A/N: This is a "what if" scenario following the S2 finale. It requires just a minor adjustment of fact: that she broke things off with Tom Demming before trying to speak to Castle. Let's pretend things didn't happen in that order.
Setup: What if Kate had gone ahead with her initial plan to go the Hamptons with Demming after she watched Castle leave for the Hamptons with Gina? How might that scenario play out?
Waves wash the beach with a slow, restful rhythm that makes it seem as if the earth is breathing. In and out they lap, breaking on the sand with a quiet hiss, and in between a tranquil lull, a hushed pause that is Mother Nature's breathing space.
Despite this restful calm, inside Kate's head there is nothing but a continuous riot of sound, questions full of self-recrimination.
"What was I thinking? What was I thinking? What was I thinking?" echoes on repeat in time with the beat of her heart.
Kate carries her sandals as she walks, their slender leather straps dangling from her fingertips while her bare toes sink into the damp sand. Moonlight strobes the glossy black surface of the Atlantic with zebra stripes that remain in perpetual motion, their dancing light helping to illuminate her nocturnal passage along the shoreline. The night is warm and the moisture infused air curls the loose tendrils of hair that frame her forehead and form the short ponytail at her nape. Her white cotton sundress brushes her thighs as she moves, the fabric further softened and weighted by the high humidity.
And yet, despite this ocean-side tranquility, Kate pinches the bridge of her nose and frowns, trying to alleviate the tension that took root in her brain the second Castle departed the precinct on the arm of his second ex-wife, Gina; a tension that has yet to leave. That was two days ago. Wracked with guilt and regret, and with her vacation days already signed-off, she had reverted to her original plan: to head out to the Hamptons herself, to a tiny rental cottage in the grounds of a far larger compound on the edge of East Hampton. With Tom Demming.
"What was I thinking? What was I thinking? What was I thinking?" she chants to herself.
Movement in the dark startles her out of her circular thoughts, putting her on high alert. The creak of a gate on salt-encrusted hinges somewhere up to her left, and then a silhouette picked out by security lights, the shift of sand and the faint glow of a cell phone screen illuminating a downcast face.
"Castle?" Her disbelief rings out clear as a bell in the stillness of the Long Island night. She hears its discordant note and winces. But she'd know his outline anywhere. His appearance in front of her now is stranger than fiction, as though the writer has been conjured by the strength of her longing, alone. This unsettling thought sends a shiver through her despite the lingering heat of the day.
"Beckett?" comes the answering call, and what else could it be? The writer peers towards the tideline after he emerges from a white wooden gate at the edge of the beach grass feet above her, the gate set high amid the dunes where serious money buys peace of mind and the best of views.
His long strides across the berm towards the shore throw up sand with every step, white as puffs of powdered sugar sifted by the moon's milky glow.
"Wha—"
He stammers once he visually confirms that it is her, and goes no further until he looks down at the chunky watch face on the tan of his arm to check the time. "It's after eleven. What are you…?" He glances around. "Are you out here alone?"
She's staring at him. She knows she is, but she can't help herself. She's been quiet, moody, unfair to the robbery detective since they got in her car to drive out here Friday night, stuck in endless traffic that made the journey twice as long as it should have been. The whole fiasco utter torture from day one.
"Beckett?"
She realizes, when he says her name for a second time, that she hasn't said anything yet, hasn't answered his question…and did he ask her a question?
"I'm sorry. Did you say something? I…I…" She frowns and shakes her head from side to side, small movements meant to denote confusion, an excuse for her odd behavior. She is confused, confused and so many other things she can't yet name. Seeing him here is…confusing, but somehow right, too. She feels more settled than she has in days and that in itself is strange.
Castle reaches for her arm but stops short of actually touching her. He's being careful, too careful for reasons she doesn't quite understand. "Are you okay? You seem…lost or confused. Are you here by yourself? I thought…Demming…?"
He looks up and down the foreshore, but there is no other being evident for as far as the eye can see, which in truth is not very far before the darkness swallows up the visibility around them.
"I wanted some air. Space. Time to myself."
