A/N: I've really missed Castle and Beckett lately and I hope this oneshot helps to keep them alive in your hearts as much as writing this did for me. This song always makes me think of them.
All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation
My hands are shaking from holding back from you
All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting
My hands are shaking from holding back from all this
Say my name and everything just stops
I don't want you like a best friend
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
- Dress by Taylor Swift
Kate stands in front of her closet, a fluffy white bath towel wrapped around her chest that falls mid-thigh and she stares down her wardrobe.
She's going undercover in a few hours in the hopes of getting Nigel Windam's DNA and the dress code is formal – chic, really – and if the situation were slightly different she wouldn't hesitate for a second about what to wear. She went out shopping with Lanie about a month ago and despite her best efforts, she let her best friend convince her to splurge on a long, classy, elegant black dress.
"Come on, Kate," Lanie had insisted. "I've seen the looks you've been giving each other recently, and that's just when you two come down to the morgue. That man is going to ask you out someday soon and you'll need something to knock the wind out of him."
"He's not going to ask me out, Lanie."
"Oh please," Lanie had scoffed, rolling her eyes at Kate. "Don't think I didn't notice how you got all jealous when you found out he'd followed another woman around for research."
The mention of Sophia Turner had something in her stomach churning uncomfortably. She knew her betrayal and sudden death had rattled her partner more than he'd let on.
"Not to mention how upset you got when you found out they'd slept together."
"Lanie!" Kate had turned to her, wide eyes and signalling for her to shut it. She hadn't been jealous. She hadn't. She was a strong, independent woman and Castle could sleep with whoever the hell he wanted. It was a long time ago anyway.
Kate shook her head, cursing Lanie for reminding her of Castle's former muse, pushing away the thought of him with someone else. Nope. Definitely not jealous.
"Look, it might not be now or even next week, but someday, Writer Boy is finally going to pluck up the courage to ask you out on a real date and we both know you're going to say yes. This way you'll just have something to wear," Lanie had reasoned and she hadn't even bothered to deny it.
She hadn't told her friend about the conversation she and Rick had had at the swings, about how she'd asked him to wait. But things had been going so well recently – apart from their case with the CIA – and she couldn't deny that the tension between them was growing almost unbearable.
Kate had stopped pretending that she didn't want him a long time ago, and they'd only grown closer in the last few months since she'd been back from her shooting. She'd woken up sweaty, her heart racing, her insides clenching with want, and his name on her lips more than a few times since then.
Even at the store, debating whether or not to buy the dress, she could practically feel the way his fleeting touch leaves her hands tingling every time their fingers brush when he hands her coffee.
Okay, she can admit that she wants him. And if the heated looks she's noticed him shoot her way whenever he thinks she isn't looking is any indication, he wants her too. She hasn't healed completely, and she still has miles to go before she feels whole again but recently she'd started entertaining the thought that maybe they could run the last stretch of her recovery alongside each other. She was tired of waiting, tired of trying to ignore the way her heart raced when she first sees him in the morning, the way his proximity often has her skin flushing with heat.
She'd bit down on her bottom lip as she'd looked at the gorgeous dark dress in the window display. Lanie had mentioned her wearing it on a date with him and images of Castle taking the dress off her had flooded her mind, heating her cheeks and lighting a flame in the pit of her stomach.
She'd bought the dress.
It's been taunting her, hanging in her closet for the past few weeks and there was a moment, during the bombing case when she thought she might actually get to wear it soon, that he was finally going to ask her to take the next step with him.
Oh, how very wrong she'd been.
Because ever since that damn case, nothing has been the same. He hasn't been the same.
Castle has been distant, avoiding her like the plague and flaunting blond bimbos at her crime scenes.
And she misses him. She's pissed too, that he's acting like a child, won't listen to her or talk to her when she's tried to ask what's changed. But above all, she just wants her partner back.
Maybe you just need to remind him what he's been waiting for, she thinks as she eyes the dress. The thought flits through her mind and she immediately hates herself for it. She shouldn't be thinking of using a dress to seduce Richard Castle into falling back in love with her.
That's not how it works, Kate.
She knows that, she does, but she's beginning to find that she's run out of options to hold his attention anymore.
He'll be with her undercover tonight, probably wearing a fancy tux he'll no doubt look absolutely great in. The Scotland Yard agent had tried to insist on going with her, but she'd been adamant that Castle should be the one to accompany her. If she was going undercover, she'd go with her partner, not with another agent she barely knew and doubted whether she could trust.
