Once more, I can only say thank you again to everyone for their support of this story. This story is just shy of 30k words (according to Microsoft) now, and I'm so grateful for your continued encouragement! I willrespond to reviews, but I wanted to make sure I kept the story rolling, too.

Where we left off:

Castle grins. "For the future."

"Uh huh."

"Well, you know," he hums, tracing her knuckle slowly. "We might need to do some preparation… for the future."

Her lips twitch. "I think you're right. What do you suggest?"

"That you hang on."

It's all the warning she gets before he scoops her up and carries her inside.

Well, suffice to say, the honeymoon is over.

They've been back to work for all of three days and already the haze of their time away has worn off and he's driving her crazy, they're driving each other crazy. Of course that could be the hunger and the after effects of whatever they were drugged with talking. In fact, it probably is. If she stops to actually think about it, he's not doing anything vastly different than he usually does but she's still taking his head off.

Yes, he's also a little snarkier than normal, though she has a feeling it's more of a response to her than his own annoyance. They'd both been fine when they thought they were waking up at home as always, but their moods have only deteriorated as they continue to realize there is nothing normal about this situation.

Okay, so nobody's being fair here. They're both frustrated and more than a little freaked out to be handcuffed together in the middle of this ridiculously weird case. They need to relax and think. Let their natural rhythm take over instead of trying to go in opposite directions. Opposite directions never work for them anyway; they're so much better as a team. Usually.

Who would've thought they'd have more trouble being chained to each otherafter getting married than they might've had before?

"Castle, stop. Just stop for a second, okay?" Her arm's going numb as she waits for him to admit the other eighty-five tries on the lock were enough. She doesn't have a watch, but it feels like he's been at this for hours.

He huffs, but he does halt, taking her hand in his to massage feeling back into her fingers. It's a sweet gesture, especially given how she can't seem to stop snapping at him. If it were the other way around, she'd probably want to strangle him for being a jackass instead of helping ease his hand cramps.

"I'm sorry about taking your head off," she murmurs, dipping her head to watch his fingers move over hers.

"Which time?"

He doesn't mean anything by it, not really, but it still makes her wince. She has barked at him more than a few times since waking up.

"Every time? It's not your fault. You didn't lock us up down here. I'm sorry."

Castle exhales, curling his fingers around hers. "No I didn't. Believe me, sweetheart, a creepy basement is not where I want us to be handcuffed together."

Her eyebrows lift. "Oh yeah? And where might you like for us to be handcuffed to one another, babe?"

They're sitting close enough for her to feel the shiver of delight that rolls through his body. He likes 'babe,' huh? It shouldn't surprise her; he's eaten up every name, every term of endearment, every ounce of affection she's given him since they got married.

"Home, your place, the Hamptons – definitely want to be back in the Hamptons – maybe that interrogation room you tossed me into the first time you brought me down to the station, at your desk, Gates's desk…"

She swats him for that.

"Ow! You asked, Beckett."

"We are not going to have sex on my boss's desk while handcuffed together."

"Are we going to have sex on her desk without the handcuffs? Because the way you said that, kind of makes me think you're considering it."

She takes her hand back – well, she tries to, anyway – rolling her eyes at him. "In your dreams. Go back to your lock picking, Castle."

"I got you, didn't I? Says something about what becomes of my dreams."

It's… so, so cheesy, but damn if it isn't absurdly sweet, too. Her forehead lands against his shoulder, lips brushing his arm.

"Yeah, yeah you got me. But you're not getting me on her desk. Gonna just have to accept that one."

His lips press into her hair as he goes back to attempt lock-cracking number eighty-six.

"We'll see."

—

Hours later – too many hours later – after eventually getting that lock open and having everything get much, much worse, they're finally out of that dungeon. Any other time and she might be interested in seeing the tiger they inadvertently freed, but after nearly becoming said cat's dinner, she'll just have to pass. She'll stick with the National Geographic Channel for a while.

Although from the looks the boys are giving her, they're never going to live this one down; at least not for the next week or two. One or both of her partners will have some form of tiger memorabilia on her desk before the week's out, she's sure.

But Gates is a different story. There's no teasing on her face. In fact, she has something on her mind, beyond implementing a precinct-wide call in policy, but so far she hasn't tipped her hand.

"Detective Beckett, I believe these are yours?"

Her cheeks color as the captain passes over a box with their possessions. Her badge, her gun, both of their watches and wallets, and oh –

Their wedding bands.

Their matching wedding bands.

Neutral is what she aims for, but she's more than sure she doesn't achieve it. When she'd first come to, she'd hoped their captors had only stripped Castle of his ring, leaving the necklace with both of her rings under her turtleneck, but of course she hadn't been that lucky. Ultimately, though, she's just happy they didn't decide to pocket and sell the rings to fund their escape.

"Thank you, sir."

Castle digs into the box as he and Ryan give each other hell, oblivious to the fact that they've probably just been made. His fingers falter only slightly when they encounter their rings, but he scoops up the entire bundle without comment, deftly slipping his wedding ring onto the open chain and into his pocket.

