Author's Note: Meant to post earlier but the site's been annoying. At any rate, without further ado, the last chapter, which is pretty much pure, unadulterated fluff. Enjoy!
For All That You Are
Chapter 12
Consciousness returned to Kate piecemeal, a series of vague realizations dawning on her sluggish mind in turn. She wasn't in her own bed; she was naked and, oh, she wasn't alone. She opened her eyes to see Castle and full awareness returned to her in a rush. Oh. Oh, right. Entirely unbidden, her lips curved into a soft smile, echoing the swell of warmth in her chest.
The pale gray light of early morning was filtering in through the curtains, providing enough illumination for her to see Castle, still sound asleep. Her internal body clock and the quality of the light told her it was still early, even by her standards, giving her plenty of time to study Castle.
She was the one who teased him for creepy staring but she was beginning to understand his fondness for it. She'd never seen Castle asleep before, looking younger and more vulnerable with his expression so open and at ease. The comforter had been pulled up but had ended up bunched across his stomach, the start of where the muscles of his chest tapered into his abdomen—her mouth went a little dry—and she tore her gaze back to his face. His hair was tousled, strands sticking up every which way (boyishly), and his chin was dark with morning stubble (not so boyishly). There was the barest hint of a smile curving his lips and she could see the faint tracing of lines around his eyes and mouth, evidence of all his smiles during the day.
Yeah, he was adorable (and sexy).
And she was… smitten.
She felt herself flush and turned her face into the pillow in a stupid, irrational attempt to hide her face and then was momentarily glad that no one, including Castle, was around or awake to see her.
Ugh, what was it about him that seemed to make her act nearly as childish as he did?
Not that what he had done to her—or what she had done to him—overnight had been childish at all.
She blushed hotter at the unbidden thought, memories, images, flooding her mind, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress, the touch of his clever hands and possibly even more clever lips and tongue—no, stop it. She cut off the parade of sensual images. That way lay too much temptation because it was morning and they couldn't just lie around in bed all day because there was Alexis—oh crap, Alexis.
Kate froze, abruptly remembering that they were in his loft, his loft which was also home to his teenage daughter and his mother, and she… she hadn't planned for this either. She was abruptly overwhelmed because she'd just slept with Castle for the first time and they were going to need to tell his mother and his daughter; she was going to need to face his mother and his daughter and she could only imagine how awkward that encounter would be. She'd never met the mother of a boyfriend the morning after the first night—had she just thought of Castle as her boyfriend?—and she'd never dated anyone who had a kid before and oh god, what would Alexis think? She'd spent enough time with Alexis to feel as if the girl viewed her as a friend, the lunch after Kyra's wedding came to mind or Alexis's concern the other day, but it had to be weird as a teenager to see your dad date and then to know your dad had started sleeping with someone who had become something of a friend to you as well…
As usual, when she got agitated, she felt the need to be up and moving, couldn't simply lie still, and she slowly, carefully extricated herself from the bed, from Castle's leg tangled with hers, from his hand still loosely gripping hers, and retreated into the bathroom.
She was expecting to look like a mess—and she did, rather, her hair tousled with sleep (and sex) and there were—oh—small telltale marks on the side of her neck, her collarbone, lower—but for all that, she looked… happy too, her eyes brighter than Kate remembered seeing in a long time, a tiny, irrepressible smile flirting with the corners of her lips as she washed, contemplated showering but decided not to risk waking him, and dressed.
He was still sleeping soundly when she returned to his bedroom, gathering her necklace with her mother's ring and her dad's watch from the nightstand where she'd placed them last night. She paused, staring down at him, and he stirred, his head shifting away from her as he made a snuffling sort of noise.
And she had been debating sneaking out of the loft right then, with just a note or something, and leaving the talk with Martha and Alexis for another time when she wasn't doing the equivalent of a walk of shame—but at that moment, looking down at him, she knew she couldn't do that.
She would have done it. With any other man in a similar situation, she would have done it, dealing with messiness and awkwardness the way she usually did, by running, avoiding as much as she could. Meeting family members was a big step in a relationship, one she usually pushed off as long as possible. She hadn't met Will's parents until they'd been dating for more than four months and that first meeting had been at a restaurant, a carefully neutral spot. And it had been even longer than that before she'd introduced Will to her dad.
