A/N: another story set at one of Castle's games nights. I think there will probably be a few more stories in this setting because there's just so many possibilities!

This one will be a little mid season 3 inebriated angst. Not super "in character" but I hope you enjoy anyway...

Here's a trigger warning, if anyone needs it. I do not personally condone or encourage exuberant drinking - always drink responsibly, blah blah blah. Moral of the story: take care of yourselves!

Game night

One thing Castle had come to cherish about his time working with the team at the twelfth precinct was the time they spent together outside of the precinct. After their most recent case - a tough one for everyone involved - he invited the team over to his place for drinks, poker and a chance to unwind... let loose and relieve some of the pent up tension from the week. This wasn't unusual. In fact, nights spent together at his loft were becoming quite a regular occurrence. Tonight, however, was getting out of hand. They were drunk. He was drunk. Too drunk. And feeling unusually brave in front of their friends.

Beckett rose from her seat at the poker table, gently tugging on his elbow, coaxing him from his seat beside her. "Okay Castle, time to get you to bed, I think."

He was celebrating his win, excessively. He stood, bumping into her as he did. She stumbled, reaching to move her chair behind her so that she could create some distance between them, but his hands fell to her waist holding her in position. She froze under his touch.

"Are you coming, too?" His voice was low and flirty, more suggestive than he would usually allow. She had no doubt in her mind that everyone at the table heard him, but his fingertips gently pressing into her skin had her captivated.

She let out a puff of air, buying her just a moment in time to gather herself, to clear the gin-infused haze that encouraged curiosity over caution. "I don't think Gina would appreciate that." The woman's name stumbled off her tongue and she hoped no one picked up on the bitterness it invoked.

A dry laugh slipped from his lips. Was that really her only excuse? "Gina's gone." He said matter-of-factly. What's your excuse now?

"What do you mean, gone?" His girlfriend being away on a business trip, or visiting family... whatever she was doing, didn't exactly refute her argument.

"She's gone. We broke up months ago."

"Wait... what?" Her brow furrowed as she processed the ease in his words. "You broke up?" And she hadn't noticed? She tried to recall the last time he spoke about Gina... coming up empty. Did he ever talk about her? She couldn't recall a single recent conversation.

They could hear the shuffling of chairs as their friends tried to escape their front row seats for what was inevitably going to be a very loaded conversation. But he kept his eyes focussed exclusively on hers. And hers remained glued to his.

"Don't act surprised." He scoffed. "You knew it wouldn't work out." All flirtation had dropped from his voice. He wasn't bothering with a façade, too hazy to care about their act.

Defensiveness reared it's head as she stepped back, pulling herself from his hands. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to." He argued right back. "I saw it in your eyes, that night at the precinct. You thought it was a mistake. It was written all over your face."

She paused, her defences fading as she realised what he was talking about. That night... the night. The night she ended things with Demming... for Castle... but then never got as far as telling him.

"I just..." She combed her fingers through her hair, moving it back off of her face. When she looked around the loft, she noticed their friends huddled in his office, trying to appear like they were minding their own business. But she knew better. She lowered her voice, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It never came up, I guess." He shrugged, but her look of doubt encouraged him to explain further. She was wearing her emotions on her sleeve - or face, actually. She had never been such an open book. "You didn't like it when I talked about her. So I didn't."

Offence crossed her face, as if his accusation was completely unfounded. But they both knew it wasn't. "That's not-"

"It's not a lie." He cut her off. "Don't you try to tell me otherwise."

"That's not fair." She finished her previous thought, with a sigh.

"No. It's not. Not at all." He agreed. Nothing was fair. "It's also not fair that you parade Josh around the precinct like some show pony and I'm supposed to be okay with that but I can't be happy because that upsets you."

"I don't-" she was cut off by an exaggerated burst of laughter that infuriated her beyond reason. "I don't parade him. And even if I did, you're acting like it's some personal attack against you. This..." This is your fault. Because, wasn't it? He was the one who left.

She had to stop. Had to breathe. How the hell did this get so heavy so quickly? Her head was pounding and she missed the intoxicated weightlessness she felt just moments ago. She felt the prickling of tears in her eyes, emotions that she always struggled to hold back after a few drinks. She had to pull herself together. This wasn't going to help anything.

He could see she was conflicted and he regretted the path this conversation had lead them down. He hadn't intended this and, if he knew the domino effect that would be triggered by something he intended as a bold joke... well, he would have kept his mouth shut.

"You're right. I should go to bed." He surrendered. He began to walk to his room, placing a steadying hand on the back of the couch as he passed it. "Lock the door on your way out." He called to no one in particular. No, he hadn't forgotten they weren't alone. Another regret that he would inevitably dwell on.

