Castle Fanfiction
Ball Drop
S3 AU

12th Precinct Bullpen. New Year's Eve, 2010, 5 p.m.

Castle was putting his coat on. "So, Beckett," he smiled. "Any plans for New Year's Eve?"

"Yup. Me, Indiana Jones, and a bucket of popcorn. You?"

He chuckled. "I'm gonna keep it quiet this year, too. What about Josh?"

"He's in Somalia."

"Well," Rick shrugged. "That's why Skype was invented." He turned to go. "Have a happy New Year."

"Hey, Castle." Her voice was hesitant.

He whirled as if someone had offered him a million bucks. "Yes, Detective Beckett?"

"I tend to make too much popcorn."

"I'm not exactly the sort of person to reign in a friend's excesses."

"Who said I wanted you to reign them in?"

He just blinked.

She said, "Can you be there at 6:30?"

He nodded, speechless a moment, then remembered himself. "May I bring anything?"

"I'm down to my last little packet of hot chocolate."

He practically jumped up and down on his way to the elevator.

8:40 p.m., Beckett's Apartment.

Kate's "plans" for New Years had been modest: an Indiana Jones marathon, Chinese takeout, popcorn, and a bottle or two of red, at her apartment. This sort of thing really is best done in the company of a friend. It was going well... if you count "sitting on either end of the sofa with three feet of cold space between them" as "going well".

But the wine had made them just a little sloppy around the edges, and they both knew it. They didn't dare open the second bottle, rather switching to hot chocolate that Castle made on her stove (he wouldn't let her watch: "Family secret, Beckett.")

She turned her back to the kitchen as he clattered, whisked, and swirled. "Are you using every single pan I own back there, Castle?"

"Do you own a dim sum steamer?"

"Castle! No!"

He laughed. "Gotcha!"

She bent to pop the next movie into the player, and he paused, watching her butt, concealed as it was in sweats and a long cardigan.

"So nice," he mused.

"What?"

"Not going out into freezing January weather in clothes that can't possibly be warm enough, braving traffic and drunks..."

"Oh. Yeah.. and a dearth of cabs..."

"... and an excess of forced frivolity..."

"... and idiots firing bullets straight overhead..."

"... as another year staggers to die in a puddle of slush."

Kate turned to stare at him. "That's..." she frowned in concern. "A little dark for you."

The mood had suddenly sunk. Rick had whipped organic heavy cream, and was dolloping it atop tall, steaming mugs decorated with a blue-and-silver snowflake design. He looked up from his concentration. "What."

Kate repeated, "'Staggers to die in a puddle of slush?'"

Rick went pale. "Oh. My God, Kate, I'm so sorry. I was just..." He hurried over to her, took her hands. "I didn't mean to remind you... God. I feel just sick."

"No, no, it's all right, it's not like I need reminding, I know you weren't, you know."

"I would never even think of joking about that."

She nodded, her brows knit. "But... I thought you liked holidays."

"I do! I do. But sometimes I think we celebrate them out of a sort of desperation," he sighed. "Just marking time, you know? Alexis is nearly gone..." his eyes were on Kate, and he shook his head slightly. He was thinking, much too loudly, the words plain on his face. ("Where are we going, Kate? Or am I walking this road alone?")

Kate squeezed his hand but dropped her eyes, then moved past him into the kitchen to grab the mugs. She glanced around. Despite the noise he'd made, the 'mess' she'd expected consisted of one pot of soapy water, a bowl, a spoon, and a whisk, all soaking together in the sink, and the counters wiped down spotlessly.

She said, "This looks so wonderful," and handed his mug to him. "Cheers."

It's possible that, when she sniffed the cocoa then took her first sip, she deliberately got that smudge of cream on her nose. She let him stare at it a while. His finger twitched. She took another sip and rolled her eyes with a sinful little moan. "Delicious."

Smirking, he said, "You have cream on your nose."

She wrinkled it, then crossed her eyes, and he laughed. She made no move to wipe it off. "I do?"

He took a napkin and moved to dab at it. "I'll just get that for you..." but she parried, evading him.

She tapped her finger on the surface of her whipped cream and aimed for the tip of his nose. "Now we'll match..."

