Title: Hamptons Hotseat

Author: mindy35

Rating: T, incidental sexy stuff

Disclaimer: Not mine, no moolah made.

Spoilers: minor for "Flowers for Your Grave", "Always Buy Retail", "A Rose for Everafter", "A Deadly Game", "Always", "Murder He Wrote".

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Summary: Post-ep for "Murder He Wrote". Beckett wants answers about Castle's women.

-x-x-x-

Castle is snoring. Softly, contentedly, his entire body splayed and slack in his post-coital haze. It's not the noise emanating from her man that's keeping her awake though. It's the noise in her own head. It's the muddle of unanswered questions that have plagued her unconscious not just during the quieter moments of their getaway but since the day she encountered her favorite author on a case and felt that initial pull of attraction right down deep in her gut. Beckett reaches out a hand – and retracts it for the fourth time. Then, reminding herself of their imminent departure, she takes a breath and decides that this time, she's going to get answers.

She pokes his shoulder. "Hey." She pokes it again. "Hey. Wake up."

Castle's snoring hitches, "…wha…?" then suspends.

"I need answers," she says, shifting back on the bed, some sheet clutched to her chest.

Castle cracks his eyes and lifts his head, seemingly confused by the fact that she is clothed and sitting at the foot of the bed instead of naked and curled in his arms where he left her. "…What?"

"I need hard facts here, Castle." She slices a hand through the air and steels her spine. "I need to know exactly how many women you've made love with in this bed."

His eyes narrow at her, his brow creased with dozy incredulity. "What?"

She whacks his thigh with the back of her hand. "Stop saying what and answer me. How many—"

"Wommmeeennn," he yawns loudly, "have I…"

"Made love with—"

"In this bed?"

"In this bed," she confirms with a nod.

He levers up onto his elbows, blinking the sleep from his eyes and focusing on her more fully. His mind is clearly still playing catch-up, unsure exactly how they got from where they were to where they are. He rubs an eye with the heel of his hand and mumbles sluggishly, "And we have to discuss this now, do we?"

Beckett tips up her chin. "We do."

"Okaaay…" Castle huffs and hauls himself upright, slumping back against the headboard. "Well. Let's see now…" He studies the ceiling for several beats, tapping two fingers against his lips.

Her patience for his games rapidly wears thin. "Castle—"

"Shh." He lifts a finger from his mouth. "I'm counting."

She rolls her eyes then trains them on him, the warning glinting in their depths perceptible even in the fading candlelight. "Don't let the negligee fool you, I will hurt you."

His gaze falls from the ceiling to her. "One."

"One what?" she demands with a mini head-shake.

A smile plays around his lips before he states, low and slow and even, "I have made love with one woman in this bed."

Her lips press into a pout, her eyes cut to one side. "One…other than me?"

"One," he says, drawing in a breath, "including you."

"What, is it a new bed?" she mutters, brows raised. "D'you redecorate in here as well?"

Castle sits up, scooting a bit closer and crossing his legs beneath the covers. "Kate, I'm a writer, I make my living with words."

Beckett shrugs. "So?"

"So I am very particular about them. And you asked me how many women I have made love with in this bed, not how many women I've slept with."

"If you're going to be pedantic about word choice, you might as well drop the euphemism."

"Fine." He lowers his head in a slow nod then lifts it again and looks at her straight. "If you are asking how many women I've had sexual relations with here then, I admit, that number would be higher. But as indiscriminate as you may think me when it comes to women, I do make this very important distinction."

"But…" she glances about the bedroom, blinking in confusion, "you brought Gina up here. Your second wife."

"Second ex-wife," he corrects before adding in a rueful mumble, "And revisiting that relationship would hardly count as the smartest thing I've ever done."

"Even so," she insists, gesturing at the bed beneath them, "you're trying to tell me you two didn't make love while you were here?"

He runs a hand through his hair, eyes dropping to the mattress. "We…had sex, yes. But Gina and my sexlife was never anything but…fraught. To say the least. In bed was never where we connected best. Being here with her only reminded me of that."

She studies him a moment, her grip on the sheet loosening. "What about the Deep-Fried Twinkie then?"

Castle sighs and lies down, stretching crossways on the bed with his hands behind his head. "This place was after her time. And frankly, a little low-key for Meredith's taste."

"So you never made love to her here," she says, tone careful but curious, "but she was your wife, Castle. You must have made love to her at some point."

He gazes up at her briefly then shakes his head, expelling a low laugh. "If you really want to talk about this then, yes. Sex was a major part of my relationship with Meredith. But…if I'm being honest—?"

"Yes please," she mumbles with a wry half-smile.

"Well…" Castle clears his throat and reaches for her hand, regarding it thoughtfully before weaving his fingers with hers, "if I'm being completely honest then…looking back, I'd say I've only ever made love with two women in my entire life. Neither of which, ironically enough, were the women I married."

