Lindsey suggested New Year's and this happened.
2009-2010
It's a party. It's just a party.
A party where she's surrounded with people she doesn't know, but seem to know her, and Christmas decorations she didn't expect to see, that have her eyes darting around and memories flashing too vividly through her mind.
There's a reason she never decorates for Christmas.
Another person catches her in the crowd. An older man she imagines is probably another writer, one she's never heard of, because the first thing he asks her is how he can get a muse of his own. And it's probably a joke, but it has her heart pounding, her breath coming quick as she forces a laugh and tells him she doesn't know.
She doesn't know much of anything right now, just that she doesn't really want to be here.
That she needs to escape.
For a moment, just a split second, she debates heading for the door and leaving the party, but she doesn't want to deal with the interrogation from Castle tomorrow. Doesn't want to have to explain why she left, why she couldn't handle staying.
So she pushes through the crowd, her eyes locked on the floor, until she finds the edge of it, where it fades out near the wall, near a door.
It might be rude. It's not her home, after all.
But it's not an actual doorway, either. It's a gap in between two bookshelves that she knows leads to his office. She's crossed it before.
She makes sure no one's watching her before stepping across the threshold, her steps slow and hesitant. It hasn't changed much since she was last here. Heat Wave sits on the corner of the desk, and his computer is closed, the lights are off.
And there's a shadow being crossed over her.
Slowly, she turns around, and finds Castle standing there, his brows furrowed. He steps into the office behind her, without a word until he's standing just a foot away, his eyes locked on hers.
"You okay?"
She forces a smile, a nod.
"You sure?"
Another nod, even though he doesn't seem to believe her. He reaches for her, his hand curling around her arm gently, and she fights the urge to pull away, to push him away.
"It's almost midnight," he breathes. "I didn't think you would stay this long."
She frowns at that. "How close to midnight?"
The countdown that fills the loft, as though on cue, answers for him, and a grin spreads across his face.
"So, do you need somebody to kiss at midnight?"
Her frown deepens, as the crowd in the living room counts down to six.
"Because I do," he continues. "And you would definitely be…satisfactory."
Her gaze does not dart down to his lips at that, as the loft echoes with the number three.
"And I seem to be your only opt–"
She kisses him, presses her lips against his so hard he stumbles back. His grip on her arm tightens, the other hand flying out to curl around her hip as she reaches up to wrap her arms around his neck.
It was supposed to be a quick peck to shut him up. It isn't.
Because it's only when his tongue is in her mouth and his hands have slipped under the fabric of her shirt and her back hits the edge of his desk…that's when she comes back to herself.
And realizes she absolutely cannot be kissing Castle.
She shoves him away, ignoring the pang of disappointment that makes its way to her chest, her stomach.
"Nothing happened here," she says. It's all she can think to say, all she can think to do. "Nothing."
His gaze flashes, his fists clenching at his sides. "But–"
"Nothing," she repeats. "Absolutely nothing, Castle."
And before he can say another word, before she can give into her spinning thoughts telling her to kiss him again, she leaves.
Finally escapes the party as quickly as she possibly can.
2010-2011
He was never supposed to find out. She didn't want him to know for this very reason.
Because now he's inviting her to his party, the very one she lied to get out of attending. The reason she told him she had plans with Josh when plans with Josh are a rare occurrence.
A rare occurrence she doesn't usually wish was more common.
Except for today, Castle's smiling at her sweetly, standing at the end of her desk. Her paperwork is done, and he overheard Josh apologizing to her, over the phone, for not getting the evening off and she has no reason to say no, no way to escape.
Well, there is the kiss. The reason she's avoiding his party in the first place.
It's been a year now, a whole year, and it still haunts her like a nightmare. A nightmare that has her waking up hot and needy instead of afraid.
"So?" he asks. "What do you say?"
She sneaks a glance at the clock. It's already pretty late, their paperwork having gotten them stuck at the precinct and, for a split second, she wonders why he didn't leave earlier.
He never sticks around for paperwork, especially not when he has better, more fun plans.
She blinks, turning back to him, to see his smile, the slight upturn of his lips.
He was trying to catch her in a lie, or trying to present her with a last minute invite and it worked and now she can't possibly say no.
So she says yes.
When they get to the party, she manages to escape. She finds the boys in the crowd, and Lanie sipping on punch, chatting with a few of Castle's younger writer friends.
