The day is warm. Hot even. The storm system has completely cleared out and taken its chilly air with it. It's finally starting to feel like summer out here. Castle insists that it's a perfect day to hit the lake, despite her protests that the water will still be too cold. But she follows him out to the dock none-the-less, keeping a tank top on over her swimsuit to protect her still healing skin from the sun. She sits on the edge of the dock, dangling her feet in the water, watching in amusement as Castle takes a running jump into the lake. How did she use to describe him? A nine-year-old on a sugar rush? Yeah, that's still accurate.
He resurfaces, rubbing the water out of his eyes before shifting to float on his back.
"How's the water?" she calls out to him.
"Cold, but I'm adjusting. We need to come back when you're all healed up so I can push you into the lake when you're just sitting there like that," Castle teases. "For now, splashing will have to do."
He shifts forward in the lake, sending a wave of water across her lap as he splashes. She hisses as the cool water races across her skin, yelling at him as she fights back by kicking water in his direction. She's almost as wet as he is by the time their splash war subsides. The laughter is still bubbling out of her by time he swims back to the ladder and collapses down on his towel beside her on the dock.
"There," he starts, shading his eyes from the sun with his arm. "I helped you go swimming today."
She tries to kick another splash in his direction, but they're both at the wrong angles for that to work. Instead she finds herself staring down at his bare chest, her eyes tracing over what she's already tried to memorize before she got shot. She finds a scar she's never noticed before, wondering if the sun has brought out its visibility.
"How old were you when you had your appendix taken out?" she asks.
He squints up at her. "What, do you have X-ray vision now?"
She traces over the tiny scar with her index finger. "This is where your appendix is located, isn't it? Or where yours was, assuming that's what this scar is from?"
"I was 14. Really thought I was dying. Mother's dramatics are inherited apparently."
"You're just now figuring that out?" she smirks.
He bats her hand away. "Only surgery I've had, thankfully. What about you?" Castle sits up, staring at her with wide eyes. "Well besides umm -"
She can't help but grin at how flustered he is. "It's okay, Castle, you can say it. Besides the surgery I had to repair the damage from a bullet I took."
"Yeah that."
You know, he's kind of cute when he's flustered. But she learned that months ago with the popped buttons and ice cube innuendos.
"My wisdom teeth were impacted so I had surgery to have them removed. But that was it until now."
"Aww did you have cute little chipmunk cheeks? Are there pictures? Can I see them?"
Kate narrows her eyes at him. "My cheeks did swell a bit but there is no documentation of this, luckily for me."
He huffs, laying back down on his towel. She shifts her towel and scoots back so her legs aren't dangling in the water anymore, laying down next to him.
"I can show you some old family photo albums later though. If you want. I don't know why my dad brought them up here but I spotted them yesterday. No chipmunk cheeks, but still plenty of things for you to mock me for I'm sure."
He turns his head to look over at her. "You're willing to open up your past like that for me?"
"You're at the Beckett Cabin, aren't you? I already have."
She's tending to the burgers on the grill for lunch, despite his protests that she should let him do it because she needs to rest, while he sits on the patio furniture, flipping through an old photo album she handed him. The leather spine is worn from years of flipping and reminiscing and he's still amazed that he gets to add to the wear.
Kate looks about five or six in these photos, all ready for her first year of school with a backpack almost as big as she is. Her hair is scraped up into an alarmingly high ponytail and she has the biggest grin on her face.
"Okay, Baby Beckett was adorable."
She snorts behind him, tossing a glance over her shoulder. "My dad did my hair on the first day of Kindergarten. Mom had to be out of town for a deposition and she was absolutely livid about it. She instructed Dad to take like a billion photos so she could feel like she was there with me every step of the way."
Castle glances over the next couple of pages. "Well he did an excellent job, I feel like I'm right there with you."
He makes it past the first day of school photos and suddenly it's Halloween in the photo album.
"You were a Dalmatian," he starts trying not to laugh. "You make the cutest puppy."
"I loved the movie 101 Dalmatians, okay? Give me a break, I was five."
"You even have face paint complete with black spots!"
He can hear her sigh behind him. "I had just gotten over the chicken pox, but my face was still a little spotty so my mom turned the spots into more of a costume. See? I told you there was plenty more for you to hold over me than my post wisdom teeth chipmunk cheeks."
"When I was five, my mother dressed me up as a carrot."
Kate spins around and points the grilling tongs at him. "I'm sorry, what?"
"She borrowed it from the costume department from the play she was in. It was the only thing they had in my size."
She chews on her lower lip like she's trying to contain her laughter. "You are so showing me pictures of this when we get back to the city. I've showed you mine, now you have to show me yours."
He laughs, flipping to another page of the album. "Tit for tat, huh?" He looks down at photos from what he assumes to be her sixth birthday party. "You even got a stuffed Dalmatian for your birthday, how cute is that? Do you remember its name?"
"Oh yes, I was very original and creative and named him Spot."
"Amazing."
