Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining or relating to the TV show Castle. All rights belong to Andrew Marlowe and ABC.
Dedication: to AC, my stalker extraordinaire, my friend and dragon stealer; to all those who asked or bribed me with tea; and to CB, who informed me that em dashes have feelings too.
In the After
Rain thrummed against the windows, flesh pressed against flesh, legs tangled and shadows loomed. Sleep had claimed them, or at least one of them, after mutual fulfillment rivaled the storm raging over New York City. Had he watched her sleep the entire time? It didn't matter. His faint touch woke her.
His touch. His hands. His body.
Castle.
While she allowed him to explore, her mind adjusted to her heart and to him. So this was what it was like to be with him. She understood why it was so popular. Sure, they had both perfected their moves over the years, but with each other, the intricacies of their bodies were fresh words to a page—an inevitable hook for more.
With a heavy arm, she reached over and ran her hand across his bare chest. Her muscles warmed with memory, keeping the sting of a rooftop battle at bay a little while longer. Castle wrapped his arm around her and pulled her body closer. From the moment she had met him: the strong arms, the welcoming crook of his neck, his comforting embrace; she knew he would be good at this too. Cuddling. His fingers followed an unknown maze up and down her arm until Kate thought he made a wrong turn: a playful pinch.
She hoped that wasn't a form of foreplay. She pulled away from his body until she was on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. He stuffed a few pillows behind his head so his dream-hazed eyes were directed solely at her.
"Kate." Her name chased their morning-after nerves beyond the sheets, room, and brick. For now, it was just them.
His lopsided smile gave way to another pinch.
"Castle..." she warned.
He focused, leaving the nooks of his mind alone. "Evidence."
Kate moved until she was able to rest her arm and head on his chest. She looked up at him. "For?"
"And Notes." Her eyes narrowed. "No, not that. Although, that thing you do with your-" She raised an eyebrow. "My own personal notes," he corrected.
"Trying to decipher me?"
The joy in his eyes accompanied an uninhibited morning after smile. "You're a cuddler."
"Reverse that."
A brief moment of mock thoughtfulness gave way to a compromise. "We both are."
He had her there.
She pushed herself up a bit farther until her breasts pressed against his chest.
"You give direction. Liberally," he said.
He took it too. Willingly. Along with his own moves.
"What else?" she asked.
Delighted by the challenge, his hand skimmed her side along her ribs. She bit her lip as he passed over the ticklish spot—her other scar. She reached down and tried to move his hand lower.
"Feet and your left side. I'm enthralled. Entranced. Captivated..."
"Easy with the pre-coffee perspicacity."
"Cuddles, bossy, ticklish and an extensive vocabulary," he said as a pondering statement more for him than for her. If he uttered 'perfection' she'd slap him.
"You already knew two of those."
"Yes, but it extends to every facet of my life. Hot." A look of earned satisfaction traveled across his features. "You know what else? You have..." His eyes drifted to her breasts.
She waited a few moments, "I, what?" A few more beats passed and she could almost see the blinking cursor in his eyes. "Typical." She rolled off him, pulling up the sheet as her lips pulled into a smile.
"Biological." He propped up on his elbow, eyes flashing a short tale of impish charm. "I think you should let me interrogate them again."
"Are you implying my breasts are hostile?"
"I won't know until I ask them."
A scold was at the back of her mind. It stayed there. He had already 'interrogated' other parts of her body and she his, so Kate raised the bed sheet for a peek. He gazed and touched. Sensations skittered into burgeoning hardness.
"I think they are about to lawyer up. Permission to question the witnesses in private?"
"De-" Who was she kidding? "Granted."
A joyous whoop from him was followed by a swoop of the sheet away from her. It puffed and fell over his body as if he was making a fort.
She placed her hand under the sheet and on his head. She played with his hair until he continued.
"Four long years. Well, for one of you."
She flipped the sheet away from head and the longing look of wait switched to his sexy and smug grin.
"What do you mean 'for one'?"
Castle gestured his shoulders in feigned innocence. "Remember when your apartment exploded?"
Her mouth fell open. "You said you wouldn't look."
"My coat just slipped a bit as I was helping you out of the apartment and down the stairs. It was just the top. And the nipple. I didn't really see anything 'cause of the soot."
"Unbelievable." He was that and so much more. She gestured to her chest, "Worth the wait?"
Castle flicked the sheet away until the chill in the room chased their rising excitement along their skin. He looked over her entire body, toes to the top of her head. A few heart beats later his eyes landed on hers. He leaned over her, traced the back of his hand down the side of her cheek, her neck, then down to the top of her arm.