Beckett is silent, brow crumpled as her mind scans their history and comes up with one name. "Kyra."

Castle nods, eyes fixed on her face, "Who I loved as a young man. And now Kate," his eyes lower to their interwoven hands, "who I love as a more mature man."

"Well…" she tilts her head, lips curling into a gentle smile, "the mature part's debatable."

"Granted," he murmurs and draws her hand towards him. He waits until she submits to his unspoken entreaty – letting the sheet fall from her chest as she stretches out beside him – then he goes on, his hand pressing hers flat over his heart. "There was a long gap and a lot of mistakes in between. Some of which I wish I could take back."

She props her head in her other hand and shoots him a quizzical look. "You do?"

"Of course I do. But I can't." He rolls onto his side to face her, telling her with a tinge of urgency to his tone, "The past is the past, Kate. Right or wrong, it happened and I can't change that. I can only tell you this." He shifts closer, one hand slipping over her satin-clad hip and meandering upwards as he speaks. "All those years in between loves, all those casual or fraught relationships and all that meaningless sex did teach me one thing. It taught me to sit up and take note when something special came along. Something different. Something more." His gaze meets hers as his wandering palm reaches the crest of her shoulder. He brushes away her hair with aching slowness then curls his hand around her exposed neck, leaning close enough that her lips part in expectation of a kiss. It never comes. Their mouths remain inches apart as his forehead bows and kisses hers instead. "Something more happens when I'm with you. Something special happens when you touch me and when I touch you. Something so incredible happens when we are together and it can only happen if both people feel it. So I know you know what I'm talking about, I know you feel it too." He pulls back, she can feel his gaze raking over her face, but it's only after her eyes flutter open and find his that he continues. "Don't doubt that I do. You were a long time coming for me, Kate. And you made me wait for it, work for it." He smirks very slightly and leans in to give her lower lip the tiniest of affectionate nips. "Since you're the love of my life though, I guess I'll have to forgive you for not coming along and claiming me sooner."

"Then…" she lifts a hand to his face, caressing his stubbled jaw with the tips of her fingers, "I guess I'll have to forgive you too, for amusing yourself in the meantime."

He nods, eyes glowing at her. "I'd appreciate that."

"Hope it was worth waiting for," she adds, leaning in to give his top lip a much more lingering nip.

He returns her kiss, murmuring huskily against her lips, "You were." He kisses one corner of her mouth, "Are," followed by the opposite corner, "Always will be." Then he draws back and looks at her, one hand cupping her face. "Now – can we please go back to sleep? I need to get some decent shut-eye if I am going to wake up early and ravish you before we leave."

Beckett smiles, nods and lets herself be guided back into the position they fell asleep in. With Castle on his back, she curls herself into his side, one cheek resting on his bare chest and one arm flung across his warm, broad body. "I don't want to leave," she admits as they settle.

He kisses her hair and strokes her back. "Neither do I. But sadly, your other love awaits."

"My what?"

"The precinct."

She laughs softly. "Is that how you think of it?"

Castle gives a dark, envious moan. "On a daily basis, I quash the rampant jealousy I feel over the fact that you are married to your work. Mostly because I hope that sometime in the future you might show me…a similar sort of commitment."

She smiles against his skin but doesn't look up. "Exactly what sort of commitment are we talking about, Mr Castle?"

She feels his shrug, senses him selecting his words very carefully as his fingertips continue to trace the line of her spine. "I just think it would be an interesting experiment," he answers eventually, "to marry a woman I was actually in love with."

"That would be interesting," she muses, one palm skating over the familiar territory of his chest. "Especially if she was in love with you too."

"Right?" He gives a wistful sigh, his body rising and falling beneath her cheek, his voice rumbling in his chest. "It wouldn't be about property or book deals or pre-nups. It would just be about two people who can't get enough of each other."

"Mm." Beckett budges closer, slipping one leg over his. "Sounds nice."

"Doesn't it…?"

There's a lengthy silence in which she's certain Castle's imagination is taking this rather appealing hypothetical and mentally running with it, expanding on the not-too-distant possibilities with his typically limitless enthusiasm. His breath begins to lengthen as he drifts somewhere between this waking dream and actual sleep. She glances up to see his lips forming a small smile and his eyes closed, his lashes long and shadowed on his cheeks. Beckett thinks she could probably sleep now. Her mind is less troubled. But there is one more thing she feels compelled to clarify.

"Castle?"

"Hmm?"

She rises onto one elbow to look at him, struggling for a moment to find the words to express what's been stirring in her since stepping out of his car and setting eyes on his glorious Hamptons hideaway. "I love this place, I do. It's stunning and so…you. But I want you to know that I would still want to be with you even if you were penniless and homeless."

"That's good," he replies, blinking up at her with suddenly wide-awake eyes. "Because at the rate my mother spends my pennies, it's a distinct possibility I'm gonna need a place to stay in the future. And since my only other option is living in my daughter's dorm, in the event of my ruin I plan on moving in with you."

