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G

Gravity

"Beckett!" Castle raced into the squad room, manila file folder in hand. It was well into morning and the sky was lightening but he knew she would still be there. just where he left her, sitting in front of the murder board. The case had been rough; he had suspicions that she spent the night at the precinct at least twice in the past week, and tonight was no exception to the trend.

"Castle?" he heard her ask. She wasn't asleep on her desk, which was how he found her yesterday, but was sitting atop said desk, facing full-attention to the whiteboard.

"Beckett, I got it- it was Margret," he skidded to a stop, panting out of breath from what seemed to be running.

"What?" she was still slightly stunned by his sudden presence. She had been sitting in nothing but complete silence for the past few hours and wasn't ready for the assault on her senses.

"Margret Thompson is the killer. Listen," he handed her the manila folder. "The ME report said he was found with indentation to the fourth and fifth ribs," he took out a photo to show her. Like she hadn't seen it a hundred times over. "Well, I couldn't stop thinking about how it looked so familiar. Then I heard that Blue Oyster cover coming from the living room, Alexis was watching some show, and it hit me."

"Blue Oyster, really?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"It was from the Lincoln commercial. That's when it clicked." He pointed to the picture, tracing the pale indentations with his index finger. "See it? The vertical rectangle with the cross hairs in the center?"

She cocked her head to the side, and then nodded. "Yeah, I see it."

"It's from the hood ornament of a Lincoln town car. Guess who drives a 2006 silver Luxury Lincoln Town Car?" He watched as her eyes flicked from the photograph to him, widening with realization.

"Margret Thomson?" It was more or less a statement, and after looking at each other, at the murder board, and back, they both made a lunge for markers. He grabbed a red marker and she a blue, both making notes and changes to the timeline as they talked it out, building theory.

"She said she was at a party waitressing at the time of death," she began.

"But that party was huge, and she was a smoker, you couldn't walk within 10 yards of her and not tell. No one would have thought anything of it if she slipped out of there"

"So her car was found at East 33rd…" she traced a line on the white board, drawing the lines and connecting the dots mentally as well. The frown in her brow told Castle that she was thinking, hard. "She had plenty of time to drop it off and walk back. The party wasn't five blocks away."

"Putting her car directly between her alibi and our secondary crime scene." He finished for her; his turn to make a note on the board. He reached across her trying to write his discovery under the picture of Margret Thompson, and in his excitement, bumped right into her, hard.

"Castle!" she squeaked, her arms flying out reflexively and finding his coat. Castle, he himself put off by the harsh contact, wasn't maintaining the best balance either, and her vice-like grip on his jacket sent them both sprawling to the ground.

She fell on top of him, both hands flat on his chest, her body pressed up against his completely, face inches from his. At first both were too stunned to move, let alone speak, and that's when she felt it beneath her- the rumbling. It wasn't until she heard him did she realize- he was laughing.

She couldn't help but crack a smile herself- if only to keep her sanity. Any more of the intense eye conversation and she would have exploded. It was minutes later when their laughter subsided and neither made motion to move from their current predicament. Kate could tell herself that the laughing fit took it out of her, that she wasn't ready to move just yet, but she also knew that was untrue.

He caught her eye again as the last of the laughter in the air melted into silence and his expression was somber. He loved that laugh. That smile. The way her hair fell from its place tucked behind her ear and into her face. He wanted more of that.

More of it all the time.

There was a pang low in her chest as she felt his obvious attraction against her leg but she made no attempts to move, a pink blush rising in her cheeks. Her hand was still resting on his chest, measuring the quick rise and fall of it as they stared at each other.

The question was not what was she going to do, or he for that matter.
It was not what was going to happen.

It was simply who would do it first.

Gravity.

The fundamental force of attraction that all objects with mass have for each other. Albert Einstein once said that gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.

Rick Castle and Kate Beckett would beg to differ.

So review?
You know you want to.

ALSO- For those of you infuriated with the ending of chapter two, "Beat", Susanatc wrote a follow up to it called 'To the Victor'- her smutty version of how my chapter should have ended. The link to the story and her profile can be found on my profile under favorites. Please be kind and leave her a review with your thoughts, she DID take the time to share.

Albert Einstein was quite the genius, huh?

sof