Gina shook the sand from her towel before draping it over her shoulder and starting towards the beach house. She was going to get some damn alone time with Ricky. That detective was monopolising all her quality time. Lucky she was only here for the weekend, Gina was fairly certain her invitation was open ended. She had the whole summer with Rick at her disposal; that thought was perhaps the only thing that had kept her so amicable about the Kate situation. The poor girl was going to embarrass herself sometime this weekend, the hopeless way she was pining over Rick. Please, like she had a chance when Gina herself was in the mix. She'd been married to man for crying out loud. If anyone knew how to woo him, it was her. Clearly she had the goods.

As she neared the house, she slowed her pace, a stealthy approach her best tactic to see what the love-struck detective was up to. She crept to the edge of the patio and released a low growl. Rick and Kate were asleep on the sofa, her legs draped over his body as she stretched along the length of the couch. He was sitting, his head lolling to the side, his arms enclosing her legs. Very intimate. Not happy Jan, well, not happy Gina was more like it. She took another step forward and noticed a small puddle of water had formed on the floor. Weird. She followed the trail, spotting something in Rick's hand. A tea towel, pressed against Kate's foot. It was probably filled with ice. Right. Now she understood. Kate was going for the whole faking an injury to get attention ploy. Pfft. Pathetic. But, you know what, not such a terrible strategy. Clever move really. She had done it before herself. It was fine. Gina could recover from this tiny setback. It wasn't so hard to get "injured". She could fake an injury too. Stroke of pure genius. What would Ricky do if she needed carrying around the house? He would have to answer to her beck and call. Brilliant. Time to put it into action.

She retreated a few feet back onto the beach and broke into a run. She released her best dramatic, blood-curling scream and flung herself onto the ground, tossing her beach bag into the air with flourish. It landed next to her, depositing her belongs all around. Perfect. She'd just wait here, rubbing her ankle helplessly and wait for Ricky to come to her rescue. Maybe she'd have time to summon a tear or two before he made it outside. She would have to be quick, he would likely hear the scream and come running. He was sweet like that. She threw in a wail, for good measure.

"Waaaaaaaaaaah!"

Inside, Beckett stirred at the noise. She was instinctively a very light sleeper, always alert for the sound of her phone indicating a body dropping early in the morning. She didn't want to wake up now though, she was much too comfortable. Castle's warm form surrounded her lower body, contrasting with the cool, numbness of her swollen foot. She tensed her toes, trying to get a feel for the extent of the damage. It stung like a bitch. That was going to be a problem. She wasn't going to be able to put weight on it for a while yet. Although, the more she remembered caressing Castle as he carried her, the less it seemed like an issue. She could live with Castle helping her around for the rest of the day if she really had to. She hated the idea of inconveniencing him, but somehow she figured he would survive. If his internal organs churned even half as much as hers did when they touched then she had the feeling he would very much enjoy helping her move around the house.

As she slowly came back to her surroundings, she remembered the reason she was pulled back to her senses. The weird noise. Right. She opened her eyes, lifting her head to take in her surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place. Her gaze lingered on Castle, seemed he had succumbed to a nap too. His head was drooping towards her, the crinkle at the side of his eyes lessened by his relaxed face. She drank up the judgement-free staring greedily, she was getting all kinds of chances to look and touch today. It really was a great vacation. She reached out a hand, figuring the boundaries were a little less obvious at the moment and stroked his cheek with the pads of her fingers. He didn't stir, her fingers continued their exploration, pushing at the errant strands of hair falling onto his face. He seemed to be coming increasingly aware of her touch. He pushed his face deeper into the palm of her hand and sighed. She smiled softly at the movement, cupping his cheek, her palm brushing against his lips. He must have felt the pressure on them, turning slightly to press a rough kiss to her palm. Her hand stilled, shock coursing through her. A little bit more open than she was used to. He must still be deep in sleep. Not conscious at all of his surroundings. Was she taking advantage of him? She kind of wanted to kiss him, just to see how he'd respond in this sleepy state. Would he remember it? Then again, when she kissed him, she really did want him to remember it. Maybe she should wake him up first…

"Castle," she whispered softly, pressing her fingers more firmly into his cheek.

No lucid response. Hmm. Time to step it up?

