Author's Note: Posting early to try to finish this story before the holidays. Enjoy!
What the Heart Wants
Chapter 17
Kate was tired. Tired physically and worse, she was disheartened.
They had solved the case so she had been able to visit Dr. Cambeson's wife and give her the answer to why her husband had been murdered but as so often happened, it seemed as if learning the answer made things worse. Because in death, a victim's secrets came out and secrets, especially when they were the ones that led to death, were like time bombs that exploded and left devastation in their wake. Dr. Cambeson had been recruited by some high-end drug dealers, the ones who dealt in pills, to provide unnecessary (and illegal) prescriptions, both the actual pills themselves from his office supply and by writing scripts to take to pharmacies. But then he had been notified that he'd been flagged to undergo a random audit by a medical board looking into, among other things, his pill supply, and tried to get out of his side of the bargain with the dealers which had not gone well, to say the least.
Justice had been done, Dr. Cambeson's killers caught, but now his wife and his kids were left with not just their grief but also the knowledge that her husband, their father, had not been the man they thought they knew either. That he'd violated his oath as a doctor, committed crimes, and been contributing to the drug abuse problem plaguing the country.
For one of the few times in Kate's career, she'd been tempted not to tell the whole truth—to lie. She could have told Mrs. Cambeson some story about being in the wrong place, wrong time, a drug deal gone bad that had ended in the death of the innocent bystander. It was a scenario she had seen before and it would have left his secrets undiscovered, his memory untarnished with his wife and kids.
Facing Mrs. Cambeson's weary face, seeing how ravaged her expression was from the past two days of grief, Kate had wavered for a moment, hesitated. But in the end, she had told Mrs. Cambeson the whole truth. She had done what she'd been trained to do, what she had to do. One thing Captain Montgomery had told her early on had been that a homicide detective who started flinching from unpleasant truths would ultimately become a bad cop. It would start small, even well-intentioned as in this kind of circumstance, but concealing the truth once would make it easier to do so again, would make a cop become susceptible to viewing the evidence in the light in which they wanted to view it.
It was something her mom had told her too, that the truth was always best.
Which was one thing in principle but felt like another thing entirely when faced with an innocent family member's devastated expression. The expression she had caused. The betrayal even in the midst of loss and grief, the loss not just of the family member but of the image they had held of their family member.
It's hard when everything you think you know turns out to be a lie, Kate remembered saying after the case last fall of the drug mule, John Allen, when his wife had found out what her husband had done after losing his job.
Not everything, not her husband's love, Castle had pointed out. In John Allen's case, it had been true, might even have been true in this case too but the circumstances weren't the same. John Allen had been desperate to find some way to support his family and the mafia had preyed on his desperation. It was not a pretty story but John Allen had ultimately been a guilt-less victim. No matter what the motives behind his greed had been, Dr. Cambeson had still had a good job but had chosen to break the law, was not guilt-less.
Now, haunted by Mrs. Cambeson's expression—especially because from their brief interaction a couple days ago when Kate had told her about her husband's death, her impression of Mrs. Cambeson had been positive—Kate was starting to wonder, insidious whispers of doubt creeping into her mind.
She sighed as she trudged up the stairs to her apartment, thinking with some longing of having a glass of wine, or maybe even scotch, with her dinner, followed by a long soak in her tub. Yes, that was what she wanted, to get home where she could finally relax and take a warm bath and just slough off this terrible day.
And maybe, she thought with a spark of mischief momentarily lightening her mood, she would call Castle while she was still in her bath, tease him a little. That could be fun.
Well, no, it might be fun for a little while but it also reminded her that what she really wanted—but could not have—was to spend the evening with Castle. She wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted to be able to relax against his broad chest, be comforted and cosseted by his warmth and his strength and his humor.
Part of the reason she was so tired was because she hadn't slept well the last few nights, not since coming back from the Hamptons, and she couldn't convince even herself that the timing was a coincidence, that it didn't have something—everything—to do with the fact that her bed seemed too… empty, too cold, without him in it. Which was crazy since after all, she'd never actually had him in her bed yet but no matter how she tried to tell herself that, it didn't make it untrue. It was so stupid, made her feel ridiculously like a child who couldn't sleep without her favorite teddy bear or something, but there it was. Ugh, damn it. She was an independent adult, a cop, for heaven's sake. She should not be reduced to tossing and turning after sharing a bed for only one night with a man.
She had reached the floor of her apartment and stepped out into the hallway, only to tense, her hand automatically starting to reach for her gun when a large shadow at the other end of the hall detached itself from the wall, starting toward her.
