21. Pizza. 2am. Naked.
It's her last night in the Castle house and Beckett's afraid to admit she doesn't want to leave.
She checks the clock on the bedside table for the time. 2:00 in the morning.
Beckett huffs against her pillow, pulls the crisp sheets up to her chin to huddle deeper in the bed. She closes her eyes tight against the moonlight streaming in through the window, and pulls her knees up to her chest. She tries to relax her breathing, focus on the in and out steady rhythm that usually helps soothe her, but no matter how hard she tries, sleep evades her.
There's a slight nip in the air when she lifts her head out from the warmth of the blankets, her eyes immediately finding the clock on the bedside table once more.
2:01 am
She groans, rolls over in the bed to stare out the window.
The moonlight streaming in helps her thoughts drift to other places besides sleep. Finding a new apartment, what the hell her dad is going to say when he finds out the explosion in the city was her building...Castle.
Castle.
She wonders if he's awake. If thoughts of dead bodies and bombs and bullets are keeping him up, too.
The blankets are being thrown off her body before she can talk herself out of leaving.
There's a chill in the floorboards as she tiptoes out of her room and past Alexis's. She notices a faint light coming from the kitchen when she reaches the top of the stairs. As she works her way down, she realizes it's the light from the refrigerator.
She treads lightly as she floats her way down the remaining stairs and into the kitchen. The music of moans becomes more prominent the closer she gets to the open refrigerator door, the cool air wafting out and up her bare calves, creating goosebumps on her skin.
"Castle?"
"AHH!"
Her voice startles him so badly he drops the open tub of ice cream on the floor, the spoon chiming as it hits the ground.
Castle turns to face her, his robe open, exposing his naked flesh. All the flesh.
"Castle!"
Kate slaps her eyes with her palms, jaw open in shock.
She just saw Richard Castle naked. In the flesh. Lots of flesh.
"Why the hell is your robe open?"
"I'm sorry. The knot must've came loose!"
Kate shakes her head in disbelief, the shock rolling over her in waves. A year of secretly fantasizing and there he is.
The rumors are true.
A beat passes before he's saying she's okay to open her eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Beckett." he huffs, his expression exuding embarrassment.
"Let's forget it happened." Even though the image is burned into your brain.
He nods, the pink in his cheeks bleeding to a darker crimson. It's cute.
Castle gets some napkins and wipes the spilled ice cream from the floor, tosses the spoon in the sink.
"What has you downstairs?" he asks when she sits at the table, sighing as she rests her head in one palm.
She shrugs, fiddles with the placemat. "Couldn't sleep."
"Thinking about Dunn?" he asks closing the fridge and flicking on a dim light.
"Nothing specific," she lies. He sits down opposite her at the table, leans forward to show she's got his full attention. She can see the top part of his chest through the slightly open part of his robe. "Just can't seem to settle."
"Me either."
Their gazes hold for a moment, Kate's hand drifting slowly towards his side of the table. "What do you normally do when you can't sleep? Besides get naked."
"I was actually writing," he laughs. "But then I realized I was hungry."
"So ice cream was your best bet?"
"No judgments," he says, shaking his head. "Sugar helps my creative juices."
Kate smirks, a blush tinting her cheeks. "Really? Why, were you blocked or something?"
"A little. Facing death kinda puts a damper on fictionally killing people."
"You didn't almost die."
"But you did."
The air goes still.
The implication of his words is loud and clear.
Kate swallows the knot in her throat.
"You saying you can't write without me?" she teases, trying to keep the mood light.
"That's exactly what I'm saying. You are my inspiration."
He's pushing, forcing her to acknowledge this thing between them. Kate sucks her lip between her teeth, allows a few silent beats to pass before speaking again. "There's a difference between motivation and inspiration."
"And if you had died in that explosion today, I would've lost both."
"Castle."
"Kate."
Her eyes gravitate back to Castle's. The earnestness in his is what helps her keep talking, helps her trek down this path. The feelings she's repressed for him are flooding to the surface, ready to burst from her chest. The air is thick and it's getting hard to breathe. But Kate suppresses all doubts clouding her mind and asks herself the most important question before replying.
Do you want this?
"So, can I help?"
"Help?"
"Help you write. You said you were blocked. If I do inspire you the way you say, then won't being with you while you write really help the flow of words?"
He gives her his most dazzling smile. The crinkles in his eyes, the joy glowing from his face tell her everything she needs to know. It causes her stomach to flutter.
"Yeah. That sounds like it could be fun."
"We should probably get some real sustenance. It looks like an all-nighter."
He's smirking as she rises from the table and travels to the refrigerator. She pulls out the leftover pizza and two plates from the cabinet.
"You're not going to heat it up?"
"I like cold pizza."
"Then I guess I'll make the coffee." He stands from the table, joins her by the fridge, the pizza box clutched tightly in both her hands against her stomach.
His body heat is emanating, settling into her skin, as he reaches past her for the coffee grounds. Swallowing, she grips the box even tighter, suddenly nervous from his proximity. He is naked under that robe.
He comes in close, enough for his breath to ghost across her cheeks.
"You go ahead in the office," he says, the low timbre of his voice causing the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she suppresses a shiver, holds her breath. "Wait for me. I'll be there in a minute."
She nods, doesn't trust her voice not to squeak.
Kate walks away in the direction of the office, but Castle calls out to her, drawing her attention.
"Kate?" She turns. "I'm looking forward to what we can do together."
She smiles.
Do you want this?
"Me too."
