She had firmly insisted on going to some random filthy bar after work, hadn't said why exactly except, Because, Castle, I wanna have some fun. He didn't know taking shots was her go-to way of having fun, but she had had fun all right. She had spent hours taking down whomever dared to defy her alcohol tolerance. If he thought before that, that he knew the full extent of her skills, he'd been wrong, so wrong. She had definitely drunk all those guys under the table with a grace he didn't think was possible to muster.
Eventually, everyone has their limits.
Even Kate Beckett.
If it hadn't been for the noticeable slur, and the much lower, throaty tone in her voice - perhaps she could have fooled him easily. But that was before she'd started trying to get him naked for all eyes to see, all while grinding herself down on him, whining at any of his attempts to get her to stop.
So, he'd called a taxi to take her home before she could do something she'd regret. A police Captain arrested for public indecency? That wouldn't look so good.
He drags her past the door of the loft, the long line of her body heavily slumped on his right side, wet mouth moaning in his neck. "Am noooot drunk, Cassstle!"
He laughs, something that is more air than sound, but she's so damn cute - he never thought he would see that side of her ever again, for too many reasons to count, one being that they had almost died a few months ago. "Yes, you are, Beckett," he answers as he walks her to their bedroom, and gently lies her down. She sits, though he can see her sway on a side, and has to hold out a hand to catch her shoulder and keep her up. He mentally makes a note to bring her some Tylenol, because there is no way she won't wake up with a pounding head. Probably will blame him, too. He falls to his knees, and starts unbuttoning her white shirt, pushing it off her shoulders. She shudders slightly as the air grazes her bare skin, and he watches as it leaves delicate goosebumps in its wake.
"I love you," he hears. When he looks up at her face, she's got a large, dopey smile and sparkling eyes. She reaches out a hand to his cheek, lets her fingers rest here as she stares blankly at him, and blinks.
"Yeah?" He lets out a small laugh as she nods vividly. Tipsy Kate Beckett is incredibly alluring, handsy, and entirely too smart. Very drunk Kate Beckett is like a child, whiny and giggly - and it warms his heart to know that she feels safe enough with him to let him be a witness, to let him handle it. Handle her.
He frees her breasts from the confinement of her bra, and pulls down one of his old tee-shirts she likes to sleep in around her head, lets it flow down her hips.
"Uh-uh. To the m-"
"- the moon and back?" He offers around a shirt laugh, laying a light kiss in her hair that heavily smells of alcohol and smoke. Oh, he can already see her moan about it in a couple of hours. She shakes her head, eyebrows firmly furrowed. "No."
"No?" He asks as he pushes her black slacks down her legs, pulls on her sockets as he goes. He drags the cover aside, and watches as she narrows her eyes in contemplation.
"To Pluto, and back," she decides, a small satisfied smile etched to her lips, looking entirely too proud of herself.
Drunk Beckett is definitely something. Pluto? "Why?"
"The moon's too close. I love you more," she explains with a shrug, as if it makes total sense. His heart gives a little kick at the admission, his mouth parting but offering nothing. What is he supposed to say to this? He can already guess this is one of these conversations he will forever keep engraved in his brain, won't possibly let go of.
"You do know Pluto isn't much of a planet anymore?" He stands, and urges her further up on the bed, guiding her under the cover.
"It so is!" She whines, fisting a hand around the fabric at the front of his shirt, bringing him down with her as she lies down. She glares at him fiercely as if he'd personally insulted her.
He chuckles softly as he lowers himself to her. "No, it's not," he sighs over her lips, watches as a small glint flashes in her eyes through the thick veil of confusion.
"Oh," she lets out with such a small, pained voice, genuinely heartbroken. He shakes his head in quiet amusement, and lets his lips softly graze hers in a quick kiss. When he lifts himself off her, she's already fast asleep - her light snores filling the room as he starts undressing himself, his eyes never leaving her sleeping figure.
He might just have fallen in love with her all over again.
This is originally a short ficlet set post-series I posted on Tumblr - but I figured I'd put it here, too even if it's *tiny*. x