15 March, 2014
xxx
"This a night, like none before
I knew it when you opened up the door
With a look to paint the sky
Let me read between the lines in your eyes
Tonight
It's the event we dreamed about
Where we whispered all the words they're shouting out"
xxx
He's been relegated to the spare room as she changes in their bedroom. He's impatient and a little nervous. Too much riding on one Saturday Night. He fixes his shirt a couple of times, fidgets with his cufflinks, and straightens his tie. Finally he's all set. He grabs his coat and rushes to find himself face to face with the closed bedroom door.
"Beckett!" he yells. "Come on out already. We're getting late."
He hears her muffled reply. "What's the hurry? It's not even seven. Whaddaya wanna do? Sweep the place?!"
"I told you it's an early reservation. Hurry up. It'll be worth it, I promise you!"
"Okay, Okay. Give me two minutes."
She's putting the finishing touches on her make up for the hundredth time. She wants to look perfect. She glances at the end result of an hour of trial in the mirror. It's as close to perfect as she can possibly manage. She's ready. They're really doing this.
He paces two steps, back and forth, patrolling in front of the door that stubbornly refuses to budge until finally, it swings open.
She steps out in a strapless elegant dark purple dress. It's taut at the top and flares as it cascades downwards, trailing a bit behind her when she walks. It shows just enough cleavage, makes the dark mysterious green in her eyes bolder, accentuates her hip and shows off a sinful slit unto her thigh that makes her legs seemingly stretch to infinity. She's wearing her most trusted pair of heels. They make her seem towering. Her hair is done up neatly into a bun. She twiddles her fingers around the delicate wisps that manage to free themselves from the coiffure. She's wearing her mother's brooch, the small silver pin that adorns her chest matching perfectly with the silver bracelet on her wrist, in place of the watch that he's so accustomed to see. Her earrings, slightly dangling, peek from in between a few strands of her golden-brown locks.
The way she looks renders him senseless. She lifts her gaze to look into his vibrant blue eyes. The sea green shirt that he wears makes them twinkle and she melts a little. A handkerchief is neatly folded and fitted into his chest pocket. He looks like a perfect gentleman. She steps closer; he's still not speaking, just breathing it all in. She recognizes his intoxicating, enticing cologne that radiates from him. He's clean shaven. She can still smell the after shave. Too Bad. She loves the stubble. She fixes his blue and grey tie, not that it needs to be adjusted. She just loves that she has the power to do it. She's never seen it on him before. Oh and his perfectly fitted jacket.
"Looks like you went shopping Castle. You look wow….incredible."
"You look…." Damn it. He still can't figure out what to say. Is he still staring? Say something, anything. Great way to start off a date, Rick. He finally jumps the hurdle. "….mesmerizing." She blushes.
Realizing that the staring would go on for much longer if she doesn't intervene, she speaks, "Let me just get my coat, Castle. We can leave then."
And then he finally discovers speech. "Hold on, let me get that for you."
He disappears off somewhere and returns with her coat. "M'lady," he says reverently as he drapes it on her bare shoulders.
"Shush Castle. Don't be so charming. We'll never leave."
xxx
"She was the purest beauty but not the common kind
She had a way about her that made you feel alive
And for a moment
We made the world stand still
Yeah, we owned the night"
xxx
"Let's take the Ferrari,' he suggests. "I won't be drinking too much tonight and just in case it's required, we can call a cab."
"Only if you drive."
"You're letting me drive?" he sounds surprised. He has good reason to be.
"Even if you aren't planning on drinking tonight, I am." She winks at him.
The Ferrari grunts to life, its engine raw and muscular, powering through the streets. She can't contain her excitement any longer. She has to ask him. "So where are you taking me?"
"It's a new place called 'Elixir'. You heard of it?"
"No. But it sounds very…expensive."
"It is. Some brilliant genius converted a Gothic mansion into a restaurant. But since they just opened two weeks ago, they're still giving opening discounts. You just wait and see what I have planned for you."
"Sweet."
"Oh it's Italian food, by the way. That isn't a problem, is it? I know Chinese is your favorite but Kate, you should see this place. It is so am-"
"Oh no no Castle. I like Italian food too. And I need a break from all the takeout we keep eating."
Before she knows it, they're there. He's handing over to the keys to the valet and holding out his elbow to lead her into the dining wonderland that awaits them.
"Voila!"
She can tell the place is new. It's not that crowded for a Saturday evening. Or maybe they're just too early. The whole place is like a marble palace, with mammoth steps leading into the hallway. The edifice is lit up like a tree at Christmas. When they enter inside to give their reservation details, an usher discreetly deposits their coats in a cloak room and returns to guide them further into the depths of this marble palais royale.
If the massive entrance arch wasn't spectacular enough, the atmosphere within was designed to make a lasting impression. Tables lined up, covered with fine linen, intimate booths at the corners, shiny smooth tiles, wonderfully aesthetic silken upholstery, light colors-a cream yellow somewhere, a lilac, a pistachio green some other place. The walls feature replicas of famous paintings. She identifies some of them as she pauses to admire her favorites- a Van Gogh once or twice, a particularly of famous paintings. She identifies some of them as she pauses to admire the masterpieces- a Van Gogh once or twice, a particularly beloved Picasso. She regales him with a story or two about the paintings and Castle is taken aback by her profound knowledge.
The tables are sparsely occupied by a few families, all of whom turn their heads to see Rick and Kate as they head up a flight of stairs ushered by a waiter dressed in an immaculate uniform. The floor above is even more wondrous than the one below. For one, it's larger. The tables are more spaced out, soft strains of a piano melody waft through the perfumed air to their ears.
"Wow. This place is even better in actuality than the pictures I saw online,' he marvels. She has to agree. Expensive or not, she's going to drag him back here sooner or later. It's too beautiful for a single visit.
They navigate through the maze of tables, Kate's excitement growing with every step. He's still not letting on what tricks he has stuffed up his sleeve. He's only mentioned vague and cryptic things in passing like 'working up an appetite to consume amazing hors d'oeuvres with the vengeance of a pack of hungry wolves.' Out of nowhere, a corridor emerges as they approach two formidable wooden doors with shining golden handles. The doors are huge, towering eight feet above them, the medieval architecture a pleasant respite from the bluntness and perpendicularity of the structures that they see every day.
Their usher pushes open the door, it creaks open and she steps in first even though she has no idea what she's stepping into. The tip of her stiletto strikes wood surface as her eyes capture her surroundings in amazement. Almost instantly, she's hit by the dazzling brilliance of the magnificent chandelier in the center of the ceiling, sparkling over a spacious wooden floored arena. She registers the quickening pace of her heart, turns around to see him grinning at her with wild glee as she realizes where she is. It's a good old-fashioned ballroom!
xxx
A/n: Merry christmas