"Castle?"
"Mmm?" He's so sleepy, so relaxed here, with Kate in his arms.
"Castle- you mentioned something before about not wanting to be fully clothed on this couch-" And at that he's awake, looking at her, as she blushes and bites her lip- "so, what do you say? Shall we go be less clothed, someplace else?"
When Kate first stirs, it's not even dawn yet, the light is just beginning to change. New York certainly never sleeps, and it's never really dark. But the daylight is just beginning to peek into the room, and she's cold, realises she's not wearing a stitch. The covers have fallen off her, she thinks, before she pulls them back, meeting with resistance, and she remembers. Not her covers, not her bed. Castle's bed. And he's the one providing the resistance, tangled under the blankets. She burrows into him, and he rouses, pulls her closer.
When she wakes up next, it's probably not all that much later, but she's shocked awake by the realisation that she needs to get moving, go to work. Unlike the last time she awoke here, she can't spend the time enjoying a leisurely breakfast, or while away the day's hours in a cafe. Beckett needs to be in at the precinct by eight at the latest, and the glowing numbers on the clock are already showing seven. "Hey," she whispers.
He doesn't wake, but stirs and pulls her tighter. Hmm. Okay. Tempting as it might be to stay, Kate extracts herself from his grasp to nothing more than a moan, and tiptoes into the bathroom, turning the shower on and stepping under the hot water. With any luck the sound of the running water will wake him. She takes her time in the bathroom, drying off slowly with his bath towel. She looks at herself critically in the mirror before pulling her clothes on. She's always liked her legs, she'd wear heels every day if she could. She smiles at her reflection. She certainly hadn't heard any complaints last night. There's a mark, tiny, but visible to her, but it's low enough that the collar of her uniform will cover it. She's certainly not sorry she brought clean underwear with her last night.
She'd stood up first, looked down at him, still on the couch, shock apparent on his face. And, she thought, awe. She extended her hand, took his, pulled him up, pulled him closer. His hands had curled around her back, pulling her right back into him. She'd been wearing heels when she'd arrived earlier, but now he was taller than her, and she had looked up at him, found him looking down at her, smiling, raising a hand, strong fingers pushing her hair out of her face, twirling the curls around his fingers, reverently, before looking back at her, and closing the gap between their mouths-
Kate's out of the bathroom, and dressed, make up done. She hadn't had time to wash her hair, so it's pulled into a messy ponytail.
"Hey…"
He still doesn't stir.
"Hey…" Kate tries again, rubbing his shoulder as she does so.
Castle mumbles and rolls over, but doesn't open his eyes.
"Castle… I gotta go."
He mumbles again, and she can't tell if he heard her or not. Leaving before the other person is awake feels like a bad habit. She could leave a note, but just leaving? Not this time. She'd felt like like shit both times Royce did that to her, and this- whatever it is- well, she's oddly determined that she won't be the one to fuck it up. Not after last night. She senses she's on the precipice of something, and while the idea of going over the edge is terrifying, the idea of not seeing it through- that doesn't sit right. Not anymore.
"Castle?"
He opens his eyes, looks up at her- "Beckett, where you going?" he slurs.
She smiles and leans in and kisses him. "Gotta go, Castle."
Kate slips out the bedroom door, remembers to stop and collect her phone from the living room, before finding her shoes and shutting the front door quietly behind her. She pauses in Castle's hallway to put the heels on, and pulls her phone out from her pocket again, and sends a quick text before taking the elevator down to street level and hailing a cab. She'll change into her uniform at the precinct.
When Castle first stirs, it's barely an hour since they went to sleep, and the room is still as dark as New York City gets at night. Even the double glazing doesn't provide a complete barrier to the sounds of the city but at this time of night all is still. He listens to Kate's regular breathing beside him and thanks god that he met her when he did. All kinds of rabbit holes that he could have fallen down, but oh, he's found Kate, and he's not going to let her go, and he moves closer to her and is dreaming again before his hand has even closed possessively around her waist.
He's determined, purposeful. She tastes like red wine and desire and heat and he can't stop touching her, can't take his hands off her to lead the way from the living room to his bedroom. He sees her phone on the couch- it can stay there, as far as he's concerned. Her fingers are twisted in the belt loops on his pants, stopping him from moving too far away, as if he could anyway-
When he wakes up next, it's to a goddess looking down on him, and he thinks he's still dreaming, but then she's whispering that she's got to go, and he doesn't know why. He suddenly understands that it's Kate there, it's Beckett, and he wants her to stay, but sleep is calling him still, and he mumbles her name, asks why she's going, and she answers, and sleep pulls him under again.
There's an insistent chirp that he recognises as his phone, but before he can react to that, there's a different kind of noise at the door, and then a thump, and a small red head launches herself onto his bed with a squeal. He looks over and realises Kate has indeed left- he thinks he remembers her leaving- and much as waking up alone wasn't his idea of the best morning ever, he's grateful, because this, for Alexis, is too much, way too much.
"Daddy!"
"Pumpkin!"
"Daddy, we're late!"
"Late? For what, sweetheart?"
"School!" Alexis looks at him like he's insane.
"Okay, Alexis. Give me a second, I won't be long."
Alexis clambers off the bed and heads through his study, and he fishes around in his bedside table for underwear. His hand closes over his phone, and he checks the message. Short and sweet. Morning Castle… x. Not such a bad way to wake up, after all.
Kate's been in her uniform for less than an hour, her badge on her belt and her piece securely holstered. She's making a coffee in the break room, cursing herself for not making time to get a decent coffee before she got here, when the Captain calls her over. She thinks she shouldn't be sorry that a murder investigation is closed, but since they got the confession last night, she's been given a choice. Paperwork, or field work- in vice. She's flattered that she has a choice, she just wishes that working homicide was one of the options. But, in any decision between field work, or paperwork, she's never going to choose enclosure within the four walls of the precinct, so an hour later she finds herself rummaging through what they like to call wardrobe, making another choice- short red dress, or shorter black dress? They're both as low cut as each other, and she sighs, ruefully remembering the mark on her throat in a slightly less favourable light.
And then he was pushing her back, walking her backwards through the living room, into the office and through to his bedroom, laying her down on the bed, and the energy has changed, there's no stopping this time. He's hovering over her and she's reaching up, under his shirt, finding skin, fumbling with the buttons and he's against her and his thigh is between her legs and of their own accord her hips are moving against him, and he is pushing her shirt up, over her head, and his mouth is at her throat-
"Beckett." Hunter nods at Kate as she enters the bathroom and reaches into the box Kate is looking through, selecting the red dress without a second thought. Right, thinks Kate. Black it is.
"You too, huh?"
Hunter nods. "Uh-huh. Have they given you background yet?"
"No, not yet."
"Me either."
Hunter is new to the precinct, and Kate likes what she's seen of her so far. This will be their first time working together. Ugh. As she squeezes into the black dress, she shudders. Maybe she should have chosen paperwork. She pulls her eyeliner out of her purse, leaning in over the sinks, and sets to work fixing her make up- or rather, ruining what she expertly applied in Castle's bathroom this morning. Ugh. There is not enough coffee in the world. Gone is the respectable NYPD officer. In her place is, well, a street walker. Damn. It should be illegal to have to wear this much eye make up at nine in the morning.
A/N: I had a few requests to change this to an M rating (!) but I couldn't quite do it- I think it comes close, but I think I probably snuck in under the T line :) As always (I don't always make the author's notes, but I am always thinking it!) thank you for reading, for the reviews, for the follows and the favourites.
