Author's Note: The last of the three chapters revolving around "Vampire Weekend." And without further ado, Beckett's Halloween family dinner with Castle, Martha, and Alexis, which I think people have been looking forward to.
Then Came Love
Chapter 28
That evening, Kate hesitated as she stepped off the elevator of Castle's building, trying to quell the flutter of nerves she felt. It was silly, really, even if it would be her first time talking to Martha since finding out about the baby. Martha had never been anything but warm and friendly to her and she had no reason to think the news about the baby had changed that. And after all, Martha was a single mom herself. All true, but still.
Her eyes found the door to the loft, easily identifiable as the most-decorated door in the building, she was willing to guess. Her lips quirked. Castle might not be hosting a Halloween party but clearly he hadn't let that keep him from decorating. The door frame was festooned with fake cobwebs, a paper skeleton had been affixed to the door, and a carved jack-o-lantern was sitting on the floor just by the door beside a stool on which was a cauldron filled with Halloween candy and a sign designating the candy for trick-or-treaters. Which, Kate guessed, was a concession he'd made this year to her coming over for dinner so he wouldn't be constantly needing to answer the door.
She shifted her weight and checked that the little green frog-puppet fastened to the inside of her coat was securely hidden, suppressing a smirk. Served him right for the trick he'd played on her earlier. Satisfied she looked entirely normal on the outside, she knocked on the door.
Castle opened the door almost immediately, dressed as–why wasn't she surprised–Edgar Allen Poe, in a long, flowing old-fashioned coat with a false mustache and his hair heavily coated with gel and styled differently and, the giveaway, a raven perched on his shoulder. "Beckett, you're right on time. Oh, and you didn't change." He affected a pout. "You couldn't even try to put on something a little Halloween-y?"
"Hey, Castle. You did say costumes are optional and actually, I did stop off at home to change. I just put my coat back on over it," she told him blandly.
"Oh. Well, come in, come in. Let me take your coat."
She kept her expression carefully blank and waited until he had closed the door and was standing in front of her again, holding out a hand expectantly for her coat before making a show of untying the belt.
Castle's eyes had dipped down to her stomach and for once, she was glad of it as she undid her coat the rest of the way.
The frog sprang out right on cue and Castle jumped, emitting a startled yelp. Martha's laugh rang out and Kate smirked at his wide-eyed expression. "Now we're even, Castle. Did you really think I wouldn't get back at you for the trick you pulled earlier?"
"What did he do?" Martha inquired, edging around Castle. Kate blinked a little at the sight of Martha, dressed as Cruella DeVil in a bright red dress with a hat approximately a half-mile wide on her head and carrying a small stuffed dalmatian.
"Dad, is everything okay?" Alexis appeared on the stairs, dressed as… herself? With the way Castle and his mother had gone all out for costumes, the sight of the teenage girl looking like her normal self in jeans and a sweatshirt seemed almost jarring.
Alexis's eyes found Kate–and the frog puppet–and a small smile emerged. "Oh, hi, Kate. I didn't know you'd arrived. Is that what made Dad scream?"
"I did not scream," Castle interjected with exaggerated dignity. "I was, perhaps, a little startled but that's not the same thing."
Alexis came the rest of the way down the stairs. "No, I think you screamed."
Kate grinned at Alexis as she detached the fastenings for the frog from her coat and then shrugged out of her coat. "Hi, Alexis, Martha."
She heard Castle's little indrawn breath and felt heat singe her cheeks only to be distracted as Martha had gently tugged her into a hug.
"Oh, Katherine darling, just look at you! You look wonderful," she gushed as she stepped back, her hands resting on Kate's shoulders as she scanned Kate from head to toe.
Kate bit the inside of her lip. She had gone home to change, out of the loose blouse she'd worn at the precinct where she was still trying to conceal her baby bump. Her coworkers were fascinated enough by the news of her condition; she didn't want to encourage it by looking obviously pregnant. But for this dinner, she'd changed into a soft wool sweater that clung gently to her curves, making the small curve of her stomach very visible.
"Beckett, you–you're pregnant," Castle blurted out and the inane statement (thankfully) broke through some of her discomfiture, making her huff a laugh.
Martha waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind him. But first, I'd like to find out what the story behind your little surprise for Richard is–although I'm sure he deserved every bit of it."
Kate glanced at Castle, meeting his eyes–and found herself relenting. "Oh, it was nothing, just some silliness at the precinct." She could imagine the kind of grief Martha might give Castle at playing a trick on a pregnant woman and somehow couldn't bring herself to subject Castle to it.
