When Beckett gets into a taxi to go home, she discovers that Lanie has already called her cell phone several times today. She bites her lip as she ponders what to tell her friend. Lanie can be trusted to keep a secret, but Kate just isn't sure whether she's ready for anyone to know about ... whatever this is.
She waffles over it the whole way home, and still hasn't decided what to do by the time she's back in her apartment looking through yesterday's mail. All but one envelope ends up in the recycle bin.
She puts in a load of laundry, procrastinating, and finally decides to avoid Lanie just a little bit longer. Instead, she calls her dad.
"Hi, Katie."
"Hi, Dad. Hope I didn't interrupt anything." She knows that Jim likes to keep busy on the weekends.
"Nope, just puttering around in the garden. What's up?"
Kate takes a deep breath. "Um, Dad, remember those books Mom used to love? The murder mysteries?"
"Sure, you took them all at some point, didn't you?"
"Yeah, and I never really told you why."
She plunges in and tells her dad all about it. Not about the sex, of course, but she tells him about meeting Castle at the wedding all those years ago, reading the books and going to the book signing, and then about the Tisdale case, the murders staged like Castle's books. She tells her dad about Castle helping with that investigation and then pulling strings to get permission to shadow her for his next book.
"A whole book based on you? That's amazing, Katie," Jim says. "I know your mom thought very highly of him as a writer."
"Yeah, she was a big fan." She smiles a little, and tells her dad about some of Castle's more annoying traits, how frustrated she was at first with his interference and his jokes and his attitude. Jim chuckles through it all.
"It sounds like you've gotten to know him pretty well," he says at last, and she suddenly stops smiling and starts fidgeting. She knows that tone. That's her dad's I know you aren't telling me everything tone.
"I guess so," she says cautiously.
"So," Jim goes on, "you like this guy now, huh?"
"Dad."
"Oh, come on, Katie. You didn't call me up out of the blue on a Sunday just to tell me about some guy you've been 'working' with."
She slumps down on the couch, blushing, chewing on her lip.
"Um, it's complicated."
"It always is with you," he says affectionately. "So, am I going to meet this guy?" She blushes some more, and squirms.
"I don't ... I don't think we're there yet, Dad." I don't know if we'll ever be, she thinks.
"Okay, well, you'll tell me when you're ready."
Jim allows her to change the subject, and they chat for a while about nothing much. She feels better when she hangs up, as she always does these days after talking to her dad.
She straightens up the place a bit, groaning softly at the soreness in her muscles. She could blame the chase last night, running after the suspect, but of course the real reason she's so stiff and achy is Castle. Her body flushes pleasurably at the memories of the things they did today ... the things she is pretty sure they're going to do again tonight. Oh god, she wants to do it all again and more.
She changes into workout clothes and does some light yoga in the living room, stretching out her muscles. She has a feeling she's going to appreciate it later. And the yoga enables her to go into a meditative state, shutting out her busy thoughts for a little while.
She's in the kitchen re-hydrating, feeling all the thoughts start to crowd back in, when Lanie calls again.
"Hey, Lanie."
"Kate! Girl, I called you a dozen times."
"Nah, just four," she says with a little smile.
"Okay," she can almost see Lanie's eyes narrowing at her, "where were you? Tell me you were with him."
"I was with him," she says obediently, plopping down on the couch again. There's a brief, surprised silence.
"Really?"
"Yeah," she grins, enjoying Lanie's reaction, "really."
"Well, don't leave me in suspense! Details, woman."
"Uh, well, we went to the charity event and caught our suspect," she offers, still grinning, and then laughing out loud when she hears Lanie's exasperated huff.
"Kate Beckett," her friend says warningly.
"Okay, but come on, Lanie, I'm not giving you a blow-by-blow," she declares, still smiling.
"Mm-hmm, but it was good, right?"
"Yeah," she says softly. "It was good. I just ... I'm not sure what happens next."
"Well, you know, no one ever is, honey."
"I guess." She sighs. "Listen, Lanie, can you not ... I mean, the guys at work..."
"Oh, don't worry about me, girlfriend, my lips are sealed. Your business is your business." A pause, and a tsking sound. "But I'mma need some more dirt, after you get over your nerves."
A surprised laugh bursts out of Kate. "Um, okay? I don't know when that'll be, though." She's pretty much always a bundle of nerves where Castle is concerned.
"I can wait." She can hear Lanie's smile. "I got a feeling this thing is gonna be going on for a while."
After they hang up, Beckett finishes the housework and tackles some papers on her desk, paying bills, filing receipts, and so forth. It's all busywork to keep her brain occupied, but it doesn't work.
She slept with Castle. She had sex with Castle. Again. And he's going to come over, and she knows what she wants to do, and she knows he'll want it too, but all of her doubts and insecurities and fears are crashing down around her all over again.
He'll want to talk, first, and they should. But she doesn't know what to say.
Still trying to pretend it's just about sex? she thinks. Dr. Nelson wouldn't phrase it quite so bitingly, but she would say something tactful that amounted to the same thing.
What else would it be? she imagines herself replying, defensively, but Dr. Nelson wouldn't take that crap from her, of course.
Don't dodge the question, Kate, she would say sternly. Say what you feel.
Suddenly Beckett doesn't want to play this mental game any more. It's getting perilously close to forcing her to admit things she just can't confront yet.
Start with what she doesn't want, then. She knows that she doesn't want Castle to stop shadowing her. She's dying to read the book that he's writing based on her, and, if she's honest with herself, she has to admit that she likes solving cases with him. For the first time since becoming a cop, she sees the appeal of working with a partner. He challenges her mind, and he makes it fun, and he can be serious when it counts.
