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"Uh, it's just some old Halloween costumes." Want me to put on a fashion show for you? As if he'd actually say that. Well, a couple of years ago, he would have, but he doesn't know where the line is anymore, and he's too damn messed up from watching her die to say anything that might cause a reaction he doesn't want from her. He'd pushed a couple of times, even touched her when he was only supposed to be looking at a needle mark. God, he wanted to touch her again.
"There are a lot of them. The space cowboy one, I remember. But these others? Why do you have so many?" The space cowboy one was friggin' hot. She wondered how the others looked on him.
"Never know when you might need a good costume." Well, there was really no good answer to that question for a grown man, was there? He smirked, knowing how silly his answer sounded.
"Mmm hmm. Because you just might need to go out looking like, who is this, Sherlock Holmes?"
"Yeah. I got that when we had that steampunk case. You should have seen all the stuff I didn't buy that day." He walked to her, and neither one of them seemed uncomfortable that they were standing together wearing only robes. And fuzzy socks.
She rolled her eyes, imagining all the crazy stuff he probably wanted to buy. "And this one?" She pointed at a black tee shirt that looked too small for him (or possibly just snug enough to pull against his muscles) and yellow rubber dish gloves clipped to the hanger.
"Homemade superhero costume."
She chuckled. "Is that how you knew so much about the underground vigilantes when we were looking for Lone Vengeance? You were in the group yourself?"
He grinned. "I plead the fifth, Detective."
"Oh, good grief. You didn't seriously go try to be a superhero, did you?"
"Seriously?" He was still smiling.
"Seriously." She looked worried, or incredulous, or amused; possibly all three combined.
"No. It was for an ongoing gag with a friend. We got bored during the TV writers' strike."
"What kind of person does that? Most people just started reading books, or spent more time with their families." He could be so surreal sometimes.
He continued grinning and shrugged.
She shook her head and continued perusing his collection. Mad scientist, WWI pilot, Stormtrooper, Dr. Who, some sort of creepy monster, scuba diver – "We could have used this earlier" - and the one that first grabbed her attention. She couldn't figure out what it was.
It was a black sweat suit with wires all over it and a small control box. "What's this? Some sort of robot?"
Rick's face positively lit up. "A robot's one of them." She cast a puzzled look. "Put it on."
"Why?"
"Just do it. Put it on." And he flipped the light switch down and shut the door.
"Castle, why'd you do that?"
"It glows. Do you have it on yet?" His voice sounded so eager, she couldn't help but want to do it. Besides, it was pitch dark, and he was a good six feet away.
"Hang on." She stepped into the pants, pulling them up under her robe. She slipped the robe from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. It was rather thrilling, knowing she was undressing with him right there, but unable to see her. "You better keep that light off."
"Of course." Of course, she didn't need to know how difficult it was to stand there, so close, knowing she was undressing, well, changing, right in front of him, without stepping closer just to touch her. And, of course, she really didn't need to know how well he could see in the dark, even if it was for only a second while he could just make out her bare back when she dropped the robe and pulled on the top. He worked his tongue to draw some moisture back into his mouth since it seemed to have gone dry.
"Okay. It's on. Now what?"
"Now, we turn it on." She heard him step closer but was still startled by how close he was. She felt his hand gently move on her hip, seeking the control box. He found it and pushed a button. Wires on her body lit up, revealing a robot in the full-length mirror at the end of his closet. "Like it?"
She nodded. "Kind of cool."
"Kind of? What? Okay, now, there's the skeleton." With another push of the button, she looked like a skeleton. "See, I've been trying to get you to eat more. You really could use some meat on those bones."
The reflection of the skeleton's arm raised up quickly as she swatted his chest.
"Now put your arms like this." He took her arms in his hands and put them up like she was surrendering. She was just as shocked as he was that she was letting him touch her like that. She was surrendering. He pushed the button, and she looked like she was on fire.
He took her wrists and made her flail around, quietly crying out in his girly voice, "Help, help, save me, Castle! I'm burning!"
She was smiling, but she was also hoping he couldn't feel how very warm she was getting. Burning indeed, especially since she could feel his breath on her neck and his fingers on her hip every time he went to push the button.
There were ten more light-up images on his suit that she was wearing. Several made her laugh. Several "needed" him to "help" her into position so the image would look its best. The last one, though, he claimed was his favorite. He pushed the button again.
She looked back into the mirror. "I'm... a naked woman."
A small step back and a heavy breath were his only responses. He was glad she couldn't see his face right then, because it was probably dark with disappointment and frustration.
She fully expected his to rebut with innuendo. But he'd been missing a lot of golden opportunities lately. Not in the funny way when he very animatedly held his tongue during the alien abduction case when she said, "Let's just stick it in and get it over with," but more like he just didn't find that game so fun anymore.
But she didn't want to lose that – it was so very them. So she'd picked up the slack with a whole lot more flirting and innuendo. She wasn't teasing anymore, though. She'd follow through one of these days. She was really working on getting there.
So she looked at the reflection and decided to lighten his mood. Or get him to flirt back. Anything to get him back – the him that didn't look lost anytime someone brought up Roy or her shooting. The him she fell for.
"What's the matter, Castle? Can't stand me being naked in the dark with you?"
She heard his little breath of a laugh.
"You're not naked, Kate. I wouldn't be all the way over here if you were."
Well, damn. Yeah, sometimes he did still make bold comments. But that was definitely not teasing.
"Hmm. So is that the last one? Or are we not done playing dress-up yet?"
"That's it." He was being very abrupt. He didn't sound playful at all anymore.
"So how do I turn this off?"
He could just turn the light back on so she could see the switch. But he just couldn't resist.
She was facing him with the cartoonish outline of a woman lit up on her, and he stepped up to her again. He stopped so much closer than he needed to be.
She could see the blue glow reflecting off of him, dimly illuminating his features. The dark blue of his robe made it practically invisible, but the V of his chest on up was lit so she could see how he tilted his head down to her. His hand slid down her side, reaching the control box. He looked like he was warring with a decision, and she knew exactly which decision that was. Because most of her wanted him to decide to cup the back of her head again and pull her into a kiss. She'd go for it. But she wouldn't initiate it. Not yet.
He could see her looking up at him, lips slightly parted. And damn did he want to kiss her. He was fairly certain she'd let him. She just let him touch her multiple times and didn't hurt him. But her gaze dropped, and she backed up a fraction of an inch. And he knew she wasn't ready yet. He switched the costume off, plunging them back into darkness, but didn't move his hand away.
"Come on," he said, barely above a whisper. She could feel his breath on her forehead. "Let's get some warm clothes on."
Please review! They're addictive like, well, like anything with Nathan Fillion in it.
More tomorrow!
