Heartlines
co-authored by Sandiane Carter and chezchuckles
Beth runs a light, reverent finger over the bustier of her dress, the lace and the pearls that catch the morning light as it hangs from the mirror.
Beautiful. She can hardly believe that she gets to put it on – less than an hour now – gets to walk down the aisle in it, put her hand on top of Alex's -
So surreal.
So surreal. She shakes her head slowly, but she's serene about it, her calm unwavering. Unlike last night. A blush creeps up her neck when she thinks about it, shame tingling on her skin - what a childish thing to do, wake her elder sister to be comforted in the middle of the night.
And yet Kate didn't say anything, just held her, said the right words, like their mother would have done. Beth smiles. Kate always says that out of the two of them, Beth is the one who's more like Johanna, but it's not an absolute truth.
It – fluctuates. Depends on the moment.
And Beth loves this, that their mother's spirit seems to be shared between the two of them, moving from one to the other like a mysterious, beautiful dance, and sometimes, like water overflowing from a too small cup, filling them both.
The wooden door opens energetically, breaking Beth's reverie, as Lucie steps into the Bride's Room.
"Beth. What are you waiting for? Get into that dress," she commands in a bossy but affectionate voice, worthy of Elise. "We still have a lot to do."
The bride-to-be grins, and her heart flutters as Lucie unzips the dress, the sound tearing her calm apart, opening her wide to swirling excitement.
Married. She's getting married.
Some part of her wants to giggle and clap her hands like a little girl, but the rest, the part who wants to be like Kate, to follow her big sister's example, forbids it. So she settles for an excited squeeze of Lucie's shoulder as she steps into the dress, relishing the caress of the cool, soft fabric on her skin.
She turns, allowing her friend to zip it back up, and wraps her arms around her waist, a little dizzy with realization, with the emotion that makes her heart pound.
Lucie twirls her, inspects her, and beams.
"Oh my god, Liz, you're gorgeous," she exclaims, and she pulls Beth in for a hug, apparently unable to find another way to express her delight. Not that Beth minds. Words aren't her best friends either right now.
A soft sense of wonder falls over her, like little snowflakes trickling into her consciousness, gathering around her heart; a white, fluffy coat of happiness.
And when Lucie lets go and says, "Shall we take care of your hair now?", Beth can only smile and nod, because her throat has become this narrow passageway and air can barely come through anymore. She has to blink a few times, dispel the wetness that threatens at her eyes.
Lucie gives her sly smile, tilts her head.
"You know, if you have to cry, better to do it now. Before your make-up is on."
Beth lets out a tiny laugh, a poor, strangled thing, but a laugh anyway, and a look of triumph flashes through Lucie's face.
"Now sit down. We've got to do something for that hair of yours."
"With, not for," Beth says automatically, years of correcting each other's non-native languages coming back to her.
"Right. With. Now. Your hair, Beth."
The door creaks open and Beth turns her head to the noise, catches a glimpse of her father peering into the room. Lucie hisses, warns, "Don't move now, I'm almost finished."
Beth waits patiently, obedient, meeting Jim's eyes in the mirror and smiling at him. Lucie tugs one last curl out of the elaborate bun she's put together, twirls it around her finger before she releases it and inspects the results of her efforts.
Beth's hair is longer now than it was in the spring after she cut it, but it still hasn't grown back all the way. And to be honest, she doesn't want it to grow back all the way - she likes it now, just brushing past her shoulders. She likes shaking her head and feeling the softness of the curls, the tickle along her skin. Lucie has complained about the length, said it's harder to work with, but the woman in the looking glass is absolutely lovely: white, tiny flowers stuck in her dark hair, the soft waves all tamed, except for a few strands that make a charming halo around Beth's face.
"Nice job, Luce," she says admiringly, tilting her head to admire her friend's work.
"You like it?"
Lucie's voice is doubtful, her eyebrows knit as she eyes Beth, unappreciative of her own talent. As always.
The bride rises from her chair and turns to her, snagging Lucie's hand and waiting until the dark eyes have met hers.
"I love it," she promises quietly, smiling. "Thank you."
Lucie's face relaxes, a small, responsive grin tugging at her lips.
"I have to agree," Jim says from his observation post at the door. "That's very nice."
Surprised, Beth's friend turns to him, a slight blush spreading on her cheeks. "Oh, Mr. Beckett. I didn't know you were here. I - thank you."
"Just giving credit where it's due," he states, dismissing her gratitude with a little wave of his hand. Then he turns to his daughter, blue eyes twinkling with pride, gives her his close-lipped smile that Kate has adopted as well.
"Oh," Lucie says suddenly. "I have to see Elise about the - about the - flowers. I'll be back soon, Liz." And she disappears without further ado.
Jim laughs, the slow, warm sound that always makes Beth want to curl in his lap. "She's a sweetie, isn't she? Not very subtle, but adorable."
Beth smiles, assailed by all sorts of memories - Lucie screaming and calling for her ("Liz you *have* to kill that spider right now!"), Lucie bringing her tea and cookies in bed that week when she was so sick she could barely stand up, Lucie laughing and clinging to her arm when they went ice-skating in Paris, in front of the Hotel de Ville. (Beth had bruises on her biceps for days after that.)