God, she was so bad at this. Relationships, getting involved in any real way beyond the merely physical.
But she'd promised to try to get better, for Castle, with Castle. And that also meant accepting his family, being accepted by his family. Castle came as a package deal, as it were; there was no way to really have a relationship with him without also inevitably spending more time with Alexis and Martha. And it wasn't fair to Castle to expect or want him to spend many (or most) of his nights at her apartment; he had Alexis to think of and she couldn't—wouldn't—ask him to be any less devoted to Alexis.
Anyway, this whole meeting-the-family thing would be different with her and Castle. Had to be. Because she already knew his family, had already been accepted by Martha and Alexis with all that open-hearted warmth that seemed to characterize the entire family. Just like Castle had already met her dad. She and her dad had already been over for Thanksgiving dinner with Castle's family.
It had been different, inevitably, when she had just been Castle's friend but in a way, it also made it easier, didn't it? No awkward introductions as Castle's girlfriend to be made. (Oh god, she was Richard Castle's girlfriend…)
She could do this, couldn't she? Somehow, fit herself into life at the loft with Castle and his family?
It still seemed like too much, way too fast, like making assumptions of permanence and… family and… and things that came along with that.
But this was Castle and for him, for the man who'd invited her and her dad over to have Thanksgiving dinner with his family, who had paid a small fortune of his own money without batting an eye for a chance at catching her mom's killer, who did so much to try to make her smile and laugh—she wanted to be better, more open.
She was terrified—but she wanted it.
And she wanted to show him.
She crept carefully out of his bedroom and into the main room of the loft, heading to the kitchen.
His coffee machine was ridiculously complicated. It looked as if it were designed not only to make coffee but also possibly to cook breakfast, clean the kitchen, and then transmit messages to the moon while it was at it.
She grimaced. She was a competent, capable, intelligent adult. There was no reason she couldn't figure out how to operate the machine. It took a few false starts and more time than she would ever admit to anyone but she did, eventually, succeed in figuring the machine out and waited until the familiar, wonderful scent of coffee started to permeate the kitchen before wandering to the door of the loft to retrieve the newspaper.
She paged through the Ledger rather idly at first, only to stiffen and sit bolt upright as the headline of a small article in the City section caught her eye. Oh. She supposed she shouldn't be that surprised—it wasn't every day that shots were fired inside a police precinct—but somehow she was. With her emotional reaction to all that had happened, it hadn't occurred to her that her shooting of Dick Coonan might garner attention beyond the precinct itself. And yet, there it was in the paper. A small squib of an article that, thankfully, didn't identify her by name but only as a homicide detective at the 12th, while giving Dick Coonan's name and noting that he had been revealed to be a contract killer, suspected of a number of homicides. The article was mercifully sparse on details as to how the shooting had happened, saying only that it had been in the middle of an attempt on Coonan's part to escape and that the detective who fired the shot had been cleared of any wrongdoing.
Oh god. She stared at the article until the text started to blur before her eyes. Her happiness of the morning faded as the emotional ramifications from yesterday returned to her in a rush. She'd killed him. Dick Coonan, the man who'd killed her mother. She'd killed the man who killed her mother.
After all these years.
How many times had she wondered about this, thought about finally catching her mother's killer?
She'd thought it would feel… different. Better, somehow. Thought it wouldn't hurt. But that wasn't true.
She closed her fist around her mother's ring, shutting her eyes against the prick of tears. She had found her mother's killer and as incomplete as it was, had gotten a measure of justice.
Dick Coonan would never kill again.
A beeping sound had her starting, only to realize that the sound had come from the coffee machine to indicate that the coffee was ready.
Coffee. Yes, that was what she needed.
She poured two cups, one for herself and one for Castle, and felt a little tendril of warmth taking root in her chest, banishing some of the chill.
Her mother was still gone and that still hurt, as it always would, but she had gotten a measure of justice. And she wasn't alone anymore. As if in affirmation of that, she prepared first her coffee and then his, just the way he liked it.
