Firelight
Disclaimer: I still don't own it, and I am back to being a poor student with bills, so I'm even less worth suing.
AN: Third in a series that began with April's Fool. Reading the prior stories is helpful, though Surreality isn't as necessary as April's Fool. You need AF to get the back half of this
For CB, who has probably read this enough times to cause her eyes to cross, bless her.
They've made it all of about two steps, with her leading him when there is a streak of lightning so bright and close that it lights up the room for flash of an instant. Her first thought is, wow, that had to be close. And then the already dimly lit loft is plunged into near total darkness.
Castle is so close behind her that she hears him swear softly even though he hasn't raised his voice above a whisper. She finds herself with her lip pulled between her teeth again, and then without warning she's laughing. Softly at first, but it builds and builds until she's nearly doubled over with it, her hand still in his and pulling him forward.
"Terrible timing? This amuses you?" his voice is mostly dry, but she hears the hint of humor wrapped in it.
She can't quite bring the laughter under control, so there is still a bit lingering in her voice as she answers, "Not really, no. But, honestly? I knew you were good, Castle, but I didn't know you were this good. Do you have some sort of time machine hardwired into your brain? Volunteer for some science experiment because it looked cool?" She's breathless, but she doesn't care.
"Kate, what are you talking about?" he asks.
She can tell that he is a little put out, and on some level she doesn't really blame him because they were having a moment here, and then she fell into hysterics, and clearly he doesn't know why. That almost sets her on a fresh round of laughter and she has to bite her lip even harder to keep it in. Has to erect some little measure of the barrier she's been only just now successful at somewhat dismantling. Tries to pull it together, like she does when he's being ridiculous. It only half works, because really she's the one being ridiculous now.
"You don't see it?" She asks. "Castle, okay I was willing to accept the rain as an odd coincidence, maybe even a little bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy on my part. Either way, it would be easy to write it off to something. But you're going to throw in the blackout too? That's just weird. Someday, when we go to tell the story, no one's going to believe us."
He's so close behind her she can feel it when he shakes his head. "A lightning strike must've knocked out the power, I mean did you see that, it was ridiculously close. I don't see how anyone would have any trouble believing –"
When she cuts him off, she has no trouble resurrecting "Annoyed Beckett" in her voice, and she's pretty sure the eye roll is there even in the darkness. "Not the lightning strike, Castle. This, us now in a blackout. You and me? Jesus, Castle, page 105? It's like we wandered into your book! Throw in a good soaking from the rain, and it just makes the whole thing even crazier."
"Oh my God," Now she can hear him chuckling too. It starts her up again and she spins around slightly in the dark until her hands impact his chest. She kisses him. "You've got a hell of an imagination, Castle but I'm not sure even you could make this one up."
She feels rather than sees him smile against her lips. "I know, right? It's true, no one is going to believe this. But what a great story!"
Ah ha, there it is. She had wondered if she would ever hear that again at one point. That light gleeful happiness in his voice. Yes, there was boyish, even childlike Castle. She remembers a time she thought it could do nothing but annoy her, and yet she has to admit she kind of loves that a little bit. Okay, at the moment she kind of loves it a lot. Maybe it was the near loss. The seriousness of these last several days. But it warms her up, starts her up all over again and reminds her of where they just left off. Which is slightly insane, because there was was certainly nothing childlike about that. And yet.
"Not standing here all night Castle," she says under her breath she reaches out so that now she has both of his hands, still leading, and pulls him forward.
It's more difficult than she expects in the darkness, actually a lot more difficult than she expected. She's going slowly and trying to feel her way through the small pathway, aiming for his office, or the bedroom door, either or both. But she's gotten turned around somehow, doesn't quite realize it, until the back of one of her legs smacks into something hard.
She stops suddenly with the impact, and he pitches forward into her a little bit, as momentum continues to carry him forward. She puts her arm up to study him, hoping it's enough to keep them from going over. They right themselves a moment later, and it's then that she feels the sting of the impact on her leg.
This time it's she who swears, and not nearly as softly as he did earlier. She feels around with her free hand, trying to determine what the heck she just hit. "Kitchen island," she mutters. She must have gotten more turned around in the dark then she realized.
