Chapter Twelve

Kate comes to gradually, the strong pull of sleep slow to release her from its clutches, and catching sight of the clock, she tries to focus on the glowing red numbers. Five thirty. Too early to be awake considering how late they'd stayed up last night, learning, exploring, branding each other over and over again.

Lying flat on her stomach, her face smashed sideways into the pillow, she registers a heavy, but not unpleasant, warmth along her entire body. His large hand rests on her abdomen, his arm coiled around her waist, his broad chest flush against her shoulder blade, but it's his firm thigh tucked between her own that completes the feeling of comfort and bliss.

And nothing has ever felt better.

Every steady puff of air he expels coasts along her naked back, spreading goose bumps in its wake. Smiling, she scratches her fingernails through the fine hairs on his forearm, remembering the way he'd held her last night, surrounded her body as he'd driven her to the edge of ecstasy, proving that they are just as in sync here as they'd always been at the precinct.

He'd been…incredible. Selfless, adventurous, loving. So much more than she could have ever imagined. The way he'd touched her, the way he'd looked at her, someone to treasure, someone special, and she'd realized sometime before finally falling asleep in his arms, body humming and sated, that this was how it was supposed to be.

This is what truly connecting with someone is supposed to feel like.

Startling her out of her memories, his arm tightens as he nuzzles into the stretch of skin at the top of her spine, leaving sleepy, messy kisses everywhere he touches.

"Morning, beautiful," he mumbles as his open mouth presses against the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, the tip of his tongue peeking out. She shivers at the caress, already feeling the heat spread through her, every single nerve ending coming alive under his ministrations.

Wiggling her hips to dislodge him just a little, she spins in his embrace, facing him for the first time this morning, grinning at the adorable, sexy picture he makes. His hair is a rumpled mess, strands sticking up in every direction, his cheeks embedded with lines from sleeping in the same position all night, but his eyes are what really catch her attention. Clear blue, radiant and bright, they're filled with an openness, an affection that she'd started to believe she'd never get to see.

She traces the pad of her index finger over his forehead, following a path down his cheek until she can smooth it over the plump flesh of his lower lip, delighting in the way his cheeks color, responding so easily to her barely-there contact.

"Good morning, Castle," she whispers just before covering his mouth with her own, desperate for a taste of him. Looping her leg around his waist, she buries her fingers in his hair, her tongue dipping into the warm cavern of his mouth as she rolls her hips.

His hands press against the base of her spine, drawing her ever closer, and she groans at the searing heat of him. With no warning at all, he slides home, and she throws her head back as a strangled gasp escapes from her throat.

And when his mouth lands on the skin of her neck and collarbones, his teeth nipping, his tongue soothing, no doubt leaving spots that she'll have for days, she can't find it in her to be upset or to make him stop. The idea of being marked as his, claimed by him, sends a flush of arousal straight to her core, wiping her mind clear of everything except him.

This man, this wonderful man has a capacity for forgiveness that she'd never have imagined, a heart bigger than his image portrayed, and she closes her eyes, letting the feel of his heartbeat, the sound of his voice, the scent of them both consume her body and soul.


She stretches out along the bed, blanket and sheets long ago shoved to the floor, as Castle nuzzles his lips against her stomach. Tucking one of her hands beneath her head, the other rhythmically traces through his hair, twisting the soft, short strands around her fingers as he dusts kisses across her skin.

"Castle," she moans, shivering as he nips at the curve of her breast. "I have to get ready for work."

His cocky grin presses into the center of her chest, his hands skating up her sides, and if she had any higher brainpower left, she'd knock that smile right off his face.

"Call in sick."

Crawling up her body, he plants his elbows on either side of her, his tongue dipping into the hollow base of her throat, his teeth dragging along the sensitive tendons in her neck, and she arches her back, unable to stop her reaction to him.

"God, Castle. I-I can't." She takes a deep breath, attempting to get her traitorous body under control. "I have a case. I need to shower."

"Mmm. We can shower together. Save time."

Laughter bursts from her chest, breaking the spell surrounding them, and she uses the distraction to wrap her legs around his waist, flipping him to his back, hopefully, before he realizes what's going on.

His face breaks into a look of awe laced with a healthy bit of arousal as he stares up at her. Good. She can still surprise him. Twining their fingers together, she pushes his hands into the mattress on either side of his head, leaning down so her nose is inches from his.

"If I let you anywhere near my shower with me, I'll never make it to work on time." Her stomach chooses that moment to make itself known, and she smiles, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. "Food and coffee, that's what you're going to do. Feed me, Castle. I need sustenance."