He takes it all in, absorbs every page, as she finishes cooking lunch. He's learning so much about her just from these photos, delving into much deeper layers of the Beckett onion than he ever thought he'd get past. And he's still blown away that she trusts him with this, with her. That she's opening up her most vulnerable side to him, sharing all of these memories surrounding her mom, and she's not running from it.
He's just made it to summer, Kate being buried up to her neck in sand, when she slides a plate of food in front of him and sits to his left with her own plate. Castle reaches for her hand, drawing her gaze up from the photo album and towards him.
"What?" she asks, when he doesn't say anything immediately. "Did I already manage to get food on my face?"
"No, no, just...thank you."
"For lunch?" she asks, scrunching her eyebrows together. "You're welcome."
"No, not for - well yes, but I meant thank you for letting me in. I know you like to keep these walls up to protect yourself from getting hurt, but they're completely down out here. I just - thank you for trusting me with something so important to you, with your mom."
She squeezes his hand back. "Since you're in this with me now, I figured you should know who we're fighting for. And I want you to know all of me. If you're going to be in love with me, then you should know what you're getting yourself into."
He takes his other hand and tangles it into the still damp curls framing her face. "I know who you are, Kate. And no matter what else I learn about you, I'm still going to love you."
She puffs out a small breath, nudging her forehead against his. "We should eat before it's cold."
"Yeah okay. Right after I do this."
He closes the gap between them, pressing his lips against hers. He's gentle about it, tender, a high contrast from the frenzied way they'd been all over each other in the past. He wants to memorize the way she kisses, imprint it on his brain so he never forgets. The slide of her lips against his, the brush of her fingertips at his jaw, the little mewls he draws out of her when her desire takes hold.
His tongue glides along her lower lip, trying to get her to open her mouth to him. She obliges, letting him deepen the kiss and moaning into his mouth in the process. He doesn't know how they ever got by without existing like this. He never wants to face a reality where he's left without it, without her.
His lips leave hers, in favor of seeking out the bare expanse of her neck. She keeps her eyes closed, that same little mewl escaping past her lips as he grazes his teeth over her skin. He hears her chair squeak, imagines that she's rocking her hips forward, before she starts to push him away.
"Babe, you gotta stop," she says, her eyes still closed. "It's too soon - my heart - you have to stop before I don't want to stop."
He pulls away from her, still gripping her hand in his. She holds her other hand to her chest as she tries to slow her breathing down. Castle reaches out to brush her hair out of her face.
"I'm sorry, did I push you too hard? Are you okay?"
Kate smiles at him. "I'm fine. You're fine. Don't worry. I'm just not quite there yet. I want to be, believe me, but my chest has other ideas."
He strokes his fingers across her hand as he lets go and finally turns his attention to the food.
"I'm good with the kissing," he starts, picking up his burger. "It's doing a fine job of tiding us over."
She tosses him a look before picking up her turkey burger as well. "For you, maybe. I, on the hand, am craving an orgasm."
"Well, if we're being honest here," he starts with a laugh, before taking a bite of food.
"Yeah, uh-huh. I knew it."
"I've waited three years for you, Beckett, I can wait a few more weeks."
She runs her index finger around the rim of her water glass. "Yeah, but it's like now we know what it's like. How it good it is, exactly what we're missing out on..."
Castle keeps laughing. "Okay, I don't think talking about it is helping you any. Let's get back to this photo album. Where's this beach at? Around here somewhere?"
She sighs, picking up her glass for a drink before answering him. "There's a public beach a couple miles up the road. That's where it was taken."
"I see. And who's the one who buried you?"
"Dad. I made him do it."
He keeps eating as he flips through the pages, being careful not to get any food on the album. Kate proudly displaying a sand castle she built, her riding on her dad's shoulders as they watch fireworks burst in the distance, her mom pushing her on the swing, her grinning around a huge slice of watermelon at this very table. The epitome of summer through a young Kate Beckett's eyes.
"This is more background for Nikki Heat than you bargained for, huh?" Kate asks watching him, her tone full of amusement. "I bet you never expected to learn this much when you started writing that first book."
Castle laughs. "Well I never expected my muse to fall in love with me either and here we are. Wait, do you still hate it when I call you my muse?"
"I don't find it as jarring as I used to, no. It's growing on me, I guess."
"You guess," he huffs. "You know, I could easily find someone else willing to be my muse."
He sees something spark in her eyes, before he feels the press of her toes at his ankle.
She hums. "No, you couldn't. You'd miss me too much. And Nikki."
He seeks out her hand on the table again with another laugh. "Yeah, you're right. You're all the inspiration I need. Even if you still haven't completely warmed up to being called my muse."
She squeezes his hand before releasing it in favor of her turkey burger again. "You're a one muse, kind of a guy, buddy. And don't you forget that."
"Never, never," he laughs, returning his focus to the photos. "I take back my joke, okay? You're irreplaceable. I mean just look how cute you are hanging upside from the monkey bars."
"I'm making Martha show me old photo albums when we get home, you realize that don't you?" she asks, patting his knee before taking a sip of water.
He sighs, turning to another page. "I was afraid of that."