Jump 4
A/N: In case you missed it, there is an M-rated chapter up under "Jump Journal" to fit in before this one.
The insistent ray of sunlight warming her cheek and flaming her eyelids must have been what nudged her out of unconsciousness.
It certainly wasn't the soundly-sleeping man stretched out naked on his stomach beside her. He seemed perfectly happy to doze despite the sunshine and her current use of his lower body as a leg rest.
She pulled her arms down from where they had been curled above her head and rolled her shoulders to get the kinks out.
"Geez, careful with that, Beckett, you could burn out someone's retina."
She saw the splayed out pattern of rainbows hitting Castle's cheek as the sunlight reflected through the diamond on her finger, and a warmth that had nothing to do with visible light suffused her skin.
A smile spread slowly across her lips. Her offending left hand slid out of the sunbeam and into the space between his shoulder blades, rubbing circles to soothe him into wakefulness.
Her future husband hummed in appreciation.
She was going to marry this man.
This wonderful, infuriating, horrible tease of a man.
She rose up on an elbow and turned to face him. As she extracted her leg from where it had been draped over the curve of his hip, she gave his thigh a little kick and elicited a confused "ooph."
"Castle, you strung me along for two days. I was too shocked last night to call you on it at first, and then we were… otherwise occupied, but you totally deserve to be punished for dangling all those damned wooden boxes at me all weekend."
Summoning what appeared to be a monumental effort, his eyelids rose and revealed slightly unfocused sapphire eyes.
"You know, most women probably wouldn't kick and then yell at their fiancés for giving them a string of little jewelry boxes full of diamonds immediately prior to proposing."
Her eyebrow began a slow but steady climb toward her hairline.
"And so you would prefer to marry 'most women?'"
He pushed up to prop his head on his hand and glare at her.
"Nine in the morning is way too early for you to start picking on me. I was just trying to heighten the suspense—you know, a little diversion so you wouldn't be expecting it."
Her free hand came up between them and she poked at his nicely-toned chest with her index finger. She should not be distracted by his naked, yumminess. She had a point. Really. Oh yes.
"Our courtship is not a plot device, Writer-Boy."
She wasn't sure she fully suppressed her smirk beneath the Beckett glare. He seemed to be immune this morning, anyway, as he brought his own index finger up to hers, in mid-poke, and touched their tips together.
"Actually, I could tell you were getting vibes or juju or doing your mind-reading thing last week, and I needed to throw you off a little. I couldn't very well deliver a boring proposal at the feet of the most epic woman in the universe."
His digits insinuated between hers and he squeezed them slightly, maybe testing how his favorite hand grip felt with the band in the way. She studied the image, how they fit, slender and long tucked in with wide and muscular.
It was such a beautiful ring. She was not this girlie, but she couldn't help the pang of unadulterated joy that welled up at the sight of his ring on her finger.
But focus, Beckett. You were supposed to be calling him out. Exuding annoyance. Deploying punishment.
"Think the compliments are going to soften me up?"
She had some really creative ideas all of a sudden about punishment.
"Kinda hoping so…"
Oh, who the hell was she kidding?
She used their intertwined hands to shove him back on the bed and pinned him to the mattress, evil grin hovering just out of reach of his lips.
"Or feel free to punish me. I can do that, too."
He rose up and met her lips fiercely, moaned into her mouth as their tongues tangled. She laid her free hand flat against his sternum and pushed him back down onto the bed, lost contact with his lips, moved hers to his neck.
"Think I'm gonna like this punishment."
She nipped at the skin below his ear.
Despite her attempts at distraction, he pulled back slightly and bubbled up with that enthusiasm only he could convey while being actively seduced.
"Oh, do we get to use the handcuffs again?"
"Talk less, kiss more, Castle."
# # #
An hour later, once they made it out of the shower and into actual clothes, they found Martha rummaging in the kitchen.
