A/N: So, ever thought of the morning after? Yeah, me too. Here's my take on it. Beckett's POV. Slight spoilers for 'Always', 'Embarrassment of the B*itches' and 'Demons'. Ignoring intentionally spoilers for 'After the Storm'. Rated M.

Feedback is most welcomed! :)

DISCLAIMER:I don't own Castle.

Quite the Keeper

I came to you last night. Soaked to the bone. I know you weren't expecting to see me. That you probably didn't want to see me. But there I was standing in front of you with an open heart and here I am now, sitting in your kitchen. The morning after. You are dressed only in your robe and I know that you're naked underneath. My heart is diving in bashful happiness. And you - you look so handsome. Your hair is still tousled and a quiet calm shows in your face. You stand near the counter, brewing coffee. The rich smell teases my nostrils, and it's a welcoming, sobering feeling.

"There's something you need to know," I utter out of blue.

You turn to me just barely.

"Should I be worried?" you ask, opening the sideboard.

"Perhaps," I whisper.

Your brow creases. I have your full attention now. "Go on," you say.

"It doesn't concern you directly but after last night," I pause and flush, "I guess it's only fair to tell you."

"What happened?" your voice is impatient. How can I blame you?

"I quit my job," I look at you with guilty eyes without really knowing where the sudden guilt comes from.

"What?" you try to hide that you're shocked. I can see that. But you have to understand – it doesn't hold the importance it did.

I nod slightly.

"Why?" you ask after a moment of silence.

"Oh, Castle. I think you know why," I look at my restless hands, clutched tightly together to hide how screwed up I am.

"I stopped pretending that I know you, Beckett," you look at me with a resignation in your eyes. I lower my head. It's amazing how your own words can get back at you. You don't known me, Castle. You think you do, but you don't.

"Help me understand, Kate," you demand after my deafening secrecy.

I sigh deeply. "You got it right the first time we met," I finally reply. A weak smile crosses my face as I remember your boyish face telling me why I joined the police. You had options, better options. More socially acceptable options. And you still chose this. That tells me something happened. Not to you, you're wounded, but you're not that wounded. It was someone you cared about. It was someone you loved. And you probably could have lived with that, but the person responsible was never caught. And, that Detective Beckett, is whyyou're here. You cut into me so deep that day. I may have not recovered fully, yet.

"I know what I said, Beckett. I mentally slapped myself many times for being such a jackass that day," your voice is sincere but firm. You want answers.

"Wiseass," I mutter and your eyes widen.

"Wiseass," you repeat and the features on your face soften. "Why did you quit?"

You sit down at the table and your hands find mine. The feeling is reassuring and the words just come out of me. "Gates put me on administrative leave effective immediately." I look at you but you're impassive.

"You don't just quit, Kate," your eyes bore into me.

I can't look back at you. You're right. I have a compulsive obsessive disorder. I don't just quit. But I did. "I need to move on, Castle," I say slowly.

You're silent, assessing me in a way that scares me. Your hands leave mine.

"Say something," I plead and lean against my own palm.

Your lips thin, "I know you have your reasons." Your jaw relaxes slightly but you won't give up. "And if you don't want to tell me…"

Guilt sets in my chest. If I don't trust you now when will I? "Because if I can't work on my mother's case than there's nothing for me there," my voice tightens at the last words. It is the truth and it shouldn't be news to you.

You press your lips even tighter together. Your eyes close and your head shakes slightly.

"What?" Sometimes I can't tell what you're thinking.

"That's one of the reasons you chose this job. But Beckett you grew out of it, can't you see it?"

No, I can't see it. "Castle," I want to tell you that you're wrong but you cut me off.

"Are you telling me that you don't care about the victims? That you don't live for those moments when you are able to bring some closure to a friend or relative?" you emphasize the last word knowing the effect it has on me and look directly into my uncertain eyes.

I'm at a loss of words. I stare at the wood under my hand and slowly glide my hand over the smooth surface. Why is it that reality kicks in only the morning after?

I swallow hard. "You know I do."

You lean back into your chair. "You really want my opinion?"

"Yes," I reply and look into your eyes.

You smile lightly. "Knowing how hot-headed you are, you probably didn't think it through. I think that when Gates suspended you, you threw your badge in front of her and stormed out." You tilt your head to one side. "Tell me I'm wrong."

