For Bean, on her birthday. Which was like 3 months ago, I'm sorry. I did start writing this then, so that counts I think.
Post 4x11, the aftermath of the Ryans' wedding.
It's getting late and the festivities are slowly dying down. A majority of the guests have left and the only the Ryans' closest friends and family remained, lingering around the ballroom as they finished the last of their drinks. Castle leans against the smooth marble edge of the bar, nursing a finger of scotch as he watches the rest of the room.
He's had a good time tonight. Both Kevin and Jenny deserved the best and everything had gone off without a hitch, much to everyone's pleasure. The band was great, the food amazing, and to top it all off, the free flow of alcohol had allowed him to witness first-hand Beckett's freestyle rapping skills. Definitely not something he thought he'd see in this lifetime.
He takes another swig of the pale amber liquid sloshing in his glass, allowing the bitter burn to swirl around his tongue before traveling down his throat. He's not really drunk, but he's had enough that he's not risking the drive home and he's never been more grateful for his foresight to book the entire 12th precinct and himself rooms for the night at the hotel.
Someone shrieks in laughter and his eyes roam the room, seeking out the source of the delightful sound. His gaze lands on her - of course, it would - and he can't help but smile at the sight before him. Beckett's shimmying across the dance floor with Lanie, beaming like the moon as they take turns dipping each other. He's captivated by the way she twirls with the M.E, long legs sliding against the polished wood in time to the melody thrumming around the room.
She's always been beautiful to him, of course, but on this particular night, there's something different about her. It's as if the joy of the Ryans' finally saying 'I do' had cast a spell on her and she's glowing - no, glimmering - with happiness which in turn makes him feel so alive.
He finishes the last of his drink, slides the tumbler across the countertop to the waiting barkeep and strides towards his partner. He's already had a few quick dances with her but he hasn't had enough, never enough, and he doesn't think she'll object. Not when she's grinning at him like the way she is now, wide and toothy, mirth shining in her eyes.
"Last dance, Castle!" she calls out to him, fingers stretched out, reaching for the lapels of his tuxedo. "I love this song!"
Bryan Adams sings about his first real six string in the background as Castle falls into rhythm with her, careful to maintain a respectable distance. She's wearing the thinnest, most dangerous pair of heels he's ever seen in his life, and he doesn't doubt that even in her less than sober state she can still maim him for invading her personal space.
Beckett gets right into the song, fist pumping, hips swaying, and all Castle can do is to follow her lead. They fall in step with one another with ease and it's a pleasant revelation to know that they can remain in sync with one another outside of the boundaries of their day to day crime-solving.
They work up a sweat, and by the time the last chord rings out through the near-empty ballroom, his vision's a little blurry and he finds himself standing on wobbly feet. Beckett's fingers are curled around his bicep, clutched in a painful death grip and it's clear she's faring no better than he is.
"Thanks for the dance, Castle," she says, a smirk playing on the corners of her lips. She lets go his arm and he swears he can feel the rush of blood through his veins from the release of her vice-like hold on him. "You're a good dancer. Maybe one day we can go danc-"
She doesn't get to finish her sentence because Lanie reappears out of nowhere, a sly smile on her face and a part of him deflates at the ruined moment. "They're closing down the bar, Kate!" Lanie tells them, blissfully unaware of what she'd interrupted. "Last call!"
Beckett turns to him, head tilted to the side in a silent invitation. Castle shakes his head, chuckling. "You guys go ahead, I'm done for the night. Go ahead and get those amaretto shots you love so much."
Lanie rolls her eyes at him, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like 'loser', before she tugs on Beckett's arm and leads her away. Castle watches with quiet contentment at their retreating backs, a strange flutter in his chest as he loses sight of them weaving through the crowd back to the bar.
It's three in the morning when his phone chirps loudly in his ear. He's jolted awake, heart tripping at the sudden interruption of his sleep. Despite barely being able to open his eyes, the years of early morning body drops have conditioned his muscles to reach out to the offending object anyway and he swipes his thumb to unlock his phone.
The soft glow of the screen in the darkness blinds him for a moment, but once his eyes adjust to the light, he realizes he's received a text message from Lanie.
SOS Beckett's room.
He narrows his eyes at the message, lips pursed as his sleep-addled brain tries to make sense of it. It could have been a drunk text; he had seen exactly how much the M.E was drinking, but he can't quite ignore the nagging feeling that it could also be a very real emergency.
His fingers are poised to reply when another message comes through: You have read the message, get your ass here right now. 415.
Castle squints at the message and after a beat, sighs and swings his feet over the side of the bed. He might as well go see what the issue is. At the very least, just to check in on them to make sure they were alright.
He's conscious about the late hour so when he finally locates her room and knocks, he tries to keep it quiet. Despite that, the polite rap of his knuckles still echoes through the empty corridor and he grimaces, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He's not nervous, not exactly. But he knows that Ryan, Esposito and oh god, Beckett's dad are staying on the same floor and if they find him outside her door this early...who knows what they'd think.
When seconds turn to minutes, he contemplates returning to his own room. It's chilly out in the corridor and he's only in a loose sleep shirt and his pajama pants, and he really, really wants to get back into his warm, comfortable bed. He's about to turn around to walk back when the door flies open and jumps, startled.
"Oh good, you're here.'
Lanie hooks an arm through his, ignoring the bewilderment on his face and drags him forcefully into the room. He stumbles past the doorway, feet tripping over themselves as he's manhandled into the suite.
Annoyed and a little indignant at the way he's being treated, he swivels around and is about to ask Lanie what the hell she's doing, but she shushes him, waving her hands in the air.