He could have dodged away, but instead closed his eyes and stuck his nose out a little more, a wistful little smile on his face, a smile that begged for hope and mistletoe.

She dabbed his nose with a dot of cream, then on impulse, kissed his cheek. His eyes popped open. "Why, Detective Beckett, that was quite a stealthy move!"

Kate nodded. "You had your guard down." She sat on the couch with her cocoa, and pressed "play" on the remote. "I've only seen Crystal Skull once. Is it as bad as I remember?"

"Probably." He was still a little gobsmacked. About the kiss and all. The gap of 3 feet seemed to be steadily closing.

They watched the movie MST3K style, making snarky comments the whole time. By the time they switched the extras on, there would only have been room between them for one of those pathetic Yellow Pages phone books that never even make it into a house before they're dumped into the recycling. They then watched the extras, and the Crystal Skull disk was finished at about 11:15.

Rick looked at his watch. He didn't want to impose, didn't want to put her in an embarrassing position, at least, not without her consent. And she did have a boyfriend, even if he was apparently off saving the world again. "I should probably get going..."

Kate smirked up at Rick, and her voice was a velvety growl that would have made his knees weak, had he been standing up. "Actually, I hoping you'd stay around to watch the ball... drop."

She

Rested

Her

Hand

Upon

His

Knee.

"This is entirely unfair," thought one side of his brain, while the other side thought "OH DEAR GOD YES YES YES YES."

He cleared his throat, feeling sweat break out on his upper lip, and a part of him started straining like a horse eager to get out of a racing gate made of underwear. All he managed to say was, "Are you... feeling a little hoarse?"

Her
Ohmigod
hand
slid
up
his
right
thigh,
and then took a detour left, exploring. She leaned in, breath warm on his earlobe. "That's not little," she murmured, "and it's not a horse."

"Horse pun?" he gasped, and thrust into her hand instinctively, almost in spite of himself.

"Yes." Now, in a swift and magical move, she was straddling his lap, and the loss of her hand was more than compensated by the press of her body against him. Her green eyes locking on his, she chuckled. "I think it would behoove you to kiss me, now."

"So hot..." his eyes rolled back in his hips as his sockets ground against her. No, that's wrong. It was the other way. He was getting way past hocerence. Coherence. Rick no talk good.

"...Josh?" he gasped. "I, we, you, can't... Beckett, this..."

"I broke up with him."

"You bro- oh?"

Her lips kissed little words against his face, his jaw, his throat.

"I... broke... it... off... two... days... before... Christmas..."

"Why?" He stopped her. He was breathing hard. He was everything hard.

She grew serious. "Because he thought I was in love with you. He said anyone could see it."

Rick's wide eyes took her face between his hands. No, that's not right. Wide-eyed, Rick took her face between his hands. "I thought I did. Then I thought I was wrong. That it was all in my imagination."

She nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry I made you wait."

He swallowed. "That means you..." his voice failed him.

"I do. I want you. I love you."

He squeaked a little. "Really?"

"Yeah," she sighed. Her expression clouded, suddenly uncertain.

He whispered, "I would never have thought you'd be the one to say it first." His eyes began to swim with tears, and he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Nobody's as surprised as I am." Her gaze searched his happy face. "Do you think anyone's gonna say it second?"

"Oh, yeah. Yes!" He kissed her. "I've loved you since..." he shook his head. "Maybe forever. But the horse pun sort of clinched it."

It went on and on, hands roving, clothes unfastened, their whispers and moans bringing a certain holiday cheer to Kate's rather uncomfortable couch. Finally Rick said, "Okay, enough of this." He stood, and for a painful moment she thought he was leaving, then he offered his hand and pulled her to her feet with a smile.

"It's almost midnight," he said. He stooped to kiss her, and held her close for a long moment, the skin of their bare chests warm and slicked with sweat from their prolonged makeout session. "I'd really love to stay."

"Do you want to watch the ball drop?" Kate breathed.

"No. Just our pants."

Half an hour later he was chanting the countdown into her ear, kissing her with each movement: "Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five..."

"OH, migod, so close..."

"Four-three-two..."

"AH! CASTLE!"

"ONE!"

Fireworks.