"Beckett," he said in bewilderment, but she had already pushed past him and stormed into his apartment. She spun sharply on her heel to face him.
"What is wrong with you," she demanded before he has a chance to get in another word.
He had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground. Kate Beckett, the woman he had spent all day trying to avoid, was actually standing in his living room, in the middle of the night, yelling at him. He blinked his eyes a few times before he was satisfied he wasn't just dreaming.
He had fallen asleep on his couch a few hours earlier, trying in vain to finish up a chapter of his latest Nikki Heat novel and had only just woken up to the sound of her persistent knocking. He was still a little groggy from the haze of sleep that still lingered in his mind but her accusation had snapped him out of it pretty quickly.
"Nothing is wrong with me," he lied miserably. "Other than the fact that I was just woken up in the middle of the night by my partner when there was no body drop, I'm just peachy."
She tilted her head slightly to the side and her eyebrows shot up skeptically. She wasn't buying a word of it and he knew it. She crossed her arms across her chest in a very domineering stance. "Yes there is," she stated matter-of-factly. "I'm you partner and I know when you are lying to me so don't even try that."
"I'm the one who's lying?" His eyes widened incredulously. "oh isn't that just rich." He laughed mirthlessly and turned away from her, pacing towards the kitchen. He ran his hand through his already tousled hair in frustration. He turned back towards her and, using both of his hands to brace himself, leaned against the kitchen countertop.
She looked at him in disbelief. "Ok what is up with you? One second everything is perfectly fine then out of the blue you just push away, with no explanation, no reason you just distance yourself, and I want to know why."
His jaw clenched. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She was actually yelling at him, demanding to know the truth from him. She looked at him expectantly.
Recovering from his initial shock, his face darkened. "With no reason at all. Really Kate, are you going to keep playing that game?"
His fists tightened to the point where his knuckles whitened and for the first time since she had decided to confront him, Kate started to feel doubt creeping in. She was expecting him to act defensive maybe even slightly annoyed at her badgering but she was not expecting anger. His eyes darkened and despite the tough front that she had put up, she involuntarily stepped back.
Seeing her unconscious retreat, he knew that he was ruining her plan to come over and browbeat him into telling her what was wrong, but he didn't care. If anything he wanted her to feel afraid, wanted her to know how much she had hurt him. He took a step away from the countertop to match hers, determined not to allow her the comfort that distance would provide.
"Do you really want to know what is wrong with me," he shouted back. For once he was actually glad the house was empty because if his mother and Alexis had been home tonight he was sure that this shouting match they were fanning would have defiantly roused them from their beds by now. She started inching backwards but he just kept pace with her, never allowing her to put more than an inch or two between them. "Because you of course have no idea what's wrong, isn't that right?"
Before she could reply, one last step brought her back against the wall. Her eyes darted to the side for only a second, looking for a retreat, but when she looked back he had already closed the space between them and had place both of his hands on the door on either side of her shoulders, effectively trapping her. He towered over her. Seeing no other retreat, she forced her eyes back to his face.
"Yes," she shot back defiantly, but despite her best efforts, her voice came out cracked and unsteady.
His eyes narrowed. "Really, what could have possibly happened in the past few days that could have caused me to be so distant? Well you're the detective Kate why don't you tell me?"
"I don't know," she stressed. "That's why I'm asking you."
"Really," he said bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that he was still a little sleep deprived or maybe it was that frustration of seeing Beckett when he clearly wasn't ready to face her, but something had made him snap and right now he was in no mood to continue their little game of lies and half-truths.
"Well then let me try and help you out with that. What is it that happened on that day? Here let's go through the timeline. First I woke up. Then I ate breakfast with Alexis, stopped to get some coffee before heading to the precinct, talked to Ryan and Esposito, heard you admit in interrogation that you had been lying to me for months and had been leading me on, knowing full well that you didn't love me like I love you," He finally admitted, his voice now well above his normal volume. He shrugged indifferently "Then I headed back home and then…"
"You love me," He stopped midsentence. Her voice was barely above a whisper but it cut through his shouting, like a blade. His mouth went dry.
The second she heard those words her wall came crashing down around her and before he had the chance to respond, she had closed the gap between them and was kissing him with the type of fervor that could only come from four years of pent up sexual tension. He knew he should have stopped her, that he should have pushed her back and demanded to know the reason for her bizarre and slightly bipolar behavior but right now her lips were hot against his and God how did she even learn how to do that.
He wanted her to stop, wanted to pull away, but before he knew it he was kissing her back. Instinctively his hands traveled down the curve of her side and found a place at her hips. The need to be closer to her overruled, and he pulled her flush against him. She moaned into his mouth at the sudden intimate contact but didn't pull back. Instead her arms reached up around his neck to pull him down even closer into the kiss.
He was in heaven. It was twisted and didn't make a lick of sense other than that it was happening purely to torture him but still it had to be, right? Something that felt that good couldn't be anything but heaven.
