A/N: Apologies for the delay and thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Much appreciated. Now this chapter was challenging, firstly because I had no clue how it would turn out and secondly because I had so many different ideas. In the end, the characters took over.
Enjoy!
(Italics - flashbacks)
(Updated version - I made a few corrections and small changes)
Chapter 11 - My world keeps turning back to you
"It belongs to you, Rick. All of it."
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He stares at her - this exposed, utterly beautiful, enigma of a woman. She's watching him with dark, expectant eyes and chewing on her lower lip. Her words float down like snowflakes, like leaves in a breeze and find a resting place between. All she wants is for him to reach across and pick them up, nurture them. She wants him to take ownership of her heart, to accept it, to finally claim what is rightfully his.
"Rick!"
But of course, someone interrupts.
Paula stalks over to where they are sitting, phone in hand and heels clacking. She looks annoyed. Maybe even a little angry.
"What the hell are you doing? We have to go," she hisses, pointedly ignoring the detective.
He keeps his eyes steadfast on Kate, his mysterious muse. "Paula, not now."
The feisty agent's face is a gathering storm of pissed off.
"No, Rick. We have to go. Now!" She checks her watch. "We're already late." Her phone rings and she walks away to take the call. He watches Kate for a moment, completely torn and unwilling to leave her.
He never wants to leave her again.
Kate breaks eye contact and starts to get up. "Uh... Y-you should go," she says, weaving a hand through her hair, her eyes flittering to his again.
He stands, suddenly feeling desperate because he needs to hear her say it. He needs to hear her say that she loves him too.
"Kate, wait-"
She sees the panic flashing all over his face, shooting straight through his body like a bolt of lightning.
Oh, Rick.
What has she done to this man?
Kate has to resist the urge to pull him to her, to kiss all that doubt and hurt and disappointment away. There will be time to do that and so much more, but first they need to talk this out. To tend to the wounds. To rebuild burnt bridges. However, he needs some reassurance now.
A smile softens the tight streak of her mouth, paints her autumn eyes with a familiar fondness. "You don't want to be late, Castle and I don't want to be the reason that you disappoint your fans."
His chest eases at the teasing quality of her voice, the memorable banter that usually accompanies it. He returns a smile, the sparkle giving life to the blue hue of his eyes. "We don't want to disappoint the fans."
She laughs softly, dipping her head for a moment. "No, we don't." When she returns her eyes to his, he sees it. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
He sees all of it.
The unmasked love and affection laid bare behind the rubble of denial. How it ebbs and flows in the reflection of her eyes, how it dusts her lips with tender smiles, how it dances in the timbre of her voice.
She loves him.
He is struck with it and for a moment, his tongue cannot roll the words from his mouth.
"Rick, come on. Time to go," Paula calls, an eyebrow raised and a foot tapping in impatience.
The faculty of speech returns and he nods, feeling the smile spreading over his mouth trickle into his voice.
"Yeah... yeah. We'll talk about this later."
About how he loves her. About how she loves him.
About how to get back onto one page.
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She's beautiful.
Absolutely gorgeous dressed in only early morning sunlight, tangled sheets and glorious nudity.
He desperately wants to touch her, trace his finger over the hard ridges of her spine and down the slope of her back until it disappears underneath the sheets. His hand hovers over her, deciding rather to gently sweep the mass of dark curls from her back and neck to expose her skin to a delicate brush of his lips. He kisses her once, twice, three times and smiles when she stirs, a quiet, content sigh falling from her lips.
He wants to whisper in her ear, say all the words that were burned away by the furious craze that drove them the previous evening. He wants to let it tumble out of his mouth into hers. He wants to confess his love, allow the language of his affection to wash over her because everything he needs, resides in her.
His future is written all over her.
It's written in the bend of her knee, the arch of her back, the desperate clutch of her hands, the breathless moans that still echo throughout his body. He cannot separate their stories any longer, the narrative that makes them two different people. His heart is now engraved onto hers and carved into her body.
It is now carried inside hers.
He lets his gaze caress her for a moment longer before slipping out of bed. If he doesn't go now, he might be tempted to keep her in bed for the rest of the day which will not be possible. They are on a case after all. He pulls on the pair of boxers that were flung to the ground in their frenzied moment of abandonment, intent on bringing her breakfast in bed.
Intent on showing her how good they are together.
How good their future could be.
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Rick is snapped out of his thoughts when the car door slams shut and Paula gets in after talking with the driver. She watches him for a moment, her mouth set in a grim line, and shakes her head.
His brow furrows. "What?"
Paula lifts an eyebrow of disapproval. "Kate Beckett, that's what."
He shrugs, suddenly feeling defensive. "What about her?"
