A/N: So I'm 90% sure I shouldn't be publishing an unfinished, unbeta'd fic that I started about 2 years ago, but due to recent developments on the show, I'm going to do something I never, ever, ever do. Hit publish.

There are women who do not like to cause suffering to many men at a time, and who prefer to concentrate on the suffering of one man: These are the faithful women. ~Alfred Capus

Alien abduction. Clowns. Abnormally symmetrical cacti. Zombies. Ghosts. Silently fuming Beckett. Mummies. Big Foot. Spiders. Tigers. Lions. Bears.

"Castle! Would you quit mumbling under your breath."

Oh my.

He looked over at that throbbing vein in her forehead and mentally reordered 'The List'. Number one, a not-so-silently fuming Beckett. Two, alien abduction. Three, Clowns. Four, Abnormally symmetrical cacti. Five...

Richard Castle was a marked man. He was sure of it. Having escaped his demise on numerous occasions, he had developed an instinct for these things. And at that precise moment, his instincts were screaming at him that death was near. Not only was death near but she was sitting in the driver's seat next to him—jaws clenched, brows furrowed, nostrils adorably flaring—pointedly ignoring any attempts at conversation.

"Boy, look at those clouds. Looks like this storm's gonna be a bitch." The look she shot him made him reconsider which side of the window the storm would land.

"A bitch, huh?"

Shit.

Gulping nervously, he pointed up at the sky, "Clouds," he managed with a smile, "sky."

Smooth. Real smooth, Tarzan.

What did he do wrong this time? Whatever it was, he had to fix it. Fast. Things had been fine the night before. They had gotten in late after a tough case, having decided to crash at his place. They were past making excuses to stay over, and on most days, just asked "Your place or mine?" He'd offered to cook, but after such a long day, neither of them had much of an appetite and had quickly made their way to bed.

Perhaps he should have insisted on cooking her dinner. After all, she had once admitted, with a very un-Beckett-like shyness, that she sometimes didn't mind being pampered by him. In the past, such an admission would have been quickly followed by threats to his manly parts if he mentioned this to the boys, or anyone. Mainly the boys. Now, she divulged these tidbits, sometimes deliberately, sometimes casually dropped in the middle of conversation. Except, at that particular moment, the only thing she was letting out were furious huffs of breaths timed to the clenching of her hands on the steering wheel.

Oh yes, he was a dead man.

"Hey, wanna listen to some relaxing mus-," Castle jerked his hand back from the dial a moment before her fist collided with the dashboard.

"Nope, no music. No sound. Quietude. Got it," She glared. "Shutting up now." The rest of the car ride was in awkward silence.

The precinct was busy, as usual, when Castle stepped off the elevator, juggling cups of coffee and the extra Cronuts. He was not taking any more chances with Homicidal Beckett this morning. She had dropped him off a few blocks from the precinct, across the street from his usual coffee stop. He hadn't ventured a goodbye kiss, not wanting to risk another flying fist, and instead had walked around the front of the car to wave goodbye, a smile pasted on his face. The screeching tires were his only warning to jump out of the way before her Dodge Charger stormed away.

What had gotten into her? Unless she found out about him at her apartment with- Nah, she was at work the whole time and then came straight to the loft. It couldn't be that. Still he had to figure this out before the next time she tried to kill him.

He was going to fix this. Today. Right now. Before things could get stabby. Whatever had caused the woman to rage would not hold up against the full onslaught of the famous Richard Castle Smolder. Squaring his shoulders, he took a deep breath and stepped forward to meet his fate. Er, Kate.

As he rounded the corner two pairs of hands grabbed him by the arms and half carried, half dragged him into an empty conference room.

"Ow! Watch the coffee, guys! Beckett is going to really kill me if she doesn't get her caffeine today."

Esposito was in his face the moment the door was closed, "Oh yeah. Maybe we should let her kill you. Maybe then she would stop riding our asses over every little thing this morning. What did you do, Writer-boy? Este viejo que?"

Castle, still precariously balancing the coffee cups, gave Esposito a bewildered look, "Me? I didn't do anything. I swear."

It was Ryan's turn to play 'good cop', "Look, Castle, we get it. You two have this weird killzone relationship. But you guys can't bring that to work and get us caught in the crossfire."

He looked a little chagrined at that, but added, "I'm telling you the truth, guys. I didn't do anything to set her off. She was like this when she woke up this morning."

"Have you been taking care of business at home, bro?" At Castle's perplexed look, Esposito added a bit of thrusting motion with his hips.

"Whoa."

"Hey, now!"

Both Castle and Ryan exclaimed at once.

"Dude, she's like our sister!" Ryan looked like he was going to be sick.

"What?" Esposito wasn't backing down. "I didn't say I was volunteering. Just want to make sure homeboy here is doing his job right."

"Doin- doing my job right?" Castle sputtered. "I'll have you know I made her meow- MEOW!- last week. I was so good."

