Please note that this chapter strays a little into M-territory.

Chapter 25

On Monday morning, Beckett walked into the Twelfth to a storm of applause: Ryan and Espo at the front of the crowd, Castle, two hours earlier than he'd normally arrive, off to one side. She wanted to cringe, but that wasn't a cop's style in her own house. She straightened her shoulders as best she could, and walked tall to her desk, standing by her chair until silence fell.

"Thanks, everyone," she said. "Good to be back," then sat down. She didn't need to make a speech or milk the moment.

Castle, Ryan and Espo arrived around her only an instant later.

"Good vacation?" Ryan grinned.

"Heard you left an arm behind," Espo jabbed, "but I can see both of them."

Castle just smiled at her over the boys' heads. He'd been with her most of the weekend.

"Hadn't you heard," Ryan said, ostensibly to Espo. "She's mostly harmless now."

Everyone within earshot groaned.

"Detective Beckett, report," Montgomery said before she could retaliate. She followed him to his office. Castle followed Beckett, but Montgomery glared at him as he entered. "Rick, you aren't invited. Shoo."

Castle retired.

Montgomery looked Beckett up and down, very slowly and thoughtfully. It was wholly intimidating – if you weren't Beckett, who gave him back parade rest stance and a cool gaze most often used in interrogation.

"Glad to have you back, Beckett. We've missed you."

"Thank you, sir."

"Sit down." She did. "Okay, so you can spend today here, and then tomorrow at nine you report to Sergeant Barlow at the Academy. He'll brief you and give you your schedule." Montgomery smiled. "Try to look pleasant to start with. It'll make it all far more effective when you have to bring the hammer down on some dumb cadet heads. You are authorised – and ordered – to tell them your commendation record and decorations if they query anything about your ability. Barlow tells me there's a couple of real dumbasses who think they own the place. He's making sure they hit the mats a few dozen times, but your record should finish the job."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't go easy on them. We want them totally crushed. They won't be good cops unless they get a hard lesson now."

"Yes, sir," Beckett said with more enthusiasm.

"Now, you're not to go out of the precinct on the job other than to the Academy or if Esposito says the site is totally clear."

"Not Ryan, sir?"

"Beckett," Montgomery said very patiently, "do you think I don't know that you can overrule Ryan's better judgement with one glare and a raised eyebrow? You can't pull that trick on Esposito."

"Sir," Beckett said resignedly.

"And you're not to do any overtime for the first two weeks."

"Sir."

"If I catch you in here after or before your shift, I'll bench you. One day for every infraction."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Now, go reconnect with your team."

"Yes, sir. Uh, before I go, sir, Chief Tully wanted me to tell you that he'd take me into his force any time if I wanted a quieter life."

Montgomery went purple. "He did, did he? Well, Oswald Tully can just quit that. You're not leaving this precinct. You'd go crazy in three days handing out traffic tickets in a one-horse town in the boonies."

Beckett grinned. "He did say he was winding you up."

"Dismissed, Beckett. Go find your team. They've missed you too."

"Sir."

She walked out of Montgomery's office in a semblance of her normal swinging stride, over to Ryan and Espo. "What do we got?" she asked, and they laughed.

"Didn't they shoot that phrase out of you?"

"Nope."

"All we got is paperwork," Ryan griped. "Have it."

Beckett took a pile, and settled down, happy to be doing something. She knew it would wear off in a day or so, but it was good to be back.

Beckett reported to Sergeant Barlow at the scheduled time on Tuesday morning, and received a briefing that made her eyebrows rise.

"So, Detective, we've bounced these cadets all around the shop, but one's still got concrete for brains where the reality of the job is concerned. I want you to tell them about every single injury – and about taking down that robber in Walton – in absolutely every last horrible, gory detail. If they throw up, you get a bonus."

"Okay, sir."

"You don't need to 'sir' me – we're both teaching here. Now, your captain tells me you faced down Finn Rourke single-handed, so if you need to channel that, do it."

"Okay."

"Go get 'em, then."

Beckett strode into her class, to be greeted by stunned silence and a shocked pause before the class rose to salute her in greeting. One cadet was noticeably slower than the others, and barely managed to salute at all.

