Jump: A Very Caskett Halloween
A few song suggestions to get you in the mood, since it's May instead of October as you read this: "I put a spell on you" and "Bad moon rising," (CCR) "Superstition," (Stevie Wonder) "Center of the sun" and "Sleep," (Conjure One) and "Undun," The Guess Who.
Kate dug into the back right corner of her top drawer. She knew it was in here somewhere. Why was it only when she was in an all-out sprint to get dressed that her lingerie chose to be insubordinate?
"Rick? Were you sneaking in my top drawer again?"
She called out through the closet door, still digging, hoping he would hear her from the bathroom where he was nearly finished tying his tie. She was still naked in their closet, looking for underwear. This was the downside to being the only one who could actually sign off on the paperwork from their early morning pop-and-drop. It was a welcome change from Wednesday's exploding chemical warehouse, though.
Rick stuck his head in through the open closet door.
"Now why would you think that?"
She turned to give him her best Beckett glare, which she was thoroughly proud she could do even while naked. Maybe that came from living in his loft with his lack of respect for personal space for half a year.
"You've been known to encroach on occasion."
He leaned casually against the doorjamb and raised both eyebrows, looking entirely too devious to be innocent. He seemed to have surfaced from the depths of his half-panicked funk since Wednesday. It might have had something to do with the frequent and thorough sexercise they'd had since then.
"Why Detective Beckett, I have no idea what you're talking about."
She put one hand on her hip and tipped her head to the side.
"I'd love to hear you explain how my purple thong ended up in my top desk drawer at the precinct without your intervention."
He narrowed his eyes.
"I already told you—that was the underwear fairy."
"Go tie your tie and let me get dressed."
He shifted his weight off the wall and raised his hands in surrender.
"You're the one who called me in here…"
"And now I'm banishing you."
He pointed both index fingers at her chest.
"You so cannot banish me from our closet. It's half mine."
"I can banish you from my half. And stop pointing at my breasts."
He fisted his hands and took a step backward.
"Fine. But hurry up, naked hot woman. We're going to be late."
He stuck out his lower lip in a pout and turned on his heel.
It was Friday night, and thankfully the team had the weekend off. Next Wednesday was Halloween, and since it fell on a weeknight, all the parties were the weekend before. Rick had asked a few weeks earlier if she wanted to host one, go to one, or just dress up for each other… privately.
She'd answered that any or all of the above would be fine with her. He'd listened, and of course gone slightly overboard. They were going to some big fancy shindig tonight, no costumes required. Tomorrow they were having people to the Old Haunt in full Halloween gear, costume contest and Monster Mash and all. He hadn't specified when they might have their private celebration, but she had something tucked away for that occasion when it arose.
Even before the debacle at the warehouse, she'd had a feeling about their date tonight. It was a funny, buzzing intuition that something was up. To his credit, Castle hadn't given anything away. Considering the man's inability to contain himself in the face of a surprise, maybe she was wrong.
She didn't think so, though. And whatever this Spidey Sense was, it only seemed to have escalated in the face of their traumatic week.
She finally found the black striped lace bra and matching underwear she had been searching for and slipped them on.
"How fancy is this thing, tonight?"
"Oh, not too fancy. Wear something comfy. And look hot."
She rolled her eyes in the direction of his voice. Yes, because all cocktail dresses were meant to be both "comfy" and "hot" simultaneously…
They were in the back of his town car, headed to some gallery opening for an artist she'd never heard of. He'd mentioned popsicle sticks and gumdrops. These things only got more and more bizarre.
But over time, she'd concluded that going out to boring society events was really a small price to pay for having Richard Castle as her significant other. And if they occasionally made Page 6, she didn't notice. She certainly hadn't been clipping the photos and keeping them in an accordion file on her side of the desk in the office.
Rick seemed on edge, fingers tapping restlessly on his knee, despite the fact that he had one arm flung casually around her shoulders.
They made a sharp turn, and she ended up shoved tightly against his side. As they straightened up again, he reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small, polished, wooden jewelry box.
Her breath caught.
It looked suspiciously like a ring box.
Oh god. This was what she'd been sensing.
She felt her heart stutter, then pound against her ribs.
