Returning the Favor
Caskett Season 4 one-shot. AU Post 4x11 (Til Death Do Us Part)
It started the night of Kevin and Jenny's wedding.
The ceremony was lovely, and neither of them was ashamed to admit they'd shed a few tears during the vow exchange. By the time the reception began, they were both ready to party, but as the festivities continued their excitement began to dissipate. Kate had a drink spilled on her by one of Ryan's tipsy cousins. Castle's meal ended up being stone-cold and thus unappetizing. They danced together, and that was enjoyable, but after nearly being plowed into by aggressively partying attendees, Castle had linked his fingers together with hers, drawn her in close, and spoke softly into her ear. "Wanna get out of here?" She nodded without hesitation.
After saying their goodbyes and being waved off by Esposito, who seemed to be quite friendly with one of Jenny's friends from work, they scurried off into the night. Castle let her set the destination and her reply was, "I don't care where we go, as long as it has really good dessert." He grinned and led the way to one of his and Alexis's favorite bakeries: a little hole in the wall Italian place with cannolis to die for.
They chatted and laughed until we wee hours, neither of them really caring how late it was getting. Simply put: they were enjoying their time together. It was easy, natural. And, at the end of the evening, when they parted with cheek kisses and wishes of a good night's rest, neither could wait to spend another evening enjoying each other's company.
Though Castle could hardly believe it, he was sure the tides were turning; that she was finally emerging from behind her walls; that she was beginning to feel ready for a real relationship with him.
He thought the night of the wedding might change things but was too afraid to hope until the next week when she asked if he wanted to go see a movie with her on Friday night. He'd agreed instantly and felt even luckier when she accepted his invitation to grab a bite to eat after the six-p.m. showing. He didn't want to push her too much. He knew that with Kate Beckett, the race would only be won with a slow, steady pace, but, god, it was hard to hold back. It was hard not to grab by the waist and pull her body in to his. It was hard not to linger just a little bit too long during their hugs. And it was downright agonizing to redirect his lips to her cheek when all he wanted was to press them against her mouth.
They would get there, he told himself continually. She was worth the wait.
After patiently waiting through public dinners and drinks, Castle finally caught a break three weeks after the wedding. They were knee deep in a case, working on filling out the infamous "murder board" with what they knew, when the killer strolled into the precinct and tearfully confessed to his crimes. Apparently, the guilt was too much for him.
As Kate settled into her desk for an afternoon of processing paperwork, Castle knew that was his cue to exit, and casually (okay, somewhat purposefully) mentioned that his evening plans involved trying out a new recipe he'd found. "You wouldn't want to come try it out, would you Detective?" he'd added at the end.
She'd given him a playful smile. "Trying to give me food poisoning, Castle?"
He feigned shock and offence and they'd shared a laugh. Ultimately, she agreed to join him for the evening as soon as her paperwork was completed. After he left the twelfth, Castle had practically skipped through the grocery store from pure excitement. Kate Beckett was coming to his place for dinner! True, that had happened several times in the past, but that time meant more—he knew it!
The first night they tried a new recipe together had turned into a bit of a disaster. Thankfully, food poisoning was not on the menu, but after staring a small fire on his stove, Castle decided to give up and order takeout—for their own safety. Ever resilient and determined, he told Kate that he still wanted to try new recipes, but he would definitely stay away from any that involved frying in oils prone to splattering. This comment led Kate to telling him she wanted to expand her culinary horizons as well, and thus an unofficial Friday tradition was born: New recipe friend dates.
Since their subsequent two attempts together had gone marvelously, Castle wished that New Recipe Friday came more than once a week. Patience he reminded himself, especially on that night—night three during which they made their own pasta noodles. They were tasty, but not significantly better than those purchased premade—especially not when compared to how much of a pain they were to make!
As he wiped up the flour spilled across the counter, he glanced over to see Kate finishing up the dishes at the sink, attempting to shield a yawn with the back of her hand. Seeing as she had yawned more that evening than the prior two weeks combined, he called her out on it (teasingly), and she initially brushed him off before confession she hadn't been sleeping well recently but wasn't sure what the cause was. He suggested she sit on the couch and wait for him to finish wiping down the counters and she did so. Ten minutes later he found her slumped over against a pillow asleep.
Though he tried to be quiet, Castle ended up waking her when he sat down at the opposite end of the couch. He apologized, but she insisted she was glad, for it was too early to go to bed. An hour later, though, she had dozed off once more. Considering how late it was getting, Castle figured he wouldn't wake her and instead would let her stay. He pulled a knit blanket from off the back of the sofa and draped it across her legs. Just when he thought he could escape without waking her again, he bashed his shin into the coffee table during his attempt to sneak off. Though he tried to muffle his curse, it still woke her.
