An Embarrassment of Bitches

They'd had a fight. Again.

It was the third time this week, and Castle wasn't sure if it was because the excitement of being newly engaged was wearing off or because the stress of their newest case or because his new book was about to come out or even just because sometimes, these things happened. Probably a combination. Add in the fact that neither had slept well and tempers had been running high, and it hadn't taken much for them to start snapping at each other again.

The first time, it was at least somewhat reasonable and not overly horrible. Kate had wanted to stay at the precinct until she caught a break. Castle had a phone meeting with his agent and needed to head home. She'd promised to be home by eight and he'd promised to have a warm meal waiting. But then Ryan caught a break and she and Espo got caught up in warrant requests and new evidence and theorizing, and it was after ten before she'd even realized she was late.

She shot him a quick text that read, so sorry, leaving now, and ran to her car.

But when she'd arrived at home, the kitchen was dark, as was the rest of the loft. She crept through the living room, into his office, but there was no sign of him there. Into the bedroom, but he wasn't there either. It was then that she noticed the sliver of light from beneath the bathroom door, heard the soft sounds of the shower running.

Kate knew him well enough to know he was probably upset with her and most likely wouldn't take kindly to her joining him beneath the spray, so she took the time to slip out of her work clothes and into pajamas, perched on the edge of the bed to anxiously await his exit from the bathroom.

When the door finally opened, he stepped out in just boxers, hair still damp and his broad chest completely exposed. Kate was momentarily caught up in memories of the feeling of his chest beneath her fingers, pressed against her back, hovering above her, before she startled back into the present and raised her eyes to his.

He was upset, and it was completely warranted. She could see in his eyes that he was disappointed and annoyed at her for not keeping her word. And she was far too tired to deal with this but she knew she had to.

"I'm sorry," she said with a shake of her head.

"You were supposed to be home over two hours ago." No acknowledgment of her apology. No hint of a smile. Not good.

"I know. But Ryan found something and we were following it up and I just..."

"I don't care, Kate," Castle said icily, cutting her off. "I made dinner. I chilled a bottle of wine. And then I ended up eating leftovers from yesterday. Alone."

"I lost track of time," she said quickly, speaking while she had a chance. "I'm sorry."

"You could have called."

"I didn't realize..."

"That your partner, your fiancé, wasn't by your side? It didn't even occur to you to glance at a clock? How long have we worked together, Kate?"

She sighed, dropped her head into her hands. "Look, I messed up," she admitted. "I know that. As soon as I realized it, I dropped everything and came straight here. But you're right... I should have called."

He didn't reply, merely crossed the room and slipped into bed on the other side, his back to her. Kate shifted, crawled over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Castle."

No answer.

"Castle, I appreciate all the trouble you went to for me. I really do, even if I screwed up everything else. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

He shrugged, dislodged her hand. "Forget it."

"Castle, please."

He rolled over then, and though his eyes were still angry she could see that the intensity had lessened. "Why?"

"Because I love you," she said simply. "And because I hate when we fight."

"So do I, but I also hate when I have a rough day and I plan a nice evening to de-stress both of us and then it doesn't happen."

"You act like this is a normal occurrence."

"Well, how do I know it won't become one?"

"Castle..."

"I'm serious, Kate."

She sighed again. "Look, I know I screwed up. I already said that. And I've already apologized. But there have been times where you were so engrossed in writing that you lost track of time. So how is that any different from what happened tonight?"

"I..." he began, stopped. "I don't know, I guess."

"Because it's not," Kate pressed. "It's not any different. And that's why I can't promise it won't happen again, because we both know it will. But I can promise to call next time."

Castle sighed now, rolled back over so he was facing away from her. "Fine."

Knowing that was probably all she'd get from him tonight, she pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed and slipped beneath them, facing Castle's back but not touching him, giving him space but letting him know she was there for him. She knew he would seek her out in his own time.

She woke in the morning wrapped in his arms.

The second fight was two days later. Raging Heat was to be released in two weeks, and Black Pawn had insisted on throwing a pre-launch party this coming weekend. Castle agreed to it because he hadn't done much promotional work all summer.

Naturally, he'd invited Kate along, said it'd be a good way to publicize their engagement. She'd disagreed, questioned why they had to make it public. It'd only been a couple weeks and could they keep it to themselves a while longer? He'd pointed out that people would notice the ring and speculate anyway. She'd suggested either not attending or not wearing the ring. And, of course, an argument ensued.

This one was worse than the first. Castle accused her of being embarrassed to be marrying him. When she denied that allegation, he asked if she was unsure or had changed her mind. She denied that as well, viciously so, turning the accusation back around on him. So they'd yelled and screamed and said all sorts of things they didn't mean.

And then he'd angrily pinned her against the door, clothing flying in all directions, and it was rough and hot and pounding and they collapsed in a heap afterwards. But by the time they made it to bed, the majority of the anger was gone, so they didn't bring it up again.

Perhaps they should've, though, because the party was tomorrow night and they'd just had another fight about it. Or, really, a continuation of the same fight from three nights ago, and Castle was realizing now that angry against-the-door sex probably hadn't been a legitimate solution because they'd resolved absolutely nothing.

