Into the closet

Summary

Someone always kept interrupting their most important moments. What if they wouldn't let them? Alternative scene to 47 seconds SPOILERS

Disclaimer

Still not mine? Oh well.

Rating T for language and … well, romance.

Category Romance/Humor

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A/N: Gosh, I'm thrilled that so many people like my little story! Thank you all for your kind words, nudging me to go on, and I hope I'll cover all your expectations. I'm doing my best, reading and re-reading if all fits to current I see this story in. Here you go! Have fun!

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Chapter 3 – In the frying pan

Castle left the precinct in a state of mental dizziness. He had some difficulties to wrap his mind around what happened mere minutes ago. What the hell was that woman doing to him? Had it really been Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, who had dragged him into this closet, or had she been abducted by aliens and replaced by a clone? She had felt real enough, though… Speaking of - an overwhelming realization of mind blowing proportions popped into his mind: He, Richard Castle, had had his arms wrapped around Kate Beckett, without being shot, maimed or even eye rolled at! WTH? His heart skipped a beat at this thought, and the memories of these sweet (and incredibly hot) moments in this supply closet. He was dumbfounded at this unexpected turn of events. And even more (that was what made this whole incident so hard to believe), she had wrapped her arms around him, too!

An earsplitting grin spread across his face while walking to his car. She had embraced him. She had even kissed him. Then it hit him like a lightning bolt: He had just kissed Kate freaking Beckett, and she had kissed him back, to top it all off! Joy, excitement and pure happiness rose like a bubble in his chest, burst in a loud laughter that had some people around him startle with surprise.

"I just kissed Kate Beckett!" he called to none in particular, making his fellow pedestrians jump even more, startled at his sudden outburst. He jumped into the air once, clapped his feet together and began a sing-song like child blowing raspberries:

"I just kissed Kate Be-ckett, I just kissed Kate Be-ckett, I just kissed Kate Be-ckett!", along with a silly dance: four steps forward, and on "ckett", one leg stuck out to the left (or right, respectively).

At that, the crowd around him relaxed. Oh, just another madcap. Nothing out of the ordinary, after all. The New Yorkers were used to this kind of stuff.

All the way to his car, he continued to sing, unable to stop feeling like a 15year old having received a kiss of the girl he had a major crush on. His face was lit up like with 1000 candles, and warm feeling in his whole body made him think he could float all the way home.

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Martha looked into the fridge and took out a water bottle. Not her favorite beverage, to be honest, but she couldn't very well start drinking wine (which was her favorite, by the way) at 10 a.m. in the morning, now could she? No, really too early for that. She smiled a crooked smile at her inner strength and was about to open the bottle, when she heard the key turn in the door to the loft.

Richard was coming home early! That was a bad sign. He wanted to make a move on Beckett, she was sure, and when was home this early, it could only mean that she… but then, she got a good look at his face, and was relieved immediately from her worries. She hadn't seen his face this happy in – well, not ever. He emanated a sense of joy which warmed her heart.

"Hey kiddo." She said, smiling softly. "Your resolution regarding a certain Detective went well, I take it?"

Richard was still positively beaming. "Well, Mother, I cannot thank you enough for giving me this push this morning." He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"So, care to elaborate?" she couldn't resist asking.

"You sure you wanna hear it?" he asked with a grin.

"Spare me the details, son, just the main facts." Martha waved impatiently her hand at her son.

"She kissed me."

Martha almost dropped the bottle she was holding. Recovering quickly from her shock, she gave a small smile. "Clever girl. And about time!"

Rick tossed his jacket on a nearby chair and nodded in agreement. He seemed to burst with energy, and she couldn't help but ask further: "So. If you two finally got together - I cannot stress enough how sincerely happy I am for you two - one question remains." She made a pause for effect.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be kissing her senseless right now?"

Rick choked in surprise: "Mother! I'm your son, remember!" In a calmer tone, he went on to explain: "She asked me to come over for dinner tonight. They have a case, and we can't very well 'talk' about things (let alone kissing anyone senseless, as appealing as this thought might be, in the middle of the precinct. So, I'll pick the wine for our dinner tonight and – well, wait for the next 9 hours and 24 minutes to pass." That being said, he looked up his wine bottles for a suitable candidate.

