Alphabet Soup

Disclaimer: I still don't own it, and they're way more evil than me

AN: This was written two years ago as part of an older unfinished story, but in view of tonight's impending episode, this seemed like the perfect time to pull this one from my own pile of alphabet soup and post it.

For CB: Oh the fun we shall have, the trouble we shall make. Until then, you remain my partner in crime

Even as she stood there in that room, she found herself wondering how it was that she'd managed to get here. How she'd managed to come this far. How they had managed to come this far. The road had been long, but also uneven and unfinished in places. Not everything was in place the way it needed to be just yet.

But then, she had learned a few things over the last months. Over the last several years really, if she were honest. Over her time with him. If everything were finished, if all the pieces were in place than what would be the point of continuing the story? That was the question he would ask of her. She would phrase it differently. If everything fell into place, what would there be left to go on for? What puzzles would there be left to solve?

And so they had made their way down their own imperfect road. And now they were here. True they weren't here together at this particular moment, but that had been by choice. Her choice actually. And he had, in typical fashion, gone along with the request. Because he had seen through her, as she now knew he always did. Seen her need for one last bit of time alone, one last bit of space.

But now, she found herself here alone with more of her thoughts than she could have possibly imagined. She couldn't sleep, and while that wasn't new for her, it certainly wasn't helpful under the present circumstances.

She thought about changing her mind. But she knew, that while he would probably let her - heck, he would enjoy letting her - she would never hear the end of it. Not from him, and certainly not from their friends. But, if she couldn't take back this particular poor choice as she had so many others, what was she going to do to keep herself together for the last hours of self-imposed solitude?

Maybe she could go and see him, without really seeing him. Talk through the door like they sometimes did in those scenes in cheesy old sitcoms and movies. No, that was only more likely to get her mocked then changing her mind would have done.

There was nothing in the rules she realized, reasoning quickly, about texting one another over the phone, was there? And at least that could be kept private. No chance of her being caught out in the middle of the night standing in the hallway. Much less chance that her friends would discover what she was up to. Yes, that would work.

She made her way over to the bed which was, to her mind, much too large, at least for tonight. She sat down with her legs tucked under her and picked up her phone. As she waited, wondering where to begin this particular line of conversation, the phone buzzed and vibrated in her hand. A small alert opened on the face of the device.

No way. He had cracked first. On the one hand, she almost wanted to tease him about it. But then on the other, she was so glad to be spared the awkwardness of opening the conversation, that she just couldn't bring herself to manage it.

She tapped the screen quickly, opened the message and read it. It was a single question, and she rolled her eyes at the contents almost immediately.

"You aren't sleeping are you?" It read.

She sighed, but smiled to herself. She knew that he'd never change, and secretly she was glad of it. She leaned over the phone as her fingers danced over the screen, and then sent back a reply.

"Don't mother hen me tonight, Castle."

The response took literally seconds to come back.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Promise. But I know you, Detective. Well enough to know you wouldn't be sleeping, with or without caffeine."

She grinned. Busted. Again.

"I'm going to go stir crazy by myself here tonight," she sent back.

The phone beeped and vibrated again.

"No you won't. Don't worry, I could never let that happen. What kind of partner would I be?"

She smiled, because he couldn't see her and she was allowed to smile like this when he couldn't see her, even if she did know that the current line of conversation meant he was up to something.

"What are you plotting?"

When the next response came through she literally fell backwards on the bed with laughter.

"Not tonight dear, I have a headache. Besides, it's still Gina's job to harass me about manuscripts."

She rolled her eyes and groaned out loud. "That was bad, Castle, just bad. Even for you," she said aloud to the empty room.

The phone vibrated again, surprising her because she hadn't sent him anything yet. She sat up again picked up the phone, looking down at the screen.

"I can see that eye roll from here, Kate."

"You can not." She sent back furiously.

His response came back almost instantaneously. "You want to bet on that?"

Now she was laughing all over again, and grateful for perhaps the millionth time for her charming, persistent, and perceptive partner.

She got another text before she could send a reply again, and when she picked up her phone this time she found herself staring at it with renewed interest.

"There's a present waiting for you, outside your door," it read.

"Rick."

She fired back immediately. It was a simple, single word. A 5 character warning. And despite the fact that it was one she was secretly hoping he would ignore, there was certainly a part of her that was relieved when his answer came back.

