Kiss Me, Detective – Chapter 9

Not long after Kate left the precinct, Castle left to head home himself as Montgomery had allowed. But before he could catch a cab outside, he felt someone could up close behind him.

Castle greeted Kate's ex-boyfriend smirking assuredly. "Ah, Special Agent Sorenson. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just thought I'd check in to see how things were going with you and Kate," Sorenson began.

"Well, you saw my text didn't you? It went really well. In fact, this past week has been…really excellent," Castle described. He suddenly knew exactly what was behind Sorenson's appearance that night and realized that he didn't like where it was likely to lead. "I'm really looking forward to going to the dance with her, and possibly taking the relationship a step further afterward."

It had been a long time since Castle could remember speaking about a woman with such seriousness. However, his comments didn't seem to rattle the arrogant FBI Agent at all.

"Is that so?" Sorenson challenged.

Castle looked him directly in the eye. "Yes. It is. In fact, the bet's off. I'll pay you and Demming back double if you want, but I'm done. I don't want this being about money anymore. And the vibe I'm getting from Kate is that she wants to go with me anyway."

"Really?" Sorenson disputed. He felt completely incredulous that Kate would pick anyone over him, least of all this writer with a reputation for throwing over women as fast he changed his shorts.

A cab pulled up alongside the curb near where Castle was standing and as Castle climbed in, Sorenson took one last shot. "We'll see about that, Writer Boy."

"Yes we will," Castle shot back. "Night Swelled Head."

Sorenson stood on the curb fuming to himself. Nobody does this to me, he thought. I never lose when it comes to women, and I'm certainly not gonna lose to this pampered, immature, hanger-on who's only concern with law enforcement is how it can help him get richer. One way or another, he would be the one taking Kate to that ball.

"Problem, Sorenson?" A voice said from behind him. It was Demming.

"Yeah, actually. Writer Boy wants to call off the bet. Says he doesn't want it to be about money and he's convinced that Kate wants to go with him," Sorenson explained.

"That so?" Demming said, trying to hide the worry in his voice. "What do you think we should do about it?"

Sorenson thought hard, but couldn't come up with a solid plan at the moment. "Don't know. But I think we may need to step things up a bit."

"Works for me," Demming agreed. "Wait, what's this 'we' talk? Why should I help you any when I want Kate to go to the dance with me?"

"Would you rather she go with him?"

"No. Of course not."

"Me neither. So let's put our heads together and may the best man win," Sorenson proposed.

Demming nodded in agreement and both men went their separate ways for the night.

Hours later and blocks away, Castle had changed into sweats and was sitting in his office having monumental difficulty writing. All he could think about was Kate and the look on her face when she realized that the best opportunity she had come across in solving her mother's murder in years had slipped away. She looked like a helpless little girl in need of comforting. And he wanted nothing more than to be the one comforting her. The night they had spent at Central Park watching the movie and having ice cream afterward was incredible, he remembered. It felt so right. He had felt more alive and energized than he had in years. He didn't want to consider the possibility that he would never have that feeling again with Kate.

As he gazed out the window of his office, he heard a low rumbling come from the corner of his desk. He turned around in his swivel chair and saw that his cell phone was slowly migrating across the desk. Without a thought in his head, he snatched it up and punched send.

"Castle?" Kate's voice inquired on the other end. She sounded emotionally spent, but stronger and steadier that the last time he had seen her at the precinct.

"Kate!" Castle exclaimed. "How are you? Are you OK?"

"I'm better, Castle. Thanks. After all, you can only cry and brood for so long."

Castle exhaled heavily and found himself at a loss for words. He wanted to reach through the phone and hug Kate somehow. Tell her it would be alright. Something. Just hearing her lovely voice wasn't enough.

"Castle, I wanted to thank you for being there for me earlier tonight. And for giving me space. It was all just what I needed."

"It was the least I could do, given that I was the one who dredged the memory of your mom's death up again and threw it back in your face." Castle kicked himself mentally. He really should have just left well enough alone. Kate, on the other hand, was touched by Castle's criticism of himself.

"Castle, you shouldn't blame yourself. The fact that you even cared enough to try is more than enough. The few guys that I tell about Mom end up running furiously in the other direction because they can't handle the drama. It was just really sweet that you tried."

Even though he was alone in his office, Castle beamed. "I do what I can."

A long minute passed between them without either saying a word, and yet neither found the silence uncomfortable.

"So does your invitation to get together this weekend if I need company still stand?" Beckett asked hopefully.

