justdidntseeit | [[ france ]]

"M'up, m' -- thanks."

She wraps an arm around Beckett's waist, leaning into Beckett's side when the hallway tilts.

Resting her head on Beckett's shoulder, her eyes fall to Bill.

"No skunks here."

Turning her cheek to nuzzle the curve of Beckett's silk-soft neck, she breathes deep.

"Just cherries."

With a lazy smile, she extends her free hand to Bill.

He's content to sit on the floor for a bit, grinning ear to ear.

"Cherries?"

He looks up at Kate, and blinks blearily at her hand.

"I don't smell cherries."

Reaching up, he takes her hand and stands, unsteady and laughing again. When he's on his feet he lifts her palm to his nose and gives it a sniff.

"Think sh'means me," Beckett offers helpfully.

In the back of her mind, the part that's still relatively coherent, it might occur to her then that Castle had said something similar the other day.

But she's not exactly accessing that part as she slings an arm around Kate's shoulders, ready to help keep her upright if she needs to.

"I smell like me," she says with a laugh.

Like oranges from her favorite shampoo, and traces of the pineapple soap she picked up at a local shop the other day still cling to her skin, sweet and light, from her morning shower.

"S'Kate -- "

Her eyes widen with sudden concern and she takes a half-step backward, into the solid line of Bill's body, and tugs Beckett with her.

"Kate, 're you having a good time? This is s'pposed to be your vacation from vampires and too much work -- we talked about it, Bill and I, we agreed -- but I took all your money and made you fall down."

Her eyes search Beckett's face, and a fingertip unconsciously traces the delicate chain at the ridge of Beckett's collarbone.

Edited 2009-11-04 18:41 (UTC)

"Y'smell good," He says, and sniffs again before letting Kate's hand go.

When she bumps into him his arm wraps around her waist and he steps closer. His chin rests on Kate's shoulder and he smiles at Beckett.

"She's havin' a good time, ain't ya, detective?"

Her center of gravity isn't quite what it normally is; Kate tugging her along sends her stumbling forward with a few awkward, stuttered steps, and she braces her hand against Kate's hip - her fingers splayed open, the blunts of her nails ghosting over Bill's side when he, in turn, pulls Kate against him.

"Not real vampires." She's first to correct that one, but her smile is easy as her head lolls to the side, studying them both from that angle.

"O'course," Beckett insists, one foot idly turning inward when her other hand reaches over to tuck a few blonde strands of hair behind Kate's ear - knuckles brushing against Bill's jawline.

"Best vacation-time ever."

"Good -- s'what we wanted."

Cheek turning into the touch, her smile softens as her eyes slip closed. One steadying hand tightens on Beckett's hip, and her other hand slides down, fingers trailing along the chain while the heel of her hand comes to rest just above the swell of Beckett's breast.

Skin tingling with wine and warmth, she leaning back against Bill, tilting her head to brush the underside of his jaw with an open-mouthed kiss.

"What about you? Enjoying yourself?"

"Hm." He murmurs and his jaw tilts first at Beckett's light touch, then more when Kate's mouth closes on his skin.

"Yep, sure am."

His eyes close and his arm around Kate tightens. He sways a bit, brushing Beckett with his bare arm.

"What about you, Miss Poker Champ, you like beatin' our pants off at the table?"

He laughs and brushes his leg against hers to show he means literally.

Beckett lowers her hand, unconsciously touching her mother's ring, which dangles low between her breasts.

Her fingertips brush over Kate's hand as she does so.

"'Least you weren't wearing anything embarrassing underneath," she points out.

"Mm-hmm."

Kate breathes a chuckle and opens her eyes, Beckett's hand and the ring coming into slow focus.

"I'm out of pants, too."

Her thumb ghosts over Beckett's knuckles while her lips hover over Bill's pulse.

"And we could've made your underwear disappear, sheriff -- but we didn't, 'cause we're nice."

"Y'didn't lose your shirt, though," He points out.

His throat works with another soft murmur, and he curls his fingers into the thin fabric of her top.

"'Preciate y'all bein' s'nice. M'pretty lousy at cards."

Beckett wrinkles her nose slightly.

"S'different," she adds, but she's not about to debate the finer points of the obvious differences between men and women.

"Doesn't matter; I should go to bed."

Instead of debating, she leans in, her hand nudging up under Kate's chin right around the time she attempts to kiss her temple by way of saying goodnight.

"Could give you a con-consolation prize for being such a good loser, y'kno-- "

Her head turns at Beckett's touch and she isn't expecting to meet Beckett's mouth; with a soft, surprised murmur, her hand slides up Beckett's torso to the detective's neck.

"I like consolation prizes," He says with a smirk.