"Oh, good, you're both up. I was actually contemplating the possibility of cooking breakfast myself, but now I see I can—"
She stopped in mid-sentence when Kate sat on one of the counter stools and reached for a piece of fruit with her left hand.
She had been expecting an exclamation, maybe some clapping, even a little jig from the actress. Martha had done as much every time Kate walked in the door when she and Rick had first started dating.
Nothing had prepared her for the woman's actual reaction.
Martha's eyes stayed riveted to the ring for a silent beat, and then filled with tears.
She set the glass and bottle of orange juice down and pressed the fingers of one hand against her lips, then took a deep breath. She blinked hard, smiled behind her hand and started around the island.
Rick was standing stock still behind Kate's chair, seemingly as shocked as his fiancé at his mother's reaction.
She reached an arm around each of their shoulders and pulled them in tight, kissed Kate on the top of her head, then eased back and looked up at her son. One tear had escaped and was making its way down her un-painted cheek.
"You done good, kiddo."
A little watery, but overall, very Martha.
"Thank you, Mother."
She narrowed her eyes at her son.
"How you managed to trick such a brilliant, insightful, debonair beauty into marrying you I will never understand, but you did, and that's a cause for celebration in the Castle-Rogers clan!"
She turned back to Kate, her usual twinkle back in full force.
"Welcome to the family, dear. Now we need some champagne!"
Releasing them both, Martha stepped toward the wine room.
"Actually, Mother, we had some last night, and maybe we should save the next round to share with the rest of the family."
"Fine, fine. Shall we have them all for dinner?"
"That's a great idea. At least Alexis and Jim and Dora. Unless you want Lanie and the boys?"
Martha adjusted her path and aimed toward the fridge, where she retrieved orange juice, poured three glasses, passed them around. Rick turned to hand one to Kate.
"Maybe not tonight."
They did have phone calls to make. His daughter ought to be the first. She hoped Alexis wouldn't have any reservations.
She and Castle's daughter had been remarkably close since Kate had moved in, even after the redhead had moved out to her dorm at Columbia. She kept her internship a few evenings a week with Lanie, and Alexis had begun to look for Kate before she went home, just to say hello, maybe have a coffee. They had talked a lot about being only daughters going away to college.
But this was different. This was a permanent change in her dad's life, and Kate wasn't sure how the young woman would react to the idea of sharing her father on a forever scale. Her blessing was something Kate knew she needed, probably more so than Rick. She wasn't sure why the thought of telling her about all of this made her stomach flutter, but it did.
"We should call Alexis first."
Rick looked at her then, took her hand, stroked his thumb against the sensitive skin at her wrist. Nerves were flickering behind his eyes when he spoke.
"Not necessary." The way he pressed his lips together seemed apologetic, almost.
"She's the only one I told about any of it. I hope that's okay with you, that I told someone. She heard the plan—told me you probably wouldn't kill me, even if you wanted to at first."
Kate let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. His daughter not only knew, but she'd even helped him plot. There wasn't a reason to hold in the smile that bloomed with her relief.
"Good thing she was right," she kicked his shin lightly with her bare toes. "But I should probably call her and tell her I said 'yes,' and you can reassure her that you survived."
Martha piped up from behind her orange juice.
"Good thought, dear, she's probably been wringing her hands all night, thinking he'd screw it up somehow."
"Such faith you have in me, Mother."
"No, Martha, he did everything just right, for once."
"I was about to say how sweet that was of you to say. And then you corrected me."
She stood and reached up to kiss him lightly on the lips, smiling into his mouth.
"It was perfect."
"Okay, lovebirds, can we work on some perfect breakfast?"
# # #
Kate was picking up newspapers from their lazy morning, re-stacking magazines and stashing remotes in preparation for their guests, but the sound of the key in the door drew her attention.
When the flash of red hair appeared in the doorway, she headed straight for Kate and pulled her into a tight hug.
"I'm so happy for you."
Kate had become accustomed to hugs like these after several months of spending time with this family.
