Disclaimer: Castle is not mine.
A/N: I wrote this awhile ago. Never posted it but I'm going through old fics on my computer and trying to weed through them. I decided I'm going to post at least a few of them. Even the fluffy cheesy ones. Like this one, for example. Enjoy.
She waits for him, curled up on her side of the bed and listening to the quiet clacking of the keyboard. He's been in there for hours. Something must have inspired because he missed dinner, didn't even notice when she took him a tumbler of scotch. He barely even grunted at her when she tried to talk to him about something. It's fine. It will keep. For quite awhile if she's right.
It's late. Early. Whatever. It's almost two and he's still typing, pausing occasionally. She can see it without even being in the room with him. The way he rubs his wrists, his eyes scanning for typos or run-ons. He's meticulous. He's focused when he writes. After he's procrastinated as long as possible or when he just gets struck with the urge. He focuses so intensely and she's left in awe of him. The same man that can't sit still in the precinct when she has paperwork but he can be in the same chair for hours pouring out his thoughts and feelings into fictional characters. It amazes her.
Some nights she falls asleep to the sounds of him in his office. The way he putters around and the press of keys. Other nights she wakes to it and sometimes she follows the sound, joins him and he lets her sit with him as he creates Nikki and Rook. But on this night, she just waits him out. She stays awake and waits for the soft click of him shutting his laptop. It'll be soon. He's been at it all evening and she knows his back can't handle it much longer.
She can't sleep. Her brain won't let her. It won't shut up or slow down and that's fine because she needs to wait for him. She could go to him, make him pay attention but she doesn't. She gives him the time he needs and he'll come to bed when he's done with her alter ego. She's never been jealous of Nikki. Never been upset that he sometimes leaves her in bed alone, or doesn't come to bed at all. She's a cop. She's guilty of doing the same thing. It's how their relationship works. They love each other enough to know it's not a big deal.
She's still staring at the elephant on the wall, not even seeing it but lost in thought when she hears the creak of the chair. He's up. And the sound of quiet footsteps has her smiling into her pillow. He probably thinks she's sleeping by now. Long days at the precinct usually have her zonked but she's still buzzing. She listens, doesn't even pretend to be asleep when he slides in. She feels the bed dip, feels his weight shift and the warmth of him as he reaches for her. And she can sense the change in him, the moment he realizes she isn't sleeping. It's in the fingertips sliding over her hip, around to rest over her stomach, the way they pause and then tickle at the skin her shirt has ridden up to reveal.
She wiggles back into him, the backs of her thighs pressed to the tops of his. And it's then, with his fingers stroking softly and his breath warm on her neck that she knocks him loose, turns in his hold until she's face to face in the dark. Her legs tangle easily with his, her arm drapes over his ribs, her fingers stroke down his back and she nudges his nose with her own. She can see his eyes glittering in the dim moonlight, watches them close when she smooths a kiss over his lips. He has a perfect mouth. Silky and decadent. So easy to get lost in but she doesn't. Not yet. She resists the heat.
She pulls back just as his tongue rubs over her bottom lip. Later she'll let him in, open up and be consumed by the sensuality he's offering.
"Hey." It comes out as a whisper. Which doesn't make sense to her. Why do people whisper in the dark?
"Hey." The pad of his thumb strokes her cheek, his fingers in her hair and she could easily fall asleep just like this on any other night. Not this one. "You're not sleeping."
"No."
"You okay?" He's so gentle with her that sometimes she forgets he's real. Sometimes she thinks she's dreaming, and then he usually says something ridiculous and she knows better. But tonight he's gentle.
His fingertips questioning as they warm her scalp, she presses her cheek into his touch. Seeking him. Wanting more as her stomach flops in thinly veiled excitement.
She nods. The pillow crinkling with the motion of it and just when she thinks he's about to ask again, she pushes another soft kiss against his mouth.
"Just waiting for you."
"Kate," the sound of her name has always been her weakness. The way he says it shoots straight down her spine. "Why didn't you come get me?"
"Tried earlier. You were lost in Nikki and Rook and it's okay. Everything is okay."
He's confused. She can taste it on him when she kisses his jaw. When she smiles against his skin and nuzzles impossibly closer. She's clinging a little, cuddling into him and he doesn't seem to mind one bit. He never does.
"Am I missing something?" He is. He is but she's fighting it, fighting the lump that lodges itself in her throat and the tears that gather on her lashes.
She feels stupid for it. Crazy. She's crazy with it and she has no idea now what she's supposed to say. She pulls back, nudges at his nose again, makes him look at her.
She could drag it on, keep him guessing and the thought is appealing after he's been so busy writing. Her turn to make him wait but she doesn't. She can't because it's bursting out of her. Her skin is buzzing with it and she knows he feels it too. There's no putting it off.
So she strokes her hand up to the back of his neck, plays with the ends of his hair as she whispers it like a secret. Theirs to keep. And only theirs to hear. Something sacred and treasured.
"I think I'm pregnant." She barely gets it out, barely says the words before he's brushing a tear off her lashes, sipping from her lips.
Soft short kisses. Over and over. His smile pressing to hers again and again. She breathes it in. Can feel his words.
"A baby?"
"I haven't taken a test. I don't know. I wanted to wait for you." And she has. She waited and they'll find out together. They'll find out if they've created a miracle.
"Kate."
"You think we can just lay here awhile?" She's not letting him go, hopes he doesn't plan on escaping for anything because she's locked around him. "I've waited all evening. I just want to stay like this, don't fall asleep on me yet."
"I'm not even tired now."
"Good."
"A baby. We're gonna have a baby."
"We don't know yet. Not for sure." But she's pretty sure. She is. She knows her body and things are off. Things have been happening. And even though it's not confirmed, she already feels his hand sneaking between their bodies, the backs of his fingers caressing her lower abdomen.
He wants this and it terrifies her just how much she wants it too. She never thought when she married him that she'd cry over the thought of being pregnant, but she is. And she thinks maybe he is too. She can feel it when he kisses her. The moisture on his cheeks. It mixes with her own. Everything is more than okay.