Can't Walk Away

Chapter one

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Cops and Robbers AU, and my entry in to the NaNoWriMo (there should be two updates a week). Thank you to Jo and Nic for the edits xoxo

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We kissed, I fell under your spell

A love no one could deny

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Her hand flies to her mouth as a giggle of delight escapes, and she pushes against her lips with extra force, wanting to conceal the noise. Her eyes close in embarrassment at the thought of being caught laughing at the production that is unravelling before her, and she hopes that neither Castle nor Martha were able to hear it.

Luck is not on Kate's side though, and she feels his knee gently knock into hers with just enough pressure to let her know that she was unsuccessful. That she was heard. Turning to take in the man beside her, her eyes open to the sight of him attempting to suppress his own mirth. Apparently, she is not the only one who finds this situation hilarious.

The elation of sitting here, next to each other after all that they have survived bank robbers, explosions, more close calls- shimmers between them; as if flecks of glitter dance enhancing the happiness in the air, and this time she allows the sound of joy to tumble from her.

She is blaming the glass of red in her hand. Or it may be a result of Martha, who is standing in front of them, re-enacting her brave stand opposite Trapper John, and the way she is embellishing the story of how she had placed her own life on the line when her son had been threatened at gunpoint. Either way, there is a lightness that is breaking free of the normally contained arrangement that they live by; a jubilation that comes with being here, next to him after the day they've had, and she doesn't want to lose this feeling. Ever.

She came so close to losing him today.

The thought causes her lashes to shut against her skin, again, and she wishes that it were just as easy to stop the loop that is playing on repeat in her mind. The way the command center had rocked on its wheels, the turmoil crashing over her as the bomb had exploded, and Kate is grateful when Martha's voice cuts through her unwanted reflection, forcing her eyes to open wide.

"And on that note, dears, it is past time for me to retire." The red head sweeps her hands in front of her, waving farewell to her captive audience, before bowing slightly, and Kate finds herself standing in order to embrace the older woman. The pressure expelled from Martha's brightly colored arms is intense, and she is held fast. While ordinarily Kate would have found such a maneuver stifling, today she returns the hug; is thankful that they are having this moment.

Moving away in order for them to detach, Kate's taken by surprise when hands weathered with time cradle her face. Keeping her steady they pause, both quietly contemplating each other, and Kate is struck by the power contained in Martha's look.

"Thank you, darling girl, for everything today. For in these instances, one is truly grateful for all who adorn her life." Her statement leaves them smiling, before Kate is released with a force that has her stumbling in the direction of the couch. Righting herself, she shuffles back, watches Castle being treated to the same outpouring of affection, and Kate is reminded once more how truly tight knit a family they are. She will always be grateful for the wonderful people that have made their way into her life.

People she came so close to losing.

Swirling her wine, Kate lifts it to her lips, enjoys the smooth sensation of it gliding effortlessly down her throat. Lost in the feeling that encases her, the pleasure that comes with relaxing, she is only vaguely aware of Martha's exit up the stairs, but as she comes back to the present, she discovers Castle standing nearby, scrutinizing her movements.

"Yes?"

His lips part, teeth flashing in amusement over her mock tone of indignation, and he appears to be experiencing a moment of boldness; standing tall he chuckles softly, before asking, "Are you enjoying that red?"

The loose strands around her face dance lightly across her skin as she nods in agreement. Whatever this bottle is, it is doing scary things to her sense of decorum, is kicking down the bricks of her carefully constructed wall and Kate finds herself eyeing the liquid as if it may burst into flames while in her hand. Or maybe it is she who is about to burst into flames.

"It is a nice glass, Beckett, you have good taste. It's an exquisite bottle that I-"

Bringing up her hand, she places a finger across his full lips, silences his ramblings mid-sentence. Their position is too close, too dangerous especially given all that has happened, and Kate forces herself backward, trying to burst the bubble that was encompassing them.

She is not ready, not fixed. Not whole. But the nagging voice in the back of her mind is insistent, whispering its deadly thoughts; that while she is slowly getting there, there is no guarantee that they will both live long enough to see her wall fall.

Spinning on the spot she drains the last of the glorious wine and heads toward the kitchen, creates some distance; has to hope that it is enough to smother the fire that is coiling low within her body.

Going about the motions of rinsing out her glass, her desire to create a gap is ignored. He follows, huddles in beside her, the edge of his hip jutting into her body and he reaches over to place his glass next to hers. He seems to purposely advance at a snail's pace, their clothes catching when his arm slides across hers and back again. She forgets to inhale, forgets everything for a second except for how much she craves this closeness, how much she craves him.

But she can't have him, not yet.

Clearing her throat, she searches for a safe topic, needs something to hide behind, lest she turn and confess all that is coursing through her veins, and she settles on the safest topic of them all.

"Will Alexis be okay?"