She knows she sounds embarrassed expressing this need she had for breathing space when she's supposed to be on a romantic weekend getaway with her new guy, and she's being far more frank with him than she'd normally be, but she can't find the energy to mask her feelings anymore. Putting on a front for Tom has stripped the last of her resolve and Castle is…well, he's her friend, almost family, and so she shouldn't have to pretend. Not in front of him. Should she?
"When did you get here?" he asks more kindly. Maybe starting with an easy question to help draw her out?
"Friday night."
He nods. "Same."
"Traffic was a bitch."
"We took the Jet Ranger…" Castle blurts this piece of information, the boastful pride of old emerging from somewhere deep inside his DNA before he catches himself and shuts up. He watches with a sinking heart when her eyes widen and her lips press together in disapproval.
"You took a helicopter?"
He rubs his neck and looks down at the sand. "Uh, yeah. People do. Round here. Some people. Gina, she…she charged it to Black Pawn," he mutters uncomfortably, trying to retract his gauche, playboy-style confession. But it's already too late: he's pushed all of her buttons.
"Nice perk." She cracks the "k" like bubble gum.
"Actually, not so nice. Gina threw up before we could land. Ruined my shoes. Things went downhill from there."
Kate folds her arms tightly across her chest and Castle cannot help but stare. "Downhill? Seems like a pretty minor glitch. It's not like you can't afford another pair of loafers, Castle."
He drags his gaze upwards to her face before she catches him gawping at her perfect breasts. Her white dress is flimsy, soft, he wants to reach out and touch it. The spaghetti straps offer little support, not that she needs much. It's elegant, loose, a little boho and very, very Kate. Gina would not be seen dead in something so...unstructured. He decides he loves the dress even more after that.
She's staring at him now so he coughs to cover his tracks. "Downhill had nothing to do with the shoes."
Her eyebrows rocket skyward at the flatness of his tone and this hint of trouble on his romantic horizon. "Oh? Then…what?" she presses, in a manner that is unlike her unless she's working a case, searching for answers that will mean some kind of a life after death for a blameless victim.
He dodges the question, like he learned it from her. "Beckett, what are you doing out here in the dark? Where is Tom?" After a pause he levels her with his blue-eyed stare, a look she can't resist, and asks, "Were you looking for me?"
Like an ice cube dropped onto bare skin, she has a shocking, knee jerk urge to slap him for this last question, but she welds her arms to her sides instead and takes a deep breath before she answers. "You think I left my boyfriend in bed, asleep, to walk the beach at night on the off chance I'd bump into you? God, I'd forgotten just how arrogant and self-absorbed you can be."
She fumes while Castle simply nods his head, and something's off about that.
"Yeah, that's me alright," he replies with such dejection and self-hatred that it pricks something inside of her.
Kate is embarrassed by her own sketchy motives in persisting with her plan to come out here. She was disgusted with herself for her cowardice in not managing to tell Castle exactly how she felt: that she'd decided to accept his invitation, to give them a chance to figure out what might or might not be developing between them. But this acquiescence of his - agreeing with her critique of his character - nudges at her curiosity, making her want to push beyond her own discomfort and do what Castle has been doing for years: hunt down the story.
She takes a deep breath. "Okay, you're clearly not yourself. How about I tell you mine if you tell me yours?" she suggests, going for broke because what the hell. How much worse can this weekend get?
"I thought I was too self-absorbed for your tastes?" he throws back at her, clearly tempted by her offer but still sulking.
"I'm giving you a pass, Castle. Don't make me regret it. What's going on with you? Where's Gina, the perfect grown-up?"
They walk the shore together and they talk. At points the sand turns soft and viscous and Kate's feet sink deeper, sliding at unpredictable angles into the saturated ground and throwing her into Castle's path where they bump arms and shoulders and she apologizes while welcoming the feel of his steadying hands on her elbow and waist to right her.
Their halting confessions are like bookends of the same story and slowly that story inches towards the crux of the matter. Their brains arrive at the end point before their words allow them to be carried there. They tell the truth, but they take their time, as is their way.