Martha nodded. "Well, Richard is often silly. Now, how have you been feeling? Are you still getting nauseous at times? I know when I was carrying Richard, I was feeling sick well after the sixth month, which should have warned me that he was going to be a trouble-maker."
Castle groaned. "Mother!"
Martha glanced back over her shoulder at her son. "Why are you even still standing there? Make yourself useful and go get Katherine something to drink. Katherine, what would you like?"
"Oh, just water is fine for now," she answered and the words were barely out of her mouth before Martha was ushering her to sit down on the couch.
"Get Katherine some water and bring my glass over too, will you, Richard," Martha instructed over her shoulder. "Now, how are you?"
Kate managed a smile. She was feeling a little overwhelmed from the enthusiasm of Martha's welcome and her concern but she certainly seemed to have worried for nothing as far as Martha's reaction. "I've been feeling better, fine really," she answered carefully but truthfully. "I haven't felt really nauseous in more than a week." Except for passing bouts here and there at certain smells but nothing too strong and she hadn't, thankfully, vomited recently. "I'm starting to feel hungrier than usual."
Martha nodded. "Well, we have plenty of food here and you must be tired too, especially with your work, so if you don't feel like cooking on any given day, feel free to come over anytime. Isn't that right, Richard?" she added as Castle appeared with a glass of water for Kate and a glass of red wine for Martha.
"Of course, you're always welcome, Beckett," he dutifully echoed but his eyes were sincere and she knew he meant it, just as much as Martha had.
"And of course if there's anything else you need, tell Richard or come to me anytime," Martha added, reaching out to pat Kate's knee with her free hand. Her voice lowered into what in anyone else would have been a whisper but for Martha was not quite. "And if you have any questions about what to expect going forward, I'm available since I know your mother is… not here."
Kate's throat closed at this direct mention of her mom and she could only nod. So like Martha, to refer to a subject as personal and painful as her mom's loss so openly whereas most people might skirt the edges. It was a little startling, yes, but the kindness and sincerity of the offer was unmistakable and impossible not to appreciate. Even if she couldn't quite imagine actually taking Martha up on her offer.
"I could use a hand in the kitchen, Mother, if you don't mind," Castle inserted rather loudly.
"Yes, yes, Richard," Martha answered before offering Kate a small smile. "He really can be hopeless sometimes but I'm sure you already know that, don't you? You just sit here and make yourself comfortable and dinner will be ready in no time."
With that, Martha swept back towards the kitchen, giving Kate the first moment of relative calm and privacy since she'd arrived. It was all a little overwhelming, especially for her since she was so used to living alone, but it was also… good. She sat back on the couch, taking the moment to note the Halloween decorations scattered throughout the loft, more fake cobwebs festooning the bookshelves leading into Castle's office, an almost-too-lifelike skull sitting on a side table, a number of ghosts hanging from the ceiling, and another jack-o-lantern carved in the image of Count Orlok sitting at the foot of the stairs.
Her lips curved as she stood up and crossed the room to inspect the pumpkin more closely. It really was very well done, eminently recognizable.
"That's my work," she heard Castle's voice close beside her.
She threw him a quick, sideways smile. "I kind of figured. Inspired by this case or maybe it was that bite?" she quipped.
Right on cue, he clapped his hand to his neck but then sobered. "It was the case but after how that ended, it's seeming less fun."
She sobered as well, sighing. "Yeah, I know what you mean." This had turned into another of the more painful cases; having to explain to Mr. Freeman what his wife had done had been one of the harder conversations she could remember having at work in a long time. She forced a small smile. "You really went all out with the decorations, I see, Poe."
He glanced around. "You think this is going all out? Oh believe me, Beckett, if I were hosting one of my usual Halloween parties, this is just the tip of the iceberg of the decorations that would be out."
She huffed a soft laugh. "Excuse me for doubting your decorating excesses."
He inclined his head a little. "You're excused." He paused and then added, more quietly, "Thanks for what you said earlier, to my mother."
She felt herself flushing a little. Even now, she wasn't entirely sure why she'd decided to protect him as it were, and from his own mother at that–which was a ridiculous thing to do. She shrugged. "What happens in the precinct stays in the precinct."
It was a lame line but Castle laughed anyway. "I know you already have water but how about a small glass of blood punch?"
