"Finally"
By December21st
Fandom: Castle
Rating: PG
Pairing: Castle/Beckett, Kate/Josh
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 3 through "The Final Nail", see also A/N.
Summary: It must be spring. Beckett's life always seems to take a turn in spring.
A/N: In the wake of the recent stellar episodes, I started wondering what the season finale will be like. This is one of the possibilities I came up with for its closing scenes. This story does not contain spoilers for unaired episodes; please do not share any in the reviews. In the grand tradition of season finales, it is a cliffhanger. I do not intend to continue this story; in four months, it will doubtless be Jossed anyhow.
Castle wakes up to the sight of Beckett, half-dressed and looking adorably disheveled, holding a black shoe with a three-inch heel, on her hands and knees looking under the furniture of his bedroom.
"Going somewhere?" he inquires, sitting up and allowing the sheet to pool around his waist. Beckett looks momentarily guilty, puts the shoe down, and finishes buttoning her blouse.
"I have to go home," she tells him.
"No breakfast?" It's an honest invitation, with no teasing, no subtext. Well, maybe a little.
"I have to tell Josh." Beckett finishes dressing, and comes over to sit on the edge of the bed. She looks troubled. "He's always been good to me, and I cheated on him, Castle. He doesn't deserve that."
"What are you going to tell him?" They don't touch, but they're inches apart.
"I don't know!" Beckett runs a hand through her tousled locks.
"Beckett." She smiles at the use of her last name but doesn't say anything. "I have no regrets about last night, but if you need to tell him that it was a one-time thing, and that it will never happen again, I'll support your decision. Whatever makes you happy." Castle pulls Beckett's other shoe out from under the sheets and hands it to her.
She rests her hand briefly on his. "Thank you, Castle."
Beckett leaves without a backward glance. She doesn't see the look of despair in Castle's eyes, and he doesn't see the tears in hers.
...
At her apartment, Beckett wrestles the key into the lock. Inside, a leather coat is draped over the back of a chair.
"Josh?" She calls out, moving further into the apartment.
The echo of her footsteps subsides when she stops at the sight of the table. A single rose overlooks a place setting for two, with fine china, glinting silverware, and a linen tablecloth. The wine has already been decanted into two elegant glasses, the bottle sitting on the kitchen counter next to washed and drying cookware.
One of the plates has a something on it covered by a folded-over piece of paper. Beckett picks up the paper first, the handwritten message saying merely
"We waited as long as we could."
Beckett furrows her brow in puzzlement. Under the paper is a small box, the kind jewelry stores use for small pieces. She jerks her hand back to her mouth, her eyes going wide. Then, very tentatively, she reaches forward, picks up the box, and opens it.
It's an engagement ring.
"Josh? Are you still here?" Beckett calls out again. The distant sounds of the city waking up are the only reply she gets.
She finds Josh in the bedroom, where he's lying on top of the covers, fully dressed. He's sleeping with his hands folded peacefully at his chest. Beckett's reminded uncomfortably of the way the Triple Killer left his victims, and that's when she realizes that Josh isn't sleeping.
