- What? - Beckett hummed softly, and glanced over her shoulder at her buddy with feigned reproach. - Don't look, Castle!
And gracefully stepped from foot to foot: clutching the clasp of her bra, in a graceful, beautiful gesture, her hands came together behind her back, and Castle watched his beloved from their shared bed and saw Beckett through.
So warm and sweet from sleep, with a little damp after a shower steamed skin, she leisurely dressed in his favorite set: soft pink, beige speckled shorts and openwork lace translucent top. In short, an unusually mesmerizing sight: smooth, charming swaying of her hips, falling on the back of the brown tangled strands and firm, neat breasts, which was a pleasure to look at. And at other times he, Castle, would have jumped to the floor, to get attached to the lady of his heart from the back and show her a bright lovemaking mood, but the problem - for one big reason would not work. And this unintentional obstacle was a plastered writer's leg, as well as a mark of his unrivaled prowess and subsequent total bad luck. And even more unlucky was his inability to be present in the station, where, in addition to the fluency of his brain, he needed to move quickly, but then where to put the medical chair? Right, nowhere, and therefore he, Castle, watching Beckett going on duty and can not do anything about it. Bitter forced loneliness, which goes against his hot authorial nature...
Here, speaking of hot: squirming in bed from the growing stirring in his groin, Castle padded a pillow under his back and carelessly covered with a blanket his agitated "friend", while his beloved, already in a blouse and jeans, leisurely defiled from the built-in closet to the dresser.
She sat down on the swivel chair, whipped her hair with both hands, and Rick swallowed convulsively: he watched this picture almost every day, and so he involuntarily caught himself thinking that every, absolutely every movement of Kate was stupefyingly sexy. And how she touched her lips with her fingers, and how she frowned sweetly, and how she put makeup on her face, and how she brushed her hair, confidently untangling the strands, and how her slender but strong fingers grasped an elegant barrette to clip a neat "ponytail" and give Detective Beckett's businesslike appearance a final touch. Lastly, a few drops of cherry "charm" into the hollow of her chest and fleeting, pinpoint touches of her fingers at her temples. So casual, so charming and lovely that Castle closed his eyes dreamily, pulling the sheet taut with clenched fists.
And then his nose sniffed bitter-almond aroma, followed by a slight jolt: it was a lady's hand touched his forehead, and the other gently grabbed the blanket...
- Ouch! - from surprise and "treachery" Castle almost choked. - How...
And stared at his favorite, who leaned over him and smiled so familiarly, so enigmatically.
- Is that what I think it is? - and Beckett bit her lip mockingly. - Poor Castle! How hard it must be to live in the captivity of one's illusions!
And without releasing the grip of her right hand, she crouched on the edge of the bed, at her lover's side and facing him, so that she could see all his grimaces and movements. And Castle fidgeted even more intensely: the ruthless hand Beckett threatened to cross the boundary of permissible, but Castle knew that Beckett's thoughts are already in the station and so just put his hands behind his head - his attempt to maintain equanimity was inimitable...
- You're wrong, Kate, - nevertheless, Castle grimaced, - it's not illusions, but the most real and genuine attraction to the one and only woman for me. And if she were just a little bit more merciful...- Our morning started earlier than usual, Castle, and I've been gracious twice already. And if anyone didn't appreciate that, they'd better take a good hard look at their overindulgences. And while Mr. Writer will dig into himself, his girlfriend and muse will go to work that no one will ever do for her. Am I making myself clear? Castle?!
And she kissed her lover hard, long, passionately on the lips, and immediately, warningly, clapped her friend on the hand that rhythmically ironed the fabric on her chest.
- I get it,- and Castle pressed his lips together resentfully, crossing his arms over his stomach, - Remembering what nerves cost me on the eve of my birthday, I considered and will continue to consider myself involved in everything that has happened, is happening and will happen in the 12th precinct. And it would be unfair to leave me out once again!
- Oh, what an ego! - Beckett threw her hands up in the air. - But Mr. Writer is a bit forgetful - the doctor ordered absolute rest. Just rest and nothing more. And if someone ubiquitous tries to get into the station without asking, - and Kate raised her eyebrow characteristically, - he will immediately lose his other leg. I hope that's clear?
- Uh-huh... - with all his appearance expressing dissatisfaction, Castle turned his back to Kate and lay down on his side. Pulled the blanket over himself, covering his head and at the same time so loudly, so painfully sighed that Beckett could not resist a sad, understanding smile. And to reassure her friend, she gently rubbed his powerful shoulder with her palm.
- Well, don't pout, Castle. Because there is nothing so far that could not do without your participation. And when your girlfriend (on time!) comes home from work, she'll paint you something in all the intimate colors. Okay?
- Deal... - sadly muttered Castle, turning over on the other side, - so it was easier to follow Kate's departure.
After giving him a final kiss, Beckett disappeared out the door, while her friend and partner stayed behind. Now it was time for a little refreshment, and, cursing his own annoying clumsiness, Castle reached for a wheelchair...
