Later that day Beckett received a very authoritarian call from Lanie that dictated her to come down to the morgue. The conversation that ensued – if one could call it a conversation, because Lanie did all the talking – consisted of a whole lot of inventive swear words and precious pieces of advice like 'stop making out in public'. Lanie went on and on about Kate's reputation, her credibility as a cop and the stupidity of Castle – it all sounded an awful lot like Kate's monologue earlier that day.
Although Lanie had always been the one to push Kate towards Castle, she protected her like family, because that was what Kate was to her – family. And although her excitement over the pictures in the paper had inspired one hell of a make-out session with Esposito this morning, the joy of writer boy and Kate finally hitting it off had quickly made room for the realization that the article really wasn't such a wonderful thing after all. It had made Lanie a reasonably grumpier person when it had dawned on her what kind of effects this article would have on her friend's life.
"Won Esposito a nice chunk of money, though" she added at the end, a smug grin now plastered to her face. "He's takin' me to that new fancy place on Broadway tonight, thank you very much." And with that and a hearty hug she dismissed her friend and ordered for Castle to come down to the halls of death.
Castle obeyed Lanie's wishes, but was slightly smarter than Kate because he came with presents. When he entered the autopsy room, he held a large box of tasty Swiss chocolate in his outstretched arms. It was a peace offering, really. A please-don't-kill-me-I'm-awfully-sorry kind of gesture that made the medical examiner smile. She did like him after all. Besides, how could a girl resist the world's best chocolate from a handsome man at her mercy?
She intimidated him, her petite stature no obstacle at all, but only for the good of 10 minutes. Then her angry and tense features grew soft and her voice got calmer and friendlier. She even thanked him at last, "for makin' ma gurl laugh and loosen up a lil".
"You know you make her happy, right?" she said in a more serious tone and he grimaced.
"Does she know that, too?" he asked and Lanie smiled.
"She forgets sometimes, I know."
With a wave of her hand and a wink of her large feline eyes she bid him goodbye. "Go and get her, tiger" she said and he chuckled on his way out. Get her he would indeed.
Castle was actually glad for once that they didn't go out into the field but instead stayed at the precinct that day, burying themselves in missing persons data and, after IDing the victim as 28-year-old James Eagle, in endless phone calls. Normally he didn't like the 'boring' police work, but although he'd never admit it he felt sore and tired after last night's sleep-depriving and exhausting coupling. After all the acrobatics that Kate had done he was surprised that she was even able to walk the distance from her desk to the murder board.
He watched her as she worked efficiently, carefully and centered. He had memorized her every move throughout the last years, he knew how she held her coffee and how she brushed her hair out of her face when rebellious strands broke free from her brown bun, but it was an entirely different thing now that he knew what it felt like to run his fingers through that hair. He found himself mesmerized and captivated by the elegance of her hands, the curve of her neck, the way the corner of her mouth tilted up. It was hard not to touch her, to keep his hands to himself in the busily buzzing bullpen around them.
Everybody in here knew about the pictures, everybody could see that Castle was still alive, still here at Beckett's side, which meant that things between them were…well what exactly were they anyway?
At first there had been spectators, detectives of other departments that randomly appeared in the hallways to sneak a peek at the two of them, curious officers that wanted to know if he really was still breathing soundly beside her. If they had bet on it, they would have guessed that she'd killed him by now, or at least send him flying out the window.
After an hour of magically materializing officers in places they didn't belong, Beckett had exploded. A couple of harsh words from her and the dangerous glint in her eyes were enough to have the hardened cops crumble and sheepishly turn away. They hadn't been bothered since then.
At the end of the day Castle got squirrely, pacing the bullpen in front of the murder board without looking at or even caring about the information that was written on it. He hadn't eaten anything since the Chinese take-out cartons they'd grabbed at noon, so he was starving and tired and his attention slipped away from under his weary hands.
"Beckett" he said at last but she didn't look up from her papers. "Would you come with me for a second?" he tried again and this time she looked up and arched an eyebrow. "Where to?" she asked and he motioned towards the observation room.
