Here and Now
AN: Episode insert for 5x04, "Murder He Wrote."
It overwhelms her, at first. The sheer size of it as it sits imposingly, overlooking the beach. The whole idea of it.
She knew he was wealthy; she'd seen his loft, the Ferrari, the way he could whip out a hundred grand without a second thought. But this feels like another world entirely.
Does she really fit into this place, his world?
She trails him as they tour the house, barely able to follow his excited chatter as she tries to comprehend her surroundings, the long hallways, the seemingly never-ending amount of doors, the wide expanse of each room, the sprawl of the kitchen.
It's spectacular. Large and classy and enticing in its affluence. A true show piece.
How many people has he shown? The thought comes unbidden and she curses it, hates the wave of insecurities that washes over her.
But it's hard not to wonder or worry. Not to have regrets.
She remembers, sees herself as if it was yesterday, his surprising invite dominating her every thought, leaving her wanting. She'd fought it, she really tried but her insides were humming with barely suppressed need, making her question her choices, dream of things she just might be able to have. She was aching with it, so ready to throw caution to the wind and dive in with him when she'd made her decision.
And then he chose someone else.
How often had she envisioned what his place out here in the Hamptons looked like, unable to see anything but Gina dominating every room. His bed. Why does it still hurt, remembering that day, the lonely months that followed? Even now it stabs; somewhere deep in the place she doesn't like to visit.
She knows she's not rational; god she wants to stomp her foot in irritation at herself, shake lose those lingering doubts that continue to nag her brain, let them lose in the breeze over the ocean, to scatter away with the wind.
But actresses and ex-wives and cheerful, uncomplicated flight attendants aren't easily scattered.
They never talked about any of that, did they? And maybe they shouldn't, maybe they need to let bygones be bygones. They both made their choices, didn't they? And now they are here.
She sighs, turns to take in the house as it looms over her, large and gorgeous and welcoming. Only it won't be that easy. This is what she's always been afraid of, isn't it? Why she had held back, dated men with whom she could keep her emotional investment on a manageable level.
She knew this thing with Castle would be intense, knew before they ever started sleeping together that it was big. That it had the power to overwhelm her, fill her with constant longing, make her feel needy and possessive and illogical.
Because what if he lost interest? She doesn't know how he handles long-term relationships, still doesn't even know why his marriages fell apart, and what if the allure fades now that he has her day-to-day? Now that the mystery is solved.
She's all in, she's giving him all she is, free and open and vulnerable, and if he moved on from her, she's not sure she could ever get over him.
But then he folds her hand into his, cradles his warm fingers around her, his touch so tender that her heart leaps in her chest.
"None of them were you." His eyes catch the light of the sun as he speaks, shine at her earnestly and it catches her breath, the pure display of affection, of awe radiating off him as he alleviates her fears with only five words.
It runs through her like warm, aromatic coffee, warming and comforting. Like the coffee he brings her every day, has been bringing for four years, never losing interest. It stretches across her face in a slow, beaming smile.
She walks beside him as they stroll past the house along the narrow path to the pool, the thin blades tickling her ankles as they brush through the grass. Her hand is securely folded into his, her skin tingling with his presence.
What would it have been like, had she come along with him two years ago? Would she have been as overwhelmed by this place, its implications? Or would it not have mattered, would nothing have mattered but the moment, the lure of his kisses, the feverish need in her veins, the overwhelming temptation of his warm body wrapped over her?
She'd wanted him to seduce her.
For him to just take her, make her stop thinking so much, allow her to be free, and loud. To feel alive.
She knows this now, just as she realizes that she first had to free herself. She needed this time to figure out who she is, come to terms with what made her and what broke her. She thinks, is sure that if they'd gone for it back then, they wouldn't have made it. They would've drowned in her issues, encumbered by the weight of her past. Sometimes it was painful but they both needed these steps to make it here.
She stops, tugs on his hand and he turns around, facing her, eyes laced with concern and damn it, she did this to him, made him worry but she needs to fix it, doesn't want to ruin any part of their weekend.
She looks up at the house for a moment, sweeps her arm out in an encompassing gesture. "I was gonna come with you," she admits quietly, finds his eyes. "Two years ago."
"Kate," he breathes her name, his eyes widening in surprise, in shock at her revelation. Showing the same traces of regret that she's been battling with for years. She tilts closer toward his warm body, reaches out a hand and softly traces his features, the ridge of his brow, the wide swing of his cheekbone, the edge of his mouth and his eyes flutter at her touch.
"No regrets," she whispers, caressing her thumb across his lips and he places a soft kiss on the pad of her finger. "I just wanted you to know that I've been in this for a long time, Castle."
Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulls herself tighter to him, her chest against his, his warmth setting fire to her skin, incinerating her body with need.
"I'm all in."
She kisses him then, her lips slowly working over his, her tongue seeking him, delving deep, giving herself to him while she takes assurance in the delirious touches of his mouth, desire singing in her blood, weakening her knees.
Her body is humming and she barely notices when he sinks into the grass with her, until the reedy blades tickle against the naked skin of her back when he pulls her shirt off. She smiles, stretches out against the sun that dances warmly over her skin, against his fingertips that slowly trace the long lines, the peaks and valleys of her shape, mapping paths of heat across every inch of her skin.
She lets the moment wrap around her, being with him, here and now, almost weightless, free in the privacy and serenity of his backyard.
Free with him.
