Kate Beckett is floating, tingling from her fingers all the way up to her neck, pleasant heat rolling off her in waves as she leans against the marble wall. The skin tight material of her dress dips low against her back and the vast expanse of her alcohol-warmed skin welcomes the contrast of the cool surface
Happiness bubbles through her body unbidden. She cracks a smile at nobody in particular, unable to hide the euphoria that spreads through her entire body. She's had a lot of fun tonight, thanks to her partner and thinking about him sends pleasant bubbles along her spine, much like the bubbles in the champagne she'd been drinking all night.
From the moment Castle had picked her up and ushered her into the fancy stretch limousine, she'd been feeling a strange exuberance; giddy with glee. Conversation had been easy between them all night, light with familiar banter, laced with a hint of casual flirting and loaded glances that had sent her blood thrumming through her veins.
Even now, hours later, she's still trying to calm her thundering heart, feeling like she's no longer in control of any part of her body. Her heart flutters with pleasure as she catches a glimpse of her partner making his final rounds among the guests, bidding them goodbye.
She finally pushes off the wall and stalks towards him, confident enough now that she's had a few minutes to collect herself. She can probably walk in a straight line. Maybe. Castle really splurged on the good stuff for the event and she'd knocked back more than a few flutes of champagne while she flit from one guest to another as Castle introduced her.
The ballroom is almost empty, the jazz band is packing up and the catering crew are shooting her dirty looks, as if their stares will scare her into leaving. She rolls her eyes as she passes them, ignoring the slew of disgruntled mumbling directed at her. She's not leaving yet, not without Castle – she has plans for him tonight.
She catches up to him as he pauses at the bar, chatting animatedly to Ryan and Esposito; wow, both men had cleaned up very nicely for the event. She gives them a small wave as she approaches and slides into the space next to her partner, grinning at him.
"I had a good time tonight, Castle."
She doesn't know if she's slurring her words, but she probably is judging from the wide-eyed bewilderment on her co-workers faces. She can't seem to bring herself to care. She's happy and nothing they do or say will change that.
"You certainly look like you had a good time," Castle says as his hand grazes her cheek, his forefinger twirling a strand of hair that dangles loose from her sleek up-do. "Are you feeling alright?"
Beckett nods, rolling her eyes at his unwarranted concern. It warms her to see how much he cares, tendrils of heat curling around her heart and spreading outwards to the tips of her fingers. She's playing with fire, allowing her walls to crumble at her feet, with Castle on the other side wielding the metaphorical sledgehammer responsible for its destruction.
It starts to get a little overwhelming so she tilts back, trying to put some space between them. Unfortunately, she overestimates her own soberness and she stumbles, swaying precariously on her heels. Castle lunges after her, a strong arm banding around her back as he chuckles into her hair, inexplicably closer to her now than before.
She gasps, fingers curling around his biceps as she regains her balance. She shudders as the scruff of his jaw swipes a broad stroke across her cheek. She blushes and sticks her tongue out at Castle's knowing smirk, pushes him away with a teasing grin.
"Uh, okay, maybe I'm a little tipsy. Just a little."
She hears the contained laughter of both Ryan and Esposito and she leans to the side, glaring at them from over Castle's shoulder. She narrows her eyes and they stop abruptly, schooling their features as she continues staring at them until they mumble their goodbyes and depart.
"Can't let them have even a little bit of fun, huh, Beckett?"
She shakes her head and laughs, free and easy. "Not at my expense, if they know what's best for them," she says, scrunching up her nose at their retreating backs.
Returning her gaze to Castle, she drinks him in, from his perfectly coiffed hair to the way his shoes shine bright under the twinkling lights in the ballroom. He's smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight, probably amused by her current inebriated state.
She scoffs at him but says nothing. She is drunk, and after all he's done for her, after everything tonight, she'll allow it. Dealing with the playful glint in his eye is the very least she can do.
The least, yes. But she can and wants to do so much more.
It's been simmering beneath the surface for hours, desperate longing staining every interaction she's had with him. But they'd mixed and mingled, chatted with so many people that night that they haven't had a moment to themselves for her to do anything except be perfectly friendly. Now however, the ballroom is blissfully empty and the silence gives her the surge of confidence she's been waiting for.
She licks her lips and buoyed by liquid courage, she takes the plunge. "Lets get outta here, Castle."
Castle raises his eyebrows at her question, the underlying implication that they'd be leaving together not lost on him. He doesn't say a word and instead offers the crook of his arm out to her. She takes it, sliding her fingers up his forearm, slipping it into the welcome space, folding into his embrace.
"Take me home, Castle."
They stumble into her apartment, tripping over the door mat, laughing at nothing in particular. The front door swings shut and Beckett collapses against it, lifting a foot to undo the straps of her heels. Her fingers feel fat and clumsy and she curses as the leather strap refuses to budge. Castle removes his tuxedo jacket, smoothes it over the back of her couch and turns around with an amused smile.
"Need some help with that, drunky?"
She glares at him as the strap finally gives and the beautiful gold Manolo Blahnik falls onto the floor. "No," she mutters. "But be useful and make us some coffee, will you? Please?"
Castle chuckles and nods, mock saluting her as he makes his way into the kitchen. She hears him puttering around, humming to himself in delight and she can't help the jealousy that settles within her. Seriously, how is it that he's completely sober and she … isn't?
She growls in disdain and makes her way to her couch, falling into it with a huff. She tilts her head over the back of the couch and closes her eyes, allowing herself to relax, letting the euphoria of the night wash over her. She's sobered up a little, feels a lot better than she did back at the ballroom, but she's still a little out of it.
"You're not asleep are you?"