Then in an instant the anger came boiling back. She was doing this, torturing him, when she knew how he felt. She was giving him this even though she knew she didn't want him, not really. She was just toying with him. It was the only explanation that made sense and while he did have to admit that at the moment most of his thoughts were focused elsewhere, that much was clear.
His hands instinctively tightened around her hips with this realization, enough to where he was sure it would leave a bruise, but she just let out a slight whimper and kept kissing him. His teeth grazed her lower lip before he bit down against it, almost hard enough to draw blood, and then he quickly swept his tongue over it, soothing away the lingering sting. She didn't object. She merely opened her mouth wider to give him more access. His veins were on fire, boiling throughout his body in anger and lust. He was being rough, his anger at her finding a new outlet, but she didn't seem to care.
Fine, he decided, if this was the game she was playing he could play too. She wasn't the only one who could be emotionally unattached. He had been a playboy at some point, and if all she wanted was a one night stand he could do that. He wouldn't let her win this time, he could play too. At least that's what he told himself because that way he wasn't giving into his urges; he was just giving her what she wanted.
Now that he knew what he was doing he turned his full attention back to the task at hand. If she didn't want to be with him then he would be damn sure to show her what she was missing. This one time he wasn't about to let her being in control.
Trying to shift power, he shoved her back against the wall not all that gently. She let out a gasp against his lips, and he took her brief moment of surprise to let his hands travel downward to the back of her thighs. Before she had the chance to recover, he griped her legs and hoisted her off the ground. Automatically, her legs circled his waist, using them to keep herself up. He stepped forward, shoving her roughly against the wall again and she clung to him, her nails digging into his back. They both groaned at the added pressure.
He brought his hands up her back, and tangled them in her hair. He felt her hands grip the bottom of his shirt in a silent request and, breaking the kiss for a brief second, he helped her pull the fabric over his head. The second he had tossed it to the ground their lips found each other again. Her hands traveled across the expanse his newly exposed chest in determination to touch every inch of his skin. He shivered as her nails lightly dragged against his chest.
With one hand flat against her back between her shoulder blades, he brought the other one back to cup her cheek. He released lips, taking the time to press one last kiss to them before trailing open mouthed kisses down her jaw, neck, and collar bone till he reached the edge of her shirt. Removing his hand off her cheek he ghosted his finger tips down the path he had just kissed, stopping only when his fingers brushed the fabric of her shirt. Quickly he undid the top button and brushed the flaps back to reveal the black lace bra beneath them. He started kissing the newly exposed skin he found there when he felt a slight bump against her velvet skin.
He pulled back when he realized that what he had felt was the scar left behind from her shooting. That sheer sight of it was enough to bring all the memories of that day back. That day he had lost her twice, when she had almost died and when she had rejected him. Not being able to stand looking at the reminder of her rejection any longer he tore the rest of her shirt open rather than continuing his slow process of unbuttoning each individually. They both heard the sound of buttons skittering across the wooden floor but neither of them paid it much attention.
Using her elbow she pushed off the door in an attempt to get him to head in the direction of the bedroom. He seemed to get what she was trying to say because he started backing away from the wall. Walking blindly the two stumbled backwards, hitting random object they found in their path, until he felt the familiar bump of his bed again the back of his knees. The fact that they had entered his bedroom had barely occurred to him.
Toppling backwards, they clung to each other as the bed dipped under their combined weight. In an instant she had crawled back on top of him and their lips connected once again. He dragged his hand down the expanse of her stomach and she shivered under his touch. Using his other hand he trailed his fingers down the delicate curve of her spine. Both hands met at the top of her jeans and just as his hand went to work undoing the top button, he felt her smiled against his lips, like she was happy, truly happy to be there with him. That's when he realized how wrong this whole thing was.
Yes she was kissing him the way he had been dying to have her do for years, but she shouldn't be. She rejected him already. Even if they were to sleep together he wouldn't get what he wanted because one way or another by morning's light she would be gone. Whether he liked it or not she wasn't his and this wouldn't change that. Making up his mind, in one swift movement he had flipped them over to where she was now trapped between him and the bed.
She arched upward towards him, deliciously pressing against him in all the right places, waiting for him to kiss her again, and it was tempting, so very tempting, but he held himself back. Realizing that he was pulling away from her rather than towards her, her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him, confusion written across her face.
"What are you doing," he panted as he tried recovering what little composer he could manage.
She rolled her eyes. "Castle really I would have thought that you of all people would know perfectly well where this was going."
He shook his head. "No, I mean why are you doing this?"
She propped herself up on her elbows and gave him a type of look that while still affectionate, clearly was meant convey that she thought he was a complete idiot. She pursed her lips. "Hmmm now why on earth would I be kissing my roguishly handsome partner who just admitted his was in love with me?" She pretended to think for a second before playfully concluding, "nope can't think of any good reason."
