#castlefic

oh what’s this? *dumps art*

“Castle, what are you doing?” Kate asks when he’s pushing her into the archives, closing the door behind them before he’s pushing her further into the room.

“You’re so hot in this skirt and top it’s impossible to stay away any longer,” he murmurs as he’s pushing her body onto the small desks right beside the archives, his hands going down her sides as his lips crashes against hers.

The moan roaring from her throat is impossible to stop. She’s seen his stares, seen the heat in his eyes every time his eyes have landed on her ever since she showed him the undercover clothes she’d put on. His hands travel her sides and before she can do anything one of his hands has sneaked under her skirt and is touching her heat through the fabric of her panties. Turning her into a moaning mess.

“Fuck, Castle,” she gasps when he slips her panties to the side.

He takes her mouth again. His teeth nibbling her lower lip makes her insides tingle even more. He groans into her mouth then and now she’s the one nibbling on his lip, feeling his body’s excitement increase. His body which is moving against hers in the same rhythm she’s moving hers against his.

Kate turns her head away from him to get air into her lungs. His lips simply finds their way to her naked skin on her neck. It’s both tickling and, oh so, enticing.

“Rick, we’re in the archives, we shou-oh,” she moans when he starts sucking on her pulse.

No, they shouldn’t. But, oh, they did. With zero regrets.

Kate sighs, snuggling into the soft sheets of her and her husband’s bed. Forcing one eye open, she peeks at the clock, which reads 6 AM. Groaning, she rolls over, hoping to get some more sleep. However, she knows it won’t happen. Not that she minds, much.

Sure enough, the soft patter of little feet reaches her ears and soon, the bed dips. 

“Momma,” her daughter’s soft voice whispers.

Kate hears the quiet snort of her husband on her other side. It earns him a discreet whack.

“Momma,” Lily tries again.

Kate turns around, smiling as her daughter pokes her.

“What’s up, Lil?” she asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Choco,” the toddler intones seriously and Kate has to keep herself from laughing.

“It’s early, baby. Let’s get some more sleep and then we can unlock the chocolate,” Kate insists to no avail. Lily attempts to tug her out of bed, an adorable pout on her face. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once their daughter scampers out of the room, Castle chuckles, rising from the bed.

“This is your fault,” she mumbles, slipping on her robe and slippers, heading for the kitchen.

“Well, she is a Castle through and through.” He smirks, going for the bathroom.

Rolling her eyes, Kate enters the kitchen, grinning when she notices Lily standing on her tip toes near the island.

“Up you go,” Kate murmurs, hoisting the little girl onto the seat. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Choco!” Lily chants, hands waving.

 “Okay, okay.” Kate snickers, knowing nothing else will get done until this particular task is complete. “You’ll get your treat.”

It’s only one anyway.

 Yay!’ The little brunette claps her hands, beaming. “Daddy!”

“I’m coming,” he calls, now dressed. He smiles as he approaches them, giving her a quick kiss on the lips and Lily a peck on the head. “You ready?” he asks their daughter.

“Yes!”

“Alright then.” Reaching toward the wall, he pulls off a calendar in the shape of a tree, laden with numbers, and places it in front of the toddler. “So, which one are you going to open today?”

Lily glances at the calendar as her eyebrows furrow in thought, making Kate’s heart melt. She’s so cute!  After a moment, she flips open one of the flaps. The fact that it’s the correct one makes Kate beam with pride as Lily grabs the chocolate piece inside.

“Very good, Lil!” she and Castle praise.

“How many days do we have left?” he inquires.

The toddler holds out her hands, opening and closing them twice.

“That’s right! Twenty days until Christmas!” Kate exclaims, reaching over and tickling her daughter’s belly, earning high pitched giggles and squeals.

“Santa’s time,” Lily states.

“Yep, Christmas is Santa’s time to shine,” Castle says, winking at his wife. The Santa costume is tucked away in the back of their closet, waiting to be used on the day of festivities. Ever since Lily was born, Kate’s found herself to be more in the holiday spirit, much to Castle’s delight.

“But that’s not for another few weeks. Until then, we’ll count down the days.” Kate murmurs, her chin resting on top of Lily’s head.

“More choco,” Lily chirps.

“Tomorrow,” Kate promises. “One day closer to Christmas.” She glances at the calendar, eyeing the remaining compartments.

A little silly, maybe. Hope y’all enjoy it nonetheless.

She's annoyed. Scratch that. She's pissed.

The two men, who have been acting more like little boys, one a former lover and the other- whatever he is, have gotten on her last nerve. She glowers, their bickering ringing in her ears.