You are not wrong. You rarely are. I run my fingers through my hair. "You think I should go back."

"I think you have all your options still open. You're an excellent detective. Gates won't let you go that easily. Although, she'd be very happy to get rid of me," there's the familiar offended tone in your voice.

I smile at you. You are very good at decompressing.

"Listen," you lean closer to me. "All I'm saying is...give yourself a little time. And if you decide that you don't want to be a detective, anymore, so be it. I'll support you either way…not that you need my…support." You pause and I know something utterly irritating will come out of your mouth. "Besides, it's your life, Beckett. You made that clear to me."

I cock my head. Really, Castle? After a night like this? I look into your eyes. "It's not only mine, anymore."

I can tell you didn't see it coming. You stare at me and have no idea how to respond. You're probably contemplating whether it's truth or lie. I guess I really am maddening sometimes.

"I'm not playing head games with you, Castle. Not on something like this."

Your mouth closes slowly. Wow, I've really made you speechless. My lips quirk up.

"You'll be the end of me," you say quietly and get up.

I follow you with my gaze, "Where are you going?"

"Coffee's getting cold, Detective," you clench your teeth at the word. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Castle," I smile inwardly. "I'll always be your Detective."

You turn to me and your stare envelopes me. A shiver runs up my neck. It is ridiculous how you affect me. Your hand grabs the coffee pot and you pour the hot black liquid in the cup in front of me. You fetch some cookies, bread, butter and honey, too. No time for a brunch since your mother and Alexis are expected to be home in only hours.

"Eat, woman," you say in an exaggerated voice.

I stifle a laugh and take a sip of the fragrance that incited my senses just minutes ago. And suddenly I remember all the mornings you brought me this unique beverage. So thoughtful, so you. As I contemplate your little good deeds you dive right in the middle of the cookie jar and grab two cookies out of it. I chuckle at your childish behavior.

"What?" your voice is muffled, mouth full of sweet flavor.

You swallow down the rich medley texture and run your hand through your hair. You look disturbingly sexy and the fact that you're wearing only your robe isn't helping either.

"Are you staring at me, Beckett?" Your brow curls up.

I smile at you, "Yes." I'm sure my eyes are shining right now.

"What am I going to do with you?!" you sound exasperated but I know better, much better.

I bite into my buttered bread with honey on top. It tastes so sweet, probably more than those hailed cookies of yours. Why is it that with you everything is so much tastier, richer, more colorful?

You extend your arm and wipe a drop of honey off my chin. It's a brief touch but I can feel my skin prickle when it's gone.

"You should punish me, Castle," I say with a challenge in my eyes and your mouth opens in disbelief. I'm good at reading you, too, you know.

You swallow hard. "I could think of a few ways," you say. Your voice is low, threatening and I can feel the muscles in my belly contract. My eyes darken at the thought and I can only imagine the things you would do to me. Your eyes get dim and somehow last night seems a weak testament to your endless imagination.

I look at the cup of coffee in front of me, into that pool of darkness that was once accused of being a heretical substance. I have the feeling that my eyes mirror the same blackness. You do that to me. You find a way to that dark part of my soul that wants to be wicked, seductive and daring all at the same time. I have been afraid of that part of me but with you I want to explore it.

"Promises," I whisper huskily and your eyes widen at me.

You get up abruptly. The bread in my hand drops to the table and the honey glues to the table. My heart sets a thumping rhythm in my chest instantly. Your eyes are dark, unreadable. I feel I've started something I cannot control. Fears creeps up my chest.

"You're coming with me," you say and I know it's not negotiable. You grab me by my waist and legs. Your strong arms have me in your lap in no time. I'm barely holding it together. I clutch at your shoulders desperately. Fear and lust are a potent mix I've never been able to handle too well.

"Castle," it comes out as a warning but you don't listen to me. You're miles away, in a world I know so little about.

You throw me on the bed and I wince. My ribs are still sore.

"Stay still," you command. No apology for the harsh landing on silken sheets. There has been enough apologizing last night. I squeeze the gentle fabric under my hands and my body stills.

You loose your robe and stare at me. You are stark naked. A lump forms in my throat and it's exquisite. I want you.

You lie between my legs and kiss my neck. I sigh deeply when your mouth grazes my skin and your lips curl into a smile.

