Entangled, Ch. 1-An Appallingly Cute Caskett 2-shot set mid-season 6
Title: Entangled, Ch. 1
WC: ~1500 this chapter
Rating: G
Summary: "It's just all so cute. And unexpected. However much she teases him about his metrosexuality and being in touch with his feminine side, this is something else. It's just not . . . usual."
A/N: Set between Under Fire (6 x 11) and Deep Cover (6 x 12). Two Chapters.
It's appallingly cute. Appallingly. She keeps peeking into the gift bag, and there it is, nestled into a spray of artfully arranged pastel tissue paper.
"Beckett, quit messing with it." He scolds. "You're squashing the paper."
"I'm not messing with it, Castle!" But the rustle gives her away as she yanks her hand back. She was totally messing with it.
But it's so cute. The gift itself, but the whole thing. The bag and the profusion of ribbon deftly knotted into a more than passable satin rose, complete with green curls streaming down from it like leaves. It's all so cute that it's fascinating. And he knows it. He keeps catching her messing with it.
"I can make you a set if you're jealous." He slips an arm around her and drops his voice to a rumble.
It's wrong. It's so incredibly wrong for that to send a shiver through her, given the context. Given exactly what's in the bag and who it's for, it's just wrong. She turns on him. The train jerks to a stop and it pulls him out of the moment. It pulls them both out as one murmuring crowd spills out and another filters in.
"Ok," he says quickly. He backs off a little, draping his arm along the top of the seat. Avoiding contact like he's just pictured it. "Ok. Yeah. No. I . . . forget I said that." But he darts another look at her out of the corner of his eye. Another look at the bag. "Yeah. No. I could, but . . . no."
"But no," she says emphatically, even though the corners of her mouth are apt to turn traitor any second.
It's just all so cute. And unexpected. However much she teases him about his metrosexuality and being in touch with his feminine side, this is something else. It's just not . . . usual.
"A ribbon rose, though?" He's cheerful. Pleased with himself, and undaunted by the looks she's been giving him. By her relative silence about the whole thing. "I can make you a dozen ribbon roses. A sustainable alternative to the houseplants you keep killing."
"I don't 'keep killing' them." She pokes him with the air quotes. "I just . . . don't get home all that often lately."
"You don't get to your place all that often." He leans in as he corrects her, smacking a kiss on her cheek and offering his ear for punishment.
She tweaks it, more because he expects it than anything else. It's not something they're fighting about. It's not something they've ever fought about, actually, though she would have expected it.
She's all but moved into the loft. He'd like the "all but" to go away. He says it outright from time to time-reminds her that they were set to "officially" live together in DC, and points out the lunacy of what her place costs. That they're getting married, and it's kind of silly. But he grins when she pushes back and admits that he loves having somewhere they can run away to as much as she does. And that's how it is. She can't remember the last time she was there without him. They run away together.
They fight about plenty. Big things and small since the summer. Since the ring and DC and everything. They fight far more now than their first year together, and it's good. It means they're meeting things head on, not avoiding.
They fight, but it's almost never anything she saw coming. They still surprise each other after all this time together. After all the time before that not together.
"Beckett." He slaps her hand away. That's definitely surprising. To both of them, judging by the way he jerks his hand back. High and out of reach. "Quit fondling it. You're ruining my presentation."
"Presentation."
She snorts and rolls her eyes, but this is their stop, and he's tugging her up from the seat. He's plowing through the crowd with purposeful strides and glancing back anxiously. He gives her a smile of approval when she holds the bag high and twists at the shoulders to keep it from being crushed.
It's all just too cute.
"There's not going to be a scene, is there?"
They're riding the elevator up to Ryan and Jenny's place. It's old and creaky and slow. She has plenty of time to give him a sharp look, but he gives it right back. He's caught her again. Peeking inside the bag and running her finger over the pointed arch of one ear, then the other.
"Scene?" The word makes it out before she can stop it. An affronted huff as she snaps the bag shut, but that just feeds the fire. It just sharpens the annoying gleam in his eye.
"Sarah Grace is just a baby, Beckett." The elevator dings and bumps to a stop. He rests one hand at the small of her back as he gestures her into the hall with the other. "You're older and you know better, so you have to set an example. I don't want any fussing when she gets a present and you don't."
She'd like to kill him. She really would. She swings the bag at his middle, sputtering, but he laughs and catches it easily. He takes it from her and peers inside. He scowls and shifts things a little, tapping his palm against the side of the bag to plump it out again.
"Besides . . ." He gives her a stern look as he raises his fist to knock on the door. "Maybe there'll be a present later. If you're a good girl."
Jenny's adamant about trying it on right away.
"She's asleep," Castle protests, but it's more because he should than he wants to. Kate can see he's pleased. She can see he's eager to see the gift in all its adorable glory.
"She's always asleep." Ryan laughs as he holds his daughter up so Jenny can unzip her sleeper. "We're lucky."
