The Twist
Do the twist in the twisting outfit
The loose tie with
the loose limp wrists
Lift your dress
enough to show me those shins
Let your hair stick
to your forehead
xXx
She's all he saw. In the flood of people that was moving around them, the waves that seemed to sweep them along too, the beat picking up getting louder and louder still - and she's all he could see. The rest of them existed in this world – their world – oh, they did, but they were all a blur. Insignificant. All of it insignificant but for her. Her, and him, and them.
And so he forgot. Just for a while, he forgot. He forgot how to co-exist. He forgot how he ever existed without her. He forgot what it was like to breathe the air when her breath wasn't a part of it. But he had all of this committed to memory. Not on purpose. Hardly ever on purpose. She was just like that. Frustrating. Etching herself into the deepest, darkest crevices of his mind and filling them up, up and up to the brim till he didn't know what to do with himself. Till she infiltrated all the spaces. All his thoughts.
He'd have this picture, looping and twisting around his every heart beat, pumping his body with more thoughts of her. For as long as he should live.
And who would fault him? For ingraining this in every fiber of his existence. Who would fault him for letting the rest of it melt away? Tunnel vision – just her. Kate.
It should be illegal. It probably was illegal in some place somewhere in the world, for her to look that beautiful in a simple black dress. But nothing ever was simple with her, was it? No. Nothing simple about how the black silk fabric lay just so perfectly on her skin that it became a part of her. How it moved over her like a knife over butter, slipping and sliding but perfectly, perfectly in place. How that tiny scrap of the same fabric that was in part attached to the dress at her waist, only to accentuate her feminine beauty as they twisted him deeper and deeper into her, drawing him into the same kind of grace that she seemed to emanate.
He found it hard to focus on any one part of her, when every part of her for screaming for his touch. Just as his hands slid over her waist, relishing the warmth that got infused in the air surrounding her, she gave a sharp twist of her hips, and before he knew it, he was spinning her. Away from him, and then absolutely refusing to let go, he tugged her back firmly, drawing a startled gasp from her as she spun back and collided into his chest to steady herself. Those skillfully styled flicks now stuck across her forehead and though he longed to play with them, to set them back, he wouldn't relinquish his grasp on her waist, and the other which held her dainty hand tightly, possessively in his.
In what felt like a practiced move, but what was her showing at least an ounce of restraint, probably the more aware of the two of them; she twisted away from him, one hand flying gracefully in the air, the other still in the safety of his. The magical flair of her dress rode up, exposing her long, tanned legs; giving him a glimpse, a peak before disappearing back beneath the black veil. He slid his hand to her lower back, and traced it down the back of her perfectly toned thigh and lifted it, and her, into him as he moved backward; drawing her closer. Closer to the edge, where he was already waiting.
xXx
Did you blush then when our hips touched?
I can't tell,
you're already red
Am I right?
You give me the signs
Is that pink mist
or just lit dry ice
xXx
That's probably when she realized. He was lost in her, and there was nothing that either of them were going to be able to do. The crowd had somehow parted, and she didn't know how, but here they were at the center of it, but she didn't have the time to give it much thought, because the next thing she knew, she was being spun away again. The breath rushed out of her at the thought of being away from him, and just like that she was being twisted back into him. Chin to chin, toe to toe, hip to hip with his hands gliding along her waist, his thumbs pressed firmly about her bone, pulling her to him or him to her, and she couldn't tell anymore, just like when they were alone. Like those other times when the world didn't exist.
But the lingering presence of sense nagged at her, and they weren't alone, and she blushed crimson, though she wondered if anyone noticed because she was probably already red from all the blood flowing through her veins. From dancing with him, synchronized to every beat and to his every move. His arm and her arm, his leg and hers, like each of their limbs were partners too, knowing exactly when to move, when to catch and when just to hold. He snaked his arm around her back and dipped her, still moving, the ceiling spinning in her vision, but she was safe. She was safe, and she wouldn't fall because he had her back.