"Oh for god's sake, why don't you both just drop your pants and get it over with?" she snaps, exasperated. The response she receives isn't one she expects, even from Castle.

Without a word, the man in question stands up, his hand reaching for his fly. She wants to object, she should object. They're in the damn precinct, after all. However, some sick, and maybe overly curious, part of her wants to know if all the tabloid stories are true. So, she watches.

He unzips his fly and undoes the top button of his pants. Then, he drops his pants, leaving them to pool in a black puddle of fabric around his ankles. He, much to her disappointment, leaves his boxers on, but they little to the imagination. Of course, her eyes betray her, sliding to inspect what's contained beneath the blue cotton.

"So?" he inquires, wagging his eyebrows at her.

Biting her lip, Kate feels a flush grow on her cheeks. From what she can discern, the claims about his size are most definitely true. His...parts are clearly outlined through the fabric, the bulge prominent and seemingly long. And his ass doesn't disappoint either, her fingers itching to grab one of the well rounded cheeks. Her mind begins going places, places she’s promised herself to never wander to.

Once she snaps out of it, she glares, lips pursed.

"What's wrong with you?" she snips. "Pull up your pants."

It takes all of her willpower not to look at his attributes one more time as he complies with a cheeky grin. Mmm, cheeky.

Stop it, Kate.

He turns to Will, an expectant look on the author’s face.

"No thanks," Will answers, a look of utter disgust on his face. "I'll pass."

His answer isn't a surprise, since he does have a little more decorum. However, there's a flash of insecurity in his eyes, and Kate has to fight the snicker building in her throat. Will's decent in that department, but Castle beats him by a mile.

Speaking of mile...

Shaking her head, she fights with herself to not linger on the thought. So, she directs them back to the case.

She tries to not think about it for the rest of the time. However, the moment nags at her. It doesn't help that she sees his chest as he suits up for the drop off. And, part of her finds it cute when he rambles about ying and yang.  

When he offers to celebrate with a drink, she declines, smirking.

"I have a date, actually."

"You date?" She almost rolls her eyes at his shocked tone. "With who?"

Without missing a beat, she grabs his hand, dragging him to the elevator. Once they're safely inside, she backs him up against the wall, the expression on his face a cross between confused and aroused.

"You," she purrs. "And those boxers of yours."

"I knew you enjoyed my little display," he crows in delight.

"I like having evidence," she explains, a hand lowering to his crotch. "To support any claims made." She cups him through his pants, forcing a growl from his throat.

"I hope I don't disappoint," he jokes, just as the elevator doors open. She tosses him a smirk as she walks off the lift, hips swaying.

When they get to her apartment, their hands are on each other immediately, clothes strewn across the floor as they travel to her bedroom.

When they're done, he rolls off of her, raising an eyebrow.

"So?" he questions, a playful smile on his lips.

"The claims have been certified, I think," she teases.

"You think?" A boyish pout forms on his face.

"I need more evidence," she states before capturing his lips with hers, hooking a leg around his thigh.

 Set before Season 7.

Kate sighs, her fingers curling around the handle of her umpteenth cup of coffee for the evening. She lifts the cup to her lips and takes a small sip, grimacing. It's bitter, but these days it always is, given her inability to recreate the special taste he gave her coffee every morning.

Shaking her head, she leaves the break room and returns to her desk in the otherwise empty bullpen. Everyone else left hours ago, but she hangs around, bathing under the light of her lamp as she buries her head in work. It's not like she has anything or anyone to go home to anymore.

As she works, the sound of someone shuffling reaches her ears. She pays the person no mind, knowing it's the janitor cleaning up for the night.

While she reads the file in front of her, the employee gets closer, sweeping around the desks and chairs. The person's slow, which means they're probably new and want to do a good job. Regardless, Kate doesn't plan on moving an inch.

When the person finally reaches her desk, Kate glances up and shoots the man, who is most definitely a newcomer, a polite smile. However, Kate isn't prepared for what happens next.

Just as the brunette turns to her stack of papers, the janitor grips the chair, his chair, and begins to drag it away. Kate's head snaps up, her gaze burning holes into the man’s head.

"What are you doing?" she hisses to the poor, confused young man.

"The chair is old and it's clear no one sits in it," he explains. "I'm just going to move it so it’s not in the way.”

He starts to slide it across the carpet again, but Kate stands up, swiftly throws her hand out and clutches onto one of the arms of the chair.

"Put it back," the detective growls.

"But-"

"I said put it back!" Her voice is loud, almost a shout.

The janitor immediately drops the piece of furniture in fright before readjusting it back to its original position.