She hated that he was walking away from her. Opening this can of worms and then refusing to deal with it. But, of course that's how this was going to play out. They don't actually talk about these things. They just... happen. And they seem to have settled on some mutual agreement to pretend they don't just happen. But she was sick of not talking. Tired of tiptoeing around whatever this was.

"That night in the precinct..." she started. He stopped his slow journey across the loft, turning back to face her. "I was disappointed."

"In me. Yeah, I know." He rolled his eyes.

Her frustration grew tenfold, why couldn't he just understand? "No, you don't know. You don't know anything." For a smart man, he really could be so clueless sometimes.

"Then, please, enlighten me."

She took a breath, bracing herself for the moment of truth. Admitting to Castle what she had intended that night. "It should have been me."

He paused, trying to figure out what the hell she meant by that. God he wished he had a clearer head right now. He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it would bring some sort of clarity.

It should have been her... that night in the precinct. It should have been her, not Gina.

"De-demming..." he stuttered. She was with Demming. And yet, he asked her to go away with him anyway. God, he really had to stop making his move when she was seeing someone else...

"That's what I was trying to tell you that day." She hesitated. Was this too much for right now? They had both indulged a little too much tonight, ransacking his liquor cabinet before anyone else had even arrived. She pushed on, "I ended it."

It. Her relationship with the man - a wonderful man, truly - was now referred to as... 'it'.

He noticed, too. The way she reflected on that as if it were meaningless. Saying 'I ended it' with the same casual tone you'd mention what you had for breakfast. But what she had said wasn't casual. It wasn't meaningless. No, it meant everything. She had ended her relationship. Braved the idea of actually going to his place in the Hamptons with him, free of attachments. She had braved the idea of crossing this line long before tonight. And she was going to do it. She came so close to doing it. But then... along came Gina.

His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. It made sense now. So much sense. The look on her face. The way she stumbled over her words, quickly switching up her demeanour. They cold shoulder he had received when he returned... from her and the boys. Did they know all this? She was ready to lay it all on the line. But he was impatient.

"I ruined this?" The words fell from his lips without a second thought. If he had just waited a little bit longer. Maybe she would be his. Truly his.

"No, Castle." She stepped toward him. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him. But in this moment, that seemed cruel. "This was never meant to happen."

He shook his head. "I don't believe that. You don't believe that." Surely she didn't believe that. Because if she did, all hope was lost.

She had to put an end to this conversation, the only way she knew how. "I love Josh."

He didn't react at first, he just stared at her... studying her. No you don't. The words were on the tip of his tongue, begging to be voiced. But he wouldn't be so blunt. "Do you?" His scepticism wasn't subtle.

"Yes." Maybe? She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. But she felt the waver in her conviction... surely he did too.

Silence fell over them as he studied her more. She felt exposed, like he could see straight through her. And yet, part of her - unknown exactly how big this part of her was - hoped he would never look away, hoped he would continue to study... to invade her space, provoke her, until he knew her better than anyone ever had. This part of her wanted him to push these boundaries, because she had been so close all those months ago and now she just simply wasn't brave enough. Did she love Josh? Maybe. Did she love that he was safe? Definitely.

Castle stepped to her, entirely too close. His hand caressed her face, the warmth of his breath prickled against her skin. "I want you, Kate."

His voice, barely a whisper, pulsed through her body. It was electric. Her breath hitched as she searched desperately for words. Any words. Anything would be better than just standing here, frozen.

"You want me too. I know you do."

He knew he was crossing a line, betraying their unspoken arrangement to just swallow down their feelings, but this proximity was something he had craved. The temptation to kiss her was overwhelming, but he had to draw a line somewhere. She was, after all, unavailable. And if she crossed that line, he knew she would never forgive herself.

He dropped his hand from her cheek, instantly missing the connection. But he wasn't sure how long he could fight off temptation, his mind already swirling with a hundred different ways he would rather tonight end. "Come find me when you're through lying to yourself."

As he walked away, he hoped that she would stop him... some grand gesture that assured him this would all work out. But she didn't. He risked a glance over his shoulder as he entered his room. She was already packing up the poker chips scattered on the table.

Packing up the shattered mess that was this night. Packing it up, placing the broken pieces of it in a shoebox to be tucked away into the back of her closet. Maybe, just maybe, one day this would be addressed again. But he knew that wouldn't happen until she was well and truly ready for wherever this conversation would lead them. But for now - as always - this was case closed. Not to be spoken of again.