In Which Castle and Beckett Accidentally Make a Sex Tape
AN: Episode Insert for 5x07, 'Swan Song'. Set in the evening after the first day with the camera crew invading the precinct.
Co-Authored by ColieMacKenzie and Blue252
"Sooooo Detective Beckett," he drawls while entering the bedroom.
"Mmm?" she hums, absentmindedly.
She doesn't bother to look up, as she's thoroughly engrossed in her book. As soon as they arrived at the loft after dinner she had shed her work clothes and sunk into a hot bubble bath. It's one of her favorite luxuries about staying at his place. His tub is much bigger than hers and he has this lavender aromatherapy bath salt that eases the tension out of her almost immediately. It had been such a long day and she badly needed to decompress. All those asinine cameras following them around at work had really gotten under her skin.
Hours later, she's stretched languidly across his bed, reading Frozen Heat for the third time, completely content in one of his t-shirts and a pair of yoga pants. And more than prepared to ignore the onslaught Castle's latest ramble, whatever it may be.
She vaguely registers the sound of something beeping as he approaches the bed.
"So Detective Beckett," he starts again, voice louder this time. "How does it feel to have New York City's best close rate for homicide cases?"
Huh? She shakes her head in annoyance, still not looking up from her book.
He tries again.
"Detective, can you please tell us what it's like to achieve justice for countless families through your job at the Twelfth Precinct?"
"Castle, what the hell are you…" Her voice trails off as she finally looks up to find Castle grinning widely at her, camera in hand.
Her eyes narrow immediately while he continues to beam at her, completely unfazed by her apparent revulsion.
"Practicing, Beckett!" he sing-songs. "I thought we could work on your on screen personality. You know, ease the camera shyness a bit."
"I hardly think I need to work on my camera personality," she starts. But he cuts her off, oblivious to her objections.
"See, it's easy," he says as he turns the camera around to point at himself. "I'm Rick Castle," he states, slipping into his TV persona with remarkable ease. "I shadow Detective Kate Beckett at the Twelfth Precinct. She's the inspiration for my best-selling Nikki Heat series. After I charmed her with my ruggedly hand-OOOF…"
She cuts him off with a swift kick in the shin as she swings out of bed, lunging to steal the camera.
"Beckett," he whines, dodging her hand as he backs up and attempts to hold the device out of her reach. "Just give it a chance! We can start with easy questions," he says, still grinning goofily.
She crosses her arms and glares at him, daring him to continue.
"What's your favorite color?" he questions dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows at her. Oh good grief, he really is Martha Rogers son. He also seems to have a death wish tonight.
"You're really not going to give this up are you?" she asks, sighing as she runs a hand through her hair.
He doesn't respond. Just shakes his head and winks.
"You know what my favorite color is, Castle," she says, rolling her eyes.
"But they don't," he replies with an exaggerated whisper, pointing to the camera.
"That's because 'they' don't need to know," she hand quotes.
He gives her a wounded expression and she groans. He's relentless.
"My favorite color is purple," she grumbles, looking down.
That earns her a smile. "What's your favorite food?" he questions next.
"Chinese," she responds, still avoiding eye contact. "Castle, this is stupid," she says, turning so that her face is mostly hidden.
"Hmmm," he muses, continuing on, "As completely adorable as it is that you're so shy, the point is to improve, Beckett." He reaches out to gently to tug her closer again and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "And just so you know, you look gorgeous on screen," he adds softly.
She steps out of his embrace and ducks her head again, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.
He clears his throat, switching back into narrator voice. "Now, let's try this again. Tell me Detective Beckett, what's the best part of your job?"
Getting justice for the victims and their families, she thinks to herself. But she doesn't say it. This is ridiculous. She doesn't need to tell any of this to a camera. This is her job. And it's important. Not something to be flaunted onscreen for ratings while there is real work to be done.
When she finally looks up, she sees Castle's expectant gaze. His eyes are imploring her to speak. She ponders for a moment, not understanding why this matters so much to him. She'd figured that he'd be all about playing it up for the cameras. Which was fine with her. The more he performed for them, the more she could stay in the shadows and focus on the job. And while yes, he has spent a good amount of time hamming it up for the documentary, he's also been incessant about her own camera time.
"What is this about, Castle? Why do you care so much that I don't want to talk to them?" she asks softly.
He sighs and sets the camera down behind him on the dresser, clicking the off button. "I just want them to see how amazing you are, Kate."
He steps closer and drapes his arms loosely around her waist.
