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At home here
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Any of the scenes from the show that involved them 'being together' are altered to fit in with the storyline- not being together-
the rest of the episode (and the characters) work around this story unchanged.
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Kate sinks a little further into the seat of the restaurant. Her body has gradually become relaxed as the night has progressed. The tension that she'd originally felt has subsided, not completely, but to her surprise, dinner with Meredith has at least been… tolerable, even a little fun.
Although the two glasses of white wine that accompanied dinner could be the contributing factor here.
"So as I was saying, Kate, the blonde next to me had no chance of getting the part, yet still, you should have heard her rage at the injustice of it all. Was really quite humorous, for me." Meredith finishes another in-depth story about her glamorous days in LA, adding in a laugh that is loud enough to attract the attention of those surrounding them and Kate is surprised when she joins in with a soft chuckle of her own.
Lifting a finger and smiling at the passing waiter, she takes her laugh as a sign that one more glass of wine is only going to help keep the harmony between the two of them, after all, she will be catching a cab back to the loft with Meredith, back to Castle's, back to Castle's bed. Hell, maybe she should order two glasses, a bit of Dutch courage could actually be helpful.
"So… Ka-te." The way Meredith holds and drags out the last syllable of her name has her sitting up straighter. This sounds ominous.
"How long has it been for you and Rick?"
"Been?"
"You know, together. Last time I was here, things were very different." Meredith smirks, an all knowing grin that pulls at her lips and Kate smothers the panic her question has induced. She knew it was coming; she just needs to remember to keep it vague.
"Well, it has been a long time since your last visit. And you know how these things happen, one moment you're friends and the next you're…" Not actually involved with your partner but are stuck pretending to be lest his ex-wife think she has some kind of chance at a reconciliation. "Together in other ways."
"Oh. Of course, organically and all that."
Kate nods and employs a less is better approach with her silence.
"And really, Kate, once you have had the man, it's not like you could ever really stop. Not willingly at least. You two are good together?" Again, Meredith chuckles and while a part of her thinks she should leave the actress' comment alone, she is finding Castle's ex-wife's dynamic nature hard to ignore.
"Regardless of how good it is, I'm hardly going to kiss and tell, Meredith." Not that there is anything to kiss and tell about, unless she counts her imagination. Although Meredith does know and this could be a good time to get some insider information but really, after having a thought like that, pushing that third glass of wine away is probably best. She hardly wants to hear what Castle is like from her.
"Yes, kissing and telling is wrong." The dramatic wink that accompanies Meredith's words sets off another giggle and Kate thinks she understands Castle a little more after tonight, his ex-wife does have a personality that you can't help but become swept up by.
"Kissing and telling is very wrong, no matter how good, Meredith." Kate returns a wink of her own and stands abruptly; this is probably a sign that they should get going, before she begins agreeing with anything else from the red-head's mouth. "It's late, we should…"
"Of course, Kate. You must be eager to get back. Someone is undoubtedly awaiting your return. Rick is most likely pacing up and down the loft, stressing over our night together. Ohhhh, that gives me an idea!"
He trails after her, his mouth remaining wide open in astonishment after hearing that laughter, that sound, erupt from his partner; the night seems to have gone well for them, which, he concludes is only bad news for him.
Pulling forth every ounce of bravery that exists within himself, he rounds the corner to find her standing in front of his dresser, tiredly eyeing him through the mirror, and he comes to a stop in the doorway. His heart and his chances of ever getting past the wall that surrounds her are evaporating with one look.
His has to stand tall, take it like a man, take the consequences that come with having them under the same roof, and he asks, "Okay, what did she say about me?"
Beckett leans forward, lips firmly pressed together as if contemplating his demise, or worse, her escape.
"Ugh, c'mon. I get it. I get it. I mishandled this whole thing. But believe me, I am sorry. Please? Tell me what Meredith said. Is it anything I need to be worried about?"
She maintains her stare, holds onto the silence before pivoting on the spot, taking a hesitant step forward.
"Relax, Castle. It was fine. The night was fine. And I kept our cover, kept your little charade going."
