A/N: Hey there, fellas! Sorry I suck so much at updating. Apparently this is my pattern and there's nothing I can do to change it. Meh. Thanks for rolling with it anyway ;)

There were very different opinions about this story and how I dealt with Beckett's character. Some thought she was OOC, some thought she was pictured as a slut... Well, this is my story and this is how I want to write it, but you are all entitled to an opinion and I respect that, so no reviews will be deleted or blocked. All I ask in return is a little bit of respect for what I do. I am not a professional writer (I am light years away from that) but it takes a lot of my free time to do this, and I do it because I love writing and I love this show. I think the least we all fic writers deserve is some respect and leeway to write whatever we want without being treated like shit. This is fanfiction, folks. It's supposed to be done for fun, so let's all chill and enjoy the experience, k? K.

Thanks for staying with me through my rant. Also, thanks for the support and all the nice words (I won't just focus on the bad stuff). You guys are awesome and I love being able to do this, even if it sucks :P

Big thank you to Tshlw for betaing for me! You rock, girl! Fried brain and all LOL. Luv ya!

So, it seems your birthday gift will be looooong, girly ;) I hope you keep enjoying this story. Love you!

He jumped up in bed when Alexis' cold hands on his face dragged him back from sleep. He was about to find out who was the killer on the intricate plot of a dream he'd been having, and he woke up with the words "damn it" on the tip of his tongue.

"Alexis? What's wrong?" He asked, his eyes trying to adjust to the dim light coming from his study. "Is it the giant coconut puff nightmare again?"

The girl frowned at that and shook her head confused. "Dad, I haven't had that nightmare since I was seven." She punctuated. "There's someone at the door. It's past 2 am. Who knocks at people's doors at this time?"

The writer got out of bed and grabbed his robe, wrapping it around his body and shoving Alexis towards the living room along with him.

The knocking was very insistent and it surprised him that he hadn't heard it first hand, instead of having to be woken up by his daughter. Whoever was behind his door was clearly running out of patience.

"You wait here, I'm gonna check out who it is." He instructed the girl, who looked at him with concerned eyes. "Don't move, ok?"

He looked at his daughter as she nodded at him and gave him a tight smile, her face still reflecting the apprehension she was feeling. He had been living the "cop life" for a year now, but his "little" girl was still not used to the new developments in their lives.

He peeked through the peephole, and he had to blink his eyes hard and look again to make sure he was not imagining things. On the other side of the door was none other than Kate Beckett, looking more than just a bit tipsy. She was swaying subtly from side to side and her eyes were hooded, as if her eyelids were extremely heavy.

He had no idea what had brought the detective to his door in such at state and at such a time, but he was not going to leave her waiting outside until he found out.

"Alexis, go back to your room." He muttered, tying his robe closed and working on the door lock.

"Who is it, dad?" The girl asked, pausing at the stairs. "Is everything ok?"

The writer nodded and gave her a sweet, reassuring smile. "Everything's fine, Pumpkin. Go back to sleep."

After making sure that his daughter was upstairs and out of hearing range, he finally opened the door.

Saying it was luck that the girl was gone by the time he opened the door would be an understatement. As soon as Beckett walked inside his loft, she threw her arms around his neck and started kissing him as if her life depended on it.

It took him a while to react. His arms were hanging slack at his sides and his eyes were wide open, as if he were waiting for his brain cells to start working again. Finally, something snapped inside his head and he pushed her away, holding her tightly by the shoulders and keeping her at a fair distance.

"Beckett? What the hell are you doing? Are you drunk?" He questioned her, his eyes trying to find some of the detective's uptight, severe self somewhere in her. "Kate?"

She giggled – she giggled? – And then tried to throw off his grasp to get closer to him. "Yes, Castle?" She asked with a voice so mellow, it made him squirm.

"What are you doing here?"

His stare was deep and searching. He wanted to find out what in the world had happened; how many bottles of vodka had been emptied that night or exactly which of the planets had aligned up in the sky, so that detective Kate Beckett had ended up at his door, wanting to jump his bones at 2 in the freaking morning.

Kate looked at him through hooded eyes; her thick, black lashes casting shadows on the sharp edges of her cheekbones. "I wanted to see you." She whispered, biting her lower lip right after.

God, she was so sexy. Even drunk and disheveled as she was in front of him, with her dress scrunched up, showing too much thigh, and her hair all messed up, probably from running her fingers through it all night, just the same way she had done mere seconds ago when he pushed her away; she drove him insane. But he couldn't just give in. It wouldn't be fair to any of them. Not in her state.

"Why?" He asked. His voice was low and steady, but gentle. "Why did you want to see me?"

She smirked and moved closer, her hands playing clumsily with the hem of his robe. "Oh, so I need a reason now?"

He stopped her hands and tipped her face up so she was looking into his eyes. "Yes, when you end up at my door, drunk and try to climb me like a tree at the wee hours of the morning, you do, Beckett. You hate me, remember?"