"We've barely stopped fighting. And I have zero idea why I thought this could work. Me and her, after all this time? She reads me the riot act when I'm late with a chapter. You want to hear her in bed when—"
Castle glances at his partner, suddenly struck by his own thoughtless words. "Or maybe not," he mutters off a determined shake of Kate's head.
"I've been on a doomed mission since I left the precinct…no…actually, no, that's not quite true," she corrects herself in a stream of consciousness Castle has never quite witnessed from Kate Beckett before.
"What's not true? Since you left the precinct part or the doomed mission?"
"Oh, doomed mission it is alright. But it was doomed the second you left the precinct." Maybe too much information, she thinks, but by then it's already too late. She's said it.
Her honesty is unsettling. Castle wonders for a second if she's been drinking, but there are no obvious signs that that's the case. She seems clear-headed, cogent, no word slurring and steady on her feet except when the ground softens unexpectedly beneath them.
"Me? Why me?" he asks, desperate to keep her talking. "What did I do?" He throws in a whine at the end to try and soften her up. It doesn't work.
She gives him a sharp look that might be fear or anger, maybe both. "Are you going to make me explain this? Word for word? Do you need me to draw pictures, is that it?"
Eventually, she looks more pleading than angry, but he needs more to go on before he can corroborate the hints he hopes she might be doling out to put together an actual case for why they're both out here alone in the middle of the night when their supposed "other halves" are tucked up in bed.
"Well…yeah. I left my Spidey sense back in Gotham, Beckett."
Kate rolls her eyes, but then she half shrugs. At least his humor still gets to her. "You remember when we left the party because I wanted to talk to you?"
"Yeah, the guys were watching us through the windows. Actually, you never did tell me what you wanted to talk abou—"
Castle stops suddenly and his feet are instantly swallowed up by the wet sand. He starts to sink when another wave washes over him and he loses an inch or two in height.
"Please tell me I'm wrong?" he says quietly, reaching out and touching her forearm this time.
"Depends what you think you're wrong about."
"Kate," he gets out, his tone beseeching and layered with a warning not to mess around anymore.
She drops her head, chin to chest, and then takes a deep breath, inflating her lungs and straightening up to face him. She nods as she releases the breath. "You're not wrong. I was going to tell you I'd decided to accept your invitation to come out here for the weekend."
Castle groans, loud and painful. "And then…"
She shrugs again. "Gina showed up. What could I do?"
He closes his eyes. "My God." Then he stares at her, thoughts clicking into place. "What about Demming?"
"I was going to call it off."
"Well, lucky for you you got your priorities straight. Secure a weekend with me and then cancel your plans? Smart girl. Always prepared. Just like that backup gun you carry, right?"
His anger is surprising. His sarcasm hits her like a slap, and under the circumstances it seems unfair. He made a backup plan too, replaced her just as easily.
"It wasn't like that and nothing about this is lucky, okay. It sucks. All of it. Why would you even ask me and then invite Gina?" And now she's the one who's whining. It's pathetic. High school grade pathetic.
"You turned me down, Beckett. More than once. And I'm weak, pitiful, easily bored. You know that. I don't like to be alone for long. I need people around me. And I didn't enjoy the rejection either. So I asked her." He has a list of reasons, but none of them sound good to either of them anymore.
Her shoulders stiffen as she relives that humiliating moment at the precinct. She remembers the sympathetic looks of her friends through the blinds as she stood alone in the hallway while Castle walked off into the sunset with his second ex-wife on his arm. She turns to leave now. Being honest was a mistake. She looks like a fool and she's clearly interchangeable. She is any woman to him. A bed-warmer. A plaything. An audience. And that's not what she thought this was, that's not what she's spent the last couple of days pining over. The disappointment is crushing.
"I should get back," she says quietly, not caring whether he hears her or not.
"Doesn't mean I didn't wish she was you."
Castle's words cut loud and clear through the stillness of the East Hampton night. Kate stops after a couple of steps and pivots, the wet sand gritty beneath the balls of her feet.
"What did you say?"