"Here," he says. "Let me lead, at least I know the layout little better." Carefully, he turns them so that he is now in front of her, and starts to pull her forward. It's only a step or two before there's a tilt downward, and then impact. He starts to fall back, and she has to pull against their joined hands to keep him from going over. It's still a near thing, and she finds herself leaning over him. "What the hell was that?" She asks, and even she is surprised at the edge of humor in her voice.
But she does, she feels it like a buzzing, perhaps a reaction to where they had been only moments ago, all of it still sitting there in her blood. She still feels as if the whole thing is unreal, and a little too good. She's still walking on a high of adrenaline and emotion. "We're going to kill ourselves, here," she says laughing a little. Yeah, she's just a little high on all of it.
But it's Castle who suddenly goes very still in their awkward embrace. He sets them upright carefully, then turns her so that her back is against kitchen island. "Kate just stay here." His voice has a serious edge, is a little rough with it.
"What's wrong," she asks, instantly picking up on the sudden change his mood.
"Nothing."
She doesn't believe it, because she can tell that he doesn't. But she's the one in the vulnerable position here, alone in his territory in the dark. And, after everything they've just gone through she isn't in the position to serve some sort of authority, able to challenge him on the sudden sweeping change in direction. So, she does what he tells her to and waits.
She hears his footsteps moving slowly away, but as he gets further from her even the outline of him melts away for a moment, to a point where she can't see anything happening at all. But then, he moves into the small patch of light created by the fire she hadn't realized was going in the fireplace. So that was where the small bit of light she had been perceiving was coming from. That was why they weren't sitting in total darkness. Somehow, she had missed that detail before, still far too wrapped up in the unreality of it all.
It's once she can finally make out his form again that she realizes he's making his way toward the window. With the added benefit of his proximity to the firelight, she can see the outline of him as he reaches out to pull back the curtain on his window in living room.
"Everything in the near distance is out," he says. "It was the lightning."
She's momentarily struck dumb, ready to forget her decision not to challenge him on anything tonight. Because, of course it was the lightning. What else would it have –
Oh. Because Maddox got away, and she almost died. And the fact that she doesn't particularly care about any of that right now, the fact that she just wants to be here doesn't change the fact that the guy got away. This is someone that's been driving for her, and he was worried. He was worried that maybe the blackout - geez, it didn't even occur to her.
When did he become the one with the cop-like instincts? she wonders. Some part of her is irrationally pleased at the idea that she is rubbing off on him. Some other part of her, wonders if her fresh resignation could possibly have led her to turn off her mind to these things so quickly. Or if it was just the cloud of it all, coming down on her. She had seen a lightning strike, and logically applied it to the blackout. It hadn't even occurred to her to look for possible danger. But there was Castle, back again. Her partner having her back. Even after everything. She smiles.
All right, so he was being irrational. He's going to ignore that. It's not difficult, not really. And it's hardly the first time, he knows Kate has to be used to it by now. Sure, this was more unintentional than it usually is, but still. Still, it bothers him a little. And he knows that it's probably done some damage to the mood. But he can't help it, because all it took was her presence here and everything came right back.
It's instinctual now, he's been doing it so long. It's as if he's hardwired to instinctively protect her. He hasn't felt quite like that since Alexis was a baby. He knows it's one of the things that probably drives her crazy, but he can't help himself. This still feels totally surreal. He still isn't quite convinced that she isn't in his head but right in front of him.
The darkness isn't doing much to assuage that feeling. He has the light of the fireplace now, but she is shrouded almost totally in darkness, there's a part of him that fears if he closes his eyes and opens them again she will be gone.
"Castle?" Her voice, questioning, comes to him from that dark corner where he left her. "You going to stay over there all night and leave me here alone?" Oh, that tone. Still teasing, like maybe he hasn't killed the mood after all. He keeps his arms out and low, feeling his way around the furniture as he works his way back toward her retracing his steps.
Finally, his reaching, questing fingers crush up against the soft warmth of her arm. Still solid and real. He's so amazed by that, his mouth goes dry. "Sorry, reflex," he said softly.
