Vice
His mouth covered hers before anything else could escape.
A tantalizing taste of velvet and anger, the heat of her lips, before she stiffened.
She jerked back, pushing at him with her fists on his chest, but it was just the lean of her torso away from him. Her hips were still snug against his, her thighs warm and lithe between his.
"Castle."
"No," he answered. "I want this."
"This?" An incredulous raise of her eyebrow, an encompassing gesture between them-
He leaned in but she pushed again, dislodging herself from his loose embrace this time. He watched the rise and fall of her body which the bulky uniform couldn't hope to disguise, watched the flicker of desperation in her eyes.
And not the good kind.
It was the kind that had her looking like a trapped animal, both hands up to fend him off. "No. This won't happen. And the ride-along - that's not happening either."
"Why not?" To either. To both. He wanted her; she'd come back. She had shown up at his front door at five in the morning with a book for his daughter and how could he not want her?
"I'm a uniform. They'd never let me - maybe a day, for a call - but never so long as a month. You can't just waltz into the 12th like you own it, Castle."
"What about when you make detective? That would be so cool. What would you wear? Not the uniform, but maybe something sexy, powerful, with-"
"Castle," she grit out, and stepped back again.
"But if it's just hanging out with you while you solve a case - that would be awesome. And it'd be better too, because the kind of character you'd make. . .she'd be bad-ass, and in charge, and kinda slutty." He grinned at her, felt the slow flip of his heart when her mouth parted, lips ripe, waiting, calling to him-
"No," she said, shaking her head with a toss that had her short, spiky hair tumbling. So that he had visions of it against his sheets, the arch of her white throat, the smoke and fire in her eyes as he-
"It's not happening. I have to go."
"Wait," he startled, coming back to the present, to reality, as she moved off down the hallway. "Wait, Beckett. What about-"
"I said no."
She left him.
Left him with no other option.
Beckett ran into the Captain of the Twelfth outside the women's locker room; if she didn't know better, she'd say he was waiting for her. Skulking outside the women's bathroom.
"Beckett. Just the person I was looking for."
Damn.
She stiffened as he touched her elbow, guiding her off to one side, but she knew there was nothing for it. He'd taken her under his wing, guided her, made her see clearly the path laid out for her. She'd suffer the name-calling if it meant she had an inside track. Teacher's pet held nothing on Detective Beckett (though some of the other names they'd come up with made her jaw ache).
"Sir?" she asked, once Montgomery had led her out of the flow of traffic. Her hair was wet from the shower; she'd needed the sparring time this morning before work, just to release all that pent up frustration Castle incited in her.
Not thinking about Castle. Work. Her job. No Castle.
"I've had a phone call from the mayor; he got a phone call from the DA."
"Oh?" What exactly did this have to do with her?
"Apparently, the DA is good friends with someone you know, Beckett. Richard Castle-"
Fuck.
"-is looking to write a new series. Guess who he wants to base his character on?"
"Me," she sighed, swallowing hard. She'd told him in no uncertain terms that it would never happen. Not just because she didn't want him here, but also because she really couldn't have him here. She was a lowly uniform; she didn't have the authority-
"You. You wanna tell me how come I got the mayor asking me if one of my junior officers has made detective yet? How come the mayor is telling me that the moment she does, Richard Castle is going out with her?"
Going out with her?
"We're not going out," she interjected.
Captain Montgomery tilted his head, a calculating look behind his eyes that she had learned to dread. "I meant - riding out with you, Officer Beckett."
Put in her place. "Yes, sir."
"So you do know this Richard Castle."
"I do."
"How'd you meet him?"
"I arrested him," she said plainly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming in frustration. Damn him. He had called the DA and gotten the DA to call the mayor?
"Well, Beckett. You have two weeks before applications are open. And then it looks like your job as a detective will be baby-sitting Richard Castle."
She was going to kill him.
"I'm going to murder you."
Castle grinned and pressed the phone to his ear, bouncing upright in the couch where he'd been dozing. "Good morning again, Officer."
"I'm going to castrate you first, Castle. And then I'm going to murder you."
"Are you sure it's such a good idea to warn me ahead of time?"
"I'm going to have fun doing it."
"Oh, Beckett. I think I will, too."
He heard her strangled cry and then nothing; Castle pulled his phone away to check it and yeah - yeah, awesome - she'd hung up on him.
"Dad?"
He twisted around on the couch to see his little girl at the top of the stairs, looking confused. "Hey, pumpkin. It's early-"
"It's late," she accused, taking one step down.
"Ah. Actually, still early for girls who are missing school today."
"Dad. No!" Alexis came flying down the stairs, thudding with each step, sounding like an elephant. She came to a halt in front of him, her hands on her hips, lips pursed - like her mother pitching a hissy fit.
Funny. He'd never seen Alexis throw a fit.
Oh, except that once. Five years ago - she'd been tired. Probably like she was now.
"Alexis," he said quietly, a warning.
"Dad. You can't do this to me!"
