A Fragment Of A Second Of Sense

Chapter Four

The first rays of sunlight gently stroke Kate Beckett's face and she found herself immersed in the distinct smell of a man, and not any man; there was only one person in the world who smelled like this, like a mixture of high class cologne and somewhat earthy, musky and with that faint sweet note of cedar. It was everywhere, it lingered on the sheets that lay softly on her skin so stubbornly there was no escaping the scent.

All around her smelled like Richard Castle, every breath she took was full of it and it brought back the memories of the night before, also her throbbing headache reminded her of the one wine too many last night and what a fool she had made of herself.

She didn't even want to open her eyes, she wanted to sink into the pillow, be buried underneath it and never resurface. But it was inevitable. She had to get up and get home, the faster the better, so she finally forced her eyes to open and had to blink several times until they had accustomed to the bright sunlight piercing through the curtains. It took a second until she fully processed where she was.

She lay in Castles king-size bed, still wearing her clothes from the day before, loosely covered with that Rick-scented blanket, he was nowhere around and it didn't look like the other half of the bed had been slept in at all. Better for him, if he'd dared to lay down beside her, her first move wouldn't be weakly to the bathroom but after him to shoot him.

Her reflection hardly gave the striking pain hammering in her forehead away, she just looked a bit tired, a bit unkempt. She finger combed her hair absentmindedly and tried to cope with the awkwardness she had coming once she left this room. A short moment she hoped that he would be gone somewhere but then the smell of scrambled eggs and pancakes hit her nostrils.

He was actually making breakfast?

One could hardly say that curiosity got the better part of her but it helped getting herself to go downstairs. Taking one at a time, she suppressed the thoughts that crept unto her tired mind, what she'd said to him, how embarrassing it was to have fallen asleep in his arms, that the only thing she really wanted to do was take the fire-exit out of the bedroom-window and run away as far as she could. She needed to call Demming.

She didn't know what she would say to him, it wasn't like anything had changed, but she felt like she needed to talk to him, get at least some bit of herself back into her possession. When she talked to him, she was always exactly who she wanted to be, strong, tough, funny, never lost for words, self-assure, in control.

If she was to be truly honest, beside his kindness and great looks, that was the thing that drew her mostly to the robbery detective whom she'd been seeing for a couple of weeks; he never threw her off track, she was perfectly fine and herself with him around.

He made her feel confident and sexy because she knew every second what she was doing, saying and feeling.

It was the exact opposite she felt to when with Castle, he made her feel insecure, uncertain of what she wanted, needed, wished for, who she was, what she was to say, he made her a cringing, unsure child again, lost in a world where he made the rules, even if he was unaware of it. She'd realized it the night before, how he could make her snap like that, make her freak in a heartbeat because he'd figured her out more than she ever had figured herself out.

He drew her away from herself, from what she thought she ought to be and she didn't like that, it made her vulnerable and needy of his acknowledgement and protection. And she didn't want to be protected by him, she wanted to be protected from him, from the effects he had on her, from what just a hint of a change in his manners and actions could do to her.

She wasn't stable when with him, she was so lost in everything he said and implied, it made her feel like back when her mother died, desperate for directions, for someone to hold her and the urge of being held by him, the undeniable desire to snuggle up in his arms where everything felt so safe but wasn't, all that was too much for her. She couldn't handle it, it wasn't anything like her.

It wasn't so much that she couldn't handle Rick Castle, because she could. She only couldn't handle herself when she was with him.

Finally he came in sight, frying eggs and making pancakes almost simultaneously and her heart made an unpleasant jump of fear and anxiousness and a third feeling she didn't dare to name, when he caught her eye.

It seemed like an eternity until his lips went up into a kind, harmless smile that she couldn't give back to him, she felt like she'd turned to a sculpture.

"Good morning", he said briskly, as if nothing had ever happened, "I made breakfast and coffee, I didn't know what you would want"

"Er...", her voice was so brittle, she coughed once or twice, feeling her cheeks get crimson red, she felt so awkward it was beyond reason, "thank you, but I think I better get going"

She held on tighter to her jacket, that she had grasped from the couch and stumbled backwards to the door, watching the look on his face change from politeness to something like repentance.

"Kate", it was an appeal and he could have held her with both hands, tied her with a rope and nailed her to the wall, it wouldn't have made her stay like the tone of his voice, she couldn't move, "I'm sorry about last night, I was out of line and I want to apologize, it was none of my business nor my right to say these things to you"

Kate looked at him and knew that he meant it and she was too tired to be still mad at him, because, initially she was really mad at herself.

"It's fine", she said but it came out more coldly that she'd intended and he pursed his lips, a picture of regret, his face was causing her so many mixed feelings, suddenly she knew what she had to do, "But I think it would be best if you wouldn't come in on Monday"

She didn't want to not see him again, she knew that, but she was sure that the only way to safe herself was to cut this connection between her and him before it sent her over the edge, before it took the last bit of self-control she had.

She turned on her heels, not allowing herself to look at him, practically hearing how his features fell apart and the clicking of the door drowned his protest.

Now she only heard her heels resounding on the wooden hallway floor.

Author's Note: I know this is another rather short one but I kinda work short atm, so I hope you enjoy it anyway..please do share your thoughts on this chapter...what do you think will it take to get these two back together?