Castle's heart skipped a beat. "Of course. What did you have in mind?"

The next afternoon found Kate waiting for Castle outside a large storefront whose window read Bullseye Laser Tag. As he rounded the corner and read the sign, Castle's eyes lit up as Kate expected they would.

"Laser tag, huh? Don't you know how to show a guy a good time!"

"Oh, c'mon Castle. You're not afraid of getting physical are you?" Kate asked with a flirtatious glint in her eye.

Twenty minutes later, they separately charged off into the darkness of the indoor laser tag course decked out in electronic target vests and hunting for each other with laser guns at the ready. For the next hour they exchanged shots, captured and relinquished each other's home base, tried to find creative places to hide from each other, and generally enjoyed aiming at the targets mounted on each other's shoulders and in between their shoulder blades. Before they knew it, their first session ended with Kate beating Castle handily. The lights came up and they rendezvoused towards the middle of the course. A thin sheen of sweat covered both their faces, both had rolled up their sleeves above the elbows and were breathing slightly heavily.

"Don't get cocky, Detective. I've got your number," Castle threatened playfully.

"Prepare for defeat, Big Shot," Kate retorted, the sexy glint still in her eye, making her all the more enticing and Castle all the more excited.

"That's exactly what you're gonna need to win this round," Castle spat back.

They both went to their respective corners and when the lights dimmed again, took off into the maze of bridges, niches, and flashing lights. About halfway through the session, Castle was on the verge of tying Kate's score and thought he had her cornered in a part of the maze where he suspected he'd be able to hit her, but from which she'd have difficulty returning fire. She was hiding in a vertically narrow alcove under the foot bridge upon which he stood and he was sure she was unaware of his location right above her. Rather than try to fire directly down on her, which would most likely scare her off into another crook, Castle decided to use surprise to gain the upper hand. He looked over the side of the bridge and could see the bright lights on her vest reflecting softly off the black walls of the alcove. He judged the distance to the floor, switched the hold of his gun into his left hand, took firm hold of the rail with his right, squatted slightly and in one fluid motion swung himself over the side and landed firmly about a foot in front of Beckett. Before she could react, he fired a shot and scored a direct hit at the target on her chest. She made to sneak under his outstretched arms and escape, but he quickly stepped forward and blocked her way out of the nook.

"Not so fast, Detective," he said huskily. "You're mine now."

Maybe it was the darkness of the course. Maybe it was the occasional flashing lights and strobes that reminded them of summer fireworks. Maybe it was the warm air in the maze that had dampened their clothes with sweat and made the alcove feel stiflingly hot. Maybe it was the adrenaline that flowed freely through their veins filling every part of both of their bodies with delicious electricity. Or maybe it was the pent up desire to be close to each other that kept their bodies dangerously close and cried out to be answered. Neither knew and neither cared.

Castle leaned in close to Beckett, and let his lips hover inches over top of hers. He moved his hands from the walls on either side of the alcove entrance to the wall behind Kate, placing one hand on either side of her, trapping her right in front of him. She let go of her gun and slowly raised her arms around his neck, guiding his mouth to hers.

Their lips met gently and softly at first. When Castle felt Kate's tongue creep into his mouth, he quickened his pace, sucking and licking her bottom lip furiously. His hands reached around her back and underneath her electronic vest where her blouse was soaked through with sweat. He caressed her back, running the fingers on one hand through her hair up to the nape of her neck and the other hand down to her waist just above her posterior. Castle's heart was beating so fast he thought it would pop out of his chest. And the fact that Kate was doused with perspiration and still smelled like cherries and vanilla, drove him even more wild. Every time he tried to catch his breath and opened his eyes, the sight of her near him, the feel of her hands around him, and her intoxicating scent all conspired to take his breath away all over again.

Kate had her arms locked around Castle's neck and rose up on her toes to maximize her closeness to his body, the electronic vest both wore serving as little impediment. She ran her hands through his thick brown hair and her mouth all over his cheek, his jaw and his ear, nipping at him with wild abandon. She lowered her hands and massaged his hips, lower back, and butt cheeks before reaching under both his vest and his shirt to knead his chest. She wanted to feel all of him, to cover herself with the smell of his cologne, and to lose herself in the feeling of having him pressed up against her. She let herself go to allow his being to wash over her so she could experience him totally.

A dam had broken and rather than fight against the mad, onrushing current as they had for months, they let themselves be carried away. For first time in their lives, neither had any fear about which direction the swirling tide would take them.