"Castle–" she began. Knowing him, she could only imagine that any Halloween punch of his making would be spiked and she felt a little flicker of something like disappointment that he could be so thoughtless.
He seemed to guess her thought and hurriedly added, "It's not spiked. It's basically just Hawaiian punch and other juices. I used to make it for the Halloween parties for Alexis and her friends."
She relaxed. She should have known better, trusted Castle more. "Sure, I'll try a small glass and have some more water, if you don't mind."
"Of course, anything," he agreed readily. "Dinner is basically ready so just go sit down and I'll bring it right over."
She obeyed, moving to the table, featuring a Halloween-themed tablecloth covered in various grinning jack-o-lantern images.
Behind her, Castle raised his voice a little. "Alexis, dinner's ready."
Oh, right, Kate belatedly realized that Alexis had disappeared back upstairs after coming down that brief moment to greet her but then tomorrow was a Monday so it was likely Alexis had homework to finish up.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kate asked Martha, only to be firmly waved away by both Martha and Castle, who had now joined them.
"No, no, go sit down, Katherine," Martha shooed her away. "We have everything under control, I promise."
Kate had to obey and sat down and could only watch as Martha and Castle proceeded to bring over to the table what seemed like enough food to feed a family of 10, let alone the 4 that they actually numbered. There was a large salad, a basket of bread rolls, green beans, and roasted Brussell sprouts, and then Castle was placing in front of her a plate that already had a chicken breast and rice pilaf on it before returning with a small glass of what had to be the blood punch. That really did look almost too much like blood except it was a brighter red and an entirely different consistency. (Thankfully, the food items had not been altered to look like something Halloween-themed.)
Alexis slid into a seat on the other side of the table while Martha and Castle sat at either end of the table.
"This all looks delicious, thank you," Kate smiled at both Martha and Castle.
Martha inclined her head, an almost startling gesture considering the size of the hat she was still wearing (although she had set down the stuffed dalmatian), and lifted her glass. "Well, I would like to propose a toast."
They all dutifully raised their respective glasses as Martha continued with her trademark verve, "To family, including Katherine."
"To family," Alexis and Castle echoed and Kate's heart pinched a little at the word and how sincere they had all sounded.
"And happy Halloween!" Castle added.
"Oh Dad," Alexis sighed a little but the look she gave Castle was more fond than exasperated. The girl met Kate's eyes. "Dad really loves Halloween."
"I can tell," Kate couldn't help her faintly dry tone. "He does like holidays." He liked all holidays since she also remembered Castle insisting on "celebrating" such holidays as National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day, National Coffee Ice Cream Day, and National Cheeseburger Day, among others.
"I am a man of occasion," Castle declared with mock grandiloquence.
Alexis and Kate exchanged glances of mutual (fond) amusement and Kate couldn't help but think that it was a family-like thing to do.
To distract herself from the swift pang of emotion, she took a sip of the punch, rather pleasantly surprised at its taste, not too artificially sweet and really quite good.
She caught Castle's look and managed a smile for him. "It's good, thanks."
He almost preened. "It's a drink of my own concoction so I'm glad you like it."
"Katherine darling, I'm so glad Richard finally asked you to join us for dinner," Martha went on, a slight emphasis on the word, 'finally.' Kate's gaze swiveled back to Martha, who threw her son a faintly disapproving look. "Really, I don't know what has taken him so long to invite you over. You'll have to excuse him, Katherine. He's not usually so shy when it comes to women–"
Kate coughed. Castle, shy?! She could think of few words less appropriate for Castle.
"Mother," Castle tried to interject.
Martha ignored him as if he hadn't spoken. "I don't think he's been so uncertain of himself about a woman since he was a scrawny, gangly teen around Alexis's age."
"Mother!" Castle almost exploded.
Kate choked on a strangled laugh, glancing at Castle, whose cheeks were tinged with red. She couldn't picture Castle as ever having been scrawny, gangly perhaps, considering his height, but then she'd gone through a gangly phase herself.
Again Martha feigned deafness to her son's protest. "But you know, Katherine, for all his faults–and I'm sure you're well aware of most of them by now–"
Castle covered his face with one hand while giving an ironic wave with the other. "Oh, don't mind me, I'm just going to pretend I'm not here at all," he muttered.
"For all his faults," Martha sailed on with a little more emphasis before her tone softened, "he is a good man, you know, Katherine, and he'll be a good father to your own little one, as I'm sure Alexis here will attest."