"Officer-Cadet Landry," Beckett's stinging voice whipped out. "Have you forgotten the respect due to a senior detective and lecturer?"

"Uh…"

"Salute correctly, or leave." He did it, with a look of fury that augured ill for the rest of the session. Beckett breathed out her anger. "I'm Detective Beckett, of the Twelfth Precinct. I'm here to tell you about the reality of being a cop on the streets."

"Why you?" Landry gibed.

Beckett's fury rose again. "You will address me as 'Ma'am," she bit out.

"Why you, ma'am?" he said insolently.

"Because ten weeks ago I was shot through the shoulder taking down a gunman while on vacation and unarmed," Beckett said coldly. "Our oath is to protect and serve, with or without our guns. I take that oath seriously. Doing that has left me with the possibility that I'll never be able to use my left arm properly again. I didn't hesitate. I was in surgery for hours, I couldn't move my arm at all for four weeks, and I'll still be having major PT for the next three to six months. Have you been shot, Landry?"

"No" – he caught Beckett's glare – "ma'am."

"Have you faced down a gunman unarmed?"

"No, ma'am." His arrogance was leaking.

"Have you been stabbed?"

"No, ma'am."

"I have. More than once."

"Uh…"

"Have you faced down a mob boss?"

"No, ma'am."

"I have. All of those, and more. In the last four months I've been in the ER three times because I was attacked by a suspect who we were arresting. I and my partners arrested them every time, despite the attack. Every single one of them outweighed me by fifty pounds or more. This is what you're signing up for. You're not signing up because you look good in uniform. You're not signing up because you want to exert your authority on street kids and panhandlers. You're signing up to protect and serve. That means you put yourself on the line every minute of every day to be the best cop you can be. Getting injured or even killed in the line of duty is part of the job. If you can't do that, leave now. If you can't respect the cops who do that, leave now. Our motto is Fidelis ad Mortem. Faithful unto Death. You're here to learn how to live up to that." She took a slow breath. "Now. Let's talk about detection."

"I heard you," Barlow said. "You dealt with Landry really well. Looks like he's actually started thinking."

"I think he's got a way to go," Beckett replied.

"Until this morning, the only way he was going was out. Maybe now he's got a chance to graduate."

"If I had both arms working, I'd pound him into the mats," she pointed out.

"I'd encourage it," Barlow grinned. "But before the next class you take with that group, I'll have issued them your bio."

"What?"

"Oh, not everything. Just the list of injuries you've incurred, your solve rate, and the list of your decorations and commendations."

Beckett blushed.

"And, of course, your Academy record. They should really look a lot more closely at the trophy cabinet."

Beckett groaned. "This isn't fair."

"Sure it is. I'm turning that crop of raw material into cops. I'll use every underhand trick at my disposal. You're about six of them, all at once."

"Just don't tell them I'm a turned trick," Beckett said. "I don't think that's the message we want to get across."

Barlow doubled up laughing. "Good one. Next class is on Thursday, Beckett. It'll be a new group, and you'll have this group back next Tuesday. Shall we go discuss what to do with them?"

"Sure. I was thinking that some practical examples of casework, where they have to do the detecting, would be a good exercise…"

"How did it go?" Castle asked, waiting outside the Academy.

"Okay, I think," Beckett said. "Can we go home now? It's really tiring, teaching."

"Will you tell me all about it over dinner?"

"Sure." She smiled softly. "Thanks for not coming with me today. It was a bit…well, I had to assert my authority pretty damn fast, and if you'd been there it wouldn't have worked as well. By next week it should be fine."

"Scared them into submission."

"Yep." She bared teeth in a vicious nearly-smile. "One idiot. Not such an idiot now."

"Tell me all about it," Castle bounced. "I wanna hear every detail."

"You always do," Beckett chided, but her tone negated any hint of criticism.

Over dinner – Thai takeout – Castle questioned Beckett relentlessly for every shred of detail, until he'd dissected every last neuron for the tiniest fraction of memory.

"Stop," she said at last. "My brain hurts. I can't tell you anything more."

Castle tightened the arm around her. "Nothing?"

"Nope. You know everything."

"In that case," he murmured darkly, "I wanna ask you a different question."

"Mm?"