She opts to hang out with the boys, can't handle the thought of being nothing but Castle's muse for the next few hours.
Can't risk a repeat of last year.
But it's still overwhelming, as much as she expected the crowd and the decorations, the Christmas tree that stands tall in the middle of his living room. There's still too many people, too many reminders of her past, of things she tries not to think about.
She doesn't realize what time it is when Castle comes up beside her, his hand settling on the middle of her back.
"You okay?" he whispers.
She's not sure she is, but he can't know that. She can't have him escorting her somewhere private, can't risk kissing him again.
He doesn't seem to feel the same.
"Why don't we go to the kitchen?" he offers. "Nobody's there. Everyone's waiting for the countdown."
Her jaw clenches, her answer caught in her throat.
"I promise I won't try to kiss you this time."
She agrees.
He leads her to the kitchen, through the crowd, their heads dipped, ignoring those who try to talk to them. His hand stays on her back the entire way, until she's leaning against the kitchen counter, and he's lingering near the fridge.
The countdown starts and she smiles.
"You're not going to try and find someone to kiss you at midnight?"
He shrugs. "I can go one year without a midnight kiss," he says.
And he stays true to his promise. He doesn't try to kiss her when the countdown reaches zero.
She kisses him.
It's short this time, a quick, sweet press of her lips against his before he's pushing her away. His eyes wide, shocked.
She shouldn't do it. That knowledge flashes through her mind for a split second, before she dives back in.
It's messy and quick, her teeth clashing against his before nipping at his lip, his tongue slicking across the roof of her mouth. She grasps at his hair, and he clutches at her hips, tugging her against him until she pulls away, short of breath and gasping.
Her hips are still pressed against his.
And that's when she remembers why they shouldn't be doing this.
"I have a boyfriend."
His eyes go dark, somber, as he nods his head slowly. "And I have a girlfriend."
"Exactly," she breathes. "I– We can't. We're just…friends and nothing happened here today. Okay?"
He nods. "Okay."
She squeezes his arm gently before turning away. "I…should go."
He doesn't say a word, doesn't try to hold her back and she leaves, the ghost of his kiss on her lips, the kiss never to be spoken of again.
2011-2012
She doesn't get invited to his party, and something in her gut churns, unsettling and nauseating and all she can think about is the kiss last year, the one from two years ago.
This is the first time she really wants to kiss him at midnight.
But it's probably for the better that she doesn't. She's not ready. Not yet. And she couldn't…
She's not sure she could kiss him only to push him away…again.
So she tries not to dwell on it, tries not to get too disappointed.
And then, when the sky is dark, the city still bright, there's a knock on her door, making her stomach flutter, her heart lift with hope.
She doesn't check the peephole before swinging the door open, to find him standing there, smiling.
He walks in without a word from either of them, comfortable in her home, and she doesn't mind. She hasn't minded for a long time. She pushes the door closed behind him, and follows him into her living room, where he's now sitting on the couch, as though nothing about this is odd.
"Castle?" she breathes. He hums, turning to look at her. "What about your party?"
"Oh? You mean my mother's party. I think it's going well," he says. "I left right after the boys showed up."
Her brows furrow, lips twisting into a confused frown and he reaches for her hand, gently pulls her down so she's sitting next to him on the couch.
There's no space between them. She can't bring herself to move.
"This was always my plan, Kate," he says. "I asked mother to host the party this year, because I figured…I know you don't like crowds and, especially after the sniper case, I just…I figured you'd rather have a quiet New Year's Eve at home."
Oh. He is so sweet. Too sweet. Too caring, and she can't formulate a response, her lips parting around silence, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
"But if you want me to go…"
She catches his arm before he can stand, fingernails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. "No," she breathes. "Don't go. I…watch the New Year's Rockin' Eve with me?"
He smiles, wide and happy, eyes flashing with appreciation and admiration and…love as he drops back to the couch next to her, his hand settling on her leg for just a moment.
"I'd love to, Kate."
So they watch together, space still absent between them as he sings along to the year's greatest hits and ropes her into singing along with him, as she laughs through the better half of most of the songs because he exaggerates every line, every word.
He tries to dance to Gangnam Style, failing miserably, and comments on how Taylor Swift's song fit the early years of their partnership perfectly.
Part of her thinks the romance side of the song still fits their relationship today.
It's only when the final act comes on the he calms down, dropping onto the couch next to her, gasping for breath as she laughs through the song, through Ryan Seacrest's announcement that it's only a few minutes until midnight.