"It's your turn now. God knows you'll have more luck with her. She's stubborn when she's tipsy. And I'm too drunk and tired to carry her to the bed." Lanie folds her arms over her chest and Castle blinks dumbfounded as he tries to process her words.
Carry who to her bed?
The hotel room isn't a big one, so it only takes him one quick look around to take in his surroundings. Confusion clouds his mind for a second - where is Beckett? - until he manages to find her.
On the floor.
In nothing but her underwear.
He feels his cheeks warm and he spins around to face Lanie, averting his eyes. For all the leering and appreciating he does of her form during the day, somehow under the current circumstances, it feels wrong. He can't help the nervous laughter that escapes from between his lips and he raises a hand to the back of his neck, pressing into the thick tendons to try and ease the tension there.
"Lanie, uh..."
"I tried to get her up on the bed but she's too tall for me and I'm exhausted. So as her partner, can you please make sure she gets some sleep. Think you can handle that, Castle?"
Lanie fixes him with an intimidating stare and he nods his head in agreement. He doesn't want to argue with her, and the gentleman in him does actually want to reach over and bundle her up in the thickest blankets to make sure his partner's okay and warm and comfortable.
"But no funny business, alright?"
Castle nods again, not quite trusting himself with words - everything is happening so fast he can barely keep up. It's only when Lanie departs, slamming the door behind her that he lets himself breathe, chest expanding as he inhales deeply.
"That was unnecessarily loud."
It's like her voice triggered something in him and he swallows and licks his lips, walking over to Beckett. She's still lying on the floor, but her eyes are clenched shut, her hair a halo of tangles spread out on the carpet beneath her. He lowers himself to the ground next to her, sitting cross-legged, careful to maintain his gaze on her face and not let it wander any further down.
"Sorry," he murmurs. "It was just Lanie, leaving for the night. You wanna head to bed too, Beckett?"
"No bed, floor's good. Just no more loud noises,okay?" she moans, an arm coming up to shield her eyes. "Come lie with me, Castle."
He chuckles at her unexpected request, but lets it go - he won't hold this against her, not like this. "Wouldn't you rather lie in bed? All warm and cozy, Beckett?"
"No."
Castle starts to understand Lanie's earlier frustration. With their significant height difference and Beckett's apparent reluctance to move, he can't imagine Lanie trying to haul Beckett up from the floor, much less get her settled in bed.
He almost wants to give in to her request. He's so tired, and stretching out alongside his partner, sleeping the rest of the morning away sounds like such a good idea, but he won't. His back will punish him for it later, and who knows what Beckett might do to him when she sobers up.
"No, come on, Beckett. Just get up for like, thirty seconds, and you can lie down again."
She doesn't respond, instead, she lets out a loud groan and shakes her head in defiance.
Castle sighs and makes up his mind. Okay.
He stands up, bones cracking, and shuffles his way around to her head. He bends over and with a grunt of effort, slips his hands under her armpits and pulls.
She's not heavy, but she's tall and it's a miracle he doesn't fall backward as he lifts her up. It helps that Beckett doesn't struggle too much - he's pointedly ignoring her very loud, verbal protests - and after a lot of careful maneuvering, he manages to sit her on the edge of her bed.
Oh god, he's so tired.
"Okay, there - you're fine now. I'll turn the air conditioning down so you don't get too cold, and you just get under the blankets, okay?"
The steely glare she fixes on him can wither the healthiest of plants, but Castle folds his arms across his chest, eyebrows arched, daring her to challenge him. Eventually, she relents and flops backward onto the bed with a loud sigh.
"Okay, fine, bossy."
Castle breathes out in relief and turns around, hunting for the thermostat. He locates it easily by the door and fiddles with it until he's satisfied it will be warm enough that Beckett won't be uncomfortable sleeping in her underwear.
He walks back to Beckett and he can't help the grin that stretches across his face when he takes in the lumpy form in the middle of the bed. She's pulled the thick blanket over herself, tucked the edges in and under her body so that only her head remains visible.
She's turned herself into a Beckett burrito.
Oh, wow.
He laughs and pulls his phone out for a quick picture. He may be a gentleman, but an opportunity like this will probably never come around again and it's just too much of an adorable moment for him to pass up.
"Did you just take a picture of me?" she asks as she squints at him, turning to her side in her burrito so she can look at him.
Castle squats down by her so their heads are on the same level and he smirks. "Yeah, just to remind me of this wonderful night. Don't worry, no one else will see it."
Beckett yawns and her eyes flutter shut, nose wrinkling as she squirms to get comfortable. "'Kay. Show me tomorrow," she mumbles, barely audible as she starts drifting to sleep.
He's tempted to lean over to brush his lips over the smooth skin of her forehead and it takes every shred of willpower in him not to, even though she can't see him, and even though he knows there's a high chance she won't remember it when she wakes up. Instead, he makes do with running his fingers through her hair and he sighs with longing. Standing up, he walks back towards the door, flicking the light switches as he passes them, blanketing the room in darkness.
His fingers are curled around the doorknob when Beckett calls out to him, her quiet voice drifting towards him like a siren's call in the night.
"Castle, you know you're the best partner I have."
Warmth spreads through him like wildfire and he can feel it in the tips of his ears. His heart soars and the grin that spreads over his face is lost in the early hours of the morning. He's not sure if she's still awake or even if she knows he's still there but he responds anyway.
"You're my best partner too, Kate."
Thank you for reading! Reviews are loved as much as I love potatoes and also bean(s). Which is a lot.
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