Her first cup of coffee in the morning was always a solitary affair, a few minutes before she left her apartment for the day. Not today, not anymore.
The two coffees in hand, she returned to his bedroom.
She'd hoped that he would still be asleep but she found him sitting up, a rather lost expression on his face that immediately faded at her entrance, his eyes brightening, the beginnings of a smile curving his lips.
"You're still here," he breathed.
Oh. She felt her heart twist a little at the wonder in his voice that revealed probably more than he'd intended about how he'd felt when he'd woken up to an empty bed. And if she'd needed confirmation that she'd been right to stay, she had it in that moment. The thought of how he would have felt if he'd found her gone almost made her flinch and it occurred to her, again, that he was vulnerable too.
He was so… good. For all that he irritated her at times, he was a good man, a kind man, and braver than she'd ever given him credit for being. He'd risked his life for her, did so much to make her smile, make her life easier, and this in spite of her own prickly defenses, her guardedness.
He deserved more. More than her walls and reticence, more than what she'd given him.
It wasn't going to be easy but she wanted to try, would get better.
And that started now.
She gave him a small smile as she set their coffees down on the nightstand and perched on the bed, her hip nudging his leg. "I brought you coffee."
He didn't even glance at the coffee, only focused his gaze—his eyes so very bright, filled with a light she couldn't ever remember seeing before—on her. "Kate. You… okay?" he asked, softly, the question sounding a little hesitant, cautious.
God, what had he seen in her expression? Lingering traces of her emotion over the article about Dick Coonan's shooting? How did he read her so well? She abruptly felt transparent, exposed, and she didn't like it, never liked feeling so… bare, unprotected.
"Well, sleeping in your very comfortable bed was a hardship but I survived," she quipped. And then could have kicked herself. She was doing it again, hiding behind humor, deflecting from the emotion of the moment. (Odd, she'd never realized before that they had that in common, that they both found it easier to deflect from emotion with humor and teasing. She was more prickly than he was but they were both good at avoidance.)
She wasn't going to do this anymore. (At least, she was going to try not to.) She didn't have to do this anymore, hide like this. She trusted Castle. She did. She should act like it.
"Happy to share my bed with you anytime," he returned lightly but there was a wealth of sincerity, of real emotion, in his expression.
She grimaced a little and lifted a hand to touch his cheek, her fingers ruffling the soft hair above his ear, and she wasn't sure if it was conscious or not, the way he tilted his head slightly into the caress. "Sorry, can I revise my answer?"
A faint smile quirked his lips. "Permission granted."
She let out a breath, meeting his eyes. "There's a little article in the paper about what happened," she told him quietly. "It just… brought it back for a moment."
Something flickered in his eyes, a shadow crossing his face. "Kate…"
She silenced him by brushing her thumb against his lips. "I'm okay though. Really." She paused, hesitated. Damn it, this was hard. She wasn't used to this sort of openness, not with anyone, really. Even with her dad, she tried to edit her words, tried to gloss over her own troubles to keep him from worrying. "Being here helps," she admitted, almost having to push the words out. Being with him helped, but that more personal sentiment got caught in her throat.
She was rewarded by the light in his eyes, the smile that curved his lips. And then he was sliding his hand into her hair and tugging her forward to kiss her and she closed her eyes and decided fuzzily that she could definitely get used to this sort of positive reinforcement for being open with him.
He drew back slowly and she actually needed to blink a couple times to clear her muzzy brain but then, her composure was not at all assisted by the way he looked at her. Would she ever get used to the way he looked at her, as if she was the sum of all his dreams? (No.) Her breath stuttered in her chest.
"You brought me coffee," was all he said, though, after a moment.
"I did." She fought back a blush, the sudden urge to twirl her hair like some teenage girl. "I figured it's the least I could do, after all I owe you." How many coffees had he brought her, after all?
