She cancels on him three times in one week. The first time she'd been in the middle of breaking a suspect-so close to nailing the bastard-and didn't want to lose the momentum, the little power high that kept her on her toes. The second time she'd been stumbling into a pair of jeans and a printed blouse when she got a call from Dispatch about a body drop.
The third time she was too exhausted, hadn't seen the inside of her bedroom in over 72 hours. She felt terrible about it, but she knew neither of them really wanted to deal with a sleep-deprived, overly snarky Beckett.
He calls her a few days later when she's on her way out to the M.E.'s office to look over some evidence.
"Hey, Castle," She mouths her location to a passing Ryan and Esposito as she steps onto the empty elevator car. "Still on for dinner tonight?"
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that."
She chuckles. "Your turn to cancel?"
He laughs. "No. Left my schedule wide open for this one, Beckett." It's a joke, she knows it, but it catches her a little off-guard, the stakes he's placed on this, the efforts he's made to make this happen.
Dinner between friends.
Her hand finds the wall, palm pressed tightly against it to steady herself.
"Still there?"
The phone is cradled between her ear and shoulder now, her sweaty palm slipping down the front of her face. "Yeah." She swallows. "Still here."
"Good." He pauses. "I was wondering how you felt about having dinner at the loft."
She nearly drops her phone. "At your apartment?" She manages to keep her voice to a low squeak.
If he notices, he doesn't say anything. "Yeah. I've got all the supplies to make us a little home-cooked meal. Mother and Alexis have theater tickets tonight, anyway, so it would just be the two of us."
She steps off the ground floor, her feet unusually wobbly in her stilettos. "I mean, if you have your heart set on it, I guess-"
"Great. I'll see you here at seven then."
And then the line goes dead.
Damn it, Castle.
A public dinner she can deal with. Other people around them, her defenses armed and ready at her side, untouchable in a place where he can't poke at her walls. No room for any boundaries to be crossed.
She'll only stay two hours at most. She has an early morning tomorrow.
Which is a lie, actually. She has tomorrow off.
But he doesn't need to know that.
She almost manages to slip out of the office without another Spanish Inquisition, but Lanie catches her at the last second, her short term memory catching up with her.
"You want me to come over tonight to pick out a hot little number for your date with Castle?"
Kate huffs out a breath, spinning on her heel. "It's not a date, Lanie."
"Mmm-hmm. If it's not a date, why are you so worked up about it?"
Lanie notices her hesitation, the way she pulls at her lip, the wringing of her hands. "Spill it, girl."
"He wants to have dinner at his place."
Lanie raises an eyebrow. "And?"
"And everything, Lanie. It's just supposed to be dinner."
"Kate. With the two of you, it's never going to be just dinner. And the sooner you realize that, the easier this will be for both of you."
She sighs, shaking her head. Maybe she should just call the whole thing off, go back to being strangers who used to know each other. Acquaintances. Mutual admirers of each other's work.
Even if the thought makes her a little nauseous.
"You're scared, aren't you?"
Kate's head snaps up, her response almost just as swift. "No."
Lanie ignores the lie. "You wanna talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about." She turns to leave, a hand on the door before she flips back briefly. "I'll call you," she says softly. Lanie means well, her lovely best friend, but Kate's no good at this. Not when she can't even verbalize everything she's feeling to herselfyet, let alone another person.
Lanie smiles. No harm done. "Have a good time, sweetie."
She hitches out a little sigh of relief and nods. "Thanks."
She makes it out of the precinct ahead of schedule, enough time to go home and shower before dinner.
She forces herself into a pair of jeans and a red sweater before she allows herself to overthink it and slip into a dress.
Maybe it isjust dinner.
God. Shut up, Kate.
Even after her shower, her hair is limp and awkward around her face, so she tosses it up into a ponytail, whipping her bangs down over her eyes. Better.
She slides on a bit of mascara and lip gloss before she's out the door, her leather jacket wrapped around her frame, suede boots adorning her feet.
He opens the door with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, an apron wrapped around his waist, a thousand watt smile across his mouth. He pulls her into a loose, one-armed hug, his delicious cologne wafting through her nose, muddling her senses.
Get it together, Beckett.
"Can I take your coat?" he asks as she follows him in, shutting the door behind her.
"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." She shrugs it off and hands it to him, a little awkward in the doorway as he moves to the coat closet.
"Dinner smells heavenly, Castle," she says softly, her stomach growling as the simmering pasta sauce assaults her senses.
He reappears, bright-eyed and pleased with her compliment. "Should be ready in a few minutes," he promises, leading her into the kitchen. She leans her hip against the island as he settles himself in front of the stove, lifting a wooden spoonful of sauce to his lips.
"Mmmm," he moans, licking his lips. He holds it out to her, cupping the air just below it. "Wanna try it?"
She hesitates only a second before she leans forward and wraps her lips around the utensil, swiping her tongue along the rim. Delicious.
"It's fantastic," she hums, flicking her eyes away from his darkening gaze.
She hasn't even been here five minutes yet.
Her cheeks start to flame as his gaze lingers just a little too long, a little too intense. He turns back to the stove, flicking the knob off.
"Would you mind opening the wine?" he asks, nudging his head toward the single bottle on the counter.
She freezes, her fingers frozen in a curl against the edge of the table. She switches the banter on after she gets herself together, a few seconds too long. "Didn't have you pegged as the type to drink an entire bottle of wine with dinner, Castle."
"Is that your thinly-veiled attempt at telling me you're not having any?" he asks, throwing her a look over her shoulder.
She rolls her eyes. "I'll just stick with water."
"Why? Don't you have the day off tomorrow?" He pulls down a few plates from the cupboard.
She frowns. "When did I tell you that?"
He spins back to her, silverware in hand. "When we made plans the last time. You said Ryan and Esposito were on call."
Damn, she did.
Well, there goes any excuse she had to duck out early.
"But, hey. If you don't want any-" Oh, no. She's gonna need at least a couple of glasses to make it through this night with him. Just a little something to take the edge off.
Assuming she doesn't do anything stupid.
"Just hand me the bottle, Castle."
Thoughts?
Liv