Bab 38: 38. Chapter 38
He stands on the metal deck of the cargo hold, blue eyes flashing at her. A long-barreled pistol in one hand, casually braced against his thigh. Her eyes flicker up to the glint of a smile in his face, not sure if it's meant or just ironic.
"It's my ship. I'm the Captain," he growls at her.
Her chest tightens with arousal, her legs go loose. She's not sure if she's really here or if he's even talking to her, but each lazy, drawn-out vowel goes right to her center.
She licks her lips.
Her mouth is dry, sock-tasting. She swallows hard and feels little fingers at her throat, confusing. What?
"Mommy."
Kate opens her eyes, blinking through darkness, hair against her lips; she brushes it away, finds her daughter hovering over her.
"Baby." She closes her eyes on the word, sighing.
"Up, uppie."
Kate lifts an eyebrow, opens her eyes again. "Okay. Yeah, time to get up."
"Now, Mommy."
Nap. A terrible idea, Kate. Now she's sluggish and drugged and all she wants to do is roll over into Castle and-
She lifts her head. Castle has disappeared. "Did you see Daddy?"
"Mommy," Ellery insists, leaning on her chest and kissing her cheek wetly.
"Yeah, I stayed. I told you I would." She lifts up, bringing her daughter with her, and then leans back against the headboard, cuddling her baby girl, trying to wake up.
With her daughter snuggled down against her chest, Kate closes her eyes again, the warm bed, the warm body, the warm feeling. She was dreaming. What was it?
Captain. Captain? - oh. Oh, damn. Castle will never let her live that-
No, not Castle. That was the fictional character from the tv show he loves. She loves? She kinda does. The main character is so hot. And lazily sexy, and intense. And he looks like her husband might have years before she met him. Lean, unlined, whipcord strength, the brash arrogance of youth.
Who is she kidding? He's like that now. Jeez. He's-
"Mommy. Down."
"Don't talk like a baby," she murmurs into Ellery's ear. "You're almost three. I know you can talk better than that."
Ella giggles into her chest and leans back. "Let me down."
"There you go. Much better. I guess I should stop calling you baby, huh? That probably doesn't help."
"Mommy's baby," Ella says softly and leans in again, like she's forgotten she wanted to get down; her arms curl around her mother's neck.
Kate squeezes her tightly and kisses her forehead. "You will always be my baby girl. And Dash is my baby boy. No need to worry."
Ella wriggles down into her, squirmy as a worm, and Kate laughs and plucks her up, lifts her off the bed and to the floor.
"We have to go get you a new swimsuit still. Remember?"
"Pink. Stripes"
"You want pink stripes, huh?"
She shakes her head, the black strands fly; Ellery pushes her hair back from her face. "One pink. Two stripes."
"Oh, really? Two new swimsuits?" She doesn't let on that their intention was to buy her three - less to wash - but Ellery grins anyway and bounces towards the door, completely unconcerned.
"Pink. And stripes!" she calls out into the hallway.
Kate wrestles out of bed and follows after her, blinking in the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the sliding glass door. Which is open. The breeze is welcome, cooling her sleep-sweaty skin.
"Rick?"
"We're out here."
She and Ella follow the sound of his voice and find her boys on the balcony, each in their own lounge chair, listening to music. Dash has on his noise-canceling headphones and is probably doing his listening therapy (Castle is always so good at remembering that), while his father has swiped her iPod again. She can tell because it's pink.
Ellery grabs Dash's feet and jumps up and down, grinning at him. Dashiell pulls himself out of the world of his music with an effort, then grins back.
"You're up! Guess what the boys get to do! Arcade games! Haha," he laughs at her, but it's not teasing. Just excited. Ellery laughs with him and continues to jump up and down, hanging on to his feet.
Kate leans over and picks her up. "Dash, honey, scoot over. Let your sister sit with you."
Dashiell scoots to one side, entirely accommodating, and Kate puts Ellery down next to him. The girl wriggles into a spot and leans her head against her brother. Oh, entirely too adorable.
"Camera, Kate-"
She glances at Rick. "Where'd we put it?"
"In the beach bag. That pocket thing that zips."
"Oh yeah." Kate steps over the sliding glass door's threshold, back into the living room, towards the entryway. They've dumped all their beach stuff here, so she has no trouble finding the little camera.
She's been complaining to Castle that all of the photos of them are on their phones. Or instagrammed. Which is cute, but she wants to load them to her computer and send them off to be developed. The phone, even with all its improvements, is still too poor quality.
Kate gets back to the balcony and has the camera on and ready before the kids can notice her. She takes a picture of them with Ellery's head on Dash's shoulder, her little fingers messing with his cd player. The listening therapy cds sound so bizarre, and of course the occupational therapist warned them not to listen themselves - messes with brain waves or something. But Castle did it first, and then she did too, for a little while, and it just sounds like concertos and symphonies have been warped - dragged out or sped up or faded in and out. It does something good to Dash though, makes him happy and relaxed.
Like he is now. The stitches on his forehead are still covered by the glaring-white bandage, the bruises are vivid, but he looks happy.
Kate reaches out and strokes the hair back from his face. "How you feel buddy?"
"What?"
She raises her voice. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," he says, glancing at her in confusion, then startles with an "Oh!" He lifts a hand to his forehead and touches the bandage. "It's still there."
Kate grins and leans forward to kiss his cheek, then drops a kiss on Ellery's as well. "You, my little guy, are too funny."