She doesn't want to stop having sex with him, either. Of that she's very sure. Just thinking about it makes her whole body tingle with anticipation, and even though they've had more sex today than she has had for ages, she's already aching for more.
But, continuing down the list of things she doesn't want, she can't exactly picture herself marching into the precinct tomorrow morning and announcing to Captain Montgomery and her fellow detectives that she and Castle are now, what, an item? In fact, the mere thought makes her chest constrict with the old, familiar fears that have kept her away from him for so long.
On the other hand, they can't go on forever, solving cases together and having sex and keeping it a secret. Can they?
So the list of things she doesn't want is getting her no closer to any useful answers.
Turning all of these questions over and over in her mind without any success, she suddenly notices that it's almost 8:00. She goes into the bedroom and takes off her workout clothes. Catching a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror, she notices more reminders of the morning: red marks on her breasts and neck, finger-shaped bruises on her legs and hips. Her gaze flickers up to her face and she's a little surprised to see herself smiling, a secretive Mona Lisa sort of smile.
She opens the closet. Nervousness flutters in her belly as she stands there naked, looking at the dress. She knows perfectly well what will happen if she puts it on.
We're going to have to talk, he said, and she knows he's right. They need to talk, even if she doesn't want to.
Well, there's no reason they can't do both. Talk, and ... other things.
She opens her lingerie drawer and reaches to the back, behind the everyday stuff.
A little while later, the doorbell rings. She takes a deep breath. She's still a little wobbly with nerves, but she's also excited. Oh god, she really is like a teenager all over again.
She opens the door. "Hey, Castle."
He stands there holding a large paper bag and a bottle of wine, and for the second time in two days the green dress makes his jaw drop. She feels the corner of her mouth lifting.
"Cat got your tongue?" she asks lightly. Oh god, his tongue. Bad choice of words. She bites the inside of her cheek, takes the wine from him with one hand, and uses the other to tug him over the threshold so she can close the door.
He doesn't shove her up against the wall and rip the dress off and slam into her with a single thrust, but she can see in his eyes that he wants to. Instead, he clears his throat and says, "I hope you like Thai."
"Ooh, I love Thai," she says, going over to the kitchen to get wine glasses. "You can put it on the table." She's already set the small table with two places.
Castle looks around as he makes his way to the table. "Nice place." If he notices his books lined up on the shelf, surrounded by a modest collection of other mysteries, he doesn't comment on it.
"Thanks." She brings the wine and glasses to the table. As she sets them down, she feels his hot gaze on her. He's restraining himself again and she knows that she should too, so she doesn't touch him, but meets his eyes and lets him see that she feels the same way.
They sit opposite each other, still exchanging heated looks, and he opens the wine while she opens the bag of food. Passing the boxes back and forth occupies them and takes the dangerous edge off the atmosphere - at least for the time being - and they eat for a few moments in comfortable silence.
"How was your afternoon?" Castle asks eventually, carefully. She smiles a little.
"Quiet. Just housework and stuff. Talked to my dad." She should probably tell him that Lanie knows, but that can wait. "What about you?"
"Oh, um, well, Alexis got home just a few minutes after you left," at which they exchange a mutually embarrassed look, "so we played some laser tag, ate some ice cream, talked about boys."
"Sounds nice," Kate comments with a smile. The thought of Castle talking boys and hair and clothes with his teenage daughter is so endearing. But wait - "Ice cream? So you've already had your dessert, Castle?"
He looks straight at her with that potent, heated expression of his. "Oh, Kate. You know I haven't."
She shivers, already throbbing and growing damper by the second. She reaches blindly for her wine glass and takes a slow sip.
Castle carefully reins himself in again, and says, "But, uh, we should talk."
"Yeah..." She applies herself to the food again, avoiding his eyes.
"Beckett? Do you want me to stop shadowing you?"
She looks up at that, surprised. "What? But ... your book."
He nods, lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I could probably finish it at this point. Of course, I already have enough storyline ideas for at least two or three more books, but ... I don't have to write them." He looks a little uncertain. "I mean, if you didn't ... want me around."
She sits back in her chair. "And, uh, what if I did? Want you around?"
His face brightens. "Well, then I guess I would ... stick around."
Beckett bites her lip, looking at him. She sees his eyes darken again, and when he speaks, he's back to that low rough voice that she can't help responding to. Goosebumps start to form along her skin.
"You're kind of overdressed for an evening at home with takeout, Beckett."
"Yeah," she agrees with a deliberately casual shrug, "well, what are you gonna do about it, Castle?"
His breathing speeds up and she can see that he's almost reached the edge of his control. She's not far from it herself either.
"Don't tease," he says, a little strangled. "We're supposed to be talking."
"Can we talk after?" she asks, a little desperately. She can't think, can't make her brain focus on anything except the nearness of Castle and the way his shoulders fill his t-shirt and the heat of his tongue and the way he feels inside her.
"After we eat?" he says, a little smile playing around the corners of his mouth, and she groans.
"Now who's teasing?" and she gets up, rounds the table, practically falls into his lap. Their mouths are fused immediately and they both groan. Kate wriggles in closer and feels the weight of him against her hip. His arm is around her back, his other hand heavy on her knee, hot with promise. Her tongue finds his and they slide slickly against each other. She digs her fingers into his hair and he grunts low in his chest.
"What you do to me," he gasps against her lips, and she shudders as his thumb starts circling on the tender skin inside her knee.
"Rick," she sighs, and the sound of his name snaps the last thread of his control. He stands her up and rises himself, his lips never leaving hers, tugging her tight against his body as soon as they're both on their feet.
"Which way?" he pants.