So this is the second chapter, it's the same story but from Beckett's POV, written in the same style as the first chapter.
Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it's not mine.
Where Have I Been All Your Life?
As you walk out of the elevator on the homicide floor of the 12th precinct you notice that your almost-ever-present-shadow is sitting slumped in his chair, apparently asleep. As you walked towards the desks' of detectives Esposito and Ryan you hear a feint mumbling coming from his direction; you chuckled to yourself as you realize that the famous author talks in his sleep. Oh, the opportunities that could arise, you think to yourself as you slowly and quietly make your way over to your own desk.
Sitting down at your desk to get a start on you paperwork for the current case, you decided that you will leave Castle to sleep, as if he was talking at all he might let out some piece of incriminating information that you could use at a later date. You are about ten minutes into your work when you heard Castle start to mumble something again. You lean closer, trying to catch the words.
"Where have you been all my life?" Your partner asks in a husky tone, before heaving a contented sigh; he flinches twice and startles awake, at which point you jump with so much force that your chair is propelled backwards on its wheels.
"Castle!" You exclaimed, slightly put out from being caught watching him sleep.
"Beckett?" Castle asks in confusion, looking around, as if confused as to where he is and why he was sleeping in the precinct.
"Castle?" You ask again. "Are you okay? You seemed to get quite a fright in your dream there?"
Castle doesn't answer your question; instead he stands up and moves over to you, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet and into his are so caught up in the dreamy stare he is giving you that you don't notice that you have an audience, or that you are dancing with no music. If you were in full control of your senses you would have pushed him away before he even started dancing with you, but your senses have taken leave and you react to everything he is doing, falling into that dream-like state with him.
Your body melds into his, as his right arm wraps around your body his hand landing on the small of your back; your left hand creeps its way up to his shoulder and around his neck pulling him closer, if that is even possible.
The room fades away as you close your eyes and in its place the famous 1940s club 'The Red Curtain' appears. The murder board has turned into the stage, a dark crimson curtain closed until the nights act is to start; the desks in the bullpen have become the dinning room and the break room has become the bar in the back. Castle holds you tight as you dance in the small space in front of the stage and when the imaginary music stops Castle brings his hand up to the side of your face and inches his lips closer to yours.
As soon as his lips touch yours reality comes crashing down around you and you are back in the precinct, pushing Castle away. As soon as you are out of his embrace you're missing it, but you aren't about to let him, or anyone else, know that.
You stalk towards the elevator and notice that they boys are standing at their desk. You turn as you jab the button to call for the elevator and tell them that if they even say one word about this to anyone you will bust them back down to traffic before they can even start to protest it. The elevator arrives and you step in, jabbing the ground floor button, then the close door button with as much force as the one outside the elevator, yet it feels like forever before the doors finally close.
When you step out of the elevator on the ground floor you are more than surprised to see Castle, bent over with his hands on knees gasping for breath. Though you instinctively know he is waiting for you, you don't so much as acknowledge his presence before walking straight past him and onto the street, heading towards your apartment. Usually you wouldn't walk home from work, but you feel like it would be good to walk off some of your frustration. As you walk you try to figure out the cause of your frustration. You try to tell yourself that you are frustrated at Castle and the fact that you had gotten carried away with him, in the precinct of all places, and that the boys had seen, but truth be told you are more frustrated with yourself.
You spent so much of your energy mulling over your relationship with Castle that you are startled when you arrived in front of your apartment building, and have no recollection of it happening. You pass through the front door and trudged up the stairs, foraging for your keys along the way. When you make it to the door you jam the key into the lock, open the door and slouch through it. You drop your bag on the floor and go to remove your coat when you remember that it is still at the precinct, so you just kicked off your shoes, move over to her couch and flop onto it.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
The insistent buzzing of your doorbell wakes you from the slight slumber you must have fallen into. Beckett looks at the time on your father's watch and became slightly disorientated as to why you are at home, not still at the precinct.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You know who is on the other side of your door, no one else you knew can announce their presence at your door quite like he can, and as you now know who is at your door you remember why you are home and let out a sigh. Apparently a loud one if his reaction was anything to go by.
"Beckett?" You heard his voice on the other side of the door, but don't answer it. A few moments later he tries again. "Kate?" He asks this time and you move from the couch towards your door. You never can resist it when he says your name like that.
You open the door and he is standing there with that little smile that always makes you heart melt holding out flowers for you. You move aside and gesture with your head that he should come in; he instantly complies and hands you the flowers. After taking them you fumble around in you kitchen looking for the vase you got the last time he arrived at your apartment with flowers, by the time you have turned around to face him he is sitting on your couch as if he belonged there and, oh, how you with he did. How you wish he belonged there. In your apartment. With you. But you know that before that can happen one of you has to give into these feelings that you know both of you have, and you know it has to be you, because he has already given in. Even if he doesn't know that you know. It's up to you; you need to let him know how you feel.
You can feel him staring at you, like you always can, and you still find it just a little creepy, just like you always have. You make one last attempt to arrange the flower and then leave them be, sitting on the counter. You join your partner on you couch, sitting close to him, but not to close.
You are fidgeting; you can't keep your hands still and you are looking down at them the whole time. It's like your hands have a mind of their own; they twist around each other, they start picking at the buttons on you blouse and then at the hem where the two edges meet. That is until a large, warm hand moves over yours.
Movement of your hands immediately stops and you look up straight into seeming never-ending orbs where you could get lost forever. You feel like he could be looking into your very soul, so you take a moment to assess yourself as well. It could be moments or hours later when he says your name in the same low, sultry, questioning tone he had use earlier while he was dreaming and you can't help yourself any longer.
As you slowly move your mouth towards his you notice that he isn't moving at all, it's all up to you, you need to be ready for this, and you finally are. When your lips finally touch it isn't with the heat and passion of the kiss you shared with him while saving Ryan and Esposito from Lockwood, but there is more of a slow burn, which you just know will lead to something. That something may not come today, it may not come within the next week; but you know it will come.
Please be nice and let me know what you think. Review = Love.
For readers of my other stories Life With Twins and Katherine Beckett, Lady of the House (Which is being renamed: The Castle That Was) new chapters should be up within the next couple of days now that I again have a computer that I actually enjoy typing on.