Chapter Fourteen

Beckett feels it, too. She wants both ways for the both of them just as much as he does, but she's a cop, and she's realistic, and the possibility is very real that Castle might not be allowed to come back to the precinct. He may not have the opportunity to watch her back again, which frustrates her just as much as it does him. She couldn't ask for a better partner than him, and she didn't want to get stuck with some kid who didn't know how to clean his own nose… or worse… Sully, who didn't know how to clean his own desk. She shuddered at the thought.

Her fingers carded through the fine strands of his hair when he leaned back again, exhaustion catching up with him. She wondered if he drove to the Hamptons. His car wasn't in the driveway, but that didn't mean it wasn't in the garage. If he did, he deserved a royal kick in the ass that she would be only too happy to deliver. She hoped he had called a car service and didn't chance it behind the wheel when he was just so tired.

She looked around the house. Bottles of alcohol sat on the dining table, obviously collected from the cellar below, but the drinking glass was empty. Clean empty from the looks of it, which she took as a sign that she arrived just in time. She looked at the coffee table before them, a bottle of pills sat on top. She'd be lying if she said the thought hadn't occurred to her before now, but she just hadn't had the heart to even bring it up. "I'm not losing you to these, am I?" she asked, picking up the tiny bottle of painkillers.

Castle opened his eyes and looked at the object in her fingers that looked so delicate that they couldn't possibly be able to take down men twice her size… and yet… they could. She looked at the prescription information on the bottle, turned it over sideways to better read it. "No," he said slowly.

"Castle, you were supposed to stop taking these a week ago," she growled. "How did you get this refilled? No, wait, don't tell me. You know a guy. Damnit, Castle." Caught up in her momentary rage, she threw the bottle towards the kitchen. It pinged off the fridge and landed somewhere on the floor. Castle nearly started for them, but the look in her eyes arrested him. He clenched his jaw tightly. "No. You don't need them. They aren't going to make you better, Castle. Now come on." She grabbed his arm and pulled.

Beckett was up before the sun even considered rising. She showered, rummaged through her spare clothes left behind from the last visit to the Hamptons. Jeans and a teal shirt. Fixing her father's watch onto her wrist, she looked at Castle still sleeping. She smiled because she loved this man incredibly so, and then she felt a pang for the very same reason. She had seen the bottles on the table, thankfully unopened for the most part when she had arrived in the Hampton's last night. It didn't take a genius to figure out what would have happened, or where Castle might've woken up in the morning.

She left the bedroom, descended the stairs. She gathered up the bottles and returned them to the cellar, sealing away the temptation. There was another temptation, though, one that landed somewhere in the kitchen last night, and she went off in search for it, but fifteen minutes later and she turned up empty. She looked around wildly for the little bottle; there were only so many places it could have rolled to. Grinding her teeth together, she came to the only logical conclusion, and her eyes glanced towards the stairs where he was sleeping.

Growling to herself, she began to make breakfast.

The sunrise that morning was breathtaking, giving the clouds in the sky a perfect red-orange glow about them. Beckett was in the middle of making breakfast when Castle came down the stairs, yawning, dressed in jeans and a button down, tucked in perfectly. Maroon. She always loved that color on him, too, but blue was by far the best. It brought out his eyes. She looked up at him, eggs forgotten in the pan. "Good morning," she greeted, a warm smile on her face, despite knowing what she knew. She'd catch him eventually. He'd slip up. They always do, but this was a slippery slope. She couldn't just accuse him of taking the bottle.

Castle gave her smile back, pressed a kiss to her forehead. Eyes fluttering closed, she lost herself in the feel of it. Even if this was all he would give her right now, it was enough to give her gooseflesh all over, tingles racing up and down her spine.

She was expecting him to pull away. He always pulled away from her after the one-second kiss, but he stayed close this time, breathing and exhaling into her hair. She could smell his aftershave. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see him looking at her. Her heart stopped a beat when she felt, more than saw, him leaning in towards her. She inhaled sharply, and eggs be damned. It was gentle, a touch of his mouth against hers, ghosting across her lips like a feather. It was everything, and it wasn't enough at the same time.

Oh, God, screw the bottle.

She was crawling out of her skin with need and he'd not even touched her. As much as she wanted to surge forward and take what she needed, she was frozen. She could do this for him, be still, let him come around at his own pace. It wasn't fair of her to rush him after everything he'd been through. It wasn't fair that he'd been so patient with her while she was recuperating back then, either.

Beckett gave a breathy little moan, one that would have been embarrassing if it hadn't been for the emotional distance between them over the last few weeks.

