Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. The only profit being made is my own amusement (and hopefully yours).
November
The next few weeks are filled with picnics and trips to the museum on her days off, long phone conversations after work, shoulder massages when they're alone in the break room, and stolen kisses in the backs of cabs.
He never pressures her to stay after she has dinner at his apartment; she doesn't invite him in when he drops her off at night. At first she can't put her finger on exactly why she's holding out on him. She's never been a prude, never had a problem with sleeping with someone after several dates as long as she likes him enough. Eventually she realizes that this is precisely the reason. Her normal pattern is to go out and go to bed with guys first, and only sometimes fall in love with them afterward. This time she's already in love, and doing things the other way around makes her feel especially vulnerable, makes her feel that there's more at stake than usual.
When Castle asks her to dance at Ryan and Jenny's wedding, she tries to ignore the stares of Lanie and Esposito as she follows him to the floor. Their bodies aren't touching, except for their joined hands and her hand on his shoulder and his hand on her waist, yet she imagines that she feels little sparks radiating from him, into her chest and into the pit of her stomach. Her dress isn't quite as revealing as the one he gave her for that charity event, but she still feels exposed, because she wants him but is scared of it, and she knows everyone in the room can see it.
She's pondering the least awkward way to ask him to spend the night when he suddenly says, "I need you to come over to my place later."
She feels herself blushing and wonders how he managed to figure out her line of thought.
It's Castle's turn to look embarrassed. "That's not what I meant," he adds quickly. "Alexis is home for the weekend. She wants to talk to you."
"What about?"
"She wouldn't say." Castle looks worried. "You'll tell me, right?"
"Only if it's okay with Alexis."
He opens his mouth to protest. "But—"
"No buts, Castle. Remember last time she asked me for advice and you got all worked up for no reason?"
His forehead wrinkles even more. "It's different this time. Something's really bothering her."
"Do you trust Alexis?"
"Absolutely."
Beckett knows how protective Castle is of Alexis, how he and his daughter are closer than she's ever been to her own father. Now she wonders if he'll ever fully welcome her into such an important part of his life. Taking a deep breath, she ventures, "Do you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Then let me talk to her and let her decide what she wants to let you know. Okay?"
He's quiet for a long time, as if he's fighting an urge to object. "Okay," he agrees at last.
She smiles. "I'll try to get her to talk to you. You can count on me."
"I know." He smiles back. "Now let me show you some of my best dance moves."
She has to concentrate to keep up when he leads, and for all the running she does in high heels, she still stumbles when he tries to twirl her. "I'm not used to this," she says with a laugh, as she collides against his chest.
He puts both hands on her arms to steady her, and she's thinking of that day in the shooting range, her hands guiding his as he aims at the target.
"We'll get there," he says solemnly, and she can tell by his tone that he's not talking about dancing anymore. He's talking about them, what they are now and what they might be one day.
She looks up to meet his eyes, serious but still with a glimmer of that Castle spark that she's come to know and love. "Yes," she whispers in agreement, so that only he can hear, "we will."