A/N: Huge thanks to acertainzest for giving me the wonderful idea for this little story! Happy Halloween, everybody :)
"We have to, Beckett," Castle says, holding up a tiny Zorro costume.
She shakes her head. "Veto."
"Aw, come on! Just think of how adorable he'd look in it," he tries, holding the packaging up to his face as if that'd help her get a better picture.
"We're not dressing Royal up as Zorro, Castle."
He humphs, sulks a little, but eventually puts the Halloween costume back onto its rightful hook. He'd called her earlier in the day, completely serious as he told her that they had an emergency. It's his weekend with Royal and, naturally, worst case scenarios popped into her head. Was he hurt? Did something happen to Royal? Did they get into some sort of trouble? Are they at the vet hospital?
But no, nothing of the sort.
"It's Halloween in less than 8 hours and we don't have a costume for him," he'd said after she nearly had a heart attack, keys in hand as she was about to bolt out the door to wherever their injured dog was.
She's surprised she hasn't slapped him for that yet, only poked at his chest with her index finger when she'd arrived, but with each costume he pulls out she gets closer and closer. Standing in the middle of Party City, she's probably vetoed at least 4 costumes thus far.
Royal is not going as a nun, a banana, a taco, or Zorro. She's not sure he has to go as anything at all, seeing as he is, in fact, a dog, but Castle's sheer enthusiasm and pleading looks had her caving fast, and so here she is, picking out a costume for their co-parented dog on the eve of Halloween.
"Live a little, Beckett," he sighs, rustling through the rack. "You've already vetoed all my suggestions so far. How about you look at some?"
Uncurling her arms from her chest, she sighs, takes a few steps until she's fingering through the packages of dog costumes. There's a surprising array, all kinds of costumes in varying sizes, from tiny chihuahua costumes to those for great danes and mastiffs.
"I'm looking now, aren't I?"
He grins. "Yes, thank you. And I get veto powers too."
She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue, just continues to peruse their options. Chuckling, she tugs one out from the back, her mouth turned into an amused smile as she holds the front of the package for him.
"He'd be dashing."
Castle grimaces, immediately shaking his head. "Veto. No. Beckett, put it back," he says, grabbing it from her fingers and tossing it back into the pile, making sure to hide it beneath at least three other less offensive costumes.
"Scared of clowns are we now, Castle?" she teases, tongue peeking out between pearly white teeth, eyebrows waggling.
"It's a completely rational fear!"
She laughs. "Is it, now?"
"John Wayne Gacy painted clowns, you know. A murdering pedophile paints clowns and people hang them on their walls, dress up as them for kids' parties, for Halloween. It's creepy on so many levels."
"I do know," she points out with a roll of her eyes. Of course she knows. "I didn't know, however, that you had this fear."
Castle grumbles, plucking out yet another costume. "Let's get back to this, please?" She laughs, nodding. The teasing will come later, much later when he thinks she's forgotten. "Thank you. Now, what about this?"
"Did you even look at what you're holding?"
Brows furrowing, he flips the package to find that he'd holding up a 'Sexy Big Bird' woman's costume that's somehow ended up with the dog costumes. "What? No, no no," he moans, tossing it back. "Now that is wrong. What about big bird is sexy, Beckett?"
Huffing, she hikes her shoulders to her chin. "Don't ask me."
"You mean you don't want to go as sexy big bird?"
"You caught me. That very costume is sitting in my apartment waiting for me," she deadpans.
Ignoring his grumbling, something about how he hates that it'd still look good on her, she shakes her head, turns her attention back to the task at hand. They've been standing in this aisle for over twenty minutes and have yet to find a costume that they both agree on.
"Is this what parents feel like shopping for their babies Halloween outfits?" he groans, and her breath catches in her throat. It's just an offhanded comment, he's not actually insinuating that they're shopping for their child—a child she refuses to admit she's imagined before, a small baby with his eyes and her brown curls, a rosy button nose—but it stills her heart all the same.
He doesn't seem to notice, thankfully, and she manages to recover before he glances over at her again.
"I don't know," she muses playfully. "You're the one who's done this before."
"Alexis was easy," he argues.
She barks a laugh. "Royal's a dog, Castle," she reminds, crossing her arms. "I'm pretty sure he won't care what we put him in."
