Title: Golden
Fandom: Castle
Rating: T
Pairing: Richard Castle/Kate Beckett
Summary: Gina is stuck in traffic and doesn’t interrupt Kate at the end of 2.24 – A Deadly Game.
Notes: Written with Yellow in mind.
“You could have it all if you wanted
You could have it all if it mattered so much”
– Golden Touch – Razorlight
This is exactly what she needed.
Castle was pretty sure this was what he needed too. Golden sand and glistening skin and just peace and quiet.
With her.
He’d never been happier that New York had a traffic problem. Those 20 minutes his ex-wife had been stuck on the way to pick him up had let Beckett finish her sentence, finish her thought, be brave. He was an idiot and she; she was smart and beautiful and here.
—
“Castle, do you have a second?” Beckett asks.
“Of course. Yeah.” He follows her outside, aware that everyone is watching. “What’s up?”
“Look…” she starts, glancing away, then back again. “I know that I’m not the easiest person
to get to know, and… I don’t always let on what’s on my mind. But… this past year,
working with you…I’ve had a really good time.”
“Yeah. Me, too,” he says, smiling.
“So I’m–I’m just gonna say this and–whatever you feel or think, I want you to be honest with me.”
“Of course, always,” he tells her and she flushes at that.
“I think we’re really good together, that we could be really good together,” she says, looking at him. “And, I’d really like to try.”
“Really?” He’d be annoyed by the hitch in his voice but he’s too busy reeling from her confession. “With me?”
She bites her bottom lip and nods, and he reaches out to take her hand.
“What about Demming? Your weekend away?”
“I realised he’s not what I want,” she says, dipping her head down for a second. He almost misses her next words. “You are.”
He smiles then, brighter than ever and reaches out to take her hand.
“You’re sure?” he asks and she nods, eyes darting to their friends in the next room who are absolutely and unrepentantly watching.
“And if your offer still stands,” she says, “I’d love to spend the weekend in the Hamptons with you.”
He squeezes her hand and leans towards her a little but hesitates, and decides against kissing her. Not right now, not in the station, not in front of everyone.
“That, that would be amazing,” he says in a rush, “yes, the offer still stands.”
“I’m already packed, so we could go now.”
“Perfect,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I gotta make a call and make sure the spare room is ready, but then we can finish up here and go.”
—
He pauses his Beckett watching for now and starts writing again, fingers drifting over the keys almost on their own as he rewrites all the scenes he’d shoved Demming into. He was tempted to be petty, keep the poorly named character in, but in the end, he’s come out of this on top and the robbery detective has just lost the most amazing woman in New York.
His phone buzzes in his pocket again and he ignores it again. He knows it’s Gina; she’s been angry texting all morning, having angry called him most of last night.
She’s pissed and rightfully so, but he feels like this was the right choice. Taking a chance on Beckett instead of going back a step, going back to another mistake. At some point he knows he’ll probably have to admit to Beckett that he was intended to come here with his ex-wife for the whole summer, that they were working on reconciling, but for now, for now he intends to enjoy his first date with Beckett.
—
They finish their little party with the others, who say nothing but do so very loudly. They chat about Castle’s plans for the summer, his book, he ignores the buzzing in his pocket after putting his phone on silent – which he never does but Alexis is safe and he can turn it back on once he’s on the road. He half expects Gina to turn up anyway and give him hell in person, but he’d half lied and said wouldn’t be here anyway, hoping she wouldn’t call his bluff.
He pretends he doesn’t see them all exchanging money, as he passes by the room when he and Beckett leave but it looks Lanie cashed in and Ryan owed everyone money. He figures Beckett is pretending too, there is a flush on her cheeks and she rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything.
He takes Becketts bag from her when she collects from under her desk, and carries it out to his SUV.
“You, okay?” he asks quietly, trying to judge her mood.
“Yeah,” she smiles at him, hell, beams at him.
“Want to have dinner out tonight? Or grab take out?” he asks.
“I think it depends on traffic,” she says, practical as ever. “And who’s driving?”
“My house, my car, I’m driving,” he says and she gives him a raised eyebrow before jumping in the passenger side.
“If you insist.”
He puts her bag on the backseat and climbs in next to her.
“Listen, I just wanted to say…” he pauses because God what doesn’t he want to say. “I’m really glad you’re coming with me.”
She smiles at him, reaching out and patting his knee.
“Me too.”
Part of him wishes she were driving; he would love to spend the next two hours just watching her but he’s content with her being passenger because she’s his passenger.
—-
“You hungry?”
