"So what sort of kinky, depraved things do you have planned, Beckett?"

Kate's reasonably sure that she wouldn't shoot him, but there's an undeniable twitch of her fingers towards the holster that usually sits at her hip. True to form, Castle hasn't let up with his litany of comments on their walk from the general store to the bunkhouses.

The current suggestion of kinky things she'd like to do is the third such pass, and she grits her teeth when sight of their door looms large with the 14 stamped into its center. Even when she pulls out Whitney's key and belatedly realizes it doesn't match, her partner continues to prattle on at her shoulder with that irritating lilt that is a dead giveaway of just how much he's enjoying all of this.

"Castle," she finally snaps when he makes a quip about putting her handcuffs to better use, spinning on her heel quick enough that he's forced to take a step backwards, "Not if we were the last people on Earth," Kate huffs, stowing Whitney's key in the extra large pocket of her chaps and busying herself with wiggling the actual room key into the lock so that she doesn't have to stare at the dusting of stubble that's along his jaw or the twinkle in his blue eyes.

"You wouldn't chain me up in the face of flesh eating zombies?" he asks, one of those large hands pressed firmly into his chest, "Wow, Beckett, I'm touched….really and truly touched." He even adds the pretense of wiping away a tear and a dramatic sniff that tugs one of her patented eye rolls as the lock finally gives and the battered door slides open.

"Keep talking and I'll rethink the kind gesture," she tells him, flicking her eyes in the general direction of her partner. She doesn't want to smile because this whole situation is beyond absurd and its easier to just remain grumpy and miserable but its hard to resist when Castle is giving her that self satisfied smirk because she didn't shoot down his overly imaginative theory that the end of the world will arrive with hordes of walking dead.

The tug at her lips comes anyway and she doesn't fight it, the soft quirk leaving the barest impression as one foot steps over the threshold of the tiny little room.

Bare bones doesn't begin to cover it. The place is nothing more than a pipe stove, two cabinets and a bed that Kate isn't sure she can fit on, much less Castle.

"...wow," comes the rumble at her side, and a quick glance shows that his eyebrows are knotted together in confusion and, potentially, worry. "This is….quaint."

"That's one word for it," Kate sighs, tossing the room key onto the top of the cabinet, of which a quick peek inside reveals little more than towels, an extra pillow and pillowcase and a worn, scratchy blanket that seems to be made out of wool. The need to be thorough demands that she check all the nooks and crannies, which means going to the additional trouble of unfolding and examining all the items. She even checks the seams of the shelves, slides the furniture piece away from the wall only to come up empty.

The yelp of surprise comes when Kate opens the second cabinet, followed by the sharp slam of a door and the repeated stuttering noises of Castle. He's convincing enough that she abandons her search, fixing him with an annoyed glare when he gives her nothing but a wild gesture towards the door, "What, Castle? Is there a dead body in the closet?"

"I-uh-no," he replies finally, hand falling to wrap around the door handle, "But there is a naked cowboy in the bathroom." Sure enough, one quick tug of the door opens to reveal a young guy with nothing on but a ten gallon hat at a toothy grin.

She can't help staring, eyes drifting down on their own accord before Kate remembers what she's here to do and jerks them back to his face.

"Howdy, I'm Tobias. Pleased to meet you!"


Ten minutes and an outfit later, Tobias is situated at the cramped table in their room with a cup of coffee that turns out to taste surprisingly good. He can't be quite twenty-five yet, all bright eyed and eager to gossip about Whitney and whatever trouble she managed to get up to in her stay at the ranch.

Knowing that she was involved with a married ranch hand is the sort of lead that they can latch on to, the kind of thing that make Kate perk up and give Castle an excited grin that he quickly matches, slurping an extra long drag of his coffee.

"You know, I have to tell you that you do make an adorable couple but honey you don't have to be so shy. He's a good looking man and you married him!" Tobias says, flashing Kate one of those big, easy smiles that makes her stomach clench with nerves.

All undercover operations have tests, but she's got a sinking feeling this is about to take on a life of its own.

"Yeah, Kate, I'm a good looking, married man," Castle echoes, his smirk not the least bit quelled by the glare she gives despite the soft tut the man across the table sighs at her.

"You can't spend your honeymoon in a fight. Whatever it is, you really should just kiss him and make up," the cowboy continues, nodding his head at his own advice before turning up the white tin cup and drinking the remains of his coffee, eyes locked on the two of them as if he's just waiting for her to follow his advice and make up with her husband.

She's absolutely going to kill Castle. Or leave him in the middle of the desert. Or both.

"I'm telling you, it's better to just kiss and make up. You'll thank me later," Tobias grins at her again, fingers tapping with excitement across the worn wooden surface of the table. "I can tell you love him honey, no use it playing it down for me."