His eyes open when Kate's mouth leaves his throat, and he turns his head to pout and complain. What he sees when he looks at Kate and Beckett makes his eyes widen and mouth fall open.

Somewhere in his wine fogged brain he knows it could be just the angle, or maybe wishful, drinken hallucinations, but it looks to him like Kate is kissing Beckett.

It leaves him speechless; not knowing what to say, and not wanting to break the moment, true or not.

By no means is it what Beckett had originally intended when she'd moved in, hovering in their space but not really making any quick motions to duck away.

Her hand awkwardly attempts to find purchase somewhere, settling for a loose grasp around Kate's wrist, her thumb brushing over the pulse that flutters along the inside where the skin is thinnest. Beckett's eyes are closed, but she can still picture it - almost translucent, blue veins threading together and apart.

Her other hand uses Kate's hip to steady herself, the scent of citrus and the press of Kate's mouth against hers a dizzying combination.

She breaks away after a moment, blinking slowly.

Blood rushes too fast under Kate's skin as her free hand wanders to the small of Beckett's back. Half-dizzy with sensation and the smell of cherries filling her nose, she's grateful for Bill behind her.

When she opens her eyes, she swallows and licks her lips, cheeks flushing darker.

"I -- "

On some level, she thinks she should apologize, but that felt more like an accident than a mistake; Beckett's still so close and Kate's fingers are threading into her hair at the base of her skull, tentative and featherlight.

"Was that okay?"

Her eyes leave Beckett's so she can chance a look at Bill.

When they break and Kate looks at him he knows that he saw what he thought he did.

He's never been turned on so fast, and it shows; in his eyes, the way his mouth is still slightly hanging open, and the rising in his boxer shorts.

He quirks a smile at Kate, eyes darting towards Beckett, and still doesn't know what the hell to say.

Beckett's still a little breathless from it all, and barely manages a laugh, gripping onto Kate's wrist like it's some kind of lifeline keeping her from drifting away.

"S'fine," she promises, even leaning her head into Kate's touch as she feels fingertips kneading along her hairline, "but if I don't lay down soon, m'liable to tip over."

She doesn't exactly back away, though.

Edited 2009-11-05 03:47 (UTC)

Something shifts, imperceptible but not, though none of them has moved.

Wine and want and Beckett's grip and the press of Bill's burgeoning erection against the curve of her ass overload her synapses and rational thought; she takes an unsteady breath and a chuckle catches low in her throat.

"Then we should get you in bed."

Her fingers flex at Beckett's scalp in a gentle massage, and she arches her body against Bill's.

"What d'you think, sweetheart?"

He's not thinking anymore, not with his head, anyways. When Kate rubs against him his hips arch back and he nods almost on auto-pilot.

"Yeah."

His voice is low; his eyes wander over Kate and Beckett, and he can feel want and alcohol running hot and fast through his veins.

The feel of Kate's hand in her hair has practically reduced her legs to jelly, anyway, and she sucks her lower lip into her mouth, tasting remnants of the alcohol and something else, unidentifiable at first.

They're past the stairs now, at least; even in her wine-soaked haze, she still remembers the direction the bedrooms are in.

Reluctantly, she pulls back, if only temporarily, to head that way.

The trip to the bedroom Bill and Kate are sharing takes too much time but none at all, the seconds warped by wine and the nervous excitement rushing in Kate's bloodstream. Body humming with it, she can't resist planting a teasing, open-mouthed kiss on the bare curve of Beckett's shoulder while Beckett fumbles with the doorknob, or letting the flat of her palm travel down Bill's torso until she's cupping him through his boxers.

When the door opens, she follows Beckett inside and crosses the room to flick on a low-burning lamp, half-stumbling over a pair of her running shoes with a quiet giggle in the process.

He stays close to Kate as they follow after Beckett, playing his fingertips lightly along her side and letting out a low pleased murmur when she touches him low and teasing.

When Kate goes to turn on the light he's left beside Beckett. Looking at her, he leans in a bit and grins.

"Y'do smell like cherries."

She chuckles softly, and even as she goes to gently prod him in the chest with her index finger, it's completely unintentional when her hand lingers there, other four fingers joining in to rest briefly.

"Didn't think you'd gotten close enough to tell," she murmurs.

(Maybe not completely unintentional.)

Mission accomplished, Kate crosses the airy room and rejoins them near the bed, stepping behind Beckett and running a fingertip down Beckett's spine.

Her hands settle on Beckett's hips and she playfully nudges Beckett closer to Bill.

"S'okay," she says, her lips brushing Beckett's ear; she's reassuring both of them and herself. "We're all sharing."

Eyes flicking to Bill, she smiles before turning her attention to the side of Beckett's neck.

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