She told him.
She told him to act normal. And Esposito was right anyway. It was her first day back to work and he didn't even get her a coffee!
Well, okay, so he did make her coffee in the morning, just the way she likes it. It's almost not even a conscious thought to acknowledge it anymore. Almost. But it is. And her healing heart acknowledges it. The fact that he's still giving her coffee in the morning, just to see a smile on her face, expecting nothing more than a happy Kate in return. Probably because he's getting much more than that without needing to supply her with a steady dose of caffeine. He doesn't need to do it anymore, and yet, he still does – still wants to. Okay, not entirely true. He does need to make sure she gets her morning hit of the good stuff, more for self preservation than anything else, because as evidence suggests, she can get really crabby without it.
"You're over thinking it," he had said this morning.
Pfft. She's not over thinking it. 'He's under thinking it,' she thought to herself as she watched him from the corner of her eyes.
He was sitting pointedly away from her, at what he probably considered a 'safe' distance, with his hands folded over his lap staring straight ahead at the t.v., like a good little boy. The thought made her debate over whether to laugh at him or roll her eyes. It's ridiculous how adorable he can be. But no! No, brain. She was supposed to be irritated with him, not finding him so adorable that she wanted to ruffle his hair. Ugh.
-x-
He risks stealing a glance at her, finally, because really he isn't taking in a word of whatever is going on on screen. What are they even watching? But he abandons trying to find out when he catches her eyes on him. She has on the oddest expression. Her head isn't completely turned towards him, like she's trying but failing to look away. The lines around her eyes make it look like she's glaring, but the twinkle in them, and the fact that she has to bite her lip to stop it from spreading into that golden grin he saw earlier – yeah, it gives him the idea that she wants to slap him and kiss him.
He turns back to the t.v., unsure of how to proceed. He ought to think this out, and prevent any further damage, because they've hardly been together yet and already the damage control he's had to do has been daunting. Ought to think it out before something stupid slips out like –
"So, I was thinking…" Drats.
This time she does glare at him. "What?" she asks sharply, regretting it slightly when she sees him wince.
Can he stop now? He figures she'll know if he comes up with something other than what he's thinking, 'cause she's a ninja like that. "Nothing. Nothing, never mind," he says, turning back to the show. Seriously, what are they watching? He just knows it's not any news channel.
"No," she says, her voice still carrying a hint of annoyance. "No, tell me. I want to know what's got you thinking. This ought to be good," she says as she folds her arms in front of her.
He notes the defensive posture and gulps. Hard. "Umm. I was just thinking about earlier –" He catches her wide eyes and wonders how he could already have said something stupid without even reaching the point of his thoughts. Oh. Wait. "Much, much, much earlier. In the morning."
"If you think you're helping me pick out my clothes after – "
What? "No, no, no," he cuts her off. "A little later than that, although – good times." He nods with a smile.
"Castle!"
"Wha-? Yeah. I meant at the crime scene," he says as his whole body turns towards her.
"What about it?" She's genuinely curious.
"Lanie said you looked different. And later she figured out that you're getting – that you're glowing."
"Really, Castle? Now you're going to go act all smug about that?"
"No. I don't – " he says softly, turning his head away from her. "I just wanted to know what she sees that's so different. You didn't seem all that different, at least at the crime scene and even later at the precinct. You're still wearing the same clothes you usually wear, the same power heels. You still draw everyone's attention – man, woman, child – wherever you go. You're still as authoritative, and in charge of things. You're still as beautiful, with perfect hair and you still smell like cherries," he said, still in a soft, low voice.
It doesn't sound like he's buttering her up. It sounds like he's trying to figure this out. Like he wants the aim, observations and conclusions of the study that is Kate Beckett.
"Castle –", she says with a wavering voice because, screw that bikini clad crazy woman. Rick Castle is completely and utterly in love with her – with the Kate Beckett that he's seen since the beginning.