That statement makes Castle choke on his own coffee, swallowing roughly against the hot liquid even as he decisively places the cup back onto the table with a scratchy rumble of displeasure at the burning sensation. "I…..it's not that simple," she replies both in an effort to maintain some resemblance of the truth and to keep Castle from spouting some story that she might have to live up too.

"Maybe it should be," comes the reply of the cowboy across from her, eyes flickering between the two of them with a level of suspicion that she doesn't want to see when they are nowhere near finding enough evidence or clues to who killed Whitney. Having their operation be exposed because she failed to convince one well intended guest is the last thing they need. Tobias has given them something concrete to investigate but in doing so, he's proved himself as an unworthy confidant.

If he leaves the room convinced they are hiding something, the entire ranch will know before dinner.

"Cas-" Kate begins to call his name before her mind has entirely made itself up, aware that he's keeping his eyes locked on the table, the slightest blush of what might be embarrassment adding a light pink flush to his skin. The increase in her pulse rate, the slight quickening of her breath as she leans in strikes Kate with a certain measure of surprise as she glances at him, fingers squeezing lightly at the well defined muscle that lurks underneath his western shirt, "Rick," she tries again, grateful that she's remembered their name change in the midst of it all.

Most wives would never call their husband by his last name.

It takes a moment for Castle to lift his eyes, but once he does she's struck a little dumb by the darker blue color. The flash of eagerness and want comes quickly when she meets his gaze, but its still there, shooting a flood of heat and adrenaline into her veins that has Kate subconsciously licking her lips, eyes flickering from his to stare at the full pillow of his bottom lip and ever so briefly imagining what it might feel like when pressed against her own.

Oh, God, she's going to kiss Richard Castle. All because some noisy cowboy can't mind his own business.

"Yes, Kate?" he finally asks, voice pitched lower than she thinks she's ever heard it. That little glint is back in his eyes, the slightest upturn of his lips enough to tell her that he's vastly enjoying this predicament of theirs.

She makes a note to punish him for that.

And she starts immediately, darting forward to crash their mouths together with enough force that he grunts in surprise, mouth opening in a way that provides her the perfect opportunity to sweep her tongue against his lower lip and skirt against the hard line of his teeth. What she doesn't expect is the counter move of Castle's hand gripping the back of her head, fusing them together in a battle that's less about convincing some stranger of an unspoken apology and more about sparks of chemistry and still simmering anger.

But when his tongue slips into the cavern of her mouth, lightly teasing her with the way he's exploring her, Kate almost forgets that she kind of wants to kill him for bringing her here and making her play the role of the dutiful wife.

She also has to remind herself not to moan in response to the way his lips are devouring hers, how possessive and right it feels to have Castle holding her like this.

Instead, she lightly bites at his lip, hard enough to make him hiss when they break apart, her eyes flashing mischief even as he runs the tip of that pink tongue over what Kate knows is now a bump in the formerly perfect flesh.

"Alright then, I guess that settles that," Tobias says, flapping his hands at the two of them without some of the frantic, hyperactive energy he's usually displaying. In fact, the man seems a little stunned and awed by their over the top display as he gets to his feet. "I'm gonna go find some chow, see ya'll later."

The exit he makes is hasty enough that suddenly the absence of a third party makes the silence tense and weighted. Kate has to steel herself to even look at Castle, already able to feel the hot flush of heat that surely means she's some embarrassing shade of pink. And to make it worse, she can still taste the coffee they'd just had and a hint of the chocolate Castle had purchased on their exit from the airport.

The grunt of surprise is burned into her brain now, as is the way his mouth fit against her own, how his hands had clutched her like she was both something precious and with a rawness that makes her a little stunned with just how much she wants to do that again.

"Um….." the second the word falls out of her mouth, Castle is on his feet, hands grabbing for used cups and the empty coffee pot. "Should we talk about that?" Kate asks while he scurries towards the jack and jill bath, comically juggling the items in his hands in order to open the door and avoid looking at her.

"No," he blurts it out quickly, the word high and squeaky in a way that turns the skin of his neck a deeper shade of red while he clears his throat, "It was part of the story. It didn't mean anything, Beckett."

Their gazes only meet for an instant, but its long enough for her to see the regret that he's trying to bury under a layer of nonchalance. It's a look she's seen before in some variation, though usually it's accompanied by the presence or mention of Tom Demming.

Just another reminder of the obvious crush he carries, of how tempted she sometimes is to give into the obvious attraction and chemistry that they share. But uncertainty and fear are her friends, the things which ensure that Kate doesn't put herself forward for the option of heartbreak, and they again reign her in across an empty stretch of the bunkhouse room they are meant to share, words clogging in her throat until Castle gives her a strained smile and allows the door to the bath to slide closed.