"Wha—oh I fell asleep again," she concluded with notable disappointment.
He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Want me to get you a more comfortable pillow?"
Kate pushed herself up into a sitting position and rubbed her fingers over he left eye. "No, no; I should go."
"Why don't you stay?" he suggested with the casual shrug of one shoulder.
She cracked a smile as though he'd made a purposeful joke. "I can't stay."
"Why not?" Castle countered, sitting down on the coffee table so that he could face her. "Think of it this way: you're here and you're relaxed now. If you go home, you'll be wide awake again. Really, this is the best plan for you to get sleep."
She ran her teeth over her bottom lip in that way that drove him absolutely mad. "Is that so?"
"Yes. Completely."
"While I do appreciate your efforts to convince me, Castle, I shouldn't stay I…" She paused, looked down at herself, and then back up at him. "I don't want to spend the night like this."
He hummed and considered for a moment. "Well, no—those skinny jeans you wear can't be all that comfortable to sleep in. How about some cotton pants? I have a few pairs I don't use since I—since I usually just sleep in boxers."
She gave her head a tiny shake. "You're not seriously suggesting this."
"Oh, I think I'm more than suggesting it." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully at her. Then, he stood and reached his hand down, palm up, a clear invitation for her to accept. He held his breath, wanting nothing more than to wake up under the same roof as her, but also not wanting to push her too hard if she wasn't ready. Thankfully, after twenty-five agonizing seconds, she placed her hand in his and let him pull her up from the couch.
Crossing the threshold of his bedroom, Castle dropped Kate's hand and crossed the room to reach his walk-in closet. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath in hopes of calming his thundering heart rate; it didn't do any good. Absolutely nothing could relax him in that moment, because Kate Beckett was in his bedroom.
Kate Beckett was in his bedroom!
Though it was very juvenile, that notion alone thrilled him endlessly, even if she only followed him to get pajama pants.
Crouching down, he dug through the built-in drawers until he found the light blue pants that had been shoved to the back. He gave them a shake so they were no longer half-folded and half-balled up, and determined them to be acceptable. Then, stepping out of the closet, he held them out to her with a smile. "There you go."
"Thanks Castle." With the pants held limp in her hand, she shuffled not towards the exit, but the end of the bed where she plopped down. As her gaze remained trained on the rug at their feet, Castle felt the excitement in his chest morph into concern and he asked again if everything was okay.
That time, seeming a little more weary and pensive than her traditional Beckett self, she gazed up at him and confessed, "My mother's birthday was yesterday."
"Oh, Kate," he breathed out. So that was the source of her insomnia and melancholy state; it made perfect sense. He walked over and sat beside her on the mattress, looping one arm around her shoulders, and patiently waiting for her to speak again. She did after almost a minute.
"It usually doesn't bother me that much. I think about the good times we had together, laughing over cake and presents, but… I dunno." She gave a shrug and turned towards him with a fractured smile. "This year was just a little bit harder."
"That's perfectly understandable. Is there anything I can do?"
She brushed her fingers beneath her left eye and promised, "No, no. It's… this evening was a help—really. I'm just going to change. Bathroom's back there, right?"
"I, um, wha—yes." He stammered, a bit startled by the fact that she was suddenly going to be using his bathroom. Shit! He had picked his towels up that morning—right!? "Um, can I—I mean, do you need anything? A towel? Toothbrush?"
She froze halfway to the bathroom, turned, and gave him a smirk. "You would have extra toothbrushes on hand for guests."
He felt his cheeks blush at being called out. "Well, I try to—I mean, I don't want anyone to feel-"
"Relax, Castle," she said, though the expression on her face told him she was clearly enjoying teasing him. "It's very gentlemanly of you."
Dipping his chin he said, "Bottom drawer on the right hand side has the toothbrushes. Cabinets to the left of the sink have the washcloths."
"Thanks." She gave him a nod before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.
Once she was out of view, Castle flopped back on the mattress and huffed out a breath. He knew that rationally there was no reason to be upset or nervous about the offer he made to Kate. Clearly, they had both had sexual partners before, and being a polite host was nothing to be ashamed of. Still, it seemed that everything revolving around Kate in that sense made him uneasy since, well, he had every intention of never being intimate with a woman other than her again.
A few minutes later Kate emerged carrying her jeans and wearing his pajama pants, which Castle had to admit looked beyond adorable on her since they were slightly oversized. She gave him a soft smile and walked over to the side of the bed closet to the bathroom. She placed the folded jeans on the corner of the nightstand, reached out for the top sheet on the bed, but then stopped and turned to him, asking, "This side is okay, right?"
