I was asked to write the 7x07 (Once Upon a Time In The West) storyline, but make it pre-Caskett.
I don't know when this is set, probably early S4 because I used Gates but let's pretend Castle never confessed his love to Beckett.
He couldn't believe that Gates had sided with him.
Him! Of all people! And his stupid idea (not in his opinion, obviously) was actually approved by the buzz-killing, writer-hating Iron Gates.
Sure, he had to front the costs of the unorthodox undercover adventure but that was a small price to pay. Not only did he get to play pretend and live out all his Wild West cowboy dreams, but he got to do it all with Kate - uh, Beckett - by his side!
She may not have been overly enthusiastic about it - that much was evident - but he was certain she would come around, certain that the magic of the Diamondback Old West Ranch could - and would - win her over!
It seemed that as well as having Gates on his side, fate was along for the ride too when James Grady told them there was a mix up and they had only booked one room... a single room with a twin bed. His joke about being a cuddler was severely under appreciated, but given that she wasn't exactly here of her own volition, he could excuse her temporarily-unable-to-be-located sense of humour.
The old Beckett, the funny, playful, not threatening to shoot him every other minute Beckett would he back soon enough. He hoped.
Again, her lack of enthusiasm seemed evident as she shyly stepped out of the dressing room, arms crossed down her body as if she were trying to discreetly hide as much of it away as possible. He had to bite his tongue, stop himself from spewing out the first thoughts that popped into his head because he could almost guarantee they would not be received well. But still, some completely out of pocket comment about his fantasies coming true managed to stumble from him before he could even stop it.
He thought for sure he was a dead man but, if he didn't know better, he could have sworn he saw her... blush?
He forced himself to look away before he had a chance to say something else, to push his luck entirely and make her uncomfortable. But he couldn't stop himself from glancing back, again and again, trying to memorise every detail of her.
The way her curls fell from under her cowboy hat, the relaxed collar of her shirt, the jeans, the chaps... oh boy, the leather fringe chaps.
He was relieved when she insisted they go directly to their room; he needed to splash some cold water on his face or something because this was not okay! He had to rein it in, keep his cool, stop practically drooling over his partner who had no interest whatsoever in him.
"You have got to be kidding me," she groaned as she looked around the room.
There was one bed, they knew that, but what they didn't expect was the lack of absolutely everything else. Apart from the tiny, rickety twin bed pushed against the wall, there was a small table, two dining chairs and what could - with a few light embellishments - be described as a kitchenette.
There wasn't even an uncomfortable armchair that he could offer to sleep in, insisting until they eventually agreed that two grown adults could share a bed without it having to be awkward, even though they both knew it would be awkward.
He knew she wouldn't force him to sleep on the hard wooden floorboards. She might not like him in the way he wished she would, but she cared enough to share the bed. He had warned her - albeit, in the form of a joke - that he was a cuddler, so surely he couldn't be held accountable if they were to wake in each others arms. What one does in their sleep is completely involuntary, right?
But his mind was painting a picture for him, a picture he thought was beautiful, magical. Kate Beckett, waking up wrapped in his arms and, instead of jumping from the bed, instead of pushing him away and being upset, she'd snuggle in and pretend to be asleep so that they could stay exactly how they were for just a little while longer.
This scene was too clichéd, even for the likes of one of his books, but his inner hopeless romantic had already clung to the minuscule sliver of hope that their real life one bed trope situation had provided.
He needed to chill, needed to abandon these rose coloured glasses before he took this too far, before his genius, Gates approved plan become nothing more than a nightmare situation for him. He couldn't keep dreaming up scenarios that were only going to leave him disappointed.
"I need a bathroom," he sighed, stepping further into the room.
Water. He needed cold water and he needed it splashed in his face, pronto.
He strode toward the only other door in the room, hoping it wasn't a closet. Surely a communal bathroom would have been mentioned. He pulled the door open, shutting it again almost instantly.