Her family, now. Wow. That was an idea to spend some time with in the near future.
But for the moment, she just squeezed right back.
"Thank you." She whispered into her ear, "And thank you for helping him."
Alexis drew back slightly, seemed surprised at Kate's gratitude.
"Of course I helped. He was a wreck, and he wanted it to be perfect." She was exuding indulgent-but-protective daughterly duty. "He had it all planned out, but he was too nervous to see it objectively anymore."
Wow, he hadn't seemed nervous last night. Maybe when he was giving her the earrings, or even the necklace, but when he actually proposed, he'd seemed confident.
"He didn't have anything to be nervous about."
"I tried to tell him that; I knew what your answer was going to be."
Really? How had Alexis known when even she hadn't been sure up until that very day? No reason to let the girl in on Kate's insecurities.
"And you were right."
Alexis stepped back to reach for Kate's left hand, tilting it to see the ring from different angles, then met Kate's eyes again with a teasing smile.
"He cried, didn't he?"
Kate smiled back.
"They were manly tears."
"Are you telling tales to my daughter, Detective?"
Rick came out of the office to kiss Alexis' cheek, then Kate's, before heading for the kitchen.
"I'm just telling the truth."
Kate's gaze followed him as he started assembling ingredients for dinner.
"Not sure how you could see me crying through all those tears of yours…"
She supposed it was only fair for him to rat her out, since she'd done it to him. She hoped her tone conveyed humor rather than humiliation.
"Touché."
Alexis' eyebrows rose in shock.
"You cried, Kate? I mean… I just wouldn't have pictured you as someone who would…"
"Show that much emotion?" She finished.
Alexis demurred, looking slightly embarrassed for having asked. Despite her lingering self-consciousness, Kate wanted her to know how much her dad's words and actions had meant.
"No, you're right. I'm not. But your dad took me by surprise. I wasn't prepared, and things kind of overflowed."
Something like relief flickered over the young woman's expression, followed rapidly by gratification.
"I'm glad he did it right."
# # #
Promptly at six, her father and Dora arrived with pecan pie, which Rick had snagged appreciatively as he shook Jim's hand. A look passed between the men that she would have to ask about later.
"I baked it; he just tried to sneak pecans." Dora jerked a thumb in Jim's direction as Martha took her coat.
Jim and Dora had been spending time together lately. That was all Kate could get out of her father, and Dora had said in her liltingly polite but evasive Texan, they occasionally had "a nice evenin' among friends."
Once Dora had offloaded her pie and set aside her handbag, she zeroed in on Kate and her left hand.
"Katie, where is ring? Show me, quick! I almost drove over here with my hair still in rollers, without a lick of make-up on the minute after you hung up the phone! But then I realized wouldn't have been able to make you my momma's Million Dollar Pecan Pie."
She reached for Kate's hand before she even gave her a hug, and for Dora, skipping a hug meant serious business.
"Oh, my Lord. That rock would give the Lone Star on our flag a run for its money! Billy Bob's could hang it over the dance floor instead of the disco saddle."
Releasing Kate's hand to wrap her in a hug, she tucked in close to whisper in her ear.
"I just knew he was it, Katie-girl."
Rick interrupted their moment as if he had just processed Dora's earlier exclamation.
"There's a bar with a disco saddle?"
Dora released her and turned to the rest of the group, slowly making their way toward the kitchen.
"Oh, now, don't you insult Billy Bob's by calling it a bar—no offense to your little place, Rick. But it's the world's largest Honky Tonk, and anyone who's anyone in country music has played there. I'm sure I've mentioned it before."
Her hand settled on Rick's biceps congenially.
"Oh, you have, but without the crucial detail of the disco saddle…"
"Well, now, why would they hang up a plain old disco ball in Billy Bob's? They have live bull riding!"
Alexis immediately squashed Rick's look of glee with her "don't even think about it" glare.