His eyes abruptly clouded over. "You don't owe me anything," he told her with sudden intensity. "You saved my life and—"
Oh no, she hadn't meant… But she supposed they did need to talk about this. They were being open, she reminded herself. "So did you," she interrupted him. "Last year, in the case involving the fake purses." (When he'd slept with Meredith—but she shoved the irrelevant thought out of her mind. It didn't matter.) She tried for a smile but only managed a twitch of her lips. "So we're even on the life-saving score." Her smile faded. "And I still owe you. The money. Castle…"
"No, Beckett." It was his turn to interrupt her. "Don't even think you owe me for that. You don't. If you must, think of it as your share of the Nikki Heat profits—you should have gotten some anyway since if it weren't for you, Nikki Heat wouldn't even exist—and it's a smaller cut than Gina takes, as it is," he digressed.
She was momentarily thrown at this indication of how much money Nikki Heat had made for him, that $100,000 was only a small proportion of the total. She didn't know for sure but Gina's share as his publisher could not possibly be most of it and if what he'd paid was smaller than that…
"Oh my god, how rich are you?" she blurted out, inanely. "On second thought, don't answer that," she hastily added. She wasn't usually one for not wanting to know the truth but in this case, she was beginning to think ignorance might be bliss. She could guess—and her guesses were quite unnerving enough.
He was a multi-millionaire! And she was… just a cop. Her entire yearly salary was pocket change to him and even the money she'd inherited when her mom died was nothing compared to what he had.
"It's just money," he said.
Something only a rich person could ever say.
"It's not… it doesn't define who I am," he added. "It's not the most important thing about me. I'm just… me, okay, Kate?"
There was an odd thread of some emotion she couldn't quite identify in his voice, in his eyes, and she abruptly found herself remembering what that woman had called him at the MADT fundraiser last year, the white whale. She wasn't naive enough to think that Castle wouldn't have experienced the negatives that came along with fame and wealth, the sycophancy, the insincerity and ulterior motives. A year ago, it wouldn't have occurred to her to care; it wasn't as if mercenary motives would hurt the shallow jackass playboy she'd thought he was. Now, she knew better, knew him. She thought about the way he'd acted in the soup kitchen at Thanksgiving, thought about why he'd started to take Alexis there in the first place. The real man she'd come to know and… and care about.
She gave him a small smile. "'Just you' is plenty, Castle. I'm sure you don't need money to get into trouble," she teased, softening the words by touching his cheek with her fingertips.
He smiled, his expression easing as he caught her hand in his and turned his face to kiss her palm, sending tingles of pleasure radiating through every nerve from the spot he'd kissed. Mm… Oh god. If she'd wondered if the physical attraction between them would fade once they actually slept together, she had her answer. No, not yet. (Not ever?)
She grasped for some return to coherence. "Anyway," she managed as lightly as possible, "when I said I owed you, I was actually just thinking about all the coffee you've brought me."
"You don't owe me for those coffees either. All I ever wanted in exchange for the coffee was to see you smile."
Oh damn. It should have sounded like a clichéd line but it didn't, not from him, not at that moment. "Wow, Castle, you really are trying hard to be charming, aren't you?" she tried to tease.
He smirked at her. "Is it working?"
"I'll think about it," she quipped.
He laughed and (finally) picked up his coffee to take a sip before putting the cup down. "Good coffee."
"I think your specialty coffee beans and super-advanced coffee maker helped," she said rather dryly.
Rather to her surprise, he didn't respond with a quip or a smirk but instead looked a little uncertain for the first time since he'd seen her that morning. "Alexis is probably awake by now and she usually comes down for breakfast a little after 7. Do you need to leave, get ready for work?"
"Is this your way of subtly kicking me out, Castle?" she deadpanned teasingly.
"No!" he blurted out forcefully, his eyes widening in comical (and rather adorable) dismay. "No," he repeated more calmly.
She gave in to her smile. "Relax, Castle, I'm only teasing."
"Right." He gave her a quick half-sheepish smile. "Of course you're welcome to stay. I just wasn't sure what you wanted, if you wanted to stick around for breakfast or…" He trailed off and something inside her softened. She understood what he wasn't saying or asking, if she was okay with Alexis finding out about them, telling people, his family, about this new aspect of their relationship. He had said he wouldn't push her for declarations she wasn't comfortable with and he was keeping his promise. She knew that if she said she wasn't ready for anyone else to find out about them, wanted to keep this between themselves until they were more settled, he would agree. Not happily (she knew him well enough to know that) but he would agree.