Castle jerked his head up at this and Alexis glanced over at him and reached out to grasp his hand for a moment. "Yeah, he is," the girl confirmed quietly as Castle and Alexis exchanged a smiling look.
Kate felt warmth flood her chest, her throat tightening. It should have appeared like a mildly farcical scene, really, what with Martha-as-Cruella DeVil praising Castle-as-Poe in their respective, extravagant costumes, but it didn't. There was just so much… love… in the room that there was absolutely nothing ridiculous or remotely silly about it. There was, she thought, such a lot of love in this family–and while she might not feel a part of it exactly, it would include the baby, that was already clear. And the comfort, the security, of that knowledge seemed to settle over her like a blanket.
"I know," Kate addressed Martha quietly, sensing Castle's arrested look but not quite able to meet his eyes, at least not yet.
Martha nodded, her expression for a moment more that of the loving mother and grandmother she was than the flamboyant actress she generally behaved as. "I am happy for you." She paused and then added with a return to her usual manner, "And being a grandmother to a little baby will be such fun." She threw Alexis a gently teasing look. "Alexis here has gotten a little too old to play with often."
"Thanks, Grams," Alexis responded with mild irony. So very like Castle in that moment.
Kate had to smile.
Having now apparently teased her son and granddaughter enough for the moment, Martha waved a hand to indicate the table. "Now, we mustn't let the food get cold. Help yourself to the salad and side dishes."
"You'd think she hasn't been the one doing most of the talking so far," Castle muttered under his breath and Martha threw him a scolding look, even as he helped himself to some salad.
Kate choked on a laugh but reached for the bread basket in turn and for a while, the room was quiet as they each helped themselves and started to eat.
But perhaps predictably, no meal involving the Castles stayed quiet for long. Castle started it this time, turning to his mother to ask how the matinee of her show had gone that afternoon and Martha proceeded to regale them with a description of how one of the minor cast members had sneezed loudly right in the middle of a dramatic moment, entirely breaking the tension, although the other cast members had tried to improvise around it as if the sneeze had been in the script all along.
Unsurprisingly, Martha was quite a raconteur, almost as good as Castle was, and between her and Castle, Kate hardly had to do more than interject the occasional comment and if Alexis was a little quiet, well, with Martha around, there was barely an opportunity for Alexis to get a word in anyway.
The food was (of course) delicious and the dinner was loud and rather disorganized, punctuated with laughter and teasing. It was in every sense a real family dinner, one which, thanks to Martha and Castle, seemed like it involved more than only four people. The sort of dinner Kate couldn't remember being a part of in years, possibly ever really, since even when her mom had been around, Beckett family dinners had not been quite such noisy affairs.
But the baby would grow up with family meals like this being the norm, would be a part of this family with all its sense of fun and drama and, yes, love. It wasn't something she was used to herself but she was suddenly, fiercely glad to think that her baby would have all this, be a part of the Castle family.
After dinner, Alexis stayed to help clear the table but then excused herself, saying she had some homework to do, giving Kate a quick smile before disappearing upstairs. And shortly after that, Martha also left saying she had a Halloween party to attend, but not before giving Kate another scented hug and assuring Kate all over again that she should feel free to come over anytime, treat the loft as a second home and so on.
And then there were two.
Kate attempted to help but Castle firmly refused, insisting there was really nothing for her to do as all that needed to be done was load the dishwasher which wasn't a two-person task anyway.
Kate made a face at him but gave way, returning to the family room of the loft, ostensibly admiring the Halloween decorations while surreptitiously watching Castle as he puttered around in the kitchen. She was used to Castle as he was in the precinct, the goofy man-child, silly and a little clumsy, but it occurred to her that he was different in his home, in his kitchen. Okay, he was still silly. She hid a smile as he'd apparently decided to fashion a kitchen towel into a makeshift tri-corner hat and put it on. Possibly as an addition to his Poe costume, although he'd discarded the fake mustache at some point during dinner, making him dwindle–or perhaps ascend–from being the 19th-century poet to being the 21st-century mystery novelist. The silly mystery novelist, she mentally amended, since he appeared to be carrying on a running conversation with the dirty dishes and silverware because, no surprise, Castle didn't appear to be capable of staying entirely silent for long. (She caught snatches of words here and there, things like 'oh, you got very dirty today' or 'how did that stain get there,' or 'one good soak and we'll have you looking as good as new.') But for all his silliness, his movements were confident, capable, and not at all clumsy.