She sighs. "Oh come on, Rick. This is the woman who ripped your heart out and now after a few minutes of talking to her, you look about ready to propose. Is your memory that short?"
He shakes his head, steel in his eyes. "Paula, you don't understand-"
Her eyes flash, her face swiftly clouding in thunder. "-I don't understand? Goddamnit Rick, I was with you the last eight weeks! I saw what that woman did to you." He averts her eyes, clenching his jaw. "Or should I remind you?"
It's the truth and it still hurts.
He raises his eyes to hers again. "Are you talking as my friend or as my agent now?" He asks, rancor dripping from the words.
"Both, you asshole!" She exclaims, throwing her hands in the air, exasperated. "You gave up Nikki Heat for that bitch-"
He immediately sits up, pointing a finger at her. "Don't." The abrupt rage that flares across his expression, stills her. "Don't talk about her like that."
His agent considers him for a moment and sees how his heart pours out of every word, every movement of his mouth, every fiber of his body.
It's breathtaking.
She sighs and rubs her forehead, dropping her eyes from his blazing shades of blue. "You still love her, don't you?"
Rick sits back and the anger lining his body leaks out of him. "Yeah. Yes, I do." He looks at her for a moment. "You already knew that, Paula."
She shifts her gaze to the window. "Yeah. But I don't understand why, Rick." She looks back at him and shakes her head lightly. "How could you still love her so much after what happened between you two?"
He swallows, his throat working past the sudden lump. "It's not something I can stop..." His eyes are burning with sincerity. "I would do anything for her."
And Paula Haas knows he would.
She nods slowly. "Just promise me one thing. Promise me you'll be careful about this."
He sighs and drops his head into a hand, scrubbing it over his face. "Paula-"
She holds up a hand. "Just... don't go walking through fire for this woman just yet, okay?"
His looks at her again, mouth twitching in amusement and fondness. "Are you talking as my friend or my agent now?"
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She feels the soft brush of his lips on her skin once, twice, three times and also the smile against the back of her neck. It feels nice, like candyfloss. Soft and sweet and... lovely.
Mmm. Candyfloss-kisses.
Kate sighs, still under the spell of hazy sleep and fantasies. Of him. Of them. In her dreams, Royce isn't dead and she doesn't have someone waiting at home. It's just him and her on a tropical island, wearing next to nothing, rubbing oil-
The bed shifts, stirring her into consciousness. Her eyes flutter against the invading light and she slowly blinks them open, a little confused and disorientated. This doesn't look like the room-
Wait. Wait a minute.
She's naked. The sheets are tangled. Her clothes are strewn all over the floor and furniture. Castle's shirt is lying-
Oh, shit.
Her eyes snap open, the memories rushing back with startling clarity. It hits her like ice water, like the winter's cold. She remembers the way it had started, there on the couch with him telling her that she was a mystery - a mystery he would never solve - and that he was amazed by her. He had revealed his heart with those few words, exposed his soul, told her how completely in love he is with her. The words had swirled around and embraced her, draining all of the heartache and grief and sadness out of her body.
She remembers how she coyly ducked her head, smiled and returned the compliment. How their eyes locked, the simmering heat that flowed between them. She remembers how the unmasked affection in his gaze had drawn her in, how she suddenly let herself fall into a moment of abandonment. Her kiss had surprised him at first, but soon he was kissing her back, drinking her in, taking from her. And soon, they ended up dragging and pulling and consuming towards the nearest bedroom.
Kate closes her eyes for a moment, a hand over her face, heart hammering as she considers the events of the previous evening:
She slept with Richard Castle and it was fantastic.
[][][]
"I went to see him."
Lanie stops mid-sentence and looks up from her report, an eyebrow raised. "Hey, nice to see you too." She pushes her chair back and gets up. "Who did you go and see?"
She's playing dumb. Of course she is. It's Lanie Parish - she wants details.
Kate sighs and props herself against a table. "Castle. I went to see Castle."
The ME raises both her eyebrows. "Oh, really? When?"
About damn time.
Kate drops her gaze. "This morning at his book signing. Just before I came here actually."
Oh.
Oh, crap. It must have gone south because why was she here and not screwing Richard Castle's brains out?
Again.
"So, uh, how did it go?" Lanie ventures cautiously, warily because when it comes to emotions and feelings and girly things, Kate Beckett plays it close to the vest.
The detective looks up again. "Fine... I think."
Huh?
Lanie frowns. "You think? What the hell does that mean?"
Kate is inspecting her hands intently. "Well, we sort of didn't have time to finish the conversation." At Lanie's confused expression, she continues. "We went for coffee, but were interrupted by his agent."
"Oh."
There is a beat of silence.
