66. 68: Thursday

68

He's asleep and then, without warning, he's awake, like he was hovering on that border, drifting back and forth over the line until something pulled him firmly into the land of awareness.

Castle opens his eyes, blinks slowly to resolve the image before him.

"Kate?"

She stops whatever she was doing at his bedside table, looking at him for a second before she reaches out and runs her fingers gently through his hair. "Go back to sleep, Rick."

"Huh," he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed. "What're you doing?"

"Leaving you a note. Going for a run."

He sighs at the feel of her fingers smoothing through his scalp, her thumb at his ear and circling. Feels good. She feels good. "Time's it?"

"Seven."

He grunts at that, a fleeting wish that she'd - for once - figure out how to sleep in or at least not wake him up every morning of his vacation. Vacation, Kate. It's vacation.

"Go back to sleep," she says.

"Tryin'," he sighs. "Can't keep doing that."

She huffs at him, withdraws her fingers. Not what he meant, the fingers in his hair were nice-

He opens his eyes but she's already walking out the door. Probably for the best. He's worn out; she woke him sometime last night with her cold fingers against his back, her cold toes at his calves-

Castle sighs to himself and rolls over, groans at the light pouring in through the windows, spilling over the bed, prying open his eyelids.

Damn it, Kate.

He wakes again when she turns on the shower.

He curses to himself and burrows back down in the pillow, tries to block out the lure of Kate naked under the water, because it's not gonna happen. He is seriously exhausted and as much as he likes watching her, what he's really craving is uninterrupted sleep.

After he closed the wooden blinds and crawled back into bed, he dropped off immediately. Castle cracks an eye open and glances at the alarm clock, sighs. Almost nine. Probably should get up. She'll expect him to get up.

Wait. She ran for two hours?

Damn, this is annoying. She's so closed off sometimes, and hard to reach when she gets like that, hard to pull back out. She doesn't want to be pulled back out; she wants to be alone. And he. . .doesn't.

Castle opens his eyes and lies there for a moment more, listening to the shower, wondering if maybe his daughter was right all along. Three weeks of vacation is too much, too long. He and Kate should've gone back with his daughter-

But her place was broken into; Kate's place was broken into and stuff was taken and that scares the shit out of him still.

And that's why they're here in Belize and not at home.

So what if it's nine in the morning? He ought to stop pouting like a child because he's in Belize with Kate Beckett - prickly or reserved or quiet, does it matter?

Get over it, Rick. Happens.

Six months ago, when he was certain she couldn't love him back, when he felt pretty sure that she was just humoring him, or stringing him along, or whatever, back then he thought this would never be possible. Six months ago, he remembers quite clearly feeling like if she could just love him back, he'd never ask for anything else ever again.

Castle gets out of bed and stretches, yawning past his reluctance to move, scoops a tshirt off the floor. He pulls it on over his head and moves into the living room, rubbing at his eyes.

Six months ago, all he wanted was this. This right here, what he has, and he's not going to screw it up just because they're getting on each other's nerves. He'll just have to do better.

Castle stops in the kitchen, remembers how she balked at going out for coffee yesterday and the day before. He starts up the coffee maker - this one doesn't have a timer, so he's seen her not quite so patiently waiting for it to brew. He puts in a filter, measures the grounds, adds a little bit of sugar and a hint of vanilla (he will never tell her he does that, because she's always so delighted by the way he makes coffee).

He pours water into the back, sets the coffee pot on the burner. He listens and can still hear the shower, so he scrapes a hand through his hair, scratching, and heads back for the bedroom.

Maybe she'll let him share the last of it. Never know.

Kate slips past him as he steps into the wide shower, standing still only long enough for his good morning kiss. She opens the shower door and the steam billows out, disperses, and the rich scent of every perfect good morning hits her.

"I smell coffee?" she murmurs, looking back at him.

He grins as he switches off with her. "Yeah, got up and started it."

She remembers, suddenly, their fight in her apartment and how he admitted that he brings her coffee to see her smile. Kate reaches for her towel with her heart sinking at her own selfishness.

He made her coffee; she's not sure she's smiled at him once this morning.

Kate pauses, one hand on the shower door, regarding him for a moment. Castle ducks his head under the water, closing his eyes. She comes back for him, reaching out for his waist. He startles when she touches his sides, glances over at her with water streaming down his face.

"Thank you," she says softly, her body close to his, smiling at him gently.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging at her, turning back and reaching for his shampoo. Like it's nothing. She wraps her arms around him and he lets out a startled breath. "Whoa. Kate."

"I love your coffee," she says, laughing a little, her mouth at his shoulder, tasting the water on his skin, hoping he can feel her smile. He deserves it, the smiles, at the very least.

"Uh, yeah. I can tell." He clasps his hand over hers at his chest, twists his head to look at her draped all along his back. Slick and wet, her skin heating his. Her chin digs into his shoulder as she watches him, confident that this is right; she owes him this.

"Castle," she says, her lips quirking.

"Oh," he says with a laugh. "This is an invitation?"

"You made me coffee."

"Ah, so this is payment. Got it."

She smirks again, but she doesn't want him feeling like that. "Wasn't thinking payment," she says, tilting her head to get at his ear, up on her tiptoes and straining against him. He feels good, her body feels good stretched out over him. "You want it to be?" she asks, and her voice is throatier than she wanted it.

"No," he says on a gasp, twisting around to press himself against her. "Save my payment for later. Lay-away. Something. This can just be-"

"Fun," she whispers.

He kisses her before she can say anything else.

Kate sits with her knee up, the sun in her eyes as she sips her coffee and looks at Castle over the rim of the mug. He watches her for a moment, then drinks his own cup, looks away from her.

The staring and touching - he must know she's fed up with that. He's pushed it to the limit these past few weeks, and she wishes he'd get that under control again. Still, watching him now, his body sprawled out on the chair next to hers, sun-warmed with his hair in his eyes from her hands, he looks good. And she can kinda see the attraction in all that staring.

When Castle cuts his eyes back to her really quickly, she shakes her head on a smirk and shifts her gaze to the water in front of them, her body relaxed again.

He doesn't reach for her, doesn't say anything, just lets the moment go on like it is.

Good. That's better.

He can learn. She can learn too. Right? They'll probably have a lot more days like yesterday, but they just have to find a balance. She needs to not be on vacation with him for three weeks, first of all, and when they're back in New York, when she can go home, then it will be better. It'll work out. Smooth out all the bumps.

She doesn't want to have to. . .talk to him about it. If she says, Castle, stop she's pretty sure he wouldn't understand; she'd hurt his feelings. And she doesn't want to do that. She doesn't want another scene like their fight in her apartment, where he bares his soul to her, and she flinches.

He wants to make her smile; that's all, right? She can do that. She can.

Kate reaches over and lays her hand over his, fingers sliding between his; he stretches his fingers to let her, draws her hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of her hand.

He's not looking at her, even now, but she sees the smirk of his lips and it's enough.