"She's amazing."
"Makes two of you," her father says with a sly smile.
"Aww, dad. You're not allowed to make me cry," she laughs, doing her best to nip her emotion in the bud. It works, sort of. But then Jim steps forward, cups her cheek with one hand, a wistful look on his face.
"You're just as beautiful as she was," he murmurs, almost reluctantly.
And just like that, the tears are back, pushing fiercely at Beth's eyelids. Her breath chokes in her throat, her chest constricted, painful. No need to ask who 'she' is.
"Am I?" She can't help but ask, even though she hates herself for it. The fragile, insecure feeling of last night makes her heart pound again; and just like last night, Kate is there when her sister needs her most - opening the door.
"Beth, could you -" Kate stops in the middle of her question when she realizes their father is here, and steps fully inside the room to embrace him, kiss his cheek. "Oh, hi, Dad."
"Katie. You look...great."
Jim has never been very big on words, but he is right - Kate looks absolutely divine. Her hair is this complicated but lovely tangle of braids, uncovering the fluid line of her neck; the green of the bridesmaid's dress highlights her eyes, the fabric hugging her figure. Beth is proud of her choice.
A flash of silver at Kate's ears tells her that her sister is wearing the earrings that Beth bought as a present to her bridesmaids; Swarovski earrings, rhodium-plated with a crystal drop that catches the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Simple, but elegant; and they work just as well on Kate as they do on Lucie and Alexis.
Kate holds out the bracelet she'd run back to the car for. Their mother's bracelet. "I found it. Must've fallen out of the bag."
"Oh good," Beth sighs, grabbing it from her sister and sliding it on. She closes her fingers around it on her wrist, presses it against her chest. "Something old, then."
There's a pregnant pause during which they all look at each other, Kate and Beth and Jim, the silence heavy with meaning between them, charged with Johanna Beckett's face, and the ghost of her bright laugh.
The things that were lost; the things that can never be recovered.
But then Jim wraps an arm around each daughter, crushes them both into his sides; Beth laughs shakily, hugs back. Her hand finds Kate's at their dad's back and their fingers intertwine, squeeze.
"My baby girl's getting married," he says in a ruff, raw voice.
"You mean, *my* baby," Kate says, her words full of the smile that Beth can't see.
And they all laugh together this time, and it doesn't matter if it's a little forced, if it's not quite right. Because they're all together now; they've found their way back, and they're doing this. However tentatively. They're doing life without Johanna. It's not just surviving anymore - it's living, living around the jagged edges maybe, building over the dark well of pain, but living anyway.
And Beth knows that her mother would be proud of them.
Now for something borrowed. "Katie."
Her sister lifts her head, smiling. "I know. It's in my clutch. Let me get it."
Kate disengages from the family hug, but her father keeps his arm around Beth, squeezing, staring at her and taking her in. Beth's heart is pounding because she still is half stunned that Kate even offered it. Something old, something new, something borrowed-
When her sister comes back to them, she opens her hand to the diamond ring on its gold chain. "Here it is. Something borrowed, baby sister."
And then their father takes the necklace and slides it over Beth's head, brushing his thumb along her cheek to catch the tear.
"You're beautiful, Beth. Absolutely beautiful."
Alex is on the lookout, half hidden in a recess of the hallway, the stone blessedly cool at his back. His eyes are watching hungrily, intently waiting on the Bride's Room's door to open, on the Becketts to come out.
Well, not all of the Becketts.
One of the flower girls passes him, gives him a suspicious look; Alex knows what she must think, how ridiculous he looks. A grown man, the groom, all dressed up and an hour from being married (less than an hour, he thinks, glancing at his watch, and his stomach does this somersault thing) - and yet he's hiding like a little boy.
But he doesn't care; he really, really wants to catch her alone. Before.
He's not sure why - he doesn't doubt, no, nothing like that; there's no hesitation amidst the rush of excitement and anticipation that tingles through his veins. But he needs to see her. It's physical, irresistible (like that song by the Corrs. Oh yeah. He just went there). His brain is on overdrive, won't shup up - this is why he needs Beth, needs the soothing calm she distills, the way his world quiets when she's near.
His love.
At last, at last, Jim Beckett comes out, says something about going to greet Mrs. Rodgers, and disappears. One down, one to go. Alex is poised, ready. Come on, Kate. Get out of there.
The moment she does leave - he gets an impression of lovely green and pale skin, of braids that remind him of Padme in the second Star Wars movie - Alex is on the move, sneaking to the Bride's Room and opening the door, slipping inside in a split second. Ha. He needs to tell Castle about his ninja skills.
Beth is facing the window; she turns when she hears him.
Air deserts his lungs; his heart stops.
He can't -
Can't think. Can't speak.
She smiles, beautiful, beautiful, that sparkle in her eyes and the curve of those lips and this adorable curl flirting with her neck -
Before he's even aware of it, he's moved, stepped closer, entranced, fascinated as he is. This quote from Romeo and Juliet, about never seeing true beauty till this night (he can't remember the exact wording; his brain is sullenly refusing to work) makes sudden sense now. Oh god, it does.
