A/N: I'm so, so sorry that this took so long to update. I'm trash. I always convince myself that summer's my best time to write, but, yeah, no. It's not. It's my worst time, actually. I'm sure why.
But whatever, you guys aren't interested in my whining. You're here for Kate and Savvy, and so Kate and Savvy I will give you.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Is this even necessary at this point?
"You have my permission, you know," is how Savvy starts the conversation, sprawled on her bed, dusk shadows playing on both women's features.
Yesterday, she met Kate's dad. Jim Beckett. And he casually mentioned his daughter meeting Savvy's parents, and she's . . . been thinking. Intensely. Considering. Weighing options, and this is the best one, without a doubt.
Kate's hovering above her, watches with eyes like stars, the most beautiful woman she's ever seen wearing the most endearingly perplexed expression. "Permission?"
"To ask about my parents."
"Sav, I . . . I don't want to feel obligated to tell me anything you don't want to," she says, almost a murmur, fingers tucking a few flyaway blonde locks behind Savvy's ear. She must see it though, how genuine Savvy's being, how willing she is, and how ready.
"I know I have a tendency to say shit I seriously regret later, but I want you to know. Cross my heart and hope to keep having mind-blowing sex with you."
Kate rolls her eyes, but when she speaks, her her voice is all gentleness and soft edges. "Okay, Savvy. Tell me about your parents."
She's told past girlfriends, told close friends, but that was after Kate. She didn't have the strength or confidence to talk about her childhood back then, not until she was twenty-five and encouraged by her buddy Evie, who's also an abuse survivor.
Usually, when she tells the story, there's a bundle of nervousness bouncing around her stomach, squeezing her insides, making her want to throw up as she stammered and stumbled over the words, but with Kate - with Kate it's like talking about what she had for lunch, or her latest case. Easy.
"My dad was an asshole." Venom's in her tone now, and grows as she continues. The way he acted still disgusts her, angers her. "When he was sober, he yelled a lot, and generally acted like a spoiled brat who thought his wife and daughters were his own personal servants. Treated us like fucking dirt, but he didn't," she pauses, and the malice dissipates just slightly, timidness creeping in, "he didn't get physical until he was drunk. Liked to use his lit cigarettes to punish us."
"The scars on your arms. And your back." The homicide detective wears a look of realization and horror.
"Yeah, that was . . . not from my friends ," she admits, laughing a small, bitter laugh, but Kate remains solemn as ever. Detective Beckett. They both remember the night Savvy rolled up her sleeves and revealed the tiny circular marks, lying about where they came from. Me and my dumbass buddies thought we were being edgy. "I was ten, not sixteen. One night, my dad was going on this . . . rampage. Burned me and my twin sister a bunch of times, broke my mom's nose. And I . . . I was so angry, and I . . . knew where he kept his gun.
"Did you . . .?"
"Kill him?" Savvy picks idly at a loose thread on the sheets. "No. I mean, I wanted to, but I was only ten. I couldn't. He did leave after he was released from the hospital, though. He didn't press charges or anything, thank God, he just . . . disappeared. I don't know where he went, and I don't care."
On the last few words, her voice is hard, as are her eyes. Kate's wearing a more compassionate, less alarmed expression, though blessedly not pitying, as other people's have been. Pity gets on Savvy's nerves.
"And why don't you talk to your mom?" Kate asks carefully.
Ah, yes. The second half of Savvy's DNA.
(That's all Patricia Grant is to her younger daughter now. Thanks for the chromosomes, Ma, you didn't positively contribute anything else to my life besides that and not throwing me out on my ass when I came out as gay.
Okay, maybe that's cruel, maybe she's over-exaggerating. But Savvy's sure she's entitled to at the very least some harshness after her whole childhood in general.)
"She just - let the abuse happen, y'know? She tried to stop it. I mean, I know she lo - cared about me and my sister, but she never called the police. Not even once. I left the day I turned eighteen."
Savannah shrugs nonchalantly into the darkness, and, for a moment, the world is enormously still. Outside, beneath them, the city rumbles the way cities do, but it's background noise, so distant and removed from the bedroom that there's something extremely comforting about it.
