Title: The TSA Would've Had a Heart Attack
Rating: M – yeesh, people, you know me! It's always M!
Summary: Castle on a ten-day book signing tour makes for one unhappy – and horny – Beckett. Good thing he's home now, huh?
Disclaimer: Do you see that Porsche over there, in front of that really big house in L.A.? Yeah, that's not mine. It would be if I owned Castle, but that ain't mine either.
Author's Note: Now, this is all cute and fluffy but in case you couldn't tell from the summary this is unabashedly smutty. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to mojor. She might not remember this but she made a comment involving trench coats and airports and, well, you know me. My mind kind of took off from there! I believe the exact comment, my darling, was "greeting Castle in a trench coat and nothing else"? *wink*
Beckett stood on her tiptoes despite the fact that she was wearing heels, craning her neck to try and see over the crowd. The flight she was waiting for would touch down any moment, and the electric board hanging from the ceiling in front of the crowd would tell her when that moment had arrived.
"Oceanic Flight 815 now landing." A cool, female voice announced as the same information flashed up on the screen.
Beckett was moving before the voice had even finished its announcement, pushing unashamedly through the crowd as she hurried to reach the terminal. She caught sight of him and burst through the crowd, jumping up and down and waving her arms like a groupie at a rock concert.
"Castle!" She cried. "Over here!"
Watching his face light up was worth all the disgruntled people she'd shoved aside. She also decided it was worth her last shred of dignity, and she gave up on the jumping and full on ran towards him.
Castle picked her up, swinging her around in his arms and laughing with her out of sheer giddiness. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his snaked around her waist and pulled her taut against him. The next moment had him kissing her senseless, crushing her body to him. Normally Beckett would've wanted him to save it for when they were in private but she was kissing him back just as fiercely, holding onto him possessively as if anyone could possibly doubt that they belonged to each other.
They finally broke the kiss, gasping, and Castle moved his hands up to cup Beckett's smiling face. "You're even more gorgeous in person." He whispered, reverently stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.
"Why, Castle; had some vivid dreams while you were away?" She teased.
"Thanks to you, yes." He chided. They'd engaged in some very heated… conversations… over the phone while he was away, and while they had been incredibly sexy (the things that woman could do with her voice…) they were no replacement for the real thing.
Beckett's grin widened and she grabbed one of his hands, lowering it and capturing it in hers. "C'mon, Writer Boy; I need to get you alone."
Castle grinned in response and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. It was then that Beckett looked down and saw that he wasn't carrying any luggage. "What–?"
"I'm having it sent back to the loft." Castle explained, nuzzling her behind the ear and delighting in her shiver.
"Hmm." Beckett hummed, allowing him to wrap an arm around her waist.
"Miss me?" He asked, his voice rumbling and gravelly in her ear.
"Yesss…" Her word became a hiss as he scattered a trail of tiny kisses down her ear to where her shoulder met her neck.
Beckett stopped him before he could get any further, gripping his jacket and pulling him so that he faced her. "Patience is a virtue, Ricky." She said, rolling the 'r' of his name and making her voice breathy and seductive. She was rewarded when he swallowed and his pupils dilated alarmingly.
She broke free of his grasp, dragging him along by his hand. Laughing, he followed her, tearing through the airport towards the parking lot. A few feet along, however, Castle stopped. Beckett also stopped, and allowed him to twirl her around like they were dancing.
"Detective Beckett, I do believe that's a 1940's style trench coat you're wearing." Castle said, admiring her outfit.
Indeed it was. It had taken the efforts of herself, Lanie, Maddie and no less than five hours of shopping (not including their lunch break), but they had finally found the perfect trench coat. Castle had never specified what style of trench coat it was that she'd worn in his dream – yes, he had described an erotic dream he'd had about her – but she knew he loved film noir and had kept that in mind while on the hunt. The coat had been tied tightly in the middle and hugged her body, stopping about an inch above her knees to give him a nice, full view of her luscious legs. She'd opened it a little at the neck, just enough to give him a tantalizing view of her collarbone and throat.
