A/N: Yes, I'm a sap, sometimes I need to be. Also, this song...GAH!


"We're kissing like Eskimos, it's a little bit much, I know. I do."


He's pretty certain he's supposed to speak. Words are supposed to be coming out of his mouth right about now - not just gulping fish sounds - and people are waiting to hear them.

She's waiting on him, an anxious flare of color darting across her eyes when he opens his mouth and nothing comes out.

He's got nothing.

Eyes are on him, apart from hers, maybe, really, yeah a lot of eyes. Possibly an entire rooms worth of people have him locked in their sights, waiting with baited breath for whatever will come tumbling out of his mouth.

But there is nothing. Nothing.

His words have left him.

Nothing exists in this time and space, except for her.

Kate.

He can't take his eyes off her, can't find the words, can't move his tongue to speak them or even remember his own damn name. He supposed to be suave and sophisticated, supposed to sweep her off her feet and she's stolen everything.

She knows it too. He can see it in her eyes when they dart sideways, relief at first for whatever she finds when he looks at her, then mischief and finally, maybe, always , a little anger. She's mad that he's leaving her hanging like this, but she can't just walk up to him dressed like that and expect him to form sentences.

It's like he's stumbled into a black and white movie and the only spark of color is her. She needs to give his eyes time to adjust, his brain time to catch up with his pulse and his heart needs to just...beat again.

White and gold, flushed pink in her cheeks and across her chest, her skin calling to him so loudly his fingers clench and he presses his lips down together, hard.

They're so close, close enough he could kiss her, touch and hold and reach out and pull her in, but everyone's waiting for him to speak her included.

Her eyes seem to pulsate with meaning, the pupils darting from him to the man next to her, back again, with a quick shake of her head when he doesn't get it.

Alright, what? He's dense today, denser than normal but she's just - and he can't -

"Man asked you a question, Castle."

She speaks slowly, smiles at him even slower, the corners of her lips unfurling like petals from some exotic flower he could never name and just like that, color floods in. It emanates out from her and reignites the room, bringing light and air, awareness following on their heels and he hears the tinkle of laughter from those behind them.

Oh, right, there are other people here.

"He did?" Castle makes himself swallow past the rush of emotion and tears his eyes away from her, has to physically force himself to quit staring at her and turn away.

Maybe he should close his eyes for the next part, just to get the words out without getting lost, but he keeps tight hold of her hand, never letting that go again and he can't bring himself to do it. He can't close his eyes, can't miss a second of it.

"God, you're such child." She groans quietly, the smile so bright through her words he can hear it, feel, revel in it without having to turn again, without having to start the whole process over, ripping his eyes from her so reluctantly it hurts because she just looks so -

"Pay attention."

"I was." His hisses, risking a quick glance back at her and...seriously? Wow!

"Not to me."

She's crazy, must be out of her mind. "Never gonna happen." His eyes follow the dip of her dress at the front and she groans, digging her elbow into his side, proud of herself when he yelps.

"As I was saying-"

Castle lifts his eyes, nods sedately to the man in front of him, and squeezes her fingers.

"Do you take this woman-"

"I do."

He interrupts and her head drops forwards like she knew it was coming, shoulders shaking, and an entire sweep of curled hair chasing her laughter as it tumbles from her lips.

She shakes her head, turns, and looks up at him with the biggest brown eyes he has ever seen, no poetry needed to describe them, dark and liquid with love, overflowing with it. Happiness right there, shining from her like a beacon guiding him home, and that smile. The one he loves more than he understands.

Just like her.

The woman he loves more than he understands.

More than one heart should be capable of loving another person. More than he can comprehend when she catches his eye and flashes her pupils at him in warning.

He's doing it again. Getting lost in her.

Screw it, he's allowed today of all days. Staring at her creepily is his - or will be his - legal right. He's going to enjoy it.

He turns towards her slowly, loving the promise that lingers there, a little bit wild in the wet sparkle of her eyes, a little untamed and something he definitely wants to get at later, but right now he just needs her closer.

His fingers find ivory lace, his thumbs sweep pearls and the heated stretch of her bare back. She didn't even attempt to play fair with the dress, did she? The tiniest buttons, a corseted weave at her waist, lifting her breasts, leaving her back, neck and shoulders completely bare under the fall of her hair.

Not fair at all.

The smallest tug brings her in close, one hand lifting to cup his neck and the other thudding into his chest bringing the scent of flowers straight from the tips of her curled fingers.

His nose sweeps her cheek as he nuzzles in closer, foreheads pressing so close together he can hear the cascade of breath leave her lips and touching his own.

Their noses brush, Eskimo kisses until the real one. The one that seals the deal.

He smirks when her eyes open wide like she can read his mind, challenge and fire and wait til I get you alone all simmering away, like champagne bubbles popping between them.

"Still not paying attention." She grumbles, rebellious and teasing, every inch of her pressing into him and he shifts his weight just so, just enough to make her gasp and understand he is paying attention. To the important things.

Like the feel of her in his arms. Like her fingers kneading and tangling in his hair. Like the lovely view he has down the front of her dress and the growl at the back of her throat that reminds him he should lift his eyes from her cleavage, especially with all these people (and her Dad) watching them.

And just like that his words come flooding back.

"Anyway she'll have me." He whispers, his voice loud enough for the entire world to hear, but the words spoken just to her. For her. For later and writhing naked in a twist of white sheets

Like the promise of forever.

And always and until tomorrow and goodnight and a million cups of coffee that will fill the gaps in between. Like sharing showers to save time, and doing it again just to waste it. Like waking up with his hand coiled protectively over her stomach and promises of a whole other kind barely sparking to life but changing absolutely everything.

"I will."

Like the simplest of things.

The way their noses brush and their foreheads touch. Like the way her eyes flutter closed against his skin and somehow he loves her just a little bit more.

"I do."