Being accosted in the hall outside of her apartment was the last thing she needed—wait. Was it possible—there was something about that shadow, that form. She recognized that shape, that figure. And then it spoke and confirmed her guess. "Hey, Beckett. Surprise."
Shock blanked her mind as for a split second, she wondered if her missing him had somehow managed to conjure him up—wow, she really must be exhausted to be thinking like that. But then she decided she didn't care about the how, only the who—Castle—and the where—here, with her. Everything else could wait.
"Castle," she gasped, her suddenly energized legs propelling her forward as he strode towards her and then she was locked in his arms, held, surrounded. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his so-familiar scent, and felt some of the tension of the day dissolve.
Castle was back and her day was abruptly much better.
She felt him press a kiss to her hair. "Hey, Kate?"
"Hmm?"
"As much as I love hugging you, do you want to stay out here or are you going to let me into your apartment? Because I have a feeling that once I start kissing you, I'm not going to be able to stop and that should probably wait until we're in a less public setting."
She gave a huff of laughter, even as a surge of desire flared through her at the mention of kissing, and reluctantly released him, stepping back.
Her brain kicked back into gear and her questions returned. "How did you find out my address?" she blurted out, inanely. When she had moved, she hadn't told him her new address because at the time, she'd still been annoyed at him over the Ellie Monroe thing.
"I texted Lanie."
"You couldn't have just asked me rather than almost giving me a heart attack?"
His lips quirked. "Where's the fun in that?"
He would say that. She snorted as she unlocked her door and waved him inside, noting belatedly that he had a small suitcase with him so he must have come straight here from the Hamptons and not even stopped off at the loft first.
Once inside her apartment, she noted his gaze sweeping over the space in one comprehensive glance as she locked the door behind them and distractedly dropped her purse on the ground and set her gun aside. She normally put it away in a drawer across the room but she didn't want to bother with that now. Because once he had taken a second to survey her apartment, he turned back to her and she wasn't sure which of them made the first move or maybe they moved at the same time as she surged into him, her hands cupping his face while his arms wrapped around her waist.
And they kissed, open-mouthed and eager. She wondered fuzzily how she had survived even three days without this because this, right now, his lips on hers, their tongues tangling, felt as necessary as oxygen. His little groan of pure relief was swallowed by her mouth before he briefly left her mouth to trail his lips along her chin to her neck, licking and sucking and nipping as he went. She gasped and arched into him, lifting one leg to keep him close. And abruptly changed her mind. She'd thought she wanted his comfort first but no, sex first, definitely sex first. Or maybe, she thought vaguely, the sex was the comfort.
"Kate," he gasped against her cheek. "Bedroom?"
His mouth was now back on hers and she wasn't about to stop kissing him so instead she tugged him with her, blindly stumbling back in the direction of her bedroom. They bumped into an end table and her elbow glanced painfully off a wall as they made their way but thankfully, reached her bedroom without further incident, his hands busily undoing the buttons of her shirt.
She wasn't quite sure how but her shirt and bra were already off as she fell backwards onto her bed and just barely managed to shove the covers out of the way before he was joining her, almost falling on top of her. And then it dissolved into a blur of skin against skin, of caressing hands and eager mouths and bodies fitting together as if they'd been meant to be like this.
Afterwards, Kate tucked herself against his side, her lax body molding itself to his as if it might be possible to melt into him, her head nestling in the hollow of his shoulder. Her eyes drifted closed, lulled yet further by the steady rhythm of his breaths, the beat of his heart beneath her hand. Mm, this was what she'd missed and wanted.
After a little while, he released a puff of breath that might have been the beginnings of a laugh.
"Mm, what is it?" she mumbled.
"Just thinking, I didn't mean for this to happen."
She managed to lift her head so she could look at him. "What?"
He made a rueful face and gestured with one hand to indicate her disheveled bed, the clothes haphazardly discarded on the floor. "I wasn't planning to do this—I mean, not immediately. I thought we'd talk first, maybe eat, you know, do things in the usual order."
She couldn't help her smile. He really was adorable, his hair a mess (from her fingers), his expression reminiscent of a sheepish little boy. "Do you hear me complaining?"
"Well, no." His expression rearranged itself into a smirk. "I guess you just can't resist me, can you?"
"I think it's you who can't resist me."
He lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. "Guilty as charged."
He might have a point; she couldn't resist him. She leaned down to kiss him, softly, slowly, this time.
Only for the kiss to break off abruptly as her stomach rumbled and she flushed as he laughed, only to choke it off as she pretended to sock his shoulder.
"Ow, okay, I guess we're eating now."
She shot him a narrow-eyed look—or at least, she tried to but she suspected her expression ended up looking more indulgent than offended, as she rolled away from him and sat up.
