An: so here is chapter three: I'm not so crazy about it, but oh well.

Please read, review, and be brutally honest. I can take it.

And for now:

Chapter Three: Goodnight

"So for most likely to succeed," the woman on the stage continued, once again opening an ominous envelope. A moment of hesitation and what Kate assumed was supposed to be suspense cloaked the silent room. Why this always fascinated everyone, she didn't know. She thought it was stupid, and most of the time, quite humorous. "Max Hart!" she read, to a round of applause as Hart made his way towards the stage to accept the small little token- a basket of school gear, it looked like. He accepted the mic, like all the others before him, shouted out to some of his old buddies, threw in a comment about his wife and kids, and exited stage left.

"And for The Most Changed Award," she again took out another envelope. "Not to mention cutest date, Kate Beckett!" Her first reaction was surprise. Then 'of course, she had to throw a comment about Castle in there,' and then, more surprise as she felt a tugging on her arm. Before she could even register what was happening, Castle was pulling her along. It was then she realized he was pulling her towards the stage. She attempted to dig her heels into the ground, to no avow. Cursed heels. Before she knew it she was up the few stairs and being ushered across the stage. Shit. No. this was so not happening. Even as the gift basket was handed to her and the mic was shoved in her face she was denying it. It was not happening.

When a few long moments passed and she remained silent, Castle stepped up beside her, resting a hand on the other side of her waist and speaking into the mic. "Well obviously we weren't expecting this," he began, sending a ripple of laughter through the crowd. We? Kate asked herself, followed by what the hell is he going to say? She knew she wasn't going to be talking anytime soon. Somewhere along the journey to the stage she had lost her voice, and sound evaded her completely.

"At last, words came. "Th-Thank you," she began. Did she have to make a speech? "I guess." She guessed? She was making more a fool of herself then Castle. ""I guess I have the boys at the 12th to thank for this. And Richard Castle." And Richard Castle? What in the hell possessed her to say that? Oh, he would never let her forget that. But for the time being, he just smiled, gave her an unexpected peck on the cheek, and continued to make a shameless book-promotion into the mic before leading the stunned Kate, basket in hand, off the stage. Clapping ensued, and the awards continued.

"Richard Castle, huh?" he murmured into her ear as he led her along through the crowd. She barely heard what he had said, the feel of his hot breath on her face distracting.

"Shut up," she told him. And then: "Thanks."

"For what?

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

"No," he assured her, sensing the annoyance in her voice. "A drink?" he asked her. She nodded.

At the bar, he ordered a martini, she a glass of wine. It wasn't nearly as strong a drink as she needed, but she feared what the alcohol might bring out of her, since the perfectly sober Kate couldn't even seem to keep it together. "

"Are you having fun?" he asked her. He was looking at her in that way he did sometimes. She knew when she was under that observation lying would be futile. He would see right through it.

"Yea," she lied anyways. Why it was a lie she did not know. He was doing everything she asked and more- he was being the perfect gentleman. "I'm tired." The sound of music told them both the award ceremony was over, and Castle stood.

"Dance with me?" he asked her. To his dismay, she shook her head.

"I'm alright. I'm kind of tired," she admitted. She was, too.

"You sure? I'm a brilliant dancer," he wiggled his eyebrows. She knew this to be true, he was a fantastic dancer, but she still declined. "Alright then. Do you want to leave?" he asked her. It was only around 10, and he was just getting warmed up, she could tell. Again, she shook her head.

"No, no I'm fine. The bar is open and drinks are on the house, so I'm fine right where I am," she lied again. "You go, dance, have fun. I might catch up with you." He studied her only a moment longer before disappearing into the thick crowd that was inhabiting the dance floor. She watched him- dance alone, dance with a few different women, no one more than a few minutes. It was actually quite entertaining, and she had an idea that he was kind of showing off for her. She smiled to herself.

Then came her. Mellissa again. Approached Castle, leaned in far too close for Kate's comfort, and whispered something. And then they began to dance. He kept his hands off of her, but she was all over him like a hormonal teenager sleeping her way through the male population. It made Kate want to barf. Instead, she watched them, a sick feeling boiling in the pit of her stomach, downing her glass of wine in one swig. She watched them, a look that could kill boring holes into both of their heads. The fast, upbeat dance music had faded away and was being replaced by a slower tune. Castle took a step back, and Mellissa looked confused. Kate had no doubt he saw her killing the woman with her eyes. Kate saw his stare and pulled off one of her finest eye rolls. He excused himself from a disappointed Mellissa and made his way to Kate. She took a newfound infatuation with the bottom of her now-empty wine glass as he approached.

He didn't ask.
He knew there was no point.
He simply took her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.

"Castle, what are you doing?" she asked.
He said nothing.