"You okay?" He heard Beckett ask.
He didn't want to answer, didn't want to tell her that this experience was only getting worse. He took a deep breath, braced himself for whatever reaction she may have.
"I don't know if it is part of the package but there's a cowboy in our bathroom."
He turned to face her, was met by narrowed eyes. He gave an apologetic smile, pulling the door open once more.
Her eyes widened as she took in the man standing in their bathroom. Her eyes travelled down, then back up again, and she smiled once her gaze met the mystery man's. And suddenly, Castle's rose coloured glasses seemed and awfully dark shade of red.
The man introduced himself as Tobias, practically launching himself across the room to shake Kate's hand. That's how she introduced herself, as Kate, with an unexpected and totally unnecessary hair twirl.
He wasn't jealous. Just... surprised.
But Tobias turned out to be useful. He had actually gotten to know Whitney - their victim - pretty well in the short amount of time they'd spent together.
Castle took a backseat as Beckett engaged in conversation over coffee. Watching, waiting, not at all fuming or stewing in some completely unfounded jealousy.
"I'm surprised they allowed Whitney to stay so close to menfolk," he blurted, trying to keep a casual air to his tone. "You know, given how things were back in the day. Sharing a bathroom surely wouldn't have been deemed appropriate. Isn't this place all about authenticity?"
Tobias smiled. "They're letting you two share a room," he said, waving his finger between Beckett and Castle. "I don't see a ring."
Tobias looked at Beckett, smile still holding firm.
"What's he waiting for?"
"Oh!" Beckett laughed. Too hard, honestly. "We aren't- just friends. This was the only room available," she explained with a shrug.
"The laugh was a little unnecessary," Castle muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Beckett.
"Relax, Cowboy, she's not my type and neither was Whitney. So, no, no one had an issue with us sharing the Jack and Jill bathroom."
Castle looked at Beckett, who was giving him her best 'you idiot' glare.
"Just friends," was all Castle managed to say, a weak attempt to save face.
Hog-tying. Castle was learning to play the harmonica and she was hog-tying.
Not exactly her idea of a good time.
Hog-tying class, with Tobias, however. That seemed... slightly more enjoyable.
She couldn't fault the man's intrigue for this place; he seemed to fully emerge himself in every aspect of this life and it looked as though he genuinely enjoyed learning everything he could here.
His boyish enthusiasm reminded her a lot of Castle and she couldn't help but think of how much fun the two would probably have together, had Castle been in this class too.
But no, he was off doing God knows what while she was... tying hogs. Pretend hogs, but still...
She stood, straightening and stretching out her back after having been hunched over the props for too long. She reminded herself that she wasn't actually here to learn, but to try and find their mystery married man - tall, dark and handsome, apparently. She scoped the room, eying the red bandanas in search for the men Castle had narrowed their search down to.
"You know, if you say you need help one of 'em will come over," Tobias commented with a smirk.
"I'm just looking."
"Looking for what?" He stood, raised his eyebrows to accentuate his question.
She smiled, shrugged nonchalant. "Wedding band, I guess."
Tobias dropped his jaw. "No," he whispered, swatting at her playfully. "You might be firmly in the we're just friends camp but that boy is into you, like really into you, and if you start messing around with other people you are going to break his poor little heart!"
"I assure you, he's not into me," she said with a smile.
Tobias sighed. "Fine. The tall one is a waste of your time; you are no more his type than you are mine, you know? The other two are single and, as far as I know, straight."
"Thank you," she said with a smile, keeping up the charade.
"Look, if you're going to break Rick's heart can you at least do me a favour and let him know my door is always open if he needs a shoulder to cry on?"
She let out small laugh. "I'll be sure to let him know. But I promise you, there will be no broken hearts," she added quickly.
When Castle had told her he almost ended up in a fist fight, she wasn't surprised. Dragged out of the saloon by the collar of his shirt... she kind of wished she had been there to see it. Now that she knew he was fine, of course.
