For those of you who haven't come from my Tumblr... this entire story - or, more accurately, this scattering of mini-scenes - takes places in between the scenes of episodes 5x02 (Cloudy With a Chance of Murder) and 5x03 (Secret's Safe With Me). Most of these 'scenes' should slot in without actually changing anything from the episode... there's only one or two that divert from canon a little bit.
I received the following prompt and simply because the person who sent the prompt was so kind I made the decision to abandon (temporarily) everything else and let my mind go absolutely crazy with this! Honestly, it was fun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
PROMPT
Kate's back at the precinct after her two week suspension and can't seem to keep her hands off Castle. A saucy rendezvous in which they almost get caught is what leads her to crack down on the "no touching at work" rule.
This was... well, it was more difficult than she had anticipated.
They had spent the last two weeks together. With his mother and daughter in Europe celebrating Alexis' graduation, and Kate being forced to serve out her suspension, they'd had the freedom to really dive into this honeymoon stage of their relationship.
Honeymoon seemed very accurate, too. With the exception of venturing out for the necessities - you know; food, fresh air, the occasional spot of sunshine - they had spent almost the entire two weeks behind closed walls of both her apartment and Castle's loft. Their homes were their sanctuary, a safe haven where they could just be; where they could kiss, and touch, and laugh without fear of outside judgement. So quickly, she had grown used to that, grown accustom to living life in Castle's pocket; never more than the flex of a pinky-finger away from him.
That was the first thing she missed; the proximity. He was still right by her side, but there was at least 15 inches of unwanted distance between them at all times. She was also suddenly so aware of how impossible it felt to look at him and not smile. She was constantly having to school her expression, to bite down on her lip to stop it from curling into an expression of amusement as he said something so typically Castle. His commentary about the weather girl's assets should have earned him a disapproving frown, not a stifled smirk, but she just couldn't help herself...
And Lanie was too observant for Kate's liking.
Something's changed, her friend had so innocently commented, setting off Beckett's spiral of doubt.
Lanie didn't know the half of it. Two weeks had felt like a lifetime and - in Beckett's mind, at least - nothing was the same. It never would be. She was equal parts thrilled and terrified.
Beckett slipped into her seat behind the steering wheel and slammed the door shut behind her.
"Woah!" Castle looked at her from the passenger's side. "You okay?"
"You need to cool it," she warned.
Castle frowned, confused and offended and... well, mainly just confused and offended. "What did I do? Was it my comment about Mandy Mich-"
"Lanie is onto us," Beckett blurted.
"Oh." Castle visibly relaxed and leant back into the seat. He chuckled and Beckett turned her head to look at him. "Lanie is not onto us."
"Castle, she noticed something was up within seconds of seeing us."
"Within seconds of seeing you," he corrected. "Maybe you're the one who needs to cool it," he joked.
"I'm trying but you keep..." Her voice trailed off.
"Keep what?"
She dropped her head back against the headrest, closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.
"God, you're not even doing anything, are you?" She opened her eyes and fixed her posture before raking her nails through her hair. "Okay, you know what? It is me. I need to cool it."
She inhaled deeply, then let the breath out slowly.
"I'm fine," she insisted.
They both knew she was anything but...
"Do I really get you that hot and bothered, Detective?" Castle asked in a low, lusty voice that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Castle," she whined. "Please don't."
He could see that she was genuinely worried, that the fear of them getting caught - the fear he had spent days trying to convince her was unnecessary - had returned with a vengeance. He wouldn't push it; wouldn't tease her anymore.
"I'll stop," he assured her with a comforting smile.
But goddammit, if that show of solitude wasn't the sexiest damn thing he'd done all day...
If anyone were to ask her what the hardest part of her job was, she would say this part right here: making the phone call that's about to change a family's life forever.
Mrs Michaels had been distraught to learn of her daughter's murder. Inconsolable. It wasn't an uncommon reaction but it was one of the harder ones to deal with. The shocked silence was easier. Just as devastating to witness, sure, but easier. With shocked silence, Kate could begin to move the conversation along, to get to the questions that unfortunately had to be asked. But distraught, inconsolable cries could not be politely side-stepped in order to progress her investigation. So, for twenty minutes Kate sat and listened as the older woman on the other end of the phone wailed over the loss of her only child, offering the grieving mother gentle condolences as she tried to ignore the rising emotions of knowing all too well what it felt like to be on the other end of this conversation.
Eventually, Mr Michaels returned home. He took the phone from his wife and Kate broke the news once more.
Silence.
