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Chapter Nine
Reunion
The jet ski turns out to be fairly easy to drive, especially since they're keeping to a low speed, trying to make as little noise as possible. Beckett actually finds herself enjoying the ride, relishing the way the warm sea air tangles with her curls and the salt stings her cheeks. The moonlight frosts over the water, reminding her of other nights spent in the Hamptons. Wrapped up in broad arms, rocking on Castle's porch swing. Lying on a blanket on the grassy green of his lawn. Sharing a lounge chair after they'd finally gotten around to skinny dipping in his pool. Kate smiles as they speed towards the shadow of Hunt's boat. Castle would tease her for thinking it, but she can feel him. Knows deep in her bones that she's getting closer to him.
Hunt tells her to cut the engine and sidle up to the boat. It's quiet and dark, and there's no immediate sign of Castle.
"Well, at least he's not hanging over the side this time," Hunt says.
Beckett throws a questioning look over her shoulder.
"Oh, you know him, got stuck trying to escape."
She can't suppress her grin. Of course he would.
She helps Hunt onto the deck and lets him clumsily tie the watercraft up with his good arm. She nudges him to go down the steps first, just in case Rick's waiting with a frying pan or something equally as ridiculous.
Hunt swings the door open cautiously, but the galley is empty.
"Bedroom's through there," he nods. "Go ahead, I'll give you two a minute."
Beckett narrows her eyes suspiciously. Is he genuinely giving them a moment, or does he have a card up his sleeve? She's impatient to see Castle but she's not stupid, so she takes a moment to search the room, lifting the seat cushions and opening the cupboards to make sure she's not leaving Hunt with anything dangerous.
"You don't have to do that. I'm on your side," he says, but Beckett doesn't stop, inspecting whatever gaps she can find for stashed weapons.
"I guess a little gratitude is too much to ask," Hunt grumbles, flopping down on one of the bench seats.
When she's satisfied with her search, Beckett tosses him one last threatening glance, then turns to tap the bedroom door open gently. The knob is completely gone, and she suspects that it's her partner's handiwork.
She loses her breath when she walks in, because the small room is filled with his scent, is filled with him, and her chest aches with the joy of it. He's stretched out on the bed, laying flat on his back, eyes closed, and he looks so innocent and angelic in the moonlight that her eyes water.
Kate kneels quietly by the bed, getting just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Castle's body. Her hungry fingers reach for the errant lock of hair tumbling over his forehead, the one that he fiddles with for whole minutes each morning, making sure it falls just right. She loves him so much, this silly, amazing, gentle giant of a man.
"Figures you'd be asleep on the job," she whispers to his sleeping form, adoration coating her voice.
One blue eye pops open, then the other, his face instantly brightening with a mixture surprise and elation.
Sometimes he takes away her ability to speak, to think, and she can only smile, so wide and radiant that her muscles strain to contain it. It feels like years since she's smiled like this, even though it was only yesterday morning, when she answered her phone and he told her he was on his way to their wedding with documents in hand.
"Kate?" Her name comes out on a breath of awe, as if he thinks he's dreaming. "What are you doing here?"
"Come on, Castle, you really thought I'd let you hide from me for six months? I have to admit, it's a pretty original way of getting out of a wedding," she teases, tongue trapped between the teeth of her grin. "Cold feet?"
"Not cold feet. Never cold feet."
He moves fast, swinging his legs around so he's sitting on the edge of the bed, and before she knows what's happening he's pulling her onto his lap. Out of pure muscle memory, her arms loop around his neck and he drops his forehead into hers, shuddering with the humble, heartbreaking breaths of a man who's been given a second life. Her eyes fall shut, absorbing only the feel of him, the warmth and the familiar musk and the comfort of his skin on hers, pressed brow to brow. Of all the beautiful things she has ever felt with him, everything's always finished with a top coat of one single emotion. Gratitude. She's just so incredibly grateful for this man, for his love, his patience and impatience, and for his presence in her life, one that grew from the size of an annoying pea under her stack of mattresses to…well, the whole castle. And, apparently, he's turned her into the cheesiest, sappiest romantic around.