She thought Castle would have been thrilled about her insisting she take her partner, and at first she'd been sure she'd seen a ripple of something light - something that looked like hope - in his eyes, but it had quickly been squashed and replaced by the cold indifference he's been showing her recently.
They hadn't even had a chance to start and it already feels like they're falling apart. It might be her last chance to wear this dress for him, even if it wasn't really a date.
Screw it.
Kate slips on the long, elegant black gown and pins her hair up in a low bun, leaving a few tendrils of hair to frame her face. Her makeup is light, and she only adds a touch more eyeliner than she usually does for work, dabbing on some gloss to moisten her lips.
Looking into the mirror, she thinks she doesn't look half bad, but she's quickly reminded of the only thing that bothered her about the dress when she first bought it. The low neckline leaves the bullet scar marring her chest exposed. She hates the way it looks, how the skin is slightly discoloured and uneven.
She glances down at the time on her phone and sighs, realizing she's already late, doesn't have time to try and cover it with make-up. Pushing aside her insecurities, she grabs her keys, phone and purse and heads for the door, hailing a cab from the sidewalk.
The dark look in Castle's eyes as she exits the precinct elevator and walks over to where her team stands around their current murder board has her stomach flipping, the butterflies startling awake and flapping their wings furiously, tickling her insides.
At least part of him still wants her, she thinks.
"I still think I should be the one to go with you," Colin Hunt mutters, clearly still upset with her call to bring Castle along with her instead.
"We'll call you with an update later," she tells him, ignoring the scowl on his face. "You ready?" She asks, turning towards Castle, allowing her eyes to take in the dark suit and bowtie he wears, the way it frames his tall, broad figure well. He nods and turns toward the elevator, falling into step beside her. Kate feels him bristle when she casually loops her arm through his and, yeah, that hurts. She does her best to ignore the way her eyes sting slightly at his reaction to her touch.
Is he really so over her that even the slightest form of contact is uncomfortable now? They need to talk. Hopefully, after they get DNA from Windam and leave this party, she'll manage to get more than a few curt and evasive answers out of him. If he really wants nothing to do with her anymore, she needs to know, and, at the very least, she deserves an explanation.
The cab ride over is awkward. They don't speak and Kate regrets choosing to take a taxi rather than her car. She doesn't want to have this conversation with an audience.
At least he knows how to act when they get to the event, all smiles and her heart skips slightly when she feels the warmth of his hand at her lower back. She just hates that it's fake, that it's all an act. She knows his smile, and this one – the one he's wearing now – isn't real: it's the one he puts on for the press and the papers. She figures the hand he drapes across her back is probably just as forced.
She takes him to the dance floor with the excuse of getting a better view of the room, trying to spot their suspect amongst the crowd, but she's entirely too distracted by his hands, the way his warm, thick fingers feel around her waist, practically dwarfing her.
She's lost in the familiar, entirely too intoxicating smell of his cologne, the way his jaw brushes against her cheek as he sways with her, following the music and she knows she's officially losing her mind when she catches herself hoping he'd move his hands just a bit lower down-
"I think that's him by the bar." Castle interrupts her thoughts as he turns her slightly, giving her a direct view of the bar for her to see what he's talking about.
Kate mentally shakes herself, turning her attention back to the case. Castle's right, Windam is standing at the bar. Shit, she has a job to do and she needs to get herself under control or she's going to screw it up.
"I'll go talk to him, see if I can get DNA from his glass," she says, squeezing Castle's hand before moving in towards the bar.
She flirts with the other man, something she'd much rather be doing with her partner she knows is probably purposefully making himself scarce. Kate fails to recover the glass from him as he places it on one of the circulating waiter's trays but when he pulls her in to dance, she manages to swipe his card case just as the authorities are interrupting.
They're escorted out of the party, but she doesn't care one bit. She's got the prints they came here to get which means she and Castle can finally talk.
"Hey, would you like to get a drink somewhere?" She offers, hope leaking through her voice.
"Thought you'd be eager to call Scotland Yard and tell him the good news," he dismisses her and her heart sinks.
"Castle, I insisted that you be the one to accompany me to that event. If I had wanted Colin to come instead, I wouldn't have told him I'd rather my partner accompany me."