"I basically told him that I was in love with him," Kate blurts out suddenly, her heart beating erratically again. She told Richard freakin' Castle that she was in love with him.
Holy crap.
Lanie's eyes snap up to hers. "You what?"
Kate returns a close-lipped smile and shrugs, a faint blush shading her cheeks. "Yeah. I told him that my heart kinda... belongs to him," she says, biting her lower lip.
There are a few seconds of silence before the ME squeals like a fangirl, jumps up and pulls Kate into a hug, startling the detective into hugging back.
"Seriously? Damn girl, I'm so proud of you. It took you long enough!"
Kate chuckles lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I know."
Lanie looks at eagerly, hoping for details. "So? What did he say?"
"Well, that's kinda where our conversation ended. He didn't get the chance to respond because his agent interrupted us."
Damn. Damn it to hell.
"I hate his agent," Lanie mutters, slumping down next to her friend; a fierce frown lining her forehead.
Kate laughs lightly, amusement spilling into the sound. "You and me both."
The two women fall into silence for a moment, lost in thought before the petite ME asks:
"So you two are still going to talk, right? I mean this isn't... over?" Lanie is watching her with expectant, hopeful eyes.
Such a shipper.
"No, no definitely not. We're still going to talk this out. We need to talk about what happened and about where to go from here." Kate glances at her friend, a smile toying with her mouth. "At least we have his mother's blessing."
[][][]
'It's clear that you and Castle have something real.'
Royce's words ring in her head, whirling around on a roller coaster of emotions. She doesn't want to look at him, she doesn't want to talk to him. She can feel him watching her, expectant and hopeful. She has nothing to offer him, except the memory of those few hours of shared heat and the breathless tangling of their bodies. She cannot offer him more than that. Not now. Not when she has to bury her training officer and the first man she truly fell in love with. Not when she has someone waiting at home for, someone who gave up his dream to chase her. Not when she doesn't know what is up or down. She's a mess and he deserves more than that.
'And you're fighting it.'
He doesn't say anything. He sits in his seat, smiles at the attractive flight attendant and makes polite small talk with the businessman across the aisle. She is ignoring him, shutting him out, rebuilding that wall in her heart that he managed to dismantle last night.
It hurts like a sonofabitch.
He desperately wants to hold her hand, kiss her cheek, make a lewd joke about her joining him for a little mid-flight delight. He doesn't though. He sees this for what it is. Kate Beckett being Kate Beckett. They kiss, they almost die frozen in each other's arms, but they never talk about it.
This is going to be no different.
Rick glances at her again, hoping to catch her eye, hoping for something - anything - but she has her head turned away from him, staring out of the window. His chest is tight, his heartbeat tripping as he takes her in. How the sunlight paints her graceful features in shadows, accentuating the sharp edges of her cheekbones; how the soft curls tumble over her shoulders in glossy waves; how her skin gleams in the dusk light, smooth and silky and warm to the touch. But he won't reach out to touch her, feel her thrum with life underneath the exploration of his fingers. Instead, he turns away from her, taking his offered heart back.
Apparently, she doesn't want it.
'But trust me, putting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we're alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder: If only.'
She watches the rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps, the sharp angles of his profile, the large, solid landscape of his body while Royce's words echo throughout her mind:
If only.
If only.
If only.
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He's not expecting anyone to be waiting when he walks into his home, quietly shutting the door and tiredly pealing off his coat. He pulls out his phone, walking to the living room, and considers calling Kate. But it's already past eleven (he had another meet-and-greet to do after the TV interview) and she's probably asleep and he doesn't know exactly what to-
"Hey, Dad."
Rick's head snaps up, startled by the sudden and soft intrusion of his daughter's voice. She peers at him over the edge of the couch, an unfamiliar vulnerability etched onto her young, lovely features.
"Hey, Pumpkin. What are you doing up?" He asks, sitting down next to her.
"Reading." She lifts a worn copy of Wuthering Heights in answer.
He quirked an eyebrow, his mouth curving. "Mmm. A tragic love story filled with betrayal and heartbreak and scandal. It's a little dark and depressing, don't you think?"
Alexis shrugs, her eyes on the book in her hands. "Maybe. It's no Pride and Prejudice, but at least Hareton and Cathy get their happily ever after, right?" Her tone drips with sarcasm, with a degree of disillusionment that her father doesn't like to hear. At all.
Rick frowns at his daughter, his little girl. Alexis Castle is not known for cynicism. It doesn't suit her. She fervently and beautifully believes in happily ever afters and fate and true love and that two completely different, random people could be destined to spend the rest of their lives together.
"Alexis, sweetheart-"
"-Kate was here today," she interrupts quietly, rubbing a finger over the spine of the book, not meeting her father's eyes.
