Here's another one! Kindly let me know what you think.
Almost, almost is never enough
So close to being in love
If I would have known that you wanted me
The way I wanted you
Then maybe we wouldn't be two worlds apart
But right here in each other's arms
- Ariana Grande, Almost is Never Enough
They are in a bathroom.
A family bathroom judging by the large empty space and the diaper changing station on the far wall. Kate is leaning against the door with her eyes cast downwards and he wonders what she sees. He gives her a moment, choosing to walk towards the mirror and check his face. Yeah, it's pretty terrifying. He hears Kate take a deep breath and then he catches her eyes in the mirror. They are dark and clouded, and he decides that he doesn't like it. He makes that growly face hoping to get a small smile out of her like he did in the car.
She doesn't disappoint.
But her smile is short-lived and it slides off her face to be replaced by something solemn. She pushes off the door and he waits for her to come to him as though he is coaxing a frightened kitten out from a corner. Reaching behind him, she flips down the toilet seat cover and tells him, "Sit."
Castle fixes her with an incredulous look. When she doesn't back down, he looks at the toilet and then back at her. He repeats the gesture because really? He doesn't want to be a snob but he is wearing a thousand dollar suit. And that? That is a toilet. Just, no.
Beckett rolls her eyes at his pretentious objection. She turns around to grab a few paper towels and lays them on the lid. He groans his reluctance and makes a show of gingerly sitting on the edge of the lid, trying to minimize contact. She looms over him, mildly amused and her grin widens marginally when he pouts at her. He used to think that she liked his childish side; apparently he wasn't wrong.
Perhaps that isn't the only thing he is not wrong about. His hopeful heart flutters with the thought. The silly thing.
She turns on the tap to soak a paper towel, wringing it out with both hands before turning back to him. Her fingers gently peel the mask off the side of this face and it comes off easily thanks to the thin layer of cold cream she helped him put on earlier. She works slowly and it is as if she needs this, this methodical exercise. Any level of control. So he sits there on the edge of the toilet and lets her carefully scrub the costume makeup off his cheeks and never once complains that it is hand soap that she is using on his face.
He waits for her for what seems like hours as she gently strokes his face clean. After what could not be any longer than a few minutes, she stalls on a spot just under his jaw and she lets out a light cough, a little nervous, a lot insecure. Nothing like the Beckett he thought he knew.
"Um…," she coughs again, purposefully avoiding his eyes. "So, uh, h-how is Alexis's speech coming along?"
Castle blinks. Once, then twice. When he doesn't say anything, she flicks her gaze to him for a fraction of a second before looking back at a spot on his face. "I thought, uh, I was told that she made valedictorian at school. That means that she has to give a speech, right?" she continues, each word more unsure than the last. He is almost impressed by how her hands are so steady when compared to the near stutter of her voice.
"Uh yeah," he says when he finally finds his voice, "she's getting really nervous about it, trying to quote all great speakers in history."
Beckett hums her response and he watches as she struggles to say something more but it never makes it past her lips. He cannot remember the last time it was so awkward. That just being with her, being next to her and sharing her space wasn't enough. Then again, for the last few weeks when things got uncomfortable, he just left. And now that he is forced to stay he is here to witness what he has left behind. She barely hides it anymore either, the disappointment in her face as he walks away from her, the phantom words that she cannot seem to voice and yet they still colour her face.
"Wait, how did you know ―?"
"Lanie," she cuts him off with a sheepish smile. He doesn't ask if Lanie offered the information or if Kate actually asked. Either way, he cannot help the feeling of warmth that fills his veins at this woman's genuine concern and interest for his daughter. She turns away from him to get a fresh paper towel and soaks it in the sink before turning back to him. She pauses for a moment before looking up to stare at the wall behind him, purposefully avoiding his eyes and says, "I'll try to finish up quicker. Alexis is probably wondering where you are and I shouldn't have asked you to come. You don't need to be here."
He scrunches his eyebrows, confused at her words. He is the one who offered to be here in the first place. So he tells her again, "No one should be alone at a time like this, Kate."
She gives him a dry laugh, so forced that it hurts his heart to hear it. "I've been alone for a while now, Castle."