"Yeah, kind of surprised it wasn't my reflex," she says quietly.
And he hadn't thought about it, but now that she has said it, he is too. But something about hearing her say the word kill, it just flipped the switch in his brain, and he had to be certain this wasn't some sort of elaborate trick, some piece of the plot.
Of course, it sounds constructed when he thinks about it. Like something he might craft for one of his books. But then again, she had been right about how close this was to what he'd already written, so it wasn't a crazy question. At least, it didn't feel crazy to him.
"I think, it might be better to work our way to the living room," he says trying to be practical. Trying not to think of the fear, or any of the 15,000 other emotions swirling through him at this moment. "I've walked the path twice already, and I think we can get there without further injury."
Suddenly, he feels the soft weight of her leaning into him as she leans forward and rests her head on his shoulder, her hair brushing against his neck. "Think I can work with that," she says, her voice carrying more meaning than he would've expected as the words dance across the skin of his neck on her breath.
So much for practical, he guesses. Because that's all it takes: the feel of her, the sound of her, and suddenly it all tunnels in for him again. It's all her, sight may be gone, but the feel, even the scent is there. He brings his arms up and running his hands along her arms and upper shoulders to her neck, along the lines of it, and then slowly along her jawline.
It's only as he's leaning down to kiss her that he realizes she slightly shorter than she normally is. Wearing flats then. The thought trips idly through his mind that he likes it. Likes the small distance that he towers over her this way. Then his lips are on hers again and he's not thinking of anything at all.
When it breaks, he reluctantly gives them both a minute to come back to themselves. He's not sure if she needs it, but he knows he does. Then his hands find hers again in the darkness. "Come on," he says softly.
This time when he begins to lead her through the space of the loft, he's able to do it without injuring them both. Small miracle. For lack of a better plan, he guides them to the sofa, then turns them so that she can sit first.
She surprises him now, turns a bit towards the fireplace. "Is that?" she asks, her voice full of the question, as if the very idea amazes her.
"Yeah," he admits softly. "Second one, actually. I did the same thing the first night I got them." He wonders at first why it surprises her, but then as he thinks about it, he realizes that it surprises him too. Because he'd done plenty tonight trying to remove traces of her. But, still he had reached for this, almost without thinking.
There's a long moment where she doesn't turn back. And then, when she does she shaking her head and smiling. "When I bought them, I had meant for it to be silly. But it's -"
"Perfect." He says quietly. "It was the perfect thing, Kate, and it always was."
You could see how she had meant the coffee infused fire logs as a joke. Because it was, after all, their thing. But, to him, that was what made it not so much funny as wonderful. Maybe it was the timing, coming as it had right in the midst of all of the turmoil between them. Still, when he looks at it now, all he can see is the warmth, and the beauty, and the light. How much it reminds him of her. And not simply because of their inside joke about coffee.
Because really the coffee has always been his way of giving her comfort. And when she had sent him this gift, she had done the exact same thing. At exactly the right time.
He remembers that night, how he could see her there, hear her, almost feel her touch. He'd needed it so badly then. When he thought they'd never be the same again. And now, when he thought he'd never see her again.
But now they're here, in spite of everything. In the midst of a blackout, firelight dancing across her face. And he's so madly in love with her, it hurts. He reaches out, tentatively touches her hair.
She turns easily, willingly. And it spirals out of his control almost instantly. Suddenly, it's like the doorway all over again, fast and desperate like she might disappear. That's how it is when he makes love to Kate Beckett for the first time: fast and hungry in the dark by firelight.
When they make their way to his shower, still in darkness, it's to save the hot water in the tank that they go in together. But they need not have worried. Kate took such control of an unexpected round two that he's sure he wouldn't have noticed if the shower began producing ice.
But it is as they finally find their way to his bed that they give in to the slow, reverent give and take that Castle was sure would always mark the best night of his life.
And as they both finally drift off to sleep, the sight of Kate Beckett with firelight dancing in her eyes fills Castle's memory. And he smiles in his rapidly deepening sleep.
Because no dream could ever be this good.