His voice rumbles through her when he speaks. "I wasn't sleeping on the job."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really. I was poised, ready to attack. I heard my father talking to someone, but you were sneaky. Didn't say anything. I thought it might have been a bad guy."
"A bad guy, huh? Twenty-four hours without me and your vocabulary has certainly taken a turn for the worse," she ribs. They're falling into one another, their particular gravity pulling their faces so close together that her lips brush against his as she speaks, ever so lightly, and the tingling, blissful shock of it is almost better than their first two kisses.
"Hey, I was drugged," he pouts, and she's instantly flooded with concern. She's about to pull back and check him over for damage, but then his lips are claiming hers, fitting perfectly around the archer's bow of her upper lip, letting her close around his bottom one the way she likes to. They've perfected this. Breathing the same intoxicating air, lapping up one another's love. Once they start it's impossible for them to stop, and they pour their relief out through the slide of their tongues and the gentle nudges of their noses.
And then Kate's control snaps, all of the weight of the day spiraling down, and she just…freaks out a little bit. Her kisses become frantic and starving. She attacks him with her mouth, trying to press her lips to every square inch of his neck, his forehead, his nose. She's running off the rails, trying to inhale him, and she's completely not thinking when her tongue flattens against his cheek and drags as a purely animal possessiveness surges through her.
She can feel the curve of his smile where it's buried in the smooth skin of her neck, can feel the rolling tumble of his laugh.
"Did you just lick my face?"
"Shut up," she breathes into his ear, and she lets her tongue dart out again, tracing the shell of it before closing her teeth on his lobe.
His fingers get caught in the salty windblown tangles of her hair and he abandons the journey in favor of just grabbing her head, with both hands. Kate retaliates, her own hands gliding feverishly until they find purchase, and neither of them gentle when Castle captures her lips again. Drugged by his kiss, she loses all sense of time and place. She surges forward to settle further up on his lap, pressing her thighs tightly around his middle.
Castle grunts and slides his hands under her, lifting her a few inches to keep her weight off his bandaged thigh, but it serves only to topple her forward. Her breasts crush into his chest, which would normally be a good thing - a very good thing - but instead of the usual appreciative moan, he hisses and lets loose a string of profanities. Kate jumps back like she's been burned, guilt washing over her.
"Oh shit, sorry."
"Like I said, just a little beat up," he coughs out.
"Where are you hurt?"
Castle gestures vaguely at his chest. "From the airbag in my car."
"Let me see."
Kate's slender fingers twist around the top button of his shirt and she presses a kiss to the unmarred skin at the center of his collarbone.
"Okay, lovebirds, time's up." Hunt's muffled voice is accompanied by a rap on the door that has them separating faster than teenagers.
Castle scrubs a hand over his face. Apparently both of his parents have a special talent for interrupting tender moments.
Beckett slides off Castle's lap. Now that the passion's cooled, she promptly collides against the wall of questions that have been building over the course of the day. When she'd heard Castle's voice on the phone, she was too relieved to be upset, but on the drive over she'd gotten a little worked up about his 'gallantry'. Because that has to be what's going on - that's the only reason he'd stupidly allow himself to be sequestered without her. He thinks he's saving her by not being with her, and it's sweet, but it's ridiculous. Losing Castle is probably the only thing that could truly destroy the formidable Katherine Beckett.
He's so adorable though, that she can't come down too hard on him. "That reminds me, you have some explaining to do," she scolds.
He levels a stern blue glare on her. God, he's handsome when he's serious. "So do you, Miss 'I-Won't-Investigate.'"
"I'm not investigating. Technically."
"Well, let's get this over with. I'll let my father tell you all about his genius plan," Castle spits sarcastically.