"I," he starts, then stops, wordless, struck silent by this woman who is going to be his wife.
Her smile grows, flourishes, wraps around his heart like a warm, gentle hand.
"I know," she murmurs, resting a hand against his chest and raising to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. She doesn't need to - she's wearing heels and even without them, she's almost as tall as him - but he loves the way it pushes her against him, her body rising to meet his, all lovely curves and gorgeous lines cradled by this astonishing dress.
He sweeps his tongue across her lower lip, can't help it; Beth hums against him, parts her mouth for him, her hands coming up to his neck and drawing him closer.
There's something to this kiss - something different. He's not sure what it is, the delicious knowledge that in an hour she'll be his wife, the beautiful setting of the old church, the majesty of the stone and the light spilling from the stained glass window; but their kiss has a taste of sweet, sensual promise, a taste that he wants to cherish and savor for the rest of his life.
"I love you," he whispers when they part, the words falling from his lips as naturally as the breath he exhales.
Beth beams, and he has to blink stupidly, a little blinded.
"I know."
Castle isn't the first to cry. But he's the first of the procession to cry, which totally sucks. The problem is, he's standing in the line of groomsmen across from the line of bridesmaids and there's half his family right there, beautiful and smiling and that look of awe on their faces as they watch Beth and Alex during the ceremony.
Alexis just stuns him with her so very adult poise and her beautiful face and the way she - all of the sudden - isn't his little girl any more.
And then Kate.
God, thank you for Kate.
Just.
He has to swallow hard to keep it back, but he can't look away from Kate. Her hair wrapped around her head in what she termed waterfall braids and the long line of her neck to the bare shoulder that he's kissed and caressed and claimed.
He's still got the shadow of a black eye but Kate put some stuff on it to hide it. Her brusies and the teeth marks are mostly gone, which he's actually kind of grateful for. It was funny at first, but he doesn't want everyone who doesn't know them to think that he's been abusing her or something.
Kate just chuckled at him and nibbled on his bottom lip, then told him to go get the car.
And he's going to marry her. Soon. She wants to have kids with him. Soon.
So of course, that's when it hits him. The tears. They choke his throat first, and then he doesn't want to draw attention to himself by rubbing at his eyes or tilting his head back or any of the other tricks, so he just lets the couple drops slip down his cheeks and he tries to stop looking at Kate.
But then his eyes go to Beth and Alex, and the way Beth looks at Alex, and she's so much like Kate - she's always looked like Kate but with a rounder face - and then it's well and truly hopeless.
He blinks fast and happens to look back to Kate and then that's even worse because now she's looking at him too, and her eyes are so tender as they regard him, so loving, and shit - she's not crying too.
Kate Beckett is tearing up a little. But Castle broke first.
Esposito's won fifty bucks. Damn.
Kate watches her dad and Beth dancing alone on the floor, the music simple and elegant as they move through the steps. Her father looks nervous, but he's pretty adept on his feet.
Castle comes back to their table with another plate of the groom's chocolate and raspberry cake; Kate turns and smiles at him, pulling out her fork.
They share the second piece between them, eating in silence, bumping knees, Kate licking the frosting off of her fork, Castle scraping raspberry cream onto her side of the plate. During their drive to the reception, she gave him hell for crying and making her get teary-eyed as well, but he was curiously silent.
She thinks she knows what that was about. He'd been staring at her with such intensity that she was surprised his thoughts weren't projected like a movie on the wall of the cathedral.
When the cake is gone, Beth and her father are taking their second dance while Alex and his mother step out onto the parquet floor as well. Castle leans back in his seat and stretches his arm out along the top of her chair, his fingers brushing her bare shoulder.
She feels goosebumps rise and leans in to him, resting against his side, her hand on his thigh. "So, Castle. Are we gonna go looking for rings later?"
"Eh, yeah. Whenever."
Whenever? Not the answer she's looking for.
"Want to do that tomorrow? I've got to go in to the station, but later-?"
"I can think of something else I'd rather do," he says, flashing her a look.
Kate laughs and reaches up to rub frosting from the corner where his lips meet. Castle's eyes darken and his hand captures hers, brings her thumb to his mouth, sucks the chocolate from her skin.
She stares at him, all higher thinking wiped clean from her head, and she knows, somewhere, that he did that on purpose. She just can't bring to mind why. Other than to have her haul him off to the bathroom down the hall for a-
"Kate."
"Uh."
"Will you dance with me?"
She manages to cut her eyes from his mouth to check the dancefloor - everyone's allowed on now, and people have already started filling it up.
"Yes," she answers, a smile spreading across her face. She wants to dance with him. All night.
Castle stands and offers her his left hand, his eyes brilliant and soft as he looks at her. She takes the proffered hand, squeezes, and gets to her feet, the heels of her shoes bringing her even with his mouth.
She kisses him softly, feels the metal of that crown ring against her own fingers, smiles into the kiss.
They're next. She and Castle.