"Still has to be good."
"And it will be," she agrees. "What do you say we divide and conquer? I take the left side, you take the right, and we reconvene in ten with three options each."
"But—"
"Three," she repeats. "Deal?"
He nods, an excited glint in his eyes. "Deal." Extending a hand between them, he looks pointedly from her face to his hand, and she rolls her eyes puts her open palm on top of his. "Annnnnd, break!"
She watches as he takes off down the aisle, skidding to a stop in front of the very first row of dog costumes on the right, and is unable to keep the small smile tugging at her mouth at bay. Turning on her heels, she heads down to the left side and starts her own search.
Ten minutes later, as agreed upon, they both meet back in the middle of the aisle, three costumes in their arms.
"We go one by one?" he suggests, and she nods her agreement. "Okay, you first."
She looks down at the three costumes she's chosen and pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, tries to decide which one to show first. She decides on the one in the middle and plucks it out, holds it up for him to see.
"A tiger?"
"There something wrong with a tiger?" she challenges, raising a brow.
He shakes his head. "No, of course not. Didn't think we'd jump back into that animal of choice for a while, but he'd look so menacing, I like it. Let's put it in the maybe pile."
There is no maybe pile, really, so she just tucks the costume beneath her left arm, hugs it to her side.
"Go on," she urges, nodding to his arms.
"Okay, so, naturally my first instinct would be a lion mane because, well, duh." She rolls her eyes. "But that's so overdone with golden retrievers, and Royal deserves to be unique."
"And what unique costume did you find for him?"
Holding out his first choice of costume, he pushes it towards her with a grin. "A Stegosaurus!"
The picture on the front of the package has her grinning, just imagining Royal in it. It's adorable, really. "Okay, okay, the maybe pile. Though the paws don't look like they have grips on them," she points out. "He might slip on the hardwood."
Castle sighs, inspecting it only to find out that she's right. "Yeah," he concedes. "Would've been perfect, though."
"We've still got other options, don't sound so disappointed," she reminds, and he gives a sad nod. "Now, what about this?"
They go through their final two choices each: Beckett's a doggie vampire and a bumblee bee, and Castle's a three headed dog a la Harry Potter's Fluffy and a SWAT team costume.
After mulling over their maybe's, they finally agree on one.
"We did it," she laughs. "Only took..." She glances down at her watch. "45 minutes."
Castle doesn't seem to mind though, the complete opposite in fact, and just gives her a broad smile, their chosen costume held close to his chest. He's looking at her with such joy in his eyes, such admiration for something she doesn't quite understand that it almost catches her off guard, has her blinking, trying to keep her heart from beating right out of her chest.
"It's perfect."
The following evening, she finds herself at Castle's loft a few hours before his Halloween party even begins, much to Castle's insistence.
"You have to help me put Royal in his costume, Beckett," he'd said in an attempt to reel her in. "It's only fair we do this together."
She'd, once again, ignored how dangerously this scenario resembled an actual couple getting their child ready for Halloween night and tampered the thought down. Truth be told, it didn't take much convincing to get her over here at all. She wants to be here, helping get Royal into the costume they'd decided on and bought together.
She has her own costume in her bag, refused to wear it over to the loft much to Castle's dismay. He's not even in his own costume, though, so she points that out and he grumbles.
"At least give me a hint," he whines, eyes pleading with her for some kind of clue.
She knows it's driving him insane, not knowing what she's chosen. Her costume from two years ago, the frog popping out of her trench coat, is still on her list of top three costumes she's ever done. It brings a laugh out of her every time, mostly because of his face; he was so sure she was going to be wearing something salacious (or naked, probably) under it, even covered his own bird's eyes.
Ridiculous, she thinks, a smile curling at her lips.
"Nope," she says, popping the p. "Patience is a virtue, you know."
"You should know by now that it is not a virtue I possess, Beckett."
Snorting, she rolls her eyes and wanders to the kitchen to put her bag on the island. "Don't even think about peeking in here," she instructs, a finger pointed in his direction.
"Me? Snooping?" he asks, a palm flat to his chest in mock indignation. "I'm offended by the insinuation."
