Title: Undercover Surprise

Plot: Castle and Beckett find themselves in an uncomfortable, yet sexy, situation because of a favor for Gates and the boys at another precinct. Undercover at it's best. Will be M for chapter 2.

I always thought Castle and Beckett might need a little 'urging' to open their eyes so here it is.

Disclaimer: Don't own Castle.

1.

It's dark in the nightclub, except for the flashing color of the dance floor lights. The thumping of the music keeps her swaying sensually, one hand in her hair, the other running up her leg seductively, taking the hem of her dress with it as it goes, artfully baring just enough skin to keep Castle's eyes trained on her from the bar while he waits for their drinks. She gets a thrill out of knowing she leaves just enough to the imagination to keep his writer's mind in constant turmoil. Even in the dim light she can see enough to know she's doing a number on him and in turn, the thoughts running through her head are doing a number on her. Dressed in a skimpy red dress that clings to every curve and accentuates her every asset has kept Castle quietly mesmerized for the past hour, well that, along with what she's doing with her body. This is so not what she had planned for this evening. While she's been working diligently to control her ever-growing feelings for Castle all week, putting herself in this situation was not her best-laid plan. And to think, it's all because of Gates…

Beckett's phone chimes, signaling a text message. It's 7:00 on a Saturday night. She's supposed to be off tonight. They had wrapped up their case earlier in the day thanks to Castle's studious attention to detail. Even Gates had to smile a little, although she thought she had covered it before anyone saw. Beckett, of course, caught it, but didn't let on. No need to inflate Castle's ego any more than it already was or to endure an unnecessary glare from Gates.

So, why was the Captain texting her now? Even if she were needed for a case, the call wouldn't come from Gates. The text simply said, 'call me, please.'

What the hell…curiosity getting the best of her she flips open her phone and dials. Two rings and she's greeted with the Cap's clear voice, "Gates here."

"Sir, what's up?"

"Beckett, I have a favor to ask. Of course, you will be compensated over-time pay, as will your team if you agree, but it's up to you."

Trying to control the curiosity in her voice and the arch at her eyebrow, "Ok, so fill me in?"

"The boys down at the 8th are in somewhat of a jam. Their undercover female officer and her partner are out this week and they have an op that must be conducted tonight or their entire case could be set back for an unknown amount of time, while people continue to be hurt. As much as I hate to say it, this will have to include Castle as well, hence the reason I present this as a favor, so before you agree to anything you might want to have a chat with him."

Even more skeptical now, but knowing doing a favor for Gates can only be good for her and Castle, "What exactly does this entail, Sir?"

"They've been trying to get an in with what they feel is a human trafficking ring involving young girls for use in the sex trade. It's apparently being handled through a trendy nightclub, one that's impossible to get into without knowing someone or having a big name. Of course, this is where Castle comes in, making him your escort for the evening. If any of the big wigs on the force use any of their connections they'll be found out in an instant so we need it to look real with no connections to the 8th or the police commissioner. Since you and Castle have ended up with your bright shining faces on page six more than a few times in recent months, and with his connections, you two are the perfect cover."

"Sir, it's not like that, we're not…"

"That's not what I'm asking or insinuating here, Beckett. I need a couple that looks real with the right connections and that's you two. Your page six highlights, true or not, only play into our hands on this one."

An hour later, here they are, dancing a little too closely, sipping a few watered down drinks to keep up appearances while watching their surroundings closely. It appears the action is taking place in a behind-the-scenes area of the club. Getting your name on the list so you can join in is the trick, but everyone knows Castle has connections, not to mention charm. He's been making eyes at and chatting quietly with the bimbo behind the bar for the last 10 minutes and Beckett is losing her grasp on her emotions rapidly, which isn't professional at all. It might be the sudden awareness of her fists clenching tightly at her sides that brought it to her attention, but she's got to get it together, before he gets back preferably. According to the boys at the 8th, getting a ticket to the back means you get invited to a private room where you can then get a view of the 'merchandise' and begin bidding.

Castle approaches, his ticket clutched tightly in his hands, smiling as if he thinks he has done a fine job of playing his part, but something is off. The smile doesn't reach his eyes. He's looking slightly pale and as much as she hopes it's just the lighting playing tricks on her eyes, she's pretty sure that's not the case at all.

"I…ah…got the ticket Beckett, but we need to talk." He pulls at his collar with slightly shaky hands.

Damn, she knew something was off.

"Castle, you're worrying me a little. Tell me what's up." He leans in as if preparing to say something….

Just then a deep voice with a Russian accent reverberates around them as #12 is called, followed shortly after by #19. The colossal guy by the very secure steel door begins ushering people in as they show up with ticket in hand. She can only guess what that ticket cost Castle, but she will make sure Gates reimburses him; after-all she's the reason they are in this mess.

Castle is trying to say something in her ear, but they are being moved forward as a group with each number being called and she can't make out a single word. She can feel the uneasiness rolling off his body in waves and now she's really starting to freak out. What the hell has Gates gotten us into?

"#32"

Castle's body goes rigid. Apparently that's their number, but what is with him? He will blow their cover if he doesn't get it under control. He's usually more at ease in these situations and yet at this moment he is frozen in place, people behind them coming to an abrupt stop as they bump into them. Holding up the line and drawing attention is not something they need right now. The fact he's usually calm and collected in these situations is the reason she allows him to be her backup, meaning his unease tonight is based in something real. Yet even with that, she trusts him with every fiber in her body. She's pretty sure she conveys all that through the look she gives him as he finally begins to relax his big frame enough to move towards the door. Hearing the deep baritone voice continue to call out numbers means the clock is quickly ticking towards show time.

As they step through the solid steel door leading to the back they are escorted to another door with a number on it, matching the ticket still clutched in Castle's hand. Beckett notices his knuckles are now white around the ticket, but all thought is lost as they enter the private room and her eyes go wide. It's quite lavish for a nightclub, even one as nice as this one. The lighting is low, candles are burning, there's plush carpet under their feet and a fruit plate on the small, but elegant table. Completing the ambiance is the champagne chaser to the side, but the numbered keypad doesn't go unnoticed, which is apparently their method of bidding. She knows they have to make at least one winning bid in order to get invited down to the floor area and make their move. On the back wall there's a curtain covering what appears to be a window, obviously this opens to the viewing area, giving a spectacle as the bidding commences, but none of that is what places the look of utter shock on Beckett's face. In the middle of the room is a bed, yes a bed. A very nice one, but a bed none-the-less. As the door is closed behind them with a thud, wide eyes glazed with pure fear and concern whip to Castle's, only to find the same look mirrored back at her. Her mouth moves, but nothing comes out for a moment. Finally a little squeak of "why" is uttered. Castle leans in, placing his mouth right at the soft arch of Beckett's right ear, sending a little shiver down her spine. In a hushed whisper, no doubt because he has no idea who might be listening, "Beckett, I figured out the reason for the private rooms." As he continues to speak, Beckett's eyes grow wider by the second, causing her brows to meet her hairline. "Apparently, in between the bidding periods you are expected to keep the scum in charge entertained, basically by keeping yourselves 'entertained'." Now it's Beckett's color that fades from her face as everything suddenly falls into place. His look of utter fear, the white knuckle grasp, the sweating…aw, hell.

This little piece of information wasn't exactly shared initially and now they find themselves approaching a serious crossroad in their relationship. Beckett's mind is racing a mile a minute. The only possible way to change the evening's events is for Castle to go it alone as they will only allow men into the bidding area, preferably with a woman on their arm to increase the show value, but a woman alone is not invited, ever. Her being the cop, leaving Castle alone is obviously out of the question. Can she really ask this of him? For him to go through with this? To make matters worse, Beckett has a camera, complete with microphone, in the middle button of her dress, meaning the boys at the 8th, as well as her boys, will have a front row seat to anything they do. She doesn't think that fact has yet registered in Castle's already disquieted mind. This was such a bad idea and Gates is so not at the top of her Christmas list right now. She better not find out she knew this extra little tidbit of information and conveniently forgot to mention it. Hearing this case was centered around young girls in trouble, she barely hesitated to call Castle, but that was before she was privy to all the details. Details, which Gates, the boys at the 8th, someone effectively left out.

In a hushed tone in case the aforementioned scum is listening, "Castle, we need to talk."