"You can stop worrying. It isn't me. Just a couple of old friends."

Well, now that was entirely unexpected. She was still wearing a robe, so she felt confident enough to at least check the door. She padded her way across the room, and carefully looked out the peep hole. She was surprised to find that there is no one standing there. But as she looked down toward the ground in the hallway outside her door, she spotted a large paper wrapped package. It wasn't showy at all. Just the opposite, actually. A large rectangle wrapped in brown paper. "What in the world…" she wondered out loud.

She stepped carefully out into the hallway, and bent carefully to pick up the package. Quickly, she glanced from side to side down the hallway to see if she could catch sight of him disappearing back behind his door. But, if he was the one who left it here, he must have done so before he sent her the message, because he was long gone now.

When she tried to lift the package it was so unexpectedly heavy that it sent a rush of air out from between her teeth. Good Lord what was in this thing? She hauled it back through the door, then laid it on the bed with a resounding thud before climbing in after it. Back in her former position against the headboard, she picked up her phone again and fired off another message.

"What did you send me? Bricks?"

He must've been waiting with the phone in his hand, and she suspected that he might even have had his message halfway typed out before he received hers, because it came almost as soon as she is sent her own.

"Just open it."

So typical. "You need some new lines, Castle. I've heard that one too many times before."

This time, the pause before his reply seemed unnaturally long. And when it came, she was wholly frustrated by it.

"…"

She groaned again. Okay, so that was how he wanted to play it. Clearly, she was going to get no response of substance until she had opened his package. Fine then. She dragged the package closer to her, and then sat for a moment with it sitting in front of her legs. And then, because he wasn't there to watch, much less for her to enjoy annoying him with it, she ripped the paper off in record time.

What she found caused her to raise both eyebrows in surprise. There were five thick spiral-bound books held together by the most enormous rubber band she could ever remember seeing. Underneath the band before the cover of the first book was a note. She forwent the text messaging for now, and pulled the note from its resting place.

Dear Kate,

I remember Ryan complaining that he didn't know what to get Jenny for her wedding present. At the time, I had pretty much decided that I agreed with him. After all, it's a pretty heavy thing to consider. What do you get for the person who is giving you everything? But then, over the last several months it became clear to me that there was really only one thing that would ever be appropriate for me to give you tonight.

I know that we've talked before, at least a couple of times about the bits and pieces of my work that most people never see. It's really little more than alphabet soup. Notes, phrases, observations, thoughts and scenes. Pieces that don't quite fit the puzzle. I'm not sure how it works for other people, but I know that I never throw out any of my alphabet soup. Because even if there is a piece that doesn't fit today, there's a chance that somewhere down the road – tomorrow, next week, next month or ten years from now when that seemingly useless shard of information, or that misplaced phrase will become the piece that makes the next story make sense.

And, while I'm not one to usually share this sort of information with anyone, the truth is that all of my words belong to you. It's been that way forever, I think. So, tonight I leave you with a pile of alphabet soup. Make of it what you will, or make nothing at all. It is written for you, after all.

Always yours,

Rick

Within seconds, she was swiping furiously at tears. Then, her eyes found their way to the cover on top of the first volume in her hands, and her expression transformed in an instant.

ALPHABET SOUP

Shards of a Story in Five Not Quite Books (So Far…)

By Ricard Castle

She was grinning like an idiot. She knew this, but she was far beyond caring. This was what he did to her now, and she closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that he would never, ever stop.

She flipped the cover open and went straight to the first page. Almost immediately, she was thoroughly and completely charmed. It was exactly as he described it. Bits and pieces — small things that haven't found a home since that first novel. It was the one she liked the best, she couldn't help it, and he knew that. She was drawn into the words, even the hastily scribbled margin notes in his familiar handwriting.

The first several pages of this particular volume were especially fascinating. She remembered now that he told her about writing pages upon pages immediately following their encounter at his launch party.

He didn't know much as he was writing these pages, she knew. He was still feeling everything out. Feeling her out. Still getting a feel for the voice and mannerisms. For the things that drove her, the ones that it had always seemed before as if he knew them from the moment he set eyes on her. These were the pages from before he knew about her mother's death. The ones before he decided to turn Nikki down that same path.