"Take off your shirt," you order and I reach for the hem. It's removed in one swift motion. My naked chest heaves in front of you. I'm absurdly flushed. There's no pretending, no hiding. Just the two of us in our all-consuming need.

You break eye contact first and kiss my jaw. You trail soft kisses down my neck and to the side, under my ears. I'm already panting and then you stop. I move slightly my head only to see you looking between my breasts. You're still mesmerized by it. I want to tell you it's just a scar but I know how untrue it would be. You plant a chaste kiss over it. It's become your private place of worship.

You rest your head against my chest and embrace my body. My breathing calms. The wicked side of the soul will have to wait.

"I thought we were done for good this time," you whisper against my skin.

I close my eyes, "I know."

"You can be so unbending sometimes."

I press my lips. Unbending, cross-grained, mulish. It's the way I am. "You said it, Castle. I'm the most frustrating person."

"I've said other things, too," you look up at me. I can't bare the look on your face.

"Say them again," it's a whisper and I'm shocked at how openly I respond to you.

Your body shifts and you lie flat against me. You're careful not to crush my aching ribs. You look into my eyes as if you could see my soul in them. Your mouth is just inches apart from mine and I can feel our breath mingle.

"Katherine Beckett," you brush your lips against mine, "I think you're the most…" you plant a moist kiss on my left cheek, "remarkable…" you smooch my right cheek, "maddening…" you kiss my lips now and I moan, "challenging…" my lips part to accept your tongue, "exciting…" you slide your tongue over mine and we both groan, "smart…" you're breathing hard, too, "sexy…" your hips push into me and it's almost unbearable, "sophisticated …" you break the kiss and look at me, "person I have ever met."

I want you inside me that very moment. "Castle."

"I can feel it, Kate," you press against me and I moan, "but I have something else in mind."

I pant heavily. I'm not sure I'll be able to take it much longer. "I need to come," I say urgently.

You're eyes widen at me, "Hush, Beckett. You'll spoil all the fun."

I don't know what you mean by fun until you produce a black tie from somewhere and reach for my hands.

"What are you're doing?" I must sound alarmed.

"I'm tying your hands," your voice is raw but controlled.

I gape. Your deft hands tie me without much effort. "Keep'em above your head. No moving," you order in a gentle tone.

Your eyes look down at me and I swallow hard. I cannot decide if I'm that scared or that excited. Something inside me wants to explode because of all the conflicting emotions.

"Breathe," you say gently, "we'll take it on your terms."

"Oh, God," I groan. My terms. I feel groggy. I'm not sure I have any.

You smile, "You're beautiful."

I want to respond but your hands are already running over my bent arms, down to my sides and over my hips. Your touch is so gentle, soothing.

"We can stop anytime you want," you murmur but I'm already melting under your hands.

"No," I whisper huskily and you look up at me. No stopping, Rick. Not anymore.

You take a deep breath. I can feel how affected you are. And I understand – I'm letting you take control. My tied hands reach for your face and I graze your cheeks with my fingers. Heat and smoothness, that's all I can feel. You stare into my eyes. So much is exchanged without words between us. And then you move and push my hands back above my head. I swallow, again. No moving.

"I love your body," you whisper and your fingers roam to my chest. You're gentle as ever but there's also firmness in your touch that makes me wonder. How far can you push me before I lose it?

Your hands slide between my breasts. I close my eyes, this is so exquisite. And then you cup them both and run your thumbs over the hard peeks. I love it when you do that. I press harder into your palms but you withdraw your hands.

"No," I groan and open my eyes.

"No?" you are amused.

I'm all flushed and panting, "Don't stop." I'm bursting with desire.

"Stop moving then," you say casually and take a pull at my nipple. The sensation shoots through me so unexpectedly that I whimper in the wake of it. Seeing me, you just can't stop. Your fingers tear and pull at my flesh until I cannot take it anymore. My muscles begin to stiffen, my mind is so far gone that I might never find it again. My hands squeeze whatever they find. And, oh, God, you stop abruptly.

I can barely focus. I need release so badly. "Castle, please."