She leaned in to kiss him quickly. "Captain Montgomery gave me the day off. So why don't you finish your coffee and get dressed and I'll start making breakfast."
"You're very sexy when you're bossy," he observed conversationally.
She smirked, to hide the ridiculous (delicious) little thrill that went through her at his words. (Oh, she did have it bad.) "You're strange."
He nodded with mock solemnity. "I pride myself on it."
She laughed, almost in spite of herself. He was just so… cute. And hers.
Wait, what?
Yeah, she decided, as she met his eyes, saw the familiar half-smirk curving his lips. Her heart might be fluttering wildly but she was entirely okay with him being hers. And she was his.
Oh god, what was she thinking?
Breakfast, she reminded herself, latching onto the mundane.
She squeezed his hand quickly in lieu of any other more intimate gesture that would, she didn't doubt, lead to both of them getting distracted and then picked up her own coffee and left his bedroom.
Right, making breakfast. And having another coffee.
Besides, Alexis was going to be down soon.
Back in the kitchen, she noted without surprise that the refrigerator was fully stocked with food and set herself to making eggs and bacon and taking out some fruit too.
She was, she realized as she cooked, surprisingly hungry. She usually had a quick breakfast on the run but today she felt like she wanted a real sit-down breakfast. She tried not to think about why that might be.
The scrambled eggs were plated up and she was just finishing up the bacon when Castle emerged, freshly showered and shaved and wearing a dark maroon shirt that she already knew would make the blue of his eyes appear brighter by contrast. (She had become really familiar with the effect the various colors of his shirts had on his eyes.) And she felt a charge of visceral attraction at his appearance that was so totally ridiculous because they'd been working together nearly every day for almost a year now and she'd mostly stopped reacting just to his appearance this way and they'd already slept together and one would really think the intensity of the attraction would have faded a little. It hadn't. At all.
His expression lit up. "I thought I smelled bacon. Coffee and eggs and bacon. I knew you were the perfect woman."
"Wow, you're easy, if you think making breakfast makes the perfect women."
He shrugged. "I already knew you more than meet my other requirements for perfection."
She felt herself flush, her heart giving a silly little flutter—damn, what he could do to her—but managed a light laugh. "Flattery will get you nowhere."
He waggled his brows at her in a teasing leer. "Oh no? You didn't seem to think that last night."
"Stop being so smug, Castle." She swatted at his hand but it was half-hearted at best and he knew it, blithely ignored it as he slid his arms around her waist. And she gave into his embrace without so much as a murmur, fitting against him as naturally as if they'd been doing this for years.
She looked up at him and he smiled, with less smugness this time. "Much better."
"Better?"
"Mm hmm, because now I can kiss you." He promptly suited action to the words and Kate sank into his kiss willingly.
The kiss ended slowly but only so his lips could skate along her chin up to the little hollow just before her earlobe and she tilted her head to give him better access on a gasp. Her gaze fell on the clock and a thought broke through her fuzzy mind and she made a weak attempt to twist out of his embrace.
"Castle."
"Hmm," he mumbled against her skin, having moved on so he was nuzzling the curve of her neck.
She struggled for coherence. "Castle—ohh," she broke off on a breathy little moan as his lips found her pulse point, "Alexis will be down soon."
The mention of Alexis did the trick and he released her, lifting his head, with palpable reluctance. "Right, thanks for reminding me."
She gave him a rueful smile. "I don't want to gross her out first thing in the morning."
His smile was soft as he dropped a kiss on her temple. "See, perfect woman."
"Don't be silly, Castle. I'm far from perfect," she returned but felt herself flushing in spite of herself. She turned away in a futile attempt to hide her blush, deliberately busying herself with their breakfast.
He followed her lead and they settled onto the stools at the kitchen island to eat.