"Never touch that chair again, got it?" Kate snaps. "It stays where it is." A tentative nod is the only response.

The poor man scurries off, far away from the detective. Once he’s gone, Kate glances at the chair, a sob building in her throat. She refuses to remove it or let anyone else sit in it. It's his chair, it will always be his chair.

And even if she has to move heaven and earth, he will be sitting next to her again.

Rick hums, opening the door to his loft, stepping inside, carrying the mail under his arm.

 “Hey, babe,” Kate greets from her spot on the couch, glancing up from a book. Not one of his, unfortunately.

 “Hey,” he replies distractedly, rummaging through the papers in his hand. “Looks like you’ve got mail.” He hands her a small envelope, the sender’s address written in blocky letters.

 Taking it, she frowns, arching an eyebrow. “There’s no return address.” Nevertheless, fingers rip the top of the envelope, pulling out a regular sheet of paper. Her eyes glance over it, the frown morphing into a scowl.

 She bolts up from the couch, her bare feet stomping on the wood floor as she strides toward the garbage. However, as she passes him, he snags the letter from her, wanting to know what’s upset his wife.

 “Castle!” she scolds, reaching up to grab it, but he holds his hand high in the air, reading it aloud.

 “Detective Beckett,” he recites, pursing his lips. “What gives you the right to decide what’s corrupt? Nothing, that’s what! I cannot fathom how you came to the conclusion that you did. Regardless, a low-level cop such as yourself obviously does not understand the magnitude of your mistake.” The hell?

 “Keep reading,” she murmurs in a resigned tone.

 “How DARE you arrest Senator Bracken. The good he has done for the state of New York is more than you’ll ever do in your sorry little life.” He snorts in disbelief. “I hope you burn in hell.” Shaking his head, he grumbles, “Of course it’s not signed. Coward.”

 “Yeah, well, let me throw it away,” she slips it from him and throws it in the bin.

 “I can’t believe someone had the audacity to send that,” he hisses, anger boiling inside him. They’ve been in near death situations multiple times, but this one letter makes him fear something he never really thought about.

 She lifts her shoulders, giving him a sad smile. “I’ve gotten worse regarding the incident.”

 Huh? “Since when?”

 “A few weeks after he was arrested, I started getting letters, threatening me and degrading me for putting him behind bars.” She doesn’t seem too affected. “I still receive them now and again, but it’s died down.” He knows the snide remarks come with the job, but not this.

 “How come I didn’t know about it?” Surely, he would notice numerous letters without a return address.

 She sighs, eyes filled with an apology. “You weren’t here.”

 The statement cuts deeper than it probably should. The fact that he couldn’t protect his wife from receiving vicious letters digs at him, adding to the long list of things of how his absence affected his family.

 “Well, that is going to get fixed,” he announces. “I’ll go down to Eduardo-”

 “Babe-“

 “I’ll tell him that needs to get rid of all letters without a return address. Hell, set them on fire-“

 “Babe-“

 “Or maybe not, since they could have arsenic in them-”

 “Castle!” she shouts, interrupting his ramblings.

 “Yeah?” He looks at her, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

 “Now that I have your attention,” she starts, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s fine. There’s no reason to bother Eduardo; they’re just letters.” She plants a quick kiss on his lips.

 “But they’re awful,” he insists. “Also, what if one of them had been poisoned?” His writer’s imagination begins to go into overdrive, all the horrifying possibilities running through his head at once.

 “They’re not bad, they’re just like your fan mail.” That earns her a disapproving glance. “Just less endearing and more infuriating.”

 Huffing, he sees her point, mostly. However, that doesn’t mean he won’t sneak down to the doorman later and direct Eduardo to toss any suspicious looking packages or letters addressed to her. It’s least he can do for not seeing it sooner.

 Standing on her tiptoes, she brushes her lips against his, distracting him from his thoughts.

 “Stop blaming yourself.’

 “I wasn’t-“

 “You’re weren’t thinking very loudly,” she teases.

 Chuckling, he wraps his arms around her before sobering. “I just hate the thought of you receiving those, all while dealing with my disappearance.”

 “I forgot about them as soon as I threw them in the trash. My mind was strictly on finding you,” she murmurs, lips grazing his jaw. “Although, your protectiveness is kind of hot. Now, come on and help me make dinner.”

 He relents, allowing her to drag him into the kitchen.  As they pass the trash can, he resists the temptation to throw a match into the container and light the malicious words on fire.

Rick stands, grasping the handle of Montgomery’s coffin, listening to his partner recite the eulogy. He may be the wordsmith, but she can be just as well spoken when needed.