He stays on her bed, legs outstretched and face pointed toward the ceiling, for several minutes after she disappears into the bathroom. He'd hoped she'd leave the door open, a silent invitation to join her despite her refusal earlier, but no such luck. The door is shut, lock clicked into place to keep him and his wandering fingers away.

But he can't be too disappointed. After all, he's just spent the majority of the night and so far at least one daytime hour thoroughly buried in her, surrounded by her, and he needs a moment to recover. He rolls over, burying his face in her pillow, inhaling the scent of her infused in the soft cotton fabric, and sends thanks the universe for shoving them together last night. For knowing what they needed even if they couldn't see the truth themselves.

Shivering as the AC kicks on, the vent shooting a puff of cool air over his naked back, he flips, and, sitting up, allows his feet to hang off the side of the bed. He rubs his eyes, trying to clear the Kate Beckett shaped fog from his brain as he looks around, attempting to locate his boxers and t-shirt.

The shirt is crumpled in the doorway, boxers shoved so far behind her dresser that he has to lie flat on the floor to reach them - how in the world they flew there last night he has no idea - and when he's finally dressed, he makes his way out into the kitchen, stopping first at her coffee pot to get it started.

Coffee. This feels right. Waking up next to her, making her coffee and bringing her a cup that he knows will put a smile on her face. This is how it's supposed to be for them. This is what he's dreamed about for so long.

He opens her refrigerator, expecting it to be filled with just as many science experiments and styrofoam boxes as it had been the night he'd stayed at her old apartment just days before it went up in flames, but he's pleasantly surprised to find it full of food. Real food. Fresh fruit and vegetables, a carton of milk, eggs, cheese, lunchmeat, and all well within their freshness dates. Two Tupperware containers with delicious smelling, home-cooked leftovers are sitting together on the top shelf, and there's even a package of bacon in the freezer, sans any furry growth.

Looking over his shoulder at her open bedroom door, he pictures her moving about the bathroom, getting ready for her day, and he smiles. He's definitely curious about what brought about this change in her eating habits, but he's also happy to leave the question unanswered, to leave a few of her mysteries unsolved.

One step at a time.

For now, he'll fry up some of that bacon, fix her an omelet stuffed with all sorts of good things, and add a slice or two of toast. She said sustenance, and that's exactly what she'll get.


"Oh my god, Castle. That smells amazing."

He's just putting butter on the last piece of toast when she yells from the bedroom. The rest of the food is keeping warm in the oven - although he's been sneaking strips of bacon, unable to help himself once the first piece came off the skillet.

Grabbing the plates, he finishes setting the table, and, heading back to the kitchen, he grabs his coffee mug, taking a sip of the bitter liquid while he waits for her.

"Oh, Castle, this looks amazing."

She comes into his field of vision, the mug of coffee that he'd left on her nightstand cradled against her chest, and she stops to look at the table before making eye contact with him. He's stunned speechless at the sight of her. A glorious smile brightens her eyes, her hair pulled back into a simple knot, and it leaves the sloping lines of her neck exposed. Wow.

And just in case that's not torture enough, she's wearing a blazer and tie combo that has him just itching to haul her back to her bedroom where he'll use that skinny piece of black silk to render her hands completely unusable. He'll trace every inch of her skin, hold her down while he brings her right to the edge with his fingers and tongue over and-

"Castle? Are you okay?"

He blinks, surprised to find her standing in front of him, and, oh damn, she smells incredible too. How he was able to suppress these feelings for so long, he will never understand, but right now he has zero self-control. Not when she's standing there without shoes, pink painted toes tucked between his own bare feet, peering up at him with this smug look in her eyes, like she knows exactly what she's doing to him.

Oh. Oh, she does know exactly what she's doing. She planned this outfit specifically to drive him crazy. Wicked, wicked woman. Well, two can play that game.

His hands land on either side of her neck, spinning them so her back is to the counter, and he crowds his body against hers as his mouth descends. Swallowing her surprised squeak, he smiles when it turns into a desperate, needy moan, and he definitely needs to hear that sound again. Tonight. That's tonight's goal.

As quickly as the kiss begins, it's over. He lets her go, moving to the table, and, pulling her chair out, he glances back over his shoulder, amused by the dazed, breathless look on her face. Serves her right.

"Come on, Kate. Don't want it to get cold."

Her fingers land over her lips as her eyes focus on him, a kittenish grin beginning to escape, and he matches it, can't help but share the quiet joy and wonder with her. She sits in her seat, and he leans down to place a kiss just behind her ear before he moves to sit next to her.


They eat in relative silence for several minutes, each shoving forkfuls of food in their mouths one after another. He's really outdone himself this time, and she nudges his foot with her toes, smiling at him in appreciation when he looks up from his plate. He grins back around a rather large mouthful of omelet, and she laughs, shaking her head at the ridiculous picture he makes. Sweet, adorable man.

