Chapter Fourteen

When Beckett woke, she didn't open her eyes at first. She lay in the darkness of her eyelids for a long moment as she tried to replay and remember the previous night with some kind of rational distance. As she recalled the complete emotional abandon, she couldn't help but push away the side of her that was asking her to look at this with a clear head in the light of day.

She experienced a moment of quiet contentment and felt a sense of right and peace that the little voice in her head seemed to be trying to pull her out of. She ignored the inner voice, pushed it away as she slipped her tongue out to trace her lips. Kate could have sworn she could still taste him on her. The thought brought a silly little smile to her face as she realized that she was actually able to taste him first hand, instead of the ghost of him on her lips.

She cracked her eyes open against the morning sun she knew would be streaming through her bedroom curtains that hadn't been closed the previous night. Her eyes immediately landed on the clock beside her bed as she registered that despite their late night, she was still up only a little after seven.

She found it odd to wake up without him wrapped around her. As touchy feely as he tended to be, she was certain he would be inclined to cuddle, even in his sleep. Perhaps he was more of a solitary sleeper or liked to have his own space, or maybe he had just rolled away, the man couldn't stand still, perhaps that problem followed him into sleep as well.

She wanted to turn into his warmth, the comfort of his arms and decided to seek him out, not only for the contact. She so rarely had an opportunity to observe him unguarded and being able to turn the tables a little and just take in his expression as he slept was appealing to her. Careful, so as not to wake him, she rolled over to face him and found the other side of the bed empty.

Momentarily confused, her eyes fell on the expanse of bed beside her and the carefully arranged pillow. Beckett reached out a hand as if not completely trusting her eyes and felt only cool sheets. If he had been there beside her, he hadn't been there in a while.

She couldn't figure it out. She had fallen asleep in his arms; she vaguely remembered the way he so carefully moved her to lie against her pillow and the warmth that enveloped her a moment later. She had reveled in the feeling of his fingers tracing her skin.

The confusion didn't last long before she was smiling again as she remembered another night from a time so different, when he had risen surprisingly early and she came out to find him in her kitchen. He had been standing over her stove looking adorably rumpled with a seriously appealing case of bed head making pancakes, coffee already ready to go. Perhaps, she could finally tell him how he had looked.

She wondered if she knew then what she knows now about how things could be between her and Castle, if she would have been able to keep from demanding he join her in her room instead of threatening him if he came anywhere near it. The thought brought back delicious imagery from the night before and she couldn't seem to quell the urge to smile.

Beckett stretched, feeling the muscles in her body stretching and releasing the tension that had formed from the prior night's activities. Her muscles weren't sore, but they had a sort of heavy feeling to them that was another reminder of all that had transpired the night before. As she relaxed back into the bed she felt a sense of calm that she hadn't experienced in so long. Despite the state of comfort she was in, lying in the warmth of her bed with pleasant thoughts running through her head, she got up.

The thoughts in her head were memories, but outside her door was the real thing and she wanted to explore their new freedom by seeking him out. This time she wouldn't be hesitant about slipping into the kitchen with him, maybe wrapping her arms around him from behind as he finished breakfast, or interrupting the process entirely to drag him back in here for round two.

She threw on a pair of underwear and a long shirt, not concerned about him seeing her legs or any other part of her. After the night they had, she was fairly certain he would be seeing a lot more of her and modesty was not something she was particularly inclined to as she went in search of him.

Kate was puzzled when she made a quick sweep of her apartment and found it empty. She let her eyes fall over every tabletop and counter, looking for a note, something to explain why he had disappeared. Thinking about the state of her refrigerator, Kate was convinced that he must have gone out to grab something. Not a patient person, she moved to the kitchen and started the coffee pot.

It was after eight in the morning before she actually let herself believe that he hadn't just stepped out for breakfast. It was almost nine when she convinced herself that he had left with no intention of spending the morning with her, snuck out in the night. By nine thirty she was out of the state of shock and hurt and fully immersed in her anger.

She wasn't just angry with him for leaving, she couldn't be. She had known all along. That voice in her head that she shushed the night before and this morning, the one that had warned her he wasn't looking for anything more than to add her to the long list of women he had taken to bed, mocked her.

Kate found herself curled back up in her bed, blankets wrapped around her but not warming her, with the faint hint of his scent on the sheets mocking her. She was pissed when the first tear fell from her eyes, because she shouldn't be crying over him.

