Scratch and Claw

Kate walks close, tries not to lengthen her stride and thus escape, tries to keep her pace steady even as Castle dismantles her plan.

"Think about it," he continues. He sounds so calm; he's really thought about this. "How often do you expect to be able to have a night off? To come home and stay home?"

"Is home DC or is it the loft?" she snarks back, winces when she hears herself. "No. Never mind that."

"Right now? Home is the loft, Kate." His hand grips hers harder and she realizes she's unconsciously tugging it away. "Wait. Hold on. Only because we've been in DC barely a month. That's all. You and I make our home together, in the truest sense."

"That was just deflection," she admits.

"I know," he says quietly. "But I was gonna let you have it." He gives her a wink, his fingers drumming against hers, playing around to belie the seriousness in his eyes.

"I don't know when it will slow down," she answers finally, side-stepping a man coming at them with a tray of fried plantains that smell rich and heavenly. She can't help the way her gaze follows them down the sidewalk, and Castle tugs on her hand to regain her attention.

His voice is low, that rumble of serious intent when he drops all artifice, when he wants her to listen. "You said it might take a few years, and that's fine - if that's all you want to do with your life. With our life. And if it is - that's fine too, Kate. If that's what you want. I'll do this with you."

She frowns, her eyes catching hold of a vegetable stand as they pass, a wide variety of gourds she's never seen before but which she'd label as squash. Another food vendor is selling ceviche and the odor of shrimp is heavy enough to stay trapped in her lungs even as they wind away from the food stalls.

"But I don't think that's all you want," Castle goes on. He's apparently done with her silence, or knows her well enough to plow ahead. "You talked about having a family - sometime in the future. How far away is that? Five years? So you dig into Bracken for five years and then you're nearly forty and I'm almost fifty-"

She grunts at that, part of her peace unraveling as he talks. "I haven't gotten that far. I haven't planned that far ahead."

"You plan everything," he counters. "You're telling me the timeline hasn't occurred to you?"

"I wasn't thinking five years," she murmurs.

"It's taken five years to get here. And you're starting from scratch, all over again. You've got a year to settle into the job - learn the ropes, all that. Another year of doing the grunt work, the rookie stuff they'll unload on you. By the third year, you'll hit your stride. Like we did at the 12th."

"Like we did?"

"Yeah. You know," he grins. It's a little forced, but he's trying to help her out. Loosen her up. "Third year - one of the best. Solve rate went way up; you finally dropped the act that you hated me."

"We hit our stride," she echoes, but there's an answering smile in there too. He's done it again, lightened her world with a few words. "So three years until I get where I need to be to open an investigation into Bracken. That's what you think."

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "Three years to get settled, gain their trust, find your groove. Get real work done. But by the look on your face, that investigation is already open. Isn't it?"

Her shoulders climb to her ears but he's asked and he knows her. "It is. Already open."

He doesn't look happy with that, and she knew he wouldn't. "I thought we agreed-"

"I've done it carefully. I promise, Castle. It's not even official."

"You have a deal with Bracken," he hisses at her, his fingers gripping so hard that she can feel her pulse pound in her hand. They've stopped abruptly on the sidewalk. "The deal is that you back off. And if you don't, then he's got free reign to hurt you. Or me. My daughter-"

"I know. I promise. It's not - he won't know. He can't possibly. I haven't even done an internet search on him, Castle. It's just - listening. My ears are open. DC is different; they play differently, the politics are harsher, if that's possible. It's just waiting for something to break."

"Kate," he growls, shaking his head at her. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. You have no back-up. And without a team, you're bound to-"

Castle bites off whatever that next remark was going to be. Overlook something? Make a huge mistake? Get someone killed? She bites her lip and pulls him to the crosswalk, watching the traffic bump and jerk through the street. Cars, trucks, bikes, pedestrians, a riot of color and noise that makes her cringe.

"Bound to get hurt," he finishes with a sigh. His fingers let go of hers and skim up towards her elbow, drawing her closer. She leans her head against his shoulder for a moment, resting.

They cross with the light, dodging cars still in the intersection and bikes that pedal right out in front of other people. Castle stands his ground as a motorbike tries to roar through the pedestrians, keeps the driver from hurtling into her. His grip is tight, but his fingers ease when the bike skirts around them.

"Montgomery told me..." she trails off. She's pulled a little ways ahead of him and has stepped up onto the curb already. When she turns to look at him, finish her thought, he's got that stunned and terrible grief on his face.

How she forgets he was right there for all of it. He was the one who had to drag her out of that hangar, the one who tackled her to the grass in that cemetery. His job, his family too - all of them at the 12th. And while her grief was subsumed into rehab and healing from the bullet wound, where did Castle's go?

Looks like it's still right here, close to the surface.

She steps back to him and tugs him out of the flow of foot traffic. She props her shoulder against the terra cotta wall of a tattoo parlor and studies his face, reaching out to touch his side.

"What did Montgomery tell you?" he gets out. He's watching traffic but his hand comes up to cup her elbow.

"There are no victories," she repeats, the echo of her captain's voice in her head. "Just the battle. The best you can hope for is to find someone with whom to make your stand." She slides her hand around to his belt, tugging to get his attention. "That's you. You're my back-up. You're my team. And I'm sorry that I haven't been acting like it."

He lets out a long breath and his gaze comes back to her; he hooks his arm around her neck and draws her against his chest, his breath hot at her temple. "Come on. We've got a dinner date to make."

He's letting her off the hook for now. But she doesn't want to be.

"Keep talking, Castle."

This is it, he realizes. This is where they find their line and make their stand, battle for it.