"I just have a few questions, if that's okay, Mr Michaels?"
The man tried, stoically answering every question he could but unfortunately it was evident he didn't know all that much about his daughter's life. After just a few minutes, he had to pass the phone back to his wife. Kate eased back into her questioning, trying to balance the line between getting answers and being delicate of Mrs Michaels' fragile state of mind. It was a slow process but eventually she got what she needed.
"Take care, Mrs Michaels."
She stood, paced the edge of her desk to stretch her legs while massaging her forehead with her fingertips in attempt to rid herself of the headache forming. She looked up just in time to see Castle approaching, coffee in hand.
She forced a smile. "Hey."
"You okay?" he asked.
The concern in his voice sliced through her bullshit attempt at trying to cover up just how tough the call had been. Her shoulders slumped, smile dropped from her face and she wanted nothing more than to just step into his arms and let the warmth of his embrace melt away her burdens.
Instead, she accepted the mug of steaming hot latte from his hands and hoped it was just as effective.
"Just got off the phone with Mandy's parents. They said that she spent most of her time at work. There was no boyfriend and they have no idea why she was in the park."
She blew on the steaming beverage and took a small sip. No, it didn't come close to comforting her but in the middle of the precinct, she supposed it would have to do.
"Hey guys." Ryan's voice drew her attention and she turned to watch his approach. "Check this out. I was going through Mandy's purse and I found this folded up in her wallet."
Castle took the evidence-bagged note from Ryan and read it aloud.
"'If any of this gets out, I'll kill you'?" He passed the note to Beckett. "I'm gonna go ahead and say she was being threatened."
She had to bite back the duh that sat on the very tip of her tongue.
"That doesn't mean this is why she was killed," she reminded him. Don't jump to conclusions. "All evidence points to the fact that she was mugged."
Her phone beeped and vibrated against her thigh. She pulled it from her pocket and opened the message from Lanie.
Need you ASAP. Figured it out.
"Lanie's got something," she announced. She turned to Ryan. "Coffee?"
He took the mug with a smile. "Thanks."
Beckett walked toward the elevator, Castle by her side.
Once they were out of earshot, Castle complained, "I made that for you."
She knew he was staring, even without so much as a glance in his direction. She kept her focus on the road as she gripped the steering wheel tight.
"What?"
"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle despite the shortness in hers.
"I told you: I'm fine."
"No, you told me you spoke to Mandy's parents," he corrected her. "You never said that you were fine."
"Well, I am."
"You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"
She eased her foot on the brake as she came up to a red light. Once the car had come to a stop, she turned her attention to her partner and forced a smile. "Of course."
But she can see it on his face: he's unsure whether or not to believe her. She understood why. It's not like she's always been the most straight-forward person when it comes to talking about how she feels. But she was trying to be better at that, for him.
She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel, rested her wrist on the console between them and turned her palm upward: an invitation.
He placed his hand in hers, laced their fingers together and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She knew - with this simple act - that he was willing to drop it, that he wouldn't push her if she didn't want to talk about it. But she did, for him.
She sighed, bought herself a second to gather her thoughts before she spoke.
"I just- it's been nice, you know? Those few weeks of not being the one to turn people's lives completely upside down."
She tried to protect him from this part of the job. Whenever she could, she would handle this part by herself, distracting him with busy-work, coffee runs or anything else she could think of at the time. Even when he does happen to be with her while she breaks the news to a family, he's never the one to drop such a catastrophic bomb, never the one to have to comfort the grieving family. She carries that weight and she does her damnedest to make sure he doesn't see just how heavy it is. Because it was her job, not his.
But everything was different now; letting him see her vulnerabilities seemed so much... easier.
Not that it seemed to be something that was entirely within her control, given the single tear that slid ever so slowly down her cheek.
The light turned green and slipped her hand free from his, used her sleeve to wipe the stray droplet from her face before returning her focus to their journey down town.
"Kate-"
She laughed a watery chuckle. "Sorry. This tends to happen after I'm off the job for a while," she explained. "I just need a day to adjust, to-"
"Put the armour back on?"
She looked over at him and smiled. She loved how he just... understood. He never judged, never questioned why she kept coming back if she found it so difficult, because he just got it.
"Yeah. Something like that."
They continued their drive to the ME's building down town in comfortable silence. She pulled into the first vacant spot they found, killed the engine and got out of the car; all without a single word. She stepped quickly, rounding the car to stand by the passenger's side as Castle was pulling himself from his seat.
"Everything okay?" he asked as he unexpectedly came face-to-face with her.
