15 WEEKS
170 Days To Go (Timestamp: August 5, 2013)
He drifts into consciousness to the pressure of her lips, soft but insistent, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Her kiss is sloppy, one of her arms draped over his chest, her hand curved around his neck, fingers digging into his spine. His heart thunders, the curl of want hot in his abdomen and he drinks her in, sucks her into his mouth greedily, god he's missed this, tasting her sweetness; love and want on her tongue.
Her leg is draped over his hips, the hot feel of her pelvis pressed against his thigh, rubbing up and down and she moans into his mouth. He drags her closer, further into him, can't feel her close enough, Kate Kate Kate- and then awareness jolts him; his eyes spring open. Suddenly he's fully awake and shit no, they can't. They can't do this.
"Kate," he murmurs against her lips, nudges his nose into her cheek but her eyes are still closed, her movements into him insistent but unmistakably slack. She's mostly asleep, unaware, purely instinctual in her need for him.
He nudges her again, more insistent this time, tries to still her against him and she wiggles in his grasp, murmurs a low 'I want you' while she roots for his mouth. And it aches, deep inside his chest, to have to turn her down, to not be able to touch her, give her the pleasure and release she is seeking with him. God he wants her too but they can't.
He holds her around her upper arms, stills her advances. "Kate."
Her eyes spring open, dark and aroused and surprised. "Castle," she gasps and then she pulls away quickly, drops onto her back on the mattress, an arm slung over her eyes. "'m sorry."
"No, no," he grasps for her other hand, laces their fingers together. "Don't… I…" But he doesn't know what to say. She breathes harshly, her chest rising and falling, her breasts rounded and enticing under her t-shirt and the arousal still hums through his blood unrelentingly.
She drops the arm off her eyes, slowly rolls onto her side and faces him. Her eyes are dark and serious as she skates her hand over to his hip, dipping a finger underneath the waistband. "I could…" She presses her lips together for a moment, gazes up at him while her hand wanders. "At least for you."
"No." He grabs her wrist, stills her hand while he shakes his head. "No, Kate. We're in this together." She swallows hard but then she nods, understanding and appreciation shimmering in her eyes. She runs her hand up over his chest instead, then cradles her palm around his cheek. Her touches so tender that it clogs his throat.
"It's just… I miss your touch," she admits quietly. "Except when you massage my muscles, you barely ever touch me."
Oh Kate. The trace of hurt in her voice is unmistakable and it slays him deep inside; it's the last thing he wanted but he guesses it's true, he's just been so careful, curbing his instincts, his ever-present want for her; tried not to tease her. He laces his arm around her back, tugs her closer. "I didn't want to make it harder for you," he explains solemnly.
She nods, skates her thumb over his lip before she presses a quick, soft kiss against the corner of his mouth and then she twists in his embrace, lies on her back again within the embrace of his arm. She arches her lower back, shifts her hips, restless against the mattress.
"It's just… I feel so good now. I have all this energy, and I'm restless and excited and happy but I just have to sit here and that's okay, I'll do it all but Castle," here she finally shifts her face back to his, her darkened eyes searing into him, glazed with lust and her fingers are clawing into the mattress edgily.
"I'm dying here; I can barely stand it, I want you all the time."
His heart leaps in his chest, loud and forlorn and aching, for her, with her. Didn't he read about this somewhere, increased libido and second trimester, but there is nothing they can do about it, leaving her to fight her instincts, her needs constantly. He wants to weep because he wants her too but even more so because he feels swamped with helplessness.
He trails his fingertips over the side of her face, down her jaw and to her chin, and then he kisses her, tenderly touches his lips to hers, and when he deepens the kiss he keeps it slow, calming. She arches into him, one arm draped around his shoulders but the rest of her body seems to slacken, sink into the mattress and then he knows what he can do.
"I'm here for you," he paints the words onto her lips, then trails a line of kisses over her cheekbones, her jaw. "Let me touch you."
Her eyes spring open but she nods, so full of trust that his stomach flip-flops. Even after all this time with her, he is still amazed at the depths of her trust in him; how she understands him.
He raises her sleep-shirt up and over her head, then pulls off the soft boxer shorts that she had appropriated from him and taken to sleep in, until she is completely naked, lying tumbled over the sheets, her skin virtually glowing within the dim New York City lights that invade his bedroom even at nighttime.