Only a few minutes until she might kiss him…again.
The countdown catches her off guard, loud through the speakers of her TV, but quieter than it usually is at his parties. He looks down at her, eyes wide, as though he didn't think about this part.
She did. Too much.
She wants this…too much.
So, as dumb as it may be, and as much as she knows that she's not ready, and this will only torture them both, she reaches up, splays her hand across his jaw, nods her permission as the countdown reaches one.
And then he kisses her. For the first time since their kiss in the alley, he kisses her and she melts.
His arms wrap around her waist this time, gentle as he draws her closer, as her other hand comes up to curl around his nape.
It's soft. It's sweet. Not the release of built up tension, but an act of unspoken love.
Her hands are still on his face when she pulls away, her eyes fluttering open against the onslaught of emotions that swirl in her mind, that have her heart pounding against her ribcage, her butterflies flooding her stomach..
"Castle," she breathes. "I'm still not…ready."
His arms come out from around her waist, and her hands fall from his face to settle in her lap. Her gaze meets his, but the disappointment she expected to see isn't there.
"I know," he whispers back. "I just…"
Her hands wring together in her lap, her mouth going dry. "You what?"
His gaze locks on hers, traps her breath in her chest. "I– You're my best friend, Kate."
And she knows what he means, knows which words go unspoken. Knows what he wants to say, what he's holding back for her benefit.
He loves her.
She reaches for him this time, rests her hand on his leg as she seals a promise between them, quiet and soft, one she's determined to keep.
"Next year."
2012-2013
They throw the party together. It goes unspoken, but their family and friends know.
She helps him choose the music and make the food, her cheeks turning pink when he leans down to whisper in her ear, reminding her of their first kiss at a party just like this.
The decorations don't bother her this year. Instead, they're familiar reminders of a pleasant Christmas, of being wrapped in his arms, staring up at the tree and realizing that moving on is good. That loving him, and being a part of his family, is the best thing for her right now. Forever.
The custom made bracelet he got her, with tiny handcuffs in place of the usual clasp, dangles on her wrist when the first guests, the boys, along with Jenny and Lanie, arrive.
They know, their smiles bright when Castle welcomes them, and she follows to do the same.
It's amazing. It's extraordinary.
She feels good. She feels at home.
As more guests show up, they part. Gates won't be here, but other people from the precinct will be, people she doesn't necessarily trust with their secret.
Besides, she kind of likes the forbidden smiles across the room, the secret kisses when they meet up in the kitchen.
She lingers with her friends from work while he catches up with his writer friends, and then he joins her, an arm banding around her waist as her head falls onto his shoulder.
They've never been good at pretending to be just friends.
He only stays that way for a second, leaning down to dust a kiss to the side of her head, ignoring the whispered aw from their friends as he whispers against her ear.
"Meet me in the office at midnight."
She chuckles, nods against him quickly before letting him go.
And, just as he asked, she escapes the crowd just as the countdown to midnight begins, stepping across the threshold, into the office. He's standing by the desk, a smile on his face.
She doesn't hesitate, walks right into his arms, his lips landing on hers just as her arms wrap around his waist.
It's a mirror of their first kiss, his hands sneaking under the fabric of her shirt as her tongue slicks into his mouth, her back hitting the edge of the desk.
This time, she doesn't push him away.
His hands drift down, over her ass, and he lifts her onto the edge of the desk as he steps between her legs, into the cradle of her hips.
It's only when she can't breathe anymore that she pulls back, dives right for his neck to nip at his pulse.
"How long will it take you to get rid of everyone?" she breathes, the words washing across the side of his neck.
He hums. "Probably not all that long," he answers. His hand trails up her back, around her side, and his fingers slip to tease at the waistband of her jeans, drawing a whine from her throat. "Half of them are probably just as horny as you are."
She slaps at his chest, but doesn't bother denying it. Instead, she leans up, presses another kiss to his lips.
"Go get rid of the guests, babe," she tells him. "And then meet me in bed."
2013-2014
They truly throw the party together this time, without the secrets, without needing to sneak around to hide their relationship.
It's smaller than usual, the gathering. Just close friends, no reporters, no random writers from Black Pawn he ran into once, no giant crowd to announce midnight's arrival.
She spends most of the night by his side, his arm around her waist, her ring on her finger. He smiles easily, does most of the talking, but she doesn't mind.
