Arms
Author: Allyson Rae
Summary: "You put your arms around me and I'm home." Just a little Kate-centric, post "Always" fic inspired by Christina Perri's "Arms." Not a song-fic, I promise. :)
Rating: K+/T
Author's Note: So apparently, I am on a fanfiction-writing spree. Thank you Andrew Marlowe, for bring my muse back to me. It's been a long time. Anyway, this is inspired by Christina Perri's song "Arms," which will always be my official Caskett song. As much as I love "In My Veins," it reminds me more of a breakup… I promise this isn't a song-fic. I grew out of that when I was 15. :D Anyway, just a little Kate-centric thing that came to me while I was sipping my iced coffee and waiting to turn in a final paper. I hope you guys like it. :)
Disclaimer: Castle is not mine. I wish it was, because then I would be the most celebrated show-runner of all-time right about now. But no, I'm just having myself a playdate with Andrew W. Marlowe's characters. Oh…oh crap, I gotta go. Castle's got his laser gun pointed right for—oh. I lost. Again.
I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start
How many times will you let me change my mind and turn around?
I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
..:::..
If someone had told her four years ago that she'd be waking up in Richard Castle's bed, she would have laughed in their face. Actually, four years ago, she never would have believed that Richard Castle would ever be a permanent fixture in her life, outside the pages of his novels. But now, she knew that it had been inevitable from the moment she'd flashed her badge in his face and took him in for questioning. It was as if they had been made for each other: two puzzle pieces perfectly shaped and waiting to be brought together by the hand of fate. And she'd fought it; for so long she'd allowed herself to ignore fate's intentions and deny the truth that had been there all along: she was meant to love and be loved by Richard Castle.
She was wrapped in his embrace, her head pillowed on his bicep and his other arm draped protectively over her waist. The warmth of his breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck as he snored softly behind her. Untangling her legs from his, she turned to face him, the comforter that covered them slipping down to reveal the hard lines of his chest. Softly, being careful not to wake him, she allowed her fingertips to dance along his skin, mapping out and exploring the territory that had been half-hidden in the darkness of the night. But here in the soft light of dawn, she was able to trace every freckle, line and scar that peppered his skin. Resting a hand over his sternum, she felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat deep within his chest. She basked in it for a moment, breathing in time with each beat to remind herself that this was real: that she was here, in this moment with him.
She moved her gaze—and her touch—then to his face, relaxed in sleep, smoothing out the skin around his eyes. She'd never seen him this peaceful; he was always animated—always exuberant: moving, talking, and bringing life to her death-filled days. But this peacefulness was a new kind of life for Kate Beckett—the kind of life she'd dreamed of having, but never thought she'd find. Here, with this man—this incorrigible, insufferable, wonderful man, she had everything that ever mattered.
Her fingertips were still sore from the rough scrape of concrete as she clung to that building's edge, but it was a satisfying burn: a pain that reminded her she'd survived to make it to this moment, alive and breathing in the arms of her partner—her best friend. In those few precious moments, as she clung to life, she saw with clarity the things she wanted most—who she wanted most: him. It was that life-altering clarity that had led her to his door, soaked to the skin and praying that she wasn't already too late.
"Beckett, what do you want?"
"You."
When she propelled herself toward him, seeking out his lips and the warmth of his arms, she knew that this was the only place she wanted to be. Because it did not matter how many times either one of them walked away; in the end, he was her North Star, guiding her back to him—back home.
And now she was home, lying in his bed and tracing the lines of his face, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin and seeping into her bones, her veins, her heart—setting every nerve on fire. He had breathed life back into her body and now she couldn't stop feeling—never wanted to. She rubbed the pad of her thumb across his lower lip, studying the still-swollen, reddened skin with intensity. She was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her thumb then, catching her wrist in his hand to hold her there. She rested her palm against the stubble on his cheek and lifted her gaze to meet his bright blue eyes, sparkling back at her in the morning sun. The corners of his mouth lifted, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as she pressed her lips to his.
She felt his smile widen when she whispered her "I love you" against his mouth—and laughter bubbled from within her throat when he rolled to cover her body with his, his weight pressing her back into the mattress.
Later, there would be plenty of things to discuss: her resignation, the events that had led her to his door, her fears and his as well. But right now—in this moment—nothing else mattered but the blue of his eyes and the steady, synchronized beating of their hearts.
..:::..
I tried my best to never let you in to see the truth
And I've never opened up
I've never truly loved 'till you put your arms around me
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go
I hope that you see right through my walls
I hope that you catch me, 'cause I'm already falling
I'll never let a love get so close
You put your arms around me and I'm home
— Christina Perri, "Arms"