"Guys, it's ok. You can send us pictures when she has a chance to try it on," Kate adds her objection though she's just as eager as Castle. And, anyway, the two of them already have the baby stripped down to just a bulky cloth diaper and its cover.
"Oh, there will be pictures." Jenny hugs the tiny bottoms to her chest, tapping the fluffy cotton tail so it bobs. "Rick, this is just . . I can't believe you made this."
"Yeah, Castle. Can't believe it." Ryan's needling him a little. Looking to Beckett for backup, and she knows he can't wait to tell Esposito.
But Jenny tugs the soft, fawn-colored knit up Sarah's chubby thighs. She settles the hat on her head and smooths up the ears at the exact second the wide, blue eyes flick open, and Kevin is as gobsmacked as the rest of them. It's so cute it's criminal.
Jenny's soft oooh draws a toothless, drooling smile. Kevin straightens his arms and fumbles to turn his daughter to face him. Jenny laughs and takes her, holding her up high and turning her from side to side so everyone gets a look.
Her tiny feet kick and wave. Her belly shakes over the snug rib of the waistband as she laughs and gurgles, delighted that she has the full attention of four people.
"Family picture," Castle gestures, and the Ryans meet cheek to cheek in the center of the couch. Sarah's "ears" tickle their noses and he snaps the camera at the perfect moment. He catches the two of them laughing. He catches Sarah shrieking with glee.
"Now with Aunt Kate and Uncle Rick." Jenny pops up. "They made this for you, baby bunny," she says blowing a raspberry against the bare skin of her back
Kate's about to protest that it was Castle-all Castle-but Jenny thrusts Sarah into her arms just then. Into her suddenly, incredibly awkward arms. Kate freezes. She's stiff and staring. Horrified enough that Castle can't entirely mask a guffaw as he slides on to the arm of her chair, shielding her from the judgmental eyes of the new parents. She stares at him, a mute plea-a mute threat or something in between-for him to take the damned baby, but he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
"Look at you," he says softly.
He flicks his fingers at the baby's bare, wriggling toes, but he only has eyes for Kate as she takes a breath and everything comes right. Everything feels different in a moment so present that it settles on the three of them like sunlight. Kate bounces her knee and Sarah's head comes happily to rest in the crook of her elbow. Castle leans in, drawn to them both.
"Guys!" Kevin snaps his fingers overhead. The three of them look up and the artificial shutter clicks.
"Oh, perfect," Jenny coos. She snatches the phone to hold it up, and it is. The picture is perfect.
The three of them. They're appallingly cute.
WC: ~1500 this chapter
Rating: G
Summary: "It's just all so cute. And unexpected. However much she teases him about his metrosexuality and being in touch with his feminine side, this is something else. It's just not . . . usual."
A/N: Set between Under Fire (6 x 11) and Deep Cover (6 x 12). Two Chapters.
It's appallingly cute. Appallingly. She keeps peeking into the gift bag, and there it is, nestled into a spray of artfully arranged pastel tissue paper.
"Beckett, quit messing with it." He scolds. "You're squashing the paper."
"I'm not messing with it, Castle!" But the rustle gives her away as she yanks her hand back. She was totally messing with it.
But it's so cute. The gift itself, but the whole thing. The bag and the profusion of ribbon deftly knotted into a more than passable satin rose, complete with green curls streaming down from it like leaves. It's all so cute that it's fascinating. And he knows it. He keeps catching her messing with it.
"I can make you a set if you're jealous." He slips an arm around her and drops his voice to a rumble.
It's wrong. It's so incredibly wrong for that to send a shiver through her, given the context. Given exactly what's in the bag and who it's for, it's just wrong. She turns on him. The train jerks to a stop and it pulls him out of the moment. It pulls them both out as one murmuring crowd spills out and another filters in.
"Ok," he says quickly. He backs off a little, draping his arm along the top of the seat. Avoiding contact like he's just pictured it. "Ok. Yeah. No. I . . . forget I said that." But he darts another look at her out of the corner of his eye. Another look at the bag. "Yeah. No. I could, but . . . no."
"But no," she says emphatically, even though the corners of her mouth are apt to turn traitor any second.
It's just all so cute. And unexpected. However much she teases him about his metrosexuality and being in touch with his feminine side, this is something else. It's just not . . . usual.
"A ribbon rose, though?" He's cheerful. Pleased with himself, and undaunted by the looks she's been giving him. By her relative silence about the whole thing. "I can make you a dozen ribbon roses. A sustainable alternative to the houseplants you keep killing."
"I don't 'keep killing' them." She pokes him with the air quotes. "I just . . . don't get home all that often lately."
"You don't get to your place all that often." He leans in as he corrects her, smacking a kiss on her cheek and offering his ear for punishment.
She tweaks it, more because he expects it than anything else. It's not something they're fighting about. It's not something they've ever fought about, actually, though she would have expected it.
