When Love Isn't Enough

Being in love with someone isn't always enough to want to be with them. Caskett AU. Two-shot.

A/N: This will be 2 parts. More info at the bottom

Standing at the edge of the balcony overlooking the back yard, Richard exhaled a long, slow breath and silently wished he'd grabbed himself an alcoholic beverage before slipping away from his mother's annual August garden party. Then again, he'd already consumed his one allotted event beverage, so surely one of the many employees (spies for his mother, as he liked to think of them) would have caught him, but he was in desperate need of the escape a second beverage could provide. At worst, it could lighten the tension in his gut just a little bit.

He should have been down on the lawn: mingling, smiling, shaking hands. He'd been doing that for the prior ninety minutes and needed a break. Honestly, he wasn't sure what was worse: the tension that formed across his shoulders when he made eye contact with a smirking reporter, or the judgmental looks he received from seventy-year-old debutantes who now knew far too much about what lie beneath his clothing.

Though it did little to ease the situation, he was relieved that his mother was not the least bit annoyed with him. Seeing as she had more or less encouraged her son to date the now infamous Christine Weatherby, she had little right to be. Though they had a pleasant conversation, he would not have pursued a relationship with her had his mother not encouraged the courtship of her friend's cousin's daughter—or was it a cousin's friend's daughter? Either way, it didn't matter now that their six months together had gone up in figurative flames, though the more he was spit-roasted by the media the flames began to feel more literal.

He simply could not understand it! As he had interacted with women at hundreds of different events in his lifetime, he liked to think he was a pretty good judge of who was sane and who was not. Christine had barely blipped on the psycho-meter and he'd only chosen to end their relationship because, while they had nice times together, he knew they would never have anything more than a superficial, casual romance; it was nothing long-term. She had cried, but he'd thought they parted on decent enough terms until five days later when her face was plastered all over every tabloid in the country making claims that he was a careless man, a terrible lover, and a downright unfit human being. All this barely two weeks before what was arguably the summer's biggest event; what a disaster!

Rick brushed his hand over his jaw and leaned against the balcony railing. He knew he'd been away from the festivities too long, but he wasn't quite yet ready to face another barrage of questions to which he could say nothing more than, "No comment." That was, after all, what the royal press office told him to say. His mother had agreed, and no one crossed the queen, not even the future king.

"Trying to sneak away?"

Rick was startled by the sudden melodic female tone, for he thought he was alone, but when he spun around, his surprise was instantly replaced with relief, since she was probably the only person he could stand seeing in that moment; his best friend.

"Kate!"

She chuckled lightly and smoothed her hands down the skirt of her lemon-yellow party dress. Shifting her weight on her matching heels, she did a small curtsy, and then said, "Hello."

Completely ignoring propriety (it had never much mattered between the two of them), Rick stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. "Sorry I didn't get to say a proper hello earlier," he said, referring to when she'd crossed his path in the receiving line at the beginning of the party. He'd promised to catch up with her when he had a chance, but he'd been derailed by reporters and grey-haired women with fake birds adorning their hats.

"Don't worry about it," she said, giving him a quick squeeze. "I know you're busy, but I saw you all the way up here and I thought I'd check on you."

He huffed and leaned his back against the railing. "Do I look that miserable?"

She quirked her lips to the side. "Justifiably so, I'd say. I'm really sorry about everything that's happening with Christine."

He grumbled. "Yeah well…I never once thought it would be this big of a mess. I didn't think anything could be this much of a mess...and before an event like this, no less."

She walked over and stood beside him. "if it makes you feel better, I knew everything she said was made up the second she said your dick was unimpressive."

Despite the fact that a vision of the headline Prince Richard Underdelivers flashed in his mind, he did let out a small laugh. "Thanks...I needed that."

She placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently. "I am sorry."

"At least you didn't go to the tabloids when we ended things."

She smiled knowingly. "You mean because I know enough for them to revoke your crown?"

He laughed again. "Definitely." Scarily enough—she wasn't exaggerating one bit. They'd met when he was seventeen, though hadn't begun dating until a year later, their first year of university. They were together for the next three and a half years and ended things reasonably amicably. As such, she had most certainly seen him at his worst, though he trusted her implicitly. The whole world could be falling apart around them, but she would never betray him—of that much he was certain.

They stood in silent for a few moments as he took a second to be thankful that though they were no longer romantic, she remained one of his dearest friends.