He shut the car door behind him but kept his eyes on hers.
"You gonna keep asking me that?"
"Maybe."
Kate smiled and took another step closer; closer than they'd dared to be all morning. And for good reason, apparently. Instantly - as if drawn by some magnetic force - Rick reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, the heat of his touch lingering just a little too long against her skin.
She leant forward and gave him a short, sweet kiss. "Thank you," she whispered.
But short and sweet had never sufficed; and now wasn't any different.
Rick leant forward, claimed her lips with his own. His hands dropped to her waist and he pulled her against him; she draped her arms over his shoulders, crossed her wrists behind his head as she melted against his body. He shifted, turned them so that Beckett was backed against the car and he pressed his body against hers; just the tiniest amount of friction that sent a jolt of electricity through her body and drew a low moan from her.
They heard the screech of car tyres as someone hooned into the parking garage and they pulled away from one another. Rick stepped back, creating an acceptable amount of distance between them and, mere seconds later, a silver Mercedes passed them.
"That was-"
"Dangerous," Rick finished her sentence for her. His statement, though not what she was going to say, wasn't entirely inaccurate. But the tone of his voice wasn't indicative of someone who had learned his lesson.
He sounded thrilled... enticed by the risk of it all.
"Too close," she corrected him.
Rick nodded, but the lust was still dark in his eyes and she knew that that was the real danger: allowing the thrill of danger to seduce them.
Them, because she had felt it too.
The slam of a car door pulled her from her thoughts. They watched as a middle aged man dressed in a nice suit got out of the car and began his hurried stride toward the building.
"Morning," he greeted as he passed them.
"Morning," they returned with a polite smile and nod of their heads.
Once the man passed, Kate began to walk in the same direction. Castle fell into place by her side and they walked in silence until they reached the morgue.
Lanie had been expecting their arrival and was waiting by the entrance for them. She looked at Kate with elevator eyes, scanning the detective's appearance from top to bottom before moving back to look her in the eye. Her mouth curved into a smirk, which kicked Kate's mind into overdrive.
But before Kate could ask her friend what was so amusing, Lanie got straight to business.
"It wasn't a mugging," she announced, then turned and strutted into the autopsy room.
The pair followed, curiosity piqued.
"How can you tell?" Beckett asked as she stepped up to the slab, opposite Lanie.
"Blood splatter on her blouse indicates the shirt was ripped after the gunshot."
"And what about the bruising?" asked Castle.
"Post mortem."
Kate let her frustration out in a sigh. "To make it look like a mugging."
She turned to say something to Castle but the thought slipped straight from her mind when she noticed the slightly tussled hair near his ear. It was only the slightest bit displaced - most likely from when she combed her fingers through it just minutes earlier - so the chances of anyone else noticing it were miniscule. Either way, she didn't want to be the one to draw attention to it so she turned away.
"Someone's trying to cover their tracks," Lanie said. Suddenly, she perked up. "Speaking of which; I figured out what's different."
Beckett froze, fighting the urge the look at Castle to make sure his face wasn't giving anything away.
Lanie pointed a gloved finger at her friend. "You're having sex," she declared before that accusing finger moved in Castle's direction, then back to Beckett.
Beckett's heart began to pound furiously. How the fuck had she figured it out so fast?
Had Lanie somehow witnessed their momentary lapse in judgement in the garage? Or was it just that evident to everyone around them that something had shifted in hers and Castle's relationship?
She swallowed down her fear. "E-excuse me?"
"Oh, don't try to deny it!" Lanie exclaimed. Her eyes darted to Castle's then back to Beckett's. "There's a glow. I know that glow."
And Beckett just couldn't fight it anymore; she turned to Castle and braced herself for the truth to be written all over his face. Surprisingly, he wasn't totally giving them away. He looked surprised, sure, but it definitely could have passed as a Beckett has sex? kind of surprised. She turned her attention back to Lanie, trying to calm the chaos of her mind long enough to make a decision: was she going to lie to her best friend or was she going to crumble and come clean?
"So, who's the guy?" Lanie asked.
Beckett's confused made itself known in the deep furrow of her brow. Two seconds ago Lanie was wagging that accusing finger in Castle's direction and Beckett had been so sure they were caught out.
"Yeah Beckett," Castle played along. She turned her attention back to him. "Who's the guy?"
She smiled because she recognised that tone: thinly veiled jealousy. He was actually gonna sell this.
"Nobody that you would know."
"Are you sure?" Castle pushed. Because Castle would push. "I know a lot of guys."
"I'm sure."