But even with having pissed off the guy they had been looking for, he managed to find out useful information. It was uncanny how Castle managed to do that - simultaneously mess things up and crack the case wide open.
He stood lookout for her while she used the key that had been found on Whitney to unlock the shed door. When the lock opened with ease, she flashed a victorious smile at Castle and watched his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning.
It was a little bit exciting - the possibilities of what they could possibly find behind locked doors - but she could never admit that to Castle. She could never admit that she was adjusting to the new attire, the lingo and charm of the rustic little ranch. And she could never, not even on her deathbed, admit that she was just a little bit glad that she was here with him.
They didn't know exactly what they were looking for, but it didn't take them long to find it. Within just a few minutes, Beckett uncovered crates of dynamite, wrapped in what they could only assume was the same wax-covered cardboard that Lanie found traces of on Whitney.
They heard footsteps outside the shed, triggering Castle's fight or flight mode - or, more accurately, his flight mode. He grabbed Beckett by the elbow, dragging her out of the shed. With him panicking and hurrying her, she fumbled clumsily with the lock.
"Hurry up," he whispered, harshly.
"I'm trying!" She pulled her arm from his grasp, his fingers pressing into her bicep proving to be more distracting than anything.
The approaching footsteps - highlighted by the metallic clicking of spurs on the boots - grew closer, quickly, and Castle's panic rubbed off on her, seeming to abolish any sense of calm she would usually have in this situation.
"Don't shoot me," he whispered, right as she clicked the lock into place.
But it was too late, his hands were on her, spinning her to face him and pushing her against the shed door.
She was pinned under his body, his eyes burning into her and before she knew it his mouth was on hers.
She froze, the breath stolen from her lungs, but once she realised what was happening she relaxed into him. This wasn't their first rodeo when it came to undercover kissing; she knew what she had to do to be convincing and she really didn't have any qualms about being an enthusiastic participant in this. It was, after all, just a part of the job.
Or, at least, that was what she would tell herself.
Her hands curved around his neck, pulling him in and deepening their kiss. He wasted no time, moving his hands over her hips, caressing her sides.
Butterflies took flight deep in the pit of her stomach when he traced his tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her for more.
She was so ready to give him exactly that.
"Yeah, just friends my ass." Tobias laughed.
Castle pulled away and she had to refrain from leaning into him, from wanting more.
She leant back against the shed door, trying to even out her breathing and steady the racing of her heart. She traced her thumb along her lower lip, following the ghost of Castle's tongue.
"Told you," she said, pushing off the shed and turning to face Tobias. "No broken hearts."
"Yeah, 'cept maybe mine," he joked.
Castle's eyes darted back and forth between the two. "I'm so confused."
"Don't worry about it," she reassured him, giving his bicep a comforting squeeze. "I need to go make a phone call," she excused herself, her eyes conveying the secret meaning of we need to get back to the case.
"Of course. I'll, um, I'll find something useful to do," he called out as she walked away.
"Sorry I ruined your moment," Tobias apologised.
"Oh, no big deal," Castle reassured him, waving it off with the flick of his hand.
"No, seriously, let me make it up to you."
They seemed to find lead after lead, unfortunately.
No, wait, fortunately. It was definitely a fortunate thing.
It was the fact that keeping busy with the case meant there was literally no time for them to talk about... anything else... that was unfortunate.
Because that kiss, holy dang, that kiss! It had consumed him, occupied his every thought. How was he supposed to focus on a case when he could still taste her on his lips, feel her hands on him, her fingers in his hair?
She had asked him to find them a ride to the Yavapai reservation. He had heard that there were ATV's available for those who were keen to explore the ranch in a slightly less authentic way. But, thanks to Tobias, he also knew that about halfway between the ranch's town centre and the Yavapai reservation, there was a private - and very romantic - campfire set up and that if he were to travel to the reservation by horse and carriage, they would more than likely be passing by it on their way back right on nightfall.