She broke the silence by saying, "You wanna talk about it—Christine?"

He shook his head, as he'd heard more than enough about her as of late. "No, no—let's talk about you. How's... Doctor Josh?" he asked of her boyfriend.

She merely shrugged. "I don't know; I haven't seen him in five months."

He felt his stomach twist with guilt. "Shit—is that how long it's been since we really talked? I'm sorry Kate."

"It's okay; you're busy."

He almost laughed at the word. Busy—now there was an understatement. He travelled all over the country making appearances, shaking hands, brining awareness to important issues. And that wasn't when he was participating in important governmental things. When he did have a free moment, it seemed she was hunting criminals and making their streets safer. He loved her dedication, but unfortunately their combined professions did not leave much time for catching up. "What happened? I thought you liked him?"

She gave a noncommittal shrug. "I put on a good front, but I was never overly invested. Then, he signed up for Doctors Without Borders and I didn't even mind, because it gave me more time to take on cases and prove that I earned my detective shield."

He hummed. "Guess when it comes to love we're two unlucky peas in a pod."

"Nah; it's just life." She let a beat go by before gesturing out towards the garden. "Wanna go play some lawn games?"

"Wanna go drink on the roof?" he countered, half-serious.

She blinked at him, clearly surprised. "What? Like old times?"

Old times—he liked the sound of that. "Sure, why not?"

She glanced out towards the party and then back to him. "I don't think you're allowed to sneak away quite yet."

He huffed as she was entirely correct. His mother would never let him hear the end of it if he vanished halfway through the event. Yet, he did not want to miss an opportunity to catch up with Kate. "Meet me up there in an hour?"

She gazed at him solidly for ten seconds before quietly agreeing, "Okay."

Gazing out beyond the manicured lawn, Kate Beckett watched the last hints of sun disappear behind the cluster of trees separating the most famous estate in the country from the rest of the world. She sat on a flat patch of roof with a blanket beneath her. Her legs were stretched out, ankles crossed, and a half empty bottle of whisky was nestled in her lap. Her head buzzed and her upper body began to list sideways until she righted herself. She was a little drunk, but not too drunk. Rooftop drinking would be dangerous if she was too drunk, but it wasn't fun unless she was a little bit.

Sitting there, Kate tried to remember how many times she and her royal companion had sat in those exact same positions, though she couldn't. Probably dozens. The last time they had been there side-by-side had been nearly exactly six years prior, but it definitely didn't feel like that much time had passed. Maybe earlier in the evening it would have, but at the end of nearly four hours of non-stop talking? It barely felt more than yesterday.

Glancing to her right, she gazed her eyes over her companion, one of her dearest friends. God, she had missed him. She hadn't realized how much until about an hour into their rooftop conversation when he'd winked at her and nudged her playfully. Her heart had fluttered in that same way it did when she'd been a mere teenager, and she knew for certain she never wanted to go five months without having a real conversation with him again; he meant too much to her and had for nearly a decade.

Kate remembered the day she met Prince Richard as vividly as any other significant day in her life. It was the tenth of January; the first day of the new term after the holidays. She was in Biology, her first class of the day during her second to last year of school, when he strolled in and sat in the seat beside her which, conveniently was the only empty one remaining in the class. Before the holidays, all the students had received a letter stating that the prince was transferring to their school to "pursue different educational opportunities" though every single one of them knew the truth: he'd been kicked out of his other school after several undisclosed infractions. At that time, they had not been informed of which classes he would be joining, so Kate was rather stunned to see him in hers.

While she stared perhaps a bit too intently at him (mostly from pure shock) he smiled casually, extended his hand and said, "Guess we should introduce ourselves if we'll be sitting beside each other. I'm Rick, and you are?" She'd stammered out her name and shook his hand as best she could, half expecting him to request that she curtsy in his presence or, at the very least, address him as "Your Highness," but he never did. He acted as though he was no different than any other seventeen-year-old in the building, which could not have been further from the truth. As the weeks wore on, she realized this was not an act, but simply how he was. At no point did they acknowledge that he was the sole heir to their country's throne, or that everyone around him knew his life story as well as they knew their own.