She gives him a tiny nod in thanks, cutting her eyes to Gates to see if her boss caught it. The older woman's looking back at her already, one eyebrow higher than the other. Damn.

"My office when we get back to the precinct, Detective."

Her chest tightens. Gates's tone gives nothing away, but logically she knows there are only so many outcomes this conversation can have. If it were Roy, it'd be about four seconds of seriousness before he'd brandish a bottle of champagne he'd retrieved from cold storage. But it isn't. It's not Montgomery, it's Gates, and her opinion of Castle and this partnership is well known.

"Yes, sir," she agrees, clipping her badge to her pants and securing her gun. Esposito waves them on.

"Come on, Beckett, we'll give you a lift. Had your unit towed back to the station after we found it."

"Thanks."

It's a strange ride back, reminiscent of some of the more awkward TV family vacations she's seen. Gates rides shotgun while Ryan drives, and somehow she's ended up stuck in the middle between Espo and her husband. The guys try to keep things light, occasionally shaking their heads and bemoaning their ability to get into trouble, but for the most part, no one speaks. Castle's lack of chatter is honestly the oddest part.

If only she could go home, sink into a hot bath, and have her extremely sexy husband read her book to her. Instead, she gets to go back to the precinct, debrief with some DEA agent, and probably end up being read the riot act over getting married and failing to disclose it to HR. She can only hope knowing the mayor will just call the commissioner and get Castle back in will keep Gates from bothering to separate them.

Part of her wants to put her ring on before going into that meeting to show Gates she's not ashamed of it, of being married to Castle. Another part of her doesn't want to rock the boat any more than it's already being rocked. Flaunting her insubordination won't go over well. If it's even insubordination; it isn't like Gates forbade her to get married or to have a relationship with a department consultant, after all. Plus, technically Castle isn't actually a consultant. He doesn't get paid for the work he does, which means the regulations are even grayer than normal.

Screw it. She wants her ring.

It's dark enough in the backseat that she's able to tap Castle's hand and circle his ring finger in request without being caught. It's an odd move, but one she finds herself absently making at other times, though usually she's tracing his ring. By now he knows what it means, mostly. He squirms a little, but a second later, he's presenting the chain to her.

If they could talk without being overheard, this would be much easier. Instead she pantomimes sliding the ring on, tapping his finger and then her own. It's a vaguely obscene looking gesture and he looks scandalized at first – teenage boy that he is – before mouthing to ask if she's sure. She nods, lifting a shoulder quickly. Her lips land against his ear, closer than they need to be but forced there by a sharp turn from their driver. Thanks for that, Kevin.

"She already saw them, Castle. Might as well 'fess up. It's not a dirty little secret. Dirty, maybe. Not little."

She has to hope it really is dark enough to conceal the flick of her tongue along his ear. It won't help their case if Gates sees, but it feels good.

"Now, my ring, please."

It's surprisingly not a long meeting with their DEA contact. They go through their side of the investigation, including their time locked up, before he explains exactly what the hell was going on, but it wraps up far quicker than she would've expected under the circumstances. Really that could be a good thing or a bad thing, depending how awful Gates wants to be in the next few minutes. When Martinez excuses himself – ignoring her husband's petulant mutterings about 'having a taste in his mouth' – that means it's time to face the music.

Thankfully Castle doesn't argue when he's asked to step out. The last thing she needs right now is his noble, but misguided attempts to defend her against Iron Gates.

She keeps her chin high, hands crossed over one another in front of her. Her ring is clearly visible this way, and she makes no move to conceal it. Gates studies her quietly for a moment or two, glancing out to her desk to where Castle's no doubt fidgeting as he waits before training her gaze back on her.

"How long?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"How long, Detective," Gates taps her own wedding ring for emphasis, "hasthis been going on?"

"Oh, a… month or so, sir. November, early November. November 11, actually," She licks her lips, wondering if Gates will realize they were actually working a case at the time. Well, not at that very minute, but there was an investigation occurring concurrently. "It was spur of the moment, but we're happy. And I don't think you can say our work has suffered since then."

"I think it's best if I be the judge of that. You consider Mr. Castle your partner, do you not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And is there a reason I'm supposed to consider you and your… partner exempt from NYPD regulations?"

She licks her lips quickly. "I don't think we're exempt, but I think you could say the circumstances are different for Castle and my team."

"Having money to throw around doesn't make the circumstances different, Detective."

"No, sir. It doesn't. I just meant Castle's consultant position is different from a typical one. He's not being paid for his services, which means that the arrangement doesn't strictly fall under the regulations. Which makes a personal relationship more of a gray area than being outside the regs, wouldn't you think?"

So maybe she'd looked closer at the regs after getting married and after Henry helped her determine what pieces of information she could change without informing everyone. It's not a slam dunk – if Gates wants to treat Castle like any other cop then her argument is for nothing – but maybe it helps. She steals a look to her desk. Castle's watching her intently, hope written in his eyes. Neither of them want him to go anywhere.

