A/N: Yes, it's another Cuffed-inspired story. Just like every other one being published today. Do I regret joining in this spree? Not at all.
Disclaimer: I could never, ever manage that level of perfection. Not even if I took perfection classes.
Central Park was normally crowded. Tourists from across the world just had to come and wander around a stretch of grass only because it was in the middle of Manhattan. It was really no different from any other park. Except for today, the softball fields in the middle of it were filled with cops.
Most weren't wearing their uniform. Instead, blues and uncomfortable shoes were traded for jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers while neatly made buns were replaced with ponytails. Guns were still attached to their hips and badges were clipped to waistbands out of habit.
Each precinct had claimed a patch of grass, their blankets creating a patchwork of color over the center ground in the cluster of softball fields. The smell of hamburgers and hot dogs drifted over to everyone's noses bringing with it the promise of food after the last game of softball between the Fourth and the Eighteenth Precincts. Most of the people in attendance had gathered along the edge of the field, cheering for whoever was up to bat.
Kate wasn't cheering with the rest of the crew from the Twelfth. She was laying out on a soft purple blanket, squinting up into the sun through her sunglasses.
"You know that's dangerous, right?"
She turned her head to see Castle sitting down next to her, inching onto her blanket. She slid over, giving him more space. "I'll dance on the wild side with this one." She tapped the corner of her glasses. "I'm protected."
"Yes, well, I don't think a thin layer of plastic will protect you from the harsh rays of the sun beating down on those gorgeous eyes of yours."
Kate rolled those eyes behind that layer of plastic, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off her forehead. "I'll take my chances. Who's winning?"
"Me." The punch to the arm was expected but still stung. "Oh, you mean the game! I think the Eighteenth is winning right now."
"Shit. Esposito will not be happy about that." She rolled over to prop her head up, watching as one of the Narcotics detectives from that precinct hit a homerun. "He had money riding on the Fourth."
He scooted back, giving her more room. "I'm surprised you aren't watching, baseball fan like you."
"Saving my energy." Kate flopped back onto the blanket, her sunglasses sliding onto her forehead crookedly. Their hands rubbed against each other as they both went to fix the glasses. She swallowed quickly, letting her hand fall back to the blanket as he settled the frames back into place. "Thanks."
"Anytime." His fingers lingered a second longer against her temple before he folded them across his chest. "So, you ready to do this race?"
She shrugged. "Sure. I mean, it's all about teamwork really."
"And we're a good team," he added with a definite nod.
"Yeah, we are. Nothing to worry about." Her hand crept out to the side, grabbing a grape from her bowl and letting it fall into her mouth. "Piece of cake."
"Do I get to go first?"
She laughed, turning over fix him with a glare. "Not on your life. I want to win this event, not make a fool of the precinct."
"Oh, we'll win, Detective. Count on it."
A loud roar interrupted them as the softball game finished up. Ryan was walking over with Esposito, the former gloating while the latter sulked.
"Swear you rigged it," muttered Esposito, handing over twenty-five dollars to his partner.
"My hand to God, I just did the research. The Eighteenth has better players." Ryan sat on his own blanket, stealing a grape from Kate's bowl. "So, you ready to kick serious ass in this race, you two?"
Kate crossed her feet at the ankles, swatting Ryan's hand away as he went back for a second piece of fruit. "Totally."
One of the brass had a megaphone that he held up, calling all of the teams over to a start line marked by a piece of rope. Kate pushed up off the blanket, holding a hand down to pull Castle to his feet.
"Let's do this, partner."
There was a pair of detectives from each precinct in Manhattan all lined up along the start line. Some were stretching or throwing insults at other teams.
"Nervous yet, Beckett?"
She flashed a smile at the Vice detective from the Thirty-First Precinct. "Have you ever known me to be nervous, Davies?"
"Maybe you should start. You've got that one," he said, waving toward Castle, "to work with."
"Yeah, well, look at your partner." Davies's partner, a stocky man with a thinning patch of blonde hair, was examining his manicured fingers. "He won't want to chip a nail."
The other detective left Kate alone to warn his race buddy that he needed to stop acting like a girl. When Kate turned around, Castle was far too close.
"A little space?" she said, giving him a shove away.
"Just jumping to the aid of the damsel in distress," he replied, ducking away from the hand that shot out for his ear. "Geez. Man tries to be a gentleman in this day and age with all you liberated women and this is what he gets."
"Oh so tough to be-"
A voice through the megaphone cut off the end of her statement. "Okay folks! We're going to get this show on the road. But of course we need to honor the occasion here, so…"
Esposito and Ryan tapped Kate's shoulder, dangling two sets of handcuffs over her head. "Here's your chance to try this again."
"Seriously?" she said, glancing between the cuffs and the other two men.
Ryan shrugged. "Police picnic. Makes sense to me."
She rolled her eyes, taking the ankle cuffs and bending down to snap one around her right leg. "Come on, Castle. Give me your leg."
As soon as she straightened, the other metal ring looped around Castle's left ankle, Esposito had the second set of cuffs around their wrists. "Hope you got that rhythm down still."
"Remember. The pride of the Twelfth rides on your shoulders." Ryan clapped Castle on the shoulder. "Break a leg."
"Or not. Since you're missing one now."
The two headed back to hang with the rest of the precinct.