Tom Baxter's smooth voice filled the room, and the slow jazz piece that accompanied him in the song. He faced her, he stepped closer, and he rested his hand safely on the small of her back, holding her hand out to the side with his other. She was surprised at his seriousness as they danced. She was pressed up against him and he held her impossibly close, his cheek resting against her temple. They danced slowly to the music, swaying in beautiful synchrony, and Kate closed her eyes, relishing the feeling. In his arms. She felt so safe. She felt loved.

Why was she thinking this? He practically dragged her out here.
She hated him, remember?
She was supposed to be hating him.
He was making that increasingly hard.
She felt herself being swept away, and for some odd reasons, the walls that protected her heart were fading into nothingness.

Castle held her as close as she (and physics) would allow, the feeling of her so irreplaceable. He never wanted the song to end. The whole time Mellissa was dancing he was sneaking glances at Kate. He had wanted to stop right then and pull her up with him, but he didn't want to be rude to poor Mellissa, who was practically throwing herself at him. Then she had leaned into him, breeching what little personal bubble he did own, whispering into his ear about leaving. He smiled at her, though it felt like more of a forced grimace, and declined, deciding it was the best place to excuse himself and get Kate.

That was all he had wanted all evening- a dance.
He felt her lean into his body, relaxing a little more.
That didn't hurt, either.

They continued to sway to the music, the beat picking up and dropping off, but they stayed glued to each other, neither wanting to part. She felt his lips moving on her temple, coupled with his voice, low and almost incoherent. Then it clicked: he was mumbling along the lyrics.

Too soon, the song was over.
He hesitated maybe a moment too long to release her.
She hesitated a moment too long to pull away.

"Thank you," she said, quietly, taking an interest in her shoes.

"The pleasure was all mine," he said back, equally as quiet.

What had just happened? She almost asked him this out loud, but refrained. Neither of them knew, but they both could tell something had.

"Want to go?" he asked her. She merely nodded. She bid farewell to those who waved as they made their way out and to the city streets. She shivered in the night air- her dress was beautiful, but wasn't exactly insulating. Castle knew if he gave her his jacket she would probably shoot him, so he compromised by wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his warm body for the third time that night. "Home?" he asked her.

For a fleeting second she wondered which one of their homes he meant- his or hers- but then all of a sudden she really didn't care. She just nodded again. They caught a cab and she was saddened to discover they were headed to her apartment.

Saddened?
Relieved is what she meant to feel.

She sat on her side of the cab's backseat, a huge space between she and him, as he stuck to his side. She leaned against the door, resting her head on the cool glass of the window, letting the nights events play out in her head. What she wanted to do was scoot over and feel his body heat against hers again. She found herself missing that feeling.

What?
No.
She was happy where she was.
She didn't need his coat or his arms or the feel of him beside her.
She didn't need or want any of it.

The cab pulled up to her building.
Would he get out? She asked.

He did.
He went around to her side of the cab.
Would he open the door?

He did.

The feminist in her rolled her eyes at him.
The woman smiled despite herself at his chivalry.

He walked her up.
Up.
Up.
They were at her door now.

For a non-date, it sure felt like a date, she thought to herself. He smiled at her, and she wondered who would speak first. She did.

"Thank you…for tonight," she told him, still quiet. He smiled at her.

"Anytime," he told her. She took out the keys to her apartment.
She fiddled with said keys. Why couldn't she find the damn thing? When did she get so many keys? She swore she didn't have this many keys until now. She looked up, slightly embarrassed as she gave up trying to stall.

Irrational Kate was not in charge this time.
No, now it was all Kate. She felt herself gravitating towards him. Why was she gravitating towards him? She decided she wanted to.

She saw him leaning in towards her.
Soon, there would be no more space, something inside of her warned her. She didn't care.

She stood on her toes and tilting her face towards his, brushing her lips against his, lightly, carefully. They moved, slowly, taking their time. Her lips parted only slightly and the kiss deepened, just as slightly, her hands snaking their way around his neck, pulling him closer. Her body was pressed impossibly close to his once again, and she couldn't get over how good it felt.

How good he felt.
The need for oxygen prompted her to pull away, and she did, still hovering by his lips.

"Goodnight," she said, her voice a barely audible whisper, hovering still another long heavy moment before sinking back down to her normal height.

"'Night," he responded, frozen, his feet sewn to the door step as he watched her slip inside her apartment.


The song that plays when they dance is called 'Tell her today' by Tom Baxter.
Brilliant song, I suggest you look it up. It screams Caskett, plus I imagine it's nice to dance to.

Thanks to Kathryn Mae Wilson MD, for the brilliant ideas
And to LonLon, for the song, as well as fabulous conversation
And of course to my reviewers.
You lovely human beings.

So don't forget to msg me with any ideas you may have, I am open to anything
For now, though, I have one question…
How awkward do you think tomorrow at the precinct will be?

So here is where I beg for a review.
You really are lovely.