As she speaks, he notices a strange glint. It’s barely visible under the gleaming sun, but he still spots it, horror overcoming him when he realizes what it is.

“Beckett!” he shouts, his body springing into action.

He pushes her out of the way, knocking her to the ground. He ignores the shouts and screams from the audience as they both hit grass.

“Wha-“ she starts, gazing at him in confusion.

“I thought I saw something,” he says, beginning to think he’s crazy. He looks around and a second later his worst fear is confirmed. Laying on the ground only a foot from them is a bullet. A sniper’s bullet to be exact.  “And I was right.”

“What the hell?” Esposito demands, him and Ryan surrounding them. Rick merely points to the bullet.

“Shit,” Ryan swears. “We’ll start canvassing the area, see if we can find anyone.”

As the two depart, others come, voicing their concerns to the duo. Beckett waves them off as she sits up, shaking her head.

“I’m fine,” she reassures everyone. Her eyes flicks to him, a grateful smile on her lips. “Thanks for that.”

“Always,” he murmurs, his gaze locking with hers.

While he appears calm, alarm bells go off in his head. Not only could she have been killed, but the incident is a reminder that her mother’s case is far from over.

“Let’s go back to the precinct,” she says. He begins to protest, but she shakes her head. “I was almost killed, and I’m sure it won’t take long for whoever it is to learn that the shot failed. I’d rather be somewhere secure.”

He nods in understanding, following her to the car. He’d rather not have another attempt on her life today.

However, he’s sure another one will follow.

It never comes, for whatever reason, but he’s thankful for it.

It’s been two weeks since the attempt on her life and very little has changed between them, at least on the outside. To others, it would seem as if they’re just partners, but he notices the extra smiles she’s been giving him, the increased glances and finger brushing when she reaches for her morning coffee.

He’s unsure of where they stand though, and he so wants to know.

When it comes to the case, they’ve hit a dead end and upon the insistence of the newly installed Captain Gates, have ceased investigating it, much to Beckett’s consternation. However, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was investigating off the clock, as usual.

As he sits in his customary chair, Beckett’s phone rings and she glances at it, rolling her eyes.

“Josh?” he questions. “Isn’t he in Haiti or something?”

“I wouldn’t know and it was Lanie,” she answers, lips pursed.

“You haven’t spoken to him?” Huh.

“Not since two weeks ago.”

Two weeks ago? That would mean…

“You haven’t talked to him since the shooting?”

“Nope.” Her eyes flick around, checking to see if anyone’s listening. “We, uh, broke up, actually?”

Oh…Oh!

“Really?” He tries to sound concerned. “What happened?”

She sighs, glancing up from her paperwork. “He called me the day of the shooting, and I guess he could tell I had had a rough day. He asked me what was wrong and I found myself not being to say anything. He didn’t know about my mom, let alone the case, and I knew he wouldn’t understand. He was nice, don’t get me wrong, but I realized it wasn’t fair to him to leave him in the dark like that.” She shakes her head. “I want to be able to talk to someone and let them see that part of me without issue.”

He’s about to say ‘I do” but her eyes meet his, making clear that she knows.

“I see,” he murmurs. “So what was Lanie texting you about?”

She chuckles, huffing. “Setting me up on a blind date. I told her no.”

“Good,” he blurts out, causing her to eye him. “Just that, ya know, maybe too soon?” It’s a weak suggestion and they both know it.

“Nah, I’m just not interested.”

He hums, leaning back in his chair. He doesn’t what it is, but her revealing that information seems to bring something new between them, assuaging some of the tension.

He wonders what’s to come.

Rick smiles, enjoying the happy ending he’s witnessing

“A writer and his muse, fighting crime just like us,” he says.

“Yeah,” Beckett murmurs. From his peripheral vision, he can tell she’s not looking at the doors. “So, uh, I was wondering, would you like to go to Remy’s?”

There’s an uncertainty about her, telling him this is more than just a routine stint at their favorite diner.

“Sure,” he chirps. “I’m buying though.”

“Good, because it wouldn’t be date if you didn’t,” she jokes.

He freezes for a second, grinning when she doesn’t correct herself.

“Got it.”

They enter the elevator, standing close to one another.

“So, the usual?” he asks as the lift moves downward.

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I might try something new.”

A moment later, he feels the warmth of her hand encasing his and on instinct he reciprocates.

“I think I will too,” he responds and she bites her lip, ducking her head. It’s adorable.

“Let’s do it then,” she says as the step off the elevator.

Completing the Caskett story in baby steps... ‘cause that’s how it worked, didn’t it?