When Kate pulls back, she sees Castle still listening to her ipod, one foot propped on his other knee, head moving in time to the music, eyes on the ocean. Ellery's feet are swinging from the lounge chair, her head moving against the back of it. Dashiell murmurs to the music in his earphones and scratches his fingers across the portable cd player.
Kate takes another picture, all three of them, and grins at the look Castle levels on her. Surprised, amused, a hint of seduction. Mostly love - she wants to take a picture of that, but it'd never turn out right. Kate steps inside the condo to put the camera on the kitchen counter, then comes back outside.
Castle's foot is tapping; she slides it off his knee and pushes on his leg. "Scoot."
He inches over in the chair and she wedges herself in next to him, wriggling into his thigh with her butt bone, making him yelp and grab her around the waist with a laugh.
She picks up her ipod to check the song - White Stripes - and leaves the earbuds in his ears. Kate slides down a little so that her hips fit in the seat, leans her head back against his chest. Castle curls both arms around her, drops his chin to the crown of her head.
He's humming the song - poorly - and his foot still taps. Kate drops her foot on top of his, grins as she feels him flex his muscles and keep going, her foot riding with his.
It's nice. And relaxing. And Ellery can wear her swimsuit from earlier, the one that soured. Who cares? They can get swimsuits later. Or Castle can do it between arcade games and dinner. What does it really matter? She's sitting on the balcony in South Padre with the sun brilliant and warm against her face, her kids happy and at peace with each other in the next chair over, and her husband tracing aimless patterns into her skin with his fingertips.
She closes her eyes, content, and the dream figure flares to life behind her lids. Brown jacket, gun, suspenders-
She grins and rolls her cheek into Castle's chest, smells sunscreen and sand. His arm comes up and his fingers cup her skull so he can press his open, song-humming mouth to hers.
"I said it must be fine cause my heart's still beating," he half-hums, half-sings, his words tickling her cheek and swirling in her ear. She shivers and twists to give him a better kiss, deeper, cutting off his song.
But Castle won't be hurried, or moved, and he keeps it lazy, arrogant, his hands skimming her shoulder, her stomach, stretching down her thigh. He pulls back, humming the song again, nodding his head to the beat.
Kate can see the self-satisfied smirk on his face - in direct contradiction to the knit of his eyebrows as he holds himself together. Captain of this ship. Uh-huh.
She slides a hand down his forearm, slowly just to tease, and laces her fingers through his, squeezing. Castle shifts in the chair and his foot slows, stops tapping. He presses his open mouth to her neck, breathing hotly on her, and then hums into her skin, the imperfect beat and the off-key words.
Kate closes her eyes, lets it sink under her skin and wrap around her muscles, echo in her bones, travel through her blood to her lungs, her heart, her head. All of her absorbing his song. Syncopated. She's heard him sing better than this; he's got a good voice. He's doing it on purpose, throwing her off-balance.
"Wanna show you something later," he whispers.
She opens her eyes; he's taken an earbud out and his head is dark as it bows over her neck. She lifts a hand and curls it around his ear, pulse pounding.
"Yeah, that," she murmurs.
He laughs. "Not that. Something on my computer. I wanted to have it ready before his birthday, but I got a call and it won't get here in time."
Breathless, a little confused, Kate tugs on his ear and tries to blink away the fog of touch. "His birthday? What did you do?"
"No, I didn't buy anything else. Jeez, I can read you like a book, Kate Castle-"
She rolls her eyes at that again. His doing. The nurse who wrote out Ellery's birth certificate put the mother's name incorrectly as Kate Castle, and then there was an incident at Dashiell's karate class where they wouldn't let her pick him up because their names weren't the same - oh she was pissed - so she gave up.
She gave up and changed her legal name. Although no one at the station calls her that (she told almost no one) and Beckett remains her professional name, as well as replacing her middle name and so-
So, Castle likes to whip that one out every now and then. More often lately. When he wants her attention. When he's chiding her. Like he's her father. Infuriating. Sorta. Kinda hot.
No. Not hot. Stop it.
"So what is it?"
"I'll show you later. When the kids are down."
She sighs. "All right. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"
He grins.
"You know I hate to be teased."
"You also hate surprises. So I thought I'd let you know now, before it arrives."
"You sound so considerate, but really, you just like to make me squirm," she mutters, dropping a hand to his thigh and rubbing slowly.
"Only because you do it first."
Her hand pauses, her eyes meet his. But he likes it. He loves it. She loves making him squirm too. She rakes her fingernails up his cargo shorts, gets her hand quite close before he flinches and grabs for her wrist. She can feel his heart pounding suddenly at her back.
"Kate," he warns.
She glances over at the kids, and yeah, they're both entirely too aware. Curious. Little eyes and ears.
She sighs and pats his leg; he releases her.
"Truce," she murmurs.
"I have long ago learned that means absolutely nothing to you-"
She laughs and leans up to kiss his jaw, tenderly, her heart in her eyes. "I love you."
He grins back and brushes his fingers down her cheek, his hand drifting to close around her throat gently. "Back at ya, darlin'."
Oh, there's the dream again. A flash of it across her eyelids when she blinks. "I dreamed you were Captain Mal."
He laughs. "Oh you did?"
"Mm, it was thrilling."
"That *is* my Halloween costume. Space cowboy."
She grins darkly at him. "Goody."
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone