Okay, so this one is a little bit different. I mean, it's still Castle and Beckett all the way it's just, well, you'll see.
Disclaimer: Being a 15 year-old girl, I highly doubt that I own Castle. But, if it makes you feel better, I'll check. Yup, just as I suspected, it does not belong to me.
I'll bet he gets the nerve to walk the floor and ask my girl to dance.
She'll say yes.
Kate Beckett, for all of her training on hiding her emotions, was a very expressive woman. She'd frequently opt not to respond with words, but with an eye-roll, a deadly glare or a laugh that rivaled the chime of Notre Dame's bells in their exquisiteness. He'd come to know what each facial expression meant, deciphering each small nod and flick of her eyes. He was especially adept at reading her smiles. Since she could be very private about her thoughts one of the only ways people could really understand how she felt was to read her smiles, they revealed so much about her and he didn't even think she knew.
He placed his hand on her knee, letting it rest there as he watched pairs of people twirl around the dance floor. She glanced up at him for a short moment, shot him a weak smile that didn't show her teeth at all, and then promptly looked back at the table cloth she seemed to be studying. That one meant her mind was on something else, that she was stressed about something but wasn't going to tell him what.
"Not used to hanging out with these people, are you?" Even if she wasn't going to tell him, he could still guess. He knew that as much as she was in it, Kate hated the spotlight. And the dark-haired detective was a hit with the other people attending the ball. All of them had money, and he meant some serious net worths. All the men were interested in how she shined in a mostly all male career path. All the women were curious about her lifestyle, simply how she lived her life on a day-to-day basis. And all of them were captivated by her status as a muse, the inspiration for one bestseller after another.
"Not really. I mean, other than the Heat Wave party I don't usually talk to people who live this kind of life. We don't exactly hang out at the same places." She said, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen out of place behind her ear.
"It's certainly a different world. One full of as much vanity as there is luxury. I swear I should've become a plastic surgeon. I'd be rolling in dough since, apparently, there is no such thing as too many facelifts to these people." He grinned at her, squeezing her knee briefly. But she only gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes before letting out a huff of breath he assumed was supposed to be a chuckle. That one meant she was only humoring him.
"Are you okay, Kate?" Sometimes being straightforward was the best approach with her.
"What? Yeah, I'm fine." Apparently, that wasn't the case right now. He was about to pursue the issue when he saw her gaze lock on something, no longer flitting around the room as it had been for the past few minutes. He turned his head to look at whatever she found so interesting and saw him walking toward them, skillfully carrying three flutes of champagne with ease. When Kate had mentioned that he was coming he'd really hoped that he'd be occupied with his own date all night, leaving him and Kate alone. But the man had come dateless, much to his and Kate's surprise. He could've sworn he'd seen a bit of glee mixed in with the confusion in her eyes when they'd seen the other man walk in without any arm candy.
"Hey, Castle." Kate greeted.
"Hello, you two. Care for some champagne?" At Kate's nod the writer began handing over glasses before sipping from his own as he took a seat beside her. "I haven't seen you all night." Castle made it seem like the comment was directed at both of them, but he could tell he was really only talking to Kate.
"These people adore you. It seemed like the mayor never wanted you to leave his table." She said, taking a sip of the bubbling liquid in her hand.
"Hey, I've heard that you have a lot of fans yourself, Detective. I have to say, people are just fascinated by you." The novelist raised an eyebrow, leaning towards her a little. He leaned closer to her too; somehow feeling like this was a competition.
"I guess I just attract a certain type. Shallow, arrogant and bored with their privileged lives." She smirked, something he'd been trying to get her to do all evening.
"I'm wounded!" The other man made a show of placing a hand on his heart and feigning hurt. "I had no idea that you had such a low opinion of me."
"With all of this fascination with me maybe I'll start inspiring other writers. I had a lovely conversation with Patterson." The blue-eyed man's eyes widened at this and he accusingly pointed a finger at Kate.
"You will not go around inspiring other authors, Beckett. Do you hear me? You're my inspiration, and mine only." She laughed as they joked. He was uncomfortable with this author making a claim, however innocent it may seem, on her. Slinging an arm around her shoulder, he smiled at the other man hoping to make a claim of his own.
"Well, if I was made the right offer th–" She was cut off.
