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Chapter Five
Confronting


A week after they attend his friend's wedding together, Castle sends Kate a text.

Hey - I need your advice on something. Can you come by?

The day and time might seem arbitrary, but for Castle it meets a very specific set of conditions. She'll be comfortable - she'll have changed out of her heels and slacks and into yoga pants and fluffy socks. They closed an easy case yesterday, so she'll have had a decent sleep the night before. To top it off, she doesn't have to work tomorrow. She'll be sliding into Kate, and that's just how he wants her.

He plucks an apple from the fruit bowl and rolls it from hand to hand as he eyeballs his phone. He wonders if she's on the couch with her feet tucked up warm under her thighs. She's probably looking forward to not venturing back out into the world for at least twelve hours. He imagines her blowing out a sigh when her phone chimes. He crosses his fingers that she'll agree to come over, because he's a pretzel of emotions and he desperately needs to talk to her.

The whole week has been a roller coaster ride of confusion. Even though his experiments produced spectacular results, ones that should buoy his confidence, he still doesn't know where he stands with her. And while he would probably wait another four years for her, he just needs to hear something solid from her lips. Not some cryptic promise about a hazy future. Unfortunately, going about things in his own sneaky way (his mother's words, not his) had served only to whip him into an even bigger frenzy.

He supposes he deserves to spend some time in turmoil. He's still haunted by her tears. He was stupid for thinking his diner stunt wouldn't hurt her.

He's not sure why he feels so much more insecure about her feelings for him. So far his hypothesis has held. The facts are definitely there. All the evidence he's gathered points to Kate Beckett being in love with him. But they've solved cases where the evidence says one thing and the truth says another. The only thing that will make him believe is hearing it from her lips.

He is so ready for this confrontation. He's not about to wait for her to find another Josh and waste yet another year.

He swipes at his phone, checking his text log just in case the notification didn't come up on the lock screen.

They've been getting closer, more like true friends every day. The number of out-of-hours texts have been multiplying. Each one he gets in return is an exhilarating little morsel that makes his pulse rush like a damn teenager's. Somehow - and he didn't really think this would happen - they've never metered their reply times, have never played games or pretended to be busy when they weren't. He's never had to wait more than half an hour to hear back from her. It's a very refreshing change from the other women he's dated or been married to.

He puts the phone down and tries to breathe.

A month ago, she might have been alarmed by his simple request. She would have overthought it and asked questions and made excuses. Tonight he hopes she'll just say yes, trust that he wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.

Suddenly the screen illuminates, and his thumb flicks over his password before the alert sound even ends.

Give me a few minutes to change. Are you going to feed me?

He grins as he taps out a response.

Sure thing, but don't change on account of me. What are you in the mood for? Sushi, yakitori, gyoza?

All of the above. And before you ask, no I'm not scantily clad.

Wouldn't dream of asking. Might just dream though.

Mmmhmm.

He grins down at the word she's texted him most often. He knows the exact intonation of her mmmhmm, how it sounds more like a sardonic yeah I'll just bet you do, but he loves imagining the word with an entirely different inflection. A sexy inflection.

Ordering now, he texts. See you soon.


He keeps the TV on so she won't notice right away how devoid of redheads the loft is. They watch a ridiculously bloody Robert Rodriguez film while they feast on an equally ridiculous spread of Japanese food. Even the cuisine was a strategic decision - it doesn't dull his senses like Chinese, get him antsy and fired up like spicy Thai, or send him into a coma like Italian.

He has a strategy for everything tonight. Everything has to be perfect. He wants this to be the beginning of them.

They maintain a respectable distance on the couch, leaning forward every now and then to collect more food. She's sitting cross-legged, turned towards him slightly, and the two feet of space between them doesn't do much to tamp down the occasional flare of heat when it sinks in that they're together and alone, without even daylight to chaperone. But most of the time it's relaxed and them and just perfect.

Every now and then her bare toes wiggle, seemingly independent of her body, and it takes an inordinate amount of effort not to reach for her feet, run his thumbs over the high gloss of her red nail polish, pull her arches into his hands and make her purr with his considerable massage skills.

When she caves he's going to spend absolutely hours exploring her.

He has no idea that she's caught him looking at her. More than once. She hides her smile behind her hand.

Finally, she leans back and rests her hands over her stomach. "I should probably quit while I'm ahead."

He pauses the movie and they bend forward to pack away the leftovers.

"Thanks for dinner, Castle." They've done this enough times that they know they can skip over the platitudes, the 'oh let me help' and the 'don't be silly you're the guest.' They work efficiently alongside each other in this as in everything else, hands brushing a few times as they tidy up, but never reaching for the same box. They're comfortably in orbit.

When the last of the cardboard boxes is tucked into his fridge, Castle makes his first move.

As she's walking back towards the couch, he redirects her towards his office by laying his palm on the small of her back, just low enough to feel where her tailbone starts to curve out. Her steps stutter, and even though it was a calculated move on his part, she recovers faster than he does. He didn't realize how warm she'd feel, how close he could get to her skin through the thin material of her top. The touch runs through his body like a shock, and when he speaks, his voice comes out a little rougher than intended.

"It's in my office. The um, thing I need your opinion on."

She doesn't speak, just nods and forces her feet to move, to step forward even if it means breaking contact with his hand.

He lets her open the office door and follows her inside. He watches as she scans the room. She's never been shy about looking at everything in his loft, and he's not sure if it's a cop habit or if it's because she's trying to gather as much information about him as he's gathered on her.

So of course she spots the handcuffs, laying conspicuously in the center of his desk. She sidles up and traces one metal circle with her fingertip, her mouth curving up into a smile for just a fleeting moment before she schools her features.

"Order these from Amazon, Castle? Thought you might have gone for fur-lined."

He steps up behind her, a little too close, edging in slowly so he doesn't spook her. Here goes nothing.

"I've never actually cuffed anyone," he starts, adding a practiced layer of uncertainty to the statement.

She turns to face him with an almost jaunty grace. He's impressed that she's keeping her cool. She gets it, of course.

"Seriously? You want to try cuffing me for research?"

"Well you did say next time … and there aren't any tigers in here. I even made sure Alexis's stuffed animal collection didn't include a wildcat of any description. It's just - I'm writing this intense chase scene and Nikki cuffs the guy at the end, and I know I've seen you do it dozens of times, but I've never actually done it and I don't think I'm getting it right."

He swallows hard through a very pregnant pause. She just stares at him, and he can't tell if she thinks he's abominably stupid or kind of adorable. That's not really a new look, to be honest.

"Fine," she says. It's a strong, lilting challenge, and it makes him fall just a little bit harder for her. He lets out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding.

"Okay. So I can't decide if Nikki's going to slam him up against a wall or dive into the backseat of his car and cuff him to his headrest."

She rolls her eyes. "His headrest? Really?"

"Hey, it could work."

She bites her lip. It could, actually. Although it would probably never happen in the real world.

"Well, I guess we can try both," she concedes.

"Okay."

"Okay."

Neither of them move.

"I don't want to actually slam you into a wall, though," he says. Well, that's a lie.

"Uh, okay, we can pick up from right after the slamming, then." She steps over to the strip of wall between his bedroom door and the bookshelves. "I hope this is the wall you had in mind, because I'm not letting you act out this little fantasy in your bedroom, Castle."

He presses his hand to his heart in mock affront. "I would never! This location will do just fine."

She turns around and presses herself into the wall. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she mumbles. "Okay, so you've run me down, caught up with me and grabbed the tail of my shirt. I'm cornered. You either shove me straight ahead into the wall or you swing me out to the side and slam me against whatever flat surface is available."

He coughs. Hearing her use her Detective Voice to utter that sinful string of words is really doing it for him.

"Put your forearm vertically between my shoulder blades, hand on the opposite shoulder. If I squirm, dig in with your elbow."

She turns her cheek out, rests it on the wall, and waits.

And waits.

She looks like she's about to tell him to get a damn move on when his forearm arrives in the prescribed position. They both go still. His fingers curl over the smooth, round bone of her shoulder and he leans in, pressing his weight into her slowly, gently.

Her eyes close. Just for a moment. If she doesn't stop looking so unbearably hot he'll never be able to go through with the plan. Screw the plan, maybe he should just press the rest of his body into her and see where it takes them. She seems like she might just go with it this time.

"You should have lit some candles and put on some Marvin Gaye. What the hell are you doing, Castle? I'm a suspect. Treat me like one."

Okay, so maybe more persuasion is needed.

She walks him through the rest of the actions. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was a little disappointed that he didn't touch her like that again. They rehearse the scene a few more times, fine tuning it. She gets stuck at one point and makes him reverse roles so she can consult her muscle memory. All he can think is that it shouldn't feel so good to get arrested.

"I think you've got it now, Castle." Her color is high, cheeks flushed. Maybe from being pressed against the wall, maybe from the proximity of his body. He hopes it's the latter.

"Let me try one more time. Gotta make sure it's perfect," he says.

He takes a deep breath. Steels his resolve. This time when he cuffs her, just before she realizes he's not going to immediately unlock her, he's going to whisper in her ear.

'You're under arrest for the obstruction of the happiness of Katherine Beckett, and for placing unlawful impediments on said victim's well-being.'

And then he's going to come clean about his experiments, and just ask her point blank if she wants to do this with him, dive in, be there for each other. All the time. Not just at work.

But when she turns to face the wall, there's a gleam in her eye that he can't decipher. And when he starts to slap the metal of the cuffs around her wrists, something sharp - her elbow, probably, plows into his solar plexus. She whirls around and tackles him before he can figure out how to suck in a breath, and the world tilts and goes fuzzy before he realizes he's face down on the floor, his arms wrenched behind his back. The cuffs snap closed around his wrists.

"Jeez, Kate." he wheezes. "I get it, I get it. I left myself open, the suspect could have taken me down." Her knee presses into his thigh, sending a weird ache all down his leg that's going to keep him from walking until the blood's allowed to recirculate. "Could you have made your point a little less painfully?"

"Oh, that wasn't really the point I was trying to make." She's smiling, he can tell. He's missing something.

"Uh - what?"

"You do know I'm a detective, right? Do you think I don't know what you've been up to?"

"Um, I haven't been up to anything - "

Kate twists his ear with her free hand and he squeaks. "Really. You're not as good of an actor as your mom, you know. What's tonight about, huh? You trying to get another reaction out of me?"

"No - what? I - "

"You find out what you wanted to know, Ricky?"

His stomach bottoms out, but he has no choice but to stick to his story, to keep playing dumb. "What? When? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Nice try. You of all people should know that's what they all say. I'm not blind, Castle. There's been too many weird things going with you lately. Don't you think I know by now when you're plotting something?"

He careens, looking for a way to get out of the hole he's dug himself into. He's a fast thinker in situations like this, they both know it. But she's a master interrogator and right now she definitely has the upper hand. After all, his face is half smushed into the carpet. He might even be drooling a little bit.

He groans. He didn't think the first time being pinned under Detective Beckett would be this uncomfortable. Or that he'd feel so unattractive.

"You know what I do to scheming, conniving lowlifes, right?" she asks as she presses down on the cuffs. The metal digs into his wrists painfully, recalling bruises that have only just faded from their day spent in the basement.

"I - I didn't - I wasn't thinking - I don't - um -" he whines. "Please don't punish me."

Suddenly, the pressure lets up. Kate lets out a muffled snort. He can feel the ends of her hair brush against his neck, so she must be folded in on herself …laughing? The pressure eases on his thigh and he can feel the crawling tingle of blood rushing down.

"God it's fun to make you squirm," she says, gulping with laughter.

He's completely thrown. He was definitely not expecting this reaction. To be honest, he expected her to be a little pissed off. He'd hoped that the peaceful camaraderie of the evening he'd created would take the edge off of her anger.

"So … you're not mad?"

"Mad? No. I didn't figure out you were up to something until the day after the wedding, and while we were dancing you'd been so … I dunno, kinda sweet, I guess. Just one question, though. What exactly was the goal of all of it? What were you trying to get out of me? You don't have to dig for compliments, Castle, I'm sure there are lots of women out there who'd give them to you for free."

"I'd rather have this conversation in a more dignified position if you don't mind," he says.

"I'll help you sit up. But I'm not going to release you let, Castle. Not sure I can trust you not to try to cuff me. That is what you were going to do, right?"