"I said, inviting Gina out here…didn't stop me wishing I was here with you."
Kate looks more appalled than grateful, and Castle mentally kicks himself. Can he never get anything right with this woman?
"You're that base?"
Her hands are on her hips and her white sundress is tangled around her legs, the close-to-sheer fabric showing off more of her body than she probably realizes. He doesn't think he's ever seen her look so fiercely beautiful, and his heart pines with that knowledge. But he's hurting too.
"And you're not?" he challenges. "How're things going with Demming then? Since he was your backup plan."
"Don't." Her hands fist by her sides.
"Come on, Beckett. We said we'd share our stories. It was all your idea. I told you mine. Turnabout's fair play," he taunts.
Kate glares at him, her eyes glinting hard amid her pale, make-up free face. Castle, feeling reckless and sensing he'll get nothing more out of Kate for the time being, decides to maintain his honest streak for the sheer hell of it.
"Okay, not ready to share. Fine. Well, here's an interesting factoid for you. Might have mumbled your name between the sheets a couple of times and got away with it. So, yes, turns out I really am that base. However, seems Gina has this three strikes rule I wasn't apprised of. Why do you think I'm out here by myself in the dead of night? Come to that, why're you not tucked up with your robbery squad boyfriend?"
"He's not my boyfriend."
Castle's eyebrows shoot up. "Interesting. He was a minute ago. Tell me, is he aware of this new development?"
Kate sighs and turns to walk some more. Her sandals bounce off her thigh. The writer falls in step beside her and he's surprised when she doesn't object. "Why do we make this so hard on ourselves?" she wonders aloud, calm once more but clearly troubled.
"Make what so—"
"Castle, cut the bullshit. You know what I'm saying," she snaps.
He scrubs a hand over his face. Kate hears his stubble rasp beneath his fingers and she shivers, awash with an unexpected wave of desire despite the misery and recriminations.
"I'm sorry. You're right. I should stop playing games," he sighs, sobering instantly.
"Thank you."
He stoops to pick up a large shell and then he hurls it into the ocean. They hear the splash a few seconds later. The guy has an arm and a half.
Eventually, he clears his throat. "Gina's flying back to Manhattan in the morning."
"My leave is up come sunrise on Tuesday."
Castle nods, thoughtfully. "Heading back to the city?"
"Yeah. I'm on shift, so…"
Regret hangs heavy in the air between them.
"We really messed this up."
"We're getting kind of good at that," Kate points out.
"Let's not. Get good at messing up, I mean."
"What are you saying?" She looks at him tentatively, needing to see his face.
"I…I guess I'm saying that I need to see Gina off…apologize. Not that she'll listen. But after that…I'm free. What are your plans?"
"I don't think Tom will need much of an explanation. I haven't exactly shared much of myself this weekend. Regardless of…" she gestures towards him, "this, I had planned on ending things before we drove back to the city anyway. To be clear."
"So…"
"So, I'll be free too, I guess."
They look at one another in the dark with the soft sound of waves lapping at their ankles and they nod, complicit in something or the start of something at least, and then they turn as one for home.
"Guess we should get back."
"Yeah," he agrees with some reluctance.
"Before they send out a search party and find us here on the—"
The kiss catches her unaware and it steals her breath away. His fingers press hard into the flesh of her hips as he holds her to him and gently works his mouth over hers. Her nipples crest hard, pressing through the thin cotton of her dress and the sensitive brush against the fabric of his shirt causes her to moan aloud and physically shudder. Neither the wind nor the demanding caress of his tongue carries the sound away. It lingers between them, a confession and a promise.
The kiss is over almost as soon as it started, leaving her chest heaving and her face the color of flame. Castle simply smiles, nods and turns them back on their way. She can feel the firm grip of his fingers like a phantom against her skin and she aches for more. But despite their many flaws, they are, at their core, good, loyal people, so nothing more will happen tonight. As they retrace their steps along the beach they encounter their own footprints, wet shapes half-dissolved by the tide. But this night and this fateful walk have remodeled them too. A different future lies ahead if they follow the path they have set themselves on, seek honesty and keep moving together and they will get there.
