xfirefly9x (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
xfirefly9x) wrote2009-05-27 04:21 am
xfirefly9x) wrote2009-05-27 04:21 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Weapons Of Choice (Rick/Kate)
Title: Weapons Of Choice
Fandom: Castle
Characters: Rick/Kate
Prompt: #008 Spotless
Word Count: 411
Rating: PG-17 (suggestive themes)
Summary: “I want this room to be spotless by the time I get back,” Kate says.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_prompts and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
janetmaca. May 26. A sequel may be possible for this one. ;D
“I want this room to be spotless by the time I get back,” Kate says. She challenges him with a stare that sets off a myriad of torture methods being played out in his mind. Most of them are unpleasant – he cringes at the thought of them – but others... others, he’d be very grateful to fall victim to. Especially that last scene, with the rope and chair and his pants nowhere in sight.
There’s a teasing undertone as he replies. “And if it’s not?” It’s a big room. There must be a dozen or more desks arranged into partitions for the cops to sit at. Papers and books and files are on every surface and the empty fast food containers and half-filled coffee mugs are numerous. Confetti and balloons – his weapons of choice – are the only things that are out of place in the precinct.
Her lips twist into the unique half smile, half smirk that belongs to her alone. It’s a look he’s come to adore, though he prefers it when she sucks her lip into her mouth and watches him. It’s hot. It makes his head and his heart spin until he’s so dizzy and so giddy he’s sure he’ll fall. Truth is he’s been falling from the very moment she stepped up to him, waving her badge in his face and asking to question him about the murder that began their partnership.
She takes a step forwards, leans in close and whispers, “you’ll wish you never met me.” Her breath is warm on his neck and intimate. Very intimate. He suppresses the urge to shiver.
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm,” she agrees. “No one throws me a surprise party and gets away clean.”
He offers a sheepish grin and shrugs. “You know me.”
She shakes her head, rolls her eyes and pulls her jacket on. One arm and then the next is covered in leather; his mind returns to his earlier pondering over torture methods and he can taste the drool forming in his mouth when he realizes she’s leaving. She doesn’t say goodbye or wave to him but he catches the smile on her face as she moves through the door.
“Yep,” he says. “This room is going to be so spotless when she gets back that she won’t know what hit her.” He retrieves his cell from his pocket, settles back in her chair with his shoes propped up on her desk and dials a cleaning service.
Fandom: Castle
Characters: Rick/Kate
Prompt: #008 Spotless
Word Count: 411
Rating: PG-17 (suggestive themes)
Summary: “I want this room to be spotless by the time I get back,” Kate says.
Notes: Written for
10_prompts and janetmaca. May 26. A sequel may be possible for this one. ;D“I want this room to be spotless by the time I get back,” Kate says. She challenges him with a stare that sets off a myriad of torture methods being played out in his mind. Most of them are unpleasant – he cringes at the thought of them – but others... others, he’d be very grateful to fall victim to. Especially that last scene, with the rope and chair and his pants nowhere in sight.
There’s a teasing undertone as he replies. “And if it’s not?” It’s a big room. There must be a dozen or more desks arranged into partitions for the cops to sit at. Papers and books and files are on every surface and the empty fast food containers and half-filled coffee mugs are numerous. Confetti and balloons – his weapons of choice – are the only things that are out of place in the precinct.
Her lips twist into the unique half smile, half smirk that belongs to her alone. It’s a look he’s come to adore, though he prefers it when she sucks her lip into her mouth and watches him. It’s hot. It makes his head and his heart spin until he’s so dizzy and so giddy he’s sure he’ll fall. Truth is he’s been falling from the very moment she stepped up to him, waving her badge in his face and asking to question him about the murder that began their partnership.
She takes a step forwards, leans in close and whispers, “you’ll wish you never met me.” Her breath is warm on his neck and intimate. Very intimate. He suppresses the urge to shiver.
“Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm,” she agrees. “No one throws me a surprise party and gets away clean.”
He offers a sheepish grin and shrugs. “You know me.”
She shakes her head, rolls her eyes and pulls her jacket on. One arm and then the next is covered in leather; his mind returns to his earlier pondering over torture methods and he can taste the drool forming in his mouth when he realizes she’s leaving. She doesn’t say goodbye or wave to him but he catches the smile on her face as she moves through the door.
“Yep,” he says. “This room is going to be so spotless when she gets back that she won’t know what hit her.” He retrieves his cell from his pocket, settles back in her chair with his shoes propped up on her desk and dials a cleaning service.