"Okay, is anyone else seriously uncomfortable, right now?" Ryan raised his hand while looking around. "Just me? All right then." With that, he turned on his heels and all but ran from the room.

When it was just the two of them, Esposito leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Dude, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. There is this move that I know. It drives the ladies wild," he looked around dramatically then continued, "do you know about 'The Humming Gopher'?"

Castle was indignant,"Hey, I'll have you know I invented 'The Humming Gopher'. I was doing 'The Gopher' before I was doing women." Esposito gave him an odd look. "That didn't- that didn't come out right."

"Not the way I do it. Listen, here's what you do. Think of your favorite song," he began to whisper in Castle's ear.

"OH GOD, ESPOSITO! THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU!"

Kate was adding notes for the case when the noise made her jump, causing the marker to streak across the board. All eyes turned to a red-faced Castle and a sheepish Esposito exiting the conference room. She rolled her eyes and turned to check for Gates. Yep. She was standing in her doorway, glowering at them. Her. As if to say, "See, this is why we don't allow pets at work."

She saw him shuffling up to her in his adorably hesitant way and had to tamp down a rush of tenderness. She was still irritated, although at him or herself, she couldn't be sure.

"Brought you coffee. And cronuts," he laid the peace offerings on her table, looking at her expectantly.

She didn't reply but tried to hide her smile behind pursed lips. He took that as his signal to claim his chair, noting with relief when she hummed around her first sip. He winced at the sound and twisted around to give Esposito a dirty look.

"So," he turned back to her, all polite curiosity, "any leads on our dog breeder case?"

This was safe, their familiar working ground. Maybe if she distracted him, he wouldn't poke around at her mild irritation this morning.

"Nothing so far. Lanie is still going over the preliminary tests, but she thinks our vic was alive for a few hours before bleeding to death."

"Hmmm, whoever killed him left in a hurry. Either he got what he came for or Fidelis chased him off."

"Fidelis?" She bit back a laugh. "You named our victim's dog?"

"No it was on his dog tags. 'Semper Fidelis', always faithful. I bet you our trainer had a military background."

"Semper Fi," she looked thoughtful. "I'm impressed. You read the tags from across the street? I thought AC was just leaving with the dogs as we got there."

The breeder had about half a dozen dogs in the kennels, but this was the only one where Animal Control had to use a catch pole. The first officers to arrive on the scene had been attacked by him and he had even bit a paramedic when the man had tried to approach the body. They had no choice but to have him taken away to be put down after a rabies test. Luckily for her, Castle was unaware of this last bit of info.

"Ummm…" he was suddenly looking around at everything but her. "Velasquez! Hey, is that a new haircut? I haven't seen you in like forever. How are things with you?"

Officer Velasquez stopped mid-stride next to Beckett's desk and gave him an odd look. "Um no, Mr. Castle. And you pass by my desk almost daily. It really hasn't been that long." Shaking her head, she walked away, muttering something about mandatory drug tests.

"Jackass." That one came from the woman sitting next to him.

He whipped his head back around to see Kate glaring at him. "Is this- is this about your couch? Because I swear I'll get it reupholstered.."

"My couch? Nevermind," she held up a hand. "I don't want to know. It's about you actually." Now she was the one not meeting his eyes.

"About me…" he trailed off, silently urging her on.

She finally looked up at him, gnawing at her lips. "I had a stupid dream last night. It was- it was more like a nightmare."

"Kate, why didn't you wake me?"

She shook her head, feeling guiltier by the second. "It was all so very real, Castle. You were walking with me down the street and next to us was a conveyor belt full of beautiful women."

He made a choking sound, which she pointedly ignored and kept on going.

"And every time I would turn around, you were kissing one of them. I just kept pulling at you and you kept trying to shake me off, and eventually you just got on the conveyor belt and," she made a flying motion with her hand, "conveyed away. I was so mad at you all morning."

"You were mad? I hardly noticed. You hid it so well." She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "And a conveyor belt full of women, fascinating. Were they coming from some packaging center? A women's factory, perhaps? Is that where girl babies come from?"

"Shut up. Shut up," her words came out muffled through her fingers. She finally looked up and smiled, her eyes full of apology. "God, listen to me. I'm such an idiot. I've been punishing you all day for a stupid dream."

"Hey," he captured her hand, not caring who was watching. "I would have been mad at me too if I ever thought a conveyor belt full of women could even hold a candle to you."

She rolled her eyes at that.

"I'm sorry," giving his hand one last squeeze, she pulled back and whispered, "I promise I'll make it up to you. Tonight."

Whoever invented makeup sex was a genius. That was the only coherent thought going through his mind with as he lay next to her, still panting heavily and a bit light-headed after round three. It had been said that makeup sex came in second only to conjugal visit sex. He had never been in prison (much), but he would be willing to argue that point with any inmate. Because tonight, tonight was amazing.