Giving him a sly smile, she leaned towards him again and placed her lips against the skin on his neck. Delicately she peppered kisses along the curve of his neck and down his chest before returning to the curve where his shoulder met his neck.
Focusing her attention on that spot she set to work kissing and nipping against the soft skin she found there. In a moment of weakness Castle let out a soft groan and rolled his head back. Spurred on by his reaction, her arms wrapped around his back, and her leg snaked around his waist to bring him back down closer to her. It took every ounce of self control for him to detach himself from her arms and pull away again.
She tried following him up but knowing he wouldn't be able to pull away a third time, he pushed back against her shoulders, pinning her back against the bed.
"But you already knew. You already rejected me." He blurted out.
The amused looked vanished from her face instantly, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Hooking her leg around his, she flexed it slightly and pushed off the bed with her elbows. The next thing he knew his back was pressed against the bed and she was hovering above him, her legs pressing against the sides of his hip as she straddled him. Her hair dangled down over her shoulders creating an almost curtain like effect as she looked down at him. His fingers itched to push it behind her ear but he refrained
He looked at their current situation, bewilderment on his face. "How did you…." he started but she placed her finger over his lips, silencing him.
"Castle, focus, what do you mean I already knew?"
He shifted uncomfortably beneath her. He instantly recognized the all too familiar interrogation tone in her voice. Without his permission his anger fled and he was left feeling like a three year old boy being scolded by the teacher.
"I told you at the cemetery," he offered weakly, "after you had gotten shot."
By the look she was giving him he could tell that she was still just as lost as before. "I already told you, I can't remember anything from that night," she pointed out, still not fully understanding his reasoning.
"But I saw you," he stated with more conviction, "in the interrogation room. You told that guy," he paused, "you told him you remembered." He finished barley above a whisper.
He avoided catching her eye, knowing full well the guilt he would see if he did and instead busied himself by studying a lose string on the sheets below him.
"Castle" she warned but his eyes stayed glued to the sheet, still refusing to make eye contact. He felt her finger against the underside of his chin and she forced his head up till his eyes meet hers.
He looked up expecting her expression to be guilt riddled, but when he finally caught her eye she wasn't upset at all. She was smiling, again not the reaction he had been expecting.
"That's what this all is about?" She asked, clearly trying to maintain a serious control over her growing amusement.
When he nodded his head she let out a silent laugh. "Castle, I was lying."
He looked offended, "I know and that's why it hurt so much. We are partners and you just lied to my face for months so easily without even the slightest thought about what leading me on was doing to me. You didn't even consider wh….."
"Castle" she snapped, trying to steer the conversation back on topic. She fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. "No I meant I was lying in interrogation."
His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"Oh come on you have sat in with me on countless interrogations. You know how it works. I lie, I manipulate, and I change personalities in hopes of getting a confession. The guy obviously knew exactly what had happened and was just used amnesia as a scapegoat so I backed him into a corner by not letting him use that excuse."
She watched his eyes dart back and forth ever so slightly as he mulled over this new information. The realization hit him like a tidal wave. He hadn't actually considered that possibility before but coming from her it sounded so simple and obvious. Finally, as if testing the waters, he said, "so you didn't know what I had said?" She shook her head.
"And you didn't lie to me about knowing because you didn't feel the same way." She shook no again. "So you aren't ashamed of me?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "No more than usual."
He paused for a brief second to give her a mock scowl before continuing. "And you just found out, for the first time, that I loved you a few minutes ago…..when I was yelling at you," he concluded.
"Basically"
"…Oh" He stared up at her, sizing her up, like he was trying to work something out. "So," he dragged out, his face brightening slightly, "does this mean that you do love me?" He was sure he was smiling like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. She hadn't lied to him.
She couldn't help but let a smile of her own slip out when she heard his familiar carefree lack of focus slowly creep back into his voice, and this time she let herself indulged in a small eye roll.
"Well," she said, her smile turning sly as she seductively began to toy with a strand of his hair. "That's not very fair I had to get shot and then ignored before I got to hear it from you." She bit her lip. "You might need to try a little harder before you get to hear it from me."
He let a boyish grin slip out and she knew in that instant he was back to his old self. He leaned forward and huskily whispered in her ear, "Oh I'll get you to say it." Without giving her a second's notice, he expertly flipped them over again but this time he made no move to put any space between them. She let out a low moan as she felt the weight of his body press against her, "but it won't be hard to do." She shivered as she felt his hot breath hit the delicate skin of her neck.
Slowly she leaned up and pressed her lips to his for a brief second before whispering against them, "prove it."
She saw the familiar glint flash through his eyes and knew exactly what she had just initiated. She had challenged him and seconds after their lips came crashing together she had a feeling that he might just be right for once.
From that point on words became unnecessary, along with their remainder of their clothing. Now it was all about feeling skin on skin, hearing soft sounds that escaped from the others lips, and the knowledge that this was finally happening. This was finally real. And as his lips made the slow and torturous journey down the length of her body she could help but think that for once they were both definitely on the same page.