"Castle," she tried again, a touch louder. "Caaaa-stle." Nothing. Right.

She carefully raised a pointed finger and brushed the ends of his eyelashes. She repeated the movement. The lashes began to flutter. She did it again. More fluttering. And again.

"Whaa?" crawled its way out from Castle's barely moving lips. One more time. His eyes fluttered open this time, revealing a dazed and slightly confused expression. Oh, she was too slow. He locked in on her retreating finger. "Beckett?" he turned to look at her. She couldn't help but giggle.

"Morning, sleepyhead… Well, evening, technically," she corrected herself with a grin. Castle found himself matching her grin despite not having any idea what was going on.

"Beckett?" he tried again.

"Mmm," she conceded through pursed lips, fighting back another giggle.

"Not that it wasn't a unique way to wake up, why were you tickling my eyelashes?" Castle attempted to level her with a serious and questioning gaze and failed, the confused vibe still reigning strong.

"Calling your name didn't seem to do the trick," she shrugged, "next best idea."

"Always surprising me, Kate Beckett," he grinned. Another shrug. "I like it," he added. She beamed, eyes sparkling. "So, you're playful when you wake up. I kind of figured you for one of those I need coffee before I can function types."

"Oh, that's a great idea," she tried to sit up a bit more, Castle tightening his grip on her legs in response.

"What is?"

"Coffee. I'd get it, but," she gestured to her legs, "I'm currently indisposed." She lifted her legs off Castle's lap as he somewhat begrudgingly loosened his grip.

"Coffee it is," he smiled.

Gina was over this. She'd been sitting out here, covered in sand, grasping awkwardly at her ankle for five whole minutes. Ricky was supposed to come running straight out of the house the second he heard her scream, preferably throwing Kate onto the floor in his haste. Where the hell was he?

Sometimes he slept pretty deeply, maybe that was it. She needed to scream again, louder this time. She took a deep breath, gathering as much air in her lungs as possible and let lose a bellow.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhahhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!" That should do it.

The coffee machine whistled as Castle stood in the kitchen humming. He was pretty sure this moment was the definition of content. Beckett was gazing at him over the edge of the couch as he pulled mugs from the shelf. He would meet her eyes every second or so and she would grin. He might have been too far away, but he liked to think he could almost picture blush rising on her cheeks every time he looked her way. She continued to stare though, not too embarrassed that he was calling her out on it by staring back to actually turn away. He was probably going to burn himself with scalding coffee if he continued gawking at her, but he wasn't about to let a technicality like that dissuade him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her brow furrow.

"Did you hear that?"

"Huh? Hear what?" Castle shrugged.

"It sounded like a scream. Outside," Beckett continued.

"Sometimes the wind whistles through the door funny when it's ajar. It makes a ghostly, possibly interpreted as screaming, noise. It was great when Alexis and I used to tell ghost stories right before bed." He smiled softly at the memories. "Mother would jump every time," he chuckled. "Although, I think she was just adding her dramatic flair to convince Alexis that her stories were terrifying."

"That's sweet, Castle. It's a shame they're not here this weekend."

"I shudder to think about what my mother is up to this weekend. That's the true horror story," he groaned.

"Castle," she chided. "It's great Martha has met someone."

"Oh please, her taste in men is atrocious," he sighed. He plucked the two coffee mugs from the bench and returned to the sofa, depositing one in Beckett's outstretched hand.

"Speaking of taste in relationships, where is Gina?" Beckett murmured. Castle grimaced.

"I really shouldn't have invited her this weekend. I'm sorry, Beckett. It's just, you said no and then she called…and I just wasn't thinking straight…" he groaned. "Worst timing ever."

"I know," Beckett soothed. "It's making for a pretty strange weekend, isn't it?" Castle nodded morosely in response.

"I just want to spend time with you. You know that, right?" he added.

"I'm here to see Gina," she teased.

"Wouldn't that be a plot twist," he raised his eyebrows at her and chuckled.

"Castle," her tone was one of warning, "so help me if Nikki has a lesbian tryst in the next book…"

He threw back his head and laughed, loud and ringing.

Gina was not impressed. It had been several more minutes and still no Rick. That last scream had probably been the loudest one she could muster. This was pathetic. He must still be asleep. She needed to move closer to the house. Or maybe she'd just limp inside, it would totally have the same effect. Once Ricky saw her in pain he would jump to her aid. Foolproof.