So, he did what any hopeless romantic would do and packed a last minute picnic, hiding it under the seat so that he could only pull it out once he was certain she was open to discussing what had happened earlier.
She was on the phone - presumably to the boys - as he rolled up. The smile on her face and the light in her eyes, though very quickly schooled into a more casual appreciation, was unmistakable. He had made the right choice, he was sure of it. She even laughed when he introduced her to their chauffeurs for the afternoon; Ryan and Espo, the horses.
As they travelled the long journey, he couldn't help but keep looking over to her. The carriage wasn't overly comfortable, but she seemed to be enjoying taking in the scenery and having a chance to relax in the peacefulness of it all.
She could try to deny it all she wanted, he knew that she was loving this.
On the way back from the reservation, he diverted slightly from the route they had taken there, but she didn't comment. Even as the sun began to set and they were still far from 'home', she just sat back, enjoying the view.
Castle pulled on the reins, slowing them until they came to a stop. He looked at Beckett, caution telling him to tread carefully.
"What would you say if I told you I had an ulterior motive with the carriage?"
She smiled, rolled her eyes. "I would say that I was not the least bit surprised."
She waited for some witty remark, but he just watched her carefully. His seriousness made her nervous.
"Castle, what's wrong?"
He motioned with his hand, encouraging her to move her attention to something outside of the carriage. She looked to the set up just a few yards from where they had stopped; a campfire with a cosy little log bench.
Her body stiffened as she pieced together what he had in mind.
"I was hoping we could have dinner here," he said, drawing her attention back to him.
She watched as he pulled a basket out from behind where they sat and she realised that he had planned this; the horse and carriage, the scenic route they had taken on their way back from the reservation, everything.
They hadn't had a chance to discuss the kiss yet, but she knew that this was apparently going to be that time. Truthfully, she didn't know what it meant; if it was merely a clever distraction, like last time, a way to not get caught snooping around or if that was just her way of hiding from something that meant so much more. She didn't know if these feelings she was experiencing were genuine or fabricated by this fake world they were immersed in, but the last thing she wanted to do was give him the wrong impression before she had time to figure this out for herself.
"Castle-"
"Before you say no," he interrupted her. "Just know that I don't expect anything of you."
She looked at him, not really sure of exactly what that meant. But the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, it eased her.
"Look, I sprung that on you earlier and I shouldn't have done that," he started, apologetically. "I just, I thought maybe our killer was about to catch us and-"
"I get it," she reassured him.
But her mind finished his thought for him; I didn't mean anything by it. And she would be lying if she said that didn't hurt.
"I was just hoping that we could have some time together, away from the interruptions at the ranch, to... I don't know..." His voice trailed off as he gathered his thoughts. He shrugged before continuing. "Talk? Not talk? Whatever you want to do."
She looked down, fidgeting nervously with her hands.
Whatever she wanted to do...
She had no idea what she wanted to do because all she could think about was kissing him again.
"I mean, we can openly discuss the case out here without having to worry about people overhearing," he said with a smile. He knew how to persuade her. "If you wanted to get our theorizing on, I can get down with that."
She laughed a little at his enthusiasm. She appreciated his attempt to divert from the heavier conversation topics. She appreciated him... so much.
"What's for dinner, then?" she asked softly, accepting his dinner invite.
His smile brightened, happiness wrinkling at the corner of his eyes. He grabbed the basket before turning and jumping down from the carriage, then he turned back and held out his hand to assist her down, too.
She accepted his hand gratefully, expecting him to release his hold on her once she had two feet firmly on the ground, but he did not. Her heart quickened as he led her toward the campfire pit. Even though he had assured her he wasn't expecting anything, she knew that this felt different.
When they reached the pit he dropped her hand and she felt like she could breathe again. She watched as he lit the fire, smiling at her proudly as the first sparks ignited into small flames.