He lingered in her bed, not even making a pretense of not watching as she stood up and moved to her closet to retrieve a short, silky robe that ended mid-thigh and put it on. It wasn't until she was mostly covered again that he heaved an exaggerated sigh and then got up in turn and it was her turn to watch as he tugged on his boxers and t-shirt.
He caught up to her as she left her bedroom, sliding his arm around her waist.
They settled easily on Chinese food and ordered, even as they bickered amicably over who would pay for the food.
"Wine?" she offered after a moment.
"Sure."
He retrieved two wine glasses and they settled on her couch with their wine. He slipped one arm around her shoulders and she settled against him, feeling his fingers playing idly with her hair.
A comfortable silence settled over them and she felt herself relax, the last vestiges of tension from the day melting away.
"Oh, did you finish your edits?" she asked after a while.
He made a small face. "No, not exactly. I'm more than half done with them but I decided to come back early because I was missing you too much. And honestly, I can work on the edits anywhere." He slanted a smirk at her. "Of course, if you insist, I could leave again, not come back until I'm done like I planned."
"I'll think about it," she pretended to consider it and didn't even try to hide her smirk when he pasted on an exaggerated pout.
He retaliated, or something, by kissing her smirk which, predictably, led to more kisses and they pleasurably occupied themselves with some gentle making-out that was only interrupted by the knock on the door that heralded the arrival of their food.
At which point he won their mock-argument over who would pay by default when he pointed out that he was the one more appropriately dressed to answer the door rather than her in her skimpy robe.
They busied themselves with the food, only exchanging occasional comments. He basely stole one of her egg rolls and she swatted his hand to no effect but then got him back by helping herself to some of his mu shu pork. He pulled a face which she returned with a quirk of her eyebrows that dared him to make an issue out of it and overall, it was just… fun. Teasing and playful as they had been before but with an added ease to their interactions and she thought that this was what she'd wanted, what she'd imagined a relationship with him could be like—relaxing with him after a long day of work.
After they were done eating and the leftovers were cleared away, they resettled on the couch, Castle sprawling at his ease and tugging her against him so she was leaning against his chest.
"Mm, that hit the spot," he mumbled. After a moment, he added with more alertness, "Hey, you have to work this weekend, right?"
"Yeah, because I took last weekend off. And since we closed our case today, it'll probably be mostly paperwork."
"Oh, you guys closed your last case, the one with the doctor? I was going to ask you about that."
So she told him about the case, about Dr. Cambeson's ultimate weakness and greed, the bad judgment that had led to his death.
Castle sighed a little. "That had to be hard on his wife, finding out that her husband wasn't the man she thought he was."
She sighed in turn, her mood sinking at the reminder. "Yeah, it wasn't easy, telling her." She hesitated and before she'd fully realized she was going to, found herself admitting, "I almost didn't. I thought about not telling her, making it sound like some wrong place, wrong time thing."
As the words fell from her lips, it occurred to her that this—admitting this kind of thing, her own doubt, the burden of her job—was something she wasn't sure she'd ever talked about before. Not really, not with anyone. She tried not to talk about the harder aspects of her job with her dad because she didn't want to worry him, still a little cautious about relying on him. It wasn't the sort of thing she could really talk over with Lanie. The boys weren't generally given to this kind of introspection, or at least Espo definitely wasn't and while Kate was aware that Ryan was more thoughtful than that, she wouldn't have felt comfortable talking about this sort of thing with either of them because she was technically their superior, the team leader. Showing vulnerability to her team wasn't something she was comfortable with.
And with Will—they had shared the law enforcement background so she and Will had often swapped stories from work but she hadn't talked to Will about this kind of thing either because she wouldn't have wanted to appear weak. She had hated the tinge of pity, that entered his tone, his demeanor, when the subject of her mom came up, the way he had so often tiptoed around potentially sensitive topics. When it came to her professional abilities, he respected her, acknowledged that she was good at her job, but whenever he was reminded of her past, her mom, his view of her had been colored with thinking of her as another victim, just like the ones they both dealt with at work.
Castle was different, as she had already realized. He didn't view her as a victim. He had seen her crying over Dick Coonan's dead body and he still saw her as extraordinary.
"But you did tell her the truth," he responded quietly.
"Yeah." She shut her eyes briefly. "It just seemed so… cruel, to disillusion her, just a couple days after I told her her husband was dead."
"You were just the messenger, Beckett, not the one to blame. You couldn't have done anything else. That's not you, not the kind of cop you are." He paused and then added in something approaching his usual tone, "Like Superman, you stand for truth, justice, and the American way."
She gave a somewhat watery laugh at that. Trust him to make such a reference and yeah, he definitely didn't see her as a victim. "I'm not a super hero, Castle."