"Uh huh. Well, given the circumstances, and the company Mr. Castle keeps when he's not camping out in my precinct with you, I'm not sure there's much I can do at this point. Is there?"

Well that's… unexpected. There's plenty Gates could do, but she's apparently choosing not to. The same way Roy chose not to years ago. That means Castle stays.

"I'm… sure you're making the right decision, sir."

Gates snorts. It's an indelicate thing that actually makes her like the woman a little more. "That makes one of us, Detective. But just know that if he even attempts one of his little stunts, he's out. Friends in high places or no, your husband or no, he will be gone."

She nods carefully. "Understood, sir."

"And I expect you to file the proper paperwork with HR. I won't have a nightmare raining down on my head if your secret husband gets you or himself into more trouble and I have to clean it up. Keep it professional while you're within these walls and on duty, Detective."

Another nod is all she can manage. "Understood."

"I hope it is," Gates hums, waving her off. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir."

She makes a beeline for the door, ready to get back to Castle before Gates changes her mind.

"And Kate?"

"Yes?"

"Congratulations."

She smiles, fiddling with her ring as relief floods her. Everyone knows now. Officially. "Thank you, sir. That means a lot to us both."

Gates nods. "Marriage is a wonderful, often trying experience."

Chuckling softly, she meets Castle's eyes from the doorway. "Yes, sir. Yes it is. But I haven't shot him in almost four years, so I think I'm doing pretty well. Kinda… gives me a leg up."

That makes Gates chuckle, too. The elation running through her blood could be making her think crazy things, but the new captain's not so bad, not really. "You're off duty, Kate. Go home, both of you. But do the paperwork first thing tomorrow."

"I will. Thank you."

Castle's on his feet before she even makes it to her desk, eyes darting between her and the captain's open doorway. She won't tease him, won't make him think things are more dire than they are. Instead, she slides her arm through his, stepping into him and resting her chin on his shoulder. She's off duty, after all. She can hug her husband briefly.

"Come on, Castle, let's go home."

His fingers fumble over her arm, like he's not sure he's allowed to actually touch. Rubbing his side seems to soothe his confused agitation a little.

"You brought your bike today," he reminds her like it's going to change her decision to leave with him.

"Mmm, I did, but I'll leave it here. We can share a cab and stop for takeout on the way home."

Hopefully his helmet should be here soon, and then the next time she takes the bike to work, they can ride in together. The other gear she bought is already waiting for him in a not-so-stealthily hidden box in their closet. It's almost an entire ensemble; jacket, pants – mhmm, the pants – gloves, even boots (which are the size of small boats), but it needs the helmet to be complete. If only his head weren't so big, it wouldn't have been a special order to get the perfect one in his size.

Then again, maybe it does make sense to give it all to him for Christmas. It's only a couple weeks away.

Shit, Christmas is only a couple weeks away. Less than that actually. It's a can of worms she doesn't know if she can open just yet and it's approaching far more quickly than she expected.

Maybe it's because Thanksgiving was so rushed. Despite their best efforts to have a sit down meal for the five of them, she'd gotten a call in the middle of their snacks and ended up eating leftovers long after her dad had gone home and Martha and Alexis were both in bed. For his part, Castle had seemed content to sit beside her, happily shoveling yet another slice of pumpkin pie into his mouth. The holiday itself had barely registered for her. But Christmas… Christmas is different.

"Are you sure?" He lifts an eyebrow.

Shaking off the weirdness of that revelation is easier said than done, but she tries. For him, she tries. "Yeah, I'll ride it home tomorrow since I have my appointment with Burke."

He smiles softly, thumbing her arm in acknowledgment. "In that case, come on, Beckett. I'll buy you dinner to celebrate surviving being hitched to me for most of the day."

Her tongue pokes between her teeth cheekily as he helps her into her coat. "And was last weekend my reward for being hitched for you for the month?"

Castle chuckles. His thick fingers caress the back of her neck deliberately as he clears her hair from under her collar. She knows he can feel her breath stutter at the motion.

"Oh no, last weekend was my thank you for being hitched to me for the month," he hums, looking around the precinct like he's absolutely sure he shouldn't be saying it.

She has to try very hard not to squirm at the reminder of his gratitude. Instead, she uses the nervous energy to check her pockets for everything she'll need for the night. She's leaving her gloves in her bike helmet for tomorrow, but she's sure if she needs to keep her hands warm, her husband won't mind lending his pockets or his body heat.

"Uh huh. Come on, let's go. I'll tell you what happened in there on the way home." She tugs on his coat pocket gently, giving her hips a little bit of sway as she moves ahead. "And maybe my next show of gratitude will be kind of like today, only without the tiger."

He doesn't even try to contain the glee as he follows her to the elevator.

A/N: Fun fact - I was looking at screencaps from Heartbreak Hotel earlier to see if I could find a date stamp to use and I realized the computer said 11/11/11 - which would put Castle and Beckett's wedding date only a day different than their show wedding date, assuming canon has caught up to real time. I thought that was pretty cool.