"I wasn't worried about that. I was worried-" His eyes close as does his mouth. How can he explain that his greatest fear is that she will see all the parts of him, and turn, walk away? He still has things that he keeps hidden, protected, things that are concealed with a wise crack, a nicely timed pun.
What if his ex-wife twists something from his past and it leaves Kate re-evaluating him.
Them.
"Hey, Castle." He internally debates the benefits of standing before her, his eyes closed, until she tires and drifts off to bed, but unexpectedly the soft edge of his cheekbone is caressed. The warmth of her fingers glide up until they flutter past the shell of his ear and his soul stutters as she whispers, "There's nothing she could say that would change the man that you are. The man that I…"
He senses her hand fall to her side as his eyes flicker, widening as he takes in the fact that she is standing before him, no more than a foot away and he desperately wants, needs, her to finish the end of that sentence.
But then again, maybe she doesn't have to.
He looks at her, truly looks for the first time in far too many months; his gaze sliding over the tug that lifts her exquisite lips, the smile that dances in the corner of her mouth as her tongue darts to smooth the plump surface. Moving up, his eyes lock with hers, and while her tentativeness bleeds through, is no doubt reflected in the sheen that coats his irises he sees something else, something more.
He sees what could be love.
Ever since that day where their secrets and mistruths had all come to the surface, their apologies and uncertain forgiveness shared, he has been willing to take a step back, wait for their old equilibrium to return. And while it never has - somehow it has become as lost as they are - he realizes for the first time, maybe instead of trying to recapture the past he needs to write them a new future, not for tomorrow, or next month, but now.
Right now.
Because maybe she wants this just as much as he does.
Lifting a hand, he goes painstakingly slow, gives her a chance to back away in case he's managed to read her completely wrong, yet as his fingers find themselves sliding through her loose curls, cupping the side of her head, she does the opposite,
It's only the smallest of tilts, the softest of sighs, but they are all that he needs, all the encouragement he requires to move his mouth toward her own.
The weight of expectation, the heaviness that this will be their first kiss, their first real kiss, has him moving gradually. The anticipation and the importance that comes with this moment, the moment that their lips will touch for the first real time, has the clock coming to a halt. He can hear the thump as each beat of his heart squeezes his blood cells through his body, he can feel Kate's pulse escalate under his palm as he continues to hold her steady.
And it is this that holds him steady.
Every synapse of his brain records every second; he inhales deeply, noting what it is to be this close to her. Her scent is flooding his system, the hint of the precinct and of the restaurant clings to her clothes, but mainly it is the intoxicating aroma that is her.
The woman that he loves.
His lips reach their nirvana, touch and slide against her mouth, her body shifting and rising up to meet him, and he finds home.
Until, like a wrecking ball, the moment is shattered as the silence is destroyed by the incessant ringing of her phone; the long shrill beat that starts and continues, then pauses before beginning once more.
Stepping back, her cheeks flushed red in what he can only hope is desire for him and irritation over the interruption, she checks the screen, a single curse uttered between the phone's annoying echo.
Twisting away, her head dips down as she barks down the line, "Beckett." And he is left standing, staring at the back of her head as his dream, the possibility of tonight being their step forward, is washed away as Ryan requests their immediate return to the precinct.
How do they go back to work now? How does he shut down the part of him that wants to rage against Ryan and her job, for blocking what never had a chance to start?
Yet as Beckett ends the call, turns to face him, her face guarded against an unknown entity, he realizes if they are ever going to be together, then being together after moments like this are going to be just as important as all the other times. They are partners after all.
"We'd better go, it sounds like it's our breakthrough."
And the smile that splashes across her features at his words makes him think that maybe not all is lost. Maybe the moment is merely on hiatus rather than actually stopped.
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Thank you to each and everyone of you that have left me love, my smile can be seen from space ;-)
xoxo
Thank you to those that fav and follow.
and
to Jo for answering weird questions, such as, how many glasses does it take to be ... ?
love ya xoxo
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Thoughts?