"You're my Nikki Heat and that's the only character you'll be inspiring. Do we understand each other?" Castle's laugh and kind eyes counteracted his stern tone and fake pout, making it obvious he was only joking. Only a fool would push Kate Beckett around.
"Only if you stop pouting." She leaned towards the writer a little, making his arm fall of her shoulders. Immediately, the man's pout turned into a grin. "That's better."
"So, how are you?" Castle turned toward him, extending his hand. The writer's handshake was firm.
"Well, I have to say, I'm very much enjoying the open bar." He held up his champagne before taking a large sip. "And who would be enough of a fool to turn down an invitation to the Mayor's Ball? Not me." Castle mumbled something unintelligible before taking a small sip of his own drink. "What?"
"Oh, nothing." The novelist's eyes strayed to the ground.
"Seriously, what?"
"Not I." The writer said.
"Huh?"
"You said not me. Technically, it should've been not I." Castle explained and he looked at Kate, silently asking if this guy was serious. Her response was an eye-roll, but it was more amused than exasperated. He'd been trying to elicit that very thing from her all night and she'd given him nothing. And yet here comes Mr. Novelist and he gets an amused eye-roll for giving grammatical corrections to her boyfriend. "Sorry, I'm an author. Correcting people's grammar is a bit of an occupational hazard. Gotten me into a lot of bar fights." He mumbled something along the lines of an okay and all of them went back to sipping their drinks, letting the silence sink in. After a few minutes of peace Castle turned to him and smiled. "Do you mind if I borrow her for a while? I've been dying to get out on the dance floor all night."
"Uh, no. Not at all." Lies, all lies. Of course, he minded. But this was her partner, though he thought that the definition must've been pretty hazy to classify a bored writer as a competent crime solver and partner to a detective. But, nonetheless, Kate called this man her partner. That basically meant she trusted the guy with her life, to back her up in situations he could only dream of. So he had to act civil around the man, right?
"Cool." Kate's 'partner' turned toward her. "May I have this dance?" Castle dramatically bowed and extended his hand. Kate took it without a moment of hesitation.
"I'd be delighted." She said as they walked off, the writer's hand resting a little too comfortably on her back. He could only watch as one of the other man's arms wrapped around her waist, as the other quickly found her hand. Kate's hand found a place on his shoulder, resting in the crook where his shoulder and neck joined as her long fingers splayed across the back of his neck. Their embrace wasn't too intimate. It was friendly; they were completely comfortable with one another as they swayed to the music.
He told himself that he was being ridiculous, that he was only seeing things. They were obviously just friends. Anyone who worked that closely with one another and had to trust each other they way they did were undoubtedly going to be close. But that didn't mean there was anything more there. Sure, he could tell that Castle had some unresolved feelings. But Kate, well, she was with him. Not the writer. That should speak for itself.
He redirected his gaze at the pair and saw Castle pull her closer, much closer than friends would be, and whisper something into her ear. She would pull away. She would surely tell him that she was happy with someone else. Namely, the man sitting in the chair they'd left him in and watching them closely. But she just laughed, a real laugh, and playfully swatted him on the shoulder. She stayed just where Castle had positioned her, far closer than normal friends would be. In fact, he swore he saw her lean into the author a little bit more.
Their mouths had stopped moving about halfway through the song. They weren't talking anymore. They were just staring at each other, green unwaveringly meeting blue. Castle smiled sweetly at her, a sight that made his stomach clench. But then Kate smiled that smile, the full-on grin that showed off her perfect teeth and made her eyes crinkle at the sides. It was the one he was only shown a handful of times but had taken him the least amount of time to decipher. It meant she was truly happy, that she wanted to stay just where she was. He hadn't seen that smile in who knows how long. And yet he was effortlessly evoking that feeling in her, a feeling of complete contentment and peace.
She wanted to stay exactly where she was at the moment. That was always, without a shred of doubt, the meaning that accompanied that grin. And, right now, as she smiled that dazzling smiled he'd longed to see all night, she was in Castle's arms.
For a while I've been wanting to write something about how Beckett's boyfriends see her relationship with Castle, and how obviously close they are. So, this was a bit different. Written from the point of view of someone we'd usually hate. But I'm happy with how this turned out. In fact, I really like this.
Oh, and the song lyrics at the top are from "Miserable and Best" by Mayday Parade.
Review? Was I right to like how this turned out? Am I completely wrong in my judgement? It'd be so very wonderful if you'd let me know.
