"This is the last time," he tells her, approaching her bed with a tube of Ritz crackers in one hand and a jar of peanut butter in the other, "I'm not coming over here for another booty call if you continue to refuse to grocery shop."
She raises an eyebrow and casually flips the comforter off, exposing her naked body to him, "you sure?"
He quirks his lips before muttering, "Opportunist."
On Tuesday, Kate's exhausted and although she'd love nothing more than a swim in his tub and to sleep on the cloud he calls a bed, she hasn't been home all weekend and she worries her landlord will declare the apartment abandoned.
To top it off, their main suspect is on the run.
"Dinner?" he asks without turning away from their murder-board, "cause I know you've got nothing to eat at home."
"Okay, Castle, I concede your point, I need to buy food."
Appreciation crosses his face, as he turns to smile at her, "thank you."
"For what?"
"For finally conceding to something, now, you gonna let me take you on a therapeutic shopping adventure as my prize?" He's holding out her coat for her to slip into.
She considers him as they move to the elevator, what could it hurt?
"Fine Castle, what is your solution to my shopping aversion?"
"You just need to see it for what it is," he says, guiding her by the elbow on to the elevator, "procuring stamina, Detective."
The Trader Joe's on 20th and Broadway is delightfully empty at 8PM, and he's all but dragging her through the door. Grabbing a cart, he cajoles her.
"Get on."
She looks at him dumbfounded.
"Put your feet on the bar and ride Beckett."
"Castle, I am not ten years old, I'm not riding on the cart."
"Fine, then I'm riding," he manages to balance himself on the front of the cart so that it doesn't tip, but she's crossed her arms.
"I am not pushing you through the store, Castle."
"You drive the car every day and do I complain? No, because we are partners Kate, you and me, and now I want to help you have a little fun and you refuse. Why do you think I wanted to come with you ?"
"Something about procuring your stamina?"
"And who do you think benefits from all my manliness?
She rolls her eyes and walks past him.
He rides his cart past her as she examines the produce section. She manages to grab the back of his belt to stop him.
"Uh huh Beckett, hands off the manliness if you're not going to play."
"Yeah, I'd like not to have to restock that pile of grapefruit, thank you very much."
"Did that one time with Alexis, knocked over a whole display of watermelon. We ran. Haven't back to Vine's Market in years. She still won't let me push the cart."
"Well as much as I'd like to say I'm shocked, Castle, I think it is more important that I tell Alexis I admire her ability to overcome."
"Ha, ha, Kate. Now, let's get you some limes."
"I am not re-enacting page 105, again."
"Oh Kate, if we do it right, I can write it into my next book. We do *not* have to live in the past."
She slaps him in the chest and then leans over to pick apples from the bin in front of her. She holds one up.
"Apples?" He questions.
"Thank you for using your safe word. I respect your desire for all this salaciousness to stop." With that she walks away. He can't help smirking in admiration. Oh yeah, she's definitely his equal.
Slipping the limes in the cart while she's perusing the vegetables, he brushes up behind her and whispers in her ear, "I like the way you handle those cucumbers Detective." The old lady in the Pepto-Bismol-pink coat picking out mushrooms must have overheard, because she's giving him the eye.
"I like your mushrooms too, ma'am."
"Pervert," the woman mutters, walking away.
Kate watches her amble down the aisle a moment before hissing at him, "Castle, I am obligated to uphold the law here, please don't make me arrest you for sexually harassing an old lady."
"I'll admit, there are occasional . . . casualties to my charm."
"Yeah, well, try not to make me one of them."
They wander down a few aisles and she fends off his selections.
"Castle, you are on the wrong side of thirty for anything with marshmallows. I am not keeping that at my house."
"Let me remind you of the advantages here Beckett, sta-min-a."
"Well, then let's re-evaluate that caramel sauce purchase."
"Oh Kate, that's not stamina, that's inspiration."
She rolls her eyes. "Then you need to choose," she says turning to him, "you can lick the spoon after a bowl of cereal or you can lick caramel sauce off me."
Suddenly, a flash of pink catches her attention and a hazy grey eye tracks the younger woman as she skirts the narrow aisle. In the air? The distinct scent of Chanel No.5, and disapproval.
He gooses her when she bends over to grab the crackers on the bottom shelf. When she straightens, her lips may be quirked in disapproval, but it's not quite reaching her eyes.
She returns the favor two aisles over while he's lifting a box of her laundry detergent.
In the frozen food aisle she finally relents and puts her feet on the bar of the cart, letting him take her for a ride. She surrenders mostly because he's insisted they both push the cart and it's really too many tangled legs when he insists on standing behind her encircling her and they try to walk at the same pace.
They pass up the pet food aisle where the old woman is standing.
Unfortunately, it's at the same moment Castle's hands have wander from pushing the cart, to pushing Kate.
He isn't careful about his hand placement.
They are approaching the cashier when her cell rings, its Esposito with an update. They've found their suspect.
"Go, Kate. I'll bring this stuff back to your place."
A glance back as she heads out the automatic doors confirms her suspicions; he's watching her leave, a sweet smile for her spread across his face.
Hours later she finds him asleep in her bed, the dim light from the bathroom shadowing his face. A rush of tenderness fills her, but when she lifts back the covers on her side, the shuffle of plastic gives her pause.
"Ah, you're back," a throaty whisper greets her.
"Castle, why are there plastic bags in my bed?"
"Aversion therapy," he's patting the mattress, but not quite opening his eyes.
He ought to know by now that explanation isn't going to appease her. She waits. He rubs his hands over his face and relents.
"You know, like when people are afraid to fly, they put them in a simulator, help them work their way up to an actual plane ride?"
"Why are you telling me this?" She compulsively pulls the bags from between the sheets.
"No, no Kate," Castle grabs her wrist, "this is for you, for your food shopping issues. If we make out on these bags, the next time you need to go to the store, you'll remember this moment and you will race off to shop. Crisis averted."
"You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met."
"Oh, but I'm sexy Detective, you can't resist me." And damn him, he's kissing the back of her hand and peering up at her leaving no doubt of his adoration. Or arrogance.
Her lips quirk a moment before he gives her trapped hand a hard tug and she falls onto the bed.
"No need to be scared Detective. We can take this slow."
"Ha."
But she lets him manhandle her up against his side, bags rustling around them until he can't help raising himself up on an elbow to peer down at her.
"Just relax Kate. I'm a professional, there is nothing to fear."
"Kiss me you idiot."
Their kiss is a little more drawn out than she thought. He hadn't been subtle all evening and she knew him, it wouldn't be easy for him to slow down after all that foreplay. But it's so nice with him. So very, very nice when his soft lips touch hers, when he lets her know he wants her, exalts her, leans over her with his gentle-giant body to remind her of his surprising patience when it comes to her.
She presses her forehead into his with a happy sigh, "I think I may need more of your therapy, Mr. Castle."
"Oh, I can definitely help you there, Kate. Did I ever tell you my thoughts on sex with crazy people?"