Beckett nods cautiously, stifling her smile. "That…is another future possibility I'm…open to exploring."

He grins and pulls her in for a quick kiss. "I gotta say I am liking the sound of the future more and more."

"Well, here's something else for you to look forward to." Beckett straddles him, leaning in for another kiss, this time with added tongue. Rarely does she confine herself to the same moves or positions in bed but since this one received such a rousing reception the first time, she feels it's worth repeating. "Because," she continues after completing their kiss, "the next time we come up here, I plan on making love to you in or on every square inch of this place."

Castle's face instantly lights up, his brows leaping with lascivious interest. "Inde-ed? Like where?"

She gives a lilting hum, hands scaling his chest. "In the pool, to start with."

"I'll remember not to pack my trunks," he rasps, hands finding her spread thighs. "Where else?"

She quirks a brow at him, bites his chin. "On the beach might be nice."

"That sounds rather sandy." His hands slide beneath the hem of her negligee. "Then where?"

"In that gorgeous kitchen," she whispers, kissing his neck with an open mouth. "Me on the counter and you between my legs."

"That sounds…" Castle moans and squeezes her ass, "delicious. And then?"

She gives his shoulder a kiss, "In the wine cellar," then his bicep, "Under the gazebo," then one nipple, "On the staircase."

"That last one sounds kind of dangerous," he mumbles breathily.

"Then you on top, on the couch."

"Which one?"

"All of them. One by one. Followed by the rug in front of the fireplace."

Castle lifts his head off the pillow, watching her kiss a deviating line down his body. "Do I get break in between? To take a drink, regroup, catch my breath?"

She smirks up at him then rises, hands burrowing deep into his hair. "Then in the bathtub, me on top after washing your hair."

"Was it dirty?" he asks, stealing a kiss from her lips, "Or just full of sand after being jumped on the beach?"

She sits back on him, head lolling on her shoulders as her hips perform a slow, savoring grind on his. "On the veranda, as the sun sets."

His palms ascend her body to cup her breasts. "Exhibitionist much?"

"And against the window in the dining room…"

"Previous comment stands."

"Then—" she pauses, opens her eyes to meet his heated gaze, "—against the front door."

Castle smiles and sits up, arms winding about her. "Well, naturally."

Her arms encircle his neck, her nails scraping up his back. "On the floor in the hall. Or…on any of the floors really."

He plants a kiss in the middle of her chest. "Y'sure we can't come back next weekend?"

"And of course," she kisses his brow, licks his cheek, grazes his earlobe with her teeth, "in every position I can possibly think of in this bed."

Castle pulls back, studying her a moment with a small smile on his face. "Katherine Houghton Beckett, I get the distinct impression you are trying to claim something with this hypothetical and highly inventive love-making."

"If I am," she says, refusing to shirk his searching gaze, "it's not the house, however gorgeous."

"I don't need claiming," he tells her, knitting his hands at the small of her back. "You had me at Quit staring, Idiot, I'm here to interrogate your ass about a murder committed tonight for which you are my prime suspect."

"I don't recall ever uttering that sentence."

"I was paraphrasing."

"No kidding."

"And adding color based on your merciless glare."

"I see."

"By the time you showed up at my door and uttered you," he goes on, voice lowering and gaze flicking to her lips, "well, you really, really had me."

"So then…" she eyes him possessively, the corners of her mouth inching upwards, "…you're mine?"

Castle hums, body straining beneath her, "Body—" he kisses her, blue eyes open, "and soul."

She sucks in a breath then replies in little more than a whisper, "I'd like to claim you all the same." Beckett bites her lip and places a palm on his chest, pressing him back. "Over and over and over again…"

He acquiesces, sinking back on the bed, though his arms insist on taking her with him. "Starting now, I take it?"

"Starting right now," she says, initiating a greedy kiss.

His hands roam her back and ass, rummaging into her hair as she kisses the breath from his body and adopts it as her own. When they come up for air, Castle gulps and gazes up at her with eyes that look druggy and disoriented but not due to disrupted sleep. "So I'm not sleeping tonight is what you're saying."

Beckett peels off her negligee and flings it over the side of the bed. "Not if I can help it."

Castle nods compliantly, gaze gliding over her candlelit form. "I'll sleep when we get back to the city."

"Good plan," she smiles and swoops in to claim her man. Again. Something Beckett succeeds in doing twice more before dawn breaks on the day of their departure.

As they're leaving, she will claim him once more, quick and wild, against the front door. And when they walk out it afterwards, her mind will be calm and content. Not just because of the overabundant afterglow that is simply one benefit of making love with her favorite author, long-time partner and secret boyfriend. But because she came with questions and is leaving with answers. Answers that assure her that despite whatever lies in the past, the future is theirs for the making.

END.