two times Richard Castle might have taken care of Kate Beckett (and one time he actually did) | Castle; Castle/Beckett | 1,970 words | g
This is a birthday gift for my beautiful
effie214!
(Oh, Ef. This is easily the most pointless story I have ever written. *shakes head* Please forgive me for the complete and utter lack of depth, or you know, point. I hope you enjoy!)
It could happen like this:
There's been a nasty cold going around in the precinct, almost everyone's had it by now.
Beckett begins to cough a little too frequently just after lunch and Castle looks at her worryingly. (It probably doesn't help that she got drenched in pursuit of a suspect only two hours earlier.)
When the coughing persists Montgomery tells her to to take the rest of the day off.
“I'm fine Captain, really,” she says and goes straight back to her desk.
“Castle,” Montgomery motions for him. “Take her home, okay? I can't have my best detective sick on the job. Do not let her talk you into leaving unless she's going to stay in bed. Understood?”
“Understood sir,” he says.
-
When he finally gets her home, with much grumbling from her and her insistence that she still drive, she stalls at her door and says a short 'Thanks,' turning her back on him as she fits her key into the lock.
“I'm coming in,” he tells her.
“No you're not.”
“Yes I am,” he insists. “You're sick; I've gotta make sure you're actually going to take care of yourself.”
“Castle,” she breathes through gritted teeth, “I'm not twelve. I can take care of myself.”
“Oh I don't doubt that you can, detective. What I doubt is that you will. So I'm just gonna come in, make sure you've got all that you need and then, when I'm satisfied that you're properly resting up, I'll leave,” he says decisively as he gently ushers her inside.
Once inside Beckett heads straight for her bedroom, calling over her shoulder “I'm getting changed - and no, I don't need any help.”
He grins. She knows him too well by now. He busies himself looking through her fridge and cupboards and when she returns, wearing sweats and singlet (a singlet, he notes, that shows off the smooth skin of her shoulders in a way that makes him swallow uncomfortably) he's just putting a sandwich down on her coffee table.
“What's this?” she asks him, gesturing at the steaming mug in his hands.
“Hot lemon and honey drink,” he answers, setting it down in front of her.
“I'm not drinking that.”
“But it'll make you feel better!” he exclaims, with a hurt look on his face. “Alexis swears by it. I make it for her every time she has a cold.”
Beckett sighs, “Fine, fine, I'll drink it.” She takes a sip, makes a face (that he finds adorable, for the record), and says “Happy now?”
“Yes,” he smiles at her. “You need anything else?”
“I'm fine Castle. I'm going to eat my sandwich and take a nap.”
“And drink the honey lemon drink,” he adds seriously.
“Of course,” she sighs. “That too. Now really, I'm fine and I'm sure you have better things to do.”
“Not really,” he begins to say, but sees the pointed look she's giving him and takes his cue. “You call me if you need anything. Anything at all,” he emphasises and she can't help but smile a little at him.
“Okay.”
He closes the door behind him and she curls up on the couch, closing her eyes. She'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone caring for you. It's been a long time.
She's almost asleep when her phone buzzes with a text from Castle. “Of course”, she thinks.
Sleep well. And you better have drunk that whole mug.
She laughs and goes to sleep with a smile on her face.
*
Or, it could happen like this:
Castle doesn't get a call from her; there's no murder today it would seem. But after an hour of pottering around his apartment, barely even pretending that he's going to get any writing done, he decides to just head into the precinct anyway. He's sure he can be of use somehow.
Her desk is empty when he arrives and he wonders if she's out on a case. And if so why she didn't call him. He's pondering that potentially hurtful action when Ryan wanders over to him with raised eyebrows.
“Watcha doing here Castle?”
“Looking for Beckett,” he says, still distracted.
“Dude,” Esposito chimes in, “she's not here. She called in sick.”
“Well, is she okay?” he asks, and already there's panic in his voice and he knows they're gonna make fun of him for it later
“Yeah she's fine bro, just some sorta stomach bug.”
“Oh, okay. So - I guess I'll just go home then,” he tells them and he sees the look that passes between them, a sort of 'uh huh, sure,'
But of course he doesn't go home. Half an hour later he's knocking on Beckett's door.
“Castle? What the hell are you doing here?” she answers the door, pale and shaky in sweats and a t-shirt.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says with a hopeful smile.
She rolls her eyes at him. “I've got a stomach bug, I'm not dying Castle.”
“Is there anything you need?”
“I need to sit down, so either come in or go away,” she says, turning and walking back to her couch where she lays back down and pulls a blanket up over her.
He loiters awkwardly in the door, not entirely sure whether that was an actual invitation or not, but in the end decides it would be downright stupid not to take advantage of this opportunity, so steps in and closes the door the door behind him.
