For my music guru, I gave her three words to describe the story and she found me the perfect song! HUG the genius!
"Lovin' you's a dirty job, and I'm the man to do it!"
He hated cleaning. Hated it. Loathed it in fact, especially when it was enforced cleaning. Enforced and monitored and regimented.
His elbow was hurting and stiff from the repetitive motion and usually he liked repetitive motion - and stiffness- a good back and forth never hurt anyone - worked wonders in fact - but this one was not at all satisfying.
He let out a rumble of disgust as he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn streak on the wood, when it didn't budge he started muttering under his breath. He cursed at the stain, "Out damn spot," and rubbed harder, then harder still, leaning over the table for maximum leverage.
Bad position, bad, bad, bad because his mind was instantly filled with images of the scenario that got him into this mess in the first place.
But there had been extenuating - and naughty - circumstances. He should be allowed a reprieve just this one time.
Well, three times.
His fingers slipped on the wood and his hand careened across the surface. "Ow," he groaned clutching it to his chest, "Wood burn, ow ow, wood burn ow." Thinking it might have splintered Castle inspected it, checking closely - nope just red - and sucked the digit into his mouth to soothe it.
He grimaced instantly and yanked it back out - all he could taste was cleaning spray.
"Ahem."
Ugh, she was back to crack the whip. He really needed to learn not to be so careless.
She tapped her foot when he groaned, clearly he would be getting no sympathy, so he sighed and kept on scrubbing. The mark would not move. He rubbed harder and harder and harder and "Dammit!"
"Something wrong?" Their eyes met but he didn't want to engage in a battle of wills, he would lose, this time quite gladly.
His eyes dropped fast and he went back to cleaning, "Nope, all good."
She snorted, "Good? Really?"
"Well not good, but okay?" God, she was scary sometimes.
She glared when he forgot one corner of the table and when he started shooting dirt targets with his spray bottle of germy doom, inevitably missing and spraying the floor, she had stomped past him and left the room only to return a few seconds later with the mop bucket, holding it out to him pointedly.
He felt daring with his soapy slingshot and his cowboy stance, so he prepared to face off and demand -
"Don't look at me like that," she threatened, still tapping her foot. "If you are going to do things like this..."
"It was one time." It wasn't, he was lying, lying a lot, it was at least three that he could remember, not including that one time when they had had too much to drink.
"On the table where I eat my breakfast."
He rolled his eyes and continued scrubbing, muttering under his breath. "Table I paid for, should be able to use it for what I want."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Mmmhmm." She stood and watched as he finished scrubbing, letting out a long puff of air when he stood up and his back creaked in protest.
"Done."
"I don't think so."
"What?"
"Once with this. All over." She held out the antibacterial spray bottle, "And then all over again with this." She held out the bleach.
He growled and stood up, "Alexis this is ridiculous."
"And don't dilute it." She scolded, "I want to be able to smell it."
"I'm going to pass out from inhaling noxious fumes." Castle protested, "Or develop superpowers- hey that would be pretty -" She growled, he sighed, "You are being completely unreasonable."
"AM I?" She yelled, levelling him with a stare that was equal parts her mother, his mother, Beckett and disapproving daughter all rolled into one. "If you are going to leave the door unlocked so I can walk in on you having sex with your girlfriend on the kitchen table then the least you can do is clean it."
"I did."
"And scrub it afterwards, and being as Beckett volunteered to wipe the GIANT butt print -
"Hey." He jumped upright, "Offended. My butt is not that big."
"Castle, it's pretty big." Kate called from the other side of the room, "I've been scrubbing for twenty minutes." Her arms were still working frantically over the silhouette of his ass that just would not budge from his living room window.
"That is blatant exaggeration for comedic effect." He glared and their eyes locked. Castle smiled as they shared the memory of Kate dropping to her knees and backing him up into the window, with the New York skyline bright and vivid behind them.
Yeah, no wonder his ass print was mashed to that glass. At one point she did this thing with her tongue and he'd flung his head back so hard h'e almost gone through it.
Their eyes drifted as they each got lost in memory.
He was a pretty lucky man, he thought, even if his daughter was pitching a fit at least Kate was humoring her and going along with it.
Steadfastly ignoring the both of them, Alexis covered her eyes and pointed at her father, "-you can also disinfect the kitchen counters."
He watched his daughter turn on her heel, a wave of orange flaring out behind her, like her rage had exploded out of her head and was chasing her from the room.
Catching Beckett's eye again, Castle chuckled under his breath when she turned from the window and poked her tongue out at his retreating daughter.
"Might as well throw in the couch." He hissed, flaring his eyes dangerously and letting his gaze drip down Beckett's body like hot candle wax. He set the spray bottles down quietly and began to creep towards her.
"And the piano." Beckett wiggled her fingers and heat like lightning shot through his stomach, throwing the cloth over her shoulder and holding her arms open in invitation.
"And the-"
"What was that?" His daughter yelled, pausing mid step on the stairs.
Busted!
"Nothing."
"That's what I thought." Alexis barked, letting her indignation and disgust carry her up the stairs, ignoring the heavy breathing and laughter she refused to hear coming from the living room.