A quiet moment passes, and then Kate murmurs, "And now you're here."
"That's one hell of a leap, detective," Savvy tries to tease, but it's flimsy, shallow. She goes for sincerity instead, softening her tone, half-smiling tenderly. "I'm so glad to be here."
They drift closer and Savvy's forehead touches Kate's, who kisses the blonde's nose. Savvy laughs.
"Katherine Beckett, you huge softy!"
"Only for you, Savannah."
The subject doesn't come up again; why would it? But there's a warmth wrapped around her heart, around the ventricles and the arteries, and touches the inside-facing bit of her ribs. It's a warmth that comes from contentment, and it's amazing.
It takes a few days to figure out why exactly it's there. Post backstory reveal, she normally just feels relieved to have gotten her past out of the way, not like smiling like a lovey-dovey idiot all the time.
Before, when they were young, communication wasn't always the strongest between them. Kate hid her grief and brokenness away, pretended it didn't exist until it overflowed and she lashed out at whoever was around, be it Savvy, be it Jim, be it one of their friends. It was quite an indiscriminate explosion of emotion, and hurt every time. Savvy took the brunt of it for the most part, and that didn't exactly inspire her to talk about the absolute darkest time of her life, the first decade of it.
And now it's different. They're grown ups (for the most part) and they've grown, just enough the same people to still click the way used to, just different enough people to not be so dysfunctional. They're better. They have the relationship they longed for as college kids; Kate and Savvy 2.0, new and improved.
Savvy's walking on air.
"Do you like ice cream sundaes?"
(This question comes from out of nowhere.)
Savvy gives Kate a funny look from the counter. Not at the counter, but sitting on top of it. "There are people who don't?"
"There's probably somebody somewhere who - "
"Okay, okay, Amelia Bedelia," Savvy interrupts, feigning exasperation. She's smiling, because (even though neither of them have spoken it aloud yet) she loves this woman.
Kate raises an eyebrow.
"You never read those books when you were a kid?"
"I actually didn't really enjoy reading until middle school, so no."
"You're such an killjoy." Savvy shakes her head disappointment, again just pretending, suppressing a grin. "I think that's a deal-breaker."
Kate steps closer, her body between Savvy's legs, hands braced behind the blonde's hips as Kate forward. "Deal-breaker, huh?" she asks, her voice low.
Savvy's lips meet hers hungrily, hands cupping her cheeks.
"Maybe," Savvy says between kisses, "not," and starts to tug Kate's shirt off. Kate, however, pulls back, grinning.
"Sav. Ice cream sundaes."
"Wh - oh. Katherine Beckett, you are kinky, aren't you?"
Kate shrugs, eyes sparkling the way they do. "You complaining?"
"Absolutely not."
In New York, September, though summer for the first twenty or so days, is not the hottest month. But it's hot. The solution: drinking and playing strip poker. Savvy consumed much more alcohol than her girlfriend, meaning she's now much more drunk. They end the game with Savvy wearing a tank top with nothing underneath and underwear and Kate wearing just a bra and underwear - Savvy, a hyper drunk, got bored.
She sets up her iPod on Kate's speakers and some upbeat song the detective doesn't seem to recognize (sadly, in Sav's opinion) starts playing. Savvy sings along loudly and dances across the living room floor, arms up and flowing with the rhythm, hips swaying.
She only pauses when hears Kate laughing, and grabs her wrists, tugging her off the couch.
"Sav, I, - "
Savvy covers Kate's mouth her hand. "Shhh, babe, shhh. No more talking. Just dancing."
And so that's what they do. The world's spinny and Kate looks weird, but she's laughing and sweating and simply enjoying the moment with her beautiful, amazing, wonderful, fantastic girlfriend.
A/N: Leave a review so I know you don't hate my guts / have abandoned this fic? Can I trap you into saying that Castle's entering the story next chapter (probably - Ellie.1 said she wanted to, but that was months ago, so take it up with her - but, y'know, probably)?
Maybe. Possibly. I don't know. I still feel ridiculously bad for the lack of an update. I'm so, so sorry to those who love this fic (*coughs* Amy) and have been patiently waiting. I love y'all.
- Ellie