After all of his careful sidestepping, his obvious efforts not to spook her since she'd moved in…
He was… really… this was it?
He held the lustrous rosewood cube in his palm, offering it to her across their laps.
She couldn't help the incredulous outburst.
"Really? Seriously? You're doing this here? Right now?"
"I know you're going to make fun of me for acting sappy like Jenny was with that horrible tie. I accept that I'm ridiculous; I couldn't help it."
When she just continued to stare dumbly at him, he continued.
"It's the six-month anniversary of the weekend you moved in."
Her fingers were numb as she took the box and opened it, afraid, elated, awestruck.
The hinge creaked slightly, and damn it if she didn't shut her eyes for an instant.
She was having trouble taking a breath.
Enough was enough.
She opened her eyes and looked into the box.
It wasn't a ring.
A pair of simply-set diamond earrings were nestled in the blue velvet lining of the box. Square-ish stones held in place by wide, white metal prongs, probably platinum knowing Castle.
Her heart lurched to a halt as an unreasonable sense of disappointment washed over her.
She couldn't speak.
She should thank him, tell him no, say they were too extravagant.
But all she could think of was that they weren't a ring.
Where were these feelings coming from? She'd barely been his girlfriend, much less his house-mate. Why did she think half a year of a serious relationship constituted the foundation for a lifetime? Maybe because, if she was honest with herself, they had been in a relationship for more than four years.
She must have still had an expression of shock on her face, because Castle seemed to think he needed to explain himself.
"I know you don't want me to buy you expensive jewelry, but my jeweler called me a few weeks ago and told me he had a set of matching stones, and I had told him months ago to keep an eye out for sets. I just want you to have something special from me, and they really aren't too flashy, and your hair will hide them mostly if you have it down…."
How stupid she was. Of course he wasn't going to… do that… in the backseat of his town car, on their way to a Halloween party. But for just a second, she had thought….
She couldn't take her eyes off the stones sparkling in the little box, part of her brain still stuck in the moment of panic (excitement? joy?) when she had first seen the box in his hand. Apparently her silence had exhausted his patience. His voice sounded completely unsure when he spoke again.
"Kate?"
Time to snap out of this overly-dramatic situation you invented for yourself, Beckett. God, he and Martha must be rubbing off on her.
"They... they're beautiful."
She chanced a look over at his face, smiling at him shyly.
One corner of his mouth started to turn up, but he still sounded unsure of her reaction.
"Will you wear them? Or do you want me to take them back?"
She had begrudgingly come to terms with his desire to occasionally spoil her. It had taken months of minor arguments and a few big blow-ups to make him understand that if he was going to do so, then she wanted to use her money to spoil him, too. But living with him, sharing his space and her heart, all of that turned on their ability to compromise.
He still bought her ridiculous lingerie that she didn't need, thanks in part to his co-conspirator, Dora, and the Texan's never-ending source of nighties, her Ladies Boutique. And he did force her to take vacation for two weeks over the summer at his house (mansion) in the Hamptons. But he didn't try to force cars, or clothes, or jewelry, at least until now. That was one mental justification for why she had jumped to the biggest and most overblown conclusion about what piece of jewelry he might be giving her now.
As the adrenaline began to wear off, she found that she didn't want to fight him on these earrings. They were beautiful, and simple, and she would wear them. Time to let him off the hook.
"Of course I will, and no, you can't take them back."
She smiled as she started to remove them from their blue velvet cushion. He looked somewhat shocked, actually, at her adamant answer.
"What is this cut? I don't think I've ever seen it before."
She removed her silver hoops and put them in her clutch.
"It's called an Asscher. A very old cut—just recently became popular again. Some people call it 'square emerald,' but if you look down at them, I think they look like infinity mirrors."
They did. She had to admit, this man had good taste. Unique but understated setting, not too big or flashy. She put them on and turned to him, holding her hair back out of the way.
"What do you think?"
His eyes had gone soft, his expression cryptic, with lips pressed tightly together in a smile.
"That they're almost as beautiful as the woman wearing them."
She couldn't help the little flutter in her chest at his words, but she didn't have to let him in on it.