She shouldn't have let him affect her the way he had. She shouldn't have let him get close enough to hurt her. She shouldn't have blindly accepted that the way she felt was reflected. She shouldn't have accepted his words at face value. A man who made things up for a living could spin a fine tale and his words from the night before rang in her head.

He hadn't wanted forever with her. He had been clear that he wanted one night that they could both forget. He had repeated it more than once and still she foolishly let herself believe that there was something else there. That there was more to it than one night, something they could build on going forward. She hated herself for getting so caught up in the moment that she forgot that he was a rich and successful playboy and what was she? Who was she to think that she even stood a chance of being anything more to him than a friend and partner? Well, she was now. She could add successful conquest to the definition of their relationship.

She wanted to hate him, but she just hated herself. She couldn't entirely fault him for seeing an opportunity slipping away and taking advantage of it. She had offered. She had been the forceful one, the instigator, and he had gone along willingly. What had she expected him to do when she so blatantly threw herself at him? She knew he wasn't the type to turn down something he wanted; she knew the opposite was true.

Giving him the chance to take her to bed after having denied him so often was like waving bacon in front of a starving person. Hell, yes, they are going to take it, but that didn't mean that it's all they would want to have for the rest of their lives. They would still have a cheeseburger or waffles or deep fried Twinkies.

She wanted to hate him, though. She wanted to pin it all on him because he was the one who was single, he was the one who had pushed, he was the one who had crawled under her skin and inserted himself so deeply into her mind and heart that she couldn't walk away. He could, though. She tried to hold onto that thought. The thought of him walking away from her. It allowed her to finally shift the focus of her anger outwards and she felt slightly more relieved in that knowledge.

She might have been the one who fell for him, knowing he was unattainable, but he was the one who walked away. They could have been so good together, they had been so good together, and he walked away from it like every other relationship in his life. He couldn't make it work with her for longer than a few hours before the need to flee grabbed him up and dragged him out.

She knew he wasn't the type to settle down, not again. She had heard him make jokes for as long as she knew him about the special kind of hell that settling down and being married was. She had known his taste in women didn't include those who were particularly bright and leaned more towards someone who would faun all over him instead of hold their own in any situation. She had known for a long time she wasn't his type and seen all the signs that pointed towards the likelihood of waking along after a night with him.

She had never expected that she would fall into that trap, snared fully and that his leaving would cut her so deeply, would solidify every thought she had about not being good enough for him. Kate Beckett was not a fan of one night stands. She didn't give her body to just anybody, the right to share that with her had to be earned and she was suddenly pissed that she had fallen victim to kind words and sad eyes.

Castle had given her those puppy dog eyes a million times before and she didn't cave, but suddenly as her life was being thrown into turmoil with her boyfriend and his charm finally worked on her. She couldn't deny that she had a special place in her heart for the man; he had been more to her than anyone before. He had been her partner and friend long after the point when most people would have quit. Not only that, he had helped to shape her through the last couple of years, helped to make her more than what she had been before, helped her see more good in life instead of just the greys and shadows she had wandered through before him.

She had let herself get caught up in the nostalgia of that impact and she must have imprinted romantic feelings where they shouldn't have been. He was a great partner, a wonderful friend. She could go to him with anything, but she wondered how that would change now. She actually wished she could call him to help her puzzle out this new dilemma in her life and then she almost laughed.

To hell with that. She was an amazing person and if he wanted to piss that away on juvenile flights of fancy, to Hell with him, too.

Just because he was more interested in gallivanting around town with bimbettes half his age and a quarter of her IQ, didn't mean that there was anything wrong with her. She was lovable. She was smart, funny and attractive, something that most guys appreciated about her. She was worth risking everything with and she deserved more than to be some roll in the hay to anyone.

Her eyes fell on something across the room and she peeled back the covers to get out and go fetch it. With shaking hands she returned to the bed and for the first time since the night she had been given it, she found herself opening the little jewelry box and looking at the ring nestled inside.

Where before the ring had inspired so many negative thoughts and feelings, looking at it now, feeling the velvet of the box against her fingers, she was comforted.

x.x.x

A/N: I got my first death threat, so I must be in the big time now. Don't worry, it was lighthearted and joking so you don't have to worry about her actually offing me before I can finish this story.

Review that made my day: Everyone who recognized the characters from our favorite show in the actions and reactions last chapter. You guys are amazing. Not only do you understand, but you're intuitive and observant.

Thanks to everyone for reading.