"A-ha." Martha continued to watch her son, who was softly humming to himself and clearly anticipating the things to come. "Time can be a heartless b'tch sometimes, kiddo."

Rick didn't hear that statement. He quickly chose a 2000 Châteauneuf du Pape (for decompressing reasons). Worked last time.

Now – how to pass the time until 8.00 p.m.?

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"We have to talk first." She said.

"First?" has asked, eyebrow raised up to his hairline, heart hammering in his chest. Can that actually be happening?

"Before we start eating, Rick." She clarified, a not suppressible smile tugging at her mouth. But then, the expression on her face changed, got sad. "And I guess you won't like it."

"Oh no!" he groaned. "Why do we have to talk in the first place? Let's just – eat?" Rick grinned, wriggling his eyebrows, and hoping against hope that she'd agree.

Of course she wouldn't. "I'd love to, really, Rick." He loved how she used his first name. But then, she continued to talk. "But it's really important, and then, maybe, you don't want to – eat – anymore." Her voice was rich with innuendo, so he knew they were on the same page. But she'd have to confess to him first, to get rid of the lump in her stomach. She pointed to the couch, asking him to sit next to her.

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While stuck in traffic, Kate had thought back to a conversation she had earlier today.

Espo was staring at her. "You remember everything?"

Kate had just left the interrogation room, and bumped into her fellow detective.

"Excuse me?" she gave back, her thoughts still intent on what this perp in the interrogation room just told her.

"You remember your shooting. You never said you did remember all of it."

"So what?" Kate said absentmindedly, still not getting what Espo was asking this question for.

"So you also remember what Castle told you just before you – went out?"

That question hit her full in the stomach.

She had lied to everyone (except Dr. Burke) about not remembering. Several times, especially to Castle. How would he react? No other way than to tell him straight. She didn't want to start something important with him without being completely honest. If he got mad at her, she would try to convince him. She'd even listen to her wicked voice in order to make up with him. She was determined to.

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"I lied to you."

"Excuse me, what?"

She tried again.

"I lied to you about - not remembering my shooting. I do. All of it." She waited, watching his expression closely. Comprehension dawned on his face, brows drawn together and the happy bubble he was in the whole day was suddenly tainted with a clear sense of betrayal.

She saw what her confession did to him, and tried to take his hand. She was indescribably glad that he allowed her to touch him, though he didn't return the gentle squeeze she gave him.

"Look, Rick. I'm – " She cleared her throat and started again.

"I'm truly, truly sorry about lying to you until now. I should have said something before. But I didn't, and I – "

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why didn't you say something before now?" he wanted to know, a wary expression in his eyes, cautious and beginning to pull away from her, to shield himself from possible emotional damage. His hands seemed to move away from hers, a fraction of an inch only, but it was all she needed to know what was at stake here.

She swallowed once, hard, and decided to put all her cards on the table. She wanted this. She wanted him.

"Because I didn't know how to deal with it, at least at that time. It was all too much then. It was definitely not my smartest decision, and I sure as hell didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry. I – I want to say it back, but I'm still frightened about what will happen, how it will change us. And I'm still scared to death, either way." She knew she wasn't good with words, but hoped he'd understood anyway.

He thought about her words, looking at their hands, and saw hers trembling. He couldn't say he understood. From his point of view, she was sending mixed signals. Very much mixed.

"If you're unsure where you stand regarding me, why did you kiss me today?" And invite me to your place, he added silently. "To say you're sorry, and send me home to wait another four years?" His voice clearly showed his hurt. He felt like he was played with, and she rushed to explain.

"No, no - I know perfectly well where I stand regarding you." She paused, taking a deep breath to finally say it, and plunge into it.

Too late for him, he was getting impatient.

"And that would be…?"

"Here." She said and kissed him full on the mouth.

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A/N: All thoughts had to be taken into consideration, so every character got his/her fair share - I hope. Next chapter coming soon!

Reviews most welcome, good and especially bad! You're helping me a lot either way!