Hanging By This Moment Part 2

For a moment she's afraid that maybe he's already left when she doesn't see him with the boys. And maybe it'd be better if he had. She's been nervous about coming to the Old Haunt ever since she formed the idea. Lanie had to practically drag her there (Girl, this was your suggestion!) and even at that she still found herself having to down an extra glass of wine at dinner beforehand.

She has no clue what she's doing anymore. It shouldn't be a big deal. She's only hanging out with her friends, her partner. But somehow she knows it's not only that. Has it ever been only that? Would she really go home, shower, spend forever in front of her closet puzzling over what to wear if it meant nothing? Would she have chosen this black dress, these heels, the cherry scented fragrance she still remembers him taking note of like it was a secret meant for only him – would she have done these things if he didn't mean more to her than just a partner? It's been an entire evening spent alternating between denial and some innate need to be near him again.

The boys nod toward a booth and she can't help but smile when she spots him there. It's a reaction so natural at this point she doesn't attempt to suppress it. It's not at all fair how good he looks when he hasn't even changed from what he's worn all day. It's only been several hours since she's seen him and it still stirs a warmth inside her, his presence both a comfort and a catalyst that sets her heart racing.

His eyes meet hers and now…now he's looking at her across the room like he wants to devour her, the emotion on his face so undisguised that she can feel her hands shaking as she reaches for the drink Lanie hands her from the bar.

Before she knows it they're all walking back to the booth, shuffling into seats, and somehow (like there was any other choice) she winds up sitting next to him, the tension between them palpable, almost stifling.

The boys and Lanie are laughing about something but she can't seem to focus on anything but the heat of his body, too close but not nearly close enough. He seems to be having the same problem because his eyes have yet to leave hers.

"Hi." His voice ghosts across the bare skin of her shoulder, deliciously low and she shivers, chills shooting down her spine.

"Hi," she returns, proud that she's able to keep her voice even, to not give away the erratic beating of her heart.

"I thought you had plans?" With Josh.

"They changed." Because I'd rather see you than wait at home for him.

He nods at that, lifts his glass and finishes the last of his drink before meeting her eyes again. "I'm glad."

She swallows nervously, lets the warmth of his words wash over her. "Me too."

He smiles and she feels herself relax a little into the wood of the booth, lets out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and they finally turn their attention back to the others.

Hours pass while they talk and laugh, the crowd gradually thinning around them. She's happy she came tonight. Everyone seems to be having fun, the mood considerably lightened by the banter between the boys and Lanie's directness that has a way of always keeping Esposito in line. Castle is slightly more quiet than usual but it doesn't seem like anything is wrong. It's more that there's an intensity to him that she's not used to, an electricity in his gaze, his words measured, chosen carefully. But she can tell he meant what he said, he's glad she's there. She can feel it in the air between them, in the accidental brush of their hands as he reaches for his drink, in the way that he's angled his body just barely towards hers, the distance between them seeming to shrink with each passing minute.

Around midnight his phone buzzes on the table, a call from Alexis, and he excuses himself to his office.

It's not long afterward that she spies Espo giving Lanie what she's sure he believes are subtle clues that he's ready to leave. Yeah…not so much but she can't help but smile. They both deserve to be happy. She nudges Ryan under the table and he smirks.

"Looks like someone is ready to go."

Lanie rolls her eyes and smacks Esposito on the shoulder, "C'mon Javi, let's go before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have."

Ryan continues to smirk while Espo glares at him. Lanie and he slide out of the booth and Ryan stands as well, looking at his watch. "I guess I'm going to head out too. Tell Castle goodbye for us, Beckett?"

"Sure, yeah, you guys have a good night."

She bites at her bottom lip, finds herself alone. She glances around the bar, taking note that it's almost empty. She should probably (definitely) go now. But she doesn't want to leave without telling him goodbye. She wonders if she should wait at the table or go downstairs. He's been gone about fifteen minutes and she doesn't want to intrude if there's anything wrong with Alexis.

