Another story for our fanfic competition. Here you can find all the stories for the 12th Precinct Castle Halloween FanFic Competition. And here you can find the rules.
You can also find the stories at www.fanfiction.net for a possible easier read.
Story: Great Minds
Rating: Unknown
Word count: 2498
Castle
has arranged everything. He's got a theme, most of the decoration, and he's
already sent out invitations (there was even one for Captain Gates, since he's
still trying - and failing - to get back into her good graces).
He
doesn't think she'll come. But who knows? He remembers that unexpected smile on
her face when he gave her the Gemini doll, the warmth in her voice the next day
when she talked about Nikki Heat, and a flicker of guilt travels through him
for ruining that.
Eh.
Not his fault the USB and glass eye were hidden inside the ugly thing. Besides,
he's already bought the captain new ones - he's spent a ridiculous amount
of money trying to fix this - and she still hasn't forgiven him.
Whatever.
He doesn't care.
What
matters is: his Halloween party is but days away, and he still hasn't found a
costume.
He
heaves a deep sigh and drops his chin into his open palm, stares at the open
screen in front of him. He's been on websites that he had no idea even existed,
peered at geeky stuff and fun stuff and historical stuff, but he's still not
sure.
Problem
is... He wants them to match.
And
he's not exactly certain that Kate will wear any of the costumes he's got his
eye on.
The
Princess Leia getup is definitely out of the question, as much as he would love
that. The Catwoman suit...? He dreamily pictures Kate's smooth lines and
curves hugged in shiny black leather, and when she does come into his study, all long legs and gorgeous eyes, and
leans over his shoulder, he's too distracted to remember to close his laptop.
"Wall-E?"
she says, in that dry tone that he loves. "Seriously, Castle? You're that
desperate for a good Halloween costume?"
"Actually,
I was looking at-"
And
then he stops, shuts his mouth - but it's too late already.
Kate
reaches out to scroll down, round breast pressed at his shoulder blade, and he
holds his breath, feels a dark strand of hair tingling at his neck. She studies
the screen, no doubt noticing that most attires are meant for women, then turns
slitted eyes to him.
Yikes.
"What
are you doing, Rick?"
Oh,
like she doesn't know.
He
opens his eyes wide for his best innocent look. It doesn't seem to work too
well.
"Nothing,"
he lies, wanting to press his mouth to the tempting angle of her jaw. She's so
close.
"Nothing,
really," she echoes, her voice that cold, arched-eyebrow tone that she
uses in interrogation. "Because it sure looks like you were in the middle
of buying me a costume."
He
says nothing, has a feeling he should maybe call his lawyer.
"Castle."
He's
never been able to resist her.
"I
just wanted us to match," he explains, hears the whine in the words. Not
good. "I was... going to surprise you," he says, carefully
suppressing the childishness from his voice. "But I haven't found anything
good enough for us both."
She
opens her mouth and he can see she's not sure which part of that to answer
first. She pushes herself up again, takes that lovely brush of a breast away
from him as she skirts his desk, hands on her hips.
She
spins back to him, a curious look on her face - disbelief meshed with repressed
laughter, he thinks.
"You
wanted us to match."
He's
not sure what's so wrong about that, so he gives a little nod. He did, he does
want matching costumes for them. Seriously, how cute would they look as Antony
and Cleopatra? Ohh, Antony and Cleopatra - that's a good one-
"Castle.
We've been, successfully if painfully, hiding our relationship from everyone at
the precinct, including Esposito and Ryan, and even Lanie. And you want our
costumes to match? At a party they're all invited to? Jeez, even Gates-"
"Gates
is never going to show up," he objects with more confidence than he feels.
"Still,
Rick - come on. Wearing matching costumes would be like wearing a neon sign
that says, We're together. No way."
He
would like to argue. He really would. But he's got nothing.
"Besides,"
Kate adds, that dark, teasing look flashing in her eyes as she lays her palms
on his desk, leans in a little, "I've already got my outfit all figured
out, Castle. And I'm not changing it."
"You
have?" Excitement flares in his stomach. He remembers that year when she
wouldn't even tell him whether or not she was coming - and now she's got her
costume planned in advance?
"Uh-huh,"
she drops, her voice that low caress that always sets his nerves on fire.
"And before you even ask - no, I'm not telling."