It was so many wonderful things all at once, that she had trouble processing it all at first. It was imperfect and unfinished. It was a series of disjointed pieces, parts of the puzzle that not even their combined skill could slide collectively into a whole. But it was real, pieces of Rook and Nikki, of Castle and Kate. It was theirs and them all at once.

She found herself lost in the words just as she was on the first day that they met. So lost in his ability to tell a story even without the story, that she nearly missed the phone when it vibrated with incoming message again from were it lay the bed.

"Are we all settled in?"

Of course he had known that she would get distracted, and forget where she was. Of course he had.

"Very. I could never give you anything so wonderful."

She sent the admission before she had time to let her inner critic pull it back. She was trying her best now, to always remember to do that. With him, at least, if she was not willing to do so with everyone else.

This time her phone didn't vibrate with an incoming message. It rang instead. She stared at the phone as if it was some sort of alien object. Was talking breaking the rules? She wondered. Oh God wasn't like she was on duty. What the hell? She taped the green button on the screen and connected the call.

"I'm not entirely sure this isn't cheating," she said in place of greeting.

"Your own fault," he returned, his voice completely unconcerned. "Stop being ridiculous. I'm already getting the best gift in the world. I already have."

She didn't say anything to that, but she suspected that he'd already heard the slight catch in her breathing.

"Kate," he said, drawing the word out with exaggerated patience.

"What?" she asked, as she tried to sound irritated but failed miserably.

"You already know that I will sit on the phone all night if I have to."

She laughed a little at that, not doubting his ability to do exactly that for even a second. Richard Castle was nothing if not persistent, and years of partnership existed to prove it. "I know you would. I promise not to make you have to, though."

"Good for you," he said, his voice exaggerated to the point of almost ridiculous excitement. For some reason, it drew a specific moment to mind within her brain. The two of them at the shooting range that first year. She bit her lip, and flipped the volume in her lap back a few pages. She thought she'd seen a bit about that day in here just a moment ago. She found what she was looking for by skimming the page and then sighed with satisfaction.

She could hear his laughter through the connection. "What?" he asked.

She shrugged even though he could not see her. "When you said that just now," she said, mirroring his earlier exaggerated patience. "You reminded me of something that happened several years ago. Something else you said. And then, I found a reference to it a couple of pages back from where I was reading."

"You do like it," he said. His delight at that caused another ridiculous grin to break out across her face. Because he sounded so surprised.

"It's wonderful," she said lightly, easily. "Like you."

"Like us."

He always had the better words. "Yes, exactly."

"You really should try to get some sleep," he said softly. She didn't have to bother accusing him of being a mother hen, she could hear the concern in his voice plainly without it.

"I promise to try," she said.

"That's all I ask."

There was a long unbroken silence, but she knew that he had not hung up the phone. He wouldn't, not until after she did. But that didn't mean it wouldn't be him who broke the silence. She let him.

"I love you Kate."

She couldn't help but let the single tear escape. She wondered briefly, and maybe a little morbidly, if those two things would always go together that way. She found, strangely, that she didn't mind the idea.

"I know," she said placing the slightest emphasis on her firmly spoken answer before she continued, "I love you too."

"You won't forget?" She knew the question was only half teasing.

"Never," she said, refusing to give in to the humor. That was not the half of it that he needed to hear, and she knew it.

She heard him laugh anyway. "Well," he said after a moment, as if he had no idea how exactly to conclude their conversation. "I imagine that we will see each other soon."

"And I imagine that you can imagine a lot more than that," she said.

This time when he laughed it was full and open, coming off of a moment that he hadn't expected. "I love you," he said again. "Always."

"Always," she responded quietly. Then, she clicked off the phone.

She was not at all surprised when the phone on the bed vibrated with one last text.

"Good night, Kate."

She slipped a small note card from the pad next to the hotel phone as bookmark into his volume of alphabet soup, then set it with the others on the nightstand beside the bed. Finally, she reached out and clicked off the light. Then, she reached for her phone again. But she put it down and reached for the one on the nightstand instead. She made a quick call, and smiled knowing that when he woke up in the morning there would be coffee waiting at his door.

That most important task completed, she picked up the cellphone one last time. She did not even bother contemplating what to send back. She had known somewhere in the back of her mind that she would eventually be here where she was tonight — and sending him these words — since the first time he said them to her. It had just taken her several long years and winding roads to admit it.

"Until tomorrow, Rick." she sent.