Your breathing is controlled but your eyes are hooded. Desire swings both ways, my love. Your strong arms grab my hips and you lean closer to my belly. My muscles twitch when hot blows of air make contact with flushed skin. My head falls back into the soft pillow. Your tongue traces the line of my ribs, causing a wet line that sends shivers up my spine. My mouth drops open, air bursts out of my lungs.

Your lips graze my sensitive skin and plant soft, wet kisses all over my abdomen. You're feasting on my flesh. The feeling is delicious. And I find myself lose scope, sense, reason. My hands have plans of their own. They reach for your head and my fingers curl into your hair. They push you downwards.

I hear you gasp and I blush a crimson red. I have never begged so much for a man's touch. Screw the tie that makes it impossible to touch you as I would like to.

You shift then, trapping my hands against my chest. Your body is hovering above mine. My nerve endings sing with the heat it emanates. You brush your lips against mine. I cannot but think that this is how love feels. The thought comes into my mind unexpected and tears brim in my eyes. What am I doing? There was enough crying last night.

You lean your forehead against mine. "It's okay, Kate," you whisper and your soft lips kiss away my tears.

The way you say my name...it's sobering and tender. I kiss the tip of your thumb and you dip it into my mouth. My tongue runs over it and I suck it deeper into my mouth. I can feel the saltiness of my own tears.

Your eyes grow darker with desire and I marvel at the thought that it is my doing. "I'm yours, Castle." My voice bears a dark color, daring you to take things further into the unknown.

You growl at me, "I want to taste you."

And it's beyond me – the muscles in my belly pull low. You want to taste me. You say it as if I'm your favorite meal. I swallow and stare down at you. Your hands are already parting my thighs. Your eyes are dark with desire. You hover above my sex and I can feel my heartbeat quicken.

"Castle," I gasp when you blow on my heated skin. The air in my throat wants to burst out.

"Yes?" you look up at me as your lips make contact with the delicate skin. My head falls back. You're gentle, there's no hurry in your moves.

I respond with a moan and bury my head deeper into the pillow. You always had this power over me that I cannot begin to understand. One innocuous touch and I'm far gone. And I know that you aware of it. You couldn't have really missed how I responded when you rubbed the back of my hand to show me how that dog Royal liked to be rubbed. Or when I asked you to give my legs a push and you conveniently ignored it and pushed at something else. You make it clear that you're skillful and the things you are doing to me right now rake my body with utter pleasure. I see bolts of lights when I close my eyes. My body arches, aches for more, pleads for release. My pulse is dangerously high, my mind racing to a point I could never reach alone. Not like this.

You're the sin I will never repent for.

"Kate?"

My hands want to grasp at something but they are tied tightly together. There's no leverage I can find, not when you have me exposed like this.

"Kate, are you okay?"

You say it with such concern that I have to open my eyes. I can barely focus.

"Say something," you plead.

My eyes are hooded, glittering too. And then I see what you mean. I am impossibly bent, my head is jammed into the pillow and my hands are trying to disentangle from the tie. I'm trembling from all that's boiling inside of me.

"Please, don't stop." It's all I can say. My muscles relax slightly, my back falls to the bed. I can see your concern has gone to sheer bewilderment.

"Castle, please," I'm the one who's pleading now.

You shift and move between my legs, lifting first my hips and then my back. I want to ask you what the hell it is that you are doing but you grab my hands and pull me up. My breasts bump into your chest and I gasp. I'm reaching that point when I could come from pressure alone. We're sitting on your bed. My legs are wounded around your hips. You reach for my hands and untie them. Your thumbs massage my wrists with such care.

"You make me fear for you, Kate," you whisper against my lips.

I don't know how to respond to that. My hair is cascading down your face, shielding us both from the harm that waits out there. Your lips graze at mine and I close my eyes. There's this pull between us, this incredible bond that comes from respect and partnership.

"Don't be afraid," I whisper after few blissful moments of intimacy.

And you lean your forehead against mine. How stupid was I to think that it was just physical attraction you were after? You fix my hair behind my ear and look into my eyes. I swallow. The emotional tension is always heavier that the sexual one. It feels like you're learning me, reading me, pilling the over-hailed layers off of me.

"I love you, Rick."

It comes out as a surprise even for me. And it is clearly a shock for you. Your eyes are wide, your mouth open. My hand leaves your shoulder to trace the line of your brow, your jaw. My fingers brush your speechless lips.

"Don't look so scared," I say softly.

