Kate Beckett opened the door to her apartment, dropped her file bag on the floor by the heat stove, and exhaled heavily.
She was home.
She tipped her head all the way back and shut her eyes, relishing in the quiet stillness that surrounded her. No phones rang. No cops paced between interrogation rooms and desks. No grief stricken family members came and went. Nobody smelled of sweat, cigarettes, and coffee. At least it was good coffee, she thought, thanks to Castle's espresso machine.
She slipped out of her coat, scarf, and gloves, and instead of depositing them in the closet, just tossed them in a heap on one of her living room chairs. She was too tired to care about the clutter.
It had been a rough week for all of her colleagues. The proximity of the murderous rampage in Connecticut that had taken 26 lives, 20 of them children, had hit the homicide division hard despite the fact that it wasn't their case. Even Captain Gates had struggled to hold back her emotions when she gave them all a pep talk the morning after the news broke.
Do your jobs…be thorough…follow the evidence…bury your feelings…find justice…
As she undressed, the words still rang in Beckett's head. And never mind that she wasn't a mom, but so did the images of 20 broken little bodies lying in pools of blood in the one place where their parents had thought they'd be safe. So did thoughts of the teachers who had given their lives to shield them from the flying bullets and of Castle's heartbroken look when the first case that greeted them after that pep talk involved the murder of a 5 year old girl, caught in the middle of a bitter custody battle.
It was an easy case, open and shut, as cops liked to say. But as she had ridden the subway home that night, it had followed her, no matter how hard she had tried to leave it at the 12th. Even though she had craved a night ensconced in Castle's arms with a glass of wine within reach, she could hardly argue when he had told her he was leaving as soon as a confession was signed to pay Alexis a surprise visit at her dorm. The love emanating from his eyes had warmed her. That and his promise to call her later.
Now free of her clothes and having secured her service weapon in its lock box in her bedroom, she wrapped herself in her favorite purple terrycloth bathrobe and padded back into the kitchen for a bottle of wine and a glass. She poured herself a generous amount and transferred the glass to the metal shelf that straddled the rim of her bathtub. She started the hot water running and began lighting the various vanilla scented candles and tea lights that were scattered around the room. Within a few minutes, she could switch off the harsh vanity lights and let the room dance and shimmer with golden light. Returning to her bedroom, she picked up Heat Wave from her bedside table. Though it wasn't her all-time favorite Richard Castle book, it did remind her of their first year working together: his annoying arrogance, his frustrating charm, and the sparks that had flown between them.
Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she flipped through the worn advance copy he had given her years before to what she had begun calling the infamous yet memorable page 105. As her eyes read about Nikki and Rook giving in to the passion that flowed between them, she could almost feel Castle's hands on her shoulders and his lips on her neck. As one part of her brain scolded her for such self-indulgence while a small town in Connecticut was suffering through such immense shock and sorrow, she quieted the subconscious voice. Reading over this scene, as she had so many times, typically when he was away on a publicity tour or locked in his loft office trying to meet a publishing deadline, brought him to her when she needed him in a way none of his other books had ever done. They had gotten her through the dark days of her mother's murder and her father's resultant alcoholism, but these words gave her hope that anything is possible, even a world-famous murder mystery writer falling in love with a dime-a-dozen homicide detective. Like the crude figure made of sticks which she kept in her desk, it gave her hope that better days were ahead.
She hummed in pleasure to herself as she felt the muscles between her legs throb when Nikki surprised Rook by twisting him as they fell to her bed. She had, after all, done the same thing to Castle just last week. She made a mental note to ask him how the crick in his back was healing.
Suddenly, she heard the rushing water slow and stop until it was merely a gentle drip. Her senses immediately went on high alert, her muscles tautened, and the haze left by the day flew out of her brain. She tossed the book aside and quietly pulled her backup hand gun out of her bedside table. Hugging the left side of the hallway, the same side on which her bathroom was located, she crept towards the door through which she could still discern the flickering candlelight. She heard a small splash and her heart rate jumped at the knowledge that someone had not only let themselves into her apartment, but was possibly soaking in her bathtub. What was the world coming to?