Kate still wasn't keen on announcing their engagement. Castle thought it'd be the best way to go to prevent rumors from spreading like wildfire. They could release a statement, have a couple pictures taken on the red carpet, and leave it at that. But this time, rather than make-up-sex, Kate had taken a step back, claiming she needed some perspective. She'd laced up her running shoes about an hour ago and headed out to clear her head.

And then Castle found himself alone in the loft, the silence too overwhelming, their words still echoing in his head. So while Kate was pounding her anger into the sidewalks of Manhattan, Castle sank into the living room sofa with a glass of scotch and their journals and a pen.

He actually considered writing something, translocating his anger to the page, but settled instead on reading. He flipped through the first one, debating starting at a random location, before deciding to begin at the first time he'd said 'I love you' in writing. Because though he was angry at her, his feelings hadn't changed since that night, and perhaps reading all the reasons he loved her would help calm the anger that still pulsed through his veins.

He began there, worked his way chronologically through the following letters, reaching and surpassing the most recent one they'd read together, but there was still no sign of Kate and he was feeling much better, much less angry, so he continued anyway. He could always read it again with her later.

Dear Kate,

Sometimes it scares me, how much I love you. How intense the feelings are, how all-encompassing. We're not together, we rarely engage in physical contact, and now maybe I understand why that is, because if unintentionally holding your hand sets my heart racing, I have no idea how I'll survive anything else.

That was... unreal, Kate. I truly wasn't intending for that to happen. I was just going to drop off Royal and leave you to it. (Though a part of me secretly wished you'd invite me to stay for a while.) I was just going to explain what I'd learned about his likes and preferences. I had no intention of taking your hand and stroking it tenderly. It caught me completely off guard. I think it did the same to you. I could tell you felt off-balance and you seemed a bit unsure of your words.

I will admit that I like knowing I can get to you just as easily as you get to me. It reminds me of what we're working towards and how incredible it's going to be once we get there.

Us.

Castle had to look away then as the emotions overwhelmed him. He still remembered that night, the way his blood had pounded through his veins, the heat he'd felt when Kate looked up at him like she wanted to kiss him, like just the thought of it had left her breathless.

It had. Mere kisses had left both of them breathless on multiple occasions. No other woman had ever cast such a spell over him.

Just as his thoughts spiraled down into those memories, he heard the door to the loft open, looked up in time to see Kate step inside and shut the door behind her. She slipped out of her shoes, padded to the kitchen for water, seemingly not noticing his presence. Not until she cleared the corner of the counters again did she register the fact that he was sitting on the sofa, eyes fixed on her.

"Hey," she offered, not quite sure where to start.

"Hey."

"What are you...?" He held up the journal. "Oh."

"How was your run?"

"Good." She shrugged, sipped some more water. "I feel better now."

"Good," he agreed, stilted and awkward, and God, he hated this.

She seemed to detest it as well because it was Kate who spoke first.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she murmured, crossing to stand behind the sofa, one hand rested on his shoulder. "This week has been so stressful and I just... I haven't handled anything well. And I apologize for that."

He lifted his hand, covered hers with his palm. "I haven't either. I overreacted. And I'm sorry too. But we do still need to talk about this."

She nodded, bent down to press a kiss to his top of his head. "I know."

"I don't want this splashed all over the news either, you know," he offered, figuring that was an okay place to begin.

"It's not you I'm worried about."

He turned his head as much as he could, twisting his neck around to look at her. "Then what?"

"The paparazzi. Paula. She likes to make a big deal out of everything."

"I can tell her not to."

"But will she listen?" Kate queried.

"She better, because I'm the one who pays her."

She released a slight laugh at that and Castle relaxed at the sound, a sign they were on their way to patching things up.

"I'll make sure she handles it discreetly," he promised.

"Okay. Yeah, okay. I'll go," Kate relented after a moment of contemplation, weighing the outcomes. "And we can release a statement. Just... small, okay?"

He lifted his hand, pulled her down for a kiss. "Of course."

They separated but Kate didn't go far, resting her chin on his shoulder as her eyes squinted to make out the words on the page of the journal that lay in his lap. They didn't look familiar, and she guessed it must be one she hadn't yet read.

Castle seemed to understand what she was doing then, lifted it slightly so she could see more clearly.

"Did I miss any?" she asked.

He shook his head, temple bumping hers slightly. "Nope."

"Okay."

As she read the first bit of the letter, Castle skimmed the sentences to find where he'd left off, finished reading the rest of the entry.

Well, I hope you and Royal are enjoying your evening together. Truth be told, I was kind of enjoying having him at the loft. But I'm glad he's with you now, because now you're not alone. I know, I know, you'd say you don't mind living alone. But still, it's nice to have company. And it makes me feel better, knowing that there's someone or, well, something looking out for you.

You know what, maybe we shouldn't do split custody anymore. Maybe you should just keep him. When I get bored or lonely, I can come over and see him.

(And you, of course, an added bonus!)

I'm pretty sure I could get used to that arrangement. Any excuse to spend more time with you is a valid excuse in my book.

I love you, Kate.

Rick

Kate couldn't help but laugh as she finished reading, because subtlety had never been his strong point when he was there in person, but in these letters, he held nothing back. At times it was sweet, or heartbreaking, or loving. In this case, he was just plain smitten, and it was completely adorable.

"What?" he challenged, but she just shook her head, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Just...you."

Thoughts?