He didn't ask with words: simply dipped his head and kissed her; sliding a hand into her hair and cupping her skull; invading her mouth. She gave back, still incredibly cautious with her left arm, but folding at the elbow to have her hand on his shoulder, showing him as best she could that she wanted to be hugging him properly, with all her previous strength.

"I like that answer," he preened, lifting off, leaving her breathing harder and draped over his chest. "How about some more – how did you manage that?" All his shirt buttons were undone.

"Manage what?" she teased.

"My shirt. You've sneaked in."

"Your hand is on my back, under my shirt. I'm simply making sure I get my share." Her hand slid down from his shoulder to his chest, and petted. She frowned. "I still can't move it properly. This is as far as it'll go."

"But it's getting better," Castle reassured. "Three weeks ago you couldn't have done that. It's getting better all the time," he sang, in a velvet baritone.

Beckett smiled, and snuggled in. "It could get even better," she enticed.

Castle's eyes darkened and a lazy smile appeared. "Oh?"

Beckett said nothing, but turned her face up, pulled Castle's head down with her right hand, and kissed him with full-on aggression. It lit him up. He turned the tables, ravaged her oh-so-willing mouth, then hauled her up and into her bedroom without Beckett issuing a peep of protest. He sat on the bed, hands around her waist, holding her in front of him. "All these buttons," he said. "They're in the way." He opened the top one, and pressed a kiss to the centre of her clavicles. Her hands hit his shoulders, and pushed his shirt away. He stopped for a second, shrugged it off, and smiled. "Don't be impatient. We've got all night."

Another button opened, with a delicate trace of one thick finger down into the vee. Another kiss. Then another button, and kiss. Beckett's breathing quickened. Castle smiled against her skin. "Pretty," he said, as another button opened, revealing black lace. "And front fastening. I like front fastenings."

"I can't do back fastenings just now."

"I could," Castle said cheerfully, "if only you'd stay with me like I keep asking you to."

"I'd be in the way. Anyway, I like my own bed."

"I like your bed too," he said, bouncing a little on its edge. "But I'd like it a lot better if I was in it with you. Even so, my bed is much more comfortable and a lot bigger, so you'd like it. It's got me in it, too. Castle's cuddles, at your service all night long."

Beckett boggled. Cuddles? Was that some new term from the cool kid lexicon? What he was doing was not cuddling. Cuddling was substantially less erotic than the movement of Castle's lips and fingers, presently moving over her breasts in a way that was rapidly eliminating any tendency to think. React, sure. The difficult thing was reacting without jerking her shoulder.

Castle's lips wandered over the edge of the lace. Beckett took a very deep breath, which gave him a better angle. He took full advantage, which suited Beckett just fine. "I think your shirt is in the way," he said suavely, flicked open all the rest of the buttons, and slipped it from her shoulders. Her dress pants followed, puddling on the floor. "Matching," he rasped. "I like it."

"So did I," Beckett snipped, completely spoiled by her gasp as Castle's mouth tried a tiny, teasing nip.

"I like it a lot." He tugged gently, and she moved closer into the gap between his knees. "I have an idea."

"Not a crazy theory?"

"An idea. I think you're not wincing every time you step too hard. You even had your heels on today, and may I remind you just how sexy those high heels are?"

"Your point?"

"I think that if you're not in pain every time you move a little, we could, mm, try to switch things up a little bit."

"What makes you think I'd be up for that?"

Castle grinned in the manner of a hungry lion. "Something about you being in your heels and black lace in front of me…and not shooting me."

"Could be arranged."

"Then you wouldn't find out just how good I could make you feel."

"Cocky."

"Truthful."

"Prove it," Beckett said, with a feline, challenging smile.

"With pleasure."

Beckett found herself sitting on the bed, and then being carefully lowered back, her bra disappearing.

"Heels off, I think. They'll rip the sheets." He took off her shoes, massaging her feet as he went.

"Mmmm," she hummed, eyes dreamy. "Nice."

The massage moved up over her ankles, over her calves, on to her knees. She moved a little, demanding more.

"Don't wriggle too much, or you will hurt. This isn't supposed to hurt."

"Doesn't hurt."