In her head, she counted down, just as she would before kicking in the door to a suspect's hideout, and upon reaching one, pivoted on her left foot, and pounced.
"Freeze!" She yelled, shooting her arms outward to aim her gun at the tub.
In the second that followed, hers weren't the only set of eyes that practically popped out of their sockets.
"Whoa! Kate, it's just me!" Castle pleaded, throwing his arms over his head in surrender.
"Holy crap, Castle!" She blurted out before remembering how to breathe. He relaxed as well, dropping his hands and settling backwards against the back of the tub. It was now that Beckett's brain registered that he was not only the weirdo who she had envisioned had invited himself into her bathroom, but that he was also naked in her tub full of steaming water.
"You know, you could have called or knocked, like a normal guy." She chastised and sat the gun down next to the sink on the vanity.
"Kate Beckett, by now you should have accumulated a long list of adjectives that describe me and it is my fervent hope that normal is not one of them." He looked at her earnestly and wiggled an eyebrow.
"Rest assured it is not, but after that stunt you just pulled, I may just add a few more." She teased.
"Such as?" His eyes darkened as he set his arm on the side of the tub and motioned for her to come closer. She grinned coyly, but didn't answer, and after a few seconds of torturing him by feigning deep in thought, she began sauntering slowly towards him.
"Allow me help you," he suggested. "Would you consider me surprising?"
She nodded.
"Amusing?"
"Most of the time," she shot back.
Needing to repair the insult to his ego, he upped the ante. "Ruggedly handsome?"
She reached the tub and took his outstretched hand. His thumb ran in lazy circles over her skin, just as he had once demonstrated to her in her living room in the presence of a dog. The aching in her thighs returned.
"Come to think of it, yeah," she said casually, continuing her mocking.
"Kate, you wound me!" He whined.
"And you think abnormally highly of yourself."
"And you love it."
He got her there. She did love this man and all his qualities, no matter how annoying or obnoxious or unpredictable. She let a grin slowly creep onto her face and develop into a smile. It was then that she realized this was exactly what she needed after a week filled with endless stories of unbearable tragedy and loss. Her eyes locked with Castle's and he pulled her knuckles to his lips where he placed a soft kiss. The sensation washed through her, lightening everything in her that an hour earlier had felt heavy.
He tugged on her hand, a silent invitation to join him in the bath, which her libido gladly accepted. She stood up and turned her back to him. She untied the belt of the robe and watched his face over her shoulder as it whisked to the floor, giving Castle a glorious view of her toned back and buttocks. She then slid back to the tub and lowered herself into the water.
"God this feels good," she hummed as she settled back against his chest. His arms came around her and he placed a light kiss in her hair.
"I thought you were dropping in on Alexis."
"I did and I found her long enough to have my fatherly moment. Unfortunately, it came in front of the library while she was leaving a study group with three friends. She was good with it, but I think she was just a teensy bit embarrassed."
Beckett giggled and the sound made Castle's heart leap.
"You know, I think that's the first time you've laughed all week," he observed.
She sighed and interlinked her fingers with his as he still held her against him. "I'm sorry. It's been a rough week. I hope all those families and the Newtown cops are ok. It's one of those cases that never leaves you."
Like your Mom's, he thought, but let the silence fill the room. "I know. And I know that you know. And I'm sorry too. I should have figured you'd be a little on edge, but I noticed how it's been wearing on you over the last few days. I was just trying to help you leave work at work."
She turned her head from the crook of his shoulder where it had been resting to face him. She then reached up to take his chin in her hand, let her elegant fingers play at the angles of his jaw.
"You've always made things easier for me, Castle. Easier and brighter. And don't be sorry, because this was just what I needed."
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose playfully then touched his forehead to hers.
"You know what I need right now?"
"What's that?" She whispered then gasped as his hand dipped between her legs.