"I'm sure you'll recover." Walking into the living room to where Royal's meandering around the coffee table in circles, she bends down to scratch at his ears. "Now, where's his costume?"
Castle points into the office. "On my desk if you want to go get it. We'll start putting it on him."
Nodding, she stands back up and makes her way through the doors to his study, finds the costume sitting beside his laptop on his desk. She picks it up and tucks it beneath her arm, waiting a few seconds before making her re-entrance.
She knows he's probably snooping, peeking in her bag, and she grins. She hopes he is.
After what she deems an acceptable period of time, she emerges once more, holding up the costume. "Got it."
Castle's on the couch with Royal at his knees, and the light flush climbing his neck tells her that she's right, that he's seen it. Ha. Good.
He clears his throat. "Good, good. Shall we?"
She does her best to feign ignorance as she walks up to them, opening the package on the way. "You take the bottom half, I'll take the top?" He nods, and she hands him the pieces of fabric that he'll need, keeping her own. "Come on, you, time to get all dressed up," she coos to Royal, who cocks his pretty little head at her in question.
Royal kicks at Castle when he tries to lift his legs and Beckett barely suppresses a laugh at his affronted expression.
"Gentle, Castle," she teases, leaning over to rub at his cheek where Royal's hind leg connected with his face. Her thumb brushes gently over the afflicted area.
She feels Castle's breath hitch at the kiss of their skin, and her fingers slow momentarily before she retracts her hand. "I think you'll live."
"Kiss it better?" he breathes, eyes now on her.
After a few seconds, she makes a decision and leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheekbone before pulling away. Her chest burns and she's grateful for the fabric of her shirt that hides the blush painting her skin.
"Don't touch his paws this time," she manages quietly, tossing him a smirk. "Don't want you to lose an eye."
He grins back at her. "No, we definitely don't want that."
Ten minutes later Royal's finally donned in his costume, and she stands, takes a few steps back to admire their work. It's a lot more work to dress a dog than she anticipated, but it looks good, all squirming considered.
He sits before them now, perfectly calm, in his navy blue SWAT team costume. The jacket on top says POLICE across the front in white lettering, and there's a little vest across the back that says S.W.A.T.
"Ooh, wait," Castle says, holding up a finger as he rummages in the bag. "Almost forgot."
She's about to ask what he's doing when he pulls out the hat and places it carefully on Royal's head. It's the same navy blue as the rest of the costume and says SWAT across the front in identical white lettering, with a black strap around the neck to keep it from sliding off whenever the dog moves.
"Lookin' good, Royal." Beckett nods, rubbing at the fur on his cheeks. "What a handsome boy you are. Yes, yes you are," she tells the dog, her voice getting higher as Royal licks at her face and she lets out a laugh.
Royal nearly knocks her over with his kisses, his paws on either side of her on the floor as he hovers over her chest, tongue lapping at her cheeks, her nose, her chin. She hears the click of a camera shutter and twists around as best as she can in her position, finds Castle standing off to the side with his phone in hand, a smile on his face.
"Oh, he looks positively darling," Martha appraises, staring down at their newest SWAT member.
Castle grins. "We think so too," he answers for the both of them, nudging her elbow with his. "It was either that or Zorro, but Beckett vetoed that early on."
"For good reason," she explains. "There's no way he would've sat the whole night with that mask on anyway."
"She's probably right, dad," Alexis chimes in, giving him a look of sympathy as she pats his shoulder. "Maybe next year you can dress up as Zorro."
He gives a dramatic sigh. "Maybe." Putting his arm around his daughter, he looks down at her. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for the spooky festivities?"
Alexis laughs. "As much as I'd love to, I promised Paige I'd go to this Halloween party with her."
"Will there be boys and drinking at this party?"
Beckett rolls her eyes and Alexis huffs. "Dad."
"Call me if any of them try anything, I still have that severed head from last Halloween. And Beckett has a gun."
"Castle," she laughs in time with Martha's, "Richard."
"Fine," he agrees, shaking Alexis's shoulder against his. "Go have fun, Pumpkin."
She stands on her tiptoes to kiss her father's cheek. "Thanks, dad," she says as she grabs her bag from beside the front door. "Try not to get into too much trouble tonight, okay?"
"No promises."