Near the point where Castle will peel off up the beach to his own splendid compound, their footsteps slow, both eager to eke out this time alone. While still shrouded in the dark, Castle reaches out to tangle his fingers with his partner's and she lets him reel her to him. This time there is no kiss, just his hands on her bare shoulders and his gaze heavy on her face.
"Next weekend…can you talk to Roy?" There is so much hope in his voice it almost breaks her. All the opportunities they've missed come flooding to the surface at once.
"You mean…?" She seems hesitant, and he can't tell if it's a reluctance to come out here again, next time with him, or a fear that she's reading him wrong.
"I mean can you get more time off so that we can spend an actual weekend out here together, Kate. Just you and me and—"
She cuts him off with the fiercest of hugs, her warm face buried in his neck. The embrace startles him more than any kiss could, the full-body contact more of a rush than he would ever have imagined. He hugs her back and when they mold their bodies together the alignment feels utterly perfect, and they allow nature carry the needful sounds they make away on the breeze like so many whispered secrets.
"I'll ask," she promises against his skin, making him shiver when she flicks out her tongue to taste the salty air on his neck.
Castle rubs his cheek against hers, nuzzling his nose into her hair, absorbing her scent and the wonderful feel of her in his arms because he knows he'll have to let her go too soon. "Any problems and I'm calling the Mayor," he threatens, welcoming the giggle she emits at the ridiculousness of this suggestion.
"I'm sure I can get the weekend off if I explain it's for such a good cause," she teases, pulling back and letting her eyes glitter over his.
"Teambuilding," Castle grins.
"Essential part of policing. Learning to trust your partner, getting to know his moves like the back of your own hand." She winks as she says this, her press-lipped smile and the stroke of her long fingers up and down his back hinting at pleasures to come.
Castle drops his forehead against hers and with his eyes wide open he whispers, "Stop teasing. You're making me hard."
Kate's eyes widen and she grins a feral grin that sends sparks of excitement shooting out across Castle's skin. "We're going to be awesome," he tells her.
"Of that I have no doubt."
By some mutual unspoken agreement they let their arms drop from around one another and take a step back.
"I should go," Kate admits with great reluctance, thumbing towards a location further down the beach.
"You want me to walk you?"
"Yes," she grins. "But no. Best not."
Castle nods in understanding, though he still has a hard time letting her go. "Call me when you…whenever you can?"
Kate smiles softly. "I'll call as soon as I get home. And…" She takes a deep breath and smiles giddily. "I'll see you in less than a week. Back here."
"Bring that dress," he says, gesturing to the floaty, white slip.
She looks down, holding the fabric out from her side, amused by his request. "This? Sure, if you insist."
"I do. It looks great on you, Kate."
She blushes with pleasure, her stomach in knots, arousal making her whole body throb.
"Want me to send the Jet Ranger?" he winks.
Kate laughs out loud. "And charge it to Black Pawn? No, I think I'll be good to drive, thanks."
They grin at one another like idiots, out there on the empty beach in the middle of the night.
"One for the road?" Castle says, and when Kate gives him her best quizzical look he moves forward at speed and hugs her to him once more.
Her body relaxes into an "ah, that," sigh of relief, and she lets herself be surrounded by his large, masculine frame, savoring every second of this new closeness.
"I don't want to go," she admits in a whisper that is soaked up by his shirt.
"I don't want you to go either."
"But I have to," she tells herself mostly, giving his back a final squeeze and then standing up straight. "We just have to do this one last thing and then we're both free to see where things go."
"I know where I'd like them to go," he blurts, always the more forthcoming of the two.
"Yeah," she smiles, a little shy this time. "I can imagine," as her eyebrows dance.
"Not that. Well, not only that. You have a filthy mind, Kate Beckett," he laughs, poking her in the shoulder until she stumbles backwards.
"And you love it."