While his solid frame never moves away from her, she senses his mind shifting to focus on her question and she is thankful for the small reprieve.

"Yeah, she's… upset. After Stanford and now this, I think a part of her wants to pack her bags and head for the hills. Get away and start a new life. But I think she will be okay."

Kate angles her head so she can watch as he continues to mull over Alexis' predicament, shares his daughter's pain in the way only a parent can, and she loves him in this moment. And it's this realization that creates an avalanche, a deluge of comprehension. She loves the way he is protective of his family, the way he loves so fiercely, the way he is such a considerate father, a gracious son, an attentive friend.

She knows that he loves her, and she ignores the flashbacks that wish to be set free from their carefully constructed boxes; instead, she focuses on the fact that she loves him too, even if she is not ready to share that information.

Jerking sharply, she backs away from him– the concept too much to deal with tonight– and confusion clouds his expression over her withdrawal. He has no insight into the reason for her sudden panic and he lifts a hand toward her face, reaches for her as though he could recapture the moment they had almost had, if he could only recapture her.

Ducking away from his outstretched fingers, Kate all but marches toward the door, avoids his look while she makes her way to the entrance. Maybe it's because of the late hour or all that he went through today, but Castle bravely chases her, a large hand wrapping around her forearm, twisting her unexpectedly.

"Beck- Kate?"

It's her first name rolling across his tongue that has her coming to a halt; the way he caresses each letter, as if he were caressing her, and her eyes shut of their own accord. She wants nothing more in this moment than to curl herself around his body, feel the warmth of his skin against her own. To know, to feel that he is here, alive, and these dangerous thoughts appear to be shared, his hand sliding across the surface of her face, four fingers tucking themselves behind her ear, while his upturned thumb polishes the sharp contours of her cheekbone.

Her head cants into his touch, basks in the heat that spreads, scorching her from inside, and her tongue darts across her lips, coats them in a thin layer of moisture. Her actions only encourage him further, and the tip of his nose traces the length of hers. She follows his exploration, slides her skin across his but the weight of the situation is too heavy, and she drops her stare so that she can focus on the edge of his stubble, rather than the depths of his eyes.

"I'm not… enough yet, Castle. That wall is still there and I…" she breathes the words against the roughness of his neck, and a shiver erupts across his body, hips list into hers, and it breaks her confession truth free. "I've been seeing someone. Going to therapy. I'm not ready. But today…" Today she perceived that time is still ticking despite her internal struggles. Today, as the van shuddered underfoot, she thought that she had lost him, had lost any chance of them being more and it haunts her.

How close it all came to being moot, how close it all came to not meaning a thing. All the work she is doing to be free of the shackles that have encased her for so long would have been for naught, if the man before her were not here to share in the results of her effort.

His lips brush along her jawline as if the words have meant nothing, yet as he whispers breathlessly into her skin, she realizes it may have meant everything to him.

"As I was sitting there, gun pressed hard against my throat I thought of Alexis, all the tragedy she would have experienced if he had pulled that trigger, and I thought of you. Images flashed out of reach- all the moments we wouldn't get to have, and it was you two that had me holding on, fighting to get out of there."

His statement results in a strength that straightens her spine, head rising so that their eyes can lock, and he continues, instills his own truth in her. "I don't want to miss all that we can be."

Her lips trap his and she swallows the rest of his words. Their lips meet, and their tongues reconcile; they explore all that had remained out of reach until now. Yet she pulls back, needs to ensure that he understands before they go any further.

"I'm not ready. I'm not in a place where happily ever after is possible. Not yet. I still have more work to do before…" Before she is enough. Before she is all that he deserves. But after today, the thought of going home tears fragments from her soul and she is too weak to fight it.

"Kate?"

Her name falling from his lips has her focusing back onto her partner, on the situation at hand, and she listens intently while he asks, "Can you promise me that you won't run? I can wait. I can wait for us to be more. We can take this as slow as you need it to go, but tomorrow… if you run. I don't think-"

Forcing her mouth into his, she brings his question to a halt, thrusts everything she can into one kiss; she wants him to know her own truth. Everything she can't say, the promise that she is trying to make; that she wants them to be more as desperately as he does, and when they break apart, she slides a hand down.

Searching for his hand, Kate pushes against each digit so that she can separate his broad fingers, needs to fit hers in between. Interlocking their hands, she moves away, walks backwards, her eyes staying connected with his, and she shifts them toward his room.

"That I can promise you, Castle."

Since this is a novel, I thought a dedication would be fitting.

To Jo.

Because a little under three months ago I wrote my first story and put out the request for someone to read over it. I was fortunate in that two lovely people offered, but Jo did more than that, her and her little red pen have had a hand in the majority of my stories; she walked me through how to post on here, explained the simplest of things without laughing- too hard- and continues to be patient, when anyone else would have thrown their hands up and blocked me quickly.

Thank you for being my beta, more importantly thank you for being a friend!