"I can-"
"I have to go to school. This is so not fair. I've got a spelling test and I studied all yesterday and I know my words - and these are hard words - and I'll have to memorize them all over again-"
"Don't you think you should be learning them? Not memorizing them?"
"You're not funny," she cried, stomping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"You're not either," he said dryly, still trying for a smile.
"Dad. You don't get to just keep me home because you feel like it. You're no better than Mom!"
"Hey now-"
"I just missed a week of school because Mom kidnapped me to Paris, and you didn't even stop her, and I-"
"Alexis," he warned again, raising a hand and dropping it on her shoulder to settle her down.
"This is not the same. She told me she was taking you out to lunch, not for a week. I talked with your mother about that-"
"That was this year, Dad. I can't miss any more school. I have to-"
"No." He stood up and gripped her shoulder, turning her around and nudging her towards the stairs. "You have to go back to bed and get a full night's rest before you say something you'll regret."
She fumed silently as he marched her back to the staircase; he felt his will crumbling even as he pushed her towards her room. He was the cool dad; he wasn't supposed to be getting a verbal tongue lashing from his ten year old about skipping school.
The universe was having a big laugh at his expense. Richard Castle's kid actually wanted to go to school.
He sighed and grabbed the plastic bag Beckett had wrapped her gift in - or rather, not wrapped it in. "If it makes you feel better, Kate came by a couple hours ago to give you this."
Alexis hesitated on the bottom step, turned slowly to look at it. He wasn't sure what that expression was on her face, only that he was off the hook for being a terrible dad.
"What is it?" Alexis said, a little breathless, her voice quiet and sharp like a small child's.
"Look and see."
Alexis took the bag and peered inside, slipped her hand in to pull out the book.
"Oh. My book. She bought me my book?" Alexis's round, freckled face turned up to his with wide eyes. "Dad. She got me my book."
"Yeah."
His daughter dropped her eyes back to the gift in her hands; she didn't seem to know what to do with it.
"Alexis?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll write her a thank you note."
He laughed and reached up to tug on one of her ginger bangs. "No, pumpkin, not what I was looking for. Does this make it easier to miss school today?"
Alexis looked up at him again, her face inscrutable. She gave a long sigh and then threw her arms around his neck, his little girl again.
"I love you, Daddy. I love Kate too."
Oh, damn. "I love you too," he sighed, kissing her forehead and wondering what exactly he might have accidentally done. What damage he'd eventually be causing.
Except - hadn't he just given her that lecture about risking her heart?
"Can I read it now?" she asked into his neck, then pulled back with her book held in both hands and gripped to her chest.
"So long as you're in bed."
"Yay!" she squealed and bounced up on her toes to kiss his cheek, then sprinted up the stairs again.
"No breakfast until at least ten," he called after her. "See if you can put the book down long enough to sleep in." He sighed as she disappeared. "For once."
Yeah, right. His kid would never sleep in.
He knew better.
Alexis came flying back downstairs at nine-fifty-eight, her hair in a tangled mess from reading in bed. She had the book open and was scrambling up into the chair at the bar.
"Dad, do we have to give it back?"
"What, pumpkin?" He turned from the stove with her scrambled eggs already dished up, handed it to her. "Toast or french toast?"
"No."
"Neither?"
"Neither. Do we have to give Kate her book back?"
"She said it was a gift-"
"But look," Alexis said, spreading open the pages with one hand while she grabbed a chunk of eggs with the other. She blew on them and stuffed them in her mouth, then fanned her hand in front of her face.
"They're still hot," he said wryly.
"Look," she mumbled, holding the book open and chewing her eggs. "See? It's Kate's book. But can I keep it for a while? I want to reread the chapters when I get home from school. If someone will even let me go-"
He snatched the book out of her hand and turned it around, staring at the doodles in the margin. Young hand, wide and round letters: Katie B.
"It's her book," he said dumbly.
"Yeah. Do you think I can keep it for a while?"
"She gave it - I think she said - it was a gift."
I know a guy.
Castle lifted the book to his nose and sniffed - musty, closed up. Her father then. It'd been at her father's place? Had she gone back to her parents' home and dug through boxes sometime before five o'clock this morning just so his daughter would have the book to read?
"Give it back," Alexis said, leaning over the counter to grab it. "Can I keep it?"
"We'll have to ask," he said slowly. "I thought she said it was a gift. But-"
"It's so good, Dad. It's such a good book. Do you think Kate has other books?"
"Yeah," he said, rubbing his jaw as he stared at the yellowed book. He hadn't thought about it this morning, had assumed she'd gone to a used bookseller, a friend, and-
"Dad? You think we could ask her?"
"What? To use her private collection like a library?" he grinned, reaching over to snarl his fingers in his daughter's tangled hair. She winced and backed off the counter, sitting in her seat again.
"Well. I mean. We could - I could maybe ask? She already knew this book. Maybe there are other really great books, Dad. How will I ever know? I could be missing so many."
"That's true." Beckett. Ask Beckett. He didn't want to, but he wanted to. What did that mean? "We can ask. You're out of school, so. . .maybe we should see if she wants some lunch, a good surprise, right?"
