AN: Post-ep for 6x13, "Limelight".
Capture Your Heart
She should've expected it. She should've, but it still catches her by surprise, the lightning storm of flashlights, the barrage of questions shouted at them from all sides, the seemingly impenetrable wall of microphones and cameras and people, eager to glean bits of information, tear pieces from their private lives to devour them publicly, like vultures. It's not a completely new experience for her; she's had high-profile cases attract media attention before, has had the occasional run-in with paparazzi just being at Castle's side.
But this, this is an entirely new level of intrusiveness. She knows he's more than just 'somewhat' famous, of course, but the sheer amount of interest leaves her wondering if parts of the press had still been lingering after Mandy Sutton's recent departure, can't imagine that their engagement would draw quite as much interest. She feels for the girl, for the high-pressure life she must lead, the daily scrutiny and the complete lack of privacy; understands how a continuous dose of this would drive anybody to the brink of what they could handle. She's relieved that this isn't their life, at least not nearly to this extent – but if it were, she knows she would do it. For Castle, she'd brave it all.
When's the wedding…? …picked a date…? Look this way, Detective! …kiss… How long… been dating? Mr. Castle… When… happen? …found a dress yet…
It's only pieces and snippets that make it to her ears, the eager voices tumbling all over each other to get to them. She hooks her fingers between his, takes comfort in the pressure of his palm, his solid presence by her side; the ease and charm with which he deflects the tidal wave of questions and demands from all sides while they are forging their path down the stairs that lead out of the precinct.
She keeps the smile on her face; finds herself reveling in the small and unexpected thrill she feels that everybody now knows they are engaged, and the eagerness with which the news is greeted. It makes her grin stretch wide across her cheeks, aware how it'll glimmer and sparkle in her eyes while she gazes at him from the side. He's hers, Richard Castle is her fiancé, will be her husband - and the world knows it.
She doesn't so much think about it than just acts, a mix of giddiness, pride and pure joy welling through her, fueling her actions. One moment they step down the stairs, and the next she's turning into him, her hands rising up to grip around the collar of his shirt as she pulls him close, hips and chests clashing together as she fuses her mouth to his.
The surprise momentarily freezes Castle on the spot but she curls her tongue against his lower lip, nips at the plump flesh the way he can never resist and then he just melts into her, mouth opening beneath hers as his arm circles her back, his other hand coiling into her hair. She's vaguely aware of the flashlight explosion, the heightened energy of the crowd surrounding them but in that moment she doesn't care one bit, surprises even herself with this sudden urge to show everybody just how real this is. Let them see, let them all see. After ex-wives and insinuations, she wants every doubt to be removed, wants nobody to ever imply that this engagement might be no more than a publicity stunt.
She kisses him almost feverishly, her tongue playing with his, his mouth so soft and yet eager, urgent against hers. It reminds her of their first kiss, the heightened awareness of every touch, sound and taste - the kiss they used to just not talk about, the one she could never get out of her mind again no matter how hard she tried at the time. He groans a little, just loud enough for her to hear, to feel it vibrate against her lips and it makes her heart hammer in her chest, her skin flushing from head to toe, rushing heat into her cheeks.
Ever so slowly they part as one, their foreheads sinking together. She feels slightly dazed, would probably sway on the spot if he didn't have such a tight hold on her, his palm broad and protective against her back, and she's not even embarrassed.
In fact, she secretly hopes that someone got a good picture, that someone was able to capture the perfect feel and intensity and beauty of this moment between them, preserve it for all eternity. She wants that photo, wants to frame it and put it up in their bedroom next to their seashells. See it every night when she falls asleep and have it greet her every morning when she wakes up in his arms.
"You are just full of surprises," he murmurs, low enough that only she can hear it, sounding pleased and blissful and a little bit wondrous. "Thank you."
She smiles, the rush of warmth familiar as it tingles through her blood. She's just so in love with him.
"Always," she sighs in promise, their own unique promise. Because she is in this with him, for every part and moment of it, no matter what life will bring.