So I am way late to the whole Castle party, but since the beginning of last week I've watched the first season right through to almost up to the end of season 3. While a part of me can't believe I haven't been watching it before, I'm also pretty glad that I haven't had to wait each week for a new episode; the stress would have been too much, for sure!

Part One

The knocking is reasonable at first, or as reasonable as somebody knocking on your door at nearly eleven thirty at night can be, but it quickly escalates into hammering. Although it seems unlikely that a psychopathic murderer would announce his or her presence with a knock on her front door, she still grabs her gun; it's late and it is New York City, after all.

She realizes as soon as she opens her door that her fears were unfounded. There's only one man stupid enough to knock on her door so late with no thought to her possible reaction, or overreaction, and the fact that she has a gun.

"Castle," she says, resting her gun on the table at the side of her door.

"Evening, Beckett!"

Castle greets her cheerily, grinning as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. He's dressed in a tux although she can't remember him mentioning any particular special event on tonight.

She stares at him stonily.

"Castle," she hisses. "What are you doing here? I was about to go to bed."

"Is that an invitation, Detective?" He teases.

"No," she snaps, glaring. "What do you want?"

Smiling, he pulls a bottle from behind his back and raises his eyebrows.

"A little help?" He suggests. "In drinking this?"

She eyes the champagne in his hand disdainfully.

"Been to a party?" She asks irritably, thinking of her own night in with leftover Chinese food and a re-run of a 90s sitcom she's already forgotten the name of.

"Just a little gathering with the mayor. Nothing too fancy."

"How nice for you."

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" He questions.

"No," she replies.

In response he simply steps inside anyway, neatly avoiding her hand as she reaches out to stop him.

"Castle," Beckett says, still holding her door open and looking unimpressed. "Get out. Now."

"But then who will help me drink this?" He asks, as if that's a legitimate question.

He's swaying ever so slightly on the spot.

"You're drunk," Beckett says, realization dawning.

"Might have had a few already," he agrees. "You've got some catching up to do, Beckett."

As if she invited him in, he saunters down her hallway and into her living room.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" He calls over his shoulder to her.

Furious, she shuts her front door with more of a slam than she intended; hopefully none of the neighbors heard. She follows him, glowering now, at the sheer nerve of his actions. How dare he?

"In case it's slipped your mind, I can arrest you. Do you want to add breaking and entering to that little list on your police record?"

"I didn't break, I just entered," he says, grinning.

"Technicality," Kate says shortly.

"So arrest me, Detective. We could play with your handcuffs."

Beckett rolls her eyes in disgust at his implication, although secretly she feels her stomach dip at the suggestion, at the idea…

"What exactly were you expecting, Castle?" Beckett asks disbelievingly. "For me to get changed into my sexiest underwear and invite you into my bedroom?"

"Well that would be a start," Castle murmurs, taking a step towards her.

In response Beckett takes a step back, keeping a safe distance between them. It suddenly seems imperative that she keep at least three feet between them, preferably five.

"Come on, Kate," he says coaxingly, and the surprise of hearing him use her first name gives her a strange thrill. "At least help me drink this champagne?"

He holds up the bottle in his right hand.

"Is that what it's going to take to get you to leave?" She demands, feigning irritation.

"Yes. I'll leave once it's finished, scout's honor," he tells her solemnly, holding up his hand.

"Fine," Kate relents, although secretly she's rather please he's staying. "Open the bottle."

She gets two wine glasses from her kitchen and places them on the coffee table next to the bottle.

"Sorry, looks like all my champagne flutes are in the dishwasher," she quips.

"Wine glasses are fine. So how have you been spending your Friday evening?"

"I'm not sure I can top a party with the mayor," she says, to avoid having to answer his question.

"Don't worry, I'm here now. We can have a little fun."

"Oh, and I suppose you think you're the most exciting thing in my life, do you, Castle?" She asks, rolling her eyes at his arrogance.

"Come on, Detective, I know you're only feigning exasperation to hide your obvious desire for me. Why not give in?"

She laughs derisively at this, although perhaps it hits home more than he realizes.

"You wish, Castle."

"Why can't you just admit it, Kate?"

She swallows, hesitates. "Okay," she says softly. "I want you."

"What?" Castle's mouth drops open as he stares at her.

Kate feels a smile tug at her lips at this reaction, at his shock and inability to form his usual ever-ready quick and witty answer.

"What's the matter, Castle?" She teases, her voice low and husky now. "Cat got your tongue? I thought that's what you wanted to hear."

Recovering his composure, his says quickly, a smile forming as he does so, "It was. I mean, it is…"

Kate steps closer, until they're standing close enough to feel the heat emanating from each other's bodies. His eyes flicker to her lips and he reaches up a hand to rest it on her waist, on her hip. Her shirt feels thin under his finger, flimsy and insubstantial enough that he thinks he can almost feel her skin through it, although that might be his overactive imagination racing ahead, filling in blanks with things he has imagined time and time again. She leans in, nearer and nearer to his face, and he thinks she is going to kiss him, but instead she leans past his face to his ear. Her hair, soft and silky, is against his face, the faint scent of the shampoo she used this morning easily detectable at such a close range; cherries. He can feel her breath too, warm against his ear and neck, a light caress.

"This is what you want?" She asks again and he nods, unable to speak.

"Too bad I was kidding then," she whispers in his ear.

Just as before, this causes his jaw to drop as Beckett steps neatly away from him.

"Shall we open the champagne?" She suggests, smiling lightly as if nothing has just happened.

Flustered, Castle picks up the bottle and opens it. Usually he is the one teasing her and he is not as used to having their roles reversed.

She smiles at him as she takes a sip from her wine glass. She's playing it cool, but there's a dull ache somewhere in her middle that's been steadily growing since Castle got here. No, since long before tonight, it's been growing stronger and stronger every day, every time she catches him staring at her, all the cases she wouldn't have been able to solve without him, all the unexpectedly sweet and thoughtful things that make up the times in-between him being a smart ass.

She wishes she was as brave as he thought she was. If she were then maybe she might actually do something. Say something.

But she's not sure she's everything he thinks she is. Not at all.

So at the moment the plan is for this to have a second part, although from what I've already written for part 2 it may end up having a third part. Anyway, reviews would be appreciated…rather anxious about writing a Castle fic! Thanks for reading!