She pulled her turtle neck over her head hiding her smile. She couldn't handle it much longer. She was about to burst. This guy had to have the biggest, most sincere heart of anyone. He was so free with other people around. He was just so loving and handsome and … and … rich! She felt a tiny how dare you ping into her brain. She had to be honest with herself though if he didn't have all that money he wouldn't be able to invest the time in "researching" all the things they've been through. He wouldn't have saved the mayor (or whatever he did) so he could twist the arm and indian burn the forearms of people who clearly had more political pull. She was finally starting to feel like someone that was worthy of a genuine love like this. He was all hers.
He was talking to a newbie that just got promoted. They were sharing stories and while he may very well have been researching for a character or a perspective she was just too happy and was tired of waiting for the perfect moment.
She was still trying to keep appearances of them being … you know... not. But they so totally … you know … were. They were a they. A them. She and he. Us. Us's. Usses. Ussee? How would you spell that? He would know.
"Castle!" She shouted. She slide her head out of her self imposed hole. He immediately came over. His step a little lighter and a school boy grin eased on his face. Damn him. Why am I about to do this? I need to calm down.
"Come with me. I need your speed reading."
"Sure." She got up and they walked over to the elevator.
Got in. She pressed for the Lobby floor and stood next to him.
The door started to slide shut and knowing that no one could see through metal doors she threw herself onto him. Putting her lips on his and running her hands through his hair. He was only slightly take back and he put his arms around her in a reflexive response. Like a flytrap ensnaring a juicy big. She pulled away a bit and gathered herself.
She was going to say it now.
"Rick -" he was breaving heavy. Something big was about to happen. God I love her. So much.
He didn't know what was happening next but he had to interrupt and tell her how he felt.
Then they both spoke at the same time:
"I love you."
His heart picked up and she gasped.
Her face showed an instant of want. Her brow tensing and jaw loosening. Instantly tears rushed up to the surface of her eyes and she didn't want to show him how much their synchronicity meant to her. So she smother his lips with hers.
He'd never been like this. So much in passion and love of a single woman. He'd felt the surges of desire for the mother of his child. But they didn't work out.
His daughter forced automatic responses of smiling from birth to graduation. Alexis had brought him to a higher level. It was purely paternal and protective and maturing. Having his daughter made him want to be a man.
With Gina it was as equally sexual but there was money and security involved. Isn't that what Maslow's hierarchy preached? Basic, instinct, survival needs first and then the high functions like, pleasure, self awareness and self reflection secondary?
With her though – everything was earned. He had to behave like someone that was not going to hide from her. She'd made a living out of mentally and verbally nipple pulling the truth out of scum and murderers. His flashy grins, while attractive, never pulled her away from getting the truth out of him. He had to reveal truths about himself to get her to open up herself. Each time she came to the loft and each time she made her crack a grin, laugh or get physical with him she seemed – seemed – different?
Different. He had understood the challenge in front of him. Get her to let the walls down. She made the objective clear on the swingset. He knew he had to be more that what he had been.
(She had people profess their love before but it wasn't enough. Dunhum. Dr. Motorcycle Boy. A couple of boys in high school and the photographer in the photoshoot she had when she graduated. You know... the one where she was on the tennis courts? Yeah... You remember.)
The path that had been carved in front of her was full of danger and death and intrigue. He knew that. She stared that fact down like a motionless roach on the rail of train tracks to an oncoming beam of light that shook the ground it's belly laid on. He felt like he could be the Hulk that smashes the roaring engine and provide the cover with his muscles and rage of the debris, fire and explosion as the roach – cooly, clamly and collected scuttered away. Oblivious to the fact that, if not for him, she would be dead a dozen times by now.
She was tough but had no pull.
He had pull and was strong physically. But not tough. Not tough like a crusader. Not like her.
When he said "I love you" after she was shot she seemed so much more open internally.
Now her lips pulled his lower lip in. She gently . He went with the motion of her arching back and eased her onto the ground. Then the elevator door ding ed and slid open. They tried to make the best of their appearances. Got up quickly. Scuttered to their cars. (They drove seperately today per her decision) Then they both excelled on the roads to meet at his loft and have wild, uncontrolled, mouth consuming, torturous and loving sex.
Yeah. They had issues. But damnit it was their issues and no one or thing could keep them a part.
Except of course for them.