"I think he's wrong," Castle says. It's not even his mouth running away with him. He doesn't blurt it out. He knows; he chose those words. At least now as they walk, they're hand in hand, loose, easy, and she doesn't tense.

"Who's wrong?"

"At least about that. Montgomery." He pauses and tries not to trample on memories. "Kate, there are things he should never have done. He made mistakes. One of those - I think - is having that philosophy: no victories."

She takes in a ragged breath beside him, but she doesn't respond. But their walk has slowed again, ambling like she's listening hard, and at least there's that.

"He's wrong. Because that can't be right. You and me, Kate - that's a victory."

She turns on the sidewalk to stare at him, their hands falling away, and when she's still not said anything after a long minute, he nudges her forward, leads them towards the comedor where they're supposed to meet his daughter.

"You've been treating your whole life like that, you know," he says confidently. Not much more he can do but keep talking, pushing words out there to convince her. Make her see. "Like your life is a battle. Ongoing, never-ending. Isn't it exhausting?"

At her silence, Castle glances over to check on her, sees the sharp line of her mouth is twisted and her eyes are avoiding his. "Yes," she says finally. "Exhausting is a word for it."

"I don't think your life is a battle, Kate. I've never viewed it like that. Every time you gave justice to a victim, every time you showed compassion to those families - those were victories."

Her hand comes back to tangle in his, her grip extra hard, like she has to hang on.

"What about this?" he adds. "You and me in Costa Rica, heading to dinner with my daughter, being able to do this at all. I consider that a victory."

She lets out her breath now and he can practically feel her eyes on him, studying.

"A job at the AG's in DC. What is that?" she says suddenly.

"That's a victory too, Kate. It's an honor to be asked - invited - to DC. I might not love how we got there," he murmurs, giving her a little smile to show no hard feelings. "But it's a good career move."

She nods slowly.

"Despite your mom's murder, despite the things you've had thrown in your way, you've overcome. Your life is a victory."

Her hand loosens in his, relaxing a little. "You... you make that possible, Castle. And if the job was - is - at all a good move, it needs to be a victory for us. Both of us. Our life."

They're close. The comedor is just down the block and he can see his daughter waiting outside; her back is to them and she has a bottle of water in her hand, her hair shining like gold.

"Yeah," he agrees finally. "Both of us. Our life. We'll figure it out."

"Let's figure it out right now," Kate says quickly. "Because I don't want to lose this. You. Or the ability to talk about this honestly."

They have maybe twenty yards. He's not sure it can be done.

"Let's nail down the timeline," she says, her fingers squeezing around his. "Okay? Right now."

"The timeline. I..."

"First-" She cuts off, and he can hear her sharp breath, practically feel her heart pounding. Why is she nervous? "I want us to get married. Next year. In - in New York."

"Oh?" Does that mean-?

"I know that means we'll have to fly up on weekends to get all the details right, and that - I don't know - I might not have the time - I'm going to be treated like a rookie, all the grunt work - but I will do the best I can to be right there with you. But you might have to plan a lot of it."

"I can do that," he agrees, only fifteen yards away from the restaurant now. Alexis still hasn't seen them, and Kate's talking about their wedding. "You have any ideas about what you want?"

"You."

He startles and looks over at her and she just gives him a half-smile, a little shy.

"That's pretty much my main criteria." She glances down the street; she must be measuring their time against the mark of his daughter's position as well.

"Okay. So. You have a date in mind or-"

"No. Just - next year. A year. So I guess May. Whatever weekend works out best. And then the year after that..."

"Yeah?"

"We're either somewhere on this case, both of us, or we're not."

Alexis has turned now; she's watching the street idly, not really looking for them. Castle doesn't wave yet, doesn't draw her attention because his is totally on Kate. "Or we're not?"

"You're right. Five years from now is too late for us."

His stomach trips, or maybe his feet, because she's suddenly chuffing a soft laugh and having to hold him up. Castle stares over at her, but there aren't any words for that.

"My intention isn't to plan it out for you, for us, without asking. Not this time. So. You know. We can still decide how fast we take it. If we want to do it at all. But we can have that conversation in two years."

He still has nothing. Nothing. And now his daughter has seen them and she gives an ultra-cool wave of her fingers, lips pulled into a smile, and he can't help but thinking about doing that with Kate - having that - and he's tongue-tied still.

"Two years is what I'll give the case," Kate continues. "But that means I need you with me on this. I need my partner."

"I'm there," he nods, his throat dry. "You have me. I'd been thinking I could make rounds of the social circuit in DC. Play up the famous author stuff. Get close to people who are close to him."

Her fingers tighten around his. "That's... a good idea. Yeah, that could be more helpful than anything I can do at the AG's office, actually."

"Just. To make it clear. Two years and then we...?"

"We're either in a court room testifying or well, let's be honest, giving deposition for a grand jury. Or. Or we're home in New York. However we can get there."

"That's a pretty strict timeline-"

"It has to be," she says thickly, her hand squeezing his again. They've got maybe five yards before they're right on Alexis and Kate suddenly puts her other hand to his chest, makes him stop. "Castle, it has to be. I'm not willing to battle any more, this endless, exhausting... "

Castle draws his hands up her back, pulls her in a little closer as he dips his head to softly kiss that troubled, intent line of her mouth.

"I want to marry you," he says quietly. "We'll do what we have to do, but I don't want you to compromise."

"Two years. It's not a compromise, Rick. It's a promise." Her kiss is fierce, an explosion of feeling, fire, love. "This is more important. This is my victory."

And then she turns her face towards Alexis and their dinner plans. They walk the last few yards together, hand in hand, arriving at the same time.