She laughed at that. "Seriously?" She asked incredulous. "You're really going to stop to question this right now, Castle?"

She caught him by surprise when she pulled on the knot of his robe and undid it, letting the garment fall open, as well as her mouth, as she gladly gaped at his naked chest in appreciation, before throwing herself at him once again, latching her mouth to his neck this time.

"Beckett." He gasped at the feeling of her mouth over his skin. "No. Stop. Please." He muttered again, trying to stop her advances without any success. His knees were starting to give up when he finally grabbed her shoulders and yelled, "Kate!"

"What?" She asked, clearly irritated. "Gosh, you're so frustrating!"

She tugged at the ends of his robe, trying to take it off completely and he stilled her hands. "Kate, no!"

"What's wrong with you, Castle?" She growled, yanking her hands from his grasp. "You've been trying to get into my pants since the day I met you, and now you're stopping me?" The furrow of her brows above her eyes and the perfect 'O' that she formed with her lips gave her a comical look, like a little kid tired of being scolded. "You're not having… you know…" She looked directly to his midsection, arching an eyebrow in question. "Problems?"

"WHAT?! NO! No problems down there, thank you very much, Beckett." He spat more than a little offended. "Now, can you look back up, please? This is getting a tiny bit uncomfortable."

He was getting redder by the second. Her eyes were glued to his groin now, as if she were using her nonexistent x-ray vision on him, and hell if it wasn't making him anxious and extremely self-conscious.

He could willingly prove to her that he was not having any kind of trouble down there. In fact, he was surprised that she hadn't noticed his growing erection through the thin fabric of his boxers yet.

Kate smirked smugly, nodding to herself and licking her lips, ruining his illusions of passing unnoticed. "I wouldn't use that word, but you're the writer here, not me."

Castle sighed, rubbing his face with both his hands. "Do you mind if we go to my office? Alexis sleeps upstairs. This is not something I want her to hear if she wakes up for some reason."

The detective bit her lip suggestively and started walking towards his study, her hips swaying slowly from side to side, hypnotizing him. She was not going to make it easy for him, was she?

When he turned around after closing his office door, he was greeted by the view of Beckett sitting on his desk. Her never-ending legs were hanging 12 inches away from the floor, swinging playfully back and forth, and she had lost her shoes along the way. She was leaning forward, gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself straight, but the posture was showing a little too much cleavage than what was healthy for Castle's sanity, exposing as well a very recent, very angry love-bite right between her breasts.

She smiled at him as soon as he faced her, her eyes going darker. "Come 'ere."

Castle tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, but it had become almost impossible now. It was clear that she had been with somebody else before she decided to pay him a late night visit, but what had him completely out of his mind was: why in the world would she come seeking him after having it on with some other guy?

He didn't even know how to keep saying no to her anymore. There was no way he would ruin the frail friendship they had built during the last year, or risk not having something deeper with her in the future, just because of some drunk, meaningless one night stand that they would both regret in the morning, even less now, knowing he hadn't been her first choice.

But, he wanted her so much. God knew it was taking all his self-restraint to keep himself from walking the eight feet separating them and ravishing her right there, on top of his desk, without even getting rid of their clothes. He needed her. He wanted to smell, taste and feel her soft skin, her luscious lips; run his fingers through the silky length of her hair, just get lost in her essence; in Kate, the woman, the person. Her. It would be so easy, but so very wrong.

"Beckett, I can't… We can't."

She hopped off the desk and walked closer to him. Slowly, measuring her steps. "Why not, Rick?" She asked, the fire in her eyes intensifying, but her voice staying low and controlled. "I stopped playing hard to get and now I'm not interesting anymore?" She purred. "Huh? Was that all that you liked, Castle? The chase?"

He took a step back and sighed loudly keeping a hand between them. "Where were you before you came here, Kate?" He inquired, his eyes boring into hers for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

"Out." She hissed, batting his hand away. "What does it matter?"

"It does to me." He replied. "You're drunk and not thinking straight."

She laughed at that. Hard, and too loud, and too fake. "I know perfectly fine what I am doing. Stop patronizing me, Castle. That's not what I want from you right now."

He stepped farther away, crossing his arms across his chest. "Then answer the question, Beckett. Where were you before you decided to come here?"

Kate huffed her annoyance, still trying to reduce the distance between them. "I was out, Castle! How does that even matter?"

"Oh, it does." He replied, piercing her with his severe glare. "Who gave you that hickey?"

She looked at him completely confused, obviously oblivious to the fact that Dennis, the creepy guy, had marked her so thoroughly. "What?"

He crowded her then, pressing her back against the backrest of an armchair and lowering the hem of her neckline with his index finger, very slowly, uncovering the angry mark.

"Oh." was all that came out of her mouth for a good long minute. "That is nothing."

TBC

Good stuff's coming real soon! :P Stay tuned, my friends.

In the meantime you can leave your comments below. They don't need to be good reviews, just polite, please :) Thank you so much for reading.