As Castle opened his mouth to comment, Kate turned, pulling her wrist so he was tugged closer. Even in sneakers, she still managed to glare at him and make him swallow uncomfortably. "You screw this up and we'll never, ever hear the end of it. So let me lead and everything will be fine."
He didn't have a chance to respond before the man with the megaphone started to list of rules and give a rundown of the course. Next to them, Davies and his partner were arguing.
"Which leg first?" Castle asked, ignoring the announcements and looking over at Kate.
She didn't look back. "Middle."
"Why the middle?"
"God, Castle!" she exclaimed, turning to face him. "You're going to argue about this? Is this going to happen every time we're handcuffed together?" He aimed a kick to her leg which she dodged. "Don't go injuring the team before the race."
Kate reached up to pull her hair into a ponytail, Castle's hand following. The presence of his hand had her hair tangling up in the elastic, the ponytail turning into a complete mess that she didn't bother fixing. She just needed it out of her face so she could be the one person of this team that was focused.
They talked strategy quickly before the flare was shot into the air. While they certainly weren't the first pair off the starting line, they were within the first five.
The course went from the fields out to West Drive, then circled back to the field, the starting line becoming the end. Kate and Castle maintained a steady pace until they had to turn around at West. Arguments began over how fast one was running or if the other was jerking their arms too much. There were a few stumbles despite the flat course.
As they rounded the corner of the path near the Delacorte Theater, they stumbled for the last time. Castle's leg swung too far left and tripped Kate up. With a strangled scream, the two of them tumbled into the grass. Davies and the short, balding partner laughed as they finally passed them.
"Castle! Get off me and get back up on the path!" Kate said, shoving against his chest with her uncuffed hand.
But her hand froze against his chest when he shifted his head, his lips ghosting across her cheek. They pressed against her skin as he groaned, "Ouch."
What happened next Kate can't, or won't, explain. It started as a move in orders to glare at the man sprawled on top of the right side of her body, to make him get back up and into the race. Except he hadn't shifted his face from next to hers after his exclamation of pain.
Kate found herself suddenly kissing him. Behind a row of bushes. In the middle of a race. At the annual police picnic. Wearing hand and ankle cuffs.
And not really minding any of it. Not even the rock digging into her lower back or the fact that the slightest glance over those bushes would reveal something other than dirt and wildflowers.
It was Castle who pulled back, halfway rolling away but letting his right hand trail over her jaw.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.
Her unsteady puffs of breath across his cheek were one type of answer, though she could later blame that on the short run they managed to complete before falling down. She still tried to respond coherently. "I have no idea."
"Then let's try it again. Thorough investigation and all that." Castle's words and a flash of his crooked smile were her only warnings as he replaced his lips over hers.
Kate pushed her head up into the kiss, sighing softly. She heard pairs running past them, shouts of victory mingling with insults being thrown at rival precincts. When they separated from a mutual need for oxygen, she gave him a light nip on his lower lip.
"I figured it out." He raised a brow, his fingers of the hand joined to hers playing with her soil-caked hair. "That was another one of our rhythms."
He swallowed, using one hand as leverage next to her ear. "Well, as much as I enjoyed that particular rhythm, there's a race to be finished." In a crouch at her side, he gave a tug on their cuffed wrists. "Come on, Detective Beckett. We can perfect our rhythms, all of them, after we cross the finish line."
"We've lost already," she said, standing up. She smiled as he reached around her to brush dirt from her the back of her tee shirt and jeans.
"But we both know you need to cross that line in order to feel like you accomplished anything." Feeling bold, he wrapped his left hand, the one attached to her right wrist, around her back, pulling her close to him. Her hand was trapped behind her back, her free left hand coming up to hold onto his shoulder. "You are so very competitive," he murmured, giving her one last kiss before starting back toward the path.
Two painful minutes of bickering over footing and speed, they managed to cross the rope that marked the end of the race course. They weren't dead last; a pair of overweight detectives who must have drawn the short straw in the precinct were behind them.
Ryan and Esposito were leading the pack of unpleased cops from the Twelfth when Kate and Castle finally got themselves uncuffed, rubbing their wrists while balancing food on the walk back to the collection of blankets.
"Where were you guys?" Esposito shouted from around a burger. "You got us in last place."
"Well, not last place, Esposito," Kate shot back, sitting down on her blanket and stabbing a piece of potato and popping it into her mouth. "We beat the Eighth."
Ryan snorted. "Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum? I lost the twenty-five I earned from the softball game because of your… What exactly were you doing?"
"Working out our rhythm. It's different when there isn't a hungry tiger on your heels." Castle crunched down on a chip. "Took a while to figure it out."
"Maybe we should have gotten that tiger back here. I can't believe we lost to the Thirty-First and that creep Davies." Esposito was obviously as bitter as his partner about the whole picnic.
Neither Ryan nor Esposito saw Castle lean over and slip a chip into Kate's mouth as she traded him a piece of potato salad. He kept his mouth close to her ear as he whispered, "I'm willing to lose a leg in order mess up our rhythm any time you want, Detective."
She shoved him away so she could take a bite of her burger, but he caught the teasing catch of her lower lip between her teeth as she did. "Shut up, Castle."
A/N: I liked the idea of them completely failing at this race, but still winning, if you know what I mean.
Reviews would be fantastic. Seriously. Make me smile.