Beckett opens her eyes and sits up, holding back the groan that threatens to fall from her lips. Castle's sitting in front of her, making himself comfortable on her coffee table, holding up a mug of what smells like-
"Chocolate? I thought I said coffee, Castle?"
"Ah, no. I figured a cup of my special hot chocolate would be better at this time of the night, don't you think?"
He wiggles the cup in front of her, teasing as the smell wafts into the air. It does smell delicious, thick and rich, with a hint of peppermint. Beckett eventually nods and wraps both hands around the warm mug. Her fingers slide around his as she takes it from him, and a jolt of fire and electricity causes her eyes to dart to his, widening in surprise.
His fingers are still trapped beneath hers as she lifts the mug to her mouth and takes her first sip, relishing the taste on her tongue. She doesn't lose eye contact with him as she swallows, well aware of the fact that he can't move his hand without dislodging the mug from her grasp. She's playing a very dirty game, toeing the line of indecency as she tugs the mug to her lips again, pulling him closer as she gulps down another mouthful.
She notices his pupils following the movement of her lips, tracking downward as she allows the smooth chocolatey goodness to slide down her throat. She moans in delight and savors the taste, her tongue darting out to catch the chocolate remaining on her lips.
"Uh…"
She opens her eyes at his silent exclamation and she finds herself staring into his, dark and stormy. They're wide and dilated, almost black with … oh God. He … he's aroused.
Okay. That was unexpected. She only meant to tease but the look he's giving her is downright feral, animalistic and maybe - just maybe she's gone too far this time. She blinks, unfamiliar with the intensity and leans forward to leave the mug on the coffee table. The movement places her at an awkward angle, his arms twisted to the side as they're still clasped around the now empty mug.
She's about to move, say something, anything. She inhales, prepares herself to-
Castle clears his throat then, slips his hand from hers in haste and Beckett feels a sudden shift in the mood. He runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the immaculate do he'd worn for the night. There's a twitch in his eye, and he's looking around at everything but her. His foot starts to tap a strange repetitive rhythm on the hardwood floor and she reaches her palm out on instinct, rests it on his knee to still it.
She tries again, "Castle, I think-"
"Oh, your guitar! Are you any good?" Castle cuts her off, a panicked look in his eyes. He stands up and picks up the guitar resting on the side of the table. He settles back on the couch next to her, presumably so he didn't have to stare straight at her.
"I'm okay. I'm not a rock star or anything," she says, disappointed at the sudden turn of events. Still, Castle doesn't seem to want to leave just yet so she grants him an olive the night can still be salvaged. "Want me to teach you?"
Castle flicks his eyes at her and grins, boyish endearment flashing across his face. "Yes, please!"
Beckett nods and shifts, turns sideways and crosses her legs on the couch so she faces him side on. She leans over, careful not to overextend herself lest she falls all over him, and her fingers wrap around his on the neck of the guitar.
She can smell him; cologne and aftershave permeating her senses. Her cheek grazes his jaw as she manipulates his digits to form a C chord. She feels her heartbeat pick up, their close proximity doing things to her body that she's not quite ready to acknowledge just yet.
"That's a C chord," she breathes out, leaning back, easing away from him. "Now strum."
Oh, God. She grits her teeth at the resulting sound, jarring and loud, an unpleasant echo through her apartment.
"No, no stop!"
She bursts into a fit of giggles, peals of laughter wracking her body as Castle stares at her, nonplussed and unamused. He narrows his eyes at her and huffs. "Hey, don't be mean. I've never played before!"
Beckett ignores his whining and picks up a remote from her coffee table, flicking at buttons until the soft dulcet tones of a country number ripples around them. "This is what it's meant to sound like, Castle," she says amidst the laughing.
She turns back to look at him, wants to make sure she hasn't hurt his feelings but blinks in surprise as she doesn't see him on the couch. What, where-
His hand appears before her and she follows the limb up to his face, standing tall next to her. She scrunches her eyebrows at him, but takes his hand anyway. She lifts to her feet as he tugs, pulls her in close and wraps himself around her.
His hand leaves hers but before she can protest he slides it around her back, the warmth of his palm settling on her bare back, while the other rests low on her hip.
"I can't play music, but I sure can dance. Dance with me, Beckett," he says, his voice husky in her ear. It's as if the mishap with her guitar had diffused the uneasiness from earlier and the tension is back in full force, untapped passion crackling between them . The nervousness from before has disappeared, the twitch in his eyes replaced with confidence that Beckett approves of.
"Why, Castle?" she teases, even as she melts into his embrace, her arms curling around his neck, fingers toying with the hairs she finds there. "You didn't step foot on the dance floor all night, Castle. Turned down all the women clamoring for your attention."
He grunts, smiling around the brightness in his eyes, moving in time to the gentle crooning from her speakers. His hand slides from her back to her neck, burning a trail of need and want all the way up to her cheek where his palm finally stills. He cocks his head to the side, studying her as they sway on the spot.
She licks her lips again, a grin forming on her mouth. She raises her eyebrows, silently daring him to make a move. She's waited for this all night; a quiet moment alone with her partner, and now she has it. She runs a finger from his nape along his jaw, rests it against the corner of his mouth. He shivers and she feels it traveling through her - good, he's clearly as affected by this as she is. She lets out a throaty chuckle and winks. "What's wrong, Castle? Cat got your tongue?"
"Well, Beckett," he whispers, face dangerously close to hers, lips barely inches away for her own. "If you must know, the truth is ... "
He releases her, extends his arms into their full reach and she spins out, laughing as she splays her arms wide and twirls back into his arms.
"Truth is, I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you."
And then he kisses her.
END
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