He sucks in a breath. She was here? Well, that would explain his daughter's melancholy mood. Her affection for the dark-haired detective has waned considerably over the last couple of months.
"Oh," he responds, weaving a hand through his hair. "Did... did you talk to her?"
He can see her jaw work, the tension flexing in her shoulders. She's too young for this. "Yes."
He nods slowly and purses his lips. To say Alexis was feeling some hostility towards Kate Beckett would be an understatement. He never wanted her to find out what had happened between him and the beautiful detective, but his impulsive decision to go on a book tour and stop shadowing Beckett and basically to kill off the Nikki Heat-series had clued her in. Not to mention the candid discussion (read: heated argument) she overheard that he had with his mother about the situation with Kate.
"Okay," he says slowly because he cannot think of any other response. He is still watching his daughter closely and she is still avoiding his eyes.
She lets out a shaky breath and sniffles, making him instinctively pull her closer. What the hell happened between his daughter and the woman he loves?
"Alexis, what happened?"
There's a moment of silence. "S-she came here to see you, Dad. And when she saw it was me, she tried to explain what had happened between you two. What she did." Bitterness laces her words, the sound wrapped up in sorrow. She swallows past the burning lump in her throat and tries to see past the watery mass in her eyes.
"I- I told her to basically leave us alone. Not to call or to come here again."
Oh, Alexis.
Rick exhales and presses the heel of his hand into his eye, his shoulders sagging. "Pumpkin, I'm sorry-"
"You saw her too, didn't you?" Her voice is a whisper, her tone like a shadow. "I overheard Grams telling her where you were."
He looks up at her again and purses his lips, waiting a moment before answering. "Yes. Yes, I did."
"And?"
"Well, we talked and it... went well, but we didn't get a chance to finish. So, we'll probably meet again sometime to, you know, discuss everything."
Alexis nods slowly, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "So, what happens after that, Dad?" She lifts her still wet eyes to his. "You're going to go back to following her around like some lovesick puppy?"
Jeez, not pulling any punches.
His heart is aching for her because she was there when he fell apart, when he spiraled into the depths of depression, when he couldn't be her father. "I don't know what is going to happen, Alexis. I don't know how this story ends or how it will go between us. But I do know that I love her very much and that she loves me too." He pauses. "She's the one."
They are quiet for a while.
"Dad, are you sure? Are you sure about Kate?" She asks, questions in her eyes and the urge to protect him colouring every word. "If you are and if she makes you happy, then I'll support it. I'll support you," she concludes softly, her eyes boring into his.
He brushes a hand through her hair and hugs her closer. He watches his daughter for a while - this beautiful, intelligent, grown-up young woman. One of the few things he has done right.
His mouth lifts into a tender smile, his eyes tinted with affection. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm sure."
Because I cannot live without my life.
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She dreams about him that night. It might be Josh's arms around her, it might be his breath skirting over her cheek, it might be his large hand spread over her skin, but it's Richard Castle she dreams about. How his hands ignited her into a blazing inferno; how his mouth painted promises on the canvas of her body; how his eyes stroked her with adoration.
How he loved her.
They didn't talk about it when they left the hotel. They didn't talk about it when they boarded the plane. They didn't talk about it throughout the flight. They didn't talk about it when they landed. They didn't say anything when they parted ways. It's as if nothing happened. They went back to just being Castle and Beckett, writer and muse. Rick back to his corner of acquiescence and Kate back to her corner of denial.
But under the cover of darkness - hidden from view - and in the shadowy corners of her heart, the truth slowly reveals itself, illuminating her dreams with promises of happiness: Kate Beckett is in love with her partner.
[][][]
When Kate opens the door at 7am on Sunday morning, Richard Castle is standing in front of her with coffee, bear claws and a sparkling smile.
"Castle, hi!" She cannot help but smile back, her whole face coming to life.
"Morning, Detective," he greets, brushing past her.
She shuts the door and follows him towards the kitchen, a little taken aback and thrilled by his presence. Her heart is pounding, the rhythm erratic and faltering. "W-what are you doing here?" She asks, weaving hand through her hair, realising belatedly that she's still in her pajamas.
He turns back and looks at her, suddenly serious. "Get dressed. We're going for a walk." He pauses for a moment and regards her carefully. "There are a few things we need to discuss."
A/N: *Scratches head* Eh, this turned out completely different than what I had in my head. The characters basically took over. So, yeah. I hope it was okay. I didn't want them to have that discussion in the setting that they were in. And I really wanted some of the other characters to act as soundboards for Rick and Kate. In the next chapter, we will eventually have Rick and Kate talk about everything that has happened between them. So, stay tuned.
Thanks for reading and please review. I would love to hear your thoughts.
I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I will correct them if I see any.