"I just want someone to come up to me and say something new."
xxx
What if Gina showed up thirty seconds later at the end of "A Deadly Game"?
"Look... I know that I'm not the easiest person to get to know, and I don't always let on what's on my mind. But this past year, working with you, I've had a really good time."
"Yeah. Me, too," he says with an affectionate smile.
"So, I'm—I'm just gonna say this and...well, um, I broke up with Demming."
"You broke—uh, you…" He coughs, regaining his composure. "Why? What happened?"
Her heart beats hard and fast.
"He's not what I'm looking for right now," she reveals.
"He's not?"
She shakes her head, her gaze suddenly trained to the floor.
"So if that offer for this weekend is still open, I—"
"You want to come...to the Hamptons?"
Why was he making this harder than it already was?
"Is it really so hard to believe?" she asks, looking up at him.
"No, um. I just thought—"
"Richard? You ready?" another voice asks.
A drop-dead gorgeous blonde breezes up to them.
"Um, Beckett, you remember Gina, my ex-wife," Castle stutters.
"And publisher," Gina adds with a simpering smile. A sick feeling grows in the pit of Beckett's stomach. Why the hell was she here?
"Yeah, we spoke the other day. Looks like you finally tracked him down," Beckett manages to say.
"Oh, yeah, he's such a little boy sometimes. I mean, I don't know why. It's not like I bite...much," Gina says with a laugh. Beckett flashes her a polite smile, hiding her disdain. The blonde slips her arm around Castle's back. "But we better get going or we're gonna be stuck in traffic all night."
"Going?" Beckett asks.
"To the Hamptons," Gina replies easily.
Oh, of course. Silly her. Why didn't she think of that?
"Really?" Beckett asks, attempting to keep her composure and doing everything in her power not to look at him, her heart breaking and shattering into pieces. "I'm sorry, I—I didn't think the two of you got along."
"We started talking last night. For hours…just like old times," Gina explains, oblivious to the brewing awkward tension.
"Old times, huh?" Beckett says, finally sparing the writer a glance, more of a glare, really, as if to say Jump in anytime, Writer Boy. "Well, that is just fascinating."
But he's speechless, his mouth partially agape, his eyes ping-ponging between them frenetically.
"Rick, are you alright?" Gina asks, noticing his strange demeanor.
"I, um…" he fumbles, "Gina, do you think we could talk for a second?"
"Don't bother, Castle. You two have fun," Beckett says, fury boiling in her veins. Didn't take him long to find someone else, did it? And not just anyone—no, he asked his ex-wife. Someone with a shared history, a past. Someone harder to dismiss. Not someone like Ellie Munroe.
But she can't really blame him…she kept telling him no after all. It still doesn't stop the swift ache of hurt, the sharp sting of betrayal, or the shame, so hot, that it burns her all over.
"Beckett, wait. Damn it," he calls after her, but she doesn't break her stride and continues to walk away. She needs space. Because she's about to fall apart and she doesn't need witnesses. "Kate," he says, way too close. Why did he always have to follow her? And why did he have to say her name like that? Like a goddamn caress?
She halts by the vending machines and whirls toward him, ready to spew vitriol, but instead, her unshed tears spill over.
"Holy crap," he blurts out. "You're crying," he says, dumbfounded. "You—Kate. I'm sorry. I didn't know."
She quickly wipes at her infernal tears, frustrated that he's seeing her like this, all defenses down. She hates what he does to her. Hates that she's fallen for him. Hates that she took too long to admit it.
"It's okay, Castle. Forget I said anything. It was stupid."
"No, not stupid. Not stupid at all. I'm the stupid one. Please. Let me fix this."
She expels a bitter sigh.
"There's nothing to fix. You should get back to your ex-wife. Wouldn't want to get stuck in traffic."
She makes a move to get by him, but Castle stops her with a hand to her jaw, and before she can fully comprehend his intention, he draws her to him and crashes his lips to hers.
It's passion and fire and everything she suspected it could be ever since their first case together. Better even—every sense overwhelmed, her entire body coming alive under his touch. His mouth leaves hers all too soon, and he's saying something, but she can't process a word, her head spinning and heart thumping loudly in her ears.
"Please, Kate? Give me one minute," she hears after a moment. "It'll just take a minute," he promises.
She nods dumbly, too stunned to respond with anything else. He steals another quick kiss, sweet and tender this time, before disappearing around the corner.
What just happened? She returns to her desk in a daze and watches him lead Gina into the break room.
A hand clamps down on her shoulder and she startles.
"Ow!" she yelps.
"What's going on? Who is that?" Lanie asks in rapid succession.
"His ex-wife. And publisher."
"You're kidding," the medical examiner says with scorn.
"They reconnected last night over the phone, so he invited her to the Hamptons," Beckett tells her offhandedly, her eyes glued to the break room. What the hell was he saying to Gina?
"Oh, Kate. Are you okay, sweetie?"
Beckett's brows cinch together, unsure how to answer. Okay was…not even close.
"He kissed me."
"He, what? Oh my—" Lanie starts with a squeal, only to be interrupted by the break room door crashing open and Gina stalking out, her head held high.
"Gina, I'm sorry," Castle says, chasing after her.
The blonde turns on her heel. "You know what, Rick. I don't think you are. I mean, what was I thinking? You're never gonna grow up, are you?"
