The three intimate things about Kate Beckett Castle learnt and changed.

One. In the morning, she's up as soon as the alarm goes off. It's freakish, he thinks. The first time he woke up at her place, she was in the bathroom before he could even open one eye. How could someone be so awake so early in the morning, he didn't know. But he learns quickly.

The first time he managed to catch a glimpse of her, he felt like doing a victory dance, but after ten more minutes of sleep. Two weeks after that, he managed to utter a sleepy "stay". He didn't like that she left anyway, but he liked the hint of regret in her answer : "Can't, gotta go to work." It was a week ago. This morning, he's awake before the alarm. He scoots closer to her and spoons her. Imprisoning her in his warm embrace when the offensive thing goes off, he tries again. "Stay." He places an open mouth kiss against her neck. She whispers the same answer : "Can't, gotta go to work." But she doesn't move.

Two. She blow dries her hair, naked. She towels her hair and body first. Then the drier. He realized that by chance. He was still half asleep in her bed when his phone chimed. He laid across the mattress to pick it from his jeans, on the floor. After answering Alexis' text, he stayed there. That's when he saw. He had a direct view of her bathroom. He watched her stepped out the tub, desire building up in him. He had to restrain himself. He wanted nothing more than get up and help her wipe the droplets of water off her long legs and... He lost all coherent thoughts when, after toweling her curls, she picked her hairdrier. Stark naked, warm air blowing her hair, her hand and the brush trying to discipline it. It was mesmerizing. Suddenly, he jumped off the bed. In a flash, he had her in his arms. His chest against her back, his hands roaming.

"Castle", she half-yelled, half-laughed.

"Want you," he mumbled, his mouth attacking her neck and his hips grinding against her ass. She whimpered and he smiled. He tightened his embrace when she turned around, their lips meeting hungrily.

So, this morning, when he hears the shower stop, he moves in the bed to have a better view. His eyes darkens when she steps out. His heart speeds up when she towels her body off. But his brows furrow when she puts on some underwear. A whine escapes him as she slips her legs in the jeans.

"Sorry. Can't afford to be late again," she teases him. He pouts and falls back on the bed.

Three. Beckett likes to read in her bath. She takes long, hot, bubble bathes. Just her and a good book. Mystery of course. She let Castle in once because she forgot to pour herself a glass of wine. He brought it to her. A quick kiss on her lips and he was out. She didn't miss his smug smile upon seeing the book she had chosen : Storm warning. One of his, of course.

This time, there is no smug smile. He stops two feet from her, her forgotten glass still in his hand. She extends her arm. He just glares at her, pulling the glass closer to his chest.

"Grisham's The rain maker? Are you kidding me?"

She gives him a puzzled look.

"It's a good book."

"I never said it wasn't."

"Then, what's wrong?" She pushes.

"I, it... He, hum..." He stammers. Her eyebrows shoot up. "It's not one of my books! You're in your bath, naked. And reading another writer's work," he flares up.

She chuckles but soon stifles it. He is dead serious.

"Right. What about in bed?"

"Bed's fine... with pajamas."

She really wants to laugh now. Instead, she thrusts the book in his direction.

"I want Driving storm," she simply tells.

He beams at her, exchanging the glass for the Grisham's book. He prances out to fetch the other book. His book.

One. The book party is in full swing. Beckett's watching Castle from afar. He's signing books, sunglasses on his nose – it's ridiculous. Paula, at his side, carries his champagne glass and fends off the sometimes too-eager fans. She feels a ping of jealousy when a pretty blond with big boobs throws her cleavage in his face. The marker she's holding makes her demand quite clear. "Would you sign my chest?" It's just his -weird- job, she tries to convince herself. But Castle's shaking his head, no. He takes a book behind him and signs inside. All the while smiling politely and making conversation with the bimbo The blond looks terribly disappointed.

"He never stopped signing chest before, you know?" Beckett jumps at the sound of Gina's voice.

"What?" Gina chuckles.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you. I was saying that Rick never refused to sign chests before. Not even after we got married."

This conversation is making Beckett uncomfortable. She takes a sip of her drink to buy time.

"I'm sorry," she offers lamely. Gina smiles.

"Don't be. He's never written better. Most authors need to be miserable to write well. He needs to be happy. So, as his editor : thank you!" Beckett's speechless, making Gina's smile widen. "Oh, sorry, I need to say hello to some people. Enjoy the party."

She's biting her lower lip as she approaches him. She slips an arm around his waist. Her mouth close to his ear, she whispers.

"Would you sign my chest?"

His head spins so fast she has to steady him. She answers the question in his eyes. "Not now."

"Later?" He asks in a high pitched voice.

"Later," she confirms, walking away, swaying her hips. He can't help but stare at her ass.

"Ouch!" He turns back to Paula, stroking his forearm, where she pinched him.

"Book signing now! Sexing up your girlfriend, later," the agent slags.

The end.

Edited : I forgot the disclaimer! I don't own Castle.