"Maybe not," he conceded, although he sounded as if he rather doubted that. "But anyway, telling Mrs. Cambeson some lie about it being a wrong time, wrong place sort of crime wouldn't have been much better, would only make the tragedy worse, because there would have been no rhyme or reason to it. And as someone very wise once told me, having the answers, knowing why, matters and it will help, in time."
The echo of what she'd once said to him made her smile a little, warmth blossoming in her chest. "Someone very wise, huh?"
She heard his smile in his voice even though, leaning against his chest as she was, she couldn't see his face. "Yeah, she's the smartest person I've ever met."
Damn, he was going to make her melt. "I don't know, Castle, you might be biased."
"Yes, but as I always say to Alexis, I might be biased but that doesn't make it untrue."
Ridiculous, sweet man.
There was a brief silence after that, which he broke. "When you finish your shift tomorrow, come over to the loft. My mother's still away and Alexis is at Princeton so we'll have it to ourselves. I can make you dinner," he proposed.
She turned her head to brush an apologetic kiss to his chin. "I wish I could but I can't. I'm having dinner with my dad tomorrow."
"Oh, okay. Well, you can come over after dinner."
She hid a smile, her heart lifting in that way he could somehow always do. "Just for dessert?" she asked in faux innocence.
"That too," he said, sliding one hand around her hip.
"Why, Mr. Castle, are you suggesting I stay the night at your place?" she teased.
"Why, yes, Detective Beckett, I believe I am," he matched her tone.
"Scandalous."
He laughed, nuzzling a kiss to the nape of her neck, making a shiver of pleasure go through her. "I could persuade you…"
She wiggled a little as the husky tones of his voice sank into her skin, feathered along her nerves, and straightened up as if it could somehow weaken his effect on her.
"I have another idea," she suggested, biting her lip a little at the impulse but not finding any qualms at the idea. "Why don't you join me and my dad for dinner?"
It was his turn to straighten up, all thought of teasing and seduction apparently forgotten. "Kate, are you serious?"
She shifted, turning on the couch so she could face him. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't. My dad's already told me he wants to meet you."
He had and that was even before knowing that she and Castle were together. It might be—was—fast; she hadn't introduced Will to her dad until they'd been together for more than four months. But again, as with everything else, Castle was different.
His eyes went wide. "He does? Why? Because you told him about us?"
Was he nervous about meeting her dad? That was adorable. And entirely unnecessary. "I haven't told him about us, not like that, but he wants to meet you as my friend and my partner." And because he'd heard so much about Castle from her but that part, she didn't quite feel up to admitting.
"Oh. And you want me to be there when you tell your dad about us?" He made a face of almost comical apprehension.
He really was adorable. She reached out and took his hand. "It'll be fine, Castle. Unless you don't want to meet my dad yet. I know it's a big step."
"No!" he blurted out hastily. "Of course I want to meet your dad. I just… you surprised me, that's all, but I do want to meet your dad." He paused and smirked, apparently having regained some of his usual insouciance. "I bet he can tell me all sorts of stories about your childhood."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't tempt me to rescind the invitation. And remember, I'll be there so I can make sure my dad doesn't talk too much."
He pouted. "Let him tell me just a couple stories, please?"
She was not, absolutely was not, going to give in to his pleading blue eyes. "No, you don't need that kind of encouragement."
"But it's necessary character research into Nikki's background," he cajoled.
"If anything my dad tells you ends up in one of your books, I'm never letting you into my bed again," she pretended to threaten. She knew he wouldn't, trusted him.
"You're so mean, Beckett."
She leaned in to kiss the pout from his lips. "How about I try to make it up to you?" she husked against his cheek, punctuating the question with a delicate nip of his earlobe.
His breath hitched and he choked on a laugh, his hands already tugging her closer to him so she settled in his lap. "I could be persuaded…"
She trailed a string of light kisses along his chin and down his neck, pausing at random points to lick and suck and then lightly grazed his Adam's apple with her teeth as he swallowed. "How am I doing so far?"
"Huh?"
She hid a smirk in his neck. Good. If he was coherent, she would be doing something wrong. "Castle?"
"Hmm?"
"You wanna stay out here or go back to bed?"
That got his attention. "Bed," he answered definitively and suited action to the words by sliding his hands under her thighs and lifting her. She felt a thrill wriggle through her at this evidence of his strength as he carried her back into her bedroom and she proceeded to use her hands and lips and tongue until he was groaning her name helplessly.
Some time later, they drifted to sleep, still tangled together, and Kate's last thought before she succumbed was that tonight, she would sleep well. Castle was back and that was all she needed.
~To be continued…~
A/N 2: Just the epilogue to go. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers!