She’s tight-lipped around Lanie for a few days until she can’t keep it to herself any longer. She bursts in the day after Castle’s drop-in, knows she can’t hold him off any longer.

She needs someone to tell her what to do.

“I need your help,” she confesses, all breathless and flustered.

“You finally gonna tell me what happened between you and Castle the other night?” Lanie asks, lifting her head away from the body she’s examining.

“We kinda…” She bites her lip. “We made out a little.”

She flicks on the faucet and plugs the drain before she rolls up her sleeves.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” His breath is warm against her neck, his hand solid at her back as he slides to her side. She swallows hard, clenching her fists under the trickling water. She shifts her weight and waits for his hand to fall away.

“You made dinner,” she starts weakly. “Least I can do.” She picks up a glass and a sponge, busying herself with the mundane task.

“But we haven’t even had dessert yet.” His voice is low, raspy, practically dripping with sex and oh, she’s a little dizzy. The cup slips out of her fingers and falls into the water, splashing her in the face, prickling awareness back into her vision.

“You’re calling about a body, right?” he asks inanely as he steps into his bedroom, shucking his pants for more appropriate attire.

“No, Castle, I’m calling to ask your opinion on what I should wear into the precinct today.”

He stops, perks up immediately. “Really?”

“No,” and he can see the all-too familiar roll of her eyes. “Of course there’s been a murder, Castle.”

He scrubs a hand down his face. “It wouldn’t happen to be in Chelsea, would it?”

She lets out a low groan. “Is this your way of telling me that I’m going to have to arrest you?”

He smirks. “No, but let’s come back to that later.”

The missing phone conversations between the writer and his muse. Starting from Season One and continuing to the present. For Richard Castle, please press one.

Kate spends the rest of the day on bated breath while she fills out paperwork and entertains Castle with a handful of crossword puzzles. By the time five o’clock comes around, the tension in her limbs is mostly gone, seeping out of her in a slow exhale. The fear doesn’t crawl down her spine now, merely a breath of air against her skin.

So when Castle suggests that they grab a bite at their favorite little Italian place near home, she readily accepts, almost giddy now that the day has come to an end. As soon as they step into the elevator, her hand is in his and he’s grinning like an idiot and starts rambling a little tale about Esposito getting in trouble with Gates for avoiding his paperwork. The story spills from his lips all the way to the cab and she really did not think she was in the bathroom that long.

She shushes him with the sweet slide of her lips against his, a hand pressed to his beating heart. He grins into her mouth, message received loud and clear, and oh she’s wanted to do this all day.

Complete.

He reappears, bright-eyed and pleased with her compliment. “Should be ready in a few minutes,” he promises, leading her into the kitchen. She leans her hip against the island as he settles himself in front of the stove, lifting a wooden spoonful of sauce to his lips.

“Mmmm,” he moans, licking his lips. He holds it out to her, cupping the air just below it. “Wanna try it?”

She hesitates only a second before she leans forward and wraps her lips around the utensil, swiping her tongue along the rim. Delicious.

“It’s fantastic,” she hums, flicking her eyes away from his darkening gaze.

She hasn’t even been here five minutes yet.



Season Two AU. 

She lasts ten minutes in the precinct before she drags his chair away, all too much a reminder of the choice he made—to put Nikki Heat to rest and start anew with a shiny British spy. Season Two AU.

I must admit I’m not a fan of this whole “breaking down new walls” thing. I get that Castle’s dad is a mystery, but I don’t think that Castle himself is a mystery.

We’ve already been down this road with Kate. And quite frankly, I don’t think Castle has quote “walls” around him that need breaking down.

Days of Summer: The Final Chapter

She sinks her teeth into her lip, nudging her nose below his ear. “You think we can tire Alexis out so she falls asleep early tonight?” she asks. She brushes her mouth against his skin before sucking it a little, her fingers curling into his shirt.

His Adam’s apple bobs, his fingers bruising at her hips. “I think that can be arranged,” he rasps.

She can’t think of anything better to end this tragic day than losing herself in him, the feeling of his skin slick against hers, filling her up.

“Mommy!” the little blue-eyed boy is breathless with happiness as she wraps him up in her arms, pressing a kiss to his sticky cheek.

“Hi baby,” she breathes, nudging her nose against his. He giggles, looking adorably rosy in the Santa pajamas Castle had picked out for him weeks before.

“We’re baking cookies.” Tommy slips his little hand in hers and tugs her into the kitchen where her husband’s waiting, spots of flour covering his face, wooden spoon in hand.

“Looks like Daddy’s wearing most of it,” she teases, smacking a parting kiss to his head as she lifts him easily onto the stool. He immediately snatches up a cookie cutter and goes to work, his small tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.


Complete.