She's sitting on her couch, head in her hands and he rushes straight to her, “Hey are you ok?” he kneels in front of her.
“Just dizzy,” she tells him.
He gently pulls her hands from her head and guides her so that she's lying down.
“Thanks,” she mumbles as he strokes her forehead gently.
“I'll get you some water,” he says quietly but as he tries to stand she grips his wrist tightly and shakes her head slightly.
“I'm fine. Just stay and talk to me. Your voice seems to be driving the dizziness way - which is weird since it usually has the opposite effect.”
He laughs, “Oh you wound me.”
“It's my right, I'm sick,” she jokes back, opening her eyes briefly and offering him a lazy wink and he can't help but think that she manages to be completely adorable even when sick.
He pulls a blanket over her and settles his back against the couch. “Wanna hear the scene I just wrote for Nikki and Rook?” he asks cheerfully.
“Not really,” she mumbles in reply, “but if it'll make you happy.”
“Okay so, I was thinking it'd be great if they got trapped in some kind of industrial freezer cos they'd have to find a way to stay warm - if you know what I mean.”
He's expecting to her to hit him or tell him what an ass he is but there's just silence.
She's asleep.
*
But actually, it happens like this.
“ - Okay, yeah, I'll take care of her. Thanks Roy.”
He hangs up the phone and turns back to the bed, only to find Beckett sitting up and glaring at him.
“Castle. Did you call in sick for me?” she asks, all steely eyed and hard voice.
“Uh huh,” he says, cheerily. “You need to rest.”
She throws her pillow at him, mumbling under breath, “jackass,” and then falls back to the bed with an unsatisfying whump as her head hits the mattress. She lets out a frustrated grunt and then, “Give me back my pillow, right now.”
He has it back under her head within ten seconds and takes the opportunity to brush her hair back from her face at the same time.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Don't think that being all sweet and caring is going to make me forget that you called in sick for me. You will not be forgiven for that.”
“I know,” he tells her, eyes twinkling. “But I'm still gonna take care of you.”
She rolls her eyes at him, but he detects just the tiniest trace of a smile on her face.“Ugh, fine. Get back into bed then,” she concedes. “If I have to be sick, I'm damn well going to be comfortable,” and she pulls his arms around her and closes her eyes again.
-
When she wakes he's no longer there curled around her and she sighs in frustration, pulling the sheets aside and dragging herself to her feet.
She finds him in his study, feet on the desk and computer in his lap.
“Hey,” he says, putting his computer back on the desk, “You're supposed to be in bed.”
“So are you,” she pouts and despite how well he knows her, he can't quite tell if she's serious or not.
(He's begun to suspect she's been deliberately been holding onto the last vestiges of her poker face just so she can still keep him on his toes every now and again.)
“I didn't think you'd miss me,” he says, standing and walking over to her as she leans against his doorframe. He presses the back of his hand to her forehead - to check her temperature - but she slaps it in a way in exasperation, “Would you quit that.”
“No, I won't,” he tells her with a quirk of his lips. “I told you, I'm taking care of you.”
“No, you were working. Or pretending to work,” she retorts.
Castle wraps his arms around her, kissing her on the forehead gently. “Come on grumpy, why don't we get you settled on the couch and I'll make you some hot chocolate or something.”
“Pass on the hot chocolate. But I'll take you up on the couch offer,” she says, stifling a yawn as she makes her way into the living room with Castle close behind her.
She waits for him to sit down and then lies her head in his lap while he plays with her hair.
“Do you want me to put on a movie or something?” he asks her.
“Nah I'm good,” she sighs happily. “So what were you working on in there? I thought you'd finished the manuscript for the last Nikki Heat book?”
“I'm having trouble with the ending,” he confesses.
“How come?” she asks, fingers stroking his knee lazily.
“I dunno. I want to give them a happy ending but I just haven't been able to make it feel right yet.”
She reaches for his hand, pulling to her lips. “You'll get it right. You're good at happy endings.”
“They're easier to live than write,” he muses but her eyes are closed now and she's still holding onto his hand.
-
When Alexis gets home Beckett is still fast asleep in Castle's lap.
“Hey dad,” she whispers, smiling at the scene before her. “Did she kill you for calling in sick for her?”
“She tried,” he laughs, “but I think she secretly likes being taken care of. She certainly seems to like using my lap as a pillow at any rate.”
“Do not,” Kate mumbles.
(But later when he slides into bed beside her she wraps her arms around him and presses a kiss to his chest. “Thank you for taking care of me,” she whispers.
He smiles into her hair. “Always,” he tells her.)