There really needs to be more stories where Castle tells Demming that yes, in fact, there is something going on between he and Beckett.


2x21 - Den of Thieves


"Castle, can I ask you something? You and Beckett, is there, uh, something going on?"

"Me and Beckett?"

"Yeah."

Castle stares at the robbery detective who Kate Beckett has seemed to take a vast interest in over the course of this case. He doesn't like it. Really does not like the way she looks at Demming, because he thought that running into a burning building to find her, shooting at a serial killer freakishly fixated on her, or hell, even laying down a hundred grand for just a shot at finding her mother's killer would have tipped her off that she's not just a conquest. Someone he can love and leave. She hasn't been that in a long time. Not since she told him about her mother's murder, when she let him see what really makes Kate tick.

No, she's much more now. So much more.

So Castle makes an impulse decision, probably a stupid one at that. His brain is screaming she's going to kill you, but he ignores it. He's not losing his chance with her. Sorry, Demming.

"Yeah, actually," he answers, hides his smug smile when the detective's shoulders slump. "But we're trying to keep it quiet, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah," Demming says, nodding. "I hope I didn't cross a line-"

"No, not at all. Thanks," Castle says, giving the detective a false smile. He's gotta admit, he respects the guy for asking. He also wonders what it says about he and Kate that the detective thinks there actually is something going on with the two of them.

"Sure. Not a problem," Demming says, standing up and shaking his hand as he leaves the room.


The entire case passes and Castle watches Demming carefully avoid Kate. He sees the growing confusion in her eyes, the questions. He wants to say he feels bad, because he knows she's interested in the robbery detective, but he really just can't.

He's trying to find her when he spots she and Demming talking in the break room. She's smiling softly, and then her expression completely changes and she doesn't say anything when the detective says goodbye.

Demming leaves her standing there alone and her eyes follow him as he strides towards the elevator to go back to the robbery floor. Castle watches the man leave for a second, eyes flicking back to Kate's.

Oh.

Oh.

She's glaring at him, all anger and confusion and she even looks a little hurt. He's sorry for that, didn't mean to hurt her, but she's just got to give him a minute to explain-

She's coming towards him. He's a dead man. She's pissed.

She pokes him in the chest - ow, Beckett - and is already firing questions at him.

"What the hell, Castle?"

"Kate, you've got to let me explain-"

"Yeah, you're damn right you've got to-"

"But not here. Can we go to the loft? Please?"

She huffs, brushes past him with a fine and he thinks he hears her mutter that she'll get away with murder a hell of a lot easier when they're not surrounded by cops anyways. He tries not to grin, but she's so hot when she's mad at him. Reminds him of when they first started working together and he would do everything he could to get her riled up.

He's still standing there when she grabs his sleeve and drags him to the elevator, not gently either. They climb into her Crown Vic and she doesn't speak to him the whole way home.


They get to the loft and she stalks into his office, knows he'll follow anyways. He shuts the door behind him, barely has time to take a breath before she's on him again.

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing!" he exclaims, which is stupid, because she obviously knows he did if her eyebrows shooting up is any indication. "Okay, fine. He may have asked if there was anything going on between me and you."

"And you said…" she prompts, waving her hands for him to continue.

He laughs lightly, humorless, because yep, she's going to kill him. Probably strangle him, because shooting him is a little too impersonal. She'll want him to suffer, he's sure of it.

"I, uh, may have told him yes?" It comes out as a question rather than a statement and he winces.

"Are you out of your mind?" She scrapes her fingers through her hair. He wants to run his hands through the strands instead. "So, what? You just couldn't handle my attention being on someone else so you had to go out of your way to sabotage my chance with a nice guy?"

He takes a step back at her words. He expected her to be mad, to threaten to shoot him at least, but he didn't expect that.

"Is that what you actually think?"

"What am I supposed to think?" she retorts, crossing her arms over chest.

"I don't know, Kate," he bites back, voice dark and full of venom, "I thought maybe after you almost died twice, after I ran into a burning building for you, you might see me as more than a womanizer trying to get into your pants-"

"Rick, I don't-"

"Then what?"

She's on him in an instant then, grabbing his face and pressing a bruising kiss to his mouth, breaking past the barrier of his lips with her tongue and jesus, Kate. He grabs her hips, driving her lower body into his and she gasps, breaking the kiss, but not going far.

She opens her eyes slowly, air coming out in short erratic breaths. His thumbs find their way onto her bare skin, rubbing the sharp angle of her hip bones lightly.

He drops his forehead to hers, waiting for her to push him away and tell him that the kiss was a mistake and they shouldn't have, but she doesn't. She presses her soft, pink lips to his again.

"I don't think that of you," she says softly, pulling her face away to look him in the eye. "I just- it's hard to believe that someone like you would want to be with someone like me."

"Someone like you?" he questions, because what? She's- well, she's Kate Beckett.

"You're a bestselling writer and I'm just a cop," she says, letting out a small huff of laughter. "Not exactly the kind of people who end up together."

"You're extraordinary, Kate," he says. How could she think any less? How could she think he would want anything less? "I think we fit quite well together."

She kisses him for that, a slow, passionate thing that she's beginning to find she already loves.

He breaks it first and says, "So… next time someone asks if there's anything going on between us-"

"Yes," she whispers against his mouth, pulling him to his bedroom, "Yes, always."


This was cheesy. But I really want more stories like this out there. Had to throw the word "always" in there because that word is like a promise between them and how could I not?

I got the title of this story from Sam Smith's song titled the same thing. It's really beautiful, give it - and all his other music - a listen. (Also can I just fangirl for a second because Nathan introduced Sam Smith at the AMA's tonight and tweeted about Taylor Swift's speech and he flipping thanked One Direction too omg kfhaskjdhf)

Lastly, I really appreciate any feedback. Thanks for reading!