Love it, he does. And now that the word is out there and the confessions have begun, he lets himself open to the secret he'd been holding at bay. He thinks he might already be in love with her, though the idea still terrifies him. But standing here looking at her tonight, how could he not? She gets him, idiot that he is. She's the best friend he never had and she wants him too. Does it get any better than that?
"Yeah, I love it alright," he admits, knowing this will make her blush. He isn't disappointed.
His heart sinks when she begins to back away, though his brain understands that for them to move forward with their lives, back away she must for now.
"I'll call. I promise," she sings to him, her face, heart and body full with it all.
"Holding you to that, partner," he yells so she can still hear at twenty, thirty paces down the beach.
The darkness swallows her up while he stands by his white gate watching. As he turns to enter his property he thinks he sees a gauzy curtain twitch on the upper floor, but then all is still again and he tells himself it's just the breeze.
Demming's sitting on the unlit porch when she rounds the corner in her bare feet, a smile on her face and her sandals still dangling from her fingertips.
"Kate. We need to talk." His voice is gruff, his tone more than sufficient warning that he knows where she's been tonight and so there's no point in lying.
"Yes, we do," she agrees, the sinking feeling of being found out quickly replaced by the balm of relief that this charade is almost over and they can both move on with their lives.
"I never stood a chance with him around," Tom states flatly.
"I'm sorry," is all she can offer because she knows that what he says it true and if he deserves anything from her at this point it is the truth.
"Do you love him?"
"What?" she squawks in disbelief, because this question truly throws her.
"You heard."
"I…he's my partner. He's my friend."
"And you're in love with him, Kate. At least be honest with yourself if you're going to hurt other people to be with him."
She lets this news – and it really is news – sink in. "I'm sorry," she repeats again, heading for the door of the cottage. "Look, I'm tired. Can we do this in the morning?"
"No need. We already did it. I'll take the couch. You take the bed. I'll catch the Jitney back to the city tomorrow."
"No. No, I'll drive. I have work to head back for anyway."
"You're not staying out here with him?" He seems genuinely surprised.
She shakes her head.
"Why not?"
"I told you. I have work."
"And then…what happens now?"
"You're really so invested in my love life?"
"He won, Kate. I'd hate to see that victory go to waste."
"Okay. I'm going to try and come out next weekend. But it's complicated…and new. Nothing's happened yet," she assures him, though that seems beside the point now. "I don't want to screw this up. We work so well together. I don't want to lose that."
"You won't. Be honest with him and you won't. But, Kate, for God's sake, don't let this chance go to waste."
"I thought you hated him? Why are you encouraging this all of a sudden?"
"Because I know when I'm beat. But I'll feel like less of a sore loser if something good can come out of this. Call me a sucker for a happy ending, whatever. But there it is. I want to see you happy for once. You're a good person, Kate. And if Richard Castle can make you happy, who am I to stand in your way?"
"You're a good guy, too, Tom Demming. I hope you find what you're looking for. I'm sorry I messed you around."
"I don't think you meant to. Some things are just fated, you know," he shrugs.
Kate finds herself laughing, a laugh full of relief. "Now you're starting to sound like Castle."
"Okay, on that note, I'm going to bed. This is too confusing at one in the morning. Night, Kate. Sleep well."
Captain Montgomery is surprised to get a call from his lead detective on Memorial Day, her vacation not yet over when she asks him for another five days leave beginning the following weekend. She blushes furiously when he lets out a whoop of excitement on the other end of the line when she explains why she needs the extra days.
"Finally!" he crows, clapping his hands together. "You more than earned the time off, Beckett. Both of you. Go have fun with my blessing. After I see you work out the week in the precinct from tomorrow."
Her "Yes, Sir," is met by another yell of delight, this time aimed at Montgomery's wife, Evelyn. Kate is still blushing and smiling when she ends the call to give Castle the good news.
"Hey," she grins, her voice breathy with all she suddenly wants to say to him.
"Hey, yourself," she hears Castle smiling back at her. "How was your day? Did you miss me?"
"How was yours?" she asks, her heart thudding rapidly.
"Ah, so we're back to playing games," he teases, and though his taunt is without malice, Kate knows that he is right.
