A/N:
Well. Lets say that this thing happened. Sometime towards the end of season 5 or during season 6.
I own nothing, make no profit out of writing here. The show Castle and the carachters in it belong to wonderful A. W. Marlowe and ABC. I just put words into some kind of order and use the names and faces from the show. Nor I own any of the referred work you might recognise.
Rating T just to be safe. There are suggesstions... suggestive undertones?
What's wrong with him?
What's happened?
Doesn't he have charm?
And the fact he is handsome in a rugged way should be helpful, too, shouldn't it?
Then why in the name of god isn't this working?
She keeps her distance.
She is cold, so cold that her death glare is like some kind of freeze ray, stopping him in his tracks whenever their eyes meet.
She wouldn't accept his apology, even when he promised that it won't ever happen again. He shudders and glances towards the break room.
She's still in there.
Oh well. Better get this over with. He shrugs and puffs air in and out of his lungs to get his bloodstream running again, because his feet... well, they don't seem to be functioning.
He shifts, turning on his spot sideways to the breakroom and strains his eyes to the left, while facing straight in front of him. His peripheral vision, honed as a writer, is telling him that the target is still on spot. Alone, drinking her coffee as usual. It's his only chance to make amends, because this... he... he made a mistake. A man should be allowed to screw up once or twice (at least). Right? Right.
Yes, he should've kept his hands to himself. He should've known better. But those legs... long and... that perfectly bent, curvy ass... No, no. Wait. Fine. Fine. They are at work, after all, so he kind of gets the angry part. The angry part –
Ohh. And what would've happened if she had stumbled across the scene? Her fury is the worst. Her rules about the behaviour at the precinct have been made very clear, about what is proper and what is not...
Oh, man. He would be dead. He will be dead.
Dead!
Brushing sweaty palms against his thighs, he closes his eyes and counts to three.
"Yo. Have you had lunch yet? Man, I'm starving."
Castle shrieks and takes a step back.
The Detective looks amused, raising his eyebrow towards his dark hairline and chuckles. "Heh, calm down, didn't mean to scare you like that. Everything alright, bro? You want some coffee?"
Castle knits his brows together, trying to hide the panicky little glint that must be in his eyes. He nods. "Yeah, I'm… I'm fine, but... no way."
"No way what?"
"I mean... no way you can get... coffee in there. It's broken. The - the machine broke down."
"Whaaat?"
"Yeah. No coffee. Sorry, Sito. I was just... about to go and... look into it. Don't bother to go in there." The writer does little dance-like moves in front of his friend, shifting his back towards the breakroom to block the other man's way. Is he really doing that? Volunteering to be left alone with this woman of fury, who, by the way, has almost finished her lunch break?
Esposito coughs out a friendly laugh. "You? You're gonna fix it?"
"Yes, me." He grows serious and puffs his chest out. Why would he ask something like that? Like he didn't know how to fix a coffee machine or something. Okay, so he didn't assemble it himself, but he would be totally capable of reading the manual. Not that he'd get any help from the Fury inside that room. Nope.
"Oh, alright. Don't got a lot of time. I'll just get a coke from the machine."
"Yes! Coke. Coke it is!" Castle smiles and eagerly slaps Esposito's shoulder. Too eagerly as it turns out, because he makes his friend sway on his spot. Lucky for him Esposito doesn't comment, only gives him a strange look as before, just with less amusement in it.
That kind of a day.
Once alone, Castle takes a deep breath and dives into the break room. Because that is what brave men do when they are on a quest for forgiveness from a woman. They dive, eyes closed, into the pitch black. And pray.
"Umm..." Now or never. He is so nervous that he almost forgets to let her speak, too. "Please, hear me out. I really, really apologize." He stares at more of the wall somewhere to the right of her head, and catches only a slender body turning on her chair, long hair whipping over one shoulder.
"What?"
His body is poised. "I... I know I made a mistake, but I am truly sorry. And to make this up to you, let me... I bought theatre tickets. Much Ado About Nothing. You know, uh, wonderful actors, comedy. Might help to see things - life - on the brighter side… I think you'd enjoy it."
