A/N: A random AU I wrote at an airport earlier this year :)

LAX is quiet this time of night, the usual buzz and excitement that spreads through the airport is gone, replaced with tired passengers, and a minimal amount of workers who definitely do not want to be here.

Castle glances at his watch - one A.M. - and presses his fingers into his eyes as he groans, wishing with every part of him that his delayed flight will be able to take off soon

He had been seated in the plane, almost ready to taxi, when the captain had announced there was a fuel problem and they needed to exit the aircraft. 30 minutes had turned into an hour, an hour into two. He didn't even plan to catch the late flight, but his obligations in Los Angeles had finished sooner than expected, and he wanted to surprise Alexis in the morning by returning home a day early. Since there were no other flights this late, it was either wait it out or go to a hotel. The refrain of 'it won't be much longer,' kept him and most other passengers waiting at the airport.

Worst flight ever.

He had tried to write for the first hour, but the lack of sleep was not helpful this time. His words had jumbled, the distractions of the airport leaving him unfocused and frustrated, so he'd been alternating between playing apps on his phone, and attempting to get some rest.

He's been lying on the floor, his bag-turned-pillow dented from where his head has been resting for the last hour. The floor ended up being too uncomfortable - he's much too old to be sleeping soundly on the ground.

Stretching his arms above his head, he winces as his joints pop, his muscles straining, protesting the movement. He sits up, giving up on resting, and looks around to study the others who are stuck in the same predicament.

Scanning the people, he looks for someone to catch his attention, and stops when his eyes come across a woman, in her thirties he guesses, curled brown hair and long legs crossed as she sits on the floor, leaning against the wall.

She's gorgeous.

His eyes focus as he studies her face, a rush of excitement tingling through him as his interest picks up. She's reading a book, he notices, and oh, it's a mystery novel, but not one of his. He can't help but wonder if she's read his, if she likes all mysteries or just this one author. Her brow is furrowed as she reads, concentrating on the words, and some of his annoyance at the flight is washed away as he takes in the adorable sight.

A story forms in his mind as he watches, enthralled already by this woman - and he tries to ignore how creepy this makes him. She's dressed casually, which doesn't tell him too much, but maybe she's not going to New York for business. He thinks she's a native New Yorker - or is that him hoping? Maybe she's a teacher. She would have the kids wrapped around her finger. She already has him.

His mind delves into her story, contemplating things like her favorite animal, what she has for breakfast, where she grew up. She yawns then, and he finds himself doing the same, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, and it breaks him out of his ridiculous train of thoughts. The idea of this woman is driving him crazy and his muscles twitch, aching to walk over to her and

introduce himself.

He shakes his head, berating his overactive imagination, because how many times has he fallen in love with random women that he's never talked to?

He yawns again, eyes blinking rapidly from exhaustion - he scans the area and spots the one cafe open at this hour. A caffeine fix, and a distraction, is needed to get the thought of the beautiful, mysterious woman out of his head.

The shop is only a short walk from the gate, and it doesn't take him long to lose self control and turn his head back to the woman, already greedy for more of her.

She's put her book away now, and is standing up, and oh god, she's tall as well. Her long legs and slim body make his head spin, and he needs to get a hold of himself, right now. He flicks his head back straight, clenching his fists, determined to not look at her until he has sat back down.

Arriving at the small shop he orders his coffee, adding a brownie with it, and waits as the lonesome barista prepares his order. He picks at the brownie as he stands at the register, doing everything in his power not to search for the woman. He looks up at the flight status, the flashing 'delayed' announcement next to his flight reminding him about his predicament and making him scowl. The barista finishes making his coffee and Castle takes it, savoring the warmth through the paper cup. He spins quickly, to head back to his gate and-

Smacks straight into someone, the lid of his cup popping off and hot coffee splashing out all over his hand… and her shirt.

Her shirt.

The woman he has been watching and fantasizing about is standing there, her mouth open in shock, arms tensed in front of her, fingers flared. His first thought is that she's even more gorgeous up close and no, focus, Rick. The liquid is burning his hand, throbbing as the coffee drips off his skin, but he can't worry about that because oh no, this is not the introduction he wanted to have.

"Oh... my God. I'm so sorry!" he exclaims, his hands clenching and unclenching, unsure what to do. He stares at her chest, the coffee staining her white shirt, the wet fabric clinging to her skin-

"There is almost no one in this airport and yet you still manage to run into me," she snaps, her words sending ice down his spine, and he flicks his eyes quickly back to her face, his brain panicked and confused as he debates what to do.

