For the co-creator of the Original game Word of the Day! My Diane! just be aware people dont make bets with this woman...she will trick you into writing stories for her!
This takes place between the end of LOVE and the start of LOVERS filling in a few of the (ahem) holes i apprently left!
Disclaimer: i am not delusional and i realise it isnt mine...i own nothing!
He's standing outside his bar saying good night to their friends and she's holding tight to his hand. She loves him, loves him, loves him, loves him. The words she spoke as they danced are echoing in his head, and now as they stand in the darkness she wont let go of her death grip on his hand.
She has tilted into his shoulder twice, hiding her smile in the material of his jacket as she leans into him and looks up at him from under her heavy lashes.
Amusement and flirtation and mischievousness and she's smiling at him, and she loves him, he can't quite believe it inside his own head, but it's tangible, he can see it in her eyes and that smile she keeps hiding. He can feel it in every touch and skim of her fingers against his. He knows it, feels it, reflects it back to her with everything he has, but he still cant quite believe it.
Its all so…big and dramatic and he looks at her and wonders what she would do to him if he spun her out from where she hides next to him and made her dance with him in the street?
He wants to spin her and kiss her and twirl her on the spot until she's as dizzy from the action as he is from the emotion and joy that her words have awakened. He's light headed and floating like a balloon and just when he thinks he's about to drift off, out into the universe, her fingers wrap around his and she folds her body in close to him, anchoring him, grounding him.
She hasn't let go of him since they danced in the bar and every now and then he catches her staring at him. The fingers of her left hand, warm and demanding, are roaming over the skin on the back of his, whilst her other hand is buried within his closed palm. She keeps them this way as they wait.
She links their hands, palm to palm, her skin cool against the heat of his and he can feel every pulse that breaks through the delicate membrane under his touch. He has to smile at her because her hearts hammering just like his but she's not looking at him yet, so he stares, just…stares.
His thumb brushes her wrist, grazes her, skimming the beat of her veins and he feels her tense. Her eyes flash to his and hold him mesmerised as heat floods to her cheeks. She always catches him staring, always knows when he has been watching her for too long, when he gets too creepy, but this time, instead of calling him on it, she blushes.
Hair tumbled in the wind, cheeks pinking up fast and the beat of her pulse beneath his fingers, he lets out a shuddering breath, she is extremely exposed like this, open, bare before him.
Love shines out of her eyes. As stupid and poetic as it sounds love flows from her into him, a soft smile lifts the corners of her mouth and he raises his hand. He has to touch her face, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek before he lets his thumb follow and his hand settles over her face.
It feels incredibly intimate, he instantly has visions of her spread like this below him, hair fanned across his pillow as he lingers over her body, he thinks she might feel it too because her breathing picks up speed, gets heavier, deeper against his hand.
She nuzzles her cheek against his fingers and looks at him steadily, her long lashes beating slowly hiding the languid pools of her eyes as she watches him.
Lanie calls her name and she lets out a shuddering laugh, her hand closing over his in resignation as they are interrupted.
Lanie breaks apart their locked fingers and glares between them before she grins and pulls her away. He watches her go, turning to look over her shoulder at him as they take a few steps to the side, leaving him waiting by the door.
He hears her gasp the other woman's name before smacking her on the arm, Lanie has obviously just made an inappropriate (and probably accurate) comment about what's coming next. He cant help grinning at the play between the two friends and now he's thinking about what might happen next.
She told him she loves him.
He hears them both laugh and cannot stop staring at her as she tips back, hair lifting in the breeze and streetlights bouncing off her skin. A loud giggle escapes and he watches in fascination as her fingers chase it across her lips as she uses them to hide. She's not shy, but there's a vulnerability behind the action and oh, he just wants to kiss it away.
They call him over, both women turning, but it's her eyes he meets, her hand he reaches for as she lifts it beckoning him back to her side. Whatever was said lingers between the three of them as both women smile and he watches her eyes dart repeatedly to him. She captures his hand in both of hers and presses her self against him, laughing self consciously as their friend mutters an aww and tells them to get a room.
He has no objection to that idea and he winks over her head making Lanie laugh and nod in approval.
They bid Lanie farewell, ignoring the smirks and the unsaid I told you so that lingers between them as she climbs into her cab. She tells them to be good and Beckett rolls her eyes. As the cab pulls away Lanie winds down the window and leans out yelling to them
"Don't mess this up, you both need some action."
He tenses waiting for her response, glances sideways at her and she's almost mirroring him, a small smile and a side tilt of her eyes as she watches him expectantly. He does what he does best and breaks the ice with a silly comment.
"She's not wrong." he looks at her smiling widely.
"She rarely is." she breaths out slowly letting her meaning sink in as she watches him. He feels his smile falter and watches hers get wider, she enjoys teasing him, playing with him and she loves him.
He gestures to the door of his bar, offering to open it for her so they can head back inside if she wants. She shakes her head. He's so very close to bouncing up and down on the spot, but he reigns it in…just.
"Walk me home" she squeezes his hand, fingers entwined and it's a statement not a question, an inevitability.
It's where their path has been leading them for so long that she almost didn't need to say the words as they swing their threaded hands and start to walk the darkened streets. She keeps their hands in motion like she's giddy, like at any second she might start skipping down the street, he smiles at the image because he would so skip with her if she did.
She drifts closer as they walk, her free hand crosses her body tentatively, reminding them both of exactly how new this all is, and snags his forearm, she touches her head to his shoulder.