"I've watched you work for almost five years now," he continues. "What you do every day can't be quantified. It can't be summed up in close rates. I've seen you catch killers, solve some of the most incredible mysteries, and risk your own life so you could give closure to families of victims. And through all of this you still manage to find the joy in life. Just like you told me a couple months ago. You never quit hoping Kate. Your passion saves lives, brings justice, and is a large part of what makes you the most incredible person I've ever known."
She looks up at him, shocked, when he pauses for a moment, thinking.
"I've made a living off my books but you're the first person who has ever left me speechless. I don't think there are any number of words adequate to truly express how extraordinary you are."
It wasn't at all what she was expecting and for a moment she almost feels like she could cry. This side of Castle that she gets to see now, it continues to stun her and she wonders how she could have ever doubted how incredible this could be. He's every bit as amazing - means every bit as much to her.
"Of course it doesn't hurt that you're also super sexy in those heels chasing down suspects," he adds, eyes dancing at her.
She chokes out a laugh and smacks him lightly on the shoulder, swallowing down the wave of emotion that he's managed to stir up. Damn that man and his beautiful words.
"Fine, what do you want me to answer?" she asks, rolling her eyes in an effort to recover from the moment.
A wide smile stretches across his face as he presses the record button on the camera and it beeps to life again. She knows that he registers how much what he said affected her. That he's moved her more than she is able to say. She'll speak the words soon herself, but tonight she'll give him this.
Fully reprising his role as narrator he begins to set the scene, "How does it feel when you've got a suspect in the bullpen? One that's vehemently denying his guilt. He won't talk but you're determined." He hops off the dresser, slowly stalking toward her, the camera held high, one eye on the little digital screen.
"So determined to get him to crack. You approach him slowly, invade his space a little."
He steps dangerously close to punctuate his words and she feels the resulting flare of arousal as he crowds her body, the width of his chest framing her.
"You're going to make him squirm, build your theory, get him real good and nervous."
He runs his fingers along her arm, slowly, teasing and she shivers, the suggestive tone of his voice crawling underneath her skin, sending her heart racing.
"You notice as he starts to sweat. Notice the moment when his demeanor starts to show signs of cracking."
He whispers the words in her ear, growls the 'r' and 'k' at the end of his sentence while biting the lobe, immediately soothing it with the flick of his tongue. Her knees buckle and she curls her fingers into the fabric of his shirt over his pecs, hanging on.
"Then, BAM!" He draws her against him sharply, aligning their hips as he speaks the words, punctuates them with measured grinds of his hips into hers. "You slam your hand down on the table and tell him you know he's guilty. That there's no way out for him and he breaks right there in front of you. Confesses to the whole thing. You win the game."
He stills, a palm curved over her hip with his thumb pressed into the tender hollow beneath the bone, holding her steadily to him and she feels him pressed against her belly, the thick hot grind of him exhilarating the rush of her blood through her veins, the heat that unfolds in her midsection.
"How does that feel, Detective?" he asks again, his thumb slowly sliding lower on her abdomen, his breath hot against her lips and the damn camera still trained on her face. Oh god hot, it feels so hot, her skin, her cheeks flushed with it, spicy and inviting and frenzied, but if he thinks he can just lull her into submission with his broad chest and overwhelming sex appeal, he's got another thing coming. Two can play that game, she thinks, clawing her nails deeper into his pecs, dragging him further into her, taking charge.
"Mmm, it's exhilarating," she purrs, drawing out the word while she slowly turns him, pushes him backward toward the edge of the bed.
"Intoxicating." The word floats over his lips on a brush of hot breath and then she shoves against his chest and he falls backward, lands flat on his back on top of the blankets over the bed. His eyes go wide, exhilarated and expectant as he watches her stalk closer, the camera still clenched in his hand next to his head.
"A complete rush." She rolls the 'r', pushes the 'sh' from her mouth, knowing exactly the effect she has on him, and his pupils dilate darkly. She kneels on the bed, swings one leg over his hip and drops over him, holding herself over his body with her outstretched arms. His breathing speeds up underneath her and her blood rushes in her ears as she slowly, painstakingly crawls over his body.
"There's nothing," she whispers, undulates her body so that her breasts graze his chest, and his pelvis twitches underneath her responsively. "Like having someone…" She leans further into his face, her hair falling over his head in long waves. "Completely…" The word floats past his ear as she licks a trail over its rim. "At my mercy…"
He growls, grips a palm over hip and holds her down so she's straddling him, pressing into her with urgency. She rises up, throws her hair over her shoulder as she arches high over him, her pelvis grinding a circle against his middle.