"Sap."
He put the empty box back in his coat pocket and pulled her against his side.
"Maybe, but that doesn't negate the truth of my statement."
She looked out the window for the first time since they'd left the loft and saw they were on a bridge.
"There's a gallery opening in Brooklyn?"
He nuzzled his nose against her ear.
"I may have misled you slightly regarding our destination for the evening."
She pulled away enough to turn and face him with what she hoped was an intimidating glare.
"Where are we going, Castle?"
Gleeful. Yes, that twinkle in his eyes looked absolutely gleeful.
"It's a surprise."
She rolled her eyes and let the full force of her sarcasm taint her words.
"You know how I just love surprises…"
"You're going to love this one. We're almost there."
They were exiting the bridge and veering left onto the Brooklyn Queens Expressway.
"So no high society mingling?"
"Absolutely not."
"In that case, I guess whatever it is, it can't be that bad."
They exited in Greenpoint, and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The street they turned down was decidedly not in the best part of the neighborhood.
"Calm down, Detective. You'll see."
They turned down a block with public housing, and then rounded the corner past a boarded up, abandoned four-story structure overgrown with weeds. They continued to the corner where they pulled up in front of a neatly-maintained beige brick building. She saw a woman in a vintage corset and overskirt directing a couple inside.
"A haunted house?"
"Ah, but not just any haunted house. This is the Steampunk Haunted House. All very H. G. Wells and Sherlock Holmes with no blood and guts or gore. Think Wild Wild West and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen meet Victorian period costumes."
She smiled, truly impressed.
"Yeah, I know what Steampunk is. I heard about this haunted house last year. But they had it at a theater in Manhattan, I thought? This looks like-"
"The former outpatient wing of Greenpoint Hospital. It's a converted artspace now, though."
He actually bounced up and down, and then he shoulder-bumped her.
"I think you'll like it. Last year they did Alice in Wonderland, and this year it's the same theme but way longer."
As they exited the car, the costumed woman met them at the curb. She was in full gothic-style make-up.
Rick handed her two tickets.
"You're just in time, dearies. Right this way."
They entered and were transported immediately into a shadowy blend of Victorian past and steam-mechanized future. As part of a small group, they were led through the candle-lit space a few at a time by costumed characters from a very dark version of Alice in Wonderland.
She grabbed Rick's hand when the lights went out just as they rounded a cobwebby corner.
He stepped up close behind her as fog billowed out from the space before them, sinking some sort of large metal machine in haze. A woman pulled a large chain, turning a set of elaborate cogs that ran floor to ceiling. This operated a red velvet curtain, which opened to reveal Alice, being pulled through the looking glass.
They continued on through fractured fairytale scenes, depicting the antithesis of the Disney version of Wonderland.
The detail was astonishing, with characters outfitted with odd, mechanized goggles, magnifying glasses, and robotic prostheses. Strobe lights, creaking doors, metal scraping concrete, layers of fog and blasts of steam framed the plotline. They had to climb ladders, negotiate tight turns in complete darkness, and at one point she swore they were climbing out a window. All of it made her acutely grateful that she'd worn a loose, flowing, cocktail-length dress and only three-inch heels.
She was buzzingly spooked and completely beguiled by the whole experience, smiling like a teenager dragging her boyfriend through the fun house at a carnival.
The only iffy moment came when a large hatch door fell shut immediately in front of them, and a bone-shaking boom reverberated. Rick was right behind her, hands wrapping over her biceps and tugging her back into his chest just after the noise made her startle backward. Her mind jolted into panic briefly, and he whispered in her ear.
"We can leave if you want to."
She took a slow breath.
"No." She was resolute. She'd had her PTSD under control for months, and one little jump at a loud noise didn't mean a full-blown attack anymore. "I'm good."
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, barely able to make out his features in the darkness.
"This is awesome, really."
She kissed his cheek, or at least she meant for it to be his cheek, but it sort of turned out to be his lips, and then a couple behind them cleared their throats when the two of them started to get carried away.
She couldn't help it if the dark, sexy theme and the period costumes got her a little turned on. And making out was better than freaking out about loud noises. She was sort of hoping he wanted to have their private costume party after this, since hers sort of went along with the Victorian thing….