It was just a couple minutes before Kate heard the sound of footsteps as Alexis came running lightly down the stairs, only to stop short at the foot of the steps as she caught sight of Kate. "Oh. Kate! You—uh, good morning," she finished so tentatively it sounded more like a question as the girl's eyes darted between Kate and her father.
Kate summoned as casual of a smile as she could (although she suspected it wasn't very.) "Good morning, Alexis."
Alexis's expression eased a little as her eyes rested on her dad. "Morning, Dad."
Castle gave Alexis a bright smile. "Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?"
"Yes, fine," Alexis answered automatically as she crossed the room, pausing on the other side of the kitchen island, her eyes bouncing between Kate and her dad. "Dad?" she began, a little uncertainly. "Are you and Kate, uh…"
Oh god. If Alexis wasn't okay with them being together… Kate didn't think that Castle would… end this—them—but he would be hurt. Alexis was the most important thing in Castle's life and he hated being at odds with Alexis. She suddenly remembered the argument Castle and Alexis had had over Dylan, Alexis's violin teacher, the look on Castle's face. She never wanted to see that sort of hurt and desolation on his face again.
Kate glanced at Castle, who gave her a look that said it's up to you, and then back at Alexis and gave the girl a small smile. "Yeah, we are," she confirmed quietly and then, after a moment, slid her hand over so her fingers were brushing Castle's. Castle linked his fingers with his. "Are you… okay with this, Alexis?" Kate asked, more tentatively than she'd have liked to sound.
Alexis blinked at their joined hands on the counter and then flashed a quick, soft smile. "Yeah, of course. It's like I said before, Dad's happier when you're around." Alexis's smile changed, becoming mischievous, making her resemblance to her dad abruptly apparent. "Besides, you can help me keep Dad out of trouble."
"Hey!" Castle objected. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Alexis snorted a little. "Sure you are, Mr. 'Let's Deep-Fry a Turkey.'"
"A guy burns off his eyebrows one time and he never hears the end of it. Geez, can't a guy make one mistake?" Castle pretended to grumble.
Kate elbowed him, relaxing and falling in with Alexis's teasing. "One mistake, huh?" she teased. "I guess it must've been the other writer that shadows me who forgot to silence his phone last year when we were trying to take a suspect by surprise."
Alexis smirked. "Yeah, see, Dad?"
Castle huffed. "I don't think I like the way you two gang up on me."
Alexis laughed as she poured herself a glass of orange juice. "I think you'd better get used to it, Dad." She shot Kate a conspiratorial grin. "Right, Kate?"
"Right," Kate agreed but softened the tease by leaning in so her upper arm rested against his and squeezing Castle's hand briefly.
He took advantage of her proximity to kiss her hair and then nuzzle her ear.
She smiled involuntarily but nudged him away, mindful of Alexis, who had tactfully averted her eyes but whose cheeks were abruptly as red as her hair. "Behave, Castle."
"Yeah, really, Dad. I'm happy you're happy but don't be gross, okay?"
That made Castle laugh. "Oh, fine. I'll be good, I promise. Now come eat your breakfast, Alexis."
She did, slipping onto the stool on Castle's other side. Castle easily slung an arm around Alexis's shoulders and leaned over to kiss the top of her head before whispering something into the girl's ear that had Alexis smiling before he released her so she could eat her breakfast.
Kate had expected it to feel a little awkward at first—it wasn't like she was normally privy to these daily conversations where Castle asked Alexis about her plans for the day—but somehow, it didn't feel awkward. Not even Kate's built-in caution, her reticence, was proof against the ease of Alexis's cheerful prattle. She could not quite get over the surprise of how open-hearted and welcoming Alexis was—not that she wanted Alexis to be otherwise—but it was just so foreign to Kate, used to her solitary life, used to editing her words even when she talked to her dad. But she liked it, she thought, in spite of the little flutter of… something… inside her, the tug on her heart, as she remembered relaxed mornings with her own parents, the realization of how… homey, how like a family, this whole morning felt.
The way Castle interacted with Alexis reminded her of the way her mom had interacted with her, the concern masked by the light teasing.
He was such a good dad. And her mom would have liked him for that too.