Kate nods. The two of them emerge from the bedroom, Castle's hand riding low and warm on Kate's back, and she lets her own hand swing behind her, bumping against his thigh with every step. They do it without thinking, reluctant to part even an inch after staring down what might have been a long separation.
The bitter smell of cheap, strong coffee rises from the counter at the end of the room. Castle eyes his father, who's stirring freeze-dried coffee grounds into hot water with his left hand. The other is hanging at an awkward angle and dangles with his movements.
"What happened to your arm?" Castle asks.
"I don't think your bride is a fan of your old man, Rick."
"Yeah, well, who could blame her?"
For just a moment, a fleeting look of pain shoots across Hunt's face, but it's gone so quickly Castle thinks he may have imagined it.
Castle hates himself a little bit, because there's this tiny light of hope in him that refuses to be quashed. Hope that maybe his father does love him. After all, Hunt's saved his life, more than once, and to hear him tell it he certainly didn't have to. He could have stayed out of that mess in Paris, although that may have been more about Alexis. But there was the James Bond book, and the hug that felt real even if it had been just to plant a tracking device in Rick's pocket. God, he's a desperate puppy dog. He has so much love in his life, but he still craves the attention of this man, who contributed nothing but a bit of DNA to his life.
Ever watchful, Kate touches his arm. "Babe, sit down and have some coffee." He smiles for her, trying to shake off his dark musings.
Hunt sets three mugs on the table and sinks down onto the bench across from them. Beckett takes a sip, and even though the coffee is lukewarm, black and downright horrific, she swallows greedily. Yes, she's been spoiled by Castle's daily offerings, but she's not so soft that she can't drink instant coffee. Besides, she hasn't eaten all day, and she can feel the nagging signs that her body is about to crash.
Castle, on the other hand, gags dramatically and wipes his tongue on the sleeve of his now thoroughly destroyed dress shirt. He keeps quiet though, and Beckett raises her eyebrows because that's got to be a first. Obviously something about Hunt makes him hold back, and she wonders if he's trying to look brave or tough for his dad. Funny, because he's the bravest person she knows, and complaining about shitty coffee isn't going to change that.
It's Beckett who finally breaks the silence.
"So, I'm going to ignore the fact that yesterday was supposed to be our wedding day and focus on whatever life-threatening occurrence has driven us out here. Castle told me he's being targeted. Who's after him?"
The two men take turns bringing Beckett up to speed. Hunt does most of the talking, and Castle interrupts every now and then with some vivid details, unable to let the story be told in such a cut and dried fashion, especially when it comes to the part about the car crash, trying to make himself look as dignified as possible. Beckett listens, her brilliant mind absorbing every detail, checking for inconsistencies, asking questions when she finds them, probing until she knows everything that Castle knows and drawing a few more details out of Hunt.
"So, what's the plan? How can we take this person down?"
"We aren't taking him down. Castle is going into WITSEC until I can clear this up. You're going back to the city."
"Like hell I am. If he's going into hiding, I'm going with him."
Castle erupts. "What? Kate, no, go back home, let this blow over. You won't be safe with me if they're after me."
"Castle," she warns, voice low. She doesn't want to do this in front of his dad. They've argued before on the subject of putting themselves in harm's way for the other, and have begrudgingly agreed that they'll both just have to get over the fact that if one of their lives is in danger, so is the other's. Castle's situation is definitely less immediate than her standing on a bomb, but she's going to be his bomb buddy and she sure as hell isn't leaving the building. Boat. Or wherever the hell else they end up.
She squeezes his hand under the table, watching as his gaze drops to where they're woven together. When he notices the rings that she's wearing on her thumb and fourth finger - their rings - his eyes snap back up to hers, searching, asking. They've always been able to have whole conversations in the space of a silence. He traces the platinum bands reverently, and she knows that he can hear her heart, can hear her saying 'you're my home.'