Oh, screw it, she doesn't want to sit around by herself, she'll just go down there, say a quick thanks for the drinks (he never lets them pay) and go.

She makes her way down the wooden steps, wondering what he's done with the office since he bought the place. She had been down here once since, right after the case they had when he'd first taken over the bar, but he'd not had a chance to do anything yet. She's never admitted to him just how cool she thinks it is that he's so interested in The Old Haunt's history and all of the traditions surrounding the place. She loves the way he lights up when he talks about it, loves when she discovers these things that are genuinely him, enjoys hearing stories from his past. There are actually a lot of things she's never admitted that she finds intriguing about him and they share more similarities than she's ever been willing to reveal. Maybe it's time she start admitting some of those things.

She can hear him saying goodbye and she pauses at the bottom of the stairs, watches as he runs a hand through his hair, his back still to her, seeming not to notice that she's there.

She takes a moment to admire the broad expanse of his back. His jacket was long gone when she arrived tonight, the charcoal gray shirt he wore underneath fits him snugly and she can see the hard outline of muscles that stretch across his shoulders.

She takes a deep breath, brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and opens her mouth to speak. He must finally sense her there because he turns abruptly, startles when he sees her by the steps.

"Kate…"

"I was just coming to say goodnight. Lanie and the boys left but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye and thanking you for the drinks."

He glances at the clock on the wall. "Oh, yeah, I guess it is getting late. Sorry about being gone so long. Apparently my mother and her friends decided to have happy hour in the loft earlier tonight and Alexis was trying to figure out the best way to get maraschino cherry juice out of the rug…" He rolls his eyes dramatically.

She laughs and arches an eyebrow at him. "I take it club soda didn't work?"

"No, and neither did lemon juice which is the best solution according to Google. Guess I'll be calling the cleaner again tomorrow."

They drift into silence and she plays with the chain of her mother's necklace nervously, turning the ring over and over again. He's running his hand across one of the toy dinosaurs sitting on the desk. Both of them are avoiding eye contact and why is this suddenly so awkward? It was supposed to be a quick goodbye but now that she's here she's not sure what to say.

"Well, I guess I should go."

She begins to walk away, fully prepared to make a break for it up the stairs, desperate to escape the tension that's descended upon them, when she feels his hand catch her wrist.

"Wait."

His voice is lower than she thinks she's ever heard it and she can feel her pulse begin to race, her heart thumping within her chest. She turns back slowly, her eyes trailing from the place where he's still touching her, and then up and along his body until she finally meets his gaze.

A moment passes where neither of them speak; their chemistry is electric, sends sparks shooting through her veins and she watches as his eyes darken. The room is dim, lit only by lamps on the wall, artificial flames meant to mimic the old kerosene lamps she's sure he researched when decorating the office. The soft light flickers across his face, shadowy and almost haunting. It takes her breath away.

"There's something I need to ask you." His voice breaks the silence and she feels his thumb begin to swipe gently, drawing circles along her wrist.

"Hmm?"

His touch is warming her skin, sending butterflies through her stomach and she's entirely distracted by the sensation.

"Why did you come here tonight, Beckett?"

Her heart stutters and her mind scrambles to find an answer. Something about the way the way he's asking and the way he hasn't let go of her makes it impossible to deny the real reason. How can she lie to him when he's looking at her this way?

"I wanted to see you."

"Why?"

She doesn't know what to say. She's not even sure she can explain it, all the things she feels, the way he's become embedded in everything, her mind, her heart. The way he takes the bad days and gives her laughter, smiles. The way the good days are always connected to him. The way he's always there when Josh…isn't.

His grip on her wrist tightens. "Why, Beckett?" He asks again, voice rougher this time, a little desperate.

She drags her eyes up to his, sees the need reflecting clearly in them, even in the semi-darkness of his office.

"I just…I don't know, Castle."

She ducks her head, lets her hair fall across her face, suddenly terrified. It's too much. They don't do this. They don't talk about these things. She doesn't know why he's pushing her tonight, what has made him decide to cross the lines they don't cross and she feels like she's suffocating, like the walls are closing in around her.