She turned back to Lanie who was looking at the pair with a smirk on her face and the confidence of having sold it faded. Beckett couldn't quite tell if her friends smirk said look at Castle, getting all jealous or if it so loudly screamed look at these two idiots thinking they can fool me.
"Anything else?" she asked, desperately needing to hurry this along.
Beckett stood by the coffee machine, waiting for the last of the espresso double-shot to drip from the machine so that she could pour the perfectly foamed milk into her mug. She was getting better at this; soon enough she'd be able to make herself a cup of coffee to rival Castle's, she was sure of it.
The boys had paraded through the bullpen with Reggie and his body guard only ten minutes ago. Their interrogation was far from over and, with everything panning out the way it had been, Beckett had decided that now was as good a time as ever for a caffeine boost.
Castle evidently had the same idea.
He walked into the break room and moved to take his place by her side. But he stood too close. Too close for at the precinct, anyway.
Out of habit - yes, after only two weeks they had already formed too many habits - his hand came to rest on her lower back and his chest brushed against her shoulder. She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose: trying to drive her crazy with the close proximity, the familiarity of his touch. But she hated having to hold back and it would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't constantly putting her in the position of having to be the one to redraw those boundaries.
With a sigh, she stepped to the side and regretfully created some distance between them.
"You know what I was just thinking?" Castle asked her as he turned and leaned back against the bench.
"That it's always the nice guy athlete that lets you down?" she mused with just a hint of bitterness.
Castle frowned. "There's obviously a backstory to that snide remark," he commented curiously. She looked at him, waited for the hounding questions but he shook his head. "No. I was thinking..." He allowed his voice to trail off as he stepped closer to her. After just a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone, he looked at her with a mischievous grin. "It's almost lunch time."
Beckett looked at him, waited for him to maybe continue on with that train of thought. Instead, he just waggled his eyebrows.
"And?"
"And, I just happened to leave my packed lunch at home this morning."
She frowned; since when did Castle pack a lunch? But then she realised what he was suggesting. "So you'll be needing to go home to get it."
Castle smiled, took another small step in her direction. He was invading her space again; the smell of his cologne too alluring to ignore and she - for the second time that day - abandoned her coffee.
"I was hoping that maybe you could give me a lift?" he asked, still playing this game he had obviously decided he liked. "You know, save me the hassle of trying to hail a cab."
"You seem to have forgotten the case we're working on. The one that is far from solved," she reminded him.
He shrugged. "Gotta take your mandated break, right?"
"And you want me to spend my break playing taxi for you?"
"I promise to make it worth your while."
They crashed through the loft door, wasting to time at all. With lips still locked to his, she untied the belt of her coat and slipped it from her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Castle fumbled with the buttons of her blouse as she followed suit, reaching for his shirt and pulling it free from the waistband of his pants.
It reeked of desperation - the rushed and clumsy manner in which articles of clothing were tossed aside as they stumbled toward the bedroom - but she simply just did not care. She loved it, in fact: the way he seemed to need her as much as he needed the oxygen he breathed. And, although it scared her, she could admit to herself that she needed him too.
She fell to the bed, breaking away from Castle's kiss for the first time since they'd reached the front door. He stood at the foot of the bed, hungry eyes raking over her body as he caught his breath.
"Have I told you that I think you are incredibly beautiful?"
Beckett smiled. "You have."
"Today?" he asked and she nodded. "Good."
He climbed onto the bed, settled his weight between her thighs as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her thoroughly.
"This was a great idea," he bragged, breathlessly.
"Stop talking," she ordered. "We only have 45 minutes until we have to be back at the precinct."
Castle looked at her as if she had somehow offended him. "You know I'm nothing if not efficient," he boasted.
Beckett laughed and rolled her eyes. "Then stop talking and prove it."
They arrived back at the precinct with a valid excuse for being late: lunch for everyone.
It had been Castle's idea, of course, claiming that men don't ask too many questions when you distract them with food. Beckett had joked about having to remember that for a later date, but he had refused to take the bait. He was just relieved that she seemed to have perked up a little since her tough phone call earlier in the day.
"Hey," Ryan greeted the pair as they walked toward Beckett's desk. "Where'd you guys take off to?"
Castle held up the bag of delicious smelling burritos. "Lunch run."
"It took you over an hour to pick up food from three blocks away?" Esposito asked dubiously.
Thankfully, neither one of them had to rush to come up with a defence. Apparently, Espo and Ryan were still jumping at any chance to start bickering with one another and Ryan saved the day with a spiteful "A thank you is really all that's necessary."
