A/N: For the ladies on twitter who just...I don't even know. Your minds are filth, your brains are whip-crack fast and you make me laugh so very much. I hug you.
"What do you think?" He asked turning on the spot so she could get a better look at his costume. She gulped hard, the skin tight leather pants drew her eyes down low and they widened appreciatively.
"Is that your sword or are you just happy to see me?" She snorted, raised her eyebrows and bit back the urge to launch herself at him.
"What?"
One hand palmed the taut curve of his very visible ass, sliding to the front of his pants."It's a bit tight, Castle."
"Really?"
"Yes. One good thrust-" She winked and her eyes dropped to his crotch, "- or parry and you'd have someones eye out."
He squinted in confusion, "What's with the sword euphemism?"
"It's the costume." She looked him up and down, licked her lips and stepped in closer, "You're all swashbuckling and devil may care. Why? Would you prefer something else? Want me to wax lyrical about your baton?" She dragged her hand across his chest fluffing the ruffles of his shirt. "I could peel your banana but you'd have to dress like King Kong...ooooh." Her eyes lit up and she rolled her body into his.
He shook his head, sensing the badness of the coming innuendo. "Don't."
She pouted, "Fine. No King Kong Dong jokes." She grinned and he laughed even though it was awful. Worse than he had expected, but she just carried on. "We could play with your joystick? Hoist the mainsail? Let loose your battering ram or bayonet, but then we are back to swords again."
He pulled her into him, their chests colliding hard and she moaned. "So many code words, so little time."
"Can't see the Wood for the trees." She squeezed, "Can certainly feel it though."
He caught her wrist, pulled her closer still. "I'm a writer I'd go with pen."
Her other hand slipped lower, "Because it's mightier than the sword?"
"It carries a certain weight."
"Oh I know." She grinned. "You slay me with your...words. They leave me weak at the knees."
"And there is a very dirty ink joke in here somewhere." His lips opened against her neck.
She laughed, "That's gross."
"Gives a whole new meaning to writing you a love letter."
"You're not 'writing' on me with that kind of ink."
"I didn't say on you, I meant to you." He grinned lasciviously, "You have a very dirty mind."
"And you have a very dirty...everything. Take this off." Her fingers wrapped around his belt, unbuckling as she growled against his neck.
"We're supposed to be getting ready for the party." He thumbed the snap on her jeans anyway, leaning closer to breathe her in, "God, you smell divine." His tongue swirled across her pulse.
"You're not so bad yourself." She shoved aside his ruffled shirt, inhaling across his collarbone, tangling her fingers in the soft hair low on his abdomen. Teeth nipping and hands searching she inhaled again, like a woman possessed. "You smell like-"
"Apples." He yelped.
She laughed, "No, but oh look, I've found a tree." Her hands caressed him, "Time to pick some fruit."
She zeroed in, aiming to claim his lips, but his eyes sparkled mischievously and she smirked when he growled, "Do what you must, just don't bruise the berries."
