HAHAHAH I AM UP TO DATE MWAH HA HA. Not counting the one for this week. But it's only Monday, so it counts. Bam, said the lady.
I love the way you come home
She's late home. He's not worried, she phoned maybe two hours earlier saying that they'd cracked a case and she needed to go make an arrest. And usually he'll go to sleep, safe in the knowledge that she'll be there when he wakes up.
This time, oddly, he doesn't sleep. He tries to sleep but he can't seem to turn his mind off. Eventually he hears the crunch of tyres on the driveway, the killing of the engine and the quiet click of a door being closed. The door opens downstairs, and he really should remember to get it oiled. It's the one thing that he needs to do before the house is finished and done and ready. But for the time being it's a very good way of letting him know when Kate's home.
She knows the house like the back of her hand already, unlike him, and she can move around the house without turning the lights on and without walking into things. And then there's the sound of the sink, followed by the clink of the glass in the cupboard. He could pretend he's asleep, maybe see the bedtime habits that she has when she doesn't think he can see. Mm. Sounds tempting. And then surprise her when she gets into bed, cold and fresh and sleepy. And sleepy Kate likes to snuggle.
And as usual, she walks up the stairs, carefully minding the creaking step, walking along the hall towards the bedroom. He can tell she's stripping off as she goes, knows that come the morning he'll find a long line of clothes leading from the door to the top of the stairs. Her shoes will be at the bottom of the stairs in a haphazard pile that he will trip over in the morning.
There's silence for a moment and he thinks he might have drifted off, just for a moment, because the next thing he knows is she's crawling in next to him. She smells like mint and night time, and she's quiet, trying not to wake up. There's the tentative brush of fingers across his forehead, into his hairline. It's light and it tickles and he wrinkles his nose. Snuffs a bit. Authenticity. He's asleep.
And then she kisses him, soft and light, right on the corner of his eye.
"Goodnight, Castle."