Your lips curl up at the ridges and a chuckle escapes them. You look down and I run my fingers through your hair.

"Look at me," I say gently.

You hesitate for a moment but then you look up. Your eyes are full of tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks.

My heart wants to die from the knowledge that I caused you all this pain. "Oh, my God, Rick. I'm so sorry. So sorry…" my voice fades away while my fingers hurry to wipe away the salty liquid. I don't want to see you so vulnerable. You're Rick Castle, a nine-year-old on a sugar rush…incapable of taking anything seriously.

I'm planting gentle kisses on your eyes, nose, cheeks, on your beautiful jaw. I won't let sadness take over us. We've had enough of that. But then you surprise me again. You laugh heartily, your face lightens up and your eyes sparkle behind bitter tears. I try to make sense of it but fail miserably.

"Look at us, Kate," you say through sobs.

"What?" I ask only half reassured.

"We can't make love without crying," you look at me with such simplicity and sincerity. Your face bears the innocence of a child. How do you do that?

My lips curl up as realization dawns on me. We're flawed, we'll make mistakes, we'll drive each other mad but as long as our hearts will be willing to love and forgive everything will be alright. It's a powerful realization and I feel the tension in my chest dissipate. I decide to let it all go. The fear of hurting you, the heavy and unwanted feeling of betrayal that never really happened. I laugh with you and it's like a ride to some beautiful peace that we'll discover together.

And then you grab my jaw. It's not grave but the suddenness of your gesture makes the laughter die instantly in my throat.

"Want to finish what we started?" your eyes are still teary but there are these little pools of dark want and excitement that are gathering up in them.

I knew you were a crazy breed but to learn that you can reach such depths… it's emotionally fulfilling. I nod, "Always."

You're moving away from me but I stop you. "No. I want you like this." I gesture at your hips below mine. You look down where our bodies are jammed together and you give me a wolfish grin. I want to hurt you for a moment for being so self-confident. But who am I kidding? I want you this way. Mischievous, creative, a bit conceited.

You grasp my hips firmly and your lips find mine. It's a heady feeling to be pressed flush against you. There are so many sensations running through me that I can't stop the quivering in my bones.

"It's almost unbearable, isn't it?" you whisper into my ear.

"Yes," I whisper back shyly, trying not to moan at your every touch.

You bite into my shoulder and I gasp. I know you're trying to make it real, mark me as yours. I share the same feelings. My nails deep into your shoulder blades and you groan.

Your hands roam over my back and down to my bottom. You move your head back a little and look at me. Your hips shift lightly and I respond in kind. The friction is so good that I start panting instantly.

"No fear," you say. "Only love."

And you're inside me. My mouth opens and loud groans fill the room. My head falls to your shoulder while you rock me to oblivion.

"Feel it, Kate," you whisper desperately into my ear. "Feel it."

I lift my head and whimper. I want to tell you that I feel it all. The rush, the closeness, the heat of your body inside me. The love above all. I'm melting against you, dissolving and shaping into something new.

"I love you so much," I whisper and put my arms around your neck, pressing my body harder into yours. I don't know what I want more. Come or stay like this forever.

The pressure does it for both of us. You cry out my name and I tremble with abandon, pressed tightly to you. Bones and muscles give in and you let me slide of off you. My bottom touches the solid mattress and soft sheets. But my hands won't let go of you.

My head is buried in the crook of your neck and I'm breathing heavily. High on all that you have given me. High on the realization that I could be happy – that I am happy.

You're holding me gently and I don't want to leave you ever again. Let the world wait, let this moment go on for a while.

"We'll have to move, eventually," you tease me.

I exhale loudly, "I don't know, Rick. There's only as much a woman can take." I look at your face and a broad smile greets me.

"Oh, don't be so content," I chide you.

"I see you're back and fully recovered."

Am I? My mind is full of all these powerful realizations and beautiful thoughts that I feel dazed. My muscles are not fully obeying me yet and my bones are limp. "I'm not sure."

You laugh again and pull me back against you. "I think I know what to do."

I only manage to ask 'what' when I find myself in your lap and getting up. You take me to the bathroom in your arms as if I was a little girl. With you maybe I am.

I look into your eyes, into that deep blue sea, and you smile at me. And I know – I know – that this will work out.