"Forget it." His voice is raw and dark while he guides her body with the sharp grip of his fingers digging into her flesh. "Nobody will get to see you the way I see you," he growls possessively.
"Thought so," she grins, pleased with him while she reaches for the camera and unfolds it from his grasp. She really wanted to play with him some more, tease him for bugging her with that thing but now she couldn't care less, all she wants is him, his broad naked body underneath her, inside of her, driving her wild.
Reaching behind her she deposits the stupid camera on the nightstand, not even looking where it lands, not caring either because both his hands are at her hips, sliding underneath her t-shirt, palms warm as they curve over her skin. She grips the bottom of the garment; at once desperate to feel his touch all over her flushed skin. Dragging it over her head quickly she throws it behind her, then unclasps her bra, slipping it off just as fast, tossing it in a wide curve over the bed.
The second she's freed from the soft lacy fabric his hands cup her instead, the weight of her breasts sinking into his smooth palms while he finds the nipples, tweaks them simultaneously between his thumb and index finger. Flares of heat explode in her abdomen, rush through her limbs, flush her skin and she moans, loud and liberated, head thrown back, her middle pressed hard over him. Oh god this is what she needed after this irritating day with the constant observation, with having to censor her every step and word and touch. This rush of passion, these moments where she can be free and uninhibited, where she can just be herself. With him.
Kate drops over him, finds his mouth, lips hot and insistent over his as her tongue surges inside, tangles with his, his taste strong and familiar, leaving her throbbing with want. Her fingers fly down the buttons of his shirt, ripping them open until her hands are pressed over his broad chest, the heated flush of his skin. He groans into her mouth while his hand slips down her stomach, fumbles with the elastic waistband of her yoga pants, pressing his fingers underneath the fabric, firm pressure over her nerves and her head is swimming, the need for him harsh and insistent, claiming all her senses.
She rises up, wiggles out of her pants and underwear, and it's ungraceful but it's fast and she watches with satisfaction as his whole body jerks into her at the sight of her draped naked over him. His pants are next and she pulls them off, bringing the boxers with, everything landing in a heap on the floor next to the bed while she settles over his body, her fingers wrapped around him, thick and hot in her palm. She twirls her index finger over his tip in slow teasing circles and he moans, willing and completely at her mercy, his hips grinding helplessly. He blinks open his eyes, his pupils so dark they're almost black. She smiles softly, the affection for him welling through her blood.
"Not willing to share me, huh?" She aligns her body with his, teasing him against her folds where she's wet, weeping with want and his eyes roll back. He shakes his head.
"N… no."
"Good," she whispers, slowly sinking down over him, welcoming him inside her body until she's flush against his hips and he fills her deep, so deep. She stills, deliberately clenches her inner muscles around him.
"Coz I just want you."
He surges up to sit, his arms banded firmly around her waist, her shoulder blades, cradling her tightly over his body, his breathing rapid, his moans almost weeping. She kisses him, matches the slide of her tongue to the strong deep push of him inside her, feeling wholly filled by him, body, mind and soul. He helps guide her hips over him as she rises and falls, her nerve endings on fire with the scorching waves of his touch. It sparks behind her eyelids, ripples through her muscles; their movements speeding up, sloppier and she can barely keep herself upright were it not for the strong grip of his arm around her. He swirls his thumb over her nipple, flips and tweaks it and suddenly she breaks, fast and hard, shuddering over him until her spasms take him with her, his groans loud and dark in her ear, his body jittery with release.
"Hey dad?" Alexis strides through the living room heading for his office. "Is it okay if I borrow your camera. It's for a class project."
"Sure." He waves at her, nose still burrowed into his book, his other hand absentmindedly kneading Kate's foot that rests in his lap. "It's in the drawer with all the electronics, I think."
He hears her rummaging, and then- "Found it!" She exclaims from the other room.
Something nags at his brain; he can't quite put his finger on it.
"Dad there's some kind of video on this, do you still need it?"
His book drops out of his hand at the same moment that Kate gasps, sits up straight on the couch.
"Kate's on it," Alexis yells from the other room. "Like an… interview?"
His fingers clench around her ankle as he stares at her. "Kate did you actually turn that thing off when you took it from me?"
Her eyes widen with horror; they both turn their heads toward the office-
"ALEXIS!"
The End