Jim caught up to Kate and hugged her from behind, held her back from following the group.
"You're happy." It wasn't a question. "I haven't seen you this happy since… I may not ever have seen you this happy." He released his hold on her and she turned to face him. "Katie, you're glowing with it."
"I am not." Though she looked at the floor, she couldn't hold back the smile.
"You are. And I'm glad. He had lunch with me over the summer, you know. Gave me the chance to be the intimidating father. Don't think I was, though. Mostly I just told him to hurry up and ask."
"Wait, he talked to you about this?"
She wasn't sure if she should feel completely insulted by the 1950's paternalism, or touched at the fact that he thought enough of her one remaining parent to want to bare his soul to him. After all, she'd done the same with Alexis when they had started dating.
"Well, not exactly about the specifics. He didn't even have the ring." He reached for her hand and held it up closer to have a look.
"And wow, what a ring, Katie. But he called and asked if I'd meet him and I read between the lines. I pinned him on it before he had a chance to do anything as archaic as ask my permission."
Of course not, this was Rick. He just wanted her dad to know where he was.
"Speaking of happy, how are you and Dora?"
He placed his hand at her elbow and walked her out to the kitchen just in time to hear the woman in question's declaration.
"Any time y'all want to see Texas, I'll give you the grand tour."
Wide-eyed delight met her when she looked at her future husband.
"When can we go, Kate?"
"I think we have some other things to plan before we plan a trip to Texas."
That sounded a little to parental for her own ears.
"Speakin' of plans, when exactly is the big day?"
"Soon."
"Not for a while."
They had spoken simultaneously, and now their eyes snapped together. Kate spoke after a slightly tense silence.
"We haven't really discussed it yet, actually."
"Obviously!" her father laughed.
"Y'all have plenty of time for that. Just tell me when you're comin' over for your wedding lingerie. I assume you'll be bringing Lanie and maybe a few other friends? And don't even think about it, Rick. No boys allowed."
The gentleman in question stuck out a very pouty lower lip while Alexis blushed furiously as she pulled the bread from the oven.
Kate wasn't sure what to say to Dora. It sounded like a good idea, wedding lingerie. People had whole bridal showers of lingerie. But she didn't think she was really the bridal shower type… But maybe Lanie, she'd been shopping with her at Dora's once. Maddie was a different story. She wasn't sure she could keep in control of a lingerie trip that put Maddie, Lanie and Dora in one room… As Dora was not one to take no for an answer, she settled for deferment.
"I'll let you know."
They truly stuffed themselves on chicken cacciatore and still managed to polish off most of Dora's pie. In the end, Dora, Jim and Martha forced Rick and Kate to sit and digest while they did dish duty. Alexis left right after pie, to get back to school to study for an early test.
As had become their routine, each took an end of the couch with their feet pressed against the other's hipbone on the opposite end. The kitchen crew was seemingly ignoring them, cutting up about political commentary from the Times that morning.
Kate and Rick's vastly different answers to the question of when they would be getting married were weighing on her. She had no problem committing to this man for the rest of her life, but she wasn't sure she was ready to walk down the aisle next weekend. Long engagements gave you time to get used to the idea of being married.
His hand gripped the arch of her foot and his thumb started working out knots and kinks. Her moan was thankfully quiet enough not to draw the attention of their parents.
"Oh, you're in trouble now. I'm not going to let you stop until we go to bed."
"Think we could get away with going to bed now?"
There was an amorous glint in his eye, but she knew he wasn't serious. Though she kind of wished they could…
"Nope. They're doing our dishes. We have to stay awake at least until they're done."
"Oh, I had no intention of going to sleep any time soon…"
"These walls are thick, but not that thick, Castle. No having sex while both of our parents are in the next room."
"Damn. Well, then why don't we talk about why you keep staring off into space."
The glare she gave him didn't seem to dissuade his line of questioning.
"It's not dreamy, I-just-got-engaged-to-the-love-of-my-life sort of staring, either, which is why I'm asking."