"Damn." Castle breathed.
Beckett laughed, and stepped closer. "If you like that," She whispered, "Wait until you find out what's underneath."
Then she pulled away from him, laughing again, tugging on his arm and leading him towards the escalators. Castle followed, crowding her as they stepped on and pulling her back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her pressed against him as they slowly descended.
He let his hand wander, trailing up her chest and slipping underneath the collar of the coat. He felt her skin hot and flushed at his touch… he was surprised at just how much skin he could feel…
Castle started back like he'd stuck his finger in a light socket. Beckett smiled. He cleared his throat. "Um, Beckett?"
"Yes?" She said entirely too innocently.
He struggled to keep his voice from squeaking. "Are you, um, wearing anything underneath there?"
Beckett pretended to think for a moment before turning in his arms and treating him to her naughtiest smile. It was the kind of smile that promised nothing but sinful pleasure. "You know, Castle, I don't think I do."
He gulped. Beckett didn't say anything but her eyes danced like gold in the firelight. Her mouth twitched.
Castle recovered quickly and tightened his grip on her waist. Beckett settled her hands on his chest.
"You really did miss me." He said, overjoyed.
Beckett's hands slowly climbed up his body until one was on his shoulder and the other casually playing with the hair at the back of his neck. She leaned in and whispered hotly in his ear.
"You have no idea."
Castle suddenly stumbled as Beckett slipped out of his embrace at the same time they reached the bottom of the escalator. "Can you keep up, Writer Boy?" She teased.
He regained his balance and grinned wolfishly. "Always." He assured her.
They tore out of the airport as fast as humanly possible, Beckett leading the way to her car which was parked in the large, ten-story parking structure. They managed to make it to the parking garage elevator before Castle gave into his instincts and pressed her against the (thankfully empty) elevator wall as the doors dinged close.
"Castle, what are you–?" Beckett gasped as he slid his hands up her thighs.
"I just wanted to see if you were really naked." He said, his hands trailing their way up and down her upper thighs. Beckett let her head fall back against the wall, gasping and clutching the elevator handrail for support. He kept putting his fingers so close to where she wanted them, but never quite close enough.
He loved teasing her like this. He loved it when her eyes became hooded but still gleamed brightly as she fought to keep her them from closing in pleasure. He loved it when she gave in and allowed her body to respond to him. He loved the little mewls and sighs that fell from her lips no matter how tightly she pressed them together.
The elevator dinged open and Beckett pushed past him, hurrying and dragging him with her by the lapels. She hauled him over and pressed him against the wall, her leg snaking up. He caught it, holding her by her bare thigh, stroking the silky skin. She moaned into his mouth, kissing him with everything she had.
Beckett thought of herself as mature. She liked to think that she could remain calm and patient in a relationship. But damn if all that didn't go out the window once she was without Castle for ten days. Ten fucking days! She didn't know how the hell her libido had stood it.
Responding to her eagerly, Castle began to undo the tie at Beckett's waist, letting the coat fall open. He gulped, his eyes going so wide they nearly popped out of his head. God, she was beautiful. He ran his hands up and down her sides, splaying his fingers over her stomach and swiping his thumbs across her pert nipples.
Beckett ground against him, the friction of his jeans against her hot core making her growl. She hurried to unbutton his shirt and pants, pushing them down his legs along with his boxers as quickly as she could.
Castle had a startling moment of clarity as he realized they were against the wall, in a parking garage, in full view of anyone who walked by. He started to say something, but then Beckett decided to up the ante and began to stroke him. Logic and common sense stood up, said their farewells, and made a quiet exit.
Beckett was going to go absolutely insane if she didn't have him in her soon. Castle sensed her impatience and picked her up, allowing her to wrap her legs around him as he turned, pushing her up against the wall.
