Close Encounters 11

When the storm had blown over and the moon came out, Castle untangled from her in the bed, easing away when she made a noise in her sleep. Sasha woke and followed him down the hall and into the bare extra bedroom, her tail swishing at the night time adventure. Castle opened the closet door and checked the safe, counting his extra weapons and all their passports and travel documents he'd stored there, and then he locked it up again and moved back out into the hall.

In their office, he repeated his safety-check procedure with the hidden safe that held their cover identities and alias passports, but it was as it should be. He opened his laptop and woke it up with a tap of the space bar, waited for the log in screen to load.

His password was a complicated combination that changed each month according to a code program he'd installed, and April had come and gone with him in Russia. He sat there for a minute as he tried to remember last month's iteration so he could extrapolate the new code from the old. It came to him slowly, too slowly, and he kept losing track of the formula in his head. He had to snag a scrap of paper and use a pencil, cursing himself as he did.

He was just tired. He should be in bed, but he needed to do this first.

When he'd finally signed in, the CIA portal popped up with his messages and memos, information pipelines channeled into a feed that even now was loading with new items. He scanned his email quickly, but there'd been nothing more from the keeper in North Africa. However, there was traction on his request to interview Viktor Bout - looked like it was going to be approved.

He read the missive quickly and replied back with a scheduling request now that some of the red tape had cleared. Bout would lead him to the money and hopefully plug a few holes in his Russian terrorist organization. And if he was lucky, there'd be some additional intel about possible channels for Bracken's dirty money as well. He felt better for having movement on this, since it was their open mission, and he went back to Bracken with some settled satisfaction.

With a click of a button, he was accessing Beckett's work station and pulling the files she'd gathered this afternoon, plus the results from the search she'd left running. He collated it haphazardly, sticking information in groups depending on how it struck him, knowing that Beckett and Malone had a painstaking system.

But he wasn't looking for structure and adherence to the box; he wasn't even looking for Beckett's leaps of clever, calculated insight.

He was looking for random. He was looking for the flaw in the machine.

Castle knew what it was to be the machine, and now he knew what a broken machine looked like. How it collapsed, how it rose up against its overlords - because that was what he'd done. He could judge the signs of imminent revolt better than he could find the legal connections that Beckett was going for.

Sasha whined at him and yawned widely, then she dropped to his feet and snuggled in. Castle leaned down absent-mindedly and scratched her between the ears, his eyes on the screen.

It was time to end this standoff with Bracken.

A few days after the spectacular storm, Beckett came home from a re-training session to find their home was empty. Even Sasha was gone. She stood still in the entryway and breathed as deeply as her bruised body would allow, and then she closed the door behind her and set the alarm.

She hoped he wasn't staying out long; she had plans for him tonight. Actually, she had plans for them, and she hadn't told him because it was all supposed to be a surprise.

She checked the time and started dinner, the lamb she knew he liked best and which was easy enough for her to make without screwing it up. She put everything together in the crock pot and set the timer, glad she had a few moments alone to get ready.

She'd just shed her clothes and slipped into a hot bath when she heard her phone chime the alarm alert and then came the sound of the door closing downstairs. The dog barked as if to let her know they were home and Kate smiled to herself but closed her eyes, let Castle come find her.

"Oh, darn," his voice came from the doorway. She opened her eyes and lifted a knee in invitation.

"Not the response I was hoping for, seeing me naked," she murmured, her lips pressing into a grin.

"Oh, the naked view is excellent. But I have a surprise for you and you're all wet."

"I know a surprise for me that would work really well with being wet," she said, not even subtle about it. Of course, the one night he had a surprise for her and she was trying to do something for him.

Castle smiled that predatory smile and lifted up from the door frame, came sauntering into the bathroom and settled down beside the bathtub. "Is that ever really a surprise, Beckett?"

"No, baby, it's not. But I sure do love it."

He chuckled, his eyes silver in the light, reached out a hand to trace his finger on her raised knee.

She shivered and felt the humor begin to evaporate. "Why don't you save your other surprise for later and join me instead?"

"You just had training," he murmured. "I can see the bruises from here."

"I can take it," she shot back, an eyebrow to his concern.

"I know. But can I?"

She closed her mouth because that was a valid point as well. And she was done with pushing him past his endurance. That was her way of coping, not his, and she'd do what she could to minimize his grief. If he didn't want to push her, then fine, she could do without sex for a few days. Maybe.

His thumb landed at the inside of her knee, stroked softly as he studied her. And then the smile came back, that happy and childlike look in his eyes that she'd begun to see more and more lately.