She turns back to his father. "You know this makes sense. Castle and I are safer together than apart, and if anyone does come after him, you know what I'm capable of. I refuse to go back to the city and pretend to carry on with my life without him, not now." She's been through enough interrogations that she knows she's not getting through, so she switches tactics. Her voice hardens, becomes commanding, the same way it does with a stubborn suspect. "If you send me back to the city, you know you'd have to personally put me in the ground to stop me from going after whoever ordered that hit. So right now, the only thing you need to be worrying about is how to get me into WITSEC with him."
Hunt smiles wanly. "I thought you might say something like that. You two are excellent at throwing wrenches in my plans."
Castle's father is silent, and Kate can almost hear him thinking, turning her proposal over in his mind, weighing the risks, recalibrating his strategy.
"Okay. I can get you in."
She lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Dad! No, Beckett, please - "
"I gotta make a call." Hunt stands and heads out onto the deck, ignoring Castle's obvious objection and mild state of panic.
"Beckett, what - why - I mean, what about your job? You heard him, it could take six months, maybe more. I can't ask you to give up your life."
"Castle, hush. My job isn't my life."
He sputters, but she presses her fingers softly against his mouth. There was a time when she had nothing in her arsenal to keep him quiet other than an icy glare. It's much easier to stop him talking now that she can touch him. And quite a lot easier when they're alone.
"Rick. Do you want to know what I wrote in my vows? I was going to promise you that I'd have your back until the end. Even though I didn't get to stand up and say the words in front of a huge crowd, I still mean them. This is what partners do. I want to be with you, and my job and our lives in New York are just getting in the way of that. If we need to run in order to be together, I'll run. Two years ago, I would have fought, or gone down fighting, but I'm sick of it. I'm sick of people coming after us for no good reason. Let's just hole up, let your dad deal with this, and just be together. Think of it as a honeymoon," she teases.
Castle drops a quick kiss to each corner of her mouth. "You trust him?"
"Not completely, but I do believe that he saved your life today instead of ending it, and if he made that choice, it must mean something. He's giving up a lot to keep you safe, Rick, and honestly, I'm not sure we really have a choice in the matter."
"Yeah, you're right. I just hope he can fix this."
"Hey. Hunt might be ruthless, and a little cold - "
"A little?" Castle scoffs.
"But he seems like he knows what he's doing. If he says he can fix it, maybe we should just…let him try."
She leaves it unspoken, but he can see the savage promise in her eyes. That if Hunt fails, she will rise from the darkness and fight for Castle's life with her own hands.
Hunt blusters back into the galley and tosses a small black duffel bag onto the table.
"Everything you'll need should be in there, but I need to meet with my contact in WITSEC and pick up Kate's ID. You two should eat something, get cleaned up, get some sleep. You'll have a long couple of days ahead of you until you can get to your new place."
Beckett frowns. Usually, witnesses are under twenty-four hour protection courtesy of the government until they reach their safe destination. "I take it we're not getting an escort, then."
"Unfortunately, no. I need to get going, but I'll give you more details when I get back." Hunt glances down at his incapacitated arm. "One more thing though, Rick. Do you think you could undo your fiancé's damage?"
"Uh, sure, I guess," Castle shrugs. "How?"
"Just pull on my arm, really slowly but steadily."
Castle takes a hold of his father's hand. He's so…short. It's strange, he thinks, that he never got to physically look up to his father like most boys do.
Hunt grunts when Castle pulls, the muscles stretching even further out of place than they are already.
"Is it working?"
"Yeah, keep pulling."
Finally, there's a dull pop, the reverberation of tendons snapping back into place vibrating through both of their bodies. Hunt rotates his shoulder gingerly and smiles at Castle, crow's feet deepening, blue eyes sparkling.
"Don't do anything stupid, son."
They watch from the deck as Hunt speeds off towards the shore.
Castle pouts. "Why do people always say that to me and not you?"