Picking up a piece of bacon, she watches him eat, half his breakfast already gone from his plate, and her eyebrows furrow. They need to talk about Alexis, but this morning has been so perfect that she's afraid to ruin it by bringing up the one subject that makes his eyes shutter and his shoulders tense.

But they can't avoid it forever and if this is a thing, a real thing that they're doing then they have to be able to have these conversations. They have to learn how to communicate properly if they are ever going to last.

Now is as good a time as ever to start taking steps in that direction.

"Castle?"

His eyes cut back to hers, jaw working as he chews his bit of toast, and her stomach ties up in knots at the changes happening in his expression. His own eyebrows draw together and he swallows hard, taking a sip of his water before he speaks.

"Yeah?"

Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she tries to decide how to bring it up, but there is no sugar coating, no sensitivity that will get them where they need to be. She chooses to just dive in, damn the consequences. Now that she's here with him, now that she knows what it's like to be with him, she'll fight every step of the way to keep this, to keep him, no matter what.

"We need to talk about Alexis."

He groans, dropping his head into the cradle of his hands, his palms rubbing into his eye sockets. "Kate."

"I know and I'm sorry but Castle, this is important."

Ripping his fingers through his hair, he looks back up at her, eyes flashing and mouth set in a firm line. Exactly the response she'd expected but wanted to avoid.

"You don't think I know that? This is my daughter we're talking about. I'm not blind, Kate."

She takes a deep breath, keeping her voice calm and gentle, determined to keep this a conversation instead of a fight.

"Then why won't you talk to me about it?"

"Why can't you let me come to you for advice like I do every other time I don't know what to do about her?"

Opening her mouth to respond, her thoughts become stuck behind the lump in her throat, and she looks down into her lap, studying her fingers, taking a moment. She smoothes the fabric of her slacks before she meets his gaze again.

"Because I'm worried about her. I care about her too."

"Aren't you going to be late for work?"

"Cast-"

He puts a hand up. "No, no. I'm not- I don't mean-" Pausing, he takes a deep breath. "I just mean there isn't really time for this now. Come over for dinner tonight. Mother has plans and Alexis is still at Princeton. It'll just be us and we can talk then."

The butterflies in her stomach begin to dissipate, and she nods. "Okay."

"Okay."

He smiles, a gentle, slow thing that smoothes his features, and reaches across the table, holding his palm up in a silent request. Feeling her own cheeks lift in response, she settles her hand in his, squeezing to let him know that she's good, that they're good.

It'll take time. Time to open up, to get over the hurt and the pride, to learn how to talk to each other, but these steps are important. One by one, these steps are right, and she's ready to put in the work.

They finish eating, leaving their fingers tangled between them while sneaking shy glances at each other, and all too soon it's time for her to go. After gathering all the dishes, she slips on her heels, delighting in how his eyes widen as he watches from where he's leaning against the kitchen counter, the perfect picture of domesticity.

Walking up to him, she drapes her arms over his shoulders, leaning in to capture his mouth in a brutal kiss. It's quick and dirty, leaving them both breathless, and she licks her bottom lip, savoring the taste of him.

"Don't forget to lock up when you leave."

Tugging her just a little closer, he tucks his fingers below the hem of her pants, brushing the edge of her underwear, and she shivers. "Yup. Quick shower and then I'm outta here. I'm feeling…surprisingly inspired. Itching to get some writing done."

A cocky grin stretches across his face, and she rolls her eyes.

"Hmm. I can't imagine why."

"No. No idea whatsoever."

She laughs, nuzzling her nose against his, almost giddy with how ridiculous they're being, but she can't be embarrassed, has no desire to change it. This happiness is what she's been waiting for.

"I really have to go."

His mouth lands against the side of her neck as he bumps their hips together, his voice husky when it reaches her ears. "Go, Kate. You're gonna be late."

She groans, wondering what the hell has happened to her innate sense of responsibility and self-control. What is he doing to her? Each movement of his hands, each touch of his tongue is fanning the flames of desire and it takes a serious act of willpower to finally pull her body away.

She can feel the heat in her cheeks, the flush that's racing down her neck and disappearing beneath her shirt, but she keeps backing up, getting out while she has some grasp on reality left. Lifting her hand, she touches her fingertips to her lips before she gestures to him. Blowing him a kiss.

See? Ridiculous.

But he reaches up, pretending to catch it before he presses his open palm against his heart, and she melts. "I'll see you later, Kate."

"Later, Castle."


Kylie and Jo, I couldn't have chosen better if I'd hand picked you out of a petri dish. xoxo