"Wha—ah—yep. Yes, I mean; that's fine." Once again he had been caught off guard because—shit! She was going to be sharing his bed, too!? Not that he minded, of course, but he could hardly believe she was willingly doing so. He was sure such an event would have required major arm-twisting from him, but he was endlessly relieved it had not. Things really were beginning to change for them.
Smile on his face, he entered the bathroom, bushed his teeth, and then emerged to find Kate already lying down beneath the covers. As casually as he could manage, he crossed the room, turned off the light, and said, "Goodnight, Beckett."
"Night, Castle," she replied, her voice a bit sluggish. Though he imagined she fell asleep quickly, Castle stayed awake for at least half an hour more wearing an ear-to-ear grin. He just couldn't help it! Kate Beckett was in his bed!
Sitting on the couch in Castle's loft, Kate cupped her elbows with the opposite hands and hugged her arms tightly to her chest. Though they had a nice evening and a successful New Recipe Friday meal the weight in her chest continued to grow heavier and heavier. She feared it would soon crush her heart and lungs and she felt quite powerless against it. She knew she should get up, scurry off, and spring for a cab so she didn't have to breakdown on the subway, but if she did her companion would ask questions. She couldn't blame him, of course, since her quick exit would hardly be explainable, but she also knew that if he pushed her for more details, she would probably breakdown, and so she sat, trying to take deep breaths, hoping the feeling would soon pass.
"Ohh Beckett," he began a few moments later, "I think I found our next challenge for new recipe night. It's—whoa, hey, what's going on?" his excited tone immediately morphed into one of concern when her gaze met his.
She tried to subtly brush her fingertips against her cheek while she said, "Nothing; I'm fine. What's the recipe?" though she felt certain he saw her action for the creases on his brow deepened.
"You're not fine, you're crying."
As was her way, she flat out ignored his accurate assessment and instead reached out her right hand for the iPad he now held limply. "Let me see the recipe."
"No," he responded, moving the tablet even further from her grasp. "Not until you tell me what's wrong."
"I'm fine," she insisted, her tone a little impatient.
His expression remained steadfast. After studying her face for several more moments he guessed, "Is it because today's case reminded you of your mother's?"
"Wha—" She stumbled over the word, her instinct telling her to aggressively refute his statement, but the words caught in her throat. His guess was one hundred percent correct. The tightening of her chest had begun the moment auburn-haired Christine showed up in the precinct after her mother's body had been found. She was young, scared, and heartbroken; Kate remembered those feelings all too well.
Though the part of her that refused all heart wrenching emotions wanted to push herself away both physically and emotionally from the kind man beside her, she fought it with the balling of her fists and gritting of her teeth. Running was what the old Kate Beckett did best. But the new Kate Beckett—the one whose heart had been pierced by a sniper's bullet; the one who nearly missed out on her chance to experience a great love—would not run, hard as it was. She would be honest with him, even if such a thought made her stomach flip over in her gut.
"H-how did you know that?"
He offered a soft smile as he scooted a bit closer to her on the couch. "Because I saw your face. When Christine told you that she couldn't believe her mother was gone, because she was just here yesterday. I saw your face. You tried to hide the flinch, but I saw it."
Her throat feeling thick with emotion, Kate nodded. "Y-yeah. I've had family members who lost fathers and mothers come to see me dozens of times before, but… this one really hit me."
The writer nodded wisely. "It's because she's so similar to you. We chatted a bit when I took her to get a drink. She's strong, proud, driven—so many similarities. Sure, she's a little bit older, but still in med school just like you were in college."
Plus, she's an only child and has a father who has health issues, Kate added inside her own mind. Christine's mother's mugging-gone-wrong had rung more than a few bells in Kate's mind and, she imagined, would stay with her for several more days.
Suppressing a shiver, she gazed up at the man beside her who radiated more kindness than she ever thought possible. Though it was still difficult for her to open up at times, doing so to this man, who knew her much better than she knew herself, was without question the best decision she'd made in her life. He understood her in the way that no one ever had before, and that was a great relief. "Yeah, she, um… I hope she doesn't struggle like I did."
Castle gave her a smile then reached out his hand to give one of hers a squeeze. Turning away, he grabbed the iPad once again and held it out to her. Kate took it with a breathy laugh. "So, what's on next week's menu?"
"Though maybe we'd jump back to pasta and try our own stuffed ravioli."
"Ambitious."
He arched an eyebrow at her. "You don't think we're up to the challenge?"
She smiled and handed back the device. "I think we can handle it, but it's getting late so I guess I should…"
"Really?" His voice rang with surprise and she couldn't say she blamed him. After all, she had been spending almost every Friday night in his bed; why would that one be any different? Because of the case, however, she wasn't sure she was up to doing anything but sitting quietly with a glass of wine.
