This is just a little moment between Castle and Beckett set sometime after the season 3 finale.
I don't own anything Castle related etc.
Hope you enjoy this!
It is quiet in the loft. The movie ended some time ago, and Beckett felt Castle shift forwards to reach the controls to shut off the TV. She is lying with her head pillowed in his lap; he is relaxing back into the cushions and gently stroking her hair out of her face. She knows he thinks she's asleep.
His hand moves smoothly over her temples, his fingertips moving the strands of hair away from her eyes and sweeping them behind her ear, his palm moving down over her neck and coming to rest on the place it meets her shoulder, pausing, and then travelling back up to her hairline again. She doesn't know how long he has been doing it for but she doesn't want him to stop, and she hasn't moved a muscle since he started.
It is a comforting movement. Gentle, familial, friendly. Chaste.
Except they both know it is anything but. The goosebumps threatening to rise over her skin tell a different story.
She hears him sigh and she knows there is a change, a shift coming in their status quo. For the last few months it has all been about her. Her need to heal physically and emotionally. Her need to get over the breakup with Josh, the loss of her Captain, and her need to build the strength to delve back into her mother's case once more. But tonight, tonight it is about him.
It has been too long since she considered, really considered what he must be feeling. She knows that she remembers his words correctly, that what he uttered as she lay in his arms bleeding was not a dream. She knows he has suffered as much as she has. Perhaps not physically, but painfully nonetheless. For a man she had pegged as a playboy he has certainly been the victim of his own selflessness.
She knows the hand moving across her hair is the touch of a lover.
And that is why when he gently lifts her head to move her off his lap so he can stand, she stands with him instead of feigning sleep and letting him leave her there covered with the throw again. It is why she doesn't say a word when he leans over and bolts the door with a finality that brooks no argument. It is why she utters no protest when he takes her by the hand and leads her up the stairs; not to the guest room as usual, but to his own bedroom. It is why she allows him to guide her to bed.
It is why when she feels him lie down behind her, bury his face in her hair and slide an arm round her waist, she does nothing except cover the hand resting on her stomach with her own.
It's not about her anymore. It's not even about him.
It's about them.
So – what did you think? I'm in the UK so no season 4 until January – I need reviews to get me through until then!