He looked… sexy. Wait, what? Damn it, fine, maybe he did. It was something about the brisk competence of his movements–and more about the fact that he'd shrugged out of his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, drawing attention to his arms–he had very good arms–and his hands. His big, capable hands.
She jerked her eyes away from the kitchen, her cheeks flaming at where her mind had wandered. She could not be thinking about this and she should not linger here, in his home, essentially alone with him since Alexis was upstairs, out of sight. It was too dangerous, too much.
"Beckett, can I interest you in a Halloween movie? I was thinking of watching Practical Magic or maybe Nightmare Before Christmas."
She managed a small laugh. "Thanks, but no. I think I'm just going to head home. It's been a long day and I'm a little tired."
"Well, maybe some other time. As my mother told you, you're welcome anytime. And I'm sorry, by the way, for my mother. I know she can be a little much."
"No, don't apologize," she hurriedly assured him. "I don't mind Martha. She was very kind."
He made a wry face. "I can think of other words to describe my mother but thanks. And I hope you don't mind Alexis going upstairs so quickly. I promise it's not you or anything to do with you that made her quiet today. She's a little down right now."
She turned to look at him in some concern. She hadn't really thought of it and certainly hadn't wondered if Alexis might be at all uncomfortable with her. "What's wrong? Is it Owen? I thought she was getting better with that."
"Oh, no, it's not Owen, it's–" he paused and then went on, his tone becoming almost lugubrious, "I probably should have mentioned it before but I have some sad news."
She narrowed her eyes at him. She couldn't quite tell if he was being serious or not; his tone was exaggeratedly mournful but his eyes were sober. "What is it?"
"It's about Feggin."
She blinked. This was about the egg-child Feggin? Maybe he was trying to be funny. "What about Feggin?"
"I'm afraid Feggin suffered an accident."
"An accident," she repeated rather blankly. Absurdly, she thought of Humpty Dumpty.
"Yeah." He paused. "Well, Paige said it was an accident but…" he made an eloquent face of doubt.
"Oh. She… broke their school project?"
"Yeah, Alexis is really upset about it, not so much about the grade but the loss of Feggin."
"Poor Alexis," she murmured. "Paige did it because she was angry at Alexis, didn't she?" she guessed. The senior party, what had fueled Castle's little brain wave about Morlock's ramblings, Paige's 'drunk talk.' Oh. "Paige got in trouble with her parents because of what happened at the party?"
"Well, yes, but I think it's more that she blames Alexis for calling me and then me for calling her parents to tell them. She didn't want her parents to find out. When I brought her and Alexis home yesterday, she said, well, mumbled that I shouldn't tell her parents." He sighed, making a small, rueful face. "It's making me feel a little guilty too because if I hadn't insisted, Paige wouldn't blame Alexis and she wouldn't have done what she did to Feggin."
"No, Castle," she hurried to assure him, reaching out unthinkingly to touch his hand. She had wanted to do so earlier when he'd told her that supposed story about what had sparked his interest in the macabre but had refrained because they'd been in the middle of the bullpen, luckily too, since the whole story had been a rigmarole he'd invented for her benefit. But this time, she knew his distress was genuine. And they didn't have an audience. "Paige's parents had to know about what happened. You did the right thing, the responsible thing."
"Even if it led to Paige killing Feggin?"
Killing Feggin–the word was a little startling, so stark and direct. She pictured the smiling egg that she'd actually brought home with her yesterday and absurdly felt a little spurt of something almost like grief. And for Paige to destroy something she had cared for as if it were a child–the parallel to what Janice Freeman had done to Matthew was impossible to avoid and she felt her throat tighten, tears pricking at the back of her eyes.
She ducked her head, trying to hide it, but naturally it didn't work and she felt Castle reaching for her, his hands sliding up her arms and then gently tugging her against him. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice little more than a breath.
He was hugging her. Again.
She swallowed and shut her eyes, burying her face in his shoulder, allowing herself to be held. Just for now, she told herself, she would let herself have this. Would let herself enjoy the warmth and strength of him, let herself have this comfort. Because it had been a tough case, because she missed her mom more every day, it seemed. Because she couldn't seem to help it.
Of their own volition, her hands had crept around to his back, clutched the folds of his shirt, as she almost sagged into him.
"I'm not crying over an egg," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his shoulder, trying and failing to sound something like her usual self.
"Of course not," he agreed quietly.