It was surprising how easy it was to relax into the warmth and the humor, and to realize that she and Castle had somehow fallen into acting much the same way her parents had acted with her. As if they were any normal family asking a kid about their day…
Family. It was a word, a feeling, that she'd hardly ever allowed herself to even dream of having again, not since her mom had died. Easier, safer, not to dream of what she didn't have, wasn't sure she could ever have again. But now, this morning, she thought maybe it wasn't so far out of reach after all.
Kate opened her mouth to make a laughing rejoinder to a story Alexis was telling when she lost not only her words but also her ability to concentrate on Alexis when Castle's hand migrated to rest on her knee, his thumb tracing idle circles over her kneecap. He wasn't looking at her, was still apparently focused on Alexis, but his hand remained on her knee.
She sternly corralled her senses into working order—or tried to, with limited success.
Fortunately for her, or something, it wasn't long before Alexis broke off. "Oh, I need to leave for school." She hurriedly slid off the stool, finished off her orange juice, and dropped a hasty kiss on Castle's cheek. "See you later, Dad. Bye, Kate."
"Have a good day at school, Alexis," Kate answered. And then felt another quick pang of something like pain, grief and longing stinging her again, at the memory of her mom saying the same words to her.
Alexis flashed a smile at Kate as she gathered up her school stuff. "I will, thanks, Kate."
"See you later, pumpkin."
And with a last smile and a wave, Alexis left and Castle turned to her, his smile immediately fading. "What is it?"
By now, she felt only the faintest flicker of surprise at Castle's ability to read her expression so easily. (She just wasn't sure if it was something about being with him that made her so apparently guileless or if it had more to do with how well he knew her. Or maybe it was a combination of the two.) She managed a faint smile. "Nothing. Just… memories," she offered, rather lamely.
His eyes softened and it should have bothered her since she usually hated pity but from Castle, she knew it wasn't pity he felt; it was different, warmer than that. She felt a little flutter of nerves because she didn't know if she was ready to share her memories. She generally didn't reminisce about her mom with anyone other than her dad; the memories hurt too much for her to speak of them easily. But then somewhat to her surprise, he didn't say anything more, didn't pry. He could undoubtedly guess at the sort of memories that had come to her mind but he wasn't going to ask. Warmth pooled in her chest, settled around her heart. He was giving her time, would allow her to open herself to him at her own pace.
He only slid his hand behind her neck to tug her in so he could brush his lips against her forehead, her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. She let out a quiet laugh. "Need to work on your aim there," she teased a little breathlessly.
She felt his smile against her skin and then (finally) he kissed her on the lips, soft and slow and utterly drugging. He tasted like coffee, she thought muzzily. Coffee and Castle—mm, yeah, kissing Castle was definitely her new favorite thing.
The door of the loft opened and they both jerked apart as Martha came swanning in, stopping as she saw Kate. "Why, Katherine! And Richard." Her too-knowing smile settled on her son. "I see I'm not the only one having to do the walk of shame this morning."
"Mother!" Castle exploded.
Kate couldn't help but laugh even as she blushed hotly. "Ah, good morning, Martha," she managed to say, as calmly as possible. Martha was overly blunt and tactless, yes, but somehow it was hard to take offense at it because the woman was also so warm and it was clear there wasn't a particle of disapproval in her teasing.
"Good morning, my dear," Martha greeted Kate. "Good morning, Richard." She paused and then arched an eyebrow at his silence. "Aren't you going to say good morning, Richard? And do stop glowering."
She glanced at Kate. "I swear I taught him proper manners, Katherine."
"Morning, Mother," Castle finally said, his tone not particularly warm.
Kate deliberately leaned in towards him, moving her hand to cover his. "Stop sulking, Castle. I'm a cop, remember, not some delicate flower."
That made him laugh. "No, you're certainly not that. You're my badass Beckett."
She raised her eyebrows at him and sternly bit back a smile. "Yours, huh?"
"It's only fair since I'm definitely yours," he blurted out hastily.
She couldn't even pretend irritation at his possessiveness after that. "Oh well, if you put it that way, I'd hate to be unfair," she managed to quip but the words were entirely softened by her smile.