Castle passed Ryan a burrito.
"Thank you, Castle," he said in an overly exaggerated manner. Then he turned his attention to Beckett. "I appreciate it."
Esposito scoffed. "I appreciate it too," he said, sulking.
Beckett pulled a burrito from the bag and handed it to the deflated detective. "We know," she assured him with a smile.
The two detectives walked back to their desks to eat.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Castle leaned in closer to Beckett and whispered, "Should we be concerned about this?"
"Give 'em a few more days," she said decidedly. "If they don't have it sorted, then I'll start to worry."
She was fuming.
And she had every right to do so!
Kristina Coterra had made a move, asked him out. The nerve. Not that she had done anything wrong, exactly. Castle was, for all intents and purposes, a single man in the eye of the public. Beckett had insisted on the whole 'pretend to be single' thing...
So, maybe she didn't have every right to be fuming.
But still, pretending to be single in public and going on a date - an actual date - with another person were two totally different things! One was protecting their relationship, the other was just flat out disrespecting it. And to think they were off to such a good start.
She had left the studio in a fit of anger, leaving Castle to find his own way home.
Maybe Kristina could give him a lift, she thought to herself as she drove away from the lot.
She didn't hear from him that night.
The next morning, she headed straight to the precinct. She'd had time to reassess the situation, to calm down. She wasn't seeing red anymore, wasn't consumed by anger. She was, however, hurt.
Insecure.
Maybe even a little jealous.
"You left," he accused without so much as a good morning.
She gave him a quick glance over her shoulder. "I had work to do," she lied.
"When I came back here last night they said you hadn't come back."
She felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach; she hadn't expected him to have headed back here to try and find her. And she knew - because she knew him - that he had probably wanted to head straight to her apartment afterward to see her, possibly even apologise to her, but he didn't. Because he knew her too. He knew she needed time to cool off.
She sighed and closed the filing drawer she had been digging through.
"Fine," she relented - but her pride wouldn't back down that quickly. "I went home."
"You're upset."
"Why would I be upset?" she asked as she pushed her way past him. "It's not like you're going out with some super hot TV personality or anything," she said bitterly. She stopped her journey to escape, turned on her heel and looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Oh, wait; yes you are."
"I'm doing it for us," he claimed.
A bold claim, really. Dating another woman - a woman known for crossing boundaries, for baring her body for the sake of entertainment - in order to protect the sanctity of what was theirs; what an insane notion. She had no words: no sarcastic quips, no arguments, no questions or queries... nothing. His idea of doing this for us had left her utterly speechless.
She turned, once again, and stormed away.
"Kate!" he called out after her, but she wouldn't stop.
She heard the heavy fall of his footsteps as he rushed to catch up. Halfway down the staircase, he was by her side.
"I'm telling you, it's the perfect cover," he insisted enthusiastically. "No one's gonna suspect us if they know I'm going out with Kristina."
As if to prove his point, Esposito approached from the hallway with a boyish grin on his face.
"Yo, Castle! Nice work with Coterra, bro."
Beckett couldn't contain the frustrated roll of her eyes as they bumped fists like teenaged boys in the locker room, bragging over their latest pursuits. And as soon as Espo was out of earshot, Castle looked at her with a smug grin.
"See? Perfect."
She hated to admit it, but he might have actually been onto something.
That didn't mean she had to like the idea.
"Yeah, it's perfect," she said without a single ounce of conviction in her voice. "So, how far do you plan on taking this date?" she dared to ask.
And she hated her voice for failing to hide how insecure she felt in this moment, hated her mind for even allowing such thoughts to consume her, hated Castle's apparent oblivion to it all.
"Well, I'm taking her out to a fancy dinner," he informed her oh-so-casually. "Some place romantic where everyone will see us; maybe even end up on Page Six. How great would that be?"
She forced a smile. "That'd be- that'd be really great."
And, finally, he realised. "You are okay with this, right?"
She bit her tongue, this wasn't the time.
But Castle had other plans. He grabbed her hand and hurried out of the bullpen, dragging Kate along behind him. They passed the elevators and scurried down the small corridor that led to an old storage closet. He opened the door, pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, plunging them into darkness.
"I didn't fully think this through," he commented.
Beckett couldn't help but smile and - for just a brief moment - she was thankful for his blunder and the fact that they stood in the dark: she didn't want him thinking he was off the hook that easy.
"Hope you're not claustrophobic," she snarked.
