Gates is pissed when they enter the precinct together.
Kate's wearing an oversized NYPD sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants Ryan had bought for her. Castle had offered to make the drive to the nearby convenience store while she had sat in the ambulance with a blanket wrapped tightly around her lower body – because of course they failed to have an extra pair of NYPD sweats on hand - he has her size memorized already and he had hoped to grab her some coffee as well, but she had grabbed his wrist when he'd risen from beside her, given him a pleading look he had never seen her wear before, and Ryan had stepped forward to volunteer.
"Detective Beckett, my office."
"Sir, would you mind if I changed-"
"Now."
Castle watches her fist clench at her side before she nods and strides into her captain's office with her head held high. Castle goes to follow, but Gates narrows her eyes at him and he redirects his path to his chair beside Beckett's desk.
She's in there for a long time, long enough for him to run out of paper clips to add to the foot long chain he's been working on all week, and when the door to Gate's office finally swings open, Kate doesn't make the detour to her desk, heads straight for the elevator, signaling for him to follow with a discrete flick of her eyes and tilt of her head.
"What happened?" he asks once they're enclosed in the lift together.
She huffs, crossing her arms and listing into the back wall of the elevator as the doors slide shut. "Thanks to me, she's instituting a new policy in our department. We're going to have to report our whereabouts at all times while on the job. If I had called in the exact location of where we were going beforehand, backup could have gotten to us quicker and prevented this whole situation."
"I don't know if I agree with the entirety of that," he murmurs, but she merely shrugs.
"Doesn't matter now anyway. So…" He glances up at her, sees the expectant quirk to her eyebrows, the nervous habit of her teeth stabbing into her bottom lip. "Are you still coming over?"
His insides flush with excitement. He had been afraid she might withdraw her request for him to join her tonight, to keep her warm, but she looks more sure, more ready, than he's ever seen her.
Castle takes a tentative step forward in the small space, brushing back the kinked curl of her still drying hair before the elevator doors can open up to the precinct's lobby. "Of course."
Kate drives them to her place, leads him up to her apartment with her brittle fingers loosely twined in his and he follows like a dazed fool, still feeling as though he's waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to change her mind, but once they're inside her home, she kisses him again. Her fingers curl around his neck and she rises on her toes to reach him, her entire body pressed warm and snug against his, and he can't ignore the sweetness of her mouth, the chapped lips that demand his attention.
It's drugging, a familiar taste that he's been craving for nearly a year. She even makes that same noise when he sucks on her bottom lip, that encouraging little moan that has him clutching her tighter.
She walks him backwards towards her bedroom, smiling against him even as the velvety heat of her tongue layers over his, makes him dizzy. She shivers when his hands slip under the cotton of her sweatshirt, splaying over her lower back, over the planes of her cold flesh. Still so cold.
"You're freezing," he murmurs.
She sighs, knocks her forehead into his as her fingers wind around the fabric of his dress shirt. "Probably will be for a while if memory serves."
He shudders at that, hates even thinking about their past experience with nearly freezing to death.
"Not this time," he decides, stroking his fingers over the knobs of her spine. "Keeping you warm, remember?"
She grins, the brightness of her smile combatting the cold that's seeped into his own skin, and his eyes flicker down as the buttons of his shirt slowly start coming apart for the second time that day.
"Thaw with me," she mumbles, nuzzling her nose against his and directing him past her bed, towards the open door of her en suite.
The water rises slowly, wisps of steam swirling atop the bath and stretching through the air, fogging up her mirror. Kate's fingers slip to the hem of her borrowed sweatshirt, inching it upwards and slipping it over her head. He reflexively looks away, but she catches him, fingers coming to his chin, palm cradling his jaw.
"Castle, you can look this time."
"Are you sure?" he croaks out, his voice strained from his faltering control, but he has to be positive. He's waited too long to screw this up now. "Because if you aren't ready, I can - I can wait, Kate. I told you I'd wait."
She doesn't respond right away and his stomach somersaults with worry, and then disappointment, because he can wait, he can, but god is he tired of waiting.
He considers making a retreat to the kitchen. He could make her some hot chocolate instead. They never specified how he would keep her warm, he could still-
Kate traps his face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs over the cool skin of his ears and forcing him to look at her.
"I want this," she promises, her eyes soft but so solemn as they hold this. "I know we talked about the wall and waiting, but god, Castle." He watches as she shakes her head, looking so tired in that moment, so tired of resisting him and the pull that's always existed between them, but then the fierce gold of her eyes darts up to meet his and the hint of exhaustion dissipates. Determination spills from her gaze, excitement lines the vibrant circles of her irises, and he believes her when she speaks the words, "I want you. And not just for tonight."
