Chapter twelve

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Kate couldn't sleep. After four hours of laying cuddled with her daughter in hopes of getting rest she finally gave up. Was she right? Did she have that glimpse her parents had so openly shown during her whole life? Elisabeth had certainly gotten her thoughts running. If she was, maybe that'd explain why his reaction had hurt so much, and how he'd gotten so close to her without really having to fight. Also, she wondered how Elisabeth could remember that look, she'd only been two when her mother was... killed. But then again there were a lot of photos of her parents looking lovingly at each other, perhaps that's why she'd seen the resemblance. Thinking about her parents and how it all had turned horrible she was thankful she'd had Elisabeth. Kate had been nineteen at the time, and just finally gotten a somewhat role of motherhood, when she suddenly lost the only mother-figure she had. That's also when she decided to become a detective, serve justice to those who some cops couldn't, like her mom. If it hadn't been for the need to take care of Elisabeth she probably would've dug her own grave with her mother's case, but with the small girl as a constant reminder that she needed to keep her two feet on the ground she never fully dug into the cold case. Of course she'd taken a shot, but seeing the way her daughter had missed her every day, and how much she'd already worried the small toddler, she'd let it go. Elisabeth had also been a brilliant card against her dad. She'd stumbled across him drunk a few nights in a row and threatened that if he didn't stop and got help she'd take Elisabeth with her and never let him see her again. It was them or the booze. Thankfully he immediately sobered up and picked them, joined a support group and poured out all alcoholic beverages he had in his home. Kate jerked at the sudden sound of her phone vibrating, and she turned in the bed to grab it. She glanced towards her daughter to make sure she hadn't awoken to the sound before she clicked into the message she'd gotten.

*I will stop bothering you, it only seems to hurt you more, and I'm sorry. I hope you're okay, Liz texted me again earlier in hopes you were with me when she couldn't reach you. I just felt like you should know, I didn't want to keep it from you. RC*

Kate stared at the message, then looked over at her daughter's sleeping form. Was she fooling herself? Had she been overreacting? The man was a curious soul, she knew that, and he was quite annoying as well. Perhaps he hadn't been thinking, perhaps he'd only wanted the justice for her she never got. Before Kate could comprehend what was really going on she was sending a message back to him.

*Meet up? Usual spot, 1pm tomorrow. KB*

It didn't take long before she got a reply.

*I'll be there! RC*

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Castle was nervous, he didn't quite understand why but he was. He was also extremely happy she'd texted him back during the night, had never fathomed she would still be awake, nor that she actually would answer. And if he thought she would've answered it would've been something in the style of 'fuck off'. Sitting at their table he stared at the coffee cup in front of him with her order, as he continued to fiddle with his own. He had ordered for her in hopes she would actually stay long enough to finish it, actually halfway hoped it could be a reasonable bribe to have more time with her. He was nervous, and god he couldn't stop thinking about it. At least she wouldn't yell at him, he knew that much because she wasn't one to make public drama, which had been why she'd dragged him into that interrogation room the day earlier. She didn't want that attention, and frankly he didn't either.

"Hi."

Her voice startled him and he looked up to see her, biting her lips hesitantly as she eyed him. As if he couldn't get himself to answer her he only raised his hand in a slight, embarrassed wave, and... was that a pull in her lips? She sat down before he could even find his voice and to his relief she took a sip of her still hot coffee. It was ironic, for a writer he just sat there with no words. His mind was running wild and still he couldn't come up with any good words.

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