He looks over to where she’s lying by the pool reading a book – one of Connelly’s dammit – and smiles. Her swimsuit is kinda conservative, but everything that is on display is more than enough for Castle.
For now.
“You’re gorgeous,” he tells in answer and she flushes. She’s never been good with taking his compliments, even when he’s been deadly serious but then, he’s not used to being so open and giving with them either. They’ve been here less than a day and she had decided she wanted to be lazy and relax around the pool all morning. He didn’t even know Kate could be lazy but he has plans for this evening, so he was happy to take her lead.
As usual.
“That’s not what I asked,” she says, standing up and he forgets just how long her legs sometimes. Then she stretches a little and he almost drops his laptop. She giggles – giggles – and moves to sit at the little table with him.
“I could eat,” he says, his brain adding, ‘you’ and the way the blush spreads over her cheeks and down to her chest – which he looks at because he can now – makes him think he said it out loud.
Or she was thinking the same thing, which has his brain tripping over a little bit.
“I’ll make us something,” she says, smiling. “Did you get much writing done?”
It’s an innocent question but the glint in her eye and the way her lips curve ever so slightly tells him she knows he spent the past couple of hours watching her.
“A bit. Get much reading done?”
His tone is not nearly as innocent and she giggles.
“A bit,” she says but when he looks at the books he can see she’s almost done.
—
“I think take out is on the menu tonight,” he says, as they move another few metres. “There’s a great Chinese place we’ll pass.”
“Or we could hit a diner on the way,” she says.
“No way,” he says, harder than he intends and she looks over at him. “The first time I’m taking you on a date is not at a diner.”
“I don’t know, I think it’s kinda us,” she says and he glances over to see her smiling. “Plus, isn’t this whole weekend our first date?”
“I still reserve the right to wine and dine you at some point this weekend,” he tells her.
“Deal,” she says.
“Have you ever been to the Hamptons before?” he asks.
“Once, with my parents,” she says. “I must’ve been about 14,” she smiles and reaches over to place a hand on his thigh and he glances down and swallows hard.
“Happy memories?”
“Yeah,” she sounds wistful, that way she always does when thinks about her mother. “My mom preferred to go to Cape Cod in the summer…” she pauses, “I’ve not been back since.”
He doesn’t need to ask since when
“We should go sometime,” he says.
“I’d like that.” She squeezes his thigh and he sighs. “Let’s find a diner.”
—
They eat lunch by the pool mostly in silence. They haven’t really talked about what they’re doing up here together, alone, but he’d prefer not to analyse it too much. This is a date, they’re dating, that’s enough for now because she’s already admitted to more than he ever thought she would.
“So, what do you normally do up here?” she asks and he panics for a second.
“Um, on memorial weekend?”
“In general,” she says, “when you and Alexis come up here?”
“Well, we hang out on the beach, by the pool, watch movies, shop, I write, Alexis studies.”
“So, pretty much what you do now, but by the sea,” she says with a grin and he chuckles.
“Yes, but without the murder.”
He wants to tell her he’s glad she came, but he must’ve already told her a dozen times and she’s probably sick of hearing it. He also really wants to kiss her – properly, the quick peck on his cheek she had gifted him before bed last night had barely scratched the surface of what he wanted from her.
“I made reservations tonight,” he says instead. “At this little place you’ll love.”
“Fancy?” she asks and he shakes his head.
“Not overly so,” he says, “Is that okay? I have plans for proper wining and dining, but couldn’t get reservations for tonight?”
He knows it’s okay, because this is Kate Beckett, she doesn’t need impressing, doesn’t need spoiling. He just wants too.
“Sounds great,” she says. She leans over then and kisses him on the cheek again. “I’m gonna swim a few laps, let you finish up your edits.”
He nods, not trusting his voice and watches as she dives into his pool. He really wants to watch but he also needs to finish this draft because he kinda wants her to read it, give him her opinion on it. Which is new, normally his drafts are reserved for a few special people, though it doesn’t surprise him that she is now one of them.
But first he needs to get rid of Schlemming.
—-
When the finally arrive at his house at the Hamptons, after a too long a drive and too short a stop for food, he gives her the grand tour. He is trying to show off, it’s his nature, but he wants Beckett to enjoy herself.
“It’s beautiful Castle,” she says, “spectacular.”
“Come and see the pool, it’s secluded and then you can just walk down to the beach from there and be in the ocean.”
He takes her out, and keeps going past the pool he was just gushing about to stand and look at the ocean as the sun sets behind them and the twilight descends. She steps in close next to him, threading an arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. He feels warm, from the core out and presses a soft kiss to her head.
“I’m really glad you came,” he says softly.