"Kate-" His hands found her hips and she sucked in air, not having expected the touch. "I was put on the spot and, in a moment of panic, I thought I had found a perfect cover," he explained.
The sincerity of his voice crumbled her defences in an instant and she reached out for him, curled her fingers around the material of his shirt.
"It was never my intention to upset you," he assured her.
"I know."
He inched closer, towering over her so the bold outline of his body was all she could see, all she could feel.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, bringing one hand up to cup her cheek.
"I know," she whispered back.
Castle pressed his forehead to hers and they stood for a moment in stillness and in silence, just basking in this private moment. In the freedom of this touch, the freedom she had missed so much more than she had expected she would.
"I missed you last night," she confessed. "My fault, I know."
But Castle shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "Not your fault. I'll call and cancel."
His hand moved from her cheek to comb through her hair, then fell back to her waist.
"Don't." She sighed. "You're right; it's a good cover."
"I said perfect cover," he corrected. Sensing her frown, he continued, "but good works, too."
Again, she smiled. And again, she was grateful for the cover of darkness so he wouldn't think he was off the hook.
"Just promise me one thing," she bargained. "Don't be too charming."
"That's like asking the sun not to shine-"
"Humble," she muttered sarcastically.
"But, for you, I'll try."
"Okay, well, maybe just one more thing?"
"Anything," he promised.
She covered his hand with hers, guided it down her hip and around to rest on her ass.
Then she slowly leaned closer and whispered in his ear, "Just keep in mind what will be waiting for you when you get home."
The growl that came from Castle was guttural, primal. It sparked something within her, something that told her to throw caution to the wind (not that she was being particularly cautious to begin with) and, so, she did exactly that.
She reached up, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled herself up onto her tiptoes. He met her in the middle and their mouths clashed in a heated, impassioned kissed. In the dark, her hands found the buttons of his shirt and made quick work of undoing them. She flattened her palms to his abs and smoothed them over his chest, savouring the warmth of his skin under her touch.
Two small steps was all it took to have her back pressed against one of the shelves that lined the walls and she grunted on impact. But Castle didn't stop, couldn't stop. His hand slipped under the material of her shirt, roamed freely until he reached the rough lace of her bra. He cupped his hand over her breast and she arched into him. Her head dropped back against the shelf behind her and sighed as he ghosted his thumb over her sensitised skin.
Castle dropped a kiss to her throat, to her jaw, to the ticklish spot just below her ear and then whispered to her, "I love you, Kate. You're all I will ever need-" A kiss to her jaw. "or want." A kiss to her chin. "Ever." A kiss to her lips.
As their tongues danced, her mind screamed for her to stop. She had very strict rules against this kind of thing: at work, she was a professional. Nothing about this was even remotely close to those standards but she couldn't bring herself to care. She regretted that she let some irrational insecurity keep them apart last night; the first time since she showed up at his door, drenched and desperate to fight for one last chance. She regretted that she had been so angry at him and that her anger had momentarily clouded her mind of what she knew to be true: Castle wanted her. Only her. And right now, despite her own rules, she wanted him too: more than ever before.
"Yeah, I'll get it!"
They heard the faint, muffled sound of a voice from the other side of the door and they both froze in fear. Time seemed to move impossibly slow and yet entirely too fast as they heard the doorknob rattle and twist. Light began to leak through the crack of the door as it creaked open just an inch and Beckett pushed Castle off of her: not that the extra ten inches of space between them would make any difference at all. There was no time to button Castle's shirt, no explanation for the state of Beckett's mussed hair or the very telling swell of their lips.
No, there was no getting out of this one. They were busted.
"Hold on!" They heard another voice, and the door stopped moving.
Castle stepped forward, pressed his body against Beckett's again in hopes to not be seen through the small gap in the only slightly ajar door.
"Pretty sure they dumped it with Robbery," the second voice said.
Today, luck was on their side. The door closed and they were left in darkness once more.
They both exhaled a heavy, held-for-too-long breath and Castle let out a relieved chuckle.
"It's not funny," Beckett scolded as she combed her fingers through her hair.
Rick fumbled with his buttons. "I know, I know. I'm so sorry."
But after a second, she laughed too. Simply because the overwhelming relief that flooded through her needed an outlet.
As soon as he was satisfied with his blind attempt at buttoning his shirt, Castle placed his hands on Beckett's hips and rested his forehead against hers. Together, they took a deep breath.
"Shit," she said as she exhaled. "That was too close."
"We gotta stop," Castle agreed.
"No more. Not here, not anywhere that isn't either the loft or my apartment. We can't afford to get caught."
