Pre epi/speculation fic for 8x07. Contains spoilers. Inspired by pics, promo, and press releases.


Hayley's eyes are wide as they both catch on and she's up on her feet yelling, "Beckett?" just as Kate is sitting up.

"I got it," she calls, before vaulting the bed and kicking off the slippers that have barely been on her feet for half an hour.

The guy stops dead long enough only to blink before taking off in a run.

Up and after him as Hayley yells about doubling around behind, Beckett leaps into action.

Shouting freeze and NYPD do nothing.

She's chasing down a murder suspect in a Spa, undercover as a soon to be divorcee - which in and of itself is just ridiculous, that's the last thing she wants to be - and now she's kicking off flannel slippers and trying not to fall flat on her face.

It's insane.

It's stupid.

It's improbable.

It's ... kinda funny.

If her partner were here, the puns would be flying left right and center. Castle would be in his element. Enjoying every second. Making jokes and stealing glances at her scantily clad body. Making promises and cashing in on them later.

But he's not.

She veers right and slips by the sauna, dampness and speed nearly taking her feet out from under her. She catches herself on the wall and, aside from determining which direction her suspect took off in, the first thing that springs to mind is that - once again - there's no steadying hand on her shoulder.

It's disheartening. Discombobulating.

No Castle as her back up.

She misses him.

It stings.

She shakes it off - tries anyway, pushes it down - and keeps running, loops the serenity pool and inhales the overlaying scent of cucumber and mint foot rub. Her feet really do skid out from under her this time, and she turns at the last second to hear a door close behind her, see the end of her tightly wrapped - yet, now flapping behind her like a cape - towel disappear through it.

The door slams shut.

The momentum drags her back and she catches herself just before she slams face first into it.

Huffing her now bedraggled hair from her eyes, Kate growls, low and heavy under her breath, grabbing the handle and yanking with all her pent up frustration.

It doesn't budge.

Again, and nothing.

Again, and the towel - now firmly attached to the door - slides a little lower.

In the distance she hears footsteps - hears Hayley's voice as she continues in pursuit and Kate yanks harder trying to free herself, to help the other woman and get on with her job. She yanks too hard and the towel comes away completely, the force of her movement throwing Kate backwards, out into the path of something, someone, who catches her with an oomph.

"Kate?"

"Castle?"

"You're naked."

"What are you doing here?"

They speak at the same time and she can't help but smile, even as her mind buzzes with a million questions and her body hums with the feel of his fingers on her skin.

His hands are on her shoulders, palms spread wide to steady her, fingertips reaching almost to her shoulder blades, and hers are on his chest.

Their eyes meet and they stare.

It's the first time they've touched in awhile, weeks maybe, and the electricity of it has her holding back the shiver that threatens to race over her flesh. His hands are warm, touch fleeting and he's almost immediately pulling away, his grip on her shoulders gone before she can truly relish the pitiful contact.

She bites back a moan, and instead throws herself back into reality.

He's fully clothed, coat and all, and it's only when she takes in her surroundings that Kate realises, in her single minded pursuit of their suspect, she has run directly into the men's locker room.

She glances up, and though his eyes won't meet hers now, his expression tells her everything else she needs to know. He's clearly here to do a little undercover work of his own.

Castle's slipping his arms out of the sleeves and removing his coat, offering it up to her before she's even thought to ask. The simple gesture holding far more meaning and significance than she's prepared for. It comes over her like a wave, missing him this fierce thing that crashes down hard upon her when he smiles, unknowingly, and waits for her to step into him.

"Don't worry, Beckett, I'm averting my eyes," he swears, gaze downcast as she slips her arms into the sleeves.

She scoffs, turns, dips under and into his field of vision, "What for? It's not as if you haven't seen it all already."

Vividly, close up and in detail. They both know he's memorized every inch of her body well enough to describe each nook and cranny to a sketch artist.

He laughs, remembering a time long ago when they were in a similar situation. On a case, terrified of explosions, a very naked detective in need of towels in his arms and causing his heart to pound. Not unlike now. "That's not what you said last time," he reminds her.

"Yeah, well, last time we weren't married." She grins but it falls away immediately as the light in his eyes dims, fading to nothing, sadness a mask that he fails to shake off as it settles over his features.

"Yeah," he almost whispers in response. Clearing his voice as she starts to button Castle attempts to step back. Away from her.

She cannot let the moment pass and watch him suffer any longer. It's her fault and it's killing them both.

"I've been thinking about what you said," she starts, swallowing hard and stepping into the distance he's attempting to put between them. Distance she asked for. Distance she can no longer abide. "About our anniversary and not wanting to spend the day apart?"

He nods, not daring to hope but she can see how close he is to leaping off the edge of that cliff at the slightest nudge from her.

"I'd like that too." She stutters, can't find a way to make it mean quite what she wants it too, "To be with you, on that day. Together."

His eyes light up and one hand moves, almost skims her cheek but he restrains it. The phantom of his touch is almost enough though. Almost enough to have her tipping into him and reaching for his face with both hands.

Her breath races free.

"I'd like that." He nods, catching the fall of her eyes as they flit low to his lips and up before she nods too.

"I think we should talk."

"I'd like that more." His eyes are wide and there is barely a heartbeat between them now. Hands reaching, not quite touching.

"About u-"

"Did you lose something?" Hayley appears, grinning, cuffed suspect marching in front of her, eyes roaming over the coat that now covers Kate's body and the hands that hover between them. "Am I interrupting?" Hayley asks, smile wide and accent adding weight to the sarcasm in her tone.

"Yeah." Castle almost yells, whilst Kate's barely there yes slithers away, leaving hot trails of want and longing over her lips.

"Bloody hell," Hayley shakes her head, near rolls her eyes at the pair of them. "Well, I got him," She grins, tugging her towel back into a more comfortable position, "we can head back and you two can continue with whatever you were doing later."

Castle sighs, almost lets it go, "One question."

Kate laughs, accepting the phone that Castle offers, speed dialing Esposito, knowing what comes next before the words exit her husband's mouth.

"Where were you hiding the cuffs?"