Picking Sides
"Get off my side," she groans, shoving at his shoulder without opening her eyes.
He pushes back, burrowing deeper into the pillow. "It's my bed. I get to pick my side first."
Kate crawls on top of him, straddling his hips, and glaring at him in the darkness. "I'm the guest. I want the right side." Before he can protest again, she hooks an arm around his neck and rolls them until he tumbles off the bed, arms flailing as he lands with a dull thump. Pleased with herself, she scoots back over to the right side of the bed, taking one of his pillows with her. Hugging the pillow to her chest, Kate closes her eyes.
Until cold fingers trace up along the arch of the foot dangling off the side of the bed and Kate doesn't have a chance to muffle the scream. She scrambles back toward the center of the bed and Castle appears on the other side of the bed, flopping back onto the contested side. "Victory is so very sweet," he sighs. Then his head falls onto the lack of pillows and glares at her. "You took all of them?"
She's buried in his pillows, the warm brown fabric making her skin glow. From the depths, he can see the little smile pulling at her lips as she regards him from behind her fortress. "You give me back that side, I'll give you the pillows." Daughter of lawyers. Expert at negotiation.
He hesitates, weighing the cost of giving up the side of the bed with regaining pillows. "Uh…"
"Okay then. I get to keep these." And then she places her cheek against one of them, eyes drifting shut. "Night, Castle."
"Wait!"
She peeks one eye open, watching him chew on his lower lip as he makes the decision. "Yes?"
"Why do we need sides?" He looks so happy with himself that she can't stop the light leaking into her eyes as he continues. "Why can't we just share the side? Together?" The mediator to her lawyer.
He's right, though. She pushes one of the pillows over next to his head. "Just for tonight."
Castle snags her wrist, tugging her across the sheets against him. He yanks the pillow between them away, stuffing it against the headboard. "No, Kate. Not just for tonight."
She knows he's talking about something other than the silly side of his bed that they're fighting over but she just tucks her head into his neck, kissing his collar lightly. "You'll cave."
"Challenge accepted," he responds, tipping her head up to press his lips to hers.
He's exhausted as he stumbles into the bedroom. Meetings piled on meetings plus sneaking out to the precinct to get lunch with his wife. Though the last bit he hadn't minded that much at all. So he's not looking when he strips off the jacket and dress shirt and pressed pants and falls into bed.
And right on top of Kate.
"Geez, Castle," she squeaks, shoving him away before he can get heavier on top of her. "Trying to kill us?"
From the ground, looking up, he can make out her outline, half-glaring at him from the bed. From his side of the bed, no less. Fear laces with the smallest amount of annoyance. "You guys okay?" he asks, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek, fingers brushing with her hair before continuing down her neck and arms to her side, resting on her stomach.
Her fingers weave through his, pressing down gently, and watching his face break out in a grin when the baby pushes right back. "We're a-okay."
"Good," he sighs in relief, getting up off the floor. "Cause we have to talk."
She shifts, half sitting up against the mound of pillows behind her. "'Bout what?"
"You're on my side." He squishes himself along the very edge of the bed, barely balanced.
"Hmmm." She's humming, the vibrations passing through her body to his and damn, she knows what that does to him. "But baby and I like this side."
Using their unborn son against him. Low blow, Kate Beckett. But he scooches over further, knees knocking with her thighs. "And I like this side."
"How many times we gonna fight over this?" she murmurs against his shoulder.
"Not fighting," he says, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, watching it unravel and fall back against the fabric of her t-shirt. "Friendly discussion over why this particular portion of the bed belongs to me and not you."
"What is so great about the right side of this bed anyway?"
She can feel him grin against her forehead. "You know exactly why."
There's that, she supposes. Not what she was getting at and he knows it.
"Well," Kate draws out, nipping lightly at his collar and kissing away the soft sting, "I'm sure you want me to be happy, right? And you want baby to be happy."
"Kate…" A warning he groans out as he tightens his hold on her forearm.
"So, let us have this side until he's born. Then we can negotiate."
"Nope. Because you two make me happy and this side makes me happy so let's all just cuddle over here like we always do and be happy together. Okay?"
She sighs and tangles her legs with his, letting him sneak his arm under her head so she can rest on it. "Fine. But someday…" she trails off as she drifts back into sleep.
"That was nice," she says, stretching her arms up over her head and leaning to one side.
"That was a firm dose of reality that I'd rather not have dealt with," he counters, coming up behind her and looping his arms over her waist.
She twists in his hold, tapping his cheek with her hand. "Feeling your age, Grandpa?"
"God, Kate, that is no way to charm me," he moans, tightening his arms enough to pull her flush against his body.
"Don't need anyone to inflate your ego any more than it already is." Still, she reaches up to thread her hand through his hair, long since gone white with age.
They separate into their routines, brushing teeth and washing faces and changing into pajamas. And meet back on that side. That same side they've fought over since night number one.
"Just this once," he starts, finding her hand and linking their fingers, "can we share without having to debate why each of us deserve it?"
Kate leans her head against his shoulder, her own hair still clinging to the honey brown, threading through the white in her braid, and sighs. "I suppose. Too old for pillow fights now."
"Too old for pillow fights?" he scoffs a moment before grabbing up one of the items and swinging it around.
She's still fast, even after these years and years without close-quarters sparring practice or skirmishing with suspects, and she's under the arch of the pillow and on the bed before he can continue the spin back to the start point. And as his mouth falls open in a mixture of shock and awe, she whips one of the other pillows up and hits him in the stomach.
He groans and she can't hold back the giggle, pulling the comforter up over her face to hide the grin. "Think you're the one too old for pillow fights, Castle."
Kate can feel him climb onto the bed, knees on either side of her hips as he tugs the blankets down to see her face. "You'll pay dearly for that."
"Oh, but I've already won." He arches a brow and she wiggles under the covers. "I'm on my side."
He slides under the blankets, pressing cold toes against her shins and relishing the shiver that travels up her body. "When are you going to learn, Kate? It's our side. It's always been our side."