Righting her, their faces mere inches from each other, both lips parted from heavy breaths. Their eyes met just as their breaths did, and just for a fraction of a second, she allowed herself to be lost too. In a move that still probably went with their dance, which for good measure, was now turning more primal, and reflexive, because they were moving of their own accord – their bodies, and minds at wholly different places, but the same place as its partner's – and she inclined her head, towards him, to the inevitable kiss – which wasn't to be, because he turned to the music, and obviously, she turned to him.
xXx
You twist and whisper the wrong name
I don't care nor do my ears
Twist yourself around me I need company,
I need human heat I need human heat
xXx
For a minute she wondered if she had been wrong. If he wasn't as lost in her as he seemed to be. Maybe she was the one who was lost. Her eyes focused on someone in the audience that they had seemingly earned, and she gasped out in his ear when he suddenly pulled her into him.
"Scott!" Kate whispered.
He mustn't have heard her, she thought, because he didn't make sense.
"Not going anywhere," he replied and spun her away before she had a chance to utter anything more than a 'but'. What could she do but dance to his beat? Because he wasn't supposed to be here. Castle was supposed to stay home, but the stubborn man had somehow snuck into the party and found her, and what was she thinking? Dancing with him, making him an easy target. What was she thinking?
So she spun away, ready to return, formulating a plan the whole time. This was the second socio-psychopath named Scott that had become obsessed with Nikki Heat.
xXx
Let's pretend I'm attractive and then
You won't mind,
you can twist for a while
It's the night, I can be who you like
And I'll quietly leave
before it gets light
So twist and whisper the wrong name
I don't care nor do my ears
Twist yourself around me I need company, I need human heat
I need human heat
I need human heat I need human heat I need human heat I need
xXx
She was perspiring, with adrenaline from the dance, and being with him, and then suddenly with fear because she'd failed to protect Castle and now he was target practice for that scum. Again she tried to get the message to him, but he just smiled at her, completely in awe, and gratefulness and love and the words caught in her throat for two reasons. First, she didn't know how to process these feelings and it was all jumbled up. Everything inside her jumbled up, like some fantastical, frightful twist of everything she knew or thought she had known before she knew him. Second, she'd lost sight of Sanders.
The night was coming to a close, and so was this song. In a series of notes it got louder, and picked up tempo and then he was spinning her so fast, her dress fanned around her, dancing a different dance to the same tune. She was spinning, away and away and away from him and her head twisted toward him, always towards him. That's when she saw it.
This time there was no smirk. This time there were just wide eyes that were focused somewhere next to her. A million things seemed to happen right that minute.
Abruptly she stopped moving and faced him.
Suddenly his gaze landed on her, and the smallest smile, but not a pleased one. Just accepting. Accepting of what exactly?
There were screams, though she couldn't make out any of the words, he's all she saw.
Two shots rang out. Two loud noises, penetrating their bubble.
xXx
Twist and whisper the right name, please
Twist as if you're just like me
You need company, you need human heat You need human heat
xXx
She turned towards the source of the noise, and saw Esposito about to tackle Scott Sanders who had his gun raised. She twisted to where his gun was still pointing, and then the fear almost overwhelmed her because it felt like the bullet had ripped her apart. She knew what that felt like. She knew the feeling very well. And this was worse.
"Castle!" she barely breathed out, before running to him, as he lurched backward, the velocity of the bullet trying to push him into oblivion.
He stepped back, not falling, but doing this weird back-step that made it look like he was still dancing to his own song. He looked up at her then, and smiled, opening his arms wide, one towards her, as if he was just resuming their interrupted spin. As if he would take her hand and draw her back into his welcoming embrace, safe under his chin, in the crook of his neck, in the heat of his skin, in each thump of his still beating heart.
A/N: One minute I was listening to the song. Next thing I knew, Bam said the fic Gods. P.S. I absolutely refuse to write and publish the next chapter unless everyone who bothers to review also bothers listening to this song. 'The twist', by the Frightened Rabbit. *folds arms and sits patiently*
Disclaimer: I got bored of seeing these things at the top, so it's down here. Castle isn't mine, and neither is this gorgeous song.