"Relax in your bath, Kate. I'll be here when you get out," he promised.

"I can get out now," she murmured, ready for those promises.

"Surprise first," he insisted.

She narrowed her eyes at him - she was ruining a perfectly good bath for sex, not for whatever he was hiding - but he gave her only another stunning grin and she couldn't possibly ignore how much he wanted to share.

"Fine. Surprise first," she sighed, aware that her own surprise still waited. But she lifted her head from the edge of the tub and held out her hand to him, challenge in her gesture.

Castle took her hand and stood, pulled her to her feet and into his chest, the water soaking his t-shirt. He must have changed out of work clothes when he'd gotten home, taken the dog with him, and gone pretty quickly. She'd left early from the office for training at the center outside of the city, but it had gone for two hours.

Castle lifted her over the edge of the tub, a move that did actually surprise her, and she laughed and hooked her arm around his neck, let her body slide down his jeans and cotton shirt with that delicious friction.

He snagged the towel from the rack, wrapped it around her only to use it to tug her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, her body still dripping water.

"Clothes, you'll have to put on clothes, Kate." He was already pulling open her dresser drawer and flinging a t-shirt her direction, a pair of jeans.

"Underwear," she demanded, wiping down with the towel as she shivered. She got a pair of purple plaid panties to the face for that and she laughed at the look he threw her, bent over to slip them on, giving him a view.

Castle hesitated in front of her, desire warring with excitement on his face, and she could see the moment desire trumped whatever it was he had for her downstairs.

"Okay," he growled. "Never mind. Let's-"

"No," she laughed, straightening up and moving away from him. "I got out of my nice hot bath for this - not for that - and you're not having it now."

He sighed, watched her get dressed with his eyes hungry for her every movement, and if she hadn't just laid down the law, she'd abandon everything to make him wild with it. But no. She had a plan here tonight too, and she was saving that for later.

Castle reached out and took her by the belt loop on her jeans, drew her closer when she got them up over her hips. He nudged her hands aside and worked at the zipper himself, slid it slowly up when all she wanted now was for him to slide it down again.

He breathed a kiss against her cheekbone, another, buttoned her jeans for her, his body radiating heat, better than any bath.

"Come downstairs with me, love."

She nodded, ready to do anything.

Castle rocked on his toes as he rounded the doorway into the kitchen. Kate trailed behind him, putting out all kinds of smoky-eyed hotness, but he wanted her to see this first. Wanted to see her face without his own lust clouding the view.

He got to the kitchen table where he'd put the whole tray, and then he held out his hands with a silent voila. She turned to look and the stunned little laugh that popped out of her mouth was totally worth it.

"You - bought me a garden?" she asked, lifting her eyes to him and then back. She came forward slowly, her wet hair snaking down her back and soaking her t-shirt, and her hands reached out for the plants lining the tray.

"Like ours in Rome."

"You remembered," she sighed, her fingertips skimming the top of a cheerful green plant. The scent of herbs was redolent and rich, coming up at them in waves. "Castle, I love it."

His chest tightened with relief, and he leaned against the door frame. "It can be moved indoors during the winter. Makes it easy with these little planter things." He crept closer and touched the top of the tallest plant. "This is your basil."

"I can smell it," she murmured, drawing in a breath and closing her eyes. "Heavenly."

He grinned into the face of her pleasure, so glad he'd delayed gratification long enough to show this to her. "I also got rosemary and mint. And a hot pepper plant to spice things up."

She laughed and her eyes sparked open. "We can put it on the patio back there," she murmured. "It gets good sunlight."

He nodded and slid his hand to her lower back; she wrapped around him for a hug, effortless and warm, and then she turned to the plants still in their tight rows.

"In winter," he said, "I guess we need to find a place for them. The guy at the nursery said keep them near a window but not right up against it or the cold will seep in and kill them."

"Actually," she murmured, her fingers tracing delicately over a leaf. "The nursery is a good place."

The nursery was a... what?

She glanced behind them towards the stairs and it struck him like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh," he said. "The nursery. Our - the empty bedroom." She called it the nursery? All the time or just now? Wait. Did that mean-

"No, no, sorry," she laughed, shaking her head. "It's not a subtle way of giving you news. Just how I think of that space. I'm sorry."

Her fingers came to his waist, a sharp spark of awareness that threatened to pull his guts right out. The want returned so fast and thick that he bowed over and pressed his mouth to hers even as she opened it to say something. He stole her words, cupped her shoulders in his hands and drew her into him, wanted so badly to fill that room with more than a baby herb garden.