She likes it, a lot.
Being Richard Castle's muse-turned-fiancee, the love of his life like he's the love of hers, in the face of people they know and care for…it's wonderful. It's fun.
It has her heart fluttering with the knowledge that this will be her forever.
Her head falls against his shoulder, her eyes falling closed for a moment of peace. He squeezes her waist gently, smiling down at her.
"You good?" he whispers.
She nods, smiling, and turns her head to press a quick kiss to his shoulder. "I'm good," she promises. "I like…this."
"The party?"
She looks around at that, at the small groups that have formed in the living room. Ryan, Jenny, Esposito and Lanie are all sitting on the couch, enjoying each other's company. A few other friends from the precinct are lingering near the piano, and some of Castle's writer friends are standing by the walls of bookshelves.
"The smaller party," she answers. "It's…intimate." Her arm tightens around his waist, her gaze locking on his as her free hand comes up to rest on his chest. "Can our wedding be like this?" she whispers. "A little bigger, but still, not too big?"
He leans down to press a kiss to her lips. "Whatever you want, Kate."
The Ryans end up leaving at around eleven, because Jenny is due any day now. Her hand still locked in Castle's, Kate follows to say goodbye to them, reminding their friends to call when the baby decides to make his or her appearance.
They spend the rest of the night talking with Lanie and Esposito, after turning on the TV to listen to that instead of the music that had been playing through the loft.
It's almost midnight when he stands, just as the main performance is announced on TV, and holds his hand out to her.
She giggles, takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet, lets him pull her into his arms. He wraps his arms around her waist while hers lace around his neck.
"What are you doing?" she whispers, as he starts swaying them back and forth.
The song isn't even slow, and now all eyes are on them.
He presses a kiss to the side of her head, breathes his answer against the shell of her ear. "Practicing."
She hides her smile in the crook of his shoulder, wondering if he can feel the pounding of her heart, if he knows how nervous she is, how weird it is for her to be the center of attention.
How stupidly happy this makes her.
They dance through the countdown, until the clock strikes midnight and her chin tilts upwards and he kisses her in front of everyone.
It's sweet at first, like he's trying to keep it tame this year, but doesn't quite succeed because next thing she knows, she's pressed against his chest and swallowing back the moan that threatens to leak into his mouth from hers.
They're horrible hosts.
Because next thing she knows, everyone is excusing themselves and wishing every else a great new year before disappearing down the hall.
Lanie leaves with a wink, eyeing them both like she knows exactly what's going to happen once she leaves.
Honestly, everyone probably knows at this point.
The last guest leaves and Castle lets out a sigh, his eyes locking on hers, dark with desire.
It takes all of thirty seconds before she's pressed against the door.
2014-2015
Their friends are busy, their families, too. Martha has a party elsewhere, and Alexis is hanging out with friends from university. Ryan and Jenny opted to stay in with their sleepy baby girl. And Lanie and Esposito, having just broken up, were less than excited at the prospect of a makeshift double date.
And Castle spends way too much time moping about it.
She finds him in the kitchen, snacking on one of the few gingerbread men that survived Christmas, frowning at the calendar hanging on the fridge.
Reaching for him, her arms wrap around his waist, her head falling to rest on his shoulder. She snaps a leg off his gingerbread man and pops it into her mouth, ignoring his halfhearted glare.
"Cheer up, babe," she whispers. "It's not that bad. We get to have the evening to ourselves."
He hums, his lips still pressed together, curled downwards into a frown. "I know," he says. "I just…I was looking forward to throwing our first party as Mr. and Mrs. Castle."
"Because the mini reception we had after our wedding wasn't enough," she teases, patting his stomach teasingly. "Come on, Castle, we'll throw a party some other time."
He shrugs, still staring straight ahead.
She pulls away after a few seconds, and steals the rest of the cookie from his hand. She bites it into it slowly, drawing his wide eyes to her mouth. He watches as she chews, and then swallows.
"How can I make this up to you?" she asks. "Save New Year's Eve?"
He shrugs, but his eyes flash, drifting down the length of her body before meeting her gaze again, and a grin spreads across his face.
She rolls her eyes, but sneaks a glance at the clock anyway.
Eleven o'clock. She has an hour until midnight.
"I have a plan," she tells him. "Meet me in your office at midnight."
And he does.
She's standing there, facing his desk, the computer closed and a single copy of Heat Wave sitting on the wooden surface. She's wearing a grey turtleneck and a pair of jeans.
