IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE

Time is only wasting so why wait for eventually
If we gonna do something 'bout it
We should do it right now

Unthinkable - Alicia Keys

Kate should leave.

She knows it, Colin knows it, even the bartender probably knows it. But she's just getting comfortable, two very strong drinks in, and Colin is just so easy to talk to. And to listen to.

It's the accent, she finally decides as she downs the drink and signals for another. The accent, and the hair, and the body that she'd most definitely checked out when they'd arrested him…

But as she dives into her third scotch, and Colin continues a tale of a mime arrest gone wrong, she can't help but think about…him.

Castle.

He'd love the story. But he's with her, that flight attendant, doing something "fun and uncomplicated." And she can't blame him; she's the exact opposite. But still…

"So, Kate," Colin says a few moment after finishing his story, "tell me more about yourself."

Kate sips at her drink. It's good: expensive, better scotch than she usually gets, and stronger, too. It has her feeling loose. Not "might do something stupid" loose, but honest. Brave. She lets out a sigh. "There's nothing to tell. I'm just…me." She signals for another, and the bartender obliges. "Just another cop with a tragic backstory and shitty personal life."

Colin finishes his drink – just his first, she'd noticed – and tells the bartender to keep them coming before turning to face her. "Oh I think you don't give yourself enough credit." His finger traces the top of his glass. "You're pretty extraordinary, Kate. How is it that you're drinking in an airport bar instead of out on a date? Or at home with a significant other?"

"I thought this was a date," she teases, and she needs to stop, before she does something stupid.

"No," Colin corrects her, "this is two heartbroken adults having a few drinks together to commiserate."

"Ah." Kate lifts her glass, tilts it in a mock salute. "To commiserating."

Colin taps his glass against hers. "To commiserating," he echoes before they take twin drinks. "What exactly are you commiserating about, Kate?"

She looks down at her glass, contemplating between another scotch or something else. "Nothing," she mumbles. "Just…life." She takes a final swig, and asks for a beer.

"Sometimes it just doesn't go the way you expect it to go, right?"

Kate scoffs. "You're telling me. Here I thought I'd be…" She trails off, thumbnail picking at the label of the bottle in front of her. "Whatever. I don't care."

"Liar." Colin rests his head in his hand. "You thought you'd be what? Out with Castle?"

Her head snaps up, and she sees Colin just staring at her, a smile at the corner of his lips. "No," she lies, but when he just quirks an eyebrow, she sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "He's being so stupid."

"How so?"

"I'm not drunk enough for this conversation," she mumbles, but Colin obviously hears her, because before she knows it two tequila shots appear before her. She shoots him a look before they throw their shots back in unison, and she can't help the shiver that travels along her spine as the alcohol burns its way down her throat.

"So, what's Castle done?" Colin prods while they await a third shot.

Kate takes the shot, then taps her empty beer bottle to signal for another. "He's just stupid. So last year I got shot, right? Like, I almost died. And as I was just lying there, bleeding out, he told me that he loved me."

"And...you don't feel the same way?"

"No, I do. That's the problem." She sighs, frustrated, when Colin just looks at her in confusion. "We had this agreement, when I came back from recovery. At least, I thought it was. I told him I wasn't ready, he said okay, we've been working together just fine since. And then a couple weeks ago, he just...leaves. In the middle of a case. And yesterday he shows up at my crime scene in his Ferrari with this blonde bimbo on his arm, and I'm just…" She sips at her beer. "Why doesn't he just say something? Just...talk to me, you know?"

"He's a guy," Colin points out, and when Kate narrows her eyes at him, he continues. "If you'd ask him whether something's wrong, he'd just say nothing. Am I right?"

"I did. I asked him when he showed up yesterday, and he said he was fine."

"Where did you ask him? At the motel? At the actual crime scene?"

"The motel, yeah."

"Well, there's your first mistake." Colin grabs his drink and motions for them to move to a booth, grabbing Kate's elbow when she stumbles slightly. "Careful, Detective."

Kate feels her face flush as she slides into a booth. "Shut up. So," she continues when Colin slides in across from her, "what exactly did I do wrong?"

"First, you asked a man if he was okay, in public. No man is going to admit that he's not." He holds out his thumb and pointer finger, counting. "Second, you took his answer at face value. You know something's different, yet you didn't push. And third, you're here with me, instead of at his place."

"He's not home. And if he is, I'm sure he's with her." Kate's lip curls at the thought of the flight attendant in Castle's loft, in his room, in his bed. She should be with Castle. Not her.

"You don't know that for sure. He could be home. He could be alone." Colin looks down into his drink, then finishes it and reaches for his wallet. "You should go to him."

"But I-"

"No buts." He sets his hand on hers when she grabs her purse. "No, it's on me. Go to him, Kate. Go get him before it's too late."

