February 14, 2016

It's Castle and Beckett's wedding night and things have not gone according to plan. Rated M for steamy love scenes. Note: I do not write erotica. The sexy parts may not be explicit, but they earned their rating, to be sure. If Rated-M isn't your thing and you are wondering how essential these scenes are to the story, suffice it to say, The Wedding Night chapters 1-2 are a lot of fun but you won't miss anything essential to the story. (Of course it's easy to skip over the steamy part...)

Sitting in a Tree, Backwards

PART TWO

Epic Fail

CHAPTER ONE

The effects of the Champagne were wearing off, and two small furrows were embedded between Kate Beckett—Kate Castle's—eyebrows. Her lips pressed together in a firm line. The mini-dress she wore was spangled with sequins and lace, revealing alabaster skin beneath. The short hemline showed off her long legs and red pumps which glittered as she strode down Broadway Avenue—tried to stride. Striding was not truly possible in such shoes.

Unbelievable. This is unbelievable! she fumed, kicking off her shoes and carrying them.

The shiny black limousine had pulled to a smooth stop at the hotel's red carpet, and Castle got out first, holding her beaded clutch. He was about to turn and help her out of the limo when someone shouted his name and flashbulbs went off. He whirled, blocking her exit with either hand on the door frame as questions flew.

"Mr. Castle, are you attending the Governor's Gala tonight?"

"Who is your date, Mr. Castle?"

"And whose blue and white garter is on your arm?"

"Did you come from a wedding, Mr. Castle?"

He blinked in the bright bursts of light, licking his lips as his agile mind groped for a cover story. "Yes, I am attending the society gala tonight, but I came from another event—alone. No date tonight," he promised with his most charming smile, slamming the limo door as he stepped onto the red carpet, rumpled and brazen but wearing a million dollar smile.

Watching from the limousine, Kate saw him tug a bill out of his wallet and pass it to the chauffeur.

"That'll do for now. Have a good night." he said a little too loudly as he meandered to the building, a bellman following with Kate's overnight bag; most of her luggage was delivered to their suite hours ago.

The chauffeur took the cash and bobbed his head up and down, looking confused.

But Kate's purse was still in Castle's hand, her wedding garter still on his arm. The reporters noticed.

"Mr. Castle, Mr. Castle!" shouted an auburn-haired reporter. "Whose purse is that if you are alone?"

"And whose garter?"

Kate gritted her teeth, scowling.

"Why does that garter resemble a wedding garter, Mr. Castle? Did you and your ex-wife renew your vows?"

Castle froze for a second, but it was enough.

"Did you get re-married tonight, Mr. Castle?"

"Who is the new Mrs. Castle?"

"What does your inspiration for Nikki Heat say about your new marriage?"

Kate never heard his response. The knot of reporters surged forward, following him as he approached the hotel, except the auburn haired reporter, who back-tracked, peering into the limo's tinted windows. Just as he turned to acknowledge their questions, the car door slammed and there was a low hum as the chauffeur lowered the privacy barrier between them. She met the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Can I take you somewhere, Ma'am?" he asked. His eyes were huge and he looked very young.

She blew her hair out of her face. "Do you know another entrance to the Rivermark? Something private?"

"No, Ma'am. I made some drops here earlier this evening, even the service entrances are blocked off for security."

Kate heartily wished for her phone, but it too was in her purse, with Castle. She frowned, wishing her thoughts were clearer, and that she'd enjoyed not quite so much Champagne at their wedding.

"Let me off a couple blocks away and… drive around the block or something." Then she muttered, "I'll need a disguise."

The limo slid to a stop and Kate did not wait for the chauffeur to open the door before staggering out. Ignoring the cat calls and wolf whistles, Kate moved up Broadway, searching for inspiration. Late night costume shops and clothing stores were plentiful in this part of New York, but they did her no good as Castle still carried her handbag.

"Damn!" she muttered again, wishing for her phone or cash, preferably both. Even if she borrowed a phone, it wouldn't help because she'd never memorized Castle's phone number. Her frown deepened. Leaving the party, she'd given little thought to anything except getting Castle alone for the first time. Then the photographers showed up.

