A/N: Sorry for making a 'rises' joke on easter. Lol jk no I'm not. Takes place sometime in the near-ish future, probably at the end of the summer. (POSTING TONIGHT JUST FOR YOU CARTOGRAPHICAL, I HOPE IT RISES TO THE OCCASION. Thank you I'll be here all night.)

Jealousy is not an emotion Kate Beckett feels very often, but she's positively green with it as she peeks around a best seller display at the line of preening and swooning women snaking its way through the Barnes & Noble on fifth avenue. There are dozens of them, more than a hundred probably, more than she wants anywhere near him, and it's making her want to snatch the copies of his book they're holding right out of their pretty little hands. She plunks a novel back down on the shelf in front of her, the one she had been pretending to peruse, irritated at herself. She's not this woman, not someone who is insecure about their relationship at all in relation to other women (he never lets her forget that he's only ever wanted her since he laid eyes on her), but she's feeling all kinds of possessive.

In any case, they've both been too busy with work for the past week and a half to have had any kind of alone time together and it's just pooling in her gut to watch these women fawn over him. He's got to be so goddamned charming too.

She picks her way up the line, absorbing snatches of conversation about how handsome he is and how sexy his books are and she really, really does not care about outing herself as the real Nikki Heat as she catches sight of the tall blonde currently leaning over his signing table, cleavage on display. (To his credit though, he doesn't appear to be looking.) The second he catches sight of her she can see it all over his face, the way his pen falters for a second on the page of the blonde's book (ha ha ha), the way his eyebrows rise, expression smoothing out, eyes warming with real not persona. He hardly acknowledges the other woman as she walks away, much to her disappointment, but then she's out of sight and Beckett and Castle both have already forgotten her.

"Hey," he stage whispers, flicking his eyes to her face with a warm smile and then to the next woman coming up with a well worn copy of Naked Heat in her grasp. He gestures to the security guy as he's taking the woman's book. "She's with me," he says and then before she knows what she's doing, she's ducking under the stripe of fabric dividing him from his hoard of adoring fans and sliding into the empty plastic seat beside him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, making eye contact with the shy looking girl in front of him, asking her name and scribbling his own into her book and passing it back. "Did you find a new lead?"

The next woman that steps up is eyeing her curiously, having just overheard Castle's question to her. Any fan willing to wait hours in line to get their book signed is one who will know that he shadows a detective, the real Nikki Heat as research, and put two and two together. This is why she never, ever goes to these things. The one time she had accidentally stumbled onto the press with him they had immediately started asking her how many of the sex scenes were based in reality. The answer had been none of them back then, but for Frozen Heat, she'd have to lie.

"No, no lead, I just – " she stops, the other woman is completely listening in on their conversation and she doesn't know what to say or not say. They're not exactly out. Instead of finishing, she slides an open palm across his thigh under the table. The security guard can probably see what she's doing, but she doesn't really care, the other women are oblivious (or at least they can only speculate because now the whispers are starting).

His throat constricts in a tight swallow as she watches, she can feel the muscle in his leg tense at her touch. She doesn't move it.

"I'm taking a break in like five," he says, voice tripping down an octave. "Wait for me?"

She nods, sliding her hand farther up the inseam in his pants, making him straighten in his chair. "Meet me in the bathroom," she whispers into his ear, voice all hot breath, the tips of her fingers just barely brushing over the zipper of his jeans, and then she's up and ducking back under the divider without even looking back. She doesn't need to.

Her walk to the bathroom is punctuated with curious glances from the line she has to cut through to get across the store. She's getting seriously eyed by anyone who was close enough to see her drop her mouth to Castle's ear, can hear people whispering Nikki Heat as she picks up her pace. This is a bad, bad idea, tempting fate, tempting the press, the internet, these women all have cell phones and she's not being careful at all but she needs to be alone with him, just for a minute.

Just a minute.

That's all.

She's pacing in front of the mirror in the one person bathroom when the door finally opens and he peeks his head in. "Beckett?" he whispers into the room, hesitating, but then she's reaching out and yanking him inside by his shirt and pressing him back against the door.

"Lock it," she says, staring him right in the eye, listening for the click as he doesn't break her gaze.

"Is everything – " he starts to ask, but then she's cutting him off with the insistent press of her mouth and he just goes with it, sliding his palms up her back and then into her hair.

"How long do you have?" she asks, breathless, letting her fingernails rake lightly down his chest over his shirt. He grabs her wrists, gasping a little bit as she goes too far down, starts to walk her backward and away from the door.

"I don't know, ten minutes?" She's nodding, staring at his mouth as her back hits the wall, his hands pinning her wrists to the cool tile as his eyes rove her face. "I thought you hated book signings."

"I do hate book signings." She sighs as he leans back into her mouth, tugging a shallow kiss from her lips.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I don't hate you?" He grins at that, a lopsided, sweet little smile, and she shakes his fingers off of her wrist so she can reach up for the back of his hair and pull his head back down to her.

"That's the sweetest – " kiss "thing you've ever – " kiss "said to me." She's smiling against his mouth in a humoring him kind of way, groans a little bit when he suddenly presses her tighter against the wall, his thigh falling in a sweet spot.