She wasn't sure how much time had lapsed while they were inside, but the car was waiting when they stepped back out into the real world, pitching a bit, off balance at the stark change back to a blank sidewalk.
He had her by the hand, pulling her toward the car, grinning like the kid she knew lived just under his ruggedly handsome exterior.
They fell into the backseat, giggling and gushing about all they had seen, goose bumps rising again at the thought of some of the images and sounds.
When they settled down, leaning into each other, fingers intertwined, she noticed they weren't headed back to the loft.
"Where to now, cruise director?"
"I have a little spooky dinner planned, if you're game."
"After that? You bet I'm game for spooky."
They pulled up a few minutes later in front of what looked like an old carriage house, and he opened his door as he questioned her.
"Have you ever been here before?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Neither have I, but it comes highly recommended."
"Who, Patterson?"
"No, Stephen."
Of course he would take Halloween restaurant advice from the premiere author of horror in American fiction.
"One if by land, two if by sea. It's supposed to have fabulous food, and it's haunted. By an ex-Vice President."
Kate rolled her eyes as she followed him out onto the curb.
"Which one?"
"Aaron Burr. And his daughter, too."
"Mmm hmm. I'll believe it when I see it, Castle."
He turned back toward her looking dismayed.
"I thought you said you were game for spooky?"
"Doesn't mean I'm suddenly going to believe in the ghosts of the Burr family haunting a restaurant in Sheridan Square."
As he opened the door for her and she stepped across the threshold, she had to admit, the place had atmosphere. The multitude of candle-filled chandeliers, the exposed brick and warm wood walls, the ornate fish eye mirrors, all segued perfectly from their steampunk experience into a romantic dinner.
Castle gave their name to the host, who delivered them to the one booth in the room, rounded and red, toward the back. She slid in first, and when she stopped scooting, she found Rick plastered against her side. He slid his arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, lingering to exhale against her ear.
"I like your earrings."
She shivered, and not from lingering vestiges of fright from the haunted house.
Oh, she was going to fight fire with fire. The best bedroom voice was coming out to play.
"Thank you. There's this really hot guy at work who gave them to me. He's got great… taste."
He pinched her hip and nibbled on the shell of her ear.
"And what can I get for you two beautiful people to drink this lovely evenin'? I'm Maeve, by the way, and I'll be takin' care of you for the rest of the night."
Rick pulled away to look at their red-headed, green-eyed, Irish-accented server while Kate blushed scarlet. This was going to be quite a dinner.
Somehow, they managed to eat their delicious dinner, including the Valhronna chocolate soufflé that Maeve suggested and then Rick insisted they split. They might have also polished off a bottle of bubbly, while she wasn't looking.
As they were preparing to leave, Kate tugged her hair out from her wrap.
"Where's your earring?"
Rick's eyes were squinting quizzically at her.
"What?"
She reached for both ears and found that her left one was bare. Disappointment swamped her. How had she lost one already? She thought she'd put them on securely. Rick had seen them on her ears when they sat down…
Maeve was collecting the signed check from their table and must have overheard Rick's question. She chirped at them in her lilting Irish cadence, totally unperturbed and with eyes rolling as she passed them and headed for the register.
"Oh, that's just Theodosia. She's one of our ghosts."
She winked at Kate.
"Check your purse. She usually leaves them somewhere you'll find them when you get home. Just likes bedeviling the prettiest gals."
Kate unsnapped her clutch and dug to one corner, then to the other, and found something tucked deep in the lining. She pulled her hand out to see, and there was the earring, perfectly intact with the back firmly screwed into place.
Castle was grinning ear-to-ear at her as she put the earring back on.
"No ghosts, huh?"
A/N: So the Steampunk Haunted House is real, and this year it's going to be in the old Greenpoint Hospital. One if by land, two if by sea is also real, located in Aaron Burr's former carriage house, and supposedly haunted by Burr and his daughter, who likes to remove ladies' earrings. See my Tumblr page for a photo of what Asscher cut diamonds look like.
Twitter: kate_christie_ Tumblr: kathrynchristie(dot)tumblr(dot)com