"Rick," she gasped.

"How you feel, Kate?" he murmured against her mouth, sipping again from her lips, again, needing it.

"Feel? Castle, I'm fi-"

He brought her closer, shifting his hips into her so that she groaned, clutching his shirt and panting now. "Kate, love, how do you feel?"

"Good, strong. I feel strong," she said fiercely. "Ready for anything."

"I want to try," he whispered, kissed the thin warmth of her eyelid as she moaned. Her sounds vibrated him like a tuning fork and he lowered his arms to her hips and yanked her against him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and nipped at his jaw, her teeth scraping the scruff he'd let grow out. Her mouth was making his arms shake, his knees unstable, and he had to back her towards the doorway, drop them both onto the couch.

Kate snaked her hand between them and he gasped, grunted a plea into her neck as his hips sought her touch.

"Try what?" she whispered. Her tongue met his bottom lip and he turned his head to catch her but she was chuckling and moving on. "Try this?"

"Try. I wanna try us, try this, our family."

She ground her hips into him. "You wanna knock me up, super spy?"

Ah, shit. "Yes. Please. Kate."

"Let's try," she whispered. But then she pushed on his shoulders with both hands and held him off. "But first."

"What?" What could possibly be first?

"We've - uh - got plans tonight."

"I got plans for you all right," he murmured, sneaking in to press his open mouth to her neck, feel her shiver for him.

She groaned and clutched at his ears, but her knee came up between them. "You - we - have to get dressed."

"We have to get undressed."

"No, no," she murmured, but her lips ghosted his jaw. "Wait. I'm serious."

"I am dead serious too, baby. You-"

The doorbell rang and he jerked back from her; she was flushed and sexy and she looked completely disconsolate. At least she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

"Tell them to go away," he muttered, moving in to rub his cheek against the v-neck of her shirt.

"Can't," she sighed. "It's all of our friends - our family."

"What?"

"Lanie, Espo and Ryan, and Mitch and Malone."

"Shit," he muttered against her skin, nipping at the slope of her chest where he wanted so badly to dwell for a few minutes, hours, days. "Are you serious?"

"Don't you smell dinner? It's been cooking since I got home and I invited them over-"

"Why would you do that?" he growled. "Tell them to go away. I wanna have sex with my wife."

She gripped his hair and tugged his face away from her; he winced as he looked at the flash of irritation in her eyes.

"For you, you ungrateful bully. For your birthday."

"It's not my birthday."

The doorbell rang again, longer this time, like whoever was out there was leaning against it.

"It's your make-up birthday," she explained quickly, shoving him off of her and getting up from the couch. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, and so was he, and it probably wasn't how she'd planned for this evening to go.

Well, him either.

"Make-up birthday?"

"I wanted to celebrate with our little family, and then later... I got something for you."

He perked up even as she went for the door. "You do?"

"Yeah. So be a good birthday boy and go change into something nice. Then we'll switch off and I'll get dressed while you entertain."

He followed her to the door and snagged her jeans by the back pocket, hauled her into his chest. She went gracefully enough, letting him know she'd let him, and then he pressed a soft, gentle kiss to her lips in thanks. "I've never had a birthday party before."

"You're killing me," she whispered, eyes so tender.

The doorbell buzzed angrily.

"Answer the door, Kate." He let her go and headed for the stairs.

She glanced across the dining room table to watch him laugh. The lines around his eyes and mouth were deep but beautiful, his face transformed as the laughter caught him. He was flirting with Lanie - the two of them hadn't talked much, and she was glad they were getting better acquainted. Lanie could be snarky with the best of them and it looked like she was regaling Castle with lots of stories that might or might not be true.

"Can't believe you made dinner," Mitchell said at her left side. Across the table, Castle chuckled again and shook a finger at Lanie, but Esposito was jumping in with something too. She hoped he was being nice; it was Castle's birthday. Make-up birthday.

"Well, I figured I should give him a night off," Kate smiled at Mitch. She wondered if this was the time and place he'd chosen to finally explain. "You up for talking?"

He gave her a raised eyebrow but sat forward in his chair. Jenny and Ryan were at Kate's right but they'd fallen down the rabbit hole with Malone, listening to his in-depth paranoia when it came to cell phones, and that gave Beckett and Mitchell some protective solitude.