Well, this didn't go exactly the way he imagined it, but at least the offer is out there now... And he is here. Standing. Waiting. A fiercely strained smile pursing his lips and his hand - oh, quite a steady hand - holding two tickets out.
"Enjoy it? Enjoy it? Like you enjoyed accidentally bumping straight into my - my backside? In the most crowded hallway on the whole floor? Thank God no one seemed to see it."
Her voice fades as she looks away, over his shoulder. Thank God - away from him, because his cheeks were getting quite hot already. Humiliation Red is not exactly his colour.
"Oh." She clears her throat, and Castle follows her gaze behind him as she acknowledges the newcomer to the break room. "Detective Beckett."
The woman at the threshold is frozen in place, hand in mid-air to find leverage from the doorframe.
"Castle? Please tell me that what Captain Gates just said here is a joke." Her voice is almost a whisper. And apparently she finds that blend of hot and red not her type, either, because for a moment she closes her eyes and turns her face away from both of them. When she looks at them again, she has a whole mix of emotions colouring her face, and none of them named forgiveness or humor. It's... It's pain.
"Wait, Ka- Beckett. Detective Beckett, let me explain." Now, if the earth would only open up under him...
"Explain?"
"It was dim," he stammers.
"Dim? And that makes it all okay?" Another set of fury-eyes freeze him in place.
"Uh. No... The bulb... was broken." Castle looks down, feeling sorry for himself. "And I haven't seen you in like..." He turns his gaze towards the ceiling now, because getting sucked into the universe's vacuum right this minute would be fine, too. "...like ages. Almost two days." (Only two?) "I missed you and I am sorry. Sorry." He still stares at the ceiling. He's stubborn like that. "Moments before I saw you disappearing around the corner in that direction and the next, I practically stumbled into a woman, bending, looking for something on the ground and..." He stutters and lowers his gaze towards the women, one and then the other.
Kate isn't breathing and - is she losing a little colour on her cheeks?
Gates is shifting…
He's missing something. Something... Something obvious...?
And then it dawns on him. Beckett sees the moment as his eyes slowly bulge from their sockets and his face falls.
Oh no. No.
The Captain coughs and straightens her posture. "Mr Castle, I'll let you know once more that this kind of behaviour is not tolerated around here. Have you forgotten about that bracelet fiasco? Now this? Your luck is running out." The Captain's voice is cold, so very cold and firm and piercing. But the tiniest bit of her tone is falling flat and fractured. "You get off the hook only because no one witnessed this. Is that clear?"
Castle barely nods. "Yes, Sir."
The next moment, the Captain is swooshing past them, lips pressed into a tight line, leaving the tickets untouched.
Sorry. That's the right word on so many levels. He feels sorry for the mishap and for himself, because he was weak just for this one moment and now he is paying with a big chunk of his pride. He stands there, unhappily, with slumped shoulders.
A sudden muffled noise bursts from his partner. He looks at her face. Is she...? She is. She is laughing. To her credit, Beckett really tries to hold on to the serious face, but tiny hiccups burst in her throat and surface behind her hand covering her mouth. They keep coming up until they reach into her eyes and then she is laughing openly, shoulders shaking.
Although the sharp glint has never left her eyes, she finally calms enough to ask in a lowered tone, "What is wrong with you this morning? Have you lost it? I really don't know which is worse - groping at the precinct or thinking that Gates' ass is mine."
Castle gives her a look from below his half-shut eyelids, stating the obvious. "You won't be forgetting this any time soon, will you?"
"Nope. And when we get home I guarantee you will be looking at my backside for quite some time..."
And just like that she is out the door, leaving him behind to take in what she said.
One. Two...
"Wait. Do you mean that in an offended 'I can't even look at you' sort of way or an inviting 'come study me' sort of way? ...Beckett? ...Kate?"
A/N: I hate to leave poor Castle hanging like that, but I'm sure they'll work it out ;)
Big, big thank you to my Beta Rachel for editing, fixing, liking (I could've used you for my A/N, too, you know) :D
As I haven't posted here for so long, I hope I get the text size and formatting correct. Should there be any trouble, you can let me know and I'm happy to fix it.
Any thought is a good thought ;)