She's frustrated, brow furrowed, her fingers pulling the soaked fabric away from her, red blotches forming on the patch of skin that the v of her shirt exposes. He ignores the arousal swirling in his body, but he studies the frustration in her face, and guilt weighs heavy in his gut.

"I'm so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I'll- uh- grab some napkins." He turns and takes a handful from the shop counter to give to her. She starts pressing them to the stains, the darker brown beginning to fade to a subtler beige.

"I'll buy you a coffee to make up for it. And a shirt!" he exclaims, a little overeager, but he wants to help in someway. Plus he can't shake the idea that maybe she'll allow him talk to her as they drink their coffees together. His pulse picks up at that, erratic and excited under his skin, and he should not be this enamored by someone so soon.

She smirks at his offer, her face lighting up with amusement at his enthusiasm, and hope unfurls within him; he might have a chance to keep talking to her.

"It's ok, sorry for snapping at you. I'm just tired and frustrated from this delay," she says, as she continues to dab at her chest with the napkins. Her eyes have softened, and he notices the alternating colors of green and brown, studies the slope of her nose, her lips, her cheeks. His stomach whorls again, the attraction he feels already setting of sparks of anticipation.

"Tell me about it. Of all the flights to get delayed, it had to be the one that was already a late night flight." He shakes his head but smiles at her, and she returns it as she nods in agreement, her grin stretching wide across her face and oh, she's beautiful.

"Yeah, I wasn't even supposed to be in LA. I should be back at work, so this delay is not going to put me in my boss' good books," she mutters, guilt tracing her face as her eyes darken and he's hit with the desire to know her story. He considers asking her profession, but there's a hint of sadness in her features and the fear of her rejecting him makes him change the topic.

"Well, my daughter is expecting me home in two days, and I was hoping to get back early and surprise her. Which I guess I still will, just might have to spend the whole day in bed sleeping, instead of with her."

"Oh, you were on a book tour?" she asks, her eyes snapping to his full of intrigue, and wait, does that mean-

"You know who I am?"

"Hmm, yeah, I've read a couple of your books," she hums, grinning as her eyes dart to the floor, but her curiosity tells him she's underplaying it.

"Well then I feel even worse for spilling coffee on a fan." He can't stop the curl of his lips, the banter with her doing more for his energy than any coffee could.

"Hey, I never said I was a fan," she replies, her tongue poking through her teeth, and he won't even try to feel offended when her face is practically glowing. "I will take you up on that coffee though?"

He clicks his fingers and spins, back to the bored barista, ordering another coffee for himself, and letting the woman - oh, he doesn't even know her name yet - order her vanilla latte.

"So you know my name, can I ask yours?" he asks, having to stop himself from clawing desperately for any information about her.

"Kate."

"Kate," he repeats, testing it out on his tongue, delighted to know this. He likes it, it suits her, and he wants to have more opportunities to use it, whispering it in her ear, or calling it out in bed with her underneath him-

He clears his throat, drags himself out of his thoughts.

"Well, Kate, wait right there, I'll be back."

He leaves her looking confused as he rushes off to where he knows a souvenir store is. One of the only other shops open at this hour, so unfortunately his choice for a new shirt is limited to a variety of Los Angeles themed t-shirts. He picks out two of the most tasteful ones, pays for them, and hurries back.

She's no longer at the coffee shop when he arrives, but he scans over the passengers at their gate and spots her sitting back on the floor, their two coffees held carefully in her hands. His heart blooms with the fact that he now has an excuse to sit with her, his mind scrambling for conversation starters so he can talk to her for as long as possible.

He picks his way between the other passengers and sits down next to her, his gut clenching as their shoulders brush while he gets comfortable. He reaches for his cup that she extends toward him, their fingers touching as he grabs it, and he sucks in a breath. Ridiculous that a simple touch from her is sending zips of pleasure through him, but he can't shake this crush he has on her.

He places the cup on the floor, and hands her the two t-shirts he bought, looking at her with wide eyes as he eagerly awaits her opinion on his chosen attire.

"You bought these for me?" she asks, awe lacing her voice that makes him yearn to give her anything she wants. She studies the two shirts, tracing her fingers over each of the designs as she contemplates which one to wear.

"Yeah, I mean, I know they aren't the quality style shirt you're wearing, but hopefully they'll be good for the plane ride? I'll be happy to replace this one when more shops are open." He raises his eyebrows, he would be very enthusiastic about taking her shopping back in the city.

She blinks a few times, and a smile blossoms, her eyes bright, staring at him as if she can't believe he actually bought her shirts. She keeps hold of a navy blue one, with a white embroidered Los Angeles on the front, and places the other shirt down next to her.