She had her answer.
It was followed by a tweak of her skin.
"God, Castle-"
"Not the first time tonight you've confused the two of us." He wiggled his eyebrows.
"Cuddling? Yes. That thing you do with your tongue and fingers? Oh yes. Pinching? No."
"It's just...I have the evidence and yet there is a small part of me that doesn't..." He moved until they were on their sides looking at each other. "Fantasies, friendship and foreplay and this. Us."
They both felt a shift between them and yet some things stayed the same. Flirting to fulfillment. Lust to love. Partners. Friends. Muse? His fantasies were merging with reality. For a man like him that probably wasn't easy.
"Shouldn't you pinch yourself?" she asked.
"If this is a dream, I have no intention of waking up. Unlike the others."
"How many others, exactly?"
"A whole list."
"You have a list?" she asked.
"Don't you?"
"I don't write them down."
He tapped his index finger against his temple. "Neither do I."
She looked at him incredulously. "Do I have to list the page numbers in the Nikki Heat series where your fantasies come into play?"
"You know them off by heart?" His face grew smugger by the minute.
Her brows knitted together. "That's not the point. The point is, fantasies are often overrated."
"True." He paused and threaded his fingers through her hair then cupped her cheek before adding, "Sometimes it's what keeps us going when reality is off playing with regret."
Kate leaned into his palm. The idea of regret was elsewhere. Not here with them. Not between the sheets, or in the room, or in his apartment. It hid behind the bruises on her neck; it dangled from a roof and a necklace; it festered between Maddox and her badge; it marred her skin; it swung in the rain. Regrets would harken her back to the outside world. Maybe a little fantasy mixed with reality would keep them in the present for a while longer, so Kate pinched him on the arm.
His face scrunched up and he let out a squeak.
"I'm here. Four years worth." She leaned up and kissed him slowly, deeply. "But..." He bit his bottom lip in anticipation. "That doesn't mean that our fantasies can't exist either," she said.
"Really?"
She nodded.
He sucked in a breath of excitement and his eyes danced with his imagination. "We could-no-there's this one where you and I-no! How about-"
She kissed him again to quiet him. "All those can wait until next time."
"Time?" he asked. Not to her, but to the unseen figure that had been a player in their relationship since the beginning. Was time on their side?
She leaned in and nipped at his earlobe. "I'm thinking of the one that combines two of your favorite things."
Castle stilled. "Don't toy with me."
"Toys come later."
He muttered 'whipping cream' against her skin and then scurried to the door "Be right back. Stay naked!"
Her laugh followed his taut ass out of the room.
"There is something wrong with this picture?"
It was late morning, and a robe and boxer clad Castle sat on the edge of the bed, watching her get dressed. She pulled her shirt over her showered form and briefly touched her phone in her pocket. He had protested as she dressed, taking his time to kiss almost every body part she covered and saying, 'until next time.' She needed a diversion or else she would never get dressed.
"Which one?"
He followed her hand to the two large paintings on his walls. The robust colors and modern look of his room reflected him nicely, but she needed a bit more fun.
"Interesting metrosexual-hunter theme," Kate said.
"That's not what I was..." He looked at his pictures, "I like having an elephant in my room. That way if it turns pink I know I'm only half drunk. If it starts running around the room then I know I'm very drunk."
"Great system. And the lion?"
He straighten his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "King of Jungle."
Kate held back a chuckle at his defensiveness. "I see. Two large animals. Both powerful. Kings in their own right. Placed in the bedroom, next to the bed."
His lips made a firm line before answering. "I'm not overcompensating."
She slinked closer to him until a minuscule amount of space and jittering nerves were left between them. "Let me check."
"Go ahead. You've already more than seen it. I'd walk around naked all the time if it was socially acceptable."
"I'm surprised you're clothed now."
"So am I."
Kate pulled out the top of his boxers anyway. Flashes of what they did and would do roared across her mind. She cleared her throat before looking at him again. "Hmmm..."
Arms enveloped and lifted her. He twisted and a second later she was lying supine on the bed, looking into his eyes. He placed a simple yet effective kiss on her lips.
Kate focused—a labored effort because her wits were living in her toes at the moment. It took all her energy to give a bit of a shrug and then gestured to the candles on the night stand.
"Candles?" She slipped her leg up and down his, trailing the arch of her foot along his calf.
"Those are for...in case the power goes out. That's just being responsible."
"Not for setting the mood for your conquests?" That question ran ahead of her wits and slipped out.