Her fingers graze over his belt and her eyebrows arch in question, but he nods, doesn't stop her from unhooking the buckle and pulling the leather from the loops of his pants. Those go next, followed by hers, and they're both in their underwear, staring at one another as steam billows and curls between them, licks at all of the exposed skin.
With her eyes still locked on his, Beckett draws one of her bra straps down and he watches, mesmerized at the roll of her shoulder, the inviting tilt of her neck to one side. His hand reaches forward to sweep her hair back at its own accord and his mouth soon follows, dusting along the bare expanse of flesh, following the hard ridge of her collarbone, allowing his tongue a taste of her skin – the combination of bitter ice and river water failing to mask the distinct flavor of her.
One of her hands is coiled around the front of his boxers, hooked in the waistband, but the other twists around her back, unclasps her bra. The lingerie falls at his feet and he lifts his head from her neck to see her, gloriously naked save for the pair of black underwear still clinging to her skin. But when his gaze lingers at the scar between her breasts, he feels the hesitation radiate from her, senses her hands rising to capture his face, but he leans forward before she can distract him, splays his hands over the cage of her ribs, and brushes his fingers over the surgical scar lining her left side while he presses his lips to the raised circle of flesh above her heart. Remembering the day a bullet pierced the wall of her chest and left her bleeding in his arms will always elicit a sharp ripple of devastation within him, but now, all he can see is proof of her survival, of her strength.
"Tub's almost full," she gasps, slipping her hands to his forearms and tugging gently.
Castle abandons her chest and allows her to draw him back towards the bath of heated water behind her. He sheds his boxers as soon as she shimmies the last piece of black satin from her body, but she pauses before she can step foot in the tub. Her eyes rove his figure for a long moment, long enough to make him feel a flare of self-consciousness, but she doesn't look as if she's judging him, she looks… in awe?
"You're beautiful," she whispers, taking a second to skim her hands along his bare sides, eliciting goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold.
"Isn't that my line?" he teases, but her eyes are wide, luminous and overwhelming as she stares up at him with the softest smile she's ever worn.
"You're beautiful to me, Castle," she murmurs, lifting on her toes to kiss him once more, painting his mouth with hope and promise and… and yeah, that's definitely love. She loves him and he loves her back whether she truly remembers or not.
He nudges her hips, reminds her of the filling bathtub and holds one of her hands for balance when her lithe leg rises to descend over the edge of the tub. She hisses when she finally dips a foot in the water, her fingers clenching around his while she grits her teeth through the burn, but then her face relaxes and she glances back at him expectantly. Castle steps in beside her, forces himself to breathe through the heat searing his skin, but just like hers, his body adjusts to the temperature within a few seconds and the burn proves a pleasant remedy to the chill of his flesh.
He sits down in the water first, rests his back against the curve of the tub and sighs at the engulfing heat. His brain has been moving at full speed ever since he'd pulled her out of the river, but now, everything slows, relaxes, finds peace. Until she sinks down atop him, her chest to his, her legs folding around him, everything aligned.
"Don't look so panicked," she chuckles, lifting one of her hands from the water to brush his hair back.
"Not panicked," he huffs, gliding his hands down her slick spine, feeling her body hum with pleasure against his. "Still a little dumbstruck," he admits.
Her cheek falls to rest at his chest, just above the wall of the rising water, and she wraps her arms around his submerged torso.
"Over this?" she asks, tracing her nails over his lower back.
"Mm, I just imagined us for so long. Feels surreal."
Her head rotates on his chest, her chin digging into the bones of his sternum as she looks up at him, so peaceful and serene but with an arched eyebrow. "What did you imagine?"
"Kate Beckett wants to hear my fantasies?" he gasps in astonishment and she rolls her eyes, but retracts her arms from his back, uses her hands to inch upwards in the tub, sending water shifting and splashing around the edges.
"No, Castle." Her eyes are dancing, a glimmering green with swirling hints of rich amber and traces of gold bleeding through. "I want to make them come true."
His eyes bulge and she laughs, even as she leans in to nudge her nose against his.
"Don't tease," he grumbles, squeezing at the sharp bones of her hips.
"I'm not teasing," she murmurs while one of her hands slithers downwards, grazing over his abdomen, descending farther until her fingers are curling around him. "Not teasing," she repeats, stroking him slowly, scorching him with her palm. "I'm warming us up."