"Yes, I missed you. Okay?" she admits, blushing like a schoolgirl.
"Might have missed you more," Castle counters, earning himself a happy sigh. "How'd it go with Demming? Any issues I need to be aware of? Should I call my lawyer, tell him to expect one of his robbery buddies to frame me for grand larceny?"
Kate half-smiles, her voice more solemn. "He was really decent about things, actually. Like I said, he didn't need much of an explanation. He was waiting up for me when I got back. We said everything we had to say and then he slept on the couch. Drive back was…quiet. No big drama. I think he actually wishes us well."
"I always knew I liked that guy," Castle jokes, earning another laugh from Kate.
"How about your end? Gina in a forgiving mood?"
"Eh…not so much. She—"
Kate listens to the long, loaded sigh on the other end of the phone. "She what, Castle? Tell me."
"She saw us on the beach last night."
"Oh, God," Kate groans, covering her eyes with her hand. "Kissing?"
"No. She just…she saw us hug goodbye. But that was enough. She assumed I'd been cheating…all the times I disappeared on my own over the weekend she thought…"
"That you'd been with me?"
"I messed up big time, Kate."
"I'm sorry. I hope you told her she was wrong, that nothing happened."
"I don't have much of a leg to stand on. I was distant from the second we arrived and then that fiasco with the whole name thing. The entire weekend was a terrible idea."
"Look…she'll get over it. In time."
"And in the meantime, she's moved the deadline up on the next three chapters of my book. It's make Rick's life hell all over again. She did the same thing after the divorce."
"Crap."
"I had planned to come back to the city tonight. I wanted to see you."
"That's really sweet. But I have some news."
"Please tell me it's good news?"
"I got Montgomery to sign off on five vacation days starting next Monday. If I come out on Saturday, we can have a week to ourselves. But only if you have time?" she tacks on, crossing her fingers that he says yes.
"For you, I will make time. Gina can yell and stamp her feet all she likes. We are having fun for a change. Oh, this is so exciting!"
Kate's face aches from smiling. "Really? So you're okay with that? A week isn't too long?"
"Beckett, after a week living with me I promise you will not want to leave," he tells her in a husky voice.
"Pretty sure of yourself, Castle."
"No, but I think I'm finally sure of us."
Kate doesn't know what to say to that.
"Hey, you still there?"
"I'm here," she says.
"Am I scaring you? Is it too soon to be saying stuff like that?"
"I am scared but not…"
"Tell me. What are you scared of, Kate?"
"Losing you. Losing what we already have."
"Then you have nothing to be scared of. I'm going nowhere."
"What if we—"
"We won't. Don't even consider it. We're going to be great."
"You're certain?"
"Absolutely. Now, are you sure I can't send a helicopter to pick you up, get you here even faster?"
Kate laughs a watery laugh. "I'm sure."
"I need to see you."
"And you will. Four days writing and I'll be there before you know it."
"Will you leave early on Saturday morning?"
"Crack of dawn."
"Okay then. I think I've got some writing to do."
She can hear his joy and his smile from over a hundred miles away and it makes her smile too.
"Goodnight, Castle."
"Goodnight, Kate."
"I'll call you tomorrow."
"Look forward to it."
In the event, Kate leaves her apartment around nine on Friday night, after the worst of the weekend traffic has left the city. Castle calls when she's in the car and she tells him she's in the basement of her apartment building doing laundry to explain away the hum of road noise surrounding her.
She calls him back just as she turns onto the country lane that leads down to his driveway. Her headlights bounce across the sandy track and she hums to herself while she waits for the call to connect.
"Hey, sexy. To what do I owe this pleasure twice in one evening?" he leers down the phone.
"Come outside and you'll find out," she teases in return, listening for his reaction on her cell.
Eventually, light spills down the front steps of his Hampton's mansion and then Kate spots him running down the driveway towards the automatic gates, a lone silhouette emerging from the darkness. She hangs up her phone when she hears him squeal and throws it onto the passenger seat before exiting the car to wait for him. The gates swing inward excruciatingly slowly, but finally he runs towards her with the happiest smile on his face. When he reaches her he literally sweeps her off her feet, scooping her up and turning her round and round until they both get dizzy.