There was a white lie skipping across his eyes. It dissipated into truth. "Yes, OK. You don't need to dissect my color pallet next."
She gave out a short burst of laughter. Castle smiled instantly with candid eyes. Her lips faltered back to even when his eyes performed a rewrite from the thinness and grandeur of lust to the complexity and subtly of love. That said it all, and separated her from others who had been in this bed.
Kate tucked that information away for when she was back in her own apartment and not so close to him. "Then I guess carving another notch on your bedpost, while you were in the bathroom was a bit premature."
"Feisty in the morning. Noted," he said.
"You've been making a lot of those."
"Research. I have to do extensive, slow, sometimes fast, methodical and spontaneous, research. In a variety of locations and positions. Have to get my Beckett facts straight." His hand drifted down to her side, performing feathery light touches that made her squirm.
"Castle..." She half giggled a 'stop' before biting her lip to halt her laughter.
"Stop the sexy giggle and I will."
She switched tactics and ran her fingers through his hair, something she had to stop herself from doing for four years and she couldn't get enough of it.
His expression shifted. "Alexis won't be here for a couple hours." It was neither a suggestion for her to leave or to stay.
It was a statement of fact that she would have to apply definition to. A night's definition? Years of definition? Then their was her own definition that she couldn't quite clarify yet.
"Breakfast?" he asked.
"Breakfast sounds-" Her phone started to vibrate in her front pocket.
He sighed. "Do you think, 'I'm trapped under a sexy writer' is a good excuse to miss work?" Castle went to pull it out, but she stopped him with her hand on top of his. It stayed their until the buzzing stopped.
Concern ebbed in his eyes. "Kate?"
"It can wait." Her voice didn't hold the command she had wanted.
He studied her for a moment before the back of his hand drew up to her neck where a purple mixed with the cream of her skin. "Are you sure?"
Kate felt that sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach, as reality dripped like honey, crystallizing in her gut. She was powerless against Maddox. Each move, each hit seemed humorous to him instead of painful as he had readied her for slaughter.
He was still out there. Hunting.
Instinctively, her hand slipped from her pocket to her badge-less, gunless hip. A weight had been lifted, but a weightless life? Last night she was sure of two things: Castle and that she didn't want her life to be a foot note to her obsession anymore.
Now, both those things rang true, plus a third: justice. Did it emerge in the aftermath of her mother's murder or in the after glow of a life with parents who taught her what was right and just? Then there were the victims and their families. She had given them a voice and closure. That wasn't just stepping stones towards her obsession, was it?
Too many unanswered questions. Too little time had passed.
"I'm...sure." Her voice wavered.
Castle stood and extended his hands out, lifting her to her feet. He ran his thumbs over the pads of her tattered fingers.
"Last night, you almost..."
"Almost. But I'm here." She brought her hand up to his cheek. "Right here and I want, I need..."
He was there, waiting. Asking her to share the weight that she carried, her dreams, her fantasies, her realities. He had been willing for years and now she had her chance.
She dove.
"A new after," she said. His brow stitched in confusion as she drew her hand down and over his heart. "I've been living in the after of my mother's murder for years and I need a new one."
"You mean...happily ever after?"
She shrugged. "I will take one that includes a real version of 'happily' along with everything else."
His eyes reflected her own in trepidation and determination. "I think I can help you with that." Castle leaned down and kissed the tear that ran down her face like a wayward sentence, ending its run, and eased the sliver of fear that she would have to do this alone.
Her arms found their place around him as his mouth found hers. The kiss started delicate enough, then plunged her combat stung body into boneless elation.
Just as she thought she'd melt away, he removed his lips and whispered, "So this is what the other side of the wall looks like."
"I guess it is."
He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "There is only one more thing to do."
Her hands playfully pulled at the front of his robe.
Castle chuckled as he took a step back. "I know you want more of this..." He opened his robe and posed, "And this..." He wiggled his butt, "I also know that you need to be in a constant caffeinated state. So I'm going to get dressed, and if you can keep your hands off me long enough, you can help me make breakfast."
It sounded wonderful and would give her a few more moments before she had to think about what to do next. "I'm not cooking you pancakes, Castle."
His expression fell into a pout. "Why not?"
She stepped back into his personal space. "What are pancakes without..." She leaned up, lips hovering over his, "whipping cream?"
His eyes glazed over and listed just to the side for the first time in a memory and not in fantasy.
"You think on that." She gave his butt a slap before heading towards the kitchen, "While I go make our coffee."
"That won't always work," he yelled after her.
"We'll see."
END
Thank you for reading.
Cheers,
Rini :D