Trying to brush off the issue she shrugged a shoulder and said, "'s just been a long day."
"Which is why you should stay here. I can get you a glass of wine? Or—oh!—how about a bubble bath?"
She laughed as his enthusiasm but decided to side-step the question as she didn't feel they were quite ready for him to joke about sharing the tub with her. "Ah, I don't think so Castle."
"Then why don't we just keep sitting here. C'mon.." He moved on the couch so he was sitting right beside her and could rest his arm against her thigh and draw lazy circles on her patella. Though a resurgence of Old Kate inside of her wanted to stand up, New Kate decided to relax back against the sofa cushions, shut her eyes, and let the comforting presence of her partner relax the tightness in her belly.
For the next half hour Castle remained almost entirely silent as he scrolled through his tablet (a move Kate assumed was quite agonizing for him). She did the same, resting her shoulder up against his, and allowing herself to focus on the gentle touch of his fingers instead of the gut-wrenching flashbacks in her mind. Slowly but surely she began to feel better; to relax.
When she finally opened her eyes and gazed over at him, Kate felt an overwhelming sense of love flood through her. Not only was Castle's presence continually comforting and healing to her, he was a completely extraordinary person. He knew her so well, which in of itself might have been a miracle, but above and beyond that he seemed to know just the way to coax her out of her mind; to stop her from tumbling back down the rabbit hole.
For the first time in what seemed like her entire life, Kate wasn't afraid to have someone know her in that way, to be connected to them so deeply. Castle knew her, he understood her, he cared for her, and he would always be there for her. She knew that, accepted it, and—even more miraculously—felt the same. He was her partner in every sense of the word and it was finally time for them to be partners—in every sense of the word.
The next emotion Kate felt was through her like a wave was not terror or anxiety, but overwhelming calm, and she knew in that moment that she was ready. She knew that having Castle as her boyfriend (and, in all likelihood, much more than that in the not so distant future) would bring her joy and comfort. Opening up to him, sharing all of herself—even the scared and imperfect portions—wouldn't be scary, because she knew with certainty there would be no other person better suited for her than him.
She remained on the couch, smiling to herself, for several more minutes before announcing she was going to get ready for bed, in hopes it might encourage him to join her so they could snuggle. In response Castle hummed and said, "kay; I'll be there in a few minutes."
Kate squeezed his hand, stood off the couch, took a few steps towards the bedroom, and stopped. Shaking her head, she glanced back at her partner, who was too busy reading to notice her actions. Silly—it was so silly. She had been spending the night after their Friday night hangouts so frequently that her presence had just become expected. Not that she didn't enjoy being beside him when she woke up in the morning—she absolutely did—but they never spoke about it in any official capacity, which was just so ridiculously them.
Almost half an hour passed before Castle joined her in the bedroom, and she was glad she had stayed awake, because there were things that needed said; thing she wanted him to hear, but in keeping with their pattern, she wasn't quite ready to say them aloud. Instead, when he settled down beside her, she reached out to stroke the side of his face with her thumb. He gazed over at her slightly curious and she smiled.
"I just wanted to thank you for this evening; it really meant a lot."
He nodded. "Of course, Beckett; that's what partners are for."
She brushed her thumb over his cheek for another moment, daring herself to move forward, until she finally did. As casually as though she had been kissing him goodnight for weeks, Kate leaned in and pressed her lips against his. She felt his cheek jolt beneath her hand, but she knew it was from surprise and not discomfort. Pulling back, she saw he looked endlessly confused and perhaps a little bit hopeful. It took every ounce of self-control within her not to break out in a grin, laugh, or start singing a song to reflect the way her heart now felt as though it was soaring, but she could not. She knew it would drive him even crazier if she treated their first real kiss as something casual, so she merely lay down with her head against his shoulder and didn't say a word.
For thirty seconds he said nothing. He didn't move and she couldn't even feel his chest rising and falling with his breath! Then, with a rather dramatic sigh, he moved his left hand atop her right where it rested on his chest. "Oh, Beckett."
"What?" she responded, trying to sound casual.
"Nothing… you just drive me completely crazy, that's all."
Smiling to herself, she shut her eyes. "Just returning the favor."
"Fair enough."
For almost a minute she thought that would be the end of their exchange, but then he said, "Hey Beckett? Instead of making dinner next Friday, do you want to go out—on a date?"
Nibbling at her bottom lip, Kate lifted her head until she spotted the ridiculously gleeful expression on his face. "Do we have to wait until Friday?"
"Tomorrow?"
She hummed and lay back down with her head on his chest. "Tomorrow; it's a date."
A/N: Thanks for reading!