It's the same outfit she was wearing on New Year's Eve five years ago.
And he must recognize the scene, because he waits for her to turn around before stepping deeper into the room,, until he's standing right in front of her, his eyes flashing with recognition.
"You okay?"
She smiles, nods.
"Are you sure?"
She nods again, as he reaches forward to rest a hand on her arm, making her teeth find her lower lip.
How he remembers this moment so well…it has her wondering if it's replayed in his mind as much as it has in hers.
"It's almost midnight," he says softly. "I didn't expect you to stay this long."
She tries to force a frown, and fails. "How close to midnight?"
There's no countdown to tell them this time. The TV is off and the living room empty, so he breathes the first number for them, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
"So, do you need someone to kiss at midnight?" he asks. "Because I do and you would be…more than satisfactory."
She smiles at that, purposefully lets her gaze drop to his mouth, her stomach churning with anticipation.
She had been in denial then, scared to be with him, scared of how much she wanted him. And now…now she has him, his ring on her finger, the promise to spend the rest of their lives together.
He breathes another number. Two.
"And I seem to be your only opt–"
She doesn't let him finish, doesn't even know if it's actually midnight when she crushes her mouth against his, her hands flying up to frame his jaw.
It's different, so unlike the first one. He knows her well, knows that when he nips at her lower lip a certain way, her knees go weak, and that she loves it when he grabs her hips and presses her flush against him.
And this time, when he presses her up against the edge of his desk, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt, she doesn't pull away, she doesn't run, she doesn't freak out.
She doesn't tell him nothing happened, that nothing will happen.
Because something does happen. On his desk, and then in their bed…more than once and he doesn't complain about that New Year's Eve again.
2015-2016
They don't throw a party this year, either. Martha does instead, inviting Alexis and even the boys and Lanie from the precinct, even when Castle tells her that he won't be attending.
She won't be either, because she's here, at home, with him.
His arms are wrapped around her, like they usually are, like they mostly have been since she came home. Like he doesn't want to let her go, is scared that if he does, she'll leave again.
As though he still doesn't know that that, going without him for that long, again, is the last thing she wants to do.
Her head falls against his shoulder, and she nuzzles deeper into his embrace. Her one leg is draped over his, her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt.
The TV is playing, singer after singer appearing on stage, people pressed together in the crowd, bundled in heavy coats as they prepare to ring in 2016.
He presses a kiss to her head, whispers that they should go to the show live sometime.
She thinks she might prefer this. She's always preferred quiet nights with him to loud crowds, but she hums her response, indifferent and noncommital as her arm tightens around his waist.
He doesn't push it, dropping a kiss to the top of her head and squeezing her shoulder gently.
They watch the New Year's Rockin' Eve special, as usual. He holds her the entire time, singing along to the year's greatest hits, smiling wide when she joins in, trailing her fingertips across his chest, laughing when he forgets a line and makes something up in its place.
As midnight grows nearer, she finds herself sitting up straighter, until the final performance begins and he pulls her onto his lap, her legs draped over his
He sweeps her hair out of her face, back over her head and behind her ears before his hand settles on her cheek. His thumb traces the ridge of her cheekbone, his eyes locking on hers.
"Kate," he breathes, the words so soft they're barely audible.
She smiles, reaching to to rest her own hand on his jaw. "Castle," she echoes. "Everything okay?"
He stares at her for a moment, and then his lips curl upwards into a small smile, his thumb tracing her cheekbone once again. "Yeah," he breathes. "I'm just…really glad you're home."
"There's no place I'd rather be, Castle," she promises. "And I'm not leaving again, so you're stuck with me for all of 2016. Think you can handle it?"
He grins. "You? For a whole year?" he says. "It will be…extraordinary."
She smiles, and the countdown starts, echoing through the loft.
"Kate," he breathes again. "I love you."
She smiles at him. "I love you, too, Rick."
And he kisses her when the clock strikes midnight, his hand framing her face, his arm cradling her body against his as she holds him close with one hand, the other curling around his nape.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against hers for just a few moments, his eyes locked on hers, as if he's trying to pin her under his stare.
As though he thinks he needs to do as much to make sure she stays.
Then he's standing, holding her bridal style, leaving the TV on as he carries her through the loft, her giggles cut short by the press of his lips against hers.
He doesn't have to worry. She's not going anywhere.