Fine, he had her. She couldn't escape physically without stopping the foot massage. He was good. Really good. And sneaky.
"Do you really want to get married right away?"
"Ah. I thought that might be it."
He grabbed her other foot with his other hand and double-teamed her insteps, then looked down seeming to concentrate on the pressing and swirling of his fingers. When he spoke, his voice was low, solemn.
"I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. When we start being married is much less important to me than that we continue being married."
He met her eyes, and she could see fathoms, leagues past this moment sitting on their couch.
"Forever."
And that word echoed in the silence between them. He meant it. He might have said it blithely to others before, but she knew him, knew what he'd become since he met her, and he was not saying this without weight and purpose and truth digging deep underneath it.
"However long you need to get used to that idea, I can wait. I'd rather not have gray hair at the wedding, but other than that…"
She'd been telling herself that her parents were her example. They had meant "forever" when they promised it to one another, but they never got the chance. He continued despite her mental wanderings.
"Now what would I prefer if you didn't care? I'd say as soon as we could get everyone we care about together in one place, let's go for it. We love each other. We know we can live with each other. We know how to fight and still forgive each other."
She used to think her parents' example had taught her she was better off not finding her one in seven billion, so she would never have to face the world alone if she then lost that kind of love. But with Rick, her psyche had shifted—subtly, so she'd hardly noticed, but a shift nonetheless. Now it didn't seem worthwhile to face the world without that kind of love in the first place.
Rick had grown silent, staring toward the kitchen with a tiny curl to the corner of his mouth, letting their parents' conversation filter through. Her father was laughing at something Dora had said. If Jim Beckett could learn to live in the moment, love again, what was she waiting for? Carpe diem.
"I think I could see us getting married sooner rather than later."
His eyes snapped back to hers, excitement and disbelief warring behind the bright blue. His hands stilled, moved to grip her ankles and pull her feet across into his lap, then began stroking up gently to sneak underneath the hem of her jeans. A wary optimism settled over his features, which was echoed in his tone.
"Sooner, meaning winter of 2014 instead of spring of 2015?"
She let the fear ease out of her, the anticipation flow in with her breath.
"How about next spring?"
"Really? Like 2013? Hey, how about January third! One-three-one-three!"
Oh, good grief. She walked right into this one. Well, she'd play along.
"Only if it's a Friday, Castle…"
He had his phone out of his pocket in a flash.
"Damn, Friday is the fourth. And the only Friday the thirteenth next year is in September. Nine-thirteen-thirteen doesn't have the same ring."
Silence had settled over the kitchen crew, and she snuck a glance back over her shoulder, only to find them all sidling inconspicuously over toward the living room, trying not to look like they were snooping.
"There's always three-one-one-three."
Her dad stepped up behind her and squeezed her shoulders.
So this had somehow turned into a family discussion.
"I like a palindrome—not bad, Jim. It's a Friday, though. There's a Saturday the thirteenth in April and July."
Dora leaned a hip on the back of the sofa near Rick's end and drawled her two cents.
"That seven would balance out your thirteens in July."
Another squeeze from her dad.
"Seven was your mom's lucky number, Katie."
She remembered that. Though she didn't believe in lucky numbers, her mom swore she had always won if she tried a case on the seventh of the month.
Martha circled and sat on the arm of a chair with a flourish.
"And I always thought of thirteen as mine…"
A family decision—her heart clenched a bit remembering what this felt like. Maybe it didn't have to stay a memory.
"I like it." Kate shocked herself with the ease of her declaration. "But we can't decide without Alexis."
Rick held up his phone, beaming unabashedly, to show her two texts.
"Daughter, how do you feel about the numbers 7/13/13?"
"Best. Wedding date. Ever."
A/N: Thanks for hanging in there between updates. I'm so grateful for the reviews and favorites and alerts. I'll keep going as long as y'all are interested!
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