He didn't waste a second; he drove into her, plunging into her heat and swallowing her cry as she kissed him hungrily. Her nails dug into his shoulders, their skin sliding and grinding wet and slick against each other. He pounded into her, the feeling of her enveloping him nearly making his eyes roll in their sockets.
They were so pent up, wound excruciatingly tight from being forced apart, and it didn't take either of them long. In only a minute they were both cracking, like a window pane that is hit repeatedly until it shatters, shards of pleasure flying through them sharp and hitting them just on the border of too much. Castle's body was trembling wildly with the force of it. God, she could've told him to sell his house, give up all worldly possessions and move to Uganda and he would've done it, if she asked him in that moment.
Beckett had been trailing her tongue along his collarbone when her climax hit, shooting through her, and she quickly clamped down on his shoulder to muffle her cries. Her body was so wracked with pleasure that she saw stars dancing on the edges of her vision, in the back of her eyes. Castle buried his face in her tangled hair, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip with all his might to prevent any sound from leaking out.
They stood there like that for a moment; Castle, with his pants around his ankles and his shirt hanging from his forearms; Beckett, with her trench coat open and covering her sides but not much else. Then logic and common sense, seizing their opportunity, swooped back in and reasserted themselves.
Castle slowly slid out of her, allowing Beckett to stand up. Her legs wobbled and she gripped his upper arms, her nails digging in as her knees remembered that they were made of bone, not jelly. She turned and slowly, sensuously, closed up the trench coat. Then she stepped in and began to button Castle's shirt, trailing her fingers up his chest and ever-so-slowly doing up each button, fiddling with his collar in a way that had to be illegal. Finally Castle grabbed her wrists and lowered her hands.
"You keep that up," He growled, "And we're never going to make it to your car."
Beckett smiled slowly. She opened her mouth, then closed it and hummed with pleasure instead. That glowing golden feeling, like warm maple syrup on pancakes, was still flowing through her, running up through her veins instead of blood.
Castle did up his pants and held out his arm. Beckett laughed. They'd just fucked up against a wall and now he was playing the gentleman? She took it, curling up into his side, and led him to her waiting vehicle.
She knew when he realized where she was leading him because he stopped dead. Beckett looked up, grinning scandalously.
"Kate?" Castle asked, swallowing. "What car did you take to get here?"
"I didn't take a car." She said, approaching her vehicle and pulling the two helmets out of the back compartment.
Castle grinned as Beckett pulled on a pair of sweatpants from the compartment and straddled her motorcycle. She glanced back at him.
"You coming, Castle?" She asked, her voice throaty and teasing.
He took another moment to preserve the image in his brain, and then took the offered helmet. He swung onto the bike, clutching her hips and running his lips along the side of her neck. "Thank God you're not wearing leather." He whispered. "Or we'd never make it home."
Beckett laughed and gunned the engine.
"Just out of curiosity," Castle asked as she wheeled them out of the parking garage, "You didn't have to go through those security sensors, did you?"
Beckett knew where his thoughts were headed and she wiggled her bottom against him, rewarded with a stifled growl. "No, I didn't. Why?"
"I just wanted to know if I'd be reading about TSA agents suffering a heart attack from shock." Castle joked.
Beckett laughed as they pulled into traffic. "Let's go home, Castle." She said. With a thoroughly bad-girl whoop, she shot out onto the highway.
FYI, I had Beckett put on sweatpants because I don't care how badass you are – you straddle a motorcycle wearing nothing down there and you are going to have some severe burns by the time your ride's over. Oh, and any Lost fans out there? If you loved that television series, you might want to take a look at the flight number of Castle's plane. Ooh, how I love making pop culture references!
Oh and the dream that Castle mentions? That was a nod to the hysterical fic "Just Baseball" by Cyclone2. I suggest you check it out. Seriously. Go now.
And since I also love reviews, will you be a dear and leave me one? Thanks. I'd send you cookies, but the last time I tried it all that my friend got was a bunch of crumbs and chocolate chips.