Work Text:
Beckett’s in the kitchen of her apartment, TV on in the background. She had been flipping through channels to find something to watch while in the kitchen, but had given up pretty quickly. The movie that was on was some sort of comedy, but it had mostly faded into background noise.
It’s not often that she cooks for herself anymore. When you live alone and you’re the only one who’s going to eat it, why bother? Ordering takeout was so much simpler. But tonight, she needed a distraction, something to do with her hands. She picked up the chef’s knife. This bell pepper needed to die.
Castle was a good kisser. It figured, given all the practice he must have had. A great kisser, in fact.
A passionate kisser.
She figured that was one of the things she liked about him, his passion. He was always interested in what was going on, always ready with an elaborate theory that held his precinct audience captive in fiction for a few moments before the snap back to reality. She liked the way his eyes lit up, imagining things none of them could see.
He had brought so much humor to precinct life that hadn’t been there before. It made the depressing nature of her job so much easier to deal with.
The knife split the skin of the pepper, separating it easily into thin slices. If–hypothetically–they became investigative partners, they would make a good team. She’d be lying to herself if she denied ever wondering what it might be like to be his partner…beyond the professional sense. But she also had zero interest in being swept up in all the drama that made up the life and personality of Richard Castle.
Until yesterday…when his lips met hers as part of a desperate ruse, one which neither of them held any illusion about. He’d put his hand on her cheek and kissed her, and after her shock she had reciprocated, if only to continue the act long enough to make it out of their situation unscathed.
She wasn’t yet willing to admit it to herself, but she had given more than just an act. A tiny part of her relished this chance she’d likely never have again.
If she got another opportunity, would she take it? If Castle walked through her kitchen doorway right now, she didn’t know what she would do. With that lopsided, idiot, knowing smile-
A stinging sensation ripped Beckett out of her reverie.
“Shit,” she cursed, bringing her finger to her mouth. She’d been so distracted she’d cut herself. On cue, a laugh track played from the TV. “Yeah, yeah,” she griped, hitting the power button on her way to the sink. She ran her finger under cold water and sighed at her silly little brain.
Maybe takeout was a better idea after all.