"Oh!" Alexis perked up, the book open again on the counter. "That's a good idea. Lunch. Let's do that, Dad."
He grinned. "Okay, we will. But first. Breakfast. Now, I know you said no to toast, but come on. French toast. I have a really awesome idea - marshmallows and chocolate syrup-"
"Ew. Dad. No."
Beckett bounced.
Off a man's chest and back into the elevator she had just stepped out of, her hands coming up too late, but just in time to feel the hard edges of his pecs, the smooth and warm-
"Castle," she grunted, wincing as she righted herself, his fingers at one of her elbows and tugging her forward again.
"We were just coming to see you," he said, his voice happy and entirely too loud for the headache behind her eyes.
"Why?" she said.
"Wait. Why are you in my building?" he said, sliding his fingers up the back of her arm in an entirely too familiar way. Intimate. She shivered and stepped back, saw Alexis at his side only then.
"Hey, Kate. Thanks for the book," she said, waving Kate's copy of Where the Red Ferns Grows. "Can I keep it for a while?"
"It's yours now," Kate shrugged, ignoring the father who still looked too eager and too pleased. "You get to keep it for as long as you want it. Then pass it on if you're tired of it."
"I'm never giving it away," Alexis said with relish, hugging it to her chest.
Oh. Um. That wasn't exactly - she hadn't meant to inspire such. . .loyalty.
"My daughter likes you," Castle murmured then, a voice in her ear and a wall of heat at her side, too close. "I like you. But still. What are you doing here, Beckett?"
"I-" She glanced at the long hallway outside his apartment door, swallowed hard. Alexis was staring up at her with those blue eyes, that adoring face. Already. Damn, this wasn't at all what she'd intended.
"Alexis. Read your book for a second," she said quickly, turning his daughter around and leading her back down the hall. And Castle was letting her, it seemed. Weird. Not good. Really, not good. She shouldn't be able to have this much-
"Why? Are you guys gonna talk about stuff I shouldn't hear?"
"Yes," she said with relief. "Exactly. So-"
"But I want to hear it."
"Alexis," Castle said. "Go sit by the front door. Then we'll all have lunch together."
Alexis left her hands reluctantly, a lingering look over her shoulder, but Kate turned back to Castle. He raised an eyebrow and she saw he didn't - oh, he didn't seem too amused by that. In fact, she might have actually crossed a line.
"Sorry. I just - we have to talk. And I can't always - I need to be able to tell you the truth."
"You can tell the truth in front of my daughter."
She looked at him straight on, no flinching. "No, I can't."
His face fell, a blankness came down behind his eyes. But it wasn't a wall (like her own), it was a mask; he brought out a charming smile, slow and sexy, and his body leaned in towards hers. She was made breathless just by the look.
But it wasn't really him. She could see that too. This wasn't the guy who'd sat beside her in the car last night and tried to keep her from thinking too hard about her father.
"So, truth time then. What are you doing here, Beckett?"
She felt her stomach roll at the smarmy edge to his voice, at the hollow way his eyes met hers. She didn't like it at all. But - but that's what she wanted, right? The father, the friend, the concerned man - she couldn't handle that. This would make it easier. "It's my lunch break. I came to tell you no."
"No what?"
"No. No you can't follow me around when I make detective. If I even make detective-"
"If? Why the sudden-"
"Because of you," she hissed, poking him in the chest. Castle caught her finger before she could move away, kept it, his hand steadily working to encompass all of hers. She lowered her voice and shifted to keep her back to Alexis down the hall. "Because of your interfering. Now it looks like I slept my way-"
"No, it doesn't," he said, and she could see shock transmitted clearly over the face of his shallowness, like lightning in a pond. "Why would it - how could it possibly look like that?"
"Think about it, Castle. You just called in and basically told my boss's boss that I had to be hired on as a dectective. They think I'm sleeping with you."
"Well, that's no fun," he pouted, back to the playboy. "All the risk but none of the reward? We should remedy that immediately."
She took a breath, pleased that he saw the very real threat to her job here. "Yes. Good. Okay, if you just-"
"Maybe dinner tonight."
"Dinner?" she asked. "Just call him back right now-"
"Him? Him who?"
"Wait, what?" she said, shaking her head at him.
"You and me. Let's work on correcting that oversight." His hands bracketed her waist and she stared at him.
Correcting that-
"What the hell, Castle?" she hissed, glad her back was to Alexis. Still, she worked at lowering voice. "That is not what we'll be doing. You call your friend back and tell him-"
"I don't want to. I want to follow you around. You said you didn't have the authority for that until you made detective. So I made sure that when you do, because you will, you're good-"
"Castle," she moaned, pressing a hand over her eyes to block out the sight of his stubborn, petulant, childish face. She'd been wrong - this wasn't the man she wanted. This wasn't supposed to be Rick Castle.
He leaned in; she could feel him close, his breath at her ear, and despite herself, her body was instantly aware of him.
"I love the way you say my name," he murmured. "No one else calls me Castle."
Oh shit. She was in trouble.