He's lost then, she has him fully and completely with that simple gesture, not that she didn't before, but the way she rests her head on his shoulder just compounds it, he's madly and insanely and deeply in love with her.
They arrive at her building and she releases him, turns slowly to face him and opens her mouth. She scrunches her eyes as she struggles to find the right words to invite him in, invite him up.
He watches for a moment as she battles with herself to find the words, he can see the internal debate about what's right and what's too fast. He doesn't want to leave her floundering, doesn't want to leave her at all.
They agreed to later, when kissing and groping in her bed had become more eager fondling and the smoke alarm had started beeping, they agreed. When she had kissed him and she had licked red pasta sauce from his face as he stood shirtless in her bedroom, they had agreed.
But now she's cautious again, hesitant, he can almost hear her thinking, she does it so loudly when she's worried or anxious, and he wonders himself. How do they bridge the gap between love and…what lays beyond? Between saying those three little words and taking that step.
But he can wait.
He needs her to know that he can wait.
He has waited, and he will continue to wait until she's sure.
She's worth it.
More than that, their love is worth it.
So, as she flounders for words that she fears could hurt his feelings, he has to speak and let her know, no matter what, no matter when, he will wait for her.
He closes the distance between them, dropping his hands to her waist as he looks into her eyes, midnight black, open wide and staring at him in the dimness of the evening.
"Beckett it's fine…it's…"
Her hand darts up between them, her fingers press to his lips, and, to stop the words he feels he needs, she brushes her thumb across his plump bottom lip.
She feels the silky smooth skin glide over the pad of her thumb, aches to feel it against her lips, her neck, her thighs when they finally reach the bedroom, and it almost stuns her beyond belief that this simple touch does what five years of words and reprimands could never do.
A brush of her thumb against his lower lip has just silenced the always talking Richard Castle.
She smiles at him and she is committing that trick to memory forever.
She doesn't want to be Beckett tonight, doesn't want armour and the internal struggle for justice, she just wants to be Kate, with him, for him, she just wants to be his Kate…just his.
Something burns in her chest to hear him speak her name, he has before, he has today, he has when he kissed her and he has when he said he loves her, but she wants to hear it now.
"Kate!" she states, looking him directly in the eyes, her hand still pressed against his lips. "My name is Kate, call me that please." She asks it of him so quietly he almost doesn't hear the eagerness in her voice, the wonder.
He smiles against her fingers, her thumb resting at the edge of his mouth and he wants to pull it between his lips and kiss and tease the gentle skin. Words like soon and later float freely to the front of his mind. He takes a second to relish her touch, sighs into it, before he pulls her hand away from his mouth and clasps it to his cheek.
"Kate." he says quietly, he rolls her name over his tongue like he's never said it before, watching the smile that breaks across her face "Glorious Kate, beautiful Kate." he can see her fighting the joy and the giddy-ness and he really wants to hear her laugh "Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate." he pulls her closer and feels her give in, the vibrations of her laughter catching at his heart as he feels them against his chest.
His hand drifts to her jaw, fingers sliding through her hair, and she's reminded of the first time he kissed her, properly kissed her, she was laughing then too, and he pulls her closer still, moulding their bodies together until he fits into all the recesses of her, and she leans into him relishing the touch.
His lips brush against hers almost chastely until her hand catches at his shirt collar, her fingers at the edge of his neck brushing softly against his skin, as her other hand finds its way to the back of his neck and her fingers slip through his hair. She seeks him out, pulls him closer and he goes more than willingly.
Her mouth opens under his, a hot exhale of air dances between them and it's all he can do not to pin her to wall of the apartment block behind them.
The minute her lips touch his she knows where this night is ending, she knows she will take him upstairs and she knows in the morning she will wake up in his arms.
She tries to maintain the kiss, lips locked together as he shows his gentle devotion, but she smiles impatiently as she plans her next move, eager now for the evenings festivities, she laughs again, louder, at her own train of thought and leans away, his lips miss hers, kissing the space they used to fill.
She's still laughing as she drops her head onto his shoulder again. She drops her hands to his chest and pushes him away.
"Come up." she says shaking her head, they are not starting this in the street, she's cold and she wants to get changed so they can go back to the loft. She wants to wake up in his bed.
He's not really paying any attention to her as he starts to speak because he's using all his willpower to be gallant and do the right thing. The moment she broke the kiss he decided he would step in and give her an out.
"I don't have to come up." he closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"Yes you do." she grins at him but he's not looking, so she folds her arms and waits.
"We don't have to do this now…"
"Yes we do."
"…tonight"
"YES…we do!"
"Not here."
"I should hope not we're in the middle of the street."
He hears her then, the teasing tone and he glances at her face and finds her smiling, he must look as confused as he feels because she rolls her eyes at him and grins widely.
"I really never saw myself having to convince you of this Castle" she says in mock confusion.
She starts walking backwards like she did in the bar, her hands reaching for his, calling for him to guide her, she takes larger steps back the closer she gets to her building, wiggling her fingers as she laughs.
He cant move, he's stuck, feet grounded to the floor in disbelief. No way is he this lucky. She loves him, she told him, she kissed him, that all happened today and its more than enough, so he cant quite bring himself to believe she's calling him to her bed.
When she reaches the door and he still hasn't moved she stops dead and holds out a hand, resting the other on her hip, her voice is demanding, in charge and teasing and the minute the words leave her mouth he propels himself forward….
"You coming Castle?