The paparazzi were a nightmare for celebrities but she never dreamed they'd affect her, not like this! The way they zeroed in on her garter and purse, linking them to her… she shook her head. As unromantic as it was having her husband slam the car door in her face, she hoped Castle was able to throw them off by the time she arrived.

She was momentarily distracted by thoughts of her husband, remembering how closely he'd held her as they danced, his touch making her tingle. They should be alone now, finishing what they'd started on the dance floor.

Her cop's instincts sized up a knot of young women, taking them for clubbers. "Hey," she approached the tallest, "I need your help." Then she saw they were not women at all.

The heavily made up eyes widened appraisingly as they looked her up and down. "Do you? Fuck me, this is my lucky day." Her voice was bass, gravely even.

"Fuck off, Clarence. She's not a hooker," said a stockier drag queen with a magenta sequined mini dress showing a decided lack of curves. Turning to Kate, she cut off her friend. "I'm Toby. You have to tell me where you got your dress. It's delicious."

"Anything to help a sister in distress," a third schmoozed. She wore a lime green mini-dress with a startling shade of orange lipstick, and blew Kate a kiss. She blinked huge brown eyes at Kate suggestively, reminding her of Bambi.

"Oh," Kate blinked trying to focus her thoughts. "It's off the rack, Diane Von Furstenburg." She hesitated, looking the three over more thoroughly, "Actually," she confessed, "it's my wedding dress."

"No!" Clarence looked her up and down while Toby's eyes widened.

"Really?" Bambi breathed.

"Did the bastard leave you at the altar?" asked Clarence, the one wearing a Western style duster over skin tight leather pants.

"Good riddance," proclaimed Toby. "Honey, you hang out with us and I promise you'll forget all about that loser."

There was general agreement from her friends.

"No, you don't understand." Kate shook her head. "He didn't leave me at the altar; I need help getting into our hotel."

Three pairs of eyes blinked at her. "Why don't you walk in?" asked Bambi.

"Well, the press are all over—My husband is in there and…."

"Cut the crap, Cupcake," rumbled Clarence. "How do you need our help?"

"Just askin'," Toby.

Kate drew a deep breath before turning to Clarence, the tall one in the mahogany leather duster. "I need your coat."

"My browncoat? Are you kidding me?" Clarence objected. "This is an exact replica of—"

"I know! It's perfect!" Kate interrupted him, wishing she could think more clearly. "I'll give it right back! Please," she added as an after thought.

"Oh my God!" Toby pushed her fedora back, scowling.

"You've got to be kidding!" said Bambi.

"It's a scam!" Clarence growled, turning from Kate to her friends in outrage.

They turned their backs on her, still muttering among themselves. Kate cried out in protest, but the queens didn't seem to care to help her now. They moved away. Kate thrust both hands into her hair, resisting the temptation to yank. She would just go back to the hotel and hope the reporters didn't recognize the limo, or figure out who she was, or who she was with.

Or that she wore a wedding dress.

She could just imagine the photos, the questions…. Her life change, so fraught with risk, splattered all over the headlines. She shook her head, her mouth a grim line, and marched after them, their raucous laughter drowning the sound of her clicking heels.

"NYPD, nobody move!"

The trio froze, one even raising her hands as they slowly faced her.

"I don't have my badge, but my name is Detective Kate Beckett, homicide. My husband is the mystery novelist Richard Castle and I'm trying to get in our hotel without being recognized."

"Who?" Toby turned away to check the tilt of her fedora in a shop window.

Clarence, blinked and whacked Toby on the arm.

"Wha—"

"Oh my God!" Bambi's big, brown eyes took Kate's appearance in from head to toe. "You're Nikki Heat!"

Kate had never believed there would ever be a time she'd be happy to hear those words. "Yes," she smiled slightly, "I am." She took another deep breath. "I have a limo down the street, if you'd go with me to the hotel and maybe create a diversion… then, I can sneak in and find my husband."

Bambi continued to gape at her.

"Not to be vulgar but…" Clarence folded her arms over her chest. "What's in it for us?"

"In return?" Toby prompted, nodding.

"In return…" Kate thought fast, "I'd love to treat you all to dinner and drinks in the Rivermark bar, and free use of the limo for the evening."

They exchanged looks with one another as Kate shook her hands in exasperation. "It's my freaking wedding night! Will you help me or not?"

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