. "It's the least I can do."

She stared at him, fingers kneaded together as she seemed to mull over his proposal, but at last she nodded. "Okay." She fumbled a key from within the pocket of her jeans, led the way toward her door that was further down the hallway across from his.

"You can leave it here." Kate pointed to the floor by the doorframe, so he set down the box, careful not to jostle the contents once more. He would've preferred carrying it inside for her, wouldn't have minded a glance at her place either, but he understood a clear instruction when it was given, and she didn't know him. Not to mention she was a cop.

"You guys are gonna miss your movie," she pointed out when he was still just standing there, feeling a little speechless, a little hopeless. It's been a long time since any woman had left him so tongue-tied. He looked for his daughter who was standing in the middle of the hallway, still holding the garbage bag with the glass shards, patiently waiting for him with those serious, guilt-filled eyes. He nodded, turned back for Kate.

"It was really nice to meet you," he said, smiling at her while he held out his hand once more. After an interminably long moment she slid her slim hand into his, her touch warm and tender and leaving him just a little yearning, and then he walked away.