“Me too.”
They stand there for a little while as the stars come out, arms linked, resting gently on each other. She sighs, cuddles closer and Castle thinks he could do this all night if she wanted.
“Let’s go inside,” she says.
“Glass of wine?” he asks.
“Sounds good. You pour and I’ll fetch our bags.”
“Deal.”
He’s poured them both generous glasses of a nice red he always keeps on hand here and she walks in with her single holdall and his large suitcase.
“How come you have so much stuff Castle?” she says with a laugh. Leaving them by the door she takes the glass of wine from him and follows him over to the sofa.
“Well, I’m staying for summer, remember?”
He sits, delighted when she sits right next to him, their hips and legs touching. He wraps an arm around her and pulls him into him, and she tenses for a second – it’s so very new – before relaxing against him with that soft sigh he’s come to recognise as satisfied surrender.
“Oh.”
“You’re disappointed.”
“I just…I just assumed you’d come back to New York after the weekend was up,” she says, turning slightly to look at him. It takes everything in him not to lean down and kiss her, but now’s not the time.
“I really do need to finish my book.”
“So, this is just a weekend fling?”
She pulls out of his embrace, moves to the other end of his suddenly too large sofa and she’s not angry – well, not only angry – but sad too. So very sad.
“No, Beckett, I’m serious about this, about us,” he says, reaching for her. She shrugs off his hand.
“How can we date if you’re two hours away by the beach and I’m in the city.”
He shifts down the sofa so that he’s next to her again and she has nowhere to go unless she stands up.
“I will drive down and take you out every day if you want me to,” he says, “every day. Or I’ll stay in New York for the summer, whatever it takes.”
He reaches out and this time she lets him take her hand, her entire posture relaxing again, softening and she bites her bottom lip.
“You’ll drive down?” she asks.
“Every day.”
“It doesn’t need to be every day.”
“Okay, well, we can work out a timetable later.”
“Sexy,” she says with a laugh and he smiles, pulling her back into his embrace.
—
She swims and he writes and it feels good to just exist in the same space as her. It’s why he spends so much time at the precinct, even when Beckett is just doing paperwork. It’s not research, its company, her company. She reads for a while afterwards and finishes her book, before heading up to her room to get ready. Castle has finally stripped all the references to Demming and reworked the scenes he was in.
He realises it’s probably stupid to start dating so soon after she broke up with Demming, when he was half entertaining the idea of getting back together with Gina. Still, he’s got to take his chance, because Beckett is willing to take the chance on him.
It makes him a little nervous as he showers, shaves and changes. How he manages not to cut himself with his razor and really hopes the dark blue shirt he’s chosen is the right way to go.
Not that it matters when he heads downstairs and finds Beckett waiting for him in a yellow halter neck sundress. He stops short, taking her all in, long legs, acres of skin and a pretty blush on her cheeks. She bites her bottom lip under his scrutiny and how has he managed to resist kissing her for this long he has no idea.
He never normally has such good self-control.
And it’s completely gone now.
He strides over to her without a word, tips her chin up with his hand and kisses her on the lips, long and sweet. She melts into it, into him, wrapping her arms around him. He pulls her closer, presses her against him to feel every curve as his hand sweep down her bare back.
She’s soft and warm and he thinks he’d be quite happy doing this for the rest of this night – hell, the rest of his life. Then she moans gently and lets him sweep his tongue into her mouth and oh she tastes divine. He cups her cheek, his thumb brushing the flushed skin he knows is there, deepening the kiss. He considers just forgetting dinner and pushing her against something, anything but then she finally pulls away and looks up at him from beneath her lashes, breathing hard, looking more than a little love-drunk. Castle assumes he looks the same, cause holy fuck, does he feel it too.
—
They finish their wine and mutually decide it’s time to get some sleep. It’s been a long few days at the precinct and Castle really does have to finish his book and the drive was long. And the wine has made them both sleepy. He leads her up the stairs and shows her which room she’ll be sleeping in.
“I’ll let you sleep in,” he says and she huffs out a laugh.
“Or I’ll let you sleep in,” she tells him and he knows that’s way more likely, especially in a writing haze. Time tends to lose all focus when he’s writing. And when he’s with her.
“Good night Beckett,” he says.
She steps back, then steps forward again and giving him that shy smile he loves so very much, leans up and kisses him on the cheek.
“Good night,” she says, barely a whisper before closing the door. Castle stands there looking at it for a moment or two before deciding that tomorrow, tomorrow he’s going to kiss her properly.
—
“Finally,” is all Beckett says before taking his hand and dragging him out to dinner.