He brings his other hand to cup her chin, draws her face up to meet his gaze again, and trails his fingertips across the line of her jaw, tucking the hair behind her ear. She can feel her body trembling underneath his touch, can only imagine the emotions her face is betraying. She's completely unguarded right now, at his mercy.

He observes her for a moment and she can see his mind is working at something, struggling to choose his words. He finally sighs. "You could be happy, Kate. You deserve to be happy."

His eyes are shining at her, full of something she's scared to decipher, something she's positive is a reflection of her own.

"What makes you think that I'm not?"

It's defensive, a futile attempt to stall the conversation, laughable really but she doesn't know what else to do. She's too afraid to say what she knows she should and too swept up in him to walk away.

"Because you're here." Not with him.

She wants to be angry. She wants to yell and shove him away and fight against his presumptiveness. She wants to punish him for calling her out, for disrupting the careful balance of her life, for making her have this conversation when she's not ready, when it's not safe.

But she doesn't. She can't. Because he's right.

"Tell me you don't feel this too and I will let you go right now. Tell me that you're happy with him, Kate."

His blue eyes are piercing with the same intensity she's felt all night.

"Tell me, Kate!"

He flips them around in an instant and she feels herself being pressed up against the antique wooden desk, his hands coming to rest along the surface on either side of her. She's overwhelmed by the closeness of his body, the woodsy scent of his cologne, the lingering sweetness of the whiskey he drank tonight, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint she has not to wrap herself around him.

She can feel his breath warm against her cheek as he waits her out. He's not letting her off the hook tonight. It's as though something in him has finally snapped, the weight of all the things they never voice has finally done him in. And he's determined to take her down with him.

She squeezes her eyes shut. She can't think clearly with him this close, his body, his mouth just inches away. She's every bit as exhausted as he is from fighting this. So tired of resisting his touch, the comfort he brings, the adrenaline that flows through her whenever he's beside her.

"I can't."

He moves his hands to her shoulders, trails his fingertips down her arms, finally takes her hands in his.

"I can't tell you that I don't feel it too, Castle." The words come out choked and she can feel the tears pooling in her eyes as she realizes just how far deep she's in this, just how incredibly affected she is by him.

"Then let me be the one who gets to do this."

He reaches up, swipes his thumb across her cheek, catches the tear before it falls.

"I don't know how," she admits.

"Just give me a chance to prove to you how good this can be."

He recaptures her hands, squeezes gently, and she feels her pulse quicken, just waiting, anticipating where he's going with this. He has this look in his eyes as though he's been planning this all along and she's too caught up in wondering what's next to prepare for his movements.

"I'd start right here," he murmurs, pulling her hand up to his mouth. "Where I can feel the way your heart beats faster underneath my lips."

He presses a soft kiss to inside of her wrist, right at her pulse point and she has to fight to keep her eyes from fluttering shut.

"Then, I'd work my way up your arms, watch the way your body reacts to my fingertips skimming across your bare skin."

He runs his hands along her arms, slowly, oh god, so slowly, and she can't suppress the shiver that runs through her body at the feeling as he stares at her with unmasked longing.

"And I'd never be able to resist teasing this spot, right here."

He brushes her hair back, lightly traces a pattern along her collarbone, and she unconsciously tilts her head to the side, can feel her legs weakening. His eyes flash at her, dark and dangerous and so incredibly sexy as he leans closer, presses his lips against her neck, just below her ear.

She gasps as his mouth brushes over her skin, his breath a warm caress and she feels like she's on fire, burning from his touch. It's wrong, it's so incredibly wrong but she can't help the moan that escapes her as he works his way along the slope of her jaw, inching closer, so much closer to where she longs for their mouths to meet.

It's overwhelming how badly she wants him. She's melting under his hands, his lips and it's incredible how good this feels, how he can evoke such a strong reaction when he's barely even touching her. She has to fight to stay still, to keep herself from falling against him, into his arms and never letting go again.