"You are so magnificently beautiful," he murmurs at the sight, taking in the familiarity and the now noticeable changes of her body. Her breasts fuller, the areolas larger, darkened. The slightly rounded curve of her belly. The faint thickening of her waistline, probably still invisible to anybody but him, so familiar with the shape and feel of her.
He wraps his hands around her waist, then rides his palms up her sides, his fingers skirting along the underside of her breasts but then back down to her stomach, around her navel, before he cradles his palm over her abdomen.
She shivers in syncopation with his touches, her eyes fluttering closed. He continues the journey of his hands down her thighs, her calves, then back up. Long strokes over her skin, adding slight pressure; his touches meant to calm, not arouse, and he can feel her body relaxing in increments, the tight thrum of arousal and restraint bleeding into the night.
He rubs along her arms, down to the underside of her wrists and back up, over her shoulders, her neck, knows that this will help disperse the blood flow from its concentrated pool to her midsection into all of her limbs. Her breathing calms under his ministrations, and he repeats his soothing motions down her body, smoothes over her ribs, her hips, down her thighs, calves, and back until he reaches her shoulders once more.
Kate's eyes stay closed, her breathing quiet and regular, he knows she's almost asleep once more. He nudges her softly; she rolls onto her side instinctually, and he spoons his body along her back, cradles an arm around her torso, his hand on her chest where he can feel her calm, reassuring heartbeat.
"We should go on a date tonight," he announces and she looks up from her iPad.
"Castle you know I can't go anywh…" She trails off mid-sentence, her head tilted, watching him observantly. He can't stop grinning at her, proud of his idea, his plan, bounces up and down on the heels of his feet.
A smile, almost a smirk blooms on her face and she sucks the corner of her mouth between her teeth, her lips pursed. A trademark Beckett look and damn if it doesn't make his stomach flutter instantly. "Okay," she agrees, raises a knowing eyebrow at him. "Will you take me in my stylish sweatpants?"
"Huh?" What's that got to do with…
"I don't have anything to wear, Castle." She mostly laughs at herself but he can hear the slight hum of frustration in her voice at the fact that she is still a captive of the loft. "All my bras are too tight already, and I can't button any of my pants."
Oh. He didn't realize… Guess she did put on a few more pounds by now; her curves slightly more rounded. He wonders… He could... "I'll handle it," he grins at her proudly, mulling over his burst of inspiration. "Leave it up to me."
He knocks on the bedroom door. "Kate?"
"Why are you knocking?" She laughs from the other side. Oh, true, guess he doesn't usually knock at his own room.
"Are you decent? I've got… company with me." He looks over at the woman next to him, who smiles back.
"Uhm..." He can practically hear her thinking in there; has to suppress a laugh. "Sure."
He swings open the door, beckons his guest to enter after him. "Kate, this is…"
"I'm Lynette." The diminutive, excessively well coifed blonde strides past him purposefully, heading right toward Kate, a hand outstretched in greeting. "I'm with 'A Pea in the Pod' maternity wear."
Kate shifts on the bed, adjusts from being curled on her side against her body pillow to a sitting position, looking startled for a moment as she shakes the woman's hand, but then she shifts her gaze back to him, a smile breaking over her face.
"Really, Castle?" She smirks. He winks at her. But really it's just the greatest, hottest store for maternity clothes, all the stars go there, he's researched it. The name of the place was just icing on the cake. He holds her gaze for long moments and her smile softens, melts into him and oh, she's so breathtaking, his blood tingles, his knees go wobbly.
Lynette clears her throat, startles him out of his trance. "Shall we get started?" She addresses Kate.
And then her entourage of assistants flies through the door, wheeling in three large clothes racks, setting them up before discreetly disappearing once more. Lynette shifts through one of the racks, pulls out a handful of hangers. "Let's start with the most vital part; fitting bras." She smiles knowingly at Kate, presenting a first set of items to her.
He shuffles on his feet, doesn't quite know what to do with himself and both women turn toward him, staring. Oh, that's a look. "I'll be… uhm… outside," he murmurs, then quickly makes his departure.
He picks her up at the door, just like a proper date, except it is at their bedroom door and he won't wait for her to get up and let him in. She smiles at him from her perch on the bed, tender and expectant and his heart leaps in his chest. She's so beautiful, glowing, really.
He steps close to her, hands her the single, long-stemmed red rose he's brought for her, and then he leans over, kisses her softly, tasting strawberry lip-gloss and Kate, her lips warm, her mouth entrancing.
