Written by AlwaysCastle and Kimmiesjoy
Castle stands, hands in fists behind his back outside the precinct. The air is chilly and Kate is opposite him with her arms crossed in the cold, a few feet away, and for good reason…maybe.
No.
That's just another excuse to keep up this heated dance, and he finds himself becoming irritated with the turn of events. Not with her, he looks up again to find her eyes closed and her head lifted…well maybe the tiniest amount with her because she's just so frustrating and...
A cold breeze sweeps the sidewalk and gathers her hair, pulling it away from her in a sweeping wave and he watches as she turns her beautiful face up into it. It's freezing, but for once he really doesn't care. He'd walk back home in shorts and a t shirt just to calm the burning of his flesh. The aftermath of the elevator, in all its charged entropy, has left him anxious and overheated.
And it seems that way for Kate as well. It raises some satisfaction in him and at least he knows it's not just him. She's always been so good at hiding it, but lately... it's as though he's slipped passed her defenses... or there is a complete lack of them, and all her emotions and feelings, and reactions are out there for him to see.
That is something in itself. It makes him feel as though the beginning is near. He's so close he can taste it, taste her, but then moments like this rear their ugly head and the awkwardness sets in. The distance she's put between them on the sidewalk is a step back, and all he wants to do is stride forward, fill the void with his body and take her in his arms.
Castle opens his mouth, squeezing his fists tighter. But Kate cuts him off.
"Taking a cab?" She asks. He thinks he can hear a hint of shyness. That's something.
"I thought I would walk." He replies. But his tone is not tender like he meant it to be. It's come out detached. He must be reading into her unspoken questions, still far too in tune with her.
Shit.
She nods, pivoting her upper half so she can look behind her, away from him, anywhere but him, as her lower half... those legs, stay rooted to the ground. He watches, sees the cogs turn within her racing mind and the fight or flight response he knows so well starts firing. But she doesn't move.
Her body won't comply but her expression is very readable.
She looks back at him, and actually shrugs, with a slight tilt of her head, her eyes scrunch at the corners in confusion at her own rampaging emotions.
She's not ready.
Still.
He can see it in her eyes, but he can also see that she's fighting that too, she's not ready yet, but she…wants to be?
That's what he reads. He could be wrong. He so badly doesn't want to be wrong. He doesn't want to feel like this has been all for nothing. Because it's surely…something.
He doesn't know what to do about it though, his mouth opens to ask but the raise of her eyes to his again freeze the words, the actions, and he stops.
If he takes a step forward, a bridging step towards her, he thinks she will panic, flight response in full force as she makes a feeble excuse, she might pretend she didn't almost fall into his chest in the elevator, and flee.
But what is his other option? Just say goodbye, go home and be fighting with himself the whole way? He can't keep doing this.
She takes the step at almost the same time he does, her hands falling to hook her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans, she gives him a smile, a small one, a new one, but it falls away fast as he lifts his hand. She's still far enough away that even with his arm at full reach, his fingertips only just skim her shoulder.
"I…" she shakes her head, the incomplete unknowable sentence between them before she breathes out, a forced exhale that says more than words.
"Two days." He speaks, not entirely sure of his own meaning as he begins. He's giving her time, he is, he does and he always will, but with everything still tangible and real he needs to remind her.
"You don't want to see me for two…?"
Of course she misunderstands, and her face takes on a look of complete hurt and desolation that, screw fight or flight, forces him to step closer, his fingers firm on her shoulder as he squeezes again.
"It's been two days," he watches her face to see meaning sink in and when it doesn't, when she still looks hurt he continues "it has been two days since…you fell asleep on me." And he wants that again. The pure vulnerability she allows when she's warm and sleepy, open and without that wall.
Oh...
Her eyes widen, grow larger and more inviting as she comprehends what he means, two days of forward momentum to get them to here and it's huge, it's tiny in terms of progress but…it's still huge. It's monumental, as his hand still rests on her shoulder, the shoulder she held him against while he dreamed of her.
She nods.
"Two days," she repeats and he smiles, glad she understands but she shakes her head. "Two days before we have to come back." She nods towards the building, this sad look on her face as though it won't be long enough for...whatever this is.
And this time his eyes grow larger and his beaming smile makes her laugh, she steps back but it's okay, it's frustrating and painful and he still wants to lift her off her feet and kiss her breathless in the middle of the street but it's okay, because she just gave him hope, she gave him a promise.
Two days, past and gone by, since she fell asleep on him, and two days, ahead and unknown.
Castle's brow furrows, hands clasped behind his back as he paces his study. She just gave him hope and he was happy with that, more than happy with it. His heart rose in his chest, his cup nearly runneth over, it's blue birds over his head and rainbows and smiles and unicorns.
But now what?
Now that he's had time to walk home in the freezing cold, his skin feeling raw and tight as he still shivers, now he's done that Castle feels even more frustrated as reality sets in. Frustrated at her, but mostly himself, for letting her get to him the way she does, he gives her that power over him, he lets her make him wait.
Why?
Why must he wait? He's been waiting and pining for nearly four years. He's sat idly by and taken her cues, following leads that are fewer and farther between. Waiting for the moment where she gives him a shred of what she gave him today.
But what makes this slice any different from the others?
She has all the power here. She holds his heart in her hand and she can easily take it all away. It's not like she hasn't done it before, and he shouldn't be bitter because she was healing and needed time but he doesn't have the patience of a saint, he's human, he's a man, and he can't help but wonder what makes this any different?
He stops.
Castle had been dragging his hand roughly through his hair, but he suddenly stills and looks out his study at the front door.
The difference is...He is going for it.
He's taking the power from her. He nods at himself, rubbing his hand on his chin now and then striding out with purpose to his front door. He's still wearing his coat, didn't bother to take it off when he stormed through his front door so he just grabs his keys. As he swings his door wide, face determined he nearly collides with all his heart desires.
Kate Beckett stands outside his door, a gasp halfway out her mouth, and two coffees in hand.
We'll take our coffees with reviews on the side.