She couldn't tell if he was just placating her. "I'm not," she insisted a little more firmly. "I was thinking about the case, about what Janice Freeman did."
She felt his chest rise and fall with his sigh. "I know; I thought of that too when Alexis told me what Paige had done. Hard not to."
She remembered Alan Freeman's devastated face, his voice. She raised him. She was like his mother.
Her chest squeezed. She saw terrible things every day, it was the nature of her job, but this case really had been one of the worst in a long while. Because it was true, Janice Freeman had been Matthew's nanny from when he'd been a baby of two, his stepmother for almost Matthew's entire life but still, none of that had mattered. Janice had put herself first, ruthlessly so, killed three people for her own desires and her own self-preservation.
"I don't know. I was saying to Alexis that I think that's why I write about it sometimes, because I can't understand how some people can do the things they do."
"Man's inhumanity to man," she murmured. She didn't understand it either. She could piece together motives, the logic of it, but actually understand it, no, that she couldn't do.
"I don't know how you do it either."
She lifted her head a little to look at him. "Do what?"
"I write about it but you have to see it every day, all the terrible things people do to each other. And you keep fighting the good fight. It's another thing that makes you amazing."
"I'm a cop, just doing my job," she demurred. She did it for the victims, to speak for the dead, as Captain Montgomery had once told her. She did it for her mother's sake. She didn't say that aloud and anyway, Castle already knew it.
"It's an awfully hard job." His eyes were bleak, appeared almost gray in this mood, and she found she didn't like to see it.
"It is," she agreed, "but you know, earlier this year, this strange man started following me around all the time and somehow, he manages to make my job a little bit more fun."
Now, a faint smirk tugged on the corners of his lips. "Strange but in a good way, right?"
Yes, a good way, but she wasn't going to admit that aloud. "I've said all I'm going to say on the subject," she said with exaggerated dignity.
His smirk deepened slightly at the corners as he met her eyes–and she was suddenly, startlingly conscious of the fact that his arms were still around her, her body lightly resting against his, including the gentle curve of her stomach. Their baby effectively cradled snugly between their bodies. She didn't know why that thought had something inside her softening to a dangerous extent.
She hurriedly dropped her hands from his shirt and straightened, taking a quick step back, as he let his arms drop. She ducked her head, avoided his gaze, as she made a show of adjusting her sweater, twitching at her sleeves.
She heard him clear his throat a little and then he asked, his tone changing, "Do you think the DA will charge Janice Freeman with all three murders or just those of Matthew and Daemon?"
She greeted the change of subject with something like relief, in spite of its seriousness, sliding into her work persona as she thought about it. "The first murder didn't happen in our jurisdiction so I'm going to have to call up the local PD who found the body to try to make that happen. Elizabeth Dryden deserves no less. And then, since that first murder was the motive for the last two, the DA here will have to coordinate with the Pennsylvania prosecutors and try to arrange to have the cases consolidated and tried together."
"That's something, I suppose. She should be held accountable for everything she did."
"Yeah," she agreed as she shrugged into her coat.
She turned back to face him as they reached the door to the loft. "Say goodnight to Alexis for me and thanks for having me over and for dinner and, well, everything."
"Anytime. You're always welcome." The words were commonplace but the look in his eyes was not. His eyes were soft, filled with warmth and sincerity and something that looked almost like… tenderness. She remembered both Lanie's and her dad's assurance that Castle cared about her. She knew he did but this was looking like more than the mild fondness that came from friendship or even partnership. It looked dangerously close to… her mind shied away from finishing the thought. No, oh no, she wasn't going to think that, couldn't think that.
The moment had stretched a little too long and she felt a spasm of awkwardness, hesitating. After everything, it felt… wrong to just say 'goodbye' and leave, felt as if some gesture, acknowledgment, was necessary. Shaking his hand would be absurd and not right either. Which left…
Not allowing herself to think about it, she obeyed the sudden impulse and stepped in closer, close enough to again feel his warmth through her sweater, close enough so the curve of her stomach was again lightly resting against him, and brushed her lips against his cheek, conscious of the warmth of his skin against her lips, the faint roughness of his evening stubble. It was over in an instant, just the fleeting touch of her lips to his skin.
She averted her eyes as she stepped back, clearing her throat a little. "Night, Castle."
"Night, Beckett," he echoed.
And then she fled before she could do anything more stupid, like kiss him for real.
~To be continued…~
A/N 2: Thank you to all readers and reviewers.