"You ready to go?" He murmurs. She nods and he laces an arm around her back, the other under her knees, and lifts her up into his arms. She squeals in surprise, wraps her arms around his neck to hold on.
"Uff," he groans, "you really did gain weight," he teases her, grunts exaggeratedly.
She slaps his shoulder. "Jerk." But it holds no power when it's accompanied by her giggling. And oh, how he loves her like this, this Beckett that lets him pamper her sometimes, loves this playful, fun, amazing woman.
"You know," she switches tactics now, nuzzling her nose underneath his ear, her breath dancing along his skin, hot and enticing and he has to clench his legs to keep his knees from buckling. "I can walk a few steps…"
He shakes his head. "Not where we're going. No stairs, remember?" And then he carries her up to the rooftop.
"Dinner and a movie, my lady," he announces when he carries her through the metal door onto the roof.
He is a bit proud of himself for pulling all this off within a day; he's so relieved that the weather has been holding, the August heat having subsided, its remnants only glimmering in the air, leaving the night pleasant and comfortable. He really hopes she'll like it, and his stomach lurches nervously. Carefully letting her down, he keeps an arm around her waist while she stands up, looking around. He follows the sweep of her eyes over the rooftop terrace, trying to see how she would find it.
Her mouth is open, eyes wide, luminous and sparkling with the reflections from the strings of white lights he has strung around the balustrade of the terrace. He's set up a table with candles, her favorite Chinese take-out, now that she can enjoy it again without the nausea, and this fabulous non-alcoholic red wine he's found. Two cushioned lounge chairs are facing the large movie projector screen that he rented for the night.
She turns back toward him. "Castle, this is beautiful," she breathes the words, smiles blissfully while she deeply inhales the evening air. She has had to be mostly inside for the past weeks and he can practically see how the slight breeze invigorates her senses.
"You are beautiful." He sweeps his gaze up along her body, and she turns one full circle for him, showing off her dress. It's a midnight blue fabric that shimmers alluringly, draped over one shoulder while leaving the other bare, cinched underneath her breasts, then falls down fairly straight to just above her knees.
"Oh hey, look at this," she grins at him, then takes the fabric on her stomach between her fingertips and pulls it out straight. "It's got room to grow!" She giggles at the large dome that the dress now forms and he can't help it, feels almost overwhelmed by her and he swoops forward, cradles his palms around her face and kisses her, deep and intense, sipping at the happiness and love and excitement that is bursting from her mouth. She sinks into his arms, his kiss, fluid and warm and tantalizing and he can barely contain it, this burst of passion, the depth of his feelings, and "I love you, I love you Kate," he urges the words into her mouth.
She trails her fingers down his cheek, his neck, her touch so very tender. "I love you too." Then she wraps her arms around him, snuggles tightly into his embrace and he holds her for long moments, silently, soaking her in.
"Come on," he finally nudges her, a little worried that "you need to sit back down."
"Wait," she stops him, her palm against his chest, "not quite yet." She watches him closely, her eyes honest, her hand caressing up and down his chest, almost hypnotically.
"I just wanted to say…" She trails off, her lips tucked between her teeth for a moment but then she runs her hands up his shoulders, cradles his face between her palms. "Thank you. For being so wonderful with me, with all of this. You're amazing."
Warmth rushes through his blood, weakens his limbs, spreading such relief that he's doing this right, that he's good for her, to her. He and Meredith were never right for each other, but he was younger and stupid and he knows, he knows he wasn't as good to her as he should have been when they were having Alexis. He drops his forehead against Kate's.
"Anything for you, Kate."
o
Your growing baby now measures about 4 inches long, crown to rump, and weighs in at about 2 1/2 ounces – about the size of an apple. She's busy moving amniotic fluid through her nose and upper respiratory tract, which helps the primitive air sacs in her lungs begin to develop. Her legs are growing longer than her arms now, and she can move all of her joints and limbs. Your baby's bones are beginning to ossify, which means that if an x-ray was taken the skeleton would be visible. Although her eyelids are still fused shut, she can sense light. If you shine a flashlight at your tummy, for instance, she's likely to move away from the beam. There's not much for your baby to taste at this point, but she is forming taste buds. Your baby's skin is very thin, and his/her blood vessels can actually be seen through the skin. (babycenter dot com and American Pregnancy Association)
o