A co-authored story by chezchuckles, jstar1382 and griever11
This box is heavy.
Castle's fingers are straining along the bottom and he huffs, shifting so he can get a better grip on it. He leans against Beckett's front door, propping it open so at least it takes the weight off his already aching back.
"Keep the door open!" Beckett's voice rings out from inside the apartment. She emerges, a large duffel bag slung across her torso and another heavy looking box marked 'Kitchen' in her hands.
"Hey, give me that bag," Castle says, even though he knows his back won't appreciate the added weight.
"I'm fine, Castle, but you're sweet," she murmurs as she walks towards him. Her lips brush over the skin of his cheek as she goes by, hip checking him. "This is the last of it. We're done."
He groans in relief, pushing off the door. "You have so much stuff," he whines. His arms ache and his knee – well. Safe to say they're not getting creative in bed any time soon.
Beckett narrows her eyes at him. "Me, so much stuff? Excuse me, mister five lightsabers and fifty remote controlled helicopters."
"Okay, that's fair," he concedes, laughing. "You sure you have everything?"
"Yeah, this is it." Her face alters, eyes sweeping away from him. "I'm actually going to miss this place."
They both turn to face her now empty apartment. It's taken almost two weeks and more than a few trips back and forth, but they've finally managed to get everything packed up and moved into his loft.
Her shoulder bumps his and Beckett sighs, wistful and just a little sad. "Lots of good things happened here," she says.
A memory flashes in the back of his mind. "Like the time your dad almost-"
"No, definitely not that," she chuckles. She looks up at him - up, because all her heels are now neatly arranged in the shoe closet in his loft and she's only in her Converses today - and she grins. "But um, that first dinner we had with Dad? Yeah. You were so nervous, and you wore a tie. You were cute."
Castle wrinkles his nose. "I wanted him to like me," he mumbles.
"He already liked you, babe. Come on."
His brain is still catching up to her statement – Jim already liked him? What? – when he realizes Beckett has walked out the door. He blinks, takes one last look at the vast blank space that used to be his girlfriend's home, and then he starts after her.
The door slams shut behind him and it's the profound symbolism about the end of an era. And it's not just his melodrama talking. It's the end of them living separately. It's the end of waking up at night missing her, an end to not having her around to discuss a case or book idea, an end to his place or hers, an end to logistics and nosy neighbors and hoping she's not lonely when she goes to bed alone.
He smiles and he bounces on his heels, excitement blossoming in his heart like a budding flower in spring.
And that is melodrama, and he's good with that.
When he catches up to Beckett at the end of her hallway, she's wrestling with the fire escape door, not quite managing with her hands full.
"Didn't they fix the elevator last week?" he asks, nodding at the shiny double doors across the hallway. "Let's take the elevator, I'm too tired for the stairs."
Beckett looks at him pointedly, eyebrows arched, lips pursed. He gets it. He really does. The elevator doesn't have the best track record, breaking at least three times a month. It's the reason they usually take the stairs when they stay at her place.
But right now he's exhausted and nostalgic and the elevator... the elevator holds a special place in his heart. He grins at her. "For old time's sake. Come on, Beckett."
He sees the moment she gives in, her shoulders relaxing as she backs away from the fire-escape door. She grunts her acceptance, heaving the box against her chest and making her way to the elevator.
Castle catches up, and then struggles with the call button for a moment. He manages to get it to light up only after some effort, jabbing repeatedly. But she's silent by his side, and their shoulders bump as they wait for the car.
"Good things happened here too," he says, echoing her sentiment from earlier.
Beckett's eyes slide to his, amused. Her lips curl in a smile. "Yeah, I'd say so. Didn't even need an emergency stop button."
"Kinda started this whole thing, didn't it? Us."
A blush colors her cheeks. "You mean when you groped me and gave the boys a free show?"
"Yeah, well you weren't complaining." He rakes his gaze down her body, being obvious about it.
The elevator dings. Beckett rolls her eyes at him as she walks into the newly refurbished car. "You're impossible."
He follows her in, presses the button and watches as the doors slide shut. It rumbles, groaning as it begins its descent.
"It's just like our first time," Castle quips, nudging her shoe with his own. He laughs at her disgruntled face. "Pre-first time at least. Same sounds, same groaning. And I'm not talking about you. Maybe–"
"Don't say it, Castle, I'm begging you."
"Okay, but really, wouldn't it be funny if–"
A metallic shriek echoes around them. The car jerks, shudders to a stop. It's violent enough that the boxes fall out their hands, crashing to the ground.
Then the lights go out.
"Castle, I am going to kill you."
(END)
Chezchuckles: I adore tropes and it's even better breaking them with these two fantastic women.
Griever11: This was a wonderful experience. Thanks for the many laughs, ladies!
Jstar1382: I love you two dorks. It was so fun and I can't wait to do it again.