They've danced together before. Sort of. He wasn't proud to admit that he just stood there that last time and let her move around in front of him, after all he has been known to cut a pretty decent rug once in a while. But undercover Beckett was often tricky to deal with and he really hadn't wanted to take any chances by putting his hands on any, uh, restricted areas.
Tonight, though... Oh tonight... Tonight, he was going to put his hands on her and he was pretty sure she wasn't going to shoot him for it.
Or as sure as he could be when it came to Kate Beckett.
Especially when the Kate Beckett in question had her hands flat against his chest, whose fingertips were pressing – no, scratch that – caressing his silk shirt. Or perhaps the muscles under his silk shirt. He took a chance, figuring that the waist isn't a restricted area, and snaked his hands around to her back, pulling her to him. As their bodies connected, from shoulder to knee and every millimetre in between, he felt rather than heard her sharp intake of breath, and there was no mistaking the way her eyes widened momentarily. And there was no mistaking that his response was the same.
She knew this was a bad idea. As soon as she stepped into his space and took the glass from his hand, she knew. And yet, there they were, bodies pressed to one another in public when she just wished they were somewhere else, somewhere private. Her own apartment would be ideal, in fact.
She slowly reached her arms around his neck and pressed her chest to his as she rose up to speak into his ear. She felt his fingers flex across the satiny material of her dress and she faltered, her breath spilling over his neck.
"Kate..." he whispered in her ear, and though she couldn't hear him over the music she felt the consonants, responded in a minute way that only he would notice. "Kate," he repeated, louder this time as he continued, "Let's get out of here."
She nodded, the tiniest nod in the history of silent affirmatives but it's all he needed. As he moved away, she felt the sudden loss of his body against hers more acutely than she would ever admit, but she was certain it wouldn't be long until he was back where he belongs, by her side, in her arms, between her legs.
How she has longed for him.
She pulled her phone out from her bra and texted Lanie, Going home – call you tomorrow. She held it in her hand until she got to the cloakroom, putting it in her purse as he grabbed her coat and then clutched her free hand, clasping it as tightly as she was clasping his.
He waved down a cab and was overcome with the strangeness of the situation, how it didn't feel all that strange at all. It was inevitable, him and Kate. Like moths to each others flames.
"Where to, folks?"
At least the cabbie was friendly. He looked to her with a small smile as she answered with her address and they lapsed into a charged, yet easy, silence for a while. Their fingers were still intertwined and neither wanted to be the first to untangle them. He began to ghost a trail over the back of her hand with his thumb and she watched the movement, entranced and hypnotised until the cab came to a halt and she had to relinquish his hand so he could get his wallet.
She got out of the cab and plucked her keys from her purse as she waited for Rick to join her on the sidewalk. They walked up to her building side by side, shoulders brushing until they reached the door.
"Castle..." Apprehensively, she looked over to her partner. His hands were buried in his pockets and he looked worried... no, wait, not worried. More like nervous. Huh. "Castle," more determined this time, and he finally made eye contact. "Are you okay?" He looked at his shoes again, so she reached out to gently press her fingers to the crook of his elbow. "Rick?"
Suddenly, as if her words had unlocked the last barrier in his mind, he tugged his hands from his pockets and planted them firmly on her hips as he pressed her against the brickwork by the door. He crowded her body with his and didn't second guess himself as he leaned over to kiss her. Kate's lips were parted on a gasp and he couldn't stop the moan that rumbled through his chest when her tongue touched his. He felt her arms winding around his shoulders and the cold sharpness of her keys tickled at his neck.
She moved back a little, her eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks as she whispered against his lips, "Let's go upstairs."
She wondered if they'd gone back in time when they were in the elevator. They hadn't stood this far apart in enclosed spaces since he'd first started shadowing her. But she knew he was trying to keep in control of his own actions, and she was glad of his self-restraint. She really didn't want one of her neighbours finding them crawling up one another if the doors opened earlier than expected.
But seriously, could this elevator be any slower?
Kate was nearly growling by the time the doors finally opened on her floor and she lunged out of them as soon as the gap was wide enough for her to fit through. Rick trailed along behind, a smug smirk on his face, glad he wasn't the only one desperate for some privacy. He caught up with her at her front door, crowding her again as she fumbled with the keys, his hands braced either side of the door frame. It took almost all she had not to drop the keys and turn around into his embrace.
As she opened her front door, her phone chimed. She retrieved the device from her purse on auto-pilot, thumbing over the screen to read the new message from Lanie. You got Castle with you? Kate raised an eyebrow at that, and inclined her head to the side a little. Rick peered over her shoulder. "How are you going to answer?" She almost turned her head entirely to peer at him in disbelief, but knew that if she didn't reply to Lanie all hell would break loose in the morning. So she shifted her weight over to one hip as she thought about it, and then quickly tapped her answer. We left at the same time. Sorry for skipping out early on you, it's been a long week. I'll call tomorrow.
"Subtle, detective... I'd be worried you're ashamed of me if I didn't know any better." Kate put her phone and purse down on the side table by the door before she turned and put her hands on his shoulders, regarding him solemnly.
"Rick, I would never be ashamed of you." She allowed him a couple of seconds triumph before continuing, "Your occasionally infuriating antics, however..." She slid her hands from his shoulders up to cup his jaw, her thumbs tracing symmetrical patterns over his skin as she held his gaze. She wanted to say more, she always wanted to say more, but words were his and she felt hers to be inadequate in comparison.
"Someone has to keep you on your toes, Beckett." He pulled her to him, lifting almost her entire weight so she was really on her toes. She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek to his. She was relieved, thankful, and giddy to be finally taking the next step, and judging by the grin she could feel against her face, he was feeling the exact same way.
"Not that hugging in the foyer of my apartment isn't great, but why don't we move this to the sofa?" He let her gently slip down to the floor again with a quiet smile that made his eyes sparkle in the dim light. It was dazzling, the way his love for her poured out from those eyes, and she wondered how she could have denied herself this for so long.
He gently threaded his fingers through hers and let her lead the way across the apartment, biting his lip as she would when she dropped her eyes from his gaze with a blush rising over her cheeks. They sat in unison, their knees knocking together. He tipped her chin up with his free hand and gave her a cheeky grin.
"We could always just cuddle, Beckett..."
A/N: unexpectedly got this finished tonight. This is the end. Whatever happens next you will have to make up, because I don't want to write anything explicit (well, I don't want to publish anything explicit...).
