I don't own Castle.

Title: Kinky Not Funny

Rating: T

Description: "And if I were writing a book, this is where bad things would happen." I want to be snarky but the only thing that comes to mind is that I want to use these handcuffs for very, very "bad" things. Based on the first "Cuffed" sneak peek!

"Mmm."

The sound snaps me out of my sleepy haze. I've been staring at him for a while now, wanting to touch him but scared that if I do, I'll wake up. I have these dreams sometimes. Dreams that leave me breathless, panting, and sweaty but in a totally different way than the nightmares.

They're good dreams.

I don't want to get up…

But then he speaks. He never speaks in my dreams. They're always silent – playing like a muted black-and-white movie. We're usually wearing strange clothes – 1940s dresses and suits; or space uniforms; one time he was the cop, I was the writer. If he knew the things I think about sometimes…

Focus, Kate.

"Don't get up yet… Stay in bed."

Not a dream, is my first thought. This isn't a dream. Oh, God. This isn't a dream. I shoot up, but then feel my left arm constrict. Oh, my God, I feel the back of his neck on my arm – the little hairs tickle and I try not to shiver. No time for dirty thoughts, Kate, I tell myself. Get up.

I can't get up. That is when I feel the cold metal wrapped tightly around my wrist. It's a handcuff.

What the hell is going on?

"Castle."

He breathes in and I can't breathe at all.

He opens his eyes and turns his head so his sleepy daze is locked with my panicked look.

"Kate…" he pauses, his eyes finally adjusting the darkness of the room. Staring at me. God, would he stop staring at me? It's making me nervous and totally aroused. God, stop. Stop it!

"Hi."

He breathes in the greeting, like we just made love and… God, I can't think about this. We need to get out of here. I can't focus when he's looking at me like that. Does he think he's dreaming? Does he dream about me?

"Castle."

"What?"

He blinks and I know that he finally realizes that he isn't dreaming.

"Did you do this?" I try to show him the cuffs because he obviously hasn't noticed them yet. Or, he tries to play it off because he put them on us in the first place. Did we get drunk together? No, no, I reassure myself. Because if I had gotten drunk with Castle and we ended up handcuffed, there was no way we would still have clothes on…

"What?"

What, what? Did I say that out loud?

No, no I didn't.

"Stopping saying 'what' and wake up." I am frustrated and completely hyper – my brain is running a million miles an hour, trying to come up with reasons that we would end up this way.

He's looking and I feel my wrist shake as he jiggles the handcuffs up and down, a resounding jingle echoes throughout the room. Where are we, anyway? I sniff and smell dirt, mold, iron and something else I can't identify. Is that the smell of blood? Where the hell are we?

"We're handcuffed."

Thank you, Captain Obvious. I give him a very Beckett-esque glare. Obviously, we are handcuffed.

"Kinky," he adds.

Don't say that, Castle. Don't say that.

"Castle, it's not funny."

I hold up the handcuffs, planning on arresting him for a second time. He bubbles something about *69 and doing his own investigation. I pull on his ear. Apples, apples! These little guys are best sellers. I already have my own. Too many handcuffs. Why did I choose to be a cop again?

"I didn't say 'funny', I said 'kinky.' And I didn't cuff us."

I didn't cuff us! There is no way I did it. I wouldn't be that stupid to tempt myself in cuffing us. Sure, I am going to therapy – I am becoming a better person. Because I want to love him and make love to him and live with him and have his children… and I want to do it whether or not I solve my mother's murder.

"You think I cuffed us?"

He can't possibly…

"Well, they look like police cuffs."

I glance at them. They do look like police handcuffs. I want to feel my side, make sure that I do, indeed, have mine. And these aren't mine. I can't feel them against my jeans. Then again, I can't feel much of anything when Castle is mere inches away from me and we're tied together with metal and sexual tension.

"Somebody else did this to us," I gasp and we sit up at the same time, always in sync with each other. My skin pulls painfully as I twist my arm to better accommodate our position. Everything is dirty.

The room is dirty, too. It's dark with just a small rectangle-shaped window blaring white light into our room. It's too high to climb to and there is no way I am going – even if we manage to get the cuffs off – that I will stand up again on Richard Castle's shoulder…

Cas, I said legs!

"Do you recognize this place?"

No doors. Along the wall closest to Castle, there is a panel full of rusty knives covered in … is that blood? What is this place? I feel like I just stepped out of reality and into a horror movie. Plucky sidekick always gets killed.

"No… And if I were writing a book, this is where bad this would happen."

We need to get out of here.

"My watch is missing," I realize, feeling the vacant weight on my wrist.

He feels around for his own. I manage to as well – every movement I do, he follows and vice versa. Because we're handcuffed. Because we're in a constant spiral, floating next to each other, just barely out of reach. In the depths of the Underworld, I swim after him but he's just outside my grasp.

"Mine… too. And my wallet."

There goes the key he keeps in there.

"So is my badge and my gun," I grunt. There goes blasting out the window with a bullet. Or drilling one in the skull of our captor. Or shooting myself. Eh. Who is our captor, anyway? Why are we here?

"And my phone… I just renewed my contract."

I try not to roll my eyes or slap him across the face. Can't he be serious? We need to get out of here. Before our kidnapper comes back. Or worse… I do something very, very dirty. The wall is still up – I can't just jump the shark before I learn to swim. I'm still taking lessons.

But it's tempting. Too tempting.

"Would you stop joking?" I'm exasperated.

"Hey, do I begrudge you your coping mechanisms?"

What does that mean? Does he know? Does he know that I lied to him so many months ago? I never told anyone that I was going to therapy. He and I communicate sometimes without words. Does he know what I'm thinking? What isn't he telling me?

We need to get out of here.

A.N.

I couldn't help it. Haha. I know a lot of people wanted a Oneshot based on the "Cuffed" sneak peeks, so, here is my interpretation! I can't wait for this episode. I have never laughed at a one-minute video as I did with this one…
Hope you enjoyed!

Until next time,
Lizzy