"Oh, so it's Colin now?" He says, sounding irritated, completely disregarding the fact that she vouched for him, that she wanted him there with her, that she still considers him her partner.
Kate shakes her head, feeling herself getting angry now. "Castle, you're not listening to me. We need to talk-"
"What is there to talk about?" He asks, feigning cluelessness.
"This!" She says, her voice getting higher as anger boils in her blood. "Us. The way you've been acting for the past few weeks."
"I thought this is what you wanted, Kate," he spits out, and her heart plummets when he starts to turn away from her, but then he spins back towards her abruptly. "You know, you had months to talk. I'm getting pretty tired of being the clueless pining best friend," he seethes and her head spins as she tries to make sense of his words, to put the pieces he's giving her together. How is he clueless and pining?
"I don't want you like a best friend." The words slip out of her mouth before she gets the chance to filter them, her cheeks heating, but once again he misjudged her meaning.
"Great, glad we established I'm not good enough for that either," he mumbles.
"Not good enough? What are you talking about. I want you…" she trails off, knows her cheeks are probably bright red by now but she decides to go all in. "I want you to take this dress off me." She can't be any clearer than that, can she? But she can see the confusion swirling in the depths of his eyes, thawing some of the ice.
"You – What?"
She lunges for him, her hands reaching up until her fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling him down to her as she surges up and catches his mouth with hers.
He groans, surprised, and it takes him a few seconds to recover, to realize what's going on, but when the shock subsides, he doesn't wait another second before grabbing onto her waist and pulling her close. She moans when he brings her body flush with his, her skin on fire, her lower abdomen pulsing with heat and want and god, she's wanted this for so long.
Castle takes advantage of her open mouth to slide his tongue against hers, and she can taste the mixed emotions in his kiss. The confusion and hurt, the anger, the hunger, the passion, the love. God, she hopes she isn't reading that last one wrong, that it isn't too late.
Kate tries to lift her knee up to brace at his hip, but the long material of her dress gets in the way, restraining her movements.
"Castle," she gasps his name when he breaks away from her mouth, his lips trailing a blazing line of fire along the skin of her neck, and a shiver runs up her spine at the scratch of his evening stubble against her collarbone.
Fuck, she wants him. But not here, not like this, like some cheap hookup in some dirty alley. They've both been waiting too long not to do this right. They need to talk, she knows that. She still wants to know why he thought he needed to pull away just when she was starting to feel ready to take down the final pieces of her wall. And they will, she'll make sure they do. But this first.
God, she needs this first, right now, can't wait any longer to be with him.
"Rick," she says, pulling on his hair slightly, fighting back a whimper when he follows her silent instructions and moves away from her neck to look up at her. "Take me home?"
It comes out far more uncertain than she'd planned, and even though he hadn't pushed her away when she'd kissed him, she's still a little worried that he'll change his mind, that he's decided it's too late for them.
But then he's turning around and twining their fingers as he hails a cab with his other hand. It takes less than ten seconds for someone to pull up by the curb to offer them a ride and they're actually not that far from her place, but the drive seems to take forever. Castle's hand is high up on her thigh, his touch searing through the material of her dress and she can feel her cheeks burning when his pinkie finger moves just a tad higher, mere inches from where she desperately wants him.
His arousal is also barely concealed through his pants, his want for her fairly obvious and the driver keeps shooting them warning glares in the rear-view mirror. He doesn't seem to mind so much when Castle tosses him a twenty-dollar tip, not bothering to stick around for the change as they stumble out of the taxi toward her building.
He's on her the moment the elevator doors close, his hands everywhere, as her back hits the furthest wall of the small box, his mouth latching onto hers once more and she shoves the black jacket from his shoulders. Her heart feels like it's about to beat out of her chest, combust against the cage of her ribs and a keening sound she doesn't even recognize leaves her lips when his thumb brushes the underside of her breast through the material of her dress. She gasps when the bell rings and the doors of the elevator open again, but she's pulling him with her towards the door, laughing a little as he stumbles.
But her laugh turns breathless when he crowds her back against the door, her hands shaking as she struggles to fit the key in the lock. His lips trail a line of kisses along the back of her neck, his teeth nipping at the exposed skin of her shoulder and his hand snakes around her middle, pulling her flush against his front and it's all she can do not to grind against him. Her head falls back on his shoulder, gasping when his fingers start to edge lower, moving down to her abdomen, his teeth biting at her ear.
