A/N: This is just a little something for December, inspired by the fact that I'll be in more than a few airports in the coming months and I'm hoping this isn't my fate. Hope you enjoy!
This is not at all how today was supposed to pan out.
It was supposed to be a fairly straight forward, routine trip. Go to the airport—where flashing her badge almost doesn't get them through security, and Castle almost buys a ticket just so they can get to the terminal—meet their prime suspect when he gets off of his plane, and take him back to the precinct before he can dart off into the night, disappear onto another flight or hide out in one of his many apparent flop houses. But the weather's taken a sudden turn and the flight that he's supposed to be on, that's supposed to be arriving right about now, has been grounded somewhere in Chicago until it clears up.
"Come on, Castle," she sighs, having just argued with the woman at the front desk for five minutes. It's not her fault that the plane's grounded, thus making Beckett's job harder, and she does feel bad about taking it out on the poor girl who's probably just as tired from the holiday rush. "We'll head back to the precinct, wait the storm out until his plane is set to fly again."
Running a heavy hand over her face, she lets her eyes fall closed for a few seconds before she forces herself to shake it off, accept that this isn't going to be as simple as it could have been. This isn't the first time something's not gone as planned, and it sure as hell won't be the last.
"Uh, Beckett," Castle's voice breaks her out of her thoughts, has her swiveling around to face him. "I don't think we're going anywhere."
Her forehead creases. "What?"
He turns his attention elsewhere, nodding towards the glass windows a ways ahead of them, and her gaze follows his, eyes widening as she watches the snow come down quickly, large, wet flakes colliding against the glass at every angle. The ground is completely covered and it looks to be picking up with each passing second, the fluffy white substance sticking to the roads instead of condensing upon impact as it had been doing earlier when they arrived.
"It's getting pretty bad out there," he points out, and she just purses her lips as if to say really? "I don't know if we want to chance it."
She stops just short of letting out a low groan. Do they want to chance it? She's not too sure about Castle, but she just wants to leave, get out of here and back to the precinct so they can wait for their suspect's plane to take off again. Realistically, should they chance it? No, probably not. The roads look awful, painted with both ice and fresh snow, and there doesn't seem to be a plow in sight yet—having many past experiences with northeast storms, she knows there probably won't be one for a while, either.
The cruiser isn't exactly known for its stability in the snow to begin with, and she doesn't even want to think about how little traction the tires would actually offer them on the roads right now.
Basically, they're stuck.
Her shoulders deflate. "You're right," she agrees, albeit reluctantly, and moves to step up next to him. "Or we could make a quick break for it and hope for the best?" His brows shoot up, eyes on her, and she lets out a small laugh. "Yeah, didn't think so."
"It won't be that bad," he tries to reason, a grin on his face.
"Really, Castle? Stuck in an airport a week before the holidays, which means it's prime time for chaos, and now we're no further on our case than we were this morning because the guy's grounded in Chicago. That's not bad?"
He grimaces when she puts it like that. "Okay, so it's not good," he amends, sighing as he casts another glance towards the winter wonderland building up outside. "But there's not much we can do about it now."
This sucks.
"I have to call the guys, let them know this isn't going to be as cut and dry as we'd hoped."
She moves away, stepping into a small alcove that's more secluded as she makes the call. The boys are, understandably, annoyed that they won't be getting their hands on the guy tonight, but promise they'll tell Montgomery that they're snowed in until further notice. She almost feels bad about leaving them with most of the paperwork for tonight—since she'd normally pick up a lot of it by staying late—but then she remembers that they owe her for a favor she'd done for them a week or so ago, and the guilt slowly begins to fade. They can handle the paperwork.
Besides, she's pretty sure being stuck in an airport is worse than being stuck with a few extra files.
Castle's fiddling with his phone when she sidles back over to him. "You let Alexis know?"
His head lifts. "Yeah," he says, waving his phone in his hand. "She's studying for her finals right now, so I don't even expect her to see the text for a while."
She nods, knowing by now that when Alexis is worrying herself with schoolwork she dives head first, doesn't come up until she's content with what she's gotten done. It's not like she knows the girl all that well, only really been around her the few times she's gone to the loft or when the teenager came to the precinct to help out, but she's garnered enough information through Castle.
"She'll be just fine."
"Yeah, she will," he says, his eyes trained on her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips in a look that's too soft. But then it's broken, his gaze moving just past her. "We should find a place to sit before they're all taken."
