2. Two: Monday

Two

by chezchuckles

She's taking it easy in the bathtub, trying not to feel the bruise in the shape of a thumb at her neck, the throbbing at the base of her spine, the tight pinch of her ribs, when she realizes she's doing such a good job of ignoring the hurt that she's drifted right off into fantasy.

What she wants him to do, the heat of the water and his mouth, the slide of soap-

Kate presses her wet hand to her cheek and sits up, heart pounding suddenly with memories of that night, their one night, and she doesn't want to be here. She wants to be there, so badly, but she's done with selfishness when it comes to him. She's done. She will do what's good for him, for once. She'll be good.

Doesn't stop her from wanting him though. Doesn't keep her from thinking about the stunned gasp into her mouth, the thud of her body against the door, the press of him over her, into her, and the way his adoration made her whole being narrow to the pinpoint existence of them.

And then waking up to him, spending all morning in bed, the sunlight pouring over them. He studied her body as he studied everything else about her, his fingers gentle on the bruised places, not asking, not even a heavy sigh, and she was so grateful to ignore it and just have him. Until lunch, and then she left. So he could be a father to Alexis.

She spent last night alone, and she didn't want to, but his daughter - and that's important - but she's not doing this again. She's not going to spend another day half-hating Alexis for keeping them apart, and half-hating herself for not figuring this out sooner.

She dries off slowly, carefully avoiding the marks of her fight with that sniper - with death incarnate - winces as she hangs the towel back on the bar. The night before she didn't seem to notice. The night before-

When she checks her phone this morning: She still needs me.

And even though it shoots heat straight through her to read that, even though she wants to say, That makes two of us, she texts him back: Don't leave her.

And then because she doesn't want him to doubt her, not any longer: Last night was miserable without you. So come when you can.

And then because she knows how his mind works: Yes, like that too.

She's done everything she can think to do last night and this morning and all she has left is pacing the floor.

Yesterday when she got home, the place silent and drab, she closed the shutters, but it blocked out the light and it felt disingenuous, like maybe she doesn't know what she wants - but she does know. So she opened them again and stopped looking, just dismantled the evidence of her obsession piece by piece. It wasn't even hard; it came down easily. She never once hesitated.

Everything went into a box and then in her closet. Maybe she should show him? Maybe this should be something he does with her, a catharsis, the two of them getting rid of it. Cleaning it out of her life. Their life.

Their life.

Her heart pounds again, palms damp, and she needs him here. Really, how long does it take to coddle an eighteen year old?

That's unkind. She remembers how that felt - that things will never be the same again, that it will never go back to being good, that the life you knew with your family is finished and-

Well, it turned out to be true for Kate. She went away to college, came back at Christmas only to have her mother murdered the next month. And so Alexis is right to feel needy - things happen and it might not ever be the same again.

And fiercely, desperately, Kate wants that to be true. Real. Because Kate wants to be part of it, inside of it, with him, and that means it will change for Alexis, that there won't be just her father, and that's scary, for them both, for all three of them no doubt, but it's what has to happen. Because she is not letting go.

But first, Kate needs to be careful. Selfless. She's not going to take anything from them, not anymore. She also can't recreate herself around another person. She can't make Castle into the substitute for her job, her obsession. This is what she's been afraid of all this time, and it doesn't feel like that's what she's doing, but she has to be so careful. For him. For Alexis too.

Which is why Kate spent last night alone. Because Alexis needs him more.

She's packed a bag because she doesn't want to stay here, (all their terrible fights started here, at her place) and maybe it's superstitious (even though she's not) and maybe it's shying away from the hard parts, but she doesn't want to be here any longer, at ground zero for everything wrong.

Kate makes a circle through the living room, back towards the kitchen, stops at the door and stares at it, willing it-

When the knock does come, she startles so hard that she bites her tongue. Her hands shake as she reaches for the lock, twists the knob, and it's him, him, finally-

"Castle."

Then she's at him, not even letting him in the door, her mouth on his hot and hard and desperate because maybe he's too good for her, maybe she's not made it clear enough, maybe a night apart changes things, maybe this is more fragile than she knows.

His arms come around her tightly, lift her off her feet; she gasps into his mouth and stiffens, hides the reaction by drawing a leg up-

"Kate?"

Not enough. Didn't hide it well enough.

"You've got - there's a bruise on your neck too. Your back I saw but now. And your arms - you couldn't reach up in the shower. What happened?"

So now the questions. Now comes reality.

She tilts back from him, heart pounding, need colliding with cold fear, deja vu washing over her sickeningly at that question, but they figured it out, he listened and she talked for once, and they can do this too.

"Got in a fight with the sniper. Got choked," she admits, wincing at the look in his eyes. His fingers feather along her neck, but he can't seem to stay away; his mouth comes back to hers, soft and reverent, his tongue touching the edge of her lips and sliding inside.

Oh that's good.

Everything is good. His body cradles hers, nudging her back until she trips over the bag in the entryway, has to clutch his arms to keep from falling.

She laughs and catches his smile, sees him glance down and figure out what they've stumbled over.

"You think you're coming home with me?" he smirks, that smile getting wider, easier.

She nods, lips spreading, body leaning back in towards his. But maybe Alexis-?

He nudges her nose with his. "You don't want to - hang out here?"

She brushes an open-mouthed kiss against his jaw, slides her hands around his back. "Hanging out isn't what I had in mind."

He lets out a laugh, fingers at her hipbones and digging a little too hard, but she won't complain so long as he doesn't stop. His mouth comes back to hers, slowing them down, and she curls her hand at his neck, liking the way he lavishes her with his touch.

"Your bed is bigger," she says finally, lifting her eyes to his.

He grins. "I haven't even seen your bed."

"We can fix that," she says immediately, forgetting entirely that she wanted to get out of here, and laces their fingers together so he knows what happens next.

She doesn't even have to tug this time; he leads the way, eager to check out her bed.

She shivers but lets him touch, watching him for signs of sorrow, for a reason to cut him off. But he's not sad, just thoughtful, and his palm is warm and light at her back as he traces the contours of the ugly bruise spread at the base of her spine.

"It hurt?" he says finally.

"Yeah."

"Still?"

She nods into the pillow, but reaches back and catches his hand, brings it to her mouth. "Not enough to stop."

He does smile at that, and crowds closer, drawing her up into him. She curls at his body and then kisses the soft underside of his jaw, the warm and musk-scented skin at his neck. She could stay here forever.

"Kate," he says quietly, and he does it again, puts her off, his hands gentle on her cheeks and this time his eyes apologetic. Like he doesn't want to, but he thinks he should. "Kate, why are you here?"

Her heart breaks, and she bows her head into his chest, clutching at him, struggling to breathe past the shame of what she's done to him. "I want to be. I want to be with you, do you not trust me-"

"No, Kate, no. Not - not that. I know that." His hands stroke up and down her back, his mouth at her temple, her cheek, searching for her lips. A long and hot kiss that burns most of it away.

"What then? What are you asking me?"

"I meant. It's Monday, the middle of the day and I'm flattered, but when you left, I guess, I assumed - I thought you'd be going in today. I thought I missed out on staying in bed with you all day Sunday."

Oh. Oh, she hasn't - there's so much that's happened and everything in her head and what exactly did she tell him the other night? Nothing really.

He rushes into her silence. "I'm sorry. I know you said that you - you wanted - but the guy got away? And are you really not - are you choosing me over-"

He stops, looking stunned all over again, and she can't help but feel it rush through her like pride and power and how good this is-

"You. I just want you."

He stares at her. "But."

"I quit, Castle. I quit my job. I'm not going in today, or tomorrow. Or next month."

"Kate," he hisses, his hands cupping her cheeks. "You know I didn't - that's not what I meant. Just for you to - just this case. This one case. Not all of it-"

"Castle," she murmurs gently, prying his fingers off of her face so she can soothe the ragged edge of his voice with another press of her mouth to his, soft, so soft it hurts. "Castle, I'm done. I'm done with it."

"Done with . . .with your job?"

"I don't need it anymore. It served its purpose."

He's just staring at her, confused, and she knows she's got to make him understand. Because he's been instrumental in this.

"The badge kept me from drowning. It propped me up. Until I didn't need it any longer. I outgrew it, Castle. Partly because of you, but mostly because of me."

"You put in the work," he whispers, echoing her statement a week ago.

She nods back, lifts her fingers to trace the edge of his mouth. "I used to think that I wasn't anything apart from my mother's case. Her murder. But that's changed these last few years, and I wasn't - I didn't know how to let go of the one thing that had always saved me."

"Kate," he sighs, his lips brushing her fingers.

"Castle, I know what I am, who I am without it. This is who I am. And I want to be this person with you."

He nudges her hand aside and strokes the lines of her face, something strong in his eyes, something that looks like faith - the assurance of things hoped for.

"So does that mean we can spend all day in bed together?" he murmurs, a spark of charm in his smile again.

"Hmm."

"And tomorrow too? And the next day, and the next. . .I got money enough for this to go on indefinitely."

She laughs and gets close enough to kiss him again, lips to his shoulder, trailing along his collarbone, her tongue touching the hard-swallowing part of his neck. "I could be persuaded."

"Let me persuade you then."