He sighs. "I know. I know. I swear I was trying not to stare at you. But like you said, it would be suspicious if I stopped. I mean, have you seen yourself? You're hot."
The chuckle bubbles out of her and she puts the back of her hand to her mouth to stop more from spilling out. But they broke that dam and she hasn't been able to suppress the giggles that he elicits from her.
"Back to my question though. How'd she figure it out? To me, you always glow. Like the brightest light in the room"
And seriously he needs to stop sounding so sincere, because she's about a step away from turning into a puddle right on the couch.
"How do you glow to her? Like, does she see a halo of light around you or somethi – ?" He pauses to take in her look. "What?" She doesn't look peeved at all anymore. She looks – beautiful. Like the brightest light in the room. Oh.
"She's my best friend, Castle." It's Kate's turn to be soft, and he's so thankful for it. That he gets to hear this version of her, tender and caring and – in love. With him. He smiles.
"She's a smart nut, that one."
Her hand has made its way onto his arm. When did they get so close? They migrated towards each other without even noticing it, but he doesn't care. It seems like she doesn't either, because his hand is on her waist, spanning it, while his thumb is gently gliding across the soft, slightly ticklish skin over her ribs, and she hasn't yet batted it away.
She smiles again, and this time it's that little coy one. "She knows."
"Huh?" He has to ask because it's hard to keep up with the conversation now that she's back in his arms.
"Lanie knows. About us."
"Whaaaat?" He asks loudly, this information catching him unawares. "You told her?"
"Not what I said," she replies with the oh-so beloved eye roll.
"Did she call you out on it?"
"Umm. Nope. Not yet anyway."
He narrows his eyes, 'cause really.. what? "Okay," he drawls, trying to wrap his head around this. "Then you don't really know that she knows."
"Ah. No, I'm sure she knows."
"How can you tell?" he asks, wondering if girl best-friends have some additional superpowers that he isn't really aware of.
She huffs, exasperated and starts explaining it to him slowly. "I know, because she's been through every make up and break up, that happened much before you came into the picture. She's been through every rant, after you came into the picture. It's her I talked to when I first realized that you made it into my heart. Her again when you'd hurt it, and her again when you healed it. Her again when I felt guilty about hurting yours." Kate places her hand over his chest as she says it, to see that it's still beating strong.
"She's been my shoulder to cry on, when sometimes, I wanted it to be yours – and she knows that. I'm sure she knows, because I'm her best friend."
He nods his head. It makes sense when she puts it like that. "But she's not going to tell anyone, is she?"
"Oh, she won't. Definitely not before trying to get me to fess up about it."
"Has she tried?"
"Not yet. She will though. It'll be fun."
He scrunches up his face. "Girls are weird."
That makes her laugh, and it's good. This is good. All good again now that she's looking at him with tender eyes while her hand is carding through his hair. It's good that she has a friend like Lanie. Her best friend knows.
Oh. God. Her best friend knows! This is big. Even after today, he's still in her life. Her best friend apparently knows. And Kate isn't freaking out. This is massive.
"Kate!" he gasps suddenly, causing her hands to still.
"Yeah, Castle?" she says, sounding slightly breathless herself.
"Your best friend knows!" He can hear the awe in his own voice as surely as he can see it in her face.
"Yeah, Castle," she graces him with a shy smile and leans in to kiss him. Crazy witch's boobs forgotten. The only thing on her mind is him. She thinks about how far they've come. How long she wanted this, craved it, feared it, dreaded it, longed for it. How happy she is that she has it. How hard she's willing to work for it. She can see it in him too. The realization and love are just pouring out from him, unbidden. After one last peck, she pulls back and he gifts her with an echo of her 'wow' from this morning.
Her best friend can see it. She thinks the boys are playing them too. For years, witnesses have witnessed it, and suspects have suspected it. Now she's allowed herself to feel it. Allowed herself to feel all his love and let him feel hers.
They're in love. It's no secret.