They hadn't even made it to the bedroom during the first two rounds; Beckett had pounced on him as soon as they had entered her apartment. Round two would have been on the couch-which he hadn't told Beckett about just yet, but his quick thinking and even quicker fingers had saved them from that disaster. He still wasn't sure how he was going to broach that subject, then again if it led them right back here, he was tempted to add it to the 'Angry Beckett Triggers' list.

He had heard of couples who would pick fights just to have make-up sex. Those were disturbed, dysfunctional couples, but he and Beckett were in a much more stable and mature relationship. He should probably tell her about her broken vase too. Okay, so maybe not the mature part, but just thinking about the last few hours was still blowing his mind.

He was going to make her pancakes in the morning. No, a batch of pancakes. Maybe some waffles. Wait, the waffle-iron was at his place. Okay, scratch that. Bacon. Yes. And some eggs. Oh and can't forget the coffee, or she'd really shoot him. Unless he- nope, probably too risky.

He was half-seriously contemplating spiking her coffee with decaf when she rolled over and murmured something in her sleep. He ran a gentling hand over her hair, trying to soothe her back to sleep when he heard a sharp "Castle!". He snatched his hand back, thinking he had woken the bear, but no, she was still asleep. She snuffled and mumbled softly again, but it was too intelligible to make out. He couldn't hide his grin. His girlfriend was talking in her sleep. And she was dreaming about him again. He hoped it was not the conveyor belt. Maybe it was a sexy dream. Who was he kidding, after their activities tonight, of course it was a sexy dream.

"I'm going to have to cut it off"

What?

"If you aren't going to use it responsibly, then you can't have it. Cut. Off."

"Cut off what?" Oops, did he say that out loud? Good, she was still asleep.

"Cut off your p-" the rest was muffled in the pillow. It almost sounded like... No. It couldn't be. He waited for her to continue, but she was back to deep breathing. He finally relaxed and was almost about to close his eyes when she suddenly turned over and grabbed him through his boxers.

"Cut. Off." Oh no. Oh no. No. No. No. No. No. No. This was not happening.

"Kate, honey, wake up. You're having a bad dream," Or maybe he was having the bad dream. It could be debated. He tried to jostle her hand but she seemed to have an iron-clad, and so very painful, grip on him.

"Kate!" she jerked at that—PAIN—but didn't loosen her grip.

Desperate, he tried a new tactic, "Kate. Kate, sweetheart, you have to protect it. You have to protect little Rick Castle from those evil women."

"But he's not so little, Castle." He had a fleeting moment of pride at that, which quickly vanished as she squeezed harder.

"NO! Kate, please listen to me." His voice went up an octave. "Those women, they want to take what's yours. Little Ricky, I mean big Little Ricky, is yours. Protect it. Keep it safe. Don't let anyone hurt it."

At that she slowly loosened her grip. That's all the leeway Castle needed to wiggle himself out of her grasp and try to stand up.

Ouch. Okay, stand up was not happening. He scooted to the farthest side of the bed and put as many pillows as he could between himself and Kate. Penis-fort complete, he tried to relax. Nope, that was not going to happen either.

He was going to start wearing a male chastity belt to sleep.

Kate woke up the next morning, her entire body relaxed, sated, and aching from last night's activities. Smiling sleepily, she reached over to wake him but found only lumps where he usually slept. When did Castle get so lumpy?

She opened her eyes to see a pile of pillows instead of Castle. Confused, she sat up to see him soundly snoring on the other side of the pillow wall. Weird man. And why was there a bag of frozen vegetables on the bedside table?

Shaking her head, she made her way to the kitchen to start their morning coffee. Everything would make sense after caffeine.

Shoot. She was out of eggs. No pancakes for Castle this morning, even though he earned that reward several times over last night. Oh well, at least she had his favorite cereal. It was mostly sugar but she insisted on putting in some fruit every time her man-child decided to indulge.

She poured some into a bowl for him and was just in the middle of peeling the banana when she heard the unmistakable sound of shuffling behind her. Smiling, she turns around to greet him.

"Hey, we're out of eggs. Cereal okay?" she pushed the bowl towards him.

"It- it's fine. Great. Just perfect. You are perfect." He took the seat at the counter farthest from her, gingerly easing down onto the stool.

She gave him an odd look, but came back to him with a banana and knife. He jerked back from the stool as if singed. "NO!"

Rolling her eyes, she chided, "Castle! You can't just have sugar for breakfast. At least try to eat like an adult once in a while."

"No, I mean, the banana is fine... Just don't cut it."

She looked at him as if he was speaking in Klingon, "Don't cut your banana?"

"No, I like it whole."

"Okay," she said slowly and stuck the whole banana into his cereal where it hung awkwardly off the side. "I'm going to go take a shower. Can you be less weird by the time I come out?"

He just smiled at her, nodding emphatically. Shaking her head, she walked away.

He could do this. He could. It would be a piece of cake.

A/N: No obligation to review, but if you do, please only send hate. I was hugged too much as a child and need to be taken down a peg.