A/N: For those of you following Giving up, Giving in, Ive kind of "given up" (pun not intended) on that story. I wrote myself into a place where I cant get out easily. I am open how ever to an idea on where to take it. I had an idea but all the ideas i come one with end up with one of them hovering over the other in a cliche hospital setting. If you have any ideas. let me know, please. I am open to having a co-writer on that story.
Anyway, this fic will only be about 6 or maybe 7 chapters long.
Disclaimer: Still not mine, but i can still dream.
Having packed up all of her books, which took much less time than originally planned, they moved over to her kitchen and made quick work of it, deciding to just throw away the already spoiled food and other boxes of meals that were quick to make out of a box. They moved into the bed room, and Castle stood at the thresh hold with his hands on his hips, looking back and forth, from wall to wall.
"You know, some of the best night of my life were in this room." He stated proudly.
"Yeah, mine too." She said, coming up from behind to stand to his left with her arms crossed.
"So, what do you need out of here?" He asked, taking a few more slow steps forward.
"Well, my clothes, the stuff out of my bathroom, and there are a few personal things I need."
"I'll let you deal with the bathroom stuff. I learned after two marriages that there is a reason for two sinks in the bathroom." He said, coming to face her.
"Alright, why don't you strip the bed. Goodwill will be here after everything is done tomorrow to pick it up." She reminded, fumbling in her closet for the thick plastic bag that held the bedding. She handed him the crumpled and noisy piece of plastic and he went about the annoying job of trying to fit the abnormally thick comforter he had bought her after too many nights spent here into the bag. After the comforter was done, he grabbed the thin sheet that was left and tore it from the bed, leaving it strewn out on the floor in a messy pile. He bent down to pick it up when something under the bed caught her eye. It was rather fuzzy and plush. Tossing the task at hand aside for now, he bend down even further to get a better look. Still not able to completely make out the object hidden under the darkness that loomed under her bed, he got on his knees and reached for it, until the object was reachable by his fingertips alone. With a firm tug, he pulled it free.
It was a small, worn, and ratty stuffed mouse. It had stitching on its right arm, and had a goofy smile adorning its plush face. He flipped it over a couple times, taking note of all the small rips and stitching's that had been made. He clasped the tag on the stuffed animals foot between his fingers to read it. 'Katie', with the K backwards. She must have been 3 or 4 when she got this.
"I see you found mousey." Kate's voice came to his right. The sound of shampoo bottles being thrown into a basket could be heard, but his attention remained on the stuffed mouse until her words registered in his brain.
"Uh, yeah. Mousey?" Castle asked, turning a wondering look to Kate.
"Didn't you have a favorite G.I. Joe or something as a kid that you always used to carry around with you?" She asked, prancing up next to him.
"Well, yeah, every one did. I had an old batman blanket I used to sleep in. But I just assumed that everyone lost their special thing." He thought outwardly.
"Just because you weren't responsible with your toys doesn't mean I was too." She said, coming closer to grab the mouse's ear and pull it into the cradle of her hands. She stared at it with a soft expression for a long moment, every once in a while giving it a squeeze.
"So?" He pondered.
"I was three. I got him as a Christmas present. I used to carry him every where I went. I still remember when his arm got torn off by accident." She ran her finger along the stitching on the arm. "I ran to my mom bawling, saying 'Mommy, mommy! Mousey's hurt, can you fix him?', every time he got torn, she would fix him. I've had him ever since. I even took him to Stanford with me. I even stuffed him on my carry on on the flight out when I went abroad for a semester. I used to get teased about it. After my mom died, part of my couldn't stand to look at him anymore. It would just remind me that no matter how much you try to fix something, everything goes away eventually. But I couldn't get rid of him. As stupid and cheesy as this sounds, he's always been there for me."
His heart was warmed by her story. The simple fact that she had kept a very dear child hood friend around for so long was endearing.
"I was hoping to pass it on to my daughter when she was ready, if I ever... well," she let the sentence fall short. He only proposed two days ago.
"I'm sure she will love it as much as you do." He finished for her as he came up in front of her and ran a soft hand down her arm.
A small, evil smirk formed on her lips and her eyes flicked up to meet his eyes, that now had a small glint of fear in them. She lifted the stuffed mouse up to her ear and put on a face to make it look like she was listening
"What's that, Mousey?" She flicked her eyes back to Castle. "You want Castle to give you a kiss?" She said, in a voice that mocked astonishment.
"Kate, that thing has been under your bed for who knows how long." He said, trying to get out of it.
"Oh, come on. You know you want to. " She persisted, lifting the mouse up to where it was inches from his face and began to wave it from side to side. With her lips puckered out she began again, in an amusing voice that made him giggle, despite his own consent not to. "Give him a kiss."
With a silent sigh, he met her eyes, glittering with amusement, and placed a small, pretend kiss on the stuffed animals forehead. "Aww, see! It wasn't that bad?" She was met with an accusing smirk. With a small gasp, she returned her attention back to the mouse. "What's that, Mousey?" She returned the mouse back up to her ear. "You think I should? No! Really? Ooooookay."
With the evil smirk returning to her face, all Castle could do now was brace himself. She quickly leaned up and placed a hard but brief kiss on his lips. "Mousey says you're a good kisser." She said, stepping a pace closer.
"Well, as flattered as I am, Mousey there doesn't have much kissing ability. But you on the other hand," he snaked his arms around her mid section to squeeze the mouse between the two of them, "are a fantastic kisser."
She leaned up briefly to place a small kiss on his slightly ajar lips, and began to speak, "Well, practice does make perfect."
A/N:This one wasn't as long as I originally thought it would be when i started it, but I am pleased with the way it turned out. And for your information, i based the whole stuffed mouse thing on a stuffed mouse i had when i was a kid, stupid cat tore of the arm when i was 5, and my mother sewed it back on. So i did have a little experience with this. Anyway, REVIEW! I like to know what you guys think, good or bad.
