I'm awake now, but I don't open my eyes straight away. I wince at the screaming ache that my body now relays to my sleepy brain. The fight. That was going to leave a mark or two. I shift
a little, trying to feel it out, and become aware of body heat next to me. Castle. Last night floods my mind and my eyes snap open, taking in a foreign ceiling. I turn my head and see him lying
there, prone, his head facing me, still fast asleep.
I think I'm blushing at the reality of it. He's so real, so larger than life and I'm in bed with him, after a night of, let's face it, pretty torrid activity. He's beginning to stir and I grab at the
peaceful moment, knowing it's going to end when he opens his eyes.
"Kate." There's a question in his tone, as though he can't quite believe it happened either.
"Castle," I respond, maintaining a ghost of distance so I can get a hold of myself before being swept along by those sleepy blue eyes again.
I'm panicking inside - I was so very, very sure of myself last night, but I hadn't thought further than falling willingly into his bed. I hadn't worked through what the morning would hold; what he
would want, what I would want, what...
"Come here," he says with warmth and pulls me into a kiss that shuts my train of thought into a stutter. I melt into it. There's nothing else to do.
"I need coffee," I manage when we come up for air, and he smiles.
"That's my job," he says, pushing off the bed and pulling on some shorts, before padding out into the kitchen.
When he returns, I've propped myself up a little on his pillows and pulled the sheets around myself. Hell, there's no point being demure, but I still feel the need.
"So..." he says, handing me a mug. "You don't have anywhere to be this morning?"
No time like the present. "I resigned."
"You... resigned?" He sounded incredulous. "How'd that go down with the wicked witch of the 12th?"
I smile. "I don't think she knew what to say. I don't care, I'm done. Nothing there I wanna fight over anymore."
He curls up next to me, sipping his coffee. "Wow," he says. We're quiet for a minute, both of us taking in the gravity of the situation.
I want to say something, anything, about last night, but I'm stuck. He sips his coffee thoughtfully and for the first time I sense he's as tongue tied as I am which has to be a first.
"Thank you," he says. "For last night. It was incredible."
Okay, not so tongued tied as all that. I smile again. "You're welcome Rick. Maybe we can do it again."
"Maybe? Are you kidding me? There is no maybe here, there is only stone cold certainty. We are doing that again."
I pause, sip coffee and look at him for a minute. He's looking down my body, not with naked lust, but with concern. I track his eyes to my torso and the bruises there.
"What happened, Kate?" He asks.
"We fought. He threw me off a building. I clung on for dear life and all I wanted was to see your face," I say, looking deeply into my coffee cup.
He takes the cup from me and pulls me to him by my wrists. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," he says.
We share a kiss so tender I feel my head swimming. "I'll always be there next time. Always."