"I'll be right back," she says, standing up, and he watches her with wonder as she strides towards the bathrooms. He sinks back against the wall and huffs out a breath, his brain a mess as he scrambles to figure out how he can keep Kate in his life after tonight.

Seeing her in a shirt he bought should not fill him with as much joy as it does. She's walking back, hair bouncing and heels clicking, he can't stop staring. The tshirt clings to her, gives her a dressed down casual look that she didn't have before and it totally does it for him. He's overwhelmed by her, his mind foggy, doesn't know what she's doing to him, but he's never been more grateful for spilled coffee in his life.

"Looks good on you," he says, trying to keep his voice steady as his eyes travel over her when she sits back down.

She hums, the sound sending shivers down his spine, but she doesn't say anything else, just picks up her coffee and takes a long sip. A smile lingers on her face though, her eyes bright with mirth and accomplishment blooms within him.

They finish their coffees in silence, occasionally glancing at each other, catching eyes and hiding smiles. He's infatuated by her, barely knows anything about her, but longs to, could devour any information she gives him. The coffee has warmed him up, giving him energy that rushes through his bloodstream, and he feels like he could sit here all night in her presence.

"How old is your daughter?" she asks, breaking the silence, and oh, thank goodness, she's conversing with him.

He starts talking about Alexis, tells Kate about his beautiful 17 year old, and her dream to get accepted into Stanford early. She goes on to tell him about her time at Stanford, an experience which apparently got cut short for some reason, but it leads her to tell him she's a cop with the NYPD. And not just a cop - a homicide detective.

As if she could get anymore perfect.

He can see strings of sadness swimming in her eyes when she mentions her past, and his body cants toward hers, wants to comfort her, protect her from whatever awful things she's had to deal with. He craves to unravel this mystery that she's presented him with, is already dreading the idea of them parting, after only an hour of knowing her.

They continue to talk, mostly about her job, Castle asking ridiculous questions, 'for research', but it makes her laugh, and he relishes the sound, aims to pull it from her as much as he can.

She's responsive to him, and he feels like she needs this, a break from her job, someone to laugh with. They flirt a little, and he gets the occasional shoulder bump from her, the teasing coming naturally to both of them, his happiness is probably going to explode out of his chest any second.

Half an hour passes and the lethargy is creeping back in - he can see her eyelids droop, her blinks increasing. He manages to convince her to rest her head on his shoulder, heart fluttering as he feels the weight of her head upon him.

She falls asleep quickly, her body slack against his, and he could probably sleep too, but forces himself to remain awake so he can soak up as much of Kate touching him as possible. He draws patterns on her thigh, her leg warm under his touch, filling his body with heat and desire, and he so, so, needs to be able to see her in New York.

This can't be it.

Finally, finally, they announce that the plane is ready to board again, and relief courses through his veins. That is, until he looks down at Kate and it clicks that they won't be sitting next to each other. He's in first class, and being a cop, he doubts that she is, and disappointment floods him.

He rouses her from her nap with a gentle shake of her arm, and she sits up, rubs her eyes as he explains they can board. Kate breathes out a sigh of happiness and begins collecting her belongings.

"Where are you sitting?"

"32A."

Yep. That's definitely in economy seating, and despite expecting it, he is gutted.

He must look it too, because she reaches out and squeezes his forearm.

"It's ok, Castle, I'll probably be sleeping the whole flight anyway." She gives him a smile, and he returns it, but the enthusiasm isn't there. "I'll see you when the plane lands?" she murmurs, shyness lacing her voice with the addition. He picks up at that, nods his head a little too hard but he can't seem to care.

The heat from her hand is still running through him, or is it his body reacting to her statement? When the plane lands. Surely that's a good sign right?

They stand up and board the plane together, he stays in the economy class line even though it takes him a little longer to get through. She sticks close to him until he reaches his seat, shoulders brushing as they walk through the tunnel to reach the place. They reach his seat and she hovers, so he places his bag down and turns to her, shuffling them into the space between the seats so other people can pass.

"I- uh… Have a good flight, Kate," he says, fumbling on his words as he tries to extend their time together.

She smiles up at him, and then stands on her toes to brush that smile to his cheek.

Oh. His heart is flipping, fluttering, and he doesn't think he's ever been this undone by a cheek kiss before. The warmth from her lips lingers on his face, and he has to exhale loudly to remember to breathe.

She laughs quietly, and then spins to walk down to the economy section. "See you later, Castle."

The plane ride was quick in the end. He slept most of the way as well, so he can't be too disappointed in not getting to sit next to Kate. He got up to use the bathroom once, and conveniently chose the one at the back of the plane, forcing himself to walk past her.