"I can't believe you're finally here," he says breathlessly, letting her slide down his hard body to land on her feet.
"Surprise!" she sings, looking him over. It's been less than a week since she saw him, but in a strange way it feels like they've spent months apart. She holds onto his hand, never any thought of letting go.
"Come inside?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
They can't stop smiling at one another.
"How was your week?"
"Slow. Yours?"
"I lived for your phone calls."
"But you wrote a lot too? I mean, Gina's not going to show up in her helicopter and cancel our week together because you goofed around and missed her deadline?"
"Relax, Detective. Work's all squared away. Word count exceeded. You know you're quite the inspiration even on the end of a phone," he tells her saucily. They got to know one another rather well on those late night phone calls, falling asleep afterwards with the line still connected on more than one occasion.
"Hm, I wonder how well that'll work in person?" Kate asks, giving his hand a squeeze.
"We have an entire week to find out. Want to get started?" he smirks.
"Park my car, grab my bags, I'll see you out by the pool."
Castle watches, amazed and amused, as Kate sprints through the main gates and then heads off through a side door that leads to the back of the house and the pool deck. Once he's done as Kate asks – well, he dumps her bags in the hallway and her Charger may have remained unlocked overnight – he sprints through the house and out to the pool himself.
What greets him is a sight beyond belief – Kate is floating on her back in the middle of in his sizeable, heated, illuminated swimming pool.
And she's naked!
"Care to join me or are you just going to stand and stare?"
"Can I do both?"
Kate's laughter rings out in the warm evening air and her grin grows larger as she watches her partner begin tearing off his clothes, throwing garments left and right, hopping on one leg until every last stitch is gone.
"Impressive," she tells him, admiring his physique now that he's bared himself to her for the first time. "Now get in here before I get lonely."
"Yes, ma'am," he agrees, snapping a ridiculous salute, and that's not the only thing rising to attention when he executes a perfect, splash-free dive into the deep end of the pool.
When he surfaces, he's a couple of feet away from her. He sweeps his head to one side, showering the surface of the pool with water droplets from his hair and then he sculls on the spot, moving no nearer and no farther away.
"Hey, you okay?" Kate asks, swimming up to him.
"Never better."
"Good. So how about that kiss you've been promising me all week long?"
Without hesitation, he reaches for her and she gets more than she bargained for, a whole lot more than a promised kiss.
Later, they lie awake in his bed, the windows open, toile curtains billowing in the warm breeze, and Castle turns to her, tracing her naked side with the tip of his finger.
"What?" Kate smiles lazily, watching him through sleepy eyes.
"I was wrong when I said you wouldn't want to leave me last week."
Kate frowns. "How so?"
"It's me who doesn't want to leave you."
"Castle, I've only been here a couple of hours. How can you know that already?" She pokes his calf with her bare foot.
"I think I've always known…somewhere deep down. Is that crazy?"
"No," she admits, reaching out to cup his jaw. "I can feel it too."
"Still scared?"
"Terrified. Does that count?"
Castle laughs. "Me too."
"Yeah?"
"Mm," he nods. "But in a good way."
Kate frowns. "There's a good way to be terrified?"
"Yeah. Like on a roller coaster, when you're right at the top before they let you go," he explains. "This feels like that."
Kate chews her lip for a second and then she inches closer to him across the big, silky bed. "In that case, Mr. Castle, care to let me ride your big dipper again?"
They laugh for what seems like half an hour, exhausting themselves like children, sobering right before their laughter turns to tears, and then they fall asleep in each others arms, waking hours later only when the sunlight burns its laser-like beams across the bedroom floor.
Memorial Day weekend may have been an unmitigated disaster, but by Labor Day they are inseparable, as Castle predicted. Over time they learn to ride life's ups and downs like it's Coney Island on a hot July afternoon – together, holding hands, for the ups and the downs, for the fun and laughter and love of the thrill. And they never look back.
Thank you for reading.