Best First Day
Okay.
So maybe he's gone a little bit overboard with Beckett's celebration cupcake. Maybe he should have stuck with the recommended measurements, and maybe, just maybe Alexis had been right about how big the cupcake would end up being.
Fine.
His cupcake, currently baking in the oven, looks more like a cake if he's being honest with himself. It's expanding, the steady rising of the dough indicating that it's going to overflow past the tin and part of him gets a little worried.
Cupcakes don't explode, do they? He flashes back to the 'Easter Peep Microwave Disaster of 2012' and cringes. No, that hadn't been fun to clean up at all.
He bends over, peers into the oven as the timer ticks on, loud and monotonous amidst the silence of the loft. The cupcake looks fine, actually. Golden brown on the top, fluffy and pretty as the top cracks open in the heat.
Good job, Rick. It's perfect.
The timer dings, shrill in his ear and he startles, stumbles backwards and slams into the countertop. His back arches with the pain as it travels up his spine, completely jarring. He groans out loud, glad that the women in the house aren't around to witness his clumsiness. They tease him enough as it is, ganging up together against him on a regular basis.
It's going to bruise, he thinks as he runs his palm down his ass. Ugh, it's already stinging and he can picture the area purpling as the day goes by. How's he going to sit down anywhere today? He'll have to have to favor his right cheek, maybe even avoid sitting at all. How's he supposed to explain to Beckett-
Oh, maybe he'll get Beckett to check on it for him. Now, there's an idea. He grins as he massages his butt, imagines her making him feel better as she works her magic on him, kissing his pain away. Mmm, yes.
The timer rings again and he snaps out of his fantasy, remembering that while cupcakes don't explode in the oven, they sure as hell can burn if he doesn't turn off the heat.
He twists the knob on the oven with an angry scowl, even though the oven has done nothing wrong this morning. In fact, he surmises as he puts on a pair of mittens and pulls the door open, the oven has done a really, really good job.
The cupcake - the giant cupcake, God, Beckett's going to kill him - smells like heaven. Vanilla with a hint of cherries, a little cinnamon in the batter because that's how Beckett likes it. The aroma wafts towards him, enveloping him in its delectable scent.
He leaves it to cool on the counter top and starts puttering around the kitchen preparing the frosting. In the distance, he hears the familiar trill of Beckett's alarm going off, and if his calculations are correct, and he's sure they are, he has about half an hour before Beckett finishes getting ready for work.
"Babe, where are you?"
Her voice travels through the loft, sleepy and confused. He thinks it's adorable that the first thing she does after waking up this morning is to question his whereabouts, but he doesn't blame her. He's not usually up before she is on most days, and when he is, it's usually for dessert of a whole other nature. He smirks at the thought. Maybe they'll have time after for that dessert.
"Just in the kitchen, Beckett. Go get ready, I'm fine," he calls out. He pauses whisking for a moment, keeps an eye on his bedroom door in case Beckett's feeling frisky and wants to come out to play. It stays shut, stoic and silent and he recommences with renewed vigor.
Humming to himself while he continues, Castle works on autopilot while the frosting takes shape, fluffing into a nice thick, creamy texture. He dips a finger into the mixture, tastes it and moans. It's delicious, just sweet enough and not too overpowering that it'll make her sick.
He leaves it to set a little as he compiles the items he needs for the next bit of his surprise. He pipes colored icing through a funnel, lays out the plastic on the table and starts. He sticks his tongue out, concentrates on trying not to tremble as he writes on the plastic ribbon.
Congratulations, Captain Beckett.
Perfect.
He's still busy giving himself a pat on the back for a job well done when he hears the shower in the ensuite turn off. His head whips around as if he expects Beckett to emerge and he gasps, realizing he doesn't have that much time left. He places a finger on the resting cupcake and narrows his eyes at it. It's still a little warm, but it'll have to do.
Castle takes out the black box containing the bracelet from its hiding place near the tin of decaf coffee grounds and flips it open. He hopes she likes it, hopes she wears it everyday to remind herself of his love, despite him not being able be by her side all the time anymore.
He carves a neat hole out of the top off the cupcake, can't resist a taste as he digs a little of it out of the middle to make room for the box. He thinks it might be a bad idea hiding the box this way, but it's a risk he's willing to take. He pictures her getting her fingers dirty as she looks for it, frosting coating her long digits as they hunt for the prize. If he plays his cards right, maybe she'll even let him lick the remnants off her finger, clean her up a little once she's done.
O-kay. Don't go there yet, Rick. There are more important things to do right now.
The black box is a perfect fit among the golden fluff of vanilla goodness and he crows to himself when the top of the cupcake settles back onto the base. She won't be able to tell it's been tampered with at all, especially not when he starts slathering the frosting all over it. Best. Idea. Ever.
Moving on to the next phase, he picks up the bowl of frosting, a spatula, and starts spreading. Beckett probably won't appreciate how much of it he's heaped on, probably will scrape it off because 'marrying you doesn't mean I married your diet, Castle' but he keeps at it nonetheless. At the very least, it'll look pretty.
The last of the frosting coils neatly on the top of the cupcake and he stands back to admire his handiwork for a few seconds. He fishes a handful of passionfruit flakes - custom ordered from his favorite candy store - out of a bag and sprinkles it over the cupcake, throws them on top with the same flourish he's seen on the television shows Alexis loves to watch.
The bright yellow of the flakes provides a beautiful contrast against the stark white of the frosting, dotting the surface, reminding him of the age old song about yellow polka dot bikinis.
He chuckles as he pictures Beckett in one, running along the Hamptons beach, skin glistening in the sunlight, maybe a little bump around her midsection - okay, no, focus.
He hears doors slide open and shut, probably from Beckett picking out her clothes for the day and his heart stutters in excitement. It's almost time for her surprise and he grins in triumph - he's timed this so well. Everything's gone off without a hitch.
Surely it's a sign of the day to come. The best first day for Captain Beckett.
He picks up the single sparkler from the table, lights it with utmost care and slides the thin stick into the cupcake. The sparks fly off in every direction as he picks the cupcake up and hides it behind him. His hand bumps against his ass and he yelps, forgetting that he's hurt himself there. He's definitely going to feel that one for days.
He turns towards their bedroom and grins, allows the pride and sheer happiness shine through his smile. His wife is Captain of the Twelfth Precinct. It's all still a little surreal and it feels like he's living out a scene from one of his books. Just how did he manage to get so goddamned lucky?
With one last deep breath, he makes his way out of the kitchen, balancing the cupcake behind him and strides with purpose into their bedroom. He can't wait to see the look on her face when he presents the cupcake to her. All he has to do now is make sure he doesn't trip and fall before he gets there.
END
Thank you for the once over, my lovely Gal Squad. Much love!
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