"You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war."
The door slams and glass smashes, loud and hard and somewhere close by. Coats are discarded, her shoes, his jacket. Something metallic hits the wooden floor clinking and high pitched, almost painful to the ears.
Heavy growls and panting.
Keys, followed by the soft thuds of cell phones and a bag.
It all gets ignored.
Hot breath escaping through their noses when their lips refuse to part, the thrust of her hips lifting her up and into him as he reaches for her, hands yanking her in by the waist.
He growls, pulling her back with him, but doesn't break their connection. One hand drifting through her hair, down to her neck to hold her to him.
Fingers fast and sliding at the hem of her shirt across the skin of her back.
Too desperate, abandoning himself to her kiss and her hands in his hair, over his chest, touching at his face.
Bodies colliding.
Her nails rasp over the cotton of his shirt, dance across his ears, down his back, over his shoulders.
She can't keep still, a whine of need quivers into the depths of his mouth.
They kiss fiercely and she can taste the undertones of fear and love, terror and want that lie over his tongue. He's waging his own war somewhere deep inside his head, sating the torture of his mind with the feel of her against him.
Wrapping himself in her body, and the memories that they came too close yet again.
Bullets flying too fast, loud pops that just missed both their heads as they hit the floor.
Her body beneath his for the barest second before they were up and sprinting to safety, to death, they had no idea, they just ran.
Heads down, as fast as possible, the length of the warehouse, her hands raised, gun poised before her.
Kate had called at him to keep close, stay near, get down, be quiet, move fast.
The distance suddenly too wide between them and then the bullets were coming again and he barrelled into her, dropped them both to the ground, hard and painful, her breath leaving her chest as he landed on her.
Pinned her when she tried to sit up.
Too close.
The doors thrown open, Esposito and Ryan and five, ten, hundreds and hundreds of police swarming the building, surrounding them, saving them. His eyes met Kate's as she lay sprawled beneath him on the concrete, the rise of her chest, too fast, too quick with adrenalin.
They both jumped when the shots echoed out.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
And it was over.
The scream of a police car, an ambulance voices calling for them. So sudden and over so quickly.
All over.
Both safe. Both alive.
But the memory lingers and he devours her mouth, swallows her whole, traps her close and keeps her safe in the circle of his arms.
Because she's here, where she should be, clinging to him and breathing hard for the best possible reason. Castle hears the crunch of glass under his feet as he steps back, suddenly remembering she isn't wearing shoes, kicked off somewhere near her front door.
"Too close." He growls into her ear, hands spanning her thighs so he can lift her from the floor, the shards of glass at their feet a danger he can protect her from.
Her hands loop around his neck, fingers linking as she clings to him, mouth falling into the curve of his throat.
Hot, damp with the sweat of exertion, his skin still tasting of anxiety and bravery, the sticky trace of power that stains his flesh.
He threw her on the floor and saved them both.
Her tongue darts between her teeth, tasting it, swallowing it down and clinging to it. "We're ok." she moans into his skin. Telling him, telling herself and the world at large. Needing to believe it just as much as he does.
Too close.
They came too close and now they are too far apart.
Another crash of sound splinters the silence of their heavy breathing, ignored by both, an intrusion into their alone time. The repetitive thud means nothing as books fall in a cascade of forgotten words behind them. An avalanche of myth and fantasy that holds no appeal as they weave their own tale through the echoing walls of her home.
"You almost..."
"You saved me." She whispers, harshly, breathlessly, cutting him off with awe and gratitude, hips rolling so she can hook her ankles together, pull herself closer. Buttons dragging under her hands as she seeks skin, tactile proof of life.
He can't speak, doesn't whisper the word back, but always always always bleeds from every fingertip, the soft press of his lips as he sucks her earlobe into his mouth screams it with more clarity than his voice ever could.
"I am ok." She kisses his neck, tongue sliding against his thundering pulse. "I am here with you."
"It just missed your head Kate, my head..."
Her kiss silences him, lips over his, drowning out his words, and he gives in for a few seconds, pinning her to the wall of her bedroom as they finally tumble through the door.
"Too close." He says again, as if the words are trapped on repeat in his head and he can't escape them.
"Too close," She agrees, her hands slide down his chest, feet landing on the floor as she reaches for his belt. Tugging him in, eyes blazing and locked on his lips, "Not close enough."