"Ka-ate,"
he begs, but she's already pushing off his desk, laughing at him while she
steps back into the living-room, hips swaying in the exact same way as they did
after that very first case.
Ugh.
Frustrating, maddening - he got that right.
But
he might have forgotten to mention sexy as hell.
-----
The
moment he gets a chance, he corners Esposito and Ryan at the precinct, grills
them thoroughly. (Well, he grills Ryan; Esposito throws him a, Why d'ya
wanna know? and pretty much walks out.)
Neither
of the guys know what Kate’s costume will be.
It's
so unfair.
He's
got a spare key to her apartment. He could sneak in when she's not home, do
some snooping.
But
he remembers all too well that time when he tracked Alexis using the GPS on her
phone, the way Kate reacted, the disapproving look in her eyes. She'd kill him
if she knew he was even thinking that.
He
likes their teasing game too much to risk it. She wants to surprise him, fine.
He'll get his own costume, then, and maybe next year they can coordinate. He
wants it so badly; his chest clenches at the thought.
He's
never had anyone to coordinate outfits with. Gina would never dress up at all -
of course not, it was for children - and the only time Meredith agreed
to do it, was supposed to be the Little Red Riding Hood to his Big Bad Wolf,
she turned up dressed as Marie-Antoinette instead.
It's
stupid, he knows, but years after he still remembers that sharp pang of
disappointment, betrayal almost, when she appeared at the door. Talk about
foreshadowing.
So
he'll wait for Kate. No big deal. She's not going anywhere; she's told him
that, showed him over and over again. He believes her.
He
can wait one more year for them to be Daredevil and Elektra.
In
the meantime-
Oh,
yeah. He knows exactly who he's going to be for Halloween.
-----
Ten
past ten, and she still isn't here.
He's
trying to keep an eye on the door while listening to Ryan and Esposito's
conversation, and as a result, he only hears one word out of two. It makes it a
little difficult to take an active part in it.
He
nervously straightens his jacket, feels the weight of the holster and fake gun
under his arm. Seriously, he doesn't know how Bond moves so seamlessly. That
thing's seriously awkward.
His
eyes dart to the door again.
"Waiting
for a special someone, Castle?" Esposito asks in that abrupt way of his,
quirking an eyebrow.
Ryan
keeps quiet, which is surprising, but right then the door opens and Rick really
can't pay any sort of attention to the boys-
Oh
no.
Shit.
Seriously?
Victoria
Gates walks into his loft, very recognizable despite the fact that her hair is
frizzy and tied back at her neck; her arm is hooked around a man's, her husband
very probably, a white guy with silver hair who looks in his mid-fifties. He's
wearing a summer shirt on top of a long-sleeved tee, a palm tree print that's a
little bit ridiculous but also feels strangely familiar.
There's
something in his shirt pocket - a plastic toy? Castle can't quite see from
where he is.
He
makes his way to them, plastering his host smile on his face, and then Gates
turns to him and the red leather top she's wearing-
It's
all he can do not to burst out laughing.
Right.
It's not just any toy in her husband's front pocket - it's a miniature
dinosaur. This is awesome.
"Mr.
Castle," Captain Gates greets, her voice even and cool as usual.
He's got
to admit, she makes a pretty great Zoe. Even though he never would have guessed
she was a Firefly fan.
"Captain,"
he says with a little nod, knowing his mouth must be twisting with the smile
he's fighting so hard.
"This
is my husband, Alan. Alan, this is Richard Castle, our...civilian
consultant."
The
way she says the words - it surprises him. There's a sort of reluctant
acceptance there, and he suddenly wonders if this is Gates's idea of a peace
offering, her showing up to his Halloween party.
"Nice
to meet you, Alan," he smiles as he shakes the man's hand, meeting a pair
of grey, intelligent eyes. "I like your costume."
Alan
smiles back, not embarrassed in the slightest. "Our daughter was the
biggest Firefly fan when the show came out; she got us addicted to it. You
can't imagine the tragedy in the Gates household when we learned it wasn't
renewed."
Castle
stares, mouth parted on a laugh that won't come out. "Actually. I might
have an idea."
Gates
has a defiant look in her eyes, like she's challenging him to comment, but when
he says nothing her face softens. Before either of them can speak again, the
bell rings, and Rick bolts to the door with an excuse me thrown over his
shoulder, certainty curling in his gut.
It's
her; he knows it's her.
He
yanks the door open - and he's not disappointed.
