82. 84: Saturday

84

Castle adjusts his boxers on his hips, then goes hunting for his shirt; he finds it on the floor, by Kate's bed. Somewhat wrinkled. Oops.

He quickly puts on the rest of his clothes, looks around for something to do. He got kicked out of the shower - Kate physically pushed him out, said he would make them late for the movie - so he runs his hands through his still-wet hair, tries to ignore the sounds of the running water.

Been there, done that, Rick.

He could eat something. Yeah. He's kinda hungry, actually. Not that Kate's cupboards are usually overflowing with provisions, but he should be able to figure out something.

So he heads for the kitchen, inspects the fridge, pleasantly surprised to discover a dozen eggs that are not out of date. Hm, does he have time for eggs though? Maybe he should just-

A loud buzz interrupts his thoughts, makes him turn, look for the origin of the noise. Kate left her phone on the table, must have silenced it - the thing is vibrating like crazy, inching dangerously close to the edge of the table. Castle rescues it magnanimously, can't help glancing at the identity of the caller.

Margaret Mason.

Huh. He's heard that name before. Where did he hear that name? Margaret Mason. Margaret Mason. Margaret Mas-

The shower stops, and the phone is still buzzing in his hand. Castle ventures back into the bedroom, gears turning in his brain, finds the bathroom door ajar. "Kate?" he calls. "Your phone's ringing."

"Who is it?" she asks, hooking her bra before she turns to him, pushes the door open.

His eyes land on the round scar between her breasts, flicker back up to her face; sometimes just the sight of the pink, puckered skin is enough to tie his heart in knots.

"A Margaret Mason," he says, and suddenly, out of nowhere, it clicks. He sees a face, a building - the Carney firm. Margaret Mason, a former colleague of Johanna Beckett.

Why is the woman calling Kate?

Beckett hesitates for a second, lip pulled between her teeth, then reaches for her phone. "I'll be quick, Castle," she promises, before she closes the bathroom door in his face.

But he's intrigued now, and vaguely indignant at being shut out, so he eavesdrops shamelessly, resting his shoulder against the thin wall. Doesn't do him much good, because Kate isn't saying a lot, and what she does say is rather cryptic.

"No, no, I'm not disappointed at all," he hears. "Margaret, if anything, I'm grateful for the chance-" the other woman must interrupt Kate, because she says nothing more for a moment, probably listening. Damn.

"That would be great," Kate concludes, her voice warm. "Thank you again; I really appreciate it."

Appreciate what? The conversation is clearly over, though, and Castle hastens to move away from the door before he can get caught. He grabs a random book from one of Kate's shelves, hopes he looks convincingly absorbed when she comes out of the bathroom, a few seconds later.

Fully clothed, he notices with a twinge of regret.

Kate drops her phone onto her bed, turns on the light in her closet, rummages through her shoes. He watches her, waiting, as she picks a pair of heels and then puts them on, touching a hand to the wall for balance.

When she goes into the living room to look for a bag, however, and mentions something about getting a cab so they won't be late, Castle has to reluctantly accept that she's not going to say anything to him about that phone call. Not if he doesn't ask.

He doesn't want to ask.

But he does want to know.

The battle inside him lasts for a few seconds, a minute maybe, until his curiosity comes out victorious. He draws in a long breath, tries to sound nonchalant. "So, why is Margaret Mason calling you?"

Kate stops in the middle of what she's doing - looks like she's transferring the contents of a little handbag to the pockets of her jacket - and gives him a sharp, surprised look. Maybe she didn't expect him to remember who Margaret was.

"Just getting back to me, Castle," she says vaguely, going back to the perusal of her purse. "No big deal."

That's not what he asked. He struggles, part of him wishing so hard that he could drop this, forget about it, enjoy a quiet night at the movies. The Dark Knight Rises and Kate's warm body, close to his in the darkness-

But no.

"What are you grateful for, then? What chance did she give you?"

Kate stills, her shoulders stiff, that deadly silence that he's learned to be afraid of. But this is important. He can tell it is.

"Listening in to my private phone conversations, Castle?" she says finally, her voice too calm as she turns to him. "Nice. Classy."

The burn of anger in his chest is sudden, fierce. "Don't give me that, Kate. I wouldn't have to eavesdrop on your private conversations if you would just tell me things. This-" he flicks his fingers between the two of them "- is never going to work if you're not willing to share-"

"Are you kidding me?" There's an undercurrent of laughter to her voice, but he's spent enough time with her to know it's not good. "What, are those my only choices, Castle? I tell you things, or you'll spy on me? Is that what you do with Alexis?"

"Leave my daughter out of this," he replies quietly, furious at the way she's deliberately sidestepping the issue. "Kate, I asked a simple question. Because I'm in love with you, because I'm interested in your life, and I want to know what happens to you. If you can't answer me honestly, if you have to brush it off and say that it's no big deal-"

"Because it's not!" she answers, throwing her hands up as if she can't comprehend him. "Castle. I called Margaret because I was trying to figure out what to do with my life, and I thought a job at a law firm - at least I'd still be a part of the system. It turned out they were actually looking for a researcher, so I went there for an interview, didn't get the job. No big deal."

He stares at her, open-mouthed, stunned. She stares back for a couple heartbeats, her eyes clear and expectant, before he finally finds his voice again. "No big deal?" he repeats, almost a whisper. He can't believe- "You went to a job interview at your mom's old law firm and you weren't even going to tell me?"

"Rick," she says, her tone conciliatory as she steps forward. "I didn't even want the job. I went to the interview because it was a good opportunity, a way to get back in the game, that's all. Practice. And when they called me back, I wasn't disappointed, I wasn't sad, I wasn't anything. There was no reason to tell you."

She means it, he can tell. She didn't say anything because she honestly thought there was nothing to say. Only - he doesn't see it that way.

"What if you had gotten the job?" he asks, hating how raspy his voice sounds. "Would you have told me then? Would that have been a...big enough deal?"

Her mouth parts, and for the first time he detects a crack in her confident exterior, a flash of hesitation in her eyes. "Castle-"

But he holds up a hand, suddenly terrified of whatever she might say to that, not sure at all his heart can take it. She just - she-

"You were just going to conveniently not mention it," he says, his throat dry. "With everything that's happened - how stupid it is to keep secrets, you were-"

"Secrets?" she laughs, a startled thing that bursts from her mouth, but her eyes are searching. "Castle. It's not a secret. It's not anything. It's less than nothing. I told you I needed a job, you asked if I needed money. I don't understand."

Less than nothing. He needs to get out of here. "No, Kate. I... I get that this is - your life, your apartment, your job. I'm trying to respect that. But I'm, uh. I'm a little lost here as to where my place is in all of this. Where I fit in your life. And every time I think I've got it, every time I think we're good, something like this happens, and I just-" he sighs, rubs his hand against his neck. "I don't know anymore."

He glances at her face, looks away again, cannot deal with the emotion he sees shimmering there. Not right now. "I'm...gonna take a walk," he says, has to unstick the words from his throat. "I need to - I need to be alone for a while."

He waits for a second, two, doesn't know what he's hoping for; but it doesn't come. Kate nods slowly, like someone awaken from a dream, says only -

"Okay."

"I have my phone," he tells her, and then he turns, skirting her to get at the door, all of it aching in his chest.

She doesn't try to stop him.