He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushed her back a few steps.
"Sit," he instructed and when her heels hit the log, she sat.
He took his place beside her and began digging through the basket, pulling out tin mugs, a bottle of wine and a very limited assortment of foods.
"I just kind of grabbed whatever I could find that would last the journey. There really isn't all that many options in the Wild West, unfortunately."
He held up a packet of jerky in one hand and an apple in the other, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips.
She smiled and rolled her eyes. Somehow, the knowledge that this was such a last minute plan all he could manage to scrounge up was a bit of fruit and a packet of jerky had made their dinner even better, taken the pressure off and allowed her to just relax and enjoy his company.
They sat in silence for a little bit, taking in the scenery as the night grew dark. It really was breath-taking.
It was unfamiliar - lacking the sounds of the city - but the crackle of the fire, the hum of insects in the night and the occasional whinny coming from Ryan and Esposito's equine namesakes provided just enough noise to calm their busy minds.
"I'm sorry that I kissed you," he said after several minutes, his words slicing through their silence in the most brutal way.
She didn't answer for a moment, had to swallow down the hurt.
"I mean, I'm not sorry that I kissed you, I'm just-"
"It's fine, Castle."
Logically, she knew what he had meant. But that split second when his words were just words - before her brain caught up and comprehended their meaning, his intention - she hadn't expected that kind of pain.
"No," he said firmly. "No, I want you to know that I'm not sorry I kissed you. In fact, kissing you might quite possibly be the highlight of this entire trip. And I'm including when we inevitably catch the killer."
"Kissing me is better than catching killers?" she asked incredulously.
"Hands down," he replied without missing a beat.
He smiled that bright, kinda crooked smile that made her heart swell.
He leaned closer, bumping his shoulder to hers. "You know, this is the part where you say you enjoyed it, too," he whispered, only partially serious.
She smiled, couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease.
"It was alright, I guess," she admitted with a shrug.
"You know what? I'll take it," he said as he poured wine into their tin mugs and passed one to her. "I'm just glad you didn't hurt me. So I'll call that a victory."
She laughed and they clinked their mugs together in celebration.
"You wanna know what else was a victory today?" he asked excitedly.
"Mmhmm," she mumbled as she sipped her wine.
Without saying another word, Castle pulled a harmonica out of his back pocket and began to play. He had apparently actually learned something in his class today, because he was playing a familiar tune and, admittedly, playing it well.
She watched in awe for several minutes, until he tucked it back into his pocket.
"Admit it," he said, his eyes glistening with pride. "You're impressed."
She gently sunk her teeth into her lower lip, stifling her grin for as long as she could before relenting.
"You know what? Yeah, I kinda am."
His pride only strengthened with her validation.
She held his gaze, losing herself in his baby blues. His tongue darted out the tiniest bit, wetting his lips and stealing her focus for the briefest of moments. When her eyes drifted back to his, the baby blue was replaced by something darker, something more desperate.
The pull was magnetic and she didn't even want to try and fight it. Slowly, she leant in and brushed her lips against his.
Things got heated, quickly, and before long they were frantically pawing at each other, desperate for more contact and less clothing, desperate for each other.
But their clothes were new, buttons were stiff and there were too many layers.
She pushed away from him, standing and taking matters into her own hands. She fumbled with her buttons, but eventually they popped open.
One, two, three buttons undone before he stood and joined in her efforts to undress, working on his own shirt.
Her eyes followed his nimble fingers down the length of his shirt, drifting further when movement caught her eye.
She froze, wide-eyed.
"Castle, don't move!" she warned.
But he obviously missed the alarm in her voice. "Your wish is my command," he sung playfully.
"No, I'm serious," she all but barked at him. "Don't move an inch."
Finally registering her distress, he followed the trajectory of her eyes down his body.