Kate
Beckett stands in front of him, her dark hair gathered up in an elaborate
hairdo that has golden beads and pearls dangling from her temples, her eyes
made wider and greener by the subtle make-up. Her dress - is that even a dress?
It
looks like purple veils artistically wrapped around her body, with a golden
bustier holding the whole thing together, matched by bracelets around her
biceps, her wrists. There's a scarf knotted around her waist, too, emphasizing
the graceful curve of her hips, and holy crap-
Is
she Scheherazade? Are the veils coming off for him?
He
can't find his voice.
Her
eyes twinkle, the only outward reaction she will give, it seems, and she nods
at him.
"Can
I come in?"
"Uh,
yeah," he answers, transfixed, moving to the side. And then he changes his
mind, blocks the door with his body. Their chests brush. "Wait. Tell me
who you are first."
Kate
tilts her head, a slow smile stretching her lips. "Guess, Castle."
He
stares at her until suddenly his brain starts working again - and he knows.
"You're
Mata Hari," he whispers; her expression tells him he's guessed right.
Shit.
How awesome is that?
She's
a spy too.
-----
He
spends most of his evening watching her.
Not
only does she look stunning in her Mata Hari outfit (and seriously, how cool
is it that she even knows this shit?) but the way she effortlessly mingles with
people, dazzles everyone with her gorgeous laugh - it fascinates him.
She's
at the frontier between Beckett and Kate tonight, relaxed and confident, in
control, her eyes deep and mesmerizing even as she listens to Patterson's lame
jokes, and Castle wishes, so badly, that he could go over to her and wrap an
arm around her waist.
Claim
her.
This
is the woman who loves me.
But
Gates is here, her eyes just as sharp as usual despite the couple drinks she's
had, and he knows he can't do that.
Probably
the reason why Kate's staying away from him, too. She's not taking any chances.
He understands, of course. But it still sucks.
He
wants to touch her. He wants to curl his fingers at her elbow, feel her skin
respond to his.
As if
she can read his mind, she looks up, meets his eyes across the room. A tiny
smile lifts the corner of her mouth, the dark glow of promise in her eyes, and
his stomach twists with his need for her.
The
second the last guest is out of the door, he tells himself. The second they're
alone together - James Bond is gonna get to know Mata Hari a whole lot better.
-----
"So
you liked it?" she asks him, much later, when she's draped over his chest
and he can only see the faint outline of her face in the darkness.
"I
thought we'd already had this conversation," he smiles, running his thumb
across the smooth skin of her forearm.
Her
hand lifts over his chest, falls back, and if she meant to smack him she really
ought to put a little more strength into it. Not that he's complaining, of
course.
"You
know I don't mean...this," she murmurs, and he feels the edge of her smile
at his shoulder. "You've been pretty - vocal - about how much you like
this, Castle."
He
grins in the dark, knows she's right. Totally her fault, too. All those veils
slowly peeled off, her skin revealed inch by inch.
Times
like tonight, he's actually glad his daughter moved out. And that his mother
found herself another Halloween party to attend.
"Did
you like my Mata Hari outfit?" she prompts when he doesn't answer, lost in
fresh, vivid memories of all the ways their bodies fit together.
He
hums happily, tightening his arm around her waist, fingers brushing at her
side.
"Oh,
I did. Very much. Smart. And sexy."
Kate
makes that little laughing sound at the back of her throat, pride and pleasure
both, and she sighs into his chest, "Good."
God,
he loves her so much.
"You
know what I liked most about it though?" he says despite himself, wrapping
a strand of her dark hair around his index finger.
"What?"
she asks, clearly expecting something dirty.
Not
what he has in mind, though.
"We
matched," he says, trying to keep the satisfaction in his voice to a bare
minimum.
He's
met with surprised silence, and when she speaks again, her voice is soft.
"Both
of us spies," she acknowledges. He can hear her smile. "That make you
happy, Castle?"
"You
have no idea," he says, knows she can probably hear it all, the goofy,
stupid joy that breaks free in his chest.
They
didn't even plan it.
Great
minds.
"Next
year," she murmurs, a kiss brushed to his jaw. "You can choose our costumes,
Rick."
His
breath stills in his chest. "Yeah?"
"Yeah,"
she promises, fingers dancing at his chest. "But careful what you pick,
Castle. Cause the year after that? It's my turn."
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