"Ahh," she breathes into him, grasps onto his bicep as he rocks into her, kissing him harder. He must sense her desperation, starts moving his leg deliberately and then it's all wet, sloppy tongues and gaspy half stuck inhalations and she's leaving finger wrinkles in his shirt.

"They mean nothing to me," he whispers in her ear as she starts to come undone, forehead moving to rest on his shoulder as his mouth hovers at the side of her head. He always has to be so goddamned intuitive. "Just you, only you."

She bites him as she suddenly peaks, leaving teeth marks in his shoulder underneath his shirt, she's pretty sure. He rubs her back as she catches her breath, her face flat against his shoulder now, hiding a little bit.

"You should come to my book signings more often if it gets you this hot…" he starts to say and then she's moving her hand to cup the front of his jeans in a whip fast move that leaves him stuttering.

"Jesus – "

"Looks like I'm not the only one." Her cheeks are pink but her trademark smirk finds her lips like it never left and now he's the one completely off balance. It doesn't last for long though, cocky overconfidence always a side effect of spending too much time around people who are entirely too complimentary. He's unbuttoning her jeans before she can even register what he's doing and then she's up on her toes with the feeling of his fingers dragging against her.

"What are you doing, Castle," she swears at him. They only have five more minutes and he's already finished her once.

"You are so – " she cuts him off with her mouth before he can say wet, needing to get control of this situation. She's already showed up here and let him rub her off against a bathroom wall without even getting undressed, it's time to turn the tables.

She feels one of his fingers slide home, wants to gasp but swallows it down because he's groaning too and this is her chance. "Castle?" she asks, voice all air as she noses up his neck and to his ear. She can feel all of his focus trailing down his arm to his finger, where it is, where other parts of him want to be.

"Hmm?"

Her lips are at his ear now. "How badly do you want to be inside me right now?" He chokes around her question, his finger hooking, palm pressing, she's groaning but it's his voice she hears in her head. She flicks the button on his jeans open, an invitation, but she doesn't make a move to do anything else. He takes the hint though, slides his hand from between her skin and her jeans, into his own, pulls himself out with the hand that's still slippery with her and all she can do is stare as he moves his fist up and down.

The atmosphere in the bathroom gets thick and heavy as she watches him touch himself, sticky with her, hard for her, the rest of his body pressed against her, breath shared, both of them thrumming. His forehead tips against her temple, she can feel him breathing, reaches out a hand to rest the tips of her fingers against his knuckles, not helping just feeling him move. His fist starts at her touch, stutters and then he's switching their grips so she's got her fingers around him and his are on top and he's showing her how he likes it.

Her other hand slides its way into his hair, behind his ear, cupping his head as they work him off together. Her mouth ghosts against his, soft, pliant, swallowing the tight sounds he's making, following him just there.

"Do you want me to – " she starts to say, gasps a little bit when his tongue strokes into her mouth, her fist tightening around him, faster. "Do you want me to finish you?"

He releases her hand at the question, lets her set her own pace, trails his fingers up her inseam until she's climbing the wall behind her because of where he's touching. "I want you here," he breathes, scratching a nail over her zipper, but there's not enough time.

"Later," she promises, speeds up, makes him forget about anything but her hand, her fingers, her, swallows the deep groan that spills from his lips for her.

Only for her.

He's five minutes late from his break, Gina's assistant shooting daggers at them as she takes in his ruffled appearance. His shirt is a bit wrinkled at the shoulders, a drying crescent of teeth marks at his collar, hair sticking up at odd angles. He smoothes it down self consciously before he's in view of the line still occupying most of the store, coming off more adorably disheveled than anything else, she's sure. Beckett hangs back around the corner, just watches him smile self deprecatingly at the throng of women as he ducks under the barrier, picks up his pen and uncaps it with a flourish that makes the entire crowd laugh. More than a few people snap pictures of him as he resumes his signing and she cringes at the thought of them on Page Six tomorrow. Doesn't even want to imagine the captions because she's here too and was not at all stealthy about basically fucking him in the bathroom.

God.

She's about halfway to a mild panic attack when Castle shifts his eyes from working his adoring crowd to where she's standing, pins her with a look that's all warmth and affection and she finds her chest unclenching before she even registers his effect on her. They're good, she's good because he's hers and it really doesn't matter what any of these people think, what anyone thinks because this thing they have is theirs and nothing is going to change that. She shoots him a quick grin and a small wave before she doubles back to their bathroom, shutting the door behind her and coming up to the mirror to survey herself. Her hair's a bit wild, looks like his fingers have been in it (because they have), her cheeks pink, lips well loved. The weight of her cell phone is heavy in her back pocket, and she slides it out, palms it for a minute before bringing it up to eye level. Her camera isn't the greatest, but the lighting in the bathroom is kind of awesome, all shadowy in the way that makes her look like she's being sultry without even trying. Perfect.

She tilts her head forward a bit, letting her wild hair frame her face and snaps a picture, turns her phone around to throw it into a text message.

Until tonight xoxo Nikki Heat.