Author's Note: I didn't really intend to write a follow up to Encountering Heat, but I was struck with this little idea around Christmas time and developed it after this season wrapped up. I'm a bit rusty with my writing and I'm not entirely satisfied with the results, but here it is. A little long, so I split it up. Enjoy!

Encountering Heat

Body Heat, Part 1

The silence in the car was about as icy as the road they were driving on. Kate Beckett was in a foul mood. Rick Castle was in a Christmassy one. In super-stealth mode, his hand flicked toward the radio dial.

"Touch it and die," she warned through clenched teeth. His fingers hovered decimeters from their target and didn't move. He had really been hoping to hear some Christmas Sinatra. He looked at her, pleading impishly.

"Not even a little bit of—"

"No."

Castle chose to live to die another day and withdrew his hand. "Okay."

Beckett blew a stress-heavy sigh, shaking her head. Wiggling her gloved fingers from their vice-like grip on the steering wheel, she briefly entertained the idea that maybe she was being unduly impatient with Castle. Venturing out to some boondock, backwoods upstate New York town to follow up a lead wasn't anyone's idea of pre-Christmas fun.

The beginning of the week had dumped a double homicide in their laps. It was a complicated mess of a case that tested even Castle's ingenuity. Almost on a fluke, they made an arrest and ended up with a pale, skinny bookie who was just about as afraid of Detective Beckett as he was of his mafia employers. Nonetheless, he figured the lady cop would be merciful in ways that his bosses would not. Valuing life in prison over no life at all, he promptly gave up the supposed location of the murderer. Captain Gates then sent Beckett, Castle, Ryan, and Esposito upstate to coordinate with the local authorities to make an arrest.

The upshot of the situation was that the murderer had been apprehended that afternoon.

By the FBI.

Kate's jaw tightened. The fresh memory of the jurisdiction showdown rankled her soul and left an acid taste in her mouth. She hated having to hand a case to the feds. Now the team was at loose ends for the night, having no choice but to find somewhere to stay until daylight and better weather made for safe travel.

"It's not the end of the world, you know," Castle spoke up, subdued. No teasing, no intent to pester. Just the simple truth. Kate turned her head to stare at him, eyes widening slightly with disbelief. It was like he'd read her mind. While she re-focused on the road, wondering how does he do that?, he shrugged dismissively.

"Just think of it this way." Green dashboard lighting illuminated a twinkle in his eye. "Your paperwork load just got cut in half."

Beckett's lips twitched against a smile, so she bit the inside of her cheek and summoned stray drops of remaining irritation to keep him from catching on to her lightening mood. "Sure, Castle."

His phone rang and he answered promptly. "Hey, Ryan. Did you guys—" He paused, listening. He stole a sideways glance at Beckett and swallowed nervously. "Uh, ok. That's—yeah. Ok. See you there."

"What?" Beckett questioned after Castle hung up. He had to clear his throat before he could answer her. He knew she could sense fear, and he didn't want his voice to crack like a thirteen year old's.

"That was Ryan and Esposito. They found a little motel, about five miles up, can't miss it. We're in room 106."

Kate's eyebrows spoke volumes. We? She asked without really asking.

"Slim pickings, I guess," he explained in a don't-shoot-the-messenger tone. He ignored his partner's forceful, inquisitive stare, choosing not to elaborate any further. He wanted to sink into the floorboard. He figured he had maybe fifteen minutes to live. She'd shoot him for sure.

When they arrived at the squalid place, Beckett opened the door to room 106 and discovered just how slim the pickings were. When Castle said we, she had no idea that what he really meant was, "We all—the four of us—are being crammed into room 106."

The oversized room held a lopsided desk, a lopsided desk chair, and two rumpled-looking queen beds, one of which was already occupied by Ryan and Esposito. They were flopped out on the mattress watching tv, a huge pillow barrier built between them. The other bed was obviously left for Castle and Beckett to share.

Castle came up behind her in the doorway, carrying their overnight bags. He peered over her shoulders and saw Ryan and Esposito both grinning at him like morons. Practically drooling with anticipation. They thought they'd set Castle up good. He shot them an ugly glare, mouthing, I hate you.

Kate finally crossed the threshold and Castle timidly followed. In the earlier days of their partnership, he had imagined many scenarios under which he might share a bed with the sexy detective. This was absolutely not one of them.

Deadly silent, she sat down on the edge of the bed and peeled off her boots and socks. "I'm showering," she announced tersely. She turned to Castle, all but yanking her bag out of his hand. She pointed to the left side of the mattress. "That's my side."

"I'll—I'll take that one, then," he stammered dumbly, motioning to the right. He wanted to kick himself for feeling intimidated by her no-nonsense eyes and don't-screw-with-me tone. He watched her walk away, as he'd done so many times before. And as always, the subtle sway of her hips told him that her mood wasn't all that bad. She might be tired and annoyed, but she was definitely toying with him. Again.

What was it she'd said that time in the elevator? Oh, so many layers to the Beckett onion. However will you peel them all?

Ryan and Esposito waited until they heard the shower running to start in on Castle, who could sense their childish glee. He thought of all the vindictive things he could do to their characters in the next Nikki Heat novel. He snarled a smile. They didn't care.

"You are so whipped."

"Yeah, bro. Maybe even as bad as Ryan."

While Ryan sputtered and tried to formulate a response, Castle just shook his head and muttered under his breath. "I know."

Kate knew too. She'd known it from the start. As much as he'd bugged her, she bugged him even more. She was the most complex mystery he'd ever met with. Seemingly impossible to solve. For a long time, she'd found ghoulish delight in his instant, obsessive-compulsive need to try.

It would've been great, he said.

You've no idea, she said.