set in season 5, pre-Secret Santa
(Castle)
He's whistling as he steps off the elevator onto the Homicide floor. Kate's at her desk, neck deep in paperwork from the case they'd closed late last night. She'd left when he was still half asleep, so he hadn't been able to engage in one of his favorite activities: watching Kate Beckett get dressed.
He's a fan of the turtleneck that she's donning today. It's a pretty green color, form-fitting, and it looks delightfully soft.
"Good morning, Detective," he says, setting her coffee on her desk and settling into his chair. "You're looking lovely today."
He watches her lips twitch in an effort to hide a smile. "I'm glad you think so," she says, taking a sip of her coffee. He thinks he hears a hint of annoyance in her voice, but shakes it off. She hasn't dragged him off to the breakroom by his ear, so he can't be in that much trouble, can he?
But there's no mistaking the way she sets her coffee down just a little too forcefully. But she's also still smiling. He squirms a little in his chair. Is he in trouble here, or not?
"Did you know that I actually don't like turtlenecks all that much?" she asks casually.
"I wasn't aware of that, no," he says carefully. "You've been wearing quite a few of them lately."
Kate hums. "So I have," she says. "In fact, I'd say there's a direct correlation between us starting a relationship and the increase in the number of turtlenecks that I've been forced to wear." She finally turns to look at him, raises an eyebrow significantly.
Castle's jaw drops. "You're blaming me?" he asks, his outrage only mostly fake.
She gives him that look. The one he's been getting since the day they met (and that he'll never admit to being turned on by). "Who else could I possibly have to blame for these?" she asks, tugging her collar down just enough for him to see the numerous hickeys that weren't there yesterday.
He just grins, leans in to whisper, "I don't recall you complaining last night. In fact, you were...quite encouraging."
She ducks her head to hide the blush that he knows is staining her cheeks. "That's not the point, Castle," she says. "If Gates finds out..."
"I know," he says. "I'll try to be more careful. But look on the bright side; at least it's sweater weather now, and not, y'know, the middle of August."
She laughs. "I guess that's one way of looking at it."
"So does that mean I'm forgiven?" he asks.
Kate grins. "You were forgiven the minute you gave me this," she says, holding up her coffee. "But I'm still going to have to punish you later."
He looks at her with hopeful eyes. "Naked punishing?"