He sputters, then sees the futility in arguing with her.

"How'd you know I was going to?"

She raises an eyebrow. "It seems you've completely forgotten that I'm a cop."

He leans gingerly against the wall and she slides down to sit on the floor beside him. Not close enough to touch, he notes.

"So you're not mad? Not even about the day my phone was off?"

She turns to him, eyes blazing.

"You did that on purpose?"

Uh-oh. He slumps against the wall as she seethes.

"What the hell, Castle?"

"I take it that means you're not going to un-cuff me anytime soon."

"No." She crosses her arms, shutting down on him. "Jesus, Castle, you scared us sick. Your - oh." He watches it dawn on her, watches as her eyes flatten and dull. "Your family knew." He can see the hurt race across her face, the embarrassment that he played her, reduced her to a sloppy mess in front of Martha and Alexis just to see if she'd react the way he desperately wanted her to.

"I'm sorry, Kate. It was so stupid of me. You know me, I didn't really think it through, and then when I saw how concerned you were … but I've been a wreck about it all week. I just wanted to see if you cared, but I know now that wasn't the way to handle it."

"If I cared? You're my partner, of course I care if you go missing."

"I didn't doubt that you'd look out for me as your partner. But the way you reacted - it was more than it would have been for Esposito or Ryan, right?" he asks. He's got to walk on eggshells if he wants this conversation to get back to where he wants it to go.

"I would have worked just as hard to find them."

He scoots closer to her, nudging her with his shoulder to get her to look at him. "When we hugged in the hallway… would you have held on for as long if it had been one of them?"

She blushes and looks away.

He almost groans, wishing for just one straight answer out of her instead of so many deflections.

"When did you catch on?" he asks, trying a different route.

"You weren't very subtle with that song at the wedding," she says. "It was pretty obvious that you got the DJ to play that for us. That's what tipped me off. After you dropped me off at home, I got to thinking, and I realized that ridiculous game we played at Sports Day was a set up too. Again, I don't get what you were trying to get out of me. I hope to God you weren't just trying to embarrass me in front of the entire precinct."

"No, Kate, God, no. I'd never do that." If he could hide his face in his hands he would. "It was stupid. I was just feeling insecure. I thought I could get a little boost of confidence, something to keep me going. I've just been so confused. But I shouldn't have done it, because it upset you, and it didn't help anyway."

She's quiet, and he turns his head to look at her. She's staring at her hands, her mouth pressed into a line thin with something that looks like regret.

"What do you mean it didn't help?" she asks.

"Because I'm still confused. Even though the results of my, uh, experiments were favorable, it's still not black and white enough for me. I'm just a guy, Kate. A stupid, blundering fool, and I need you to spell it out for me. I thought - I thought you meant me, on the swings. But then so much time passed, and things were like they used to be, only I still went to sleep every night thinking about you, and - "

"I did mean you."

He takes a hard mental stumble.

"You did?"

"Yeah. Thought that was pretty obvious."

"Not obvious enough for me. Obviously."

The corner of her mouth quirks up.

"So … these little tests you were putting me through- "

"Experiments."

"Experiments, then. Tell me about your findings."

"Well, the first test, the toilet paper game, that was to find out if you wanted my hot sexy body, obviously."

"And?" She lets her gaze drop, gives him a once over that almost has his toes curling.

"Um."

"Castle? Focus."

"How am I supposed to focus when you look at me like that?"

"So? Do I want your hot sexy body or not?" she asks, tugging her lip between her teeth.

He shakes his head. "You're such a tease. I'd do something to level the playing field if my hands weren't tied behind my back."

She laughs. This feels right. This feels fun.

"According to my findings," he says, "yes, you do want me. But I can assure you, it's not nearly as much as I want you."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that," she purrs, nearly knocking him off his game.

"Detective, you're so feisty when you let your guard down."

She shrugs. "What's the point of not going all in? I've been waiting a long time for this, Castle. It was always going to be all or nothing, when I finally made a decision. Sorry it took so long," she adds after a long, quiet breath. "So what else? The day you turned your phone off. What did you learn then?"

"The second test, like I said before, was to find out if you cared about me. About my well being, as more than a colleague. Outside of the precinct, when I could be 100% sure that keeping me safe was more about avoiding paperwork."

"You know it's been about more than avoiding paperwork for a long time. If something happened to you I'm not sure I'd recover." Something dark passes over her features.

"I know. I feel exactly the same. We don't have to dwell on it, because it'll just make our jobs harder. Let's just keep having fun and solving crimes, okay?"

"Okay, yeah."

"The third and final experiment - the wedding - well, I wanted to find out if you thought a relationship between us could last."

"And?" she asks. He wishes he could smudge the murky hesitation out of her eyes. This is the one she's having the most trouble with.

"You passed all three tests beautifully, Kate. And if you're crazy enough to want to be with me, I'm sticking. For as long as you'll have me. I can't promise you I'll be perfect, if that's what you're worried about. I'll probably screw up. A lot. But I have never, and will never, love anyone as much as I love you."

"I don't know if I'm ready," she whispers.

"Maybe it's like what they say about having kids - that you'll never really be ready. You just have to learn as you go."

"Alright." She takes in a ragged breath, runs her hands over her thighs. "So you want some concrete evidence, huh?"

He doesn't trust himself with words, only nods.

"Okay then." Kate studies his face, brings her hand up. She strokes one thumb down his cheek and he almost shivers with the pleasure the small, perfect touch brings. "Let's do this. I want to be with you, Richard Castle. You're the only one I want to be with, the only one who's seen all of me and stands by me anyway. I want to try…" she takes a deep breath, "being in a relationship. With you, Castle."

He blinks through the sudden surge of emotion her words bring with them.

"Those are the best words I've ever heard."

Then she bites her lip and smiles. She's so damn beautiful. He clears his throat to thin the rising choke of his love for the stunning, luminous woman beside him.

"I'd like to do another experiment," he says. "You know, just to test the hypothesis one more time. Even though your confession would hold up in any court."

"Oh?" Her eyes search his, a pool of amusement and hope swirling before him. "What kind of experiment?"

Castle leans in, lets his gaze fall to her lips. "I think I should kiss you."

She grins. "Cuffs on or off?"

He'd almost forgotten he was still wearing them.

"On to begin with, if you'd rather. You're in control here, Kate. But all of my highly scientific experiments suggest that you won't find the experience completely miserable. And if you like it … well, then we can try it without the cuffs too."

He's so close now. He nudges her nose with his, her lips sweet and warm and falling open.

"Well, I guess it couldn't hurt, just to experiment," she whispers.

She's smiling when he takes her mouth.

It's soft. Sweet. And when she pulls back, there's wonder in her eyes. And then their lips meet for a second time, and just like their undercover kiss, it heats up fast. Her mouth is velvet under his, their lips crushing together in perfect rhythm.

He slides into her mouth and works to drag out the sexy little groan he remembers so vividly from the alley. Only this time, her lighting fast move isn't a roundhouse kick - it's her leg shooting over his lap, clamping her knees on either side of him. She settles herself onto his thighs and grabs his face, and proceeds to kiss the ever-living breath out of him.

He's about to ask if he can take the cuffs off when he feels her wedge her hands between his back and the wall. He hears the snick of a lock opening and the cuffs fall to the floor, forgotten, as his arms wrap fast and tight around her, pulling her body up against his from navel to neck. She tosses her head back on a gasp, tearing her lips from his, as if the sensations are too much to bear. He dives after her, latching onto her bottom lip and pulling her down with him.


They don't make it to the bed.

The first time.

The mattress is cooling underneath them when Castle wonders aloud if he should change careers.

"Oh?"

"I could totally be a scientist. Not only was my hypothesis 100% correct, I think I just tested it very thoroughly."

"Mmm, very thoroughly," she agrees. "But I think I'd rather you stick with your day job, Castle."

"Yeah. I do have a smokin' hot partner."

She swallows his irreverence with the hard press of her mouth and the swing of her hips.


A/N: I've been the queen of procrastination and have had such a hard time with this story, but you deserved an ending so I worked very hard to give you one. Sorry for its utter rubbish-ness. Thank you all so much for reading and for your encouraging words along the way. Happy New Year and have a very happy Castle Monday tomorrow!