The breath was stolen from his lungs when he spotted the diamondback rattlesnake by his feet.
"Oh my God!" he gasped, fighting his flight response.
"Castle," she lowered her voice, trying to calm him.
She could see the way his body twitched, wanting to run, and that sent a bolt of fear coursing through her body.
"Oh my God!" he repeated, louder than before.
"Don't move," she pleaded. "Just don't move!"
She slowly reached for her gun, contemplating, knowing that the shot would scare off the horses but what other choice did she have?
Castle squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for whatever would come next.
Ten seconds passed - ten slow, painful seconds - and... nothing. No gunshot, no more warning words from Kate and, most importantly, no pathetic shrieking coming from his own mouth after being bitten by the rattler.
"It's leaving." He heard her whisper.
He opened his eyes, looked down to where he last saw the snake, and it was gone.
They both let out a heavy sigh of relief, the breath they had been involuntarily holding out of fear.
Beckett laughed. "Oh my God!" she imitated.
It was reflex, of course. Her brain's way of processing the flurry of emotions that had come and gone so quickly.
"Are you seriously mocking me right now?" he almost yelled, but her smile and the sound of her laugh was working wonders on calming his heart. "I could have died," he added through laughter of his own.
"I'm sorry," she said, still laughing as she walked toward him.
"Yeah, you seem sorry."
She schooled herself, forced her laughter to stop and reached out to touch his face. "No, I am. I'm sorry."
He wouldn't even pretend to be mad, though, because the way she was touching him was soothing, like aloe on a burn.
He cupped her face, kissed her gently.
"We should go," she whispered. "You know... before our slithery little friend comes back."
"Right."
They barely made it through the door before they were all over each other again.
Hats were abandoned, tossed carelessly in whatever direction was not in the way.
If there was one thing he was growing to resent about the Wild West, it was the sturdiness of their clothing. There were too many layers, the belts were too secure and why the fuck were chaps so difficult to deal with when you're in a rush?
She took a half-step back, gripping at his shirt and ripping it open. Buttons flew in every which way, scattering across the hardwood floors.
She looked up at him with bright eyes. "I'm sorry."
"That's okay, I didn't really like this shirt anyway."
"Okay, good."
His mouth found hers again. Hands explored each others bodies as they stepped clumsily toward that tiny twin bed that was pushed against the wall.
As they fell onto it together, he knew that tonight was about to be a million times better than any clichéd scene he could dream up.
They hadn't discussed... well, anything really.
When they woke up the next day, it was straight back into the case. The events of the night forgotten. Or, at least, put on the back burner, because there was no way they could actually forget it.
But it wasn't awkward, not like she had spent many years convincing herself it would be. Even though they didn't know where this was headed, didn't know how the other felt about what had happened, there was no nervousness.
They worked together... fine. As if nothing had even happened.
On the drive to the airport, they debriefed with Ryan and Esposito - the human Ryan and Esposito - over the phone. On the flight, they watched a movie and the drive from the airport to the precinct was pleasantly quiet.
But they knew that they had to talk about this. Back in the city, back at work, this thing between them needed to be defined, needed rules. There was too much at risk for them to be blasé about it.
"Did you, uh-"
She turned to him, eagerly awaiting whatever he was about to say, whatever he was about to ask.
This was their moment, their time to figure things out before whatever had sparked fizzled away.
She smiled, hoping it would be the gentle encouragement he needed to not fall into old habits. Both of them had to try not to fall into the trap that they had fallen into in the past; pretending it never happened.
"Did you want to get a drink?" he asked, his confidence bolstered by the calm in her eyes. "We could go to the Old Haunt."
She pursed her lips as she pretended to consider his offer, nodding slowly.
"Or," she countered.
"Or?" he questioned, his interest piqued.
"We could get some take out," she deliberated aloud. "Go back to my place?"
He smiled and stuck his elbow out for her to link her arm through.
"Yeah, I like that idea."