"Agreed."
And it was the first logical decision they'd made thus far.
Just when they thought they were safe, the door opened again.
They both turned; their horror so evident on their faces.
LT shook his head, looked at them like a disapproving father.
"You two have got to get your shit together," he warned them. Then he pointed to something behind Beckett's head. "Can you pass me that box? Garcia is looking for it."
In that moment, they both realised that the second voice they could hear had been LT.
He saved their asses.
He knew.
Castle grabbed the box from behind Beckett and passed it to LT.
"Thank you," Beckett whispered, still a little too shocked to really process what was happening.
LT smiled. "You should go before someone wanders past and starts asking questions."
It was one emotional nose dive followed almost immediately after another. And another. And another.
But now, the case was closed. And she was spent; so drained both mentally and physically that she was almost certain she could sleep for a whole week.
If not for the mental images of Castle, straddled by a bikini-clad babe, engaging in what looked to be a very vigorous make out session. It replayed in her mind over and over again, offering her no respite; not even for a second.
You're all I will ever need or want.
She believed that, wholeheartedly. Still, the events of the evening had penetrated her heart like the bluntest of knives. She needed to slink away and mend her wounds: alone, like always.
"Walk you out?" Castle offered as she picked up a stack of files: her homework for the night.
She had no doubt in her mind that he knew she was struggling. He had a good poker face - much better than hers - but she could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk, to sort things out. She just wasn't ready for that yet.
"Uh- no. Thanks. I'm good."
She watched, just for a split-second, as Castle's carefully crafted mask dropped and the concern - the fear that he had screwed this up already - became so evident. Her heart skipped a beat and she wanted to change her mind but then came the flashbacks; the lipstick smudges on her boyfriend's face, the women atop him whom only seemed frustrated by the sudden interruption. Nope, not tonight.
"Night guys," she said to all three of them.
It was final; decision made. She was going home alone tonight, the second time in as many days, with the crushing fear that maybe they were crumbling already.
She drove aimlessly for a while, not even sure where she was headed. It wasn't until she pulled up - a decision made on instinct, not plan - outside of the familiar apartment building that she began to understand what it was she needed right now.
Her best friend.
Lanie answered on the second knock; obviously not having expected a visitor at this time of night, but she didn't seem entirely surprised by Beckett's presence.
"Come in," she said softly before Beckett could find any words at all.
No greeting, no explanation as to why she was there, nothing.
Beckett moved further into the apartment, scanned her surroundings: TV on, throw blanket draped over the couch, half-empty glass of wine on the coffee table.
"Long day?" she asked her friend.
"Very," Lanie answered with a smile.
She walked past Beckett, into the living room, and turned off the TV. She sat on the couch, then patted the spot beside her in invitation.
Beckett hesitated for a moment - what was she even doing here? - but then relented and sat by her friend.
"What's wrong?" Lanie asked once they had settled.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Lanie arched a brow and Beckett could almost hear the do you think I'm stupid? accusation in the action. She shrugged and Lanie rolled her eyes. "So this has nothing to do with a certain someone's date tonight?"
Beckett bit her tongue, swallowed down the anger invoked by the damn incessant relaying of events in her mind. "How did you know about that?"
"I watch TV."
Of course. Because Kristina Coterra doesn't ask you out in private, she does it live on TV. She does it for the whole Country to see. She puts men who are publicly single but secretly dating their partner on the spot, making them make stupid decisions.
"And Javi told me," Lanie added, giving Beckett someone knew to aim her misplaced anger at.
Beckett sighed. "Of course he did."
"I was just curious as to why Writer Boy would be going on a date with Kristina Coterra in the first place," Lanie stated, not-so-subtly fishing for the confession they both knew she didn't actually need.
"Why wouldn't he?" Beckett pouted.
"So, we're still playing dumb," Lanie surmised. "Noted."
They sat in stubborn silence.
Lanie thought that if she waited, her friend would eventually cave and confess everything.
Beckett thought that if she waited, her friend would eventually cave and leave her be.
After two agonising minutes, they had their winner.
"Fine, don't tell me," Lanie groaned. "But whatever is or isn't going on, you should probably just talk to the guy. You know what Castle is like; he probably just did something stupid because in that weird little brain of his he thought it was the right thing to do."
Beckett took a long, slow breath. She hated when Lanie made a logical solutions seem so damn obvious, especially when it was so damn obvious but she was just too emotional to have been able to see it herself.
She rolled her eyes. "I never actually confirmed that I was here because of his date," she complained.