Alexis shakes her head as she leaves, calling a farewell behind her. Martha leaves soon after, tells them not to wait up, but not before corralling the two of them into the living room, with Royal, for a photo op. The two of them in the back, Royal sitting patiently in front of the two of them.
"And then there were two," Castle says, a hand on his hip as he looks around the loft—still in need of the final touches of decorations. Royal barks, sitting on his hind legs as he stares up at him. "Three, I'm sorry."
"Okay, Castle, what else needs to be done?" she asks.
She's surprised there's even anything left to do. There are spider webs and cobwebs covering the hard surfaces, in all of the corners, a skeleton dangling in the corner of the living room. Pumpkins are placed appropriately around the loft, sitting on beds of discolored leaves. The entrance to his office has been covered in caution tape, some fake blood coagulating on the floor and on the door frame.
He's already gone all out, every inch of the loft turned into a haunting Halloween nightmare come to life, and she can't think of what it could possibly be missing.
"We have to set the candles out," he tells her, rummaging in one of the bags in the kitchen, "all of the food has to be put on display, and we both need to change into our costumes."
"Let's work on one and two, okay? We can change after everything's set up." She watches his Adam's apple bob at the thought of her in the costume she knows he's peeked at, and she holds in her grin. "You put the candles wherever you want them, and I'll grab the food. Everything in the fridge?"
He nods. "And the non-refrigerated items are either on the counter already or in the bottom cabinet."
She opens the fridge to reveal a full array of options. He really has done it all. There are deviled eggs with tiny, black plastic spiders settled on top, more colored leaves serving as a base. Pigs in a blanket made to look like tiny, finger sized mummies. A tray of half-bananas, surprised ghost faces on them and peeled oranges with small pieces of celery stuck in the top to look like pumpkins. And, of course, dirt cake with gummy worms. On the countertop, already set out, is a tray of black nachos on either side of a small pumpkin, carved with an open mouth and guacamole dip flowing out in the middle as if the pumpkin is throwing it up.
It's all so very Castle.
Setting all of the food on their appropriate tables, she grabs the punch from the bottom shelf as well, settles it in the center of the island.
"Is this alcoholic?" she calls over to him as he fixes the placement of the last candle.
He chuckles. "Of course. There's non-alcoholic punch behind it, too. We'll label them."
Of course he's made two punches.
Punch labeled and set out, food done, candles fixed to perfection, and it seems that everything's now finished and ready for when guests begin arriving.
"Costume time," Castle declares with a clap of his hands. "We have approximately 45 minutes before people start showing up."
"We better get going then, huh."
She makes a show of grabbing her bag and heading up the stairs to the guest room to get ready, while he slinks off into his bedroom. This is going to be good. He thinks he knows what she's going to saunter out as, but he doesn't know about the second bag she'd hid in the guest room beforehand, the bag that holds her actual costume.
The one he peeked on was merely a decoy, something to make him sweat a little.
As if she'd really choose to dress up as 'Sexy Cop', booty shorts as the bottoms and a crop top with a pathetic excuse for a badge emblem sewn to the left breast. Come on, Castle.
She pulls her real costume from the bag and holds it up to the light, inspects it one last time before shedding her clothes and stepping into the black pants, frayed and chopped at the bottom. She slips the shredded white t-shirt over her head next, lets it fall over her body, baggy and ripped along the ribs, the chest, chunks of her skin showing through the holes in the material. Her dull red bra shows through the rips, matches the splotches of fake blood painting the white shirt.
Rummaging in the bag once more, she finds the "blood" and spreads some on the exposed skin of her torso, along her chest. Her makeup is next, dark circles accentuated beneath her eyes with hints of reds and blacks, a shade-too-light foundation slathered on to give her a paler complexion. She adds some blue tones to her face for good measure, contours her cheeks to make them look more gaunt.
She adds a finishing touch by tousling her hair, flipping her head back and forth to give it a slightly wild effect.
Studying the final product in the mirror, she steps back, a pleased grin taking over. It's not the costume Castle thought he'd be seeing, but with the amount of skin exposed through the slashes of the shirt, she thinks he'll enjoy this one too.
She makes sure to wait until it's practically time for guests to arrive before making her exit. Once she's sure at least a few people have showed up, hears a mixture of a couple of voices downstairs, she deems it acceptable to make her entrance.