Because they did their labs together in Biology, she and Rick were on a first name basis, but they didn't spend any time together outside of the classroom, which was perfectly fine with her, for what she observed told her she was better off staying away. He was polite enough to her and (mostly) pulled his weight in class, but otherwise? He seemed like a total ass. Her mother had once asked her if he seemed as arrogant as his royal relatives, but she didn't think that was the case. Instead, she felt a little sorry for him. He was coming of age just as the rest of them were—something she imagined was even more difficult for him after his father's death a decade prior—only he was doing so under the spotlight of the entire country—arguably a large portion of the world. Yes, he behaved moronically, and certainly knew better than to act as such, but he wasn't acting much differently than their classmates. He simply didn't have the advantage of being able to find his own way without the world providing its (generally negative) opinion.

When it was announced that the prince had chosen the same University as she, Kate didn't feel any more or less excited about the situation. She actually expected them to almost never cross paths, unless it was at some sort of group event, and even then she anticipated nothing more than a polite acknowledging head nod, but it seemed fate had other plans, for he was once again seated beside her on the very first day of class.

Much to her pleasant surprise, this Rick was much different than the one she'd parted ways with four months earlier. From what she'd heard on the news, he'd spent the entirety of summer doing charity work in Africa. He'd returned calmer, more grounded, and clearly more mature. By the end of their first week of classes together, she didn't hesitate to accept his invitation to a party that evening. When he kissed her that night, she was surprised, but the action was certainly not unwelcome. As she was focused on her schoolwork more than her social life, she insisted they needed to keep things casual, but a month later she'd abandoned that mantra and agreed to be his girlfriend officially. A week later, her friends threw her a miniature party in celebration of the fact that the third man she'd slept with in her life was a crowned prince, though she rarely thought of him as such. He was just Rick—her Rick.

Because their relationship lasted nearly the entirety of their time in university, there was no one in the world who knew her better than he, and she knew the reverse was also true. No matter where they traveled in their lives, or how much time separated them on occasion, she knew they would always be able to have nights like that one, where they would talk about their lives and life in general. They were comfortable with each other and, honestly, after the rough few months she'd been having, it was a great relief.

Almost as though he'd heard her internal thoughts, Rick reached over and pulled the whisky bottle from her lap, saying, "I'm really glad we did this."

"Me too."

He reached out and put the glass bottle on the window sill before bending his legs so his feet rested flat on the rooftop. Wrapping his arms around his shins, he continued. "Some days I wish it was still like this...when we could just waste hours with little to no responsibility…"

Kate hummed, completely understanding his sentiments. She absolutely loved her job and knew she'd chosen the right path in life—the one on which she helped her fellow citizens and made the world a safer place for them—but of course she had moments where she wished to have no responsibilities. Most of those were on the days her alarm went off before five a.m. She would lie in her bed and just for a moment close her eyes and wish for the days when the most responsibility she had was attending a ninety-minute class and making sure she ate both a fruit and a vegetable.

"I know...but being an adult isn't always that bad."

He sighed a bit dramatically. "I guess not." After giving her a slightly sad smile, he scooted towards the window, and ducked inside his third-floor suite, which was no easy task for a man of his stature. Kate was halfway through mirroring his actions when he held out his hand to aid her. "Here, let me."

"I've climbed in this window dozens of times, Rick," she said stubbornly. Granted, in the past, she had rarely been wearing such high heels and a dress while doing so, but she knew she'd manage. She slid one leg across the windowsill then ducked her body in through the opening, leaving her left leg outside. When she attempted to bring it in so she could stand her heel caught the edge of the window trim, throwing her off balance so she pitched forward.

"Whoa! I got you!" Rick proclaimed, bracing her with his hands on her biceps.

"'m fine; I'm fine," she muttered, but when she righted herself, she lifted her gaze and realized Rick's face was barely more than an inch from hers. She froze in place, the logical side of her brain telling her to step back, but the drunk part of it wondering what would happen if she didn't. Fortunately, she had to wait only another moment to find out.

Without saying a word, Rick tightened his grip on her arms, dipped his chin, and pressed his lips against hers. He held himself there for a few seconds and then pulled back, but only enough so that their lips were no longer touching. The tip of his nose still brushed against hers and she could still feel his warm breath on her face.

Kate straightened her spine so she was no longer awkwardly hunched over, and Rick moved with her, sliding his hands from her arms to the center of her back. She moved her hands to his sides on pure instinct and the next second they were kissing again.