A large cup of coffee and a huge piece of cheesecake a little shook the minority on the soul, but everything came back at the first glance at the cast: so inadvertently received injury specifically knocked out of himself, breaking the usual rhythm of life. And Castle felt what it means to be out of the loop. Not to drink coffee next to her, not to "feed the birds" with Ryan and Esposito, not to bet on the outcome of the case, not to laugh with Lanie and not to mock subtly over Perlmutter. And not to listen to the moralizing of Iron Gates, who, over time, slightly slowed down in communication with him, Castle, and now not without reason counted him among her team. And sleepless adrenaline nights, and the white board, and heated arguments over cups of coffee- И... thoughts. Lots of thoughts. About her and Cate's future and Alexis growing up. His mom's latest crush and his pissing match with Gina. The many implausible theories he's come up with and Beckett's ironclad logic, which is hard to argue against. True, they, as well as other spiritually close people, had long been in a period of coherence, lapping each other up, and a fuller, mutual penetration into the hopes and aspirations of the partner, the ability to anticipate dreams and desires. And, most importantly, trust. Trust in investigations and in love, in the smallest everyday situations, which saturates the memory with events and enriches with a variety of emotions. It's like the downhill slide that broke his leg: a languid wait, an emotional slide down and - a well-deserved triumph. An unearthly, rare, long-awaited love, a relationship that has endured for years. After which it would be possible to boast that life was successful ... But not quite: Castle grimaced at the dull pain in his broken leg and, grabbing the rails of the gurney, hurried to the bedroom - somewhere there on the nightstand was a painkiller ...
...the pill didn't work right away, and to distract himself at least a little, Castle put his laptop on his lap. He accessed the hidden section and, after some thought, launched one of the adult videos stored there. Maybe he'd learn something useful from the movie and try it out on Beckett sometime.
Despite the vitality and vividness of the coitus, the hotness and ingenuity of the poses, the author's heart was not relieved, and he was distracted from his gloomy thoughts by a phone call. And, even without looking at the splash screen of the contact, you could guess who was calling.
- Richard Castle here! - importantly chin up pleased Castle, at the same time almost dropped from his lap laptop. - Did everything in the 12th precinct collapsed without me?
- Don't flatter yourself, Castle, - Beckett's voice was dry and businesslike. - And if someone doesn't watch private porn on their laptop, but goes straight to the e-mail link, they can do the 12th's community some good.
- Okay, yeah, but... How did you know? - and his face got all confused.
- I'm a cop, Castle, - Beckett admonished, - but that doesn't get me away from Gates demanding reports from the doorstep.
And then she passed out, and Castle... Rick sat for a moment, looking at the paused picture of someone's juicy ass, and then closed the player with a sigh of deep regret. And then there was mail and a link to a solid archive of photos. It weighed a lot, but the pictures and examination reports had already been sorted into numbered folders, and all I had to do was look through the photos and develop my theories. Especially since a brief description of the case was also attached...
And so a good half of the day passed, at the end of which, in his back and neck, Castle felt an inordinate fatigue. He saved his notes, and then dragged himself to the wheelchair - even despite the limited ability to work, he did not consider himself a freeloader.
And then the path lay straight from the lower bedroom to the kitchen and back again...
After the hunger stopped sucking under the spoon, Castle returned to his room. He had already gone through almost all of the photos, only one small, unremarkable folder remained. And when Castle got into it, the first picture he saw was of Beckett teasing her. In a short skirt and a carmine top, pulled up almost to the nipples, Kate declared herself bold, assertive and shocking. And Castle was ready to swear that he had never seen these photos before, and every candid pose Beckett caused him to drool. Except his inquisitive mind immediately picked up on a discrepancy.
- But where?! But when?! - Castle frantically looked through the photos, hoping to make out the entourage, but except for the quiet purple drapery in the background and under Beckett's feet, he didn't notice anything so defining. And need to know Beckett: those floppy, unimaginably squirmy poses made him naturally throw a fever, and to make some sort of switch, Rick lowered the laptop to the floor and turned on his side and pulled his knees up to his stomach. Self-satisfaction would have been easy, but Rick felt he owed it to the one he'd spent so long and unsuccessfully pursued...
So he lay in the bunk with his hands behind his sinuses and his knees as tightly together as he could. At the same time cursed orthopedists and other doctors, until his back did not let go at all, and Castle did not begin to sink into slumber, until ... Until he woke up to the fact that someone's gentle and affectionate hands stroked his groin.
- Don't look, Castle, don't look, - Kate murmured, gently running her fingers over it. - In the name of memorable and intense sensations, don't look!
- Okay! - Castle swallowed nervously and squeezed his eyes shut, his attuned ears picking up the slightest sound: Beckett's light footsteps, the flick of a light switch, the rustle of her clothes, and the creak of the bed as Kate got close to him. И... immediately got off to a fast start: the elastic band of his boxers snapped dryly, and Rick felt a little freer. And then Kate moved closer to her lover to work wonders with both her mouth and hands. And Castle wheezed and thrashed and sobbed under her sophisticated caress, and when the mattress springs sang under the weight of both of them, no one would say that there were no preferences in his, Castle's, immobile status. Because for him, Castle, in fact, everything had been done to relieve him from loneliness and from boredom. Well, and the intermediate moments - that's what they are intermediate, to connect the brightest phases of their life together ...
And then, when the head of a well-worn Kate firmly established a place on his chest, Castle dared to ask:
- What was that about?
- Where? - Kate didn't even move, lightly ruffling the stiff, curly hairs down his belly. - What are you talking about?
- The pictures!
- Pictures?!
- Yes!
- What's wrong with them?
- Everything!
- What's wrong with them?
- Well, what about the place and time of the shooting, what about the-
And then Kate's body took another position, and her hot palm covered the not too talkative man's mouth.
- Did you do your homework?
- Uh-huh.
- Did you get your reward?
- Uh-huh.
- Well, then don't ask...