He pauses at the corner of her mouth. Presses the faintest of kisses to the skin there before pulling back and it takes everything she has not to chase his mouth with hers.

"Someday I will kiss you again, Kate, and when I do, it will be for real. Someday…when you're ready."

She can't speak. He's reduced her to a wordless mess of need, her body thrumming with desire, arousal, him.

"But for now, the only place I really, truly need to be is here."

He takes her hand, raises it along with his, clasps them together against her chest so that she can feel her heart beating underneath.

She stares down at their joined hands, lifts her eyes back to his and she's surprised to see that they're shining at her, full of emotion that causes her own throat to clog again.

"I know you're not mine. I know this is not my choice to make. But I can't live my life wondering what could have been if I hadn't told you how I feel. Kate, I'm in love with you."

He watches the emotions play across her face, a mixture of surprise and a little bit of fear. But it's something else that strikes him, something a lot like I love you too written in her eyes. There's a longing there he's only seen in times where he knows she doesn't think he's looking, times when he's caught her off guard, times when they've both found themselves in situations they aren't sure they'll make it out of. But now…now it's all on display, unguarded; and for the first time she's letting him see everything, giving this to him the only way she knows how.

She opens her mouth to speak and he waits breathlessly, tries to prepare himself for whatever she's about to say, just as the sound of her ringtone blares from her purse, still resting by the foot of the stairs where she dropped it earlier.

He wants to scream, wants to run across the room and smash her phone, throw it against the wall because, no, this is not the time, this can't be happening again.

She bites her lip, hesitating. They both know there are only two possibilities: murder or Josh.

She backs away and his heart sinks with every step she takes.

He wishes he could disappear, crawl under his desk and hide because he just bared his entire soul to her and she holds his heart in her hands. It's hers now to keep or demolish all in a matter of seconds.

And then, the words he's feared the most spill from her lips as she answers the call. "Josh…hey."

He turns away, just like he did eight hours before because he can't face her now. Doesn't know if he can face her ever again if she chooses him after the moment they just shared.

He sits against the edge of his desk, finds a spot to focus on on the wall, silently willing this to just end as he faintly hears the doctor saying something to her on the other side of the line.

"Okay…yeah," she speaks and he closes his eyes, clenches his jaw because he cannot believe that she's going to have a conversation with him right here, right now.

"Tomorrow? I can do that. 12:30…alright, bye."

He nearly jumps when he feels her touch his shoulder. When did she get so close? He exhales slowly as her hand climbs, curls around the back of his neck, and she comes to stand in front of him.

"Hey."

Her voice is soft, tentative, unspoken apologies swimming in her eyes.

"I needed to take that."

He lowers his gaze to stare at the floor. "Yeah."

She angles his face back up, forces him to meet her gaze. He can't decipher the look on her face. Determination maybe? She clears her throat and starts again.

"I needed to take it because I do feel this."

She reaches for his hand, entwines their fingers, presses them to her chest where her heart is thundering beneath her skin.

"And I can't keep walking away from you."

He swallows back the wave of emotion that sweeps over him with her words, fights the urge to pick her up and spin her around and never let her go again. He can hardly believe what she's saying, that this is actually happening, and he's completely at a loss for words, knows he's practically gaping at her with wide eyes.

"Didn't think it was possible to shut you up that easily, Castle." She nudges him with her knee playfully. He expects to see her signature smirk but instead she's smiling, can't keep the joy from shining on her face.

He leans closer, trails his thumb along her bottom lip.

"If it means I get to do this, I'll gladly shut up."

Her eyes darken as her mouth falls open under his caress. She exhales, an audible breath filled with yearning and promise; and she sinks toward him, rests her forehead against his.

They're having a moment; and this time he's not afraid of the end.

AN: Once again, infinite thanks and love to Nic and Jess for encouragement and edits on this. Also, thank you all so much for the reviews and follows! I've been amazed at the response. And as always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.