He flinches. He can almost hear it in her voice, the quiet question of why did you leave me alone? The silent accusation smarts even more knowing that her solitude precedes their time together.
So he tries and tells her, "I'm here now," but even as he says it he knows it falls short of everything he wishes he could say.
Only then does she look at him. Her hazel eyes shine like a little girl lost and he sees in the way that she tightens her hold on the wet paper towel. How much she is holding back. But her voice cuts when she asks, "Why?"
Why? Why is she alone? Why is he here?
"Why are you suddenly here when you've been in and out of the precinct for the last few weeks like you've found a new place to play? And then you only come back to me when you remember you've forgotten something and want to pick it up before leaving me all over again."
A new place to play. It brings him back to their last real fight almost a year ago when she told him that her life was not his own personal jungle gym. That he wasn't welcome to play there. That she wasn't his. Was it so wrong for him to go looking somewhere else when he finally understands that he's not wanted? He drops his head and answers honestly, "Because you didn't want me there."
All he can hear is her breathing as he waits for her to leave. Because that is what she does, right? She runs when things get serious. She runs and he chases. Only recently, he ran out of fuel and realized that he will never catch up.
He nearly jumps when he feels her fingers on his chin as she tilts his head up and begins to gently rub away the powder from under his eyes. He stares at her face, completely still at her fingertips. Her expression is soft and dejected and a little confused, but there is still that steely determination in her big doe eyes when she breaths, "I always want you here, Rick."
Castle lets out a shaky breath. Her expression tender, her eyes shining with something he doesn't dare to name. This woman is a living, breathing contradiction and he cannot decide if she is saying what she means or if he is only listening to what he wants to hear. Because his half of their relationship is defined by misunderstandings and mixed messages, and his absolute naivety when it comes to this woman he cannot help yearning for. But now, sitting on the edge of a toilet seat lid with her nestled between the bracket of his thighs, her hands on his face and her thumb stroking his cheek in what can only be called a caress, it feels like they are once again on the precipice of something he has been ready for a while now.
Kate has always been the wild card, the variable in the equation of them.
Is she ready?
She lets her finger wander under the guise of cleaning off the last bit of paint when really, she was done a while ago. They are having a moment, she's sure of it, and she remembers the last time they were at this standstill she let him get away.
Not this time.
She brushes her fingers high along his cheekbones, watches his gaze flutter across her face and wonders how she ever thought she could ever move on from those warm cerulean eyes.
She waits, hoping for the right words to come to her. Anything to make him wrap his arms around her waist, to lace his fingers behind her back and to quash the space between them until there is nothing but the thin fabric of their shirts. But she has never been good with words and his hands stay stubbornly rested on his lap. She has tried being the concerned friend (after the bombing case), the hard cop (with Slaughter), and even the jealous girlfriend that she doesn't deserve to be (which she is not overly proud of) but the wedge he put between them remains steadfast.
She wets her lips, feeling some small satisfaction when his eyes track the movement of her tongue along the seam of her mouth, and prepares herself for the worst. She stutters, her mouth opening and closing without a sound and she flushes, partly in frustration but mostly because she must look like a fish out of water, gaping like an idiot. Spit it out, Beckett.
"Castle," she starts and she hopes that the look on his face is something akin to the longing on hers because she is walking into this blind with her heart on her sleeve. "Rick, I―"
There is a muffle from outside the door that stops her. Listening harder, she hears a feminine voice call out again, "Family of Dr. Benjamin Reid?" and she drops her chin to her chest, defeated. She hears Castle's heavy sigh and their history of being interrupted in the middle of every important conversation has her chuckling to herself. When will they ever catch a break? Taking a deep breath, she schools her face of the desperate yearning, steels herself for what waits beyond the door, and pulls herself away from the warmth of his body.
When they reach the door, Kate hesitates, unwilling to let go of the progress they have made in this little family bathroom (and no, the symbolism isn't lost on her). She spins on her heels, finds him barely step away and reaches out to pick some invisible piece of lint off his lapel. Keeping him close, she tells him, "We'll finish this later."
She waits for him to nod, which he does eventually, before turning around and walking out the door.