Taking a deep breath, she nods.
"Lead the way," she drawls, gesturing ahead of her with a wave of her hand.
"Castle, stop moving."
The movement stops for a few seconds, but then he shifts again. "I'm not exactly great at sitting still."
Beckett snorts. "You don't say," she deadpans.
They've managed to find a little area against a back wall on the other side of the terminal to claim as their own while they wait out this storm. It's near another narrow alcove, similar to the one she sought silence in to make her phone call before, and there are only a few others huddled nearby, a stark contrast to the main floor where the majority of passengers have decided to congregate.
There are a few teenagers with their arms crossed, looks of pure disgust on their faces at the inconvenience of being grounded here. She has to bite back the smirk that threatens to break when she thinks about how they remind her of herself; she had the same look on her face many a time when she was younger and had her flights delayed. The teenage angst is a true staple of crowded airports.
Directly to her left is a kid, probably around eleven, leaning against his father, and lining the wall past them is a larger hoard of adults with their bags pressed against their sides, legs either stretched out or curled to their chests. Castle, on the other hand, is sitting to her right, his head lolled back against the wall and his phone balanced on his kneecap.
Though their little corner is off to the side, she still has a nice vantage point of the rest of the terminal. She may not have any reason to be on alert right now—given that their current suspect is living it up in the Chicago airport much like they are here—but the cop instincts don't just switch off.
It'd be easier if they did.
It's exhausting, and she wishes she could just turn down the cop right now, give herself the opportunity to sit back and relax without constantly being on edge, without watching the people around her as if one of them is a hardened criminal lying in wait. Realistically, she hardly thinks that the toddler waddling a few feet away or the elderly man sitting in a chair towards the front are looking to pick pocket someone.
What she'd give to be blissfully ignorant, if only for a few minutes so she could recharge.
"How long has it been?" Castle asks, his voice just short of a whine.
Her eyes roll, but she looks down at her watch anyway. It's just before four. "An hour. It's been an hour."
"How long do you think it'll be until the storm lets up?"
Shrugging, she lets her shoulder drop against the wall. "Hopefully? Within the next few hours. Probably?" Her head follows her shoulder, rolling against the wall in lieu of an actual reply.
But he gets it.
He sighs. "It could be worse," he says finally.
Turning her head towards him, she gives him a look. "And how is that?"
"You could be alone."
There's a grin on his face and she can't help the tiny curve of her lips that comes out in response. "I don't know, Castle, if I were alone there wouldn't be a pair of feet jerking against my leg." His feet freeze in their spot and his mouth opens immediately. She recognizes that giddy look. "Don't," she warns.
"You're just too easy, Beckett."
It wasn't long ago when an arch of her brow and a glare would've had him spluttering, rushing to explain that he doesn't think she's easy. But he knows her too well now, knows her tells, and can distinguish—usually—the glares that mean he's actually in some sort of trouble from the thinly veiled, harmless glares.
Now is definitely one of those times.
The subtle twinkle in her eyes gives her away.
"I can't help it if you get off on putting words in my mouth," she quips in return, taking pleasure in the hitch of his breath.
She rolls her head back with a chuckle, breaking the gaze they've been holding.
On second thought, it might have been better if she was alone. Alone she wouldn't have to face the thoughts circling inside her head about how, despite the displeasure of being stuck in the airport to begin with, she doesn't actually mind having Castle as her blizzard buddy, when a year ago—hell, a few months ago even—she'd have been fuming, practically foaming at the mouth at the mere prospect of this very same situation.
He's oddly quiet and she's genuinely surprised when he doesn't return with another equally inappropriate comment. It's what they do; the banter, the teasing, the innuendos. His silence is concerning, but she doesn't twist to face him, doesn't have to see the look on his face to know that he likely looks like a deer in the headlights.
"Attention all," a voice over the loudspeaker booms, saving her from having to break the silence. "As most of you have already guessed, given the current weather outside and subsequent predictions for a full on blizzard, all flights have been delayed until further notice. Many of the roads have yet to be plowed, so it is best if you all stay put." There's a collective symphony of groans from everyone in the room. "While we can hope it clears quickly, it seems as though you'll all be here for the night. Please act accordingly, and enjoy your evening."
Enjoy your evening. Yeah, sure.
"Looks like we'll be stuck here a bit longer than we thought," Castle chimes in as he stretches his legs out, the fabric of his jeans rustling against hers.
It's going to be a long night.