As she approached the house, she heard Rick's laughter spilling through the open door. Her frown deepened. So much for still sleeping. She sighed loudly and stumbled into the beach house.

The scene before her was not ideal. Rick was gazing at the detective with a look a pure admiration, like she had said the funniest thing he had ever heard. She had her hand on his thigh, as if attempting to reign in his mirth and calm him down. Naturally enough, the detective noticed Gina first, her joyous expression slipping momentarily before she managed to mask it. She inclined her head towards Gina, causing Rick's gaze to shift her way. Now that his eyes were on her, she continued hobbling her way unsteadily inside. He narrowed his eyes, appraising her limp, but still not rushing over to help her. Fine.

"Oh Ricky," she sighed dramatically, "I think I've twisted my ankle," she groaned for extra effect.

"How did you manage that?" he asked warily. Gina noted that Kate hadn't bothered returning her wandering hand back to her own body, even now that she was here. Poor girl was going to be so embarrassed for throwing herself at Rick when she was going to be the one to return triumphantly with him at the end of the summer.

"I went for a walk along the beach and there must have been a hole in the sand. I stepped in it, fell and here we are," she pouted.

"Oh. Okay. It doesn't look very swollen," he eyed the pale ankle with trepidation. He flicked his gaze back to Beckett's angry, raised welt that looked as if it was still pulsating with every breath she took. Nasty.

"It hurts," Gina whined, slouching into an armchair.

"There's ice in the freezer, help yourself," he shrugged. "Oh, but be sure to refill the trays you use. I'll have to ice Beckett's sting a little bit later." He tugged at her foot and held it up for Gina to see, "pretty gross, right?"

Gina made no attempt to acknowledge Beckett's foot, apart from a glare in her general direction. She also made no attempt to move and collect the ice she had so kindly been offered. This was ridiculous. Where was the charming and helpful Ricky? If this had happened in the early days of their marriage he would have been fawning over her with ice and offers to run out and buy painkillers. Apparently not now. This was so not good enough.

"Ricky," she drawled, "be a dear and get me some ice. I'm in pain," she moaned to emphasize her point.

"No problem," he sighed and meandered over the fridge. "You know what?" he added after several moments, "best thing for a sprained ankle is keeping it elevated. I'll help you up to your bedroom so you can rest."

Gina smirked. Now that sounded more like it. She was happy to 'rest' with Ricky any day. She let Rick help her to her feet and leaned into his side. She smirked at Beckett as he gently helped her to her room. As she slid under the covers she gestured for him to join her.

"No thanks. I've got to start dinner," he quickly backed away leaving a pouting Gina in his wake.

He found Beckett exactly as he had left her, seated on the sofa, sipping her coffee and gazing out to sea. He took his place at her side.

"Poor Gina," she murmured.

"Please," he sniffed, "that is the mildest sprain I've ever seen, if it's even sprained at all. I wouldn't put it past Gina to fake it for the attention. She's like the kid with the 'fever' who doesn't want to go to school…"

Beckett chuckled and Castle beamed at her.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" she asked somewhat shyly, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, not quite meeting his eyes. "Seeing as I'm not up for much else," she gestured at her injured foot.

"Mmm," Castle acquiesced. "Sounds like a plan."

As the beginning credits rolled, Beckett gazed at Castle. He was studiously watching the screen in a determined effort not to stare at her for the next two hours. She smiled softly and went for it. Castle's hands lay on his thighs and she slipped her hand over the one closest to her. Her heartbeat increased tenfold. She tried to ignore the sharp intake of breath that fell from Castle's lips. She tightened her grip. He steeled himself for possible rejection and figured it was worth the risk. He flipped his hand and laced his fingers with hers. He had absolutely no idea what the first few minutes of the movie were about, all he was conscious of was Beckett's steady, warm pulse echoing through his fingertips.

AN: Nothing annoys me more than people who start stories and don't finish them. Second to that is people who start stories and then updates them ridiculously slowly. I am sorry that I have become that person! I'm working on it. Life has been a little nuts (in a good, but very busy way) over the past few weeks. Aiming to update weekly at the very slowest – we'll see how that goes… I hope you're sticking with me. Apologies for the delay!