She was sleeping, her face slack, hands clasped, curled up on her legs. She looked peaceful, adorable, and his brain took off into scenarios of her sleeping next to him, his arm wrapped around her stomach and his lips pressed to her neck. He made himself to keep walking, tried - and failed - to ignore the voice in his head that was telling him he's an idiot for falling for this girl so soon.

He waits outside the gate once he's exited the plane - he was one of the first off, of course - but is now itching with anticipation, scared he's already missed her walk by with the crowd that is coming out of the door.

He shifts his eyes to his watch and back again, and oh, there she is.

She flashes him a smile as she walks out, quickens her pace to head over to him, and his heart picks up, erratic and excited. Thank God, he thinks, and returns her smile, can't even hold it in.

"How was your flight?" he asks, making sure his voice is calm despite every part of him being very not calm.

"Probably not as good as yours, being in first class and all," she teases. "But no, it was fine, I slept the whole time."

"Yeah, me too." He can't stop smiling at her, can't keep his eyes off her, so glad she's still here. It's ridiculous how smitten he is, feels like a teenager with a crush. He doesn't know what else to say now though - the loud ask for her number in his head is not helping - so he gestures forward and they start walking side by side towards the exit.

"Do you have any checked baggage?" she asks, and he shakes his head. "Me either."

Their fingers brush as they walk, and he envisions a time in the future where he can walk hand in hand with Kate, fingers locked and palms kissing. He doesn't even know her last name, and maybe he should find that out before he starts picking out engagement rings.

"Are you catching a taxi home?" he questions.

"Yep," she replies, her head nodding. It's awkward, this small talk, they can't really delve into interesting, longer conversations, but he doesn't want her to leave just yet. Or ever.

They reach the line of taxis, and the dread of leaving her has escalated, a big flashing alarm going off in his brain, warning him not to let her go.

"Well, Detective Kate, thank you. I would never have thought a delayed flight could be such a pleasure." He smiles at her, extends his hand for her to shake.

She bites her lip, looks down, and grabs his hand. Electricity spreads through his body as their palms meet, touching her is so exhilarating, enticing, and he doesn't want to let go.

He squeezes her hand tighter, feels her rub her thumb across the back of his hand. Their eyes meet and he can't help but stare, flicks his gaze down to her mouth in time to see her tongue dart out to wet her bottom lip.

God, he wants to kiss her.

He's about to go for it, but before he can move she stretches her body up, rises on her toes, and releases their clasped hands to grab his collar, then pulls him down to brush her lips to his.

His mind is swimming, all his thoughts gone, replaced with nothing but the feeling of Kate's lips on his, soft and satin, so enticing. He wraps his arms around her lower back, and groans into her mouth, both relief and arousal coursing through his veins. Pulling her closer, he sucks on her bottom lip, his body weak with the feel of her mouth and hands and her. Kate moves her hand to the back of his head, tangling with the strands as her lips continue to make his mind swim and his heart throb.

She slows the kiss, breaks away before it becomes too heated, but stays close, and traces her arm down his neck, to rest on his shoulder. She looks a little in shock, a little nervous, like she can't believe she just did that, but her breathing is heavy and he hopes she's just as amazed as he is.

"Wow," he breathes.

"Yeah," she husks, then sucks her lips into her mouth.

She's killing him.

She steps back an inch, to put some air between them, but keeps her arm anchored to his.

Space is probably a good idea, because if she stays close he'll have to kiss her again.

She slides her hand down his arm, tangles her fingers with his, giving a quick squeeze before reaching into her bag. She fumbles through it, pulls out a small card, hands it to him. It's her business card. With her number.

Detective Kate Beckett.

Oh he likes the sound of her full name.

Likes her.

"Call me?" she asks, her voice wavering. "I mean, I've had a good time, tonight- uh- this morning. I… needed this. Something fun. And I think, it could be more fun, to see you when we aren't sleep deprived?"

He smiles and steps forward, brushes his lips over hers for one more taste. He pulls away and she sighs. Oh, he could get used to this.

"Definitely," he says, grinning, his body elated, on a high from her.

Kate sinks her teeth into her bottom lip again, looking up at him with what he interprets as excitement, anticipation, and he mirrors it back. She walks backwards for two steps and then spins, giving him a wave before she climbs into the next available cab.

He's left there clutching her card tight, the taste of her still on his lips.

Best flight ever.

A/N: Thanks to my betas :)

Thank you for reading

twitter: ivyandtwines

tumblr: ivyandtwines