"I know you know more about the regimen than you let on," she said quietly. She shot another glance to Castle and tried not to garner his attention. He was glancing back and forth between Lanie and Espo, looking amused. Trust that her husband would get the truth out of those two about their relationship; he always knew the best gossip.

Mitchell pushed his fork across his mostly empty plate and drew her focus back to him. He pressed his thumb into the sauce for the lamb and then put it in his mouth, such a strange gesture that Kate felt the hair rise on the back of her neck.

"He's like my brother," Mitchell said quietly. "Though I know he and Mark Eastman were - close. I looked up to them both when I first got to the Agency, so I saw - I know. Still. I'd never let anything happen to Castle."

"I know," she said quietly. The last few years she'd gotten to work so closely with Mitch and Mal and Mason - all of them together - and she knew what Mitchell would do, knew he saw Castle as an older brother who was, in the end, too cool for him. He kept trying though.

"When I came on, everyone knew about it," he sighed. He scraped his fork over the plate once more and then let it clatter down. "Everyone knew he was special. He got private attention from the instructors and managers were told to let him do what he wanted. He was the son of a god."

Kate laced her fingers together in her lap and tried to figure out why his words sounded so sad.

"We all knew he was on the regimen. Castle himself talked about it. About having to take shots or the extra skills training or whatever. There was this unspoken rule in our unit that you didn't confirm or deny. If Castle asked me, hey, how was debrief? Then I said fine and didn't explain."

"Explain?"

"That my debrief looked a whole different than his."

"Black told you all to keep separate from him?"

"He never said it. But yeah." Mitchell shrugged as if uncomfortable. "If I'd thought for a second it was harming him somehow... but it didn't. You see that, right? He's not sick or anything."

"No, he's not," she agreed softly. And the clumsiness she'd seen from him, the slow mental processing - that could all be a result of nearly dying from the infection in his leg and then having to haul her broken ass out of Russia.

"Black had him on infusions in Turkey," Mitchell said suddenly. "High doses. I've never seen him so - he wasn't sure. I don't think he knew for sure that it would work."

"What would work?" she said stiffly, felt her throat closing up. "Infusions of what?"

"The regimen." Mitchell rubbed the back of his neck. "He should never have survived. I saw him. Beckett, I saw the way he looked when Black flew him into Turkey and it was bad. He was - he'd lost too much blood and then the infection..."

"What are you saying?"

"Whatever is in it - whatever the regimen consists of - it saved his life," Mitchell said baldly. She'd never see him so unsure of himself, so knocked off his axis. He was usually as charming and suave as Castle could be, but not tonight, not now.

"How long?" she murmured, tried to keep from looking as shaken as she felt. Castle's eyes were roaming over their friends now, and she avoided his gaze, glanced back to Mitch with something like a smile on her face. "How long did Black give him the infusion?"

"At least nine days, that I kept track of," he said. His eyes finally lifted to hers and he gave a long sigh, a quirk of a smile back. She knew they both felt false.

"Nine days he was on some unknown - drug - and then...?"

"And then he woke up. He was transferred from the base in Turkey to Ramstein. You heard what happened."

"What 'happened'," she said flatly. "His rescue attempt."

"He was at death's door and then a day later, he's walking out of the hospital and onto the tarmac outside the airport."

"Oh," she murmured.

"Yeah, that regimen's some good shit. We put him under after that, to let him fully heal, but that didn't take long."

Kate rubbed at her cheek and tried to smile; she could see Castle watching her, contentment on his face, and she didn't want to go into it now. This whole thing. She wanted to celebrate his birthday with their friends and forget that his father had ever had a part in bringing them to this day.

She stood up and cleared her throat; immediately she had everyone's attention. "It's time for cake and ice cream," she said, smiling broadly. "Who wants what?"

Castle watched from the dining room threshold as Kate closed the door on the last of their guests. He could hear Jenny giggling out on the front stoop even as Kate turned finally to meet his eyes.

"Hey," she murmured. She looked tired but not exhausted, and he was grateful to see the dark and amused arousal in her glance. She wanted him, and she wasn't too worn out to do something about it.

Best birthday ever.

"Hey," he said back, trying to sound nonchalant. "Thanks for my party."

She hummed as she smiled and stepped closer to him. "You're welcome. You had fun?"

"Yeah," he said, couldn't help the grin. "I like Lanie. She's smart and she's sexy, and she's got Javier trained."

Kate laughed as she hovered a few feet from him. "You didn't call him Javier tonight, did you?"

He grinned even wider. "Not to his face."

"Good man," she murmured, closing the distance between them now.