"You never actually confirmed a lot of things, doesn't mean I don't know it to be true," Lanie teased.
Beckett rolled her eyes again. "I'll leave you and your accusations in peace." She turned and walked to the door. As she left, she looked at her friend and smiled sincerely. "Thanks, Lanie."
Must you always be so... so stubborn, Katie?
Apparently, the answer to the question her parent's had frustratedly asked her on many occasions was a big, fat yes.
It's not that she hadn't tried to be a little softer, a little less headstrong. She had decided - the moment she arrived home, alone... again - that she could forgive and forget this whole mess. Because, like Lanie had said (and like she already knew) Castle had only done what he thought was the right thing.
He had explained how they had ended up in his Loft rather than the fancy restaurant he had made reservations at. He had explained the alarming phone call, the shattering glass. And he had explained that no matter what he said or did, Kristina had been on a mission to get exactly what she wanted.
If anything, he was the victim in all of this. Maybe, just maybe, it was her who owed him an apology.
Then, as if timed by fate itself, there was a knock at her door.
He came bearing a heartfelt apology, the intent to start and finish a true conversation about them (one they probably should have had before returning to work, but better late than never) and a promise. A promise that he understands, that is scared too, but that he truly believes they can find their way.
And just like that, she was ready to forgive.
She leant in, smile still bright on her face, and Castle dipped his head to brush his lips against hers. However, it seemed forgiving was going to be much easier than forgetting. The images she had spent the better half of the night fighting off flooded back to the forefront of her mind and she pulled back from the impending we're good now kiss.
"I'm sorry, I can't," she said as she shook her head slightly, hoping to erase the images like an etch-a-sketch. "It's too soon. I just keep seeing her boobs in your face."
She walked away, just a few steps to gain a little bit of distance, a little bit of perspective. She just wanted her mind to stop taunting her like this. She wanted the memories to be gone, for good.
And then came the softly spoken, heartbroken words that managed to do exactly that.
"Do y- do you want me to leave?"
She turned to face him, took in the pained look of regret that was etched so deep in the tired lines of his face and shook her head.
"No," she said definitively, closing the space between them. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired."
And confused, and angry, and a little hurt; but mostly just tired.
She reached up and delicately traced her thumb over his cheek.
"Stay with me?" she whispered the request. "Please."
He nodded, followed as she led him toward her bedroom. He removed his clothing, down to his boxers, as she pulled back the covers and climbed onto the bed. Kneeling, she moved over to his side and placed her hands on his hips. He joined her on the mattress, kneeling before her, and brushed the hair of her ponytail over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispered and she nodded.
"Me too."
She leaned in, kissed him slowly. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting - the taste of betrayal, perhaps - but his lips, his tongue; it just tasted like him. Sweet, loyal, hopelessly in love Castle. And her reservations melted away.
Castle pressed his forehead to hers but cupped her face to keep her close; he didn't want to lose this connection, but he also didn't want her to feel rushed.
"We don't have to," he assured her.
But she shook her head. "I want to."
Still, he hesitated. She knew that was her fault: she had let her emotions lead her actions too much over these past few days. These past few weeks, actually. And now he was being overly cautious, taking on the role that she would usually fill. Because that was how they worked: serious and unserious, head in the clouds and feet firmly on the ground, a hopeless romantic and a logical thinker. They levelled each other other, brought one another to this ideal middle ground that just seemed to work so perfectly for them.
But this? This role reversal they had slipped into, it wasn't them It wasn't right.
"I'm okay, Castle." She assured him with a kiss. "We're okay."
And she was determined for her words to become truth.
She kissed him again, with more urgency than before, and he gave into his desires.
His arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, relished in the feel of her body pressed flush against his.
"I want you," he panted as he moved his attention to peppering kisses along her jawline and down her neck. His hands wandered down her body to her thighs, then glided back up the bared skin and underneath her sleep shirt. "Only you."
"Show me," she whispered. They broke apart, looked into one another's eyes for just a few short seconds before she smiled and repeated her request. "Show me how much you want me."
He did exactly that. He poured all the love he had for her into a long, slow, reverent kiss as he lay her back on her bed. He touched her with gentle hands, like she were a priceless artifact to be handled with the utmost care. Kissed her in a way that soothed the hurt and confusion they had both felt in this tumultuous transition into life outside of their little love bubble. Their love-making was a promise that tomorrow was a new day - undoubtedly with new challenges to face - but no matter what may have come their way, they could figure this out together... they could find their way.
And, in a way that only they could, they righted all their wrongs.