Kate hesitates only briefly before standing. "Thank you, Colin." She takes his offered arm when he stands, and lets him walk her to the waiting cabs outside baggage claim. "What if I'm too late?" she asks, the alcohol beginning to leave her system, along with her courage.

Colin gives her a smile before leaving forward to brush a kiss against her cheek. "I think if he loves you a fraction of the amount you love him, he'll drop everything to be with you."

By the time the cab stops in front of Castle's building an hour later, she's sobered enough that she's starting to regret her decision. The doubts she'd vocalized to Colin have resurfaced: what if he's not home, or he refuses to see her? Or, worse yet, what if she's there? What if they're…occupied?

She steels herself against her own mind and pays the cabbie, and forces her feet to take her inside before she can change her mind. Her nerves quiet until she's stepping out of the elevator; then the fear that he's not alone rears its head again. Get a hold of yourself, Kate.

Her fist pounds on his door, and she suffers a few agonizing moments of fear before the door swings open to reveal Castle, alone and, blessedly, dressed. Her mouth opens before she can stop it. "No flight attendant?"

Castle's eyes darken, and she immediately regrets her words. "Why do you care?" His voice is cold, deep, and she can feel his anger. She's seen him mad, seen him upset, but never like this. And rarely at her.

Kate's fingers curl around the hem of her shirt for something to do. "I'm sorry, it just slipped out. Um, can we talk?" She can't help but peek over his shoulder, at the presumably empty apartment. "Can I come in?"

Castle squares his shoulders in the doorway. "You have something to say, say it here."

"I don't know what I did to make you mad," she starts, but when Castle scoffs, she crosses her arms, narrows her eyes. "What the hell was that for?"

Castle rolls his eyes. "You don't know? Come on, Beckett, you do."

"I don't-"

"Don't jerk me around, Beckett. You know I feel about you."

Kate stumbles back; she hadn't been expecting that. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't lie to me, Kate. Not anymore." He sighs, his head slumping, and moves to close the door. "You know what? Never mind. It's not worth it."

Kate stops the door before it shuts, takes a half a step inside, so he can't close it again. "Castle, what the hell are you talking about? What do you mean, I know how you-oh." She freezes when he raises his eyebrows, and it comes back: the bombing case, when he brought her coffee and disappeared while she was interrogating a suspect.

The suspect who she told she could remember everything about her shooting.

"Yeah. That." Castle crosses his arms. "Did you tell him the truth? Do you remember your shooting? Do you remember what happened? What I said?"

"Castle-"

"Just answer me, Kate. Please. You owe me that."

Kate sighs. "Yes, I remember."

Castle nods, and retreats into the apartment. "Okay. I get it. You obviously don't feel the same way, maybe you thought that over time you could. So I'll leave you alone."

Kate hesitates just a moment before following. "Castle, wait." She shuts the door behind her before catching up to him at his office. Stopping him with a hand to his shoulder, she feels him stiffen under her touch, and steps in front of him. "You're wrong. I've...look, do you remember our conversation on the swings?"

"I remember every conversation we've ever had, Kate."

His head is down, eyes on the floor, and Kate tucks her hand under his chin, forces him to look at her. "Remember how I told you about the wall I'd built? How I couldn't have the relationship I wanted while that wall was still up?" At his nod, she continues. "I'm trying, Rick. I've been seeing a therapist, not only to learn how to deal with my shooting but to move past it, to be someone who's not defined by her mother's murder. To be better."

"I didn't want a better version of you," Castle interrupts, stepping back from her touch. "I just wanted you. Wounds and scars and everything."

Kate's head starts shaking before he even finishes talking. "No, you didn't. I was a mess after I was shot, even before. And last summer…I realized that I was just denying what I already knew."

"What was that, Kate?" Castle leans against the doorway. "What did you already know?"

"That I love you back." She sees his eyes flutter closed, and not for the first time she wishes that she'd gone about this all differently, that she'd said something months ago. "I love you, Rick," she repeats, reaching for his hands. They're soft, his grip strong, and when she uses his grip to lean into him, he doesn't resist. Her mouth slants over his and he responds with a low moan, his mouth opening under the nudge of her tongue.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers when they break for air, her nose nudging against his. "I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry I made you feel this way."

Castle sighs, his lips drifting against her cheek, forehead, nose. "I'm sorry I pulled away," he murmurs against her jaw. "We really need to get better at this talking thing."

Kate giggles, and she cards her fingers through his hair, tugging his head back to hers. "Later," she husks, brushing her lips against his. "Right now, I just want you."

A/N: Prompt from Lou (aka inkycoffee): Post-Limey: Beckett gets that drink with Colin Hunt and as she gets drunk, all she can talk about is Castle. I hope I did it justice!