She has no damn clue how the hell he manages to do it, but somehow, he's the one who succeeds in opening the door and then moving them inside, her feet following his movements.
She spins around once they pass the threshold, needing to taste his mouth again, needing the reassurance that it's him she's kissing, Castle who's here with her and on the verge of driving her completely over the edge.
Fuck, they are way too good at this already. They aren't even naked, he's barely touched her and she's pretty sure she's already ruined. She knows for a fact that her panties are already drenched – a surprise she's kind of looking forward to him finding out – and if he doesn't get her out of this damn dress soon she's pretty sure she's going to explode.
She reaches up to rid him of the bowtie he wore for the event, not bothering to note where it falls, and she wastes no time in starting to work at the buttons of his dress shirt.
"Kate," he growls, his hands gripping her waist, but he lets go when she has his shirt completely unbuttoned, pushing it past his shoulders and dropping it to the floor.
She hates how restricted she feels by the tight material of her dress, how it stops her from lifting her knee to hook her leg at his waist, keeps her from driving her hips into his the way she wants to.
Kate takes hold of his hand again, lacing their fingers and she pulls him with her, leading the way to her bedroom. She wants this dress off. Now.
His gaze never strays from hers as she guides them, walking backward with ease in the familiar space of her home, and when they finally get to her bedroom, something in his eyes shifts. The carnal, desperate hunger is still there, still bright and ready to pounce, but there's a tenderness there too, something soft, like this moment is everything to him.
It steals the air from her lungs, leaves her winded but he gives her no time to recover, his hands coming up to cup her face and he bends down to reach her lips, softer this time, but just as passionate, sipping from her mouth.
Their kiss starts off soft, but it grows deeper, heated in a matter of seconds and his hands start to wander again, drifting down and spanning over the black material still covering far too much of her skin. They part for air, their lungs screaming for oxygen, but his lips only migrate to her neck once more. She's pretty sure the way he's sucking and nipping at her skin is going to leave a mark, but she honestly can't bring herself to care. Not when it has her legs turning to jelly and her lower abdomen clenching with want.
"I bought it for you," she blurts, and the fact that she's telling him this would horrify her if it weren't for the fact that she knows he'll be absolutely thrilled.
"Bought what?" He asks, entirely too distracted by the siren call of her body to keep track of where she's taking their conversation. His hands move down to cup her ass, squeezing slightly and she moans at the way it brings her closer, has her body colliding with his.
"The dress," she clarifies, and it comes out a lot more breathless than she'd hoped. "I wanted you to take it off me."
He groans at her words, his hands running over the soft material, taking it in again with this new knowledge in mind.
He spins her around, laying kisses atop her spine, relishing in the uncovered skin, his fingers snagging the small metal clasp of the zipper, pulling down impossibly slow.
"You look gorgeous in it," he whispers, his voice low and raspy, sending tingles down her spine. "I was so glad I'd be the one with you at the event when you showed up wearing that. I couldn't have handled the thought of his hands on you." The last words come out more possessive than she thinks he intended but fuck if that doesn't completely do it for her.
"I didn't want him," she reassures him, turning her head to the side to catch his eyes even as he stands at her back. "I want you, just you, Castle."
He leans forward, capturing her mouth despite the slightly awkward angle, his arms banding around her tightly.
"God, I want you too, Kate. More than I've ever wanted anyone."
"Then take me out of this dress," she challenges and he smirks that mischievous grin she knows and loves, his eyes growing a shade darker, if that's even possible.
He tugs the zipper down the length of her spine, his lips grazing every inch of skin he uncovers along the way, driving her crazy and close to begging.
When he reaches the end of the zipper, she lets the dress fall from her chest, pooling at the ground around her feet and she gasps at the feel of his fingers spanning her waist, moving up her sides.
"You're so beautiful, Kate."
She nearly whimpers at the awe in his voice, the reverence in his gentle touch. It sets her on fire, her blood sizzling with heat and a sudden burst of impatience courses through her. She swivels, turning in his arms and she thinks he sees the desperation swimming in her eyes when she makes quick work of his pants, flicking open the button and zipper and pushing the material down his thighs.
Kate watches him shiver, his abdominal muscles tensing as she dips her finger just below the elastic band of his boxers.
Castle grabs her wrist before her nimble fingers can wrap around the hard evidence of his arousal.