He kissed her. A real kiss and her hand abandoned the handle of the pan and came to graze along his jaw. He shaved, and while part of her loved the stubble he sported in the mornings (it turned her on terribly so), this was a step in the right direction. It was a step towards Castle normalcy, and she wanted to get back to it more than anything. Before long, he was pulling back, chest heaving. Beckett's mouth chased his until she was on her toes, and he was just out of reach. Slowly, her eyes opened and she fell back down firmly on the flats of her feet. She looked up at him, breathing heavily. "What was that for?" she asked, and it immediately sounded stupid to her.

Her tongue slid along her lips, gathering up whatever remnants were left from him, brought her bottom lip between her teeth. "You are extraordinary," he answered as though it explained everything, but it didn't. Not for Beckett, anyway. She took the compliment for what it was, blushed because he had that power over her. "You didn't have to come up here, but you did, and… thank you."

"Did you doubt I would?"

He looked down into her hazel eyes, his left hand coming to her jaw and running along it lovingly before it fell back to his side. "I thought… maybe, yeah. I know… I know you've been frustrated with me. I didn't want you here." The admission is like a punch in the gut and she tenses so visibly that Castle can't not notice. "I'm glad you did, though. I like having you in my space, Kate," he's quick to amend. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Well, that's good, Castle. I like being in your space." She looked at him, and she saw a different man than the one she had pulled towards the bedroom last night. "You slept the whole night?"

"No," he admits, but he smiles anyway. "Most of it, though." She knows. She might've slept through it, but now she knows.

Silence settles over them, and each are content to simply stare at each other, appreciating one another in their own ways, even though her brain is working in overdrive. She could see him so clearly creeping down the stairs, searching for the bottle until his thick fingers wrap around it in triumph... "Kate?" Castle said after a moment.

"Hmm?" Her ears practically perk up, eager for whatever words he might throw her way, because he really knew how to move her with his words. She waited patiently with rapt attention. She was practically begging for something from him. They were so close to stepping back on their path of togetherness, she could smell it, she could feel it. Hell, she could still taste it by way of his minty toothpaste.

It's a damn slippery slope, because as much as she hates this right now, she loves this, and her head and heart are at war with one another.

"The eggs are burning," is all he said.

Beckett was confused for a moment, brow knit together, but the smell assaulted her as she registered his words and looked down at the pan. "Oh, shit!" she hissed, grasping the handle and moving the pan off the burner. She turned the stove off and set the pan down, sighing heavily. "Well... that happened," she muttered aloud and glanced towards Castle… but he wasn't there anymore. She found him not too far off, standing at the sliding doors, looking out at the beautiful reddened sky.

She came up behind him, arms snaking around his waist, and splayed across his stomach. While he wasn't the most fit person in the world, he was still toned, broad and incredibly sexy. She rested her cheek on his shoulder blade, smiled when his left hand came up to rest on top of hers. He needs to know I'm here, she thought to herself.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered quickly, breakfast forgotten. She was almost taken aback at Castle wanting to do something, even if it was only to take a walk outside. "Let me just…" She was gone before she even finished her sentence, but returned only a moment later with a sweater and her shoes. She could feel his eyes roaming her jean-clad backside as she pulled on the shoes, and she was thankful for having spare clothes there in the Hamptons.

Outside, there was a comfortable breeze that made her sweater a perfect idea. She walked alongside Castle, occasionally bumping into him on the uneven terrain. The water lapped at the shore. There was a sense of peace out here. She had to give Castle some credit. If there were ever a place to find oneself, or escape, or come to terms with something: this was it. The sand was soft under them, the sun had risen to start warming the day. This morning was bliss.

Before either of them knew it, they were an hour away from the house, and still going, but it wasn't lost on either of them that not a word had been exchanged, either too afraid to burst whatever bubble they had woken up in, or too afraid to point out it had already burst. Halfway through the walk along the beach, Beckett had slipped her hand into his, though, lacing their fingers together. Their hands were made for each other, they knew.

They stopped walking, eventually. Time to head back. He looked out over the water for a minute, inhaled deeply, exhaled long and slow. Beckett squeezed his hand supportively. Castle looked at her, stepped closer to her, crowding her. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the uncertainty. All of it weighed him down. He pressed his forehead to hers and her hands curled around his neck. "Tell me it'll be okay," he asked softly, and Beckett had to strain to hear, "and I'll believe you."

Her heart broke for him. Her hands added reassuring pressure on the back of his neck. "No matter what happens, Rick," she promised, "it'll be okay."

He nodded, and she kissed him, slow and languid. Parting, their noses kissed next. "Let's go home, Castle."

An hour later, they were in her crown vic, headed back towards the city, leaving behind a full bottle of pills in a trashcan that Beckett had neglected to check.

A/N: Two updates in one day? Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? To make up for not updating sooner, but it also means this chapter may be lame. XOXO.