She understood his choice – the observation room was really the only private place in the precinct where they could be sure that they weren't being overheard or spied on. "I have to work, Castle" she said and willfully held his gaze. "If you're bored, go home. No one's forcing you to stay here." But something in his eyes begged to differ, something in the lines of his face told a story of hope and need and held a sense of importance.
"Please" he said and she gave in.
"One minute!" she established and got up.
When they were inside the small, dark room he silently closed the door behind them.
"What was so important that you had to drag me away from my work?" she asked but he didn't give a reply. Instead he placed his warm lips on hers and his hands on her shoulders. When she only stiffened at his touch and didn't respond, he drew away.
"Was that the only reason you brought me here?" she asked sourly and already turned away. He got hold of her arm and pulled her back to him. "Yes, it was. But wait!" he called when she moved once more and tried to wind her arm out of his grip.
"I want to see you again" he said softly. She looked up into his serious blue orbs.
"You're seeing me right now" she returned. He sighed.
"No, I mean…I want to be with you, alone, in private" he struggled and slid his fingers through his hair. The gesture left his dark waves tousled and Beckett fought hard to keep from reaching out. "Will you come to my place tonight?" he asked and a certain thrill of anticipation shone through in his voice. His eyes however also conveyed fear. Yes, she was almost sure of it. It was fear she saw in them, fear because he cared, because he wanted her, really wanted her, and that knowledge made her the tiniest bit weak in the knees.
"I have to work tonight. We haven't got anything yet. And I haven't slept in a pretty long time." Although the fear stayed in his eyes, his face displayed a small smile.
"So you're saying I wore you out?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Believe whatever you want, but I can't come to your place tonight. Besides, what about Alexis and Martha? I can't just barge in on them like that. I'm sure they have other plans for tonight." His eyes flickered with disappointment.
"And I'm sure they've seen the pictures and I don't think I can handle their morose disapproval just yet, Lanie was worse enough already" Beckett added and forced him with her eyes to understand her reasoning, to stop looking so damn disappointed. He simply trailed his hands down her arms until he reached her hands. He laced his fingers through hers and she let it happen.
"Will you come tomorrow?" he asked tentatively and it was so unusual for him to be so unsure of himself that she actually smiled. She leaned a little closer into his warmth and tried to forget about the fact that they were at a complete dead end in their current case and tried to just focus on them for a minute.
"Maybe I will. Let me think about it" she offered and it was more than enough for him. "Okay" he murmured before his lips connected with hers once more. This time she responded, pulling him closer with her hands around his neck, welcoming him into her mouth so that their tongues could lazily brush against each other. His hands caressed her lower back as languid waves of warm pleasure ran through his body from tip to toe. It was a slow and drawn out kiss that filled every inch of them before they parted.
"Now let me go back in there and do my work, okay?" she whispered, not wanting to disturb the comfortable silence that surrounded them. "And no funny business" she added and drew her hands away from his neck.
He grinned impishly. "But detective, have I ever done any funny business?"
She didn't dignify that question with an answer and simply turned and left the room.
A/N: This chapter is not what I had planned it to be about a week ago, but I like it anyway. I wanted them to kiss before Christmas. I just didn't couldn't leave you hanging for so long, because I'm sure that it'll be some days until I can update. And I'm just really living on fluff right now, so there you go.
I will also have you know that Swiss chocolate is the best in the entire world. There is this century-old fight in Europe over whether Belgian or Swiss chocolate is best, and after several tasting examinations I vote for Switzerland. I feel sorry for all Americans. You may not want to hear this, but your chocolate basically tastes like a monkey peed in battery acid. ;D (Hershey kisses are an exception, though) Don't be too sad, you have peanut butter instead.
In this spirit, I wish you all a delicious, snowy, heart-warming and relaxing Holiday! Even if you don't celebrate – enjoy your days off! :)
Merry Christmas! Joyeux Noel! Feliz Navidad! Frohe Weihnacht! Buon Natale!