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A one time thing
Chapter Eight - Just tonight
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If it only takes a moment for your life to change forever, can a 'one time thing' right the wrong? An AU Caskett meeting.
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Closing the bathroom door, Kate cringes; the click of metal sliding into place is more crashing of bells than tinkering of chimes. Rick's hotel room is quiet considering its location; New York doesn't sleep but thankfully he still does.
The majority of his long, naked body remains concealed under the comforter he'd pulled over them after they'd fallen into bed. Cocooned in its warmth they had whispered of the past, their hidden secrets, before falling asleep entwined. Sadly, her need for the bathroom had broken through her dreams, and now, as her bare back leans heavily on the door, a decision needs to be made.
She should go home. She should use the cover of darkness to slip away from what they'd - silently - agreed would just be one night. One night, before they become work partners again.
Only work partners.
Or does she crawl between the sheets, take all she can from the last few hours she will ever have in his arms? This will be the last time the heat of his skin will keep her warm, and it will most certainly be the last time the fullness of his lips will brush against her own.
She's lying next to him before a conscious decision is reached, and it's too late, too early in the morning really, to be concentrating on what it means. Exhaustion is heavy in her bones as her body sinks into the mattress, her right side nestling into the luxurious sheets.
Her breathing becomes deeper, each exhale spaced a little further apart than the last, and as sleep begins to take hold, so does Rick.
Tugging the comforter up with one hand, he pulls it across her body once more, before enveloping her inside his arms, tucking her into his chest, a kiss against her forehead.
The last sound she hears before her dreams begin is the steady beat of his heart.
Daylight fights against his closed eyelids and with a huff Rick concedes defeat, opens them to squint around his hotel room until his gaze falls onto the perfectly sculptured back of his partner. Kate's sitting on the edge of the bed, turned away from him, apparently ready to leave, and it's like their first night together - their first morning - all over again.
He asked for one night, a night that is over, but still, his arm stretches across the empty sheets, fingertips ghosting across her glorious skin. Does the night need to end so soon?
"Hey." Angling toward him, she greets him softly, and he smiles in reply while his hand cups the curve of her hip. He tugs gently, but she's already indicating no; adorably messy curls cascade across her shoulders as she shakes her head, and he strains the muscles of his arm in order to reach higher, capturing a ringlet in his palm.
"I have to go home. I need to get dressed."
"I can make pancakes first?" He asks, won't plead, but breakfast will extend their bubble before reality breaks it apart.
As if an hour or two will make it easier.
How's he meant to turn off the growing emotions that surge when he touches her? The rapid beat of his heart as her eyes met his.
This was never supposed to happen.
Her hand encircles his wrist before her fingers trace lines along his forearm, past his biceps and shoulders, until, as she reaches his throat and the scattering of stubble, she stops.
Her focus is not on him though, not even on her own fingers, and he lets go of her hair to catch the ring that is swaying between her breasts.
It breaks the spell that had seized her, and, placing her chin on her chest, she looks down, her hand falling away from his neck to cover where his thumb warms the metal.
"Sorry, Rick. I should have taken it off. It probably scratched you."
His fingers turn the band until the diamond stands proud, acquires all their attention.
"It's your Mom's? Her wedding ring?"
"Yes."
"Then you should never take it off. Unless you feel ready to."
Her head jerks up, eyes meeting his, and he sees a tear perch itself on the edge of her eyelashes. Capturing it with his thumb, he brings his hand to his lips, tastes the salt before moving back to her, brushing the high ridge of her cheek, kissing her better.
If only it were that simple.
"Thank you. But I still have to go home. I have no clean clothes left at work."
He chuckles a little at that, doesn't ask if there are dirty ones, if her infamous blue dress is now residing at the bottom of her locker.
"Rain check then?"
Lifting an eyebrow, her expression clearly reminds him that this was it. That this has to be it. And he tries again.
"A rain check on breakfast. My treat."
Nodding, her lips tug in the corner, before she smiles, her mouth drawing wide until he is bestowed with dazzling white teeth.
Oh, he aches for her, and the knowledge that their final kiss was just one of many last night hurts too much, is not sacred enough. It should have its own moment.
Pulling himself up, he lets go of her ring to entwine his fingers in her hair, his mouth brushing against hers. She opens her lips, her tongue seeking access and he draws her inside. If this has to be the last time, then he is going to capture every sensation; the taste of her, the smell, the way his fingers itch to write all the ways she brings fire to his blood, until he is sure that he will boil under her touch.
She leaves him, before returning, dotting a tender kiss onto his lips, and he tells himself that it's because it is destroying her just as much as it is him. That losing contact with each other is so painful that she has no choice but to return for one more.
"I'll see you at work, Ri- Castle."
Right. Work. Castle and Beckett. It's time they worked on finding their stride at the precinct. Time to be partners.