"She's been a good friend to you," he said softly, sliding his hand to her hip and brushing across the fabric of her dress. She'd put on a simple wrap that accentuated the narrow span of her waist and the curve of her hips, the skirt just above her knees to highlight the forever length of her legs. She looked beautiful and it made him want to hold her.

"And Mitch to you," she added with a little breath.

"I saw you talking with him," he admitted. "He's - about as annoying as what I'd imagine a little brother to be, but he's loyal. He did a lot to help me find you."

"I know," she said quietly. But her eyes weren't tender, they were electric, and he suddenly remembered that she'd said she had another surprise for him after their dinner party.

He placed his other hand at her waist and tugged her closer, letting their hips bump. "Can I open my present now?"

She laughed, but it was throaty and caught somewhere, like she was struggling to remain cool. He didn't care about looking good; he wanted to taste her.

Castle dipped his head to touch his mouth to her neck, licked at the skin as he felt her pulse rushing under his lips. She shivered and her hand came to back, nudging their bodies closer. She tasted like blueberry ice cream.

"You think I'm your present?" she whispered at his jaw.

"Yes."

"Well," she said simply, as if she couldn't deny that. "Not your only present."

He jerked his head back to look at her. "You got me something?"

"Don't look so surprised," she chided with a laugh. "I got you something last year too."

"Yeah, but..." He just didn't know when she'd had time. And somehow it meant more, after Russia. Somehow anything more than having her meant... more.

"But nothing. It's your birthday. I bought it before," she said, a little roll of one of her shoulders like it didn't matter.

Oh. Before Russia. "What did you get me?"

"I hid it upstairs. Come on," she said, her smile growing wider now. She didn't have to tug him along, he was beating her up the stairs even as she laughed at him.

She couldn't help the giggle that burst out of her mouth as Castle stared at her from across their bed.

"You... you.. this is... you got me..." He swallowed and glanced down at the present she'd wrapped ages ago, the present she'd meant to have match the message she'd left for him on the bathroom mirror in eyebrow pencil.

"Yeah, I did," she said. She lifted her hands to the waist of her dress, fiddled with the place where it wrapped. She saw his eyes zone in on the movement of her fingers. "And it kinda fits, right?"

"Right," he rasped, swallowing again. "Fits."

He was watching her like a hawk; she slid the belt of fabric out of the way and let her dress hang open. Castle jerked like a puppet on strings but then he was hauling ass across the room and putting his hands on her, inside the dress so that it began to fall off her shoulders.

His mouth came to her jaw and traced a hot trail back to her ear. "You got me a sex toy, Kate Beckett."

"Rodgers," she breathed, smiling against his cheek. "Kate Beckett Rodgers."

"Rodgers Castle - anything. Anything," he murmured. His hands caressed her hips and slipped in under the waistband of her panties. "You look gorgeous, love."

"You're just saying that because I bought you a sex toy."

"I'm just saying it because you make me want to touch you all over. Because you look so strong and fierce standing in our bedroom with your dress half undone. Because you threw me a make-up birthday party and it was fun."

She felt the hot surge of arousal burn through her at his words, couldn't help pressing her mouth to the corner of his, tasting it when he spoke again.

"Because when you planned all this, you did it for me. I know you don't love having a bunch of people over. And you made my favorite meal even though I'm the cook. And you got dressed up and you wore those sexy heels I love so that you're right here where I can get at you. And all night, you teased me. All night, you made me want you."

"I didn't mean-"

"Yes, you did," he murmured, sounding delighted and yet so dark.

She shivered as his fingers explored her skin. Okay. Maybe she had meant to. A little bit.

"I love you," she said into his mouth, touched her tongue to the seam of his lips.

He opened for her and his kiss matched the slow pace of his hands over her, her dress pooling at her feet now, her skin rippling with goose bumps. His mouth left hers and worked down her throat, stopping at her collarbone to nip and graze, making her hips cant into his, seeking more.

"I love you, too," he said then, his words lost to her skin.

She opened her eyes and saw the stars through the window in their bedroom, the actual stars pressed into the city skyline. She never saw this many stars here, never.

It seemed like a sign.

Kate dragged her hand up his back to grip the nape of his neck, angled his head to meet his mouth in a kiss that said all the rest.

Except one more thing.

She framed her husband's face with her palms and stroked her fingers in his hair as she pulled back, meeting the need in his eyes with her own.

"Kate," he husked.

"Happy Birthday, love."

"Oh, yes," he said, a smile deepening in his face. "Let's play with my toy."