"I didn't mean—"
"Save it. Let's just go back to how it was yesterday, okay? Because we both know this was never going to last. Not when you've been hung up on her since the day you met her."
Gina shoots Beckett a pointed look, and the detective ducks her head, her cheeks flaming.
He turned down his ex-wife.
For her.
A fledgling joy spreads wings within her.
The blonde exits without another word, leaving Castle stranded in the middle of the bullpen, a lost lamb.
Lanie nudges her forward.
"What?" Beckett hisses.
"Go get your man," the medical examiner urges.
"He's not—"
Lanie scoffs. "Girl, please."
Beckett drifts toward him, hesitant, and clears her throat.
"Castle?" she prompts gently. He faces her and his tired expression immediately morphs into a joyous one.
"Hi," he says warmly, and she can't help but smile, unable to hide the effect he has on her anymore.
"Hi," she responds softly. "Can we talk? Somewhere private?"
They both glance toward the conference room, where the rest of their team is ogling them. Ryan and Espo both give them a double thumbs up.
"Does that mean they approve?" Castle wonders.
Beckett stifles a laugh.
"Montgomery looks like he's about to pull his piece on you."
"Okay, yeah," Castle says, noticing the Captain's paternal scowl. "We should move somewhere else immediately. Observation okay?"
He launches into an apology the second the door shuts.
"I'm sorry. Obviously, I wish that could've gone differently. I only asked her because I didn't think I had a chance with you," he rushes out, "Please tell me there's still a chance."
She was barely able to muster up the courage to tell him about Demming, but now, in the messy aftermath, any qualms she's been harboring about laying her feelings bare have evaporated along with the departure of his ex-wife.
She steps close to him, and before he can fully register her intention, her arms lace around his neck and she presses her mouth to his, tentative and delicate, in a slow but intense kiss.
"Still a chance," she breathes into him.
"This isn't a dream, right?" he rasps.
She flicks her forefinger into his cheek.
"Ow!" he cries. He rubs his hand over the afflicted area. "I supposed I deserved that."
"You think?" she laughs.
They beam at each other like lovestruck idiots.
"So you'll come to the Hamptons?" he asks.
"I don't know. Can I expect any of your other ex-wives to show up unannounced?"
"No, definitely not," he says hastily, "And there won't be any more robbery detectives wanting to whisk you away for the weekend, will there?"
"No, definitely not," she ensures. God, they were ridiculous. She leans her forehead into his. "I'm sorry, too," she murmurs, "About Tom and pushing you away. I wasn't sure if you were ready for something serious. Especially after Ellie Monroe. I didn't know if it would be worth the risk. He was…nice and safe and I liked him a lot. But…" she cards a hand through the unruly strands of hair that've escaped onto his brow. "He wasn't you," she confesses in a whisper.
"If I had any idea. God, Kate. I never would have—"
"I know."
He deflates, relieved, and cradles her face in his hands like she's something precious. Her heart pulses erratically.
"I'm so ready for something serious with you. So, so ready, Kate. Like you wouldn't believe."
A grin springs across her face, wide and bright, happiness bursting in her chest.
"Hung up on me since the day you met me, huh?"
"As if you haven't had a thing for me this whole time," he rebuts.
"Yeah, if you're calling that thing anger. Or annoyance," she challenges.
"Still angry and annoyed?"
"Yeah, a little bit actually," she says, all mirth.
He tips her chin up and kisses her, confidently and assuredly.
"How 'bout now?" he asks, after parting.
"Less angry. Only kind of annoyed."
He smears another kiss against her lips.
"And now?"
She hums, smudging her smile into his.
"I could use a little more convincing."
A knock from Karpowski interrupts their heavy make-out session. They try to fix their appearances, Beckett hurriedly re-buttoning her white blouse and Castle haphazardly tucking his shirt in, but it does little to quell the heat in their cheeks and the shine in their eyes.
The curly-haired detective casts them a wicked smile when they slip by her.
"Whaddya know," Karpowski tuts, clocking their mussed exteriors, "Guess this means Javi wins the pool."
"Javi bet on us?" Castle asks, but Beckett's yanking him away before he can incriminate them any further. They'd never hear the end of it. "C'mon, I wanna know how much he won," the writer protests.
"Why do people care so much anyway?" she mutters.
"I think it's nice," Castle says, "In a way, they're rooting for us." He gazes at her with unguarded adoration. "I'm rooting for us, too."
She blushes, shyly biting down on her lip.
"Okay, fine. In a way, it is kind of sweet," she concedes, her heart fluttering.
She begins to gather her things from her desk.
"So, pick you up in the morning?" he asks.
"Or you could come by tonight?" she offers coyly. "I'm not sure I know what to pack. Might need some help."
"Oh?" he says, arching an eyebrow. His voice lowers suggestively. "Well, I'll have you know I'm a very good packer. It's all in the roll."
"The roll?" Her mouth quirks and her eyes flick to his lips.
"You know, instead of folding. You roll it all up, so you can fit more inside. Less wrinkles. Trust me, Beckett, I've got the magic touch."
She shoulders her bag and snags his hand with hers, a thrill of anticipation of coursing through her.
"I'll be the judge of that."
A/N: As always, would love to hear your thoughts and if you have any prompt ideas, leave one in the reviews or send me a PM!