Rick drags the mug reluctantly to his nose, takes a sniff, before dropping it to the counter in disgust. It doesn't matter how many times over the last few weeks he has tried to force himself to drink the stuff; after the third or so sip, his stomach protests, violently.
"Finish up, Castle. You have paperwork to do." Beckett's head pokes around the break room's door and he looks up to smile sweetly at her. Yeah. That sounds like fun.
"Any way I could convince you to do my half?" He wiggles his eyebrows, his grin changing into a smirk, and she rolls her eyes in reply. Although, as he adds this to memory, the way she rolls her eyes now, compared to when he first witnessed it, has undergone a softening. There's no shoulder hitch, no strain to her lips; these days he swears he can see a mischievous glint, as if it's more for show than because she is actually annoyed at him.
"When hell freezes over, Castle." Okay. So he is probably still irritating her, but there was definitely a fleeting upturn of her mouth, he's sure of it.
"Well, I did grab a scarf this morning so…" He stands still as her eyes slide down his chest, despite the fact that the scarf in question is draped over the back of his chair.
Damn. He misses her.
"Do you want to go out for drinks later?" Her wayward gaze snaps up to his face, eyes widening before she glances quickly around the bullpen. Stepping into the break room properly, her mouth opens, no doubt to shoot his question down in flames and he jumps in before she gets the chance. "We should celebrate."
It brings her up short, her expression contorting in confusion. "Celebrate what?"
"Closing our fifth case together."
"Seriously?" The exasperation in her tone, the way her eyebrows jerk higher, her arms crossing her chest, stirs the ignored desire within him, makes acting professional almost impossible.
Reaching toward her, his hand slides across the material that covers her hip. He edges up, her shirt hiding his intentions, until his thumb reaches her smooth abdomen, and, using the flat line of his nail, he rakes across her skin.
"Don't you want to celebrate how well we work together?"
He's crossing a line. He's crossing the line, but they've been so well behaved and with another case behind them, the need to see her outside of work gives him the courage to misplace his position. He's not asking for that much.
"We should celebrate! You guys are great together." Ryan's interruption from the doorway has him hastily stepping away from Beckett. His fingers leave the warmth of her skin as he shoves both hands into the front pockets of his pants, with any luck discreetly concealing the growing problem he has.
Damn her and her ability to make him lose all common sense.
Ducking her head down, Kate pivots, walks over to the where he'd left his coffee, and, grasping the mug with both hands, she lifts it high, masking her face. The flush of pink tinting her skin tells him that she interpreted Ryan's statement the same way that he did. They really are great together – in every sense.
"Do you know any good places, Ryan?" With any luck he can distract the younger man from their reactions, get him thinking of something else besides the surging blood that's giving them both problems, and it seems to be working, because Ryan nods thoughtfully.
"I really liked going to that place, where we had that case. Oh, The Old Haunt."
He makes a choking noise as Ryan's suggestion hits him. His photo is up on a wall there. It was where he wrote his first novel, and while the picture is old, it's still a worry.
"It's a shame that place got taken over, I do love a good, old fashion bar." Montgomery strides through the other door, catches the three of them by surprise, although only the two of them react to hide their secret, Ryan merely nods in agreement.
Taking a sideways step, Castle positions his body behind a stool. He's gotten himself, and what was an expanding issue, under control, but the near miss is making him a little paranoid, and he's not the only one. Beckett's now searching through the fridge and he would bet a round of drinks that she's using the cool air to calm the blush that is heating her cheeks.
"Wait." Ryan lifts a hand for apparent effect. "I know where we can go for drinks."
Resting back against the booth, Kate smiles to herself, enjoying the quiet for a moment, the boys all having left to yell at the screen above the bar. They're only on the third round but tonight has been good, just what she needed to release some of the tension that has been settling on her shoulders of late. It's not anything specific, indeed, everything at work has been better than ever. The team's closure rate is apparently higher by the amount of eighteen percent, or so Montgomery exclaimed as he bought them their first round, but…
Something's missing, he's-
A hand drifts over her knee, inches high, and she doesn't need to look to see who it is. Speak of the devil.
"You look well and truly relaxed there, Detective." His nose nudges her hair back, makes room so he can use his lips to brush along the slope of her ear and she holds herself as still as possible.
She will not react.
She will not grab a fist full of his shirt and drag his fine ass through the nearest exit. Will not shove him into the nearest alleyway and most definitely not fuck his brains out, removing any trace of the smirk that is no doubt adorning his ruggedly handsome face.
"I'm not interrupting you two, am I?"
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All the chocolate Easter eggs will be showered over all of you. I really appreciate all the goodies that were showered upon me!
Thank you xoxo
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As always Jo and Jamie all the Lindt bunnies that are left are coming your way ;-) thank you for the beta!
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Thank you for reading xoxo