"Four years is enough teasing, woman. God, you're going to kill me," he groans but she surges up on her toes to catch the sound, desperate to just be closer. He walks her back towards the bed until the underside of her knees hit the mattress. Kate lets herself sink down and Castle follows her up the bed, a predatory look in his eyes that has her insides tingling with pure, unadulterated want.
She expects him to keep moving up until his face is level with hers, but he stops just short, his head dipping down and she gasps at the sudden wet stroke of his tongue against her breast. He takes her nipple between his lips, sucking and nipping lightly at her skin in a way that has her pelvis rocking against him, seeking friction.
Kate moans at the feel of his hard thigh between hers, rubbing the wet line of her still covered centre just right, but it's not enough, nowhere near enough. Not with him.
She wants all of him.
"More, Castle, please," she moans and the sound of her damn near begging seems to spur him on. He reluctantly lets go of her breast and she has to bite back a whimper at the loss. It's entirely her fault, she's the one who asked for more, and she has no doubt he'll make her remember why in a few seconds.
She pushes the material of his boxers past his hips and lifts her lower body for him to do the same with her panties.
Kate can't help but look down, curiosity getting the better of her, but the glorious sight of Castle lying completely naked over her equally bare body has a pulsing wave of heat travelling through her.
When she looks back up, his eyes are alight with want, carnal heat, but there's something softer there as well. No one's ever looked at her that way.
Her fingers tangle in the mess of his hair, pulling him down for a kiss, their tongues clashing heatedly.
"Now," she sighs against his lips, undulating her hips against his so that there's no question as to what she wants.
He positions himself at her entrance, and the feel of him, hard and ready against her wet flesh has her biting at her bottom lip to keep from moaning obscenely.
He enters her in one smooth thrust, painstakingly slow and her hands fist in his hair as she tries to hold on to some small semblance of control.
"God, Kate," he whispers, his voice gravely, like he's fighting just as hard as she is not to lose it. He starts a slow pace that sets her every limb on fire, tingles down to her fingers and toes.
Fuck, he feels so good.
She hadn't meant to speak the words out loud but apparently her brain to mouth filter is malfunctioning and his hips snap into her in a sharp thrust, hitting all her hypersensitized nerves somewhere deep inside she doesn't think anyone's ever reached before.
Her breathing is coming out in heavy pants, her heart beating out of her chest as their bodies rock together in a skillful way, an elegant dance they have no right to be this good at the first time around.
But they are, and she doesn't know if it's because of four years of anticipation or this man's crazy attention to detail but he has her on the verge of combusting within a handful of minutes.
She's barely aware of the sounds coming out of her mouth, doesn't recognize any of them, but she can't stop - please, Rick don't stop.
Her nails carve crescent shaped marks over the skin of his back as she holds onto him, blood singing in her veins, her body hanging just over the edge of release.
She cries out when his hand moves down to where their bodies are connected, applying just the right amount of pressure to her sensitive nerves, and her hips snap up to meet his, sandwiching his hand between them.
He groans, his other hand clenching around the soft strands of her hair, his lips grazing her throat. "Let go, Kate."
The sound of his voice sends her barreling over the cliff, the muscles in her thighs quivering, her fingers bruising at his nape and she feels her orgasm pulse through the entire length of her body, the top of her head prickling, toes curling and she just holds onto him as tightly as she possibly can, unwilling to let him go. She wants him to feel just how spectacularly he undoes her.
Castle gives back as much as he gets, allowing himself to fall over the edge of pure bliss a few seconds after she does, plunging into her one - two - three times before his body seizes up and she feels the strength in his large hands as he grabs her waist, pulling her in ever closer.
Kate doesn't even know where he ends and she begins, but she doesn't have the presence of mind to care. Her breathing is still laboured, her heart still working double time a few seconds later but she isn't ready to let him go. It doesn't look like he has anywhere else to be either, content to hold onto her for as long as she'll let him.
"That's my favourite dress," he murmurs when a few minutes have passed, the sweat cooling over their bodies, his fingers tracing small patterns over her smooth skin.
She laughs.
"Mine too," she agrees, turning in his arms so she can face him, and it's true. It is her favourite dress, but not because of the silky material or the way it hugs her curves just right. It's because she bought it for him.
"Will you wear it for me again?" He asks, his voice hopeful as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes a mystic blue.
"I don't know, Castle," she says, just for the sake of teasing him, to prove to herself that even after this, they're still them. "I don't really plan on wearing any clothes for a while."