A minute later, when she pulled back to take a breath, she opened her eyes and the sight of her companions dopey, half-drunk smile felt like a shock to her heart. "Wha—hold on." She took a step back and brought one hand up to rest on her cheek. "What are we doing?"

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly. Then, stepping forward, he hooked a hand around her waist and pulled her in to him. "But an idea is coming to me…"

He covered her mouth with his once more, that time bringing his left hand up to cradle her neck. When his thumb brushed her pulse point, she whimpered and sloppily pushed him away. Despite the fuzziness in her brain, she still managed to point out, "This is a bad idea."

He smirked. "Is it?"

"Rick."

"We're just kissing."

She gave him a pointed look. "With you and me, there's no such thing."

He bobbed his head, clearly agreeing with her. "Okay, so we're not just kissing. There; we acknowledged it. Now the question is: do you really want to stop? Or…" He stepped in close, tilted and lowered his head, until his lips touched just below her jaw. He kissed his way over to her earlobe and nipped at it with his teeth; she felt her knees begin to wobble. "…would you like to continue," he husked, his breath ruffling the hair just behind her ear.

Kate whimpered and curled her fingers around his elbow. God, this was a bad idea; she knew it was, but the aching sensation between her legs told her it was definitely a bad idea she wanted to explore.

They had only slept together once after their official breakup. During her first year out of the academy when she was cutting her teeth as a beat cop, she was working crowd control during a parade at which he and his family were in attendance. A crazy and—they later learned—drunken man drove his vehicle through the barricades of the parade route and began mowing down innocent parade performers. In an attempt to stop the man, another equally green but far more reckless cop had tried to shoot out the tires on the car as it passed. Kate was hit in the arm by a ricocheting bullet as were several other bystanders.

As far as bullet injuries went, hers was rather minor. The flesh of her forearm was cleaned, stitched, and bandaged; she wasn't even offered prescription pain meds. When she went to leave the hospital that evening, it was not her father or a fellow officer who waited for her, but Rick, still wearing his official uniform, standing outside of his limousine much to the irritation of his handlers. He took her to her apartment, sent his companions away, and stayed with her as she cried—partly from the shock of her bullet wound, but mostly from the fear that she could have easily been killed protecting her fellow citizens from a crazed maniac.

He'd climbed in bed with her that night promising only to cuddle, but when they awoke in the wee hours of the morning, they'd equally desired more. When dawn broke, they parted ways as friends, and never spoke about their night of passion again.

Thinking about that night and how incredible it had been fueled Kate to give Rick a little smile, take his hand, and pull him towards the bedroom.

Halfway between wake and sleep, Rick grumbled when he felt the bed shifting beneath him. He blinked his eyes a few times trying to determine if he was awake or dreaming, but when he saw the stark naked and gorgeous women tip-toeing past his bed he knew he was definitely in a wonderful dream and awake at the same time; it was miraculous.

He watched her as she moved, quiet and delicate, thinking she was perhaps just grabbing a t-shirt since he knew her away around his room so well, but then he saw the yellow cloth in her hand and grumbled. "No, don't go. Stay. Sleep."

"Can't," she said in a hushed tone. "I have a six a.m. shift."

He groaned at the mere thought of being that alert at such an unpleasant hour. He tilted his chin so he could see the clock on his nightstand and found himself shocked by the time. They really had made the most of round two. Yawning and rubbing his eyes he said, "Then why'd ya let me keep you up this late?"

She walked over to him as she zipped up her dress and stopped just beside the mattress. "I'd say I was definitely a willing participant."

He hummed and reached out a sloppy hand to caress her thigh—the closest part of her to him. "Tonight was fun."

"Very fun," she agreed, "but now I have to go." She arched over him, kissed his forehead, and then walked back to where her shoes had been discarded.

"I'll call you this week, okay?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "If you want."

He tucked his hands beneath his cheek as he could feel himself being pulled back into dreamland. Despite his fuzzy consciousness, he knew one thing for certain: he absolutely wanted to call her.

"I'll call you. 'night Kate."

The last thing he heard before her fell asleep was her melodic, "Goodnight, Rick; sleep well."

A/N: Okay...so a few things here. One, I love modern prince/princess AUs more than anything, but I've never done a caskett one just because I didn't think it fit them. Then, I watched Black Panther, and the very end scene between T'Challa and Nakia happened and I was like...oh, yeah I need to fic something like that, and that's where this came from.

Thanks for reading!