"I knew you two would be adorable together," Martha interjected and Kate flushed. Oh damn, she'd nearly forgotten Martha was there and she didn't even know how that was possible, given Martha's outsized personality and presence. "And on that note, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Don't do anything I wouldn't do, kiddos, although that's not much." With a wave of her hand, Martha disappeared upstairs, somehow managing to give the impression of exiting from a stage.
Castle dropped his head and then lifted it to look at her. "Sorry about that," he grimaced. "My mother was born without a filter or any sense of tact."
"Don't worry about it. I don't mind your mom at all."
"That makes one of us," he muttered.
She swatted at him. "Castle, be nice."
"I'm very nice! I haven't kicked her out yet, have I?"
"Stop pouting."
Predictably, he didn't, only pulled an even more over-the-top pout. The sort of ridiculous expression that would have provoked a roll of her eyes on any other day but somehow this morning, even the mild irritation was just not happening. And she couldn't help but smile because he was just so… cute, and for all his pretend griping about Martha, she knew very well how much he cared about his mother and she just… liked him for it.
His expression changed as he abruptly blurted out, "You are so gorgeous when you smile."
She flushed and bit her lip but found she couldn't quite look away, her eyes held by his, so blue and so bright, and she thought fuzzily that 'like' wasn't the right word for what she felt for him at all. "You're not so bad yourself," she teased but her voice came out sounding more breathless than humorous.
He bridled in mock indignation. "Not so bad? I'm ruggedly handsome; it's a fact. The Ledger's consistently named me one of New York's Most Eligible Bachelors and they always talk about how good-looking I am."
She snorted. "Really, Castle? You're boasting about being named an eligible bachelor to your girlfriend? And you call your mother tactless."
He abruptly looked delighted. What? She belatedly realized what she'd said and felt herself flush. Damn it.
"Beckett, did you just call yourself my girlfriend? Can I tell Espo and Ryan you said so?"
Silly man. She reached out to grasp his ear. "Do you want me to twist your ear off?"
He pretended to cringe. "Apples!"
She released his ear and he pasted on a mock injured expression. "I thought you'd be nicer to me."
She leaned in closer to him, lowering her voice to become husky. "Wait until tonight and I'll show you just how nice I can be…"
He choked a little, his eyes immediately going midnight blue with a flare of lust.
She straightened up and smirked at him, sternly resisting the magnetic tug of attraction making her want to pull him in and start being "nice" right that minute.
"Why wait until tonight? You said you have the day off," he suggested with a somewhat exaggerated leer.
"Castle, I am not going to spend all day in bed with you when your mother is at home," she scolded—attempted to scold since she had the uneasy feeling that her tone came out sounding more affectionately indulgent than disapproving.
He put on a mock scowl. "I beg you, never mention my mother and my bed in the same sentence again."
She had to laugh. "Sorry," she said unrepentantly. "Anyway, just because I have the day off doesn't mean I don't have things I want to do. I should go see Lanie to talk to her about what happened yesterday since otherwise, she'll hunt me down and I'm having dinner with my dad tonight."
"But you'll come back here after dinner?" he asked hopefully.
"Maybe. If you're lucky," she quipped. (Untruthfully. She had every intention of coming back here. Possibly—probably—oh, who was she kidding, definitely—with a bag. She started mentally planning which items of her lingerie drawer should accompany her…)
He laughed and leaned in until their noses were almost brushing. "You're always going to give me a hard time, aren't you, Beckett."
"Count on it, Castle," she managed, a little breathlessly. His nearness made it hard to think straight, let alone breathe.
"Good," he murmured against her lips and then he kissed her.
She sank into his kiss and the vague thought flitted through her mind before dissipating along with every other coherent thought, this might be love...
~The End~
You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault.
- "Head Over Feet", Alanis Morissette
A/N 2: I'm pondering an epilogue but as it doesn't exist yet and I can't promise it will any time soon, I'm marking this complete. Thank you, everyone, who's read, reviewed, followed, or added this fic to their favorites, especially the guest reviewers whom I can't thank directly. I appreciate it all more than I can say.