"Good." His confident touch moved a little further up. Her legs moved slightly, allowing him to glide higher still. Then he stopped. Beckett made a displeased little noise. "Wait a moment." He stood up into her sightline, and slowly toed his shoes off, then undid his belt and pants, kicking them away. His socks followed, till he was wearing nothing but boxers. "There." He sat down beside her. "Now, where was I?"

"Here," Beckett purred, taking his hand and putting it high on her thigh. "Right here."

Castle stretched back to lie down, then propped himself up on his elbow over her. She nibbled her lip provocatively. "I thought you suggested changing it up," she murmured seductively.

"I did." Castle's wicked fingers moved. Beckett gasped. "Will this do?" His fingers moved again, shifting the thin cotton and lace edging of her panties. She felt the heat coalesce at her core, and gave a soft, sexy sound that made him do it again. Scalding heat rushed through her. His fingers slid the fabric over her, and his mouth took hers; his lower arm under her pillows to reach around her and hold her gathered against him. His other hand continued to play; teasing at the damp entrance, sliding over the sensitive knot of nerves, back and forth until she emitted whimpering tiny moans and his name. He fingers teased again, slipping in and out, over and over, forward and back; his hand at her waist holding her against his broad chest so that she couldn't, wouldn't jerk. The slow motion took her higher and higher until at last she sighed and spasmed and subsided; soft in his embrace.

Her right arm crept around him, then tugged. "I think we could go further," she enticed. "Promise I'll be careful."

"You sure?" Castle said.

"Yeah. Come here." She pulled him down to her lips, and as he rose over her pushed his boxers down, awkwardly and one-handed, but with full, seductive intent. "Take them off."

"I will. And then I'm going to take yours off."

Castle stripped his boxers, to be naked next to her for the very first time; rock hard and impressive. Beckett smiled, catlike, and reached to stroke. They'd never got this far at the cabin: too much in pain, then too scared to risk damaging her further so early in her recovery. But here, now, relaxed and sure that Castle would take care that she didn't overdo it, she wanted him within her, around and over her. Her Castle.

He slid down, and began to peel her panties away, slow and assured, leaving her bared to him as he was to her. "So gorgeous. So hot."

"Kiss me, Castle."

He met her lips, shifted to be between her legs, right where she wanted him; she reached down to place him exactly where he should be; and when he pushed forward he was totally, perfectly right. She clasped him to her, still one-armed but forceful. "Mine," she said into his kiss. "All mine." And then she stopped talking or thinking in any way at all, as he moved and she responded, held down by gentle weight on her chest, most of Castle's broad bulk on his elbows. The light hair of his chest rubbed her nipples, but his strength and control as he thrust left her moaning and trying to move, so high up she could only feel. He moved faster, harder, and tension built between them until they came together in glorious bursting release.

Castle rolled off to lie tucked beside Beckett, holding her hand. She twined a leg over his, stroking with her toes, breathing gradually slowing. "Mine," she said again.

"You're mine too," Castle said. "Never giving you up, Beckett. No matter how many arms you lose." He rolled up and kissed her softly. "Though I might call you Venus if you do this again."

"Ha-ha. I'm not planning to do it again."

"Good. I really can't stand seeing the woman I love in pain" – he came to a shuddering halt. "Uh…"

"Love you too," she mumbled, blushing, and kissed him hard.

Four months later…

"PT's done!" Beckett announced. "I need to keep doing the exercises for myself, but otherwise I'm back. Mobility is just fine – a fraction less than it was, and I need to pay attention and go straight back if that shoulder or arm hurts, in case it's the same muscles, but I'm done!"

"Great," Castle cheered. "So now what?"

"Back out on the job for real. You ready for that?"

"Born ready."

"Good, 'cause we've got a case."

"What is it?"

"They found a body behind a Dumpster, and called me first."

"Why?"

Beckett laughed. "The body has no arms."

Fin.

Thank you, as ever, to all readers and especially reviewers, guest and logged in. You are all greatly appreciated.

For those of you who don't already know, I write original crime novels under the name SR Garrae, so if you like my fanfics the chances are you will like those. The series is available through Amazon as Kindle or paperback: Death in Focus, Death in Camera, Death in Sight and Death in Frenzy. Give them a go!