She's all but moved into the loft. He'd like the "all but" to go away. He says it outright from time to time-reminds her that they were set to "officially" live together in DC, and points out the lunacy of what her place costs. That they're getting married, and it's kind of silly. But he grins when she pushes back and admits that he loves having somewhere they can run away to as much as she does. And that's how it is. She can't remember the last time she was there without him. They run away together.
They fight about plenty. Big things and small since the summer. Since the ring and DC and everything. They fight far more now than their first year together, and it's good. It means they're meeting things head on, not avoiding.
They fight, but it's almost never anything she saw coming. They still surprise each other after all this time together. After all the time before that not together.
"Beckett." He slaps her hand away. That's definitely surprising. To both of them, judging by the way he jerks his hand back. High and out of reach. "Quit fondling it. You're ruining my presentation."
"Presentation."
She snorts and rolls her eyes, but this is their stop, and he's tugging her up from the seat. He's plowing through the crowd with purposeful strides and glancing back anxiously. He gives her a smile of approval when she holds the bag high and twists at the shoulders to keep it from being crushed.
It's all just too cute.
"There's not going to be a scene, is there?"
They're riding the elevator up to Ryan and Jenny's place. It's old and creaky and slow. She has plenty of time to give him a sharp look, but he gives it right back. He's caught her again. Peeking inside the bag and running her finger over the pointed arch of one ear, then the other.
"Scene?" The word makes it out before she can stop it. An affronted huff as she snaps the bag shut, but that just feeds the fire. It just sharpens the annoying gleam in his eye.
"Sarah Grace is just a baby, Beckett." The elevator dings and bumps to a stop. He rests one hand at the small of her back as he gestures her into the hall with the other. "You're older and you know better, so you have to set an example. I don't want any fussing when she gets a present and you don't."
She'd like to kill him. She really would. She swings the bag at his middle, sputtering, but he laughs and catches it easily. He takes it from her and peers inside. He scowls and shifts things a little, tapping his palm against the side of the bag to plump it out again.
"Besides . . ." He gives her a stern look as he raises his fist to knock on the door. "Maybe there'll be a present later. If you're a good girl."
Jenny's adamant about trying it on right away.
"She's asleep," Castle protests, but it's more because he should than he wants to. Kate can see he's pleased. She can see he's eager to see the gift in all its adorable glory.
"She's always asleep." Ryan laughs as he holds his daughter up so Jenny can unzip her sleeper. "We're lucky."
"Guys, it's ok. You can send us pictures when she has a chance to try it on," Kate adds her objection though she's just as eager as Castle. And, anyway, the two of them already have the baby stripped down to just a bulky cloth diaper and its cover.
"Oh, there will be pictures." Jenny hugs the tiny bottoms to her chest, tapping the fluffy cotton tail so it bobs. "Rick, this is just . . I can't believe you made this."
"Yeah, Castle. Can't believe it." Ryan's needling him a little. Looking to Beckett for backup, and she knows he can't wait to tell Esposito.
But Jenny tugs the soft, fawn-colored knit up Sarah's chubby thighs. She settles the hat on her head and smooths up the ears at the exact second the wide, blue eyes flick open, and Kevin is as gobsmacked as the rest of them. It's so cute it's criminal.
Jenny's soft oooh draws a toothless, drooling smile. Kevin straightens his arms and fumbles to turn his daughter to face him. Jenny laughs and takes her, holding her up high and turning her from side to side so everyone gets a look.
Her tiny feet kick and wave. Her belly shakes over the snug rib of the waistband as she laughs and gurgles, delighted that she has the full attention of four people.
"Family picture," Castle gestures, and the Ryans meet cheek to cheek in the center of the couch. Sarah's "ears" tickle their noses and he snaps the camera at the perfect moment. He catches the two of them laughing. He catches Sarah shrieking with glee.
"Now with Aunt Kate and Uncle Rick." Jenny pops up. "They made this for you, baby bunny," she says blowing a raspberry against the bare skin of her back
Kate's about to protest that it was Castle-all Castle-but Jenny thrusts Sarah into her arms just then. Into her suddenly, incredibly awkward arms. Kate freezes. She's stiff and staring. Horrified enough that Castle can't entirely mask a guffaw as he slides on to the arm of her chair, shielding her from the judgmental eyes of the new parents. She stares at him, a mute plea-a mute threat or something in between-for him to take the damned baby, but he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
"Look at you," he says softly.
He flicks his fingers at the baby's bare, wriggling toes, but he only has eyes for Kate as she takes a breath and everything comes right. Everything feels different in a moment so present that it settles on the three of them like sunlight. Kate bounces her knee and Sarah's head comes happily to rest in the crook of her elbow. Castle leans in, drawn to them both.
"Guys!" Kevin snaps his fingers overhead. The three of them look up and the artificial shutter clicks.
"Oh, perfect," Jenny coos. She snatches the phone to hold it up, and it is. The picture is perfect.
The three of them. They're appallingly cute.