Castle's easy to spot in his vampire costume, the collar of the cape high at the back of his neck. He's standing by the food table, filling two cups with the alcoholic punch.
Keeping her steps quiet, she sneaks up behind him, brings her mouth just shy of his neck. "Boo," she whispers, revels in his startled jump as he turns around.
"Beckett!"
She snorts. "Nice costume," she praises, taking in his pale complexion, the fangs attached to his teeth and fake blood around his mouth. "Looks like we're both of the undead variety this year."
"You're—you're a zombie," he says lamely, eyes glued to the exposed red of her bra.
"Astute observation," she nods, bottom lip tugged between her teeth to reign in a smirk. "Why, were you expecting something else?"
He shakes his head a little too quickly. "What? No, no of course not, this is—it's great. Looks good on you, Beckett."
She rolls her eyes, huffs a laugh. "I know you peeked, Castle," she tells him, watches his eyes widen, caught. "As if I'd really leave my costume there and expect you not to."
"That was... it was a decoy costume." Her answering grin is all the confirmation he needs. "That was mean. You are a cruel, cruel woman, Katherine Beckett."
Her smirk doesn't fade, only grows as she eyes the second cup in his hand. "That for me?"
"It was, but now I don't know if I should—" She swipes it from his grip before he can finish his sentence, threaten to deny her the drink. "—give it to you. Your reflexes are insane, you know that?"
She shrugs one shoulder, bringing the cup to her lips. The vodka is a welcomed burn as it glides down her throat. "So I've been told. Now, go mingle," she says, nodding towards the rest of the guests. A good handful of people have arrived now, and he needs to go do the host thing.
"But—"
"Go. I'll be around here somewhere," she assures him. "Go."
Castle leaves, reluctantly, but pastes his charming smile on for the rest of his party guests nonetheless, and Beckett takes her drink and walks the rooms. She's stopped a few times, by Paula, surprisingly, and then a few other people who she engages in simple conversations with. It's not her forte, not where she's comfortable—this still isn't her crowd—but she's polite regardless.
The boys show up about an hour in, Ryan with Jenny, Lanie not too far after, and Castle greets them with pats on the backs, a hug for her best friend. Lanie makes a beeline for her the second she's spotted, and Beckett almost laughs at her friend's 'Sexy Nurse' costume.
"Nice," she comments playfully, making a sweeping gesture.
"I could say the same for you, girl. I bet Castle's loving all this," she teases, fingers snapping the strap to her bra.
Beckett hisses, shimmying out of her friend's reach. "Lanie."
"It's Halloween, Kate, live a little. Find a piece of spiderweb to stand under and kiss the man already."
She rolls her eyes. "That's Christmas, first of all, and yeah—spider webs, so romantic."
Lanie groans at her, nudges her shoulder with one last attempt and then wanders off to find Esposito. The boys stop over and say hi, too, and she spends some time talking with Jenny before Ryan whisks her away to play one of the games Castle's apparently set up in the living room.
A wet nose bumping against her calves has her looking down, finding Royal at her toes, tail smacking against her legs once he realizes she's noticed him.
"Hey, buddy," she says, bending down against the island to pet him. "Having fun with all these people? Huh?" Royal makes a low noise in his throat. "Me either," she whispers the secret to the dog.
She loves Castle's parties, she really does—the effort he puts into each one, his excitement, the insane decor—but sometimes too much time out here with this crowd of people is overwhelming.
"Why don't we go find somewhere more quiet, yeah?"
Royal nudges her kneecaps and she takes that as an agreement, so she stands, makes her way through the party and ducks into Castle's office with the dog at her heels. Settling onto the couch, she curls her legs beneath her and pats the spot beside her until Royal jumps up, circles in place and plops down. His head rests in her lap, big eyes staring up at her, his tongue out as she pets him.
She lets her head lull against the back cushion, wriggling her body into a more comfortable position in the corner.
It's past 10pm when she looks down at her watch, and she figures she should get back out to the party soon, go check on Castle to make sure he hasn't been eaten alive. Royal lets out a heavy sigh against her thighs, his eyes closed and his breathing even, and so she settles back. 15 more minutes and then she'll head out.
Until then, it won't hurt if she rests her eyes.
"Hey," she hears, the voice soft, accompanied by a gentle shake of her shoulder. "Beckett."
Her eyes peel open, blinking away the fog until everything comes into focus and she sees Castle hovering above her.
"There you are," he chuckles lightly. "Couldn't find you for a while, I was beginning to think you'd left."
"Mmm, no." She stretches her arms above her head, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping dog on her lap. "What time is it?"
Castle hums. "Just after midnight," he says, and she groans.
"I meant to go back out to the party at 10:30, but Royal was asleep and I didn't want to disturb him. Must've fallen asleep."
He takes a seat besides her, brushes his fingers behind Royal's ears. "You haven't missed much."
"Still going on?"
"Not for much longer. 20 minutes tops."
"A Richard Castle party ending before 2am? Blasphemy!"
He chuckles. "The night is young, Beckett. There are many other parties these guests must run off to next," he says. "This is but a stop on a list of what's probably 4 parties for most of these folks."
"Oh the lives of the rich and famous," she jokes.
"If you're not too tired, what do you say to a horror and/or Halloween movie to ring in the holiday?"
She raises a brow. "Shouldn't you be getting back out to your guests? Can't just leave 'em, Castle."
He waves an arm around. "They won't even know I'm gone," he says, seconds before a high pitched 'Ricky!' sounds from the other room. "Or not." She laughs. "I'll be back once everyone's gone?"
It's a question, she knows, one of if she's going to stay for a movie or not. She should go home, call it a night before she does something stupid like try to jump ahead, dive into something before she's truly ready. But his eyes are boring into hers, no expectations, only hope, and she offers a soft smile in return.
She nods. "Okay."
The beaming smile she gets, the one that brings crinkles to the corners of his eyes is enough to alleviate some of the pressure in her chest, to tell her this is what she should be doing, what she wants to be doing.
He disappears through the doors of the study and returns half an hour later, the voices from the other room having died out now, silence replacing them. The couch shakes when he drops the armful of DVDs he'd been crowding against his chest.
"I brought options."
A laugh bubbles out as she looks over the mountain of movies now sitting on the other couch cushion. Gently shoving at Royal, she manages to squeeze out from under him. She wakes him in the process and feels slightly bad, but her leg's asleep now, pins and needles running through her skin.
"There are at least 30 movies here."
"32, if I counted correctly."
"Castle," she huffs.
He only shrugs. "It's best to have a varied pool of choices. Go ahead and choose a movie while I take out these fangs."
She just shakes her head as he mumbles something about the tips of the fangs digging into his bottom lip and moves to crouch in front of the DVDs. He's got quite the collection, she'll admit, and she plucks out a few that catch her eye.
Carrie, Hocus Pocus, Practical Magic, and Halloween make it into her final choices, and she lays them out for Castle to make the final choice.
"Hocus Pocus is a classic," he says upon his return, catching the DVD between his fingers. "I think we have to."
She laughs. "Not what I expected, but I appreciate the choice."
"If you wanted to watch something else we can—"
"No," she cuts him off. "It's perfect."
Beckett makes it three quarters of the way through the movie before she falls asleep, her body pressed against his, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. Royal's curled in a ball in front of the couch, snuggled into the plush carpet.
Tiny wisps of fallen hair puff up with each breath she takes and he reaches over, gently brushes the strands behind her ear. She's beautiful even when she's sleeping, he realizes yet again, though he's not surprised. Sharp cheekbones, highlighted by the zombie makeup she's done, the tiny mole beneath her left eye that he wants so desperately to press a kiss to.
He'll wake her up soon, tell her to take the guest room (so he can make her breakfast in the morning, though he'll leave that detail out) for the night, but for now he tugs the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covers her, pulls it up to her shoulders to keep her warm.
The movie credits roll on the screen, but his attention is focused on the rise and fall of his partner's chest, the visible proof that she's here right now with him.
A small smile curls at the corners of his mouth. He's so very lucky.
He doesn't kiss the spot beneath her eye he so longs to, but he does dust his lips to her temple, his breath catching when she lets out a content whimper in her sleep, curling herself even closer to him, her head nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
"Happy Halloween, Kate," he whispers to the crown of her head.