Several months later...
She traces her fingers along the veins on the back of his hand lazily.
It still awes her the way something so simple can fill her with joy. The soft comfort of his body next to hers. The beating of his heart beneath her ear. The content silence. It wraps her in a warm and fuzzy blanket and she wonders why the prospect of this used to be so scary.
She's curled into his side, his arm slung over her shoulders as they watch a movie on his couch. He's intent upon the film, but she is too cozy in his arms to focus on the screen so she keys in on the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, the gentle friction of her loops and figure eights, the static of her caress.
He turns his hand over, laces their fingers together, and tears his eyes from the TV long enough to kiss her softly on the forehead.
She sighs. Lets the glow of that gesture settle over her. Until it sparks another sort of glow. And she feels that tickling from deep within. The sudden desire for more. For him.
She wriggles out of his arms and swings her leg around to straddle him, hands on his shoulders to get her balance. She brushes the fringe from his eyes and settles into his lap as she runs her fingers through his brown locks. She fits perfectly here. Just another sign that this is right. They are right. She's spent months discovering that every day. Spotting the little moments that were hidden before. The irrefutable evidence that there was never any need to doubt.
"You're going to miss the movie."
"Don't care, you're more interesting."
"More interesting than space cowboys? You jest, detective." He grins, toothy and content as he settles his hands on her hips. Their warmth already sinking through the fabric of her jeans.
"I was thinking..."
"You were thinking we should run off to the Bahamas together?"
She pauses.
"Yes."
He laughs, and she can't blame him for the honesty in it, because it sounds like a joke even to her ears.
But she's serious.
"I'm serious."
"Uh huh." He nods, running his hand up her side. Her skin buzzes beneath the cotton.
"Really," she stresses.
"And what will we do in the Bahamas, my dear?"
"Get married."
"What?" He chokes, stunned.
"Let's get married."
"No," he stammers. "No, no, no. No."
Her heart skips a beat, sitting on the edge of the cliff waiting to drop. What?
"No," he stresses. His eyes are defiant and serious. "You are not proposing to me right now."
Eyebrows furrowed, she gapes. The air leaves her lungs. "I-I-"
"That's the man's job, my job. And I will not stand for you usurping my birthright."
A silly grin blooms on her face, her heart pulled from the precipice by the brightness of his eyes and the reassuring smirk now resting on his lips.
"Birthright? It's the modern world, the woman can propose."
"No!" He shakes his head, teasingly poking at her ribs. "It has to be the man, and it has to be big. A grand gesture. Like the Yankee Stadium jumbotron or a thousand yellow daisies or a helicopter ride to the Statue of Liberty with fireworks shooting out of her crown and biplane circling with a giant banner that says Will You Marry Me? Something big."
"Uh huh," she nods sarcastically. "It couldn't be something romantic and simple like, you know, getting down on one knee or anything."
"Absolutely not...unless we were on the moon. Then one knee would be sufficiently big."
"You sure you want to build up my expectations so much?"
"Of course. It'll be epic, you'll see."
"I'm going to hold you to that," she says beaming, overcome by the swell of joy in her heart when she looks down at him and sees this moment repeated a thousand times over the course of a year, ten years, twenty-five years...forever.
"When is Alexis coming home?"
"Tomorrow morning," he rumbles, closing eyes as she runs her hands through his hair and massages his scalp.
"Perfect." She lowers her head to capture his mouth in a gentle kiss, thankful to whatever power in the universe that got them to this point. This point of uncomplicated. This point of together. Happy and together. Their future laid out before them. Grand gestures aside, it's the moments like this that she cherishes. The casual comfort of them is all she needs.
When she pulls away his eyes are smoldering. He leans forward with a growl, stealing his own kiss, more passionate, more demanding. She responds in turn, letting the fire grow unchecked, giving all she has to give. Because that's what they agreed – this can work if she gives what she has to give. And right now, with the promise of forever out there in the universe, no longer chained by indecision or misunderstanding, she has everything to give.
Her body hums as he kneads his hands up and down along the outside of her jeans. The occasional scratch of his nails tickles her arousal and she rolls her hips against him in response. Relishing the friction. The desire that compounds with every movement.
He groans.
"You drive me crazy," he murmurs when he finally tears his mouth from hers. She takes the opportunity to pepper kisses along his jaw, savoring the salt of his skin and the euphoria that bursts brighter with every throaty moan she elicits.
"Good," she breathes into his collar. She smirks, giddy with power, and rolls her hips again for good measure. But this time the gasp escapes from her mouth as the friction jolts her nerves with an electric spark.
Rick growls. He sneaks his hands under her white cotton shirt to get a touch of the bare skin of her back and midriff, which twitches as his fingers flutter past.
Kate leans back, her breath short, skin tingling, and helps him pull the shirt over her head, tossing it blindly over her shoulder. His lips are on her immediately. The heat of his tongue at her collar bone, the bite of his teeth as he nips at the skin, drives her wild. Her heart rattles around in her chest, frenzied by her desire.
Their motions become more frantic as his fingers work doggedly at unhooking the clasp of her bra.
It comes undone with a triumphant snap.
And the door swings open with a resounding bang.
They freeze. Rick's mouth at the swell of her breast, her hands threaded in his hair. And she watches in horror as Alexis, propping the door open with her foot, hauls her bags past the threshold and looks up with a little smile on her face.
And then she sees them. And the smile morphs into an expression Kate is fairly certain mimics her own.
They share an "eep!" before Kate flings herself off of Rick, falling behind the barricade of the couch. Mortified.
"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" Alexis turns and buries her head in her hands.
"Alexis! You're home!"
"Dad!" She answers, back turned to their scramble to right themselves. But Kate can't find her shirt and her bra refuses to lock and she wishes she could melt into the couch and disappear. Of course they would be interrupted by his teenage daughter. Of course. Because the universe clearly still has a sick sense of humor.
"Oh god, I uh- I decided to- oh god, I decided to come early. And- was gonna surprise you. But-"
"Uh, happy you're here hon."
"You know, I'm just- I'll go put my stuff away and- yeah." She keeps her eyes averted, grabs her suitcase and back pack and scurries up the stairs.
Kate, who had located her shirt draped over the coffee table and managed to reach across the couch for it during Alexis' exit, flops back and covers her face with the soft cotton.
She groans. He chuckles.
"Hey! Don't laugh. This is mortifying."
"She's a big girl. She'll get over it."
Cheeks flushed, she drops the shirt to her lap and gapes at him.
"I'm a big girl and I won't get over it!"
He stands, still chuckling somehow. Of course he finds this amusing.
Grabbing her hands unbidden, he hoists her off of the couch, whatever embarrassment he feels, if any, hidden by a smirk.
"Come on, let's go say hi to my lovely, terribly-timed daughter."
She throws the shirt over her head, pulling it down with a huff.
"That's it, I'm instituting a locked-door policy."
"She has a key, Kate."
"Then we need to invest in a Do Not Disturb sign."
He wraps his arms around her. A soothing hug to calm the nerves and adrenaline still coursing through her veins. It helps, but not as much as his next statement:
"Come on Mrs. Castle. Your future step-daughter awaits."
Because embarrassment is nothing compared to the bliss of that image.
A/N - I think I've been attacked by the fluff monster. Thanks to fooxoo and dave-ck for their awesome beta skills.
You know the drill, reviews make my day bright and shiny, which gets me in the mood to finish writing the fluff-filled conclusion to this fun little journey. As always, a "like" or "dislike" is more than appreciated.
Fight On and You'll Never Walk Alone