AN: Let's keep it short & sweet this time. As much as I love the thrill of the chase, sometimes you've just gotta be caught ;)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Now this is what I call getting lucky," he whispers in her ear as she falls back to sleep.

Beckett woke slowly, enveloped by an intoxicating sense of warmth. She snuggled deeper into the source of the warmth, a content sigh escaping her. Lips brushed at her neck – that was unusual. Not exactly something she was used to waking up to. She tried to clear the sleep from her mind, remember exactly where she was.

"Morning," warm breath swilled in the air surrounding her ear, a husky morning voice alerting her to exactly where she was, with Castle, in Castle's bed, in Castle's arms for that matter. Realisation dawning on her, she waited for the overwhelming rush of panic she was sure would come – it did. Her body froze momentarily as Castle drew her closer to him. She was clearly awake – somewhat, and hadn't thrown him off her, he wasn't wasting the opportunity for a second.

"Castle," she warned carefully.

"Mmm," he hummed in her ear, lips brushing against it as he did. She couldn't control the involuntary shudder that wracked through her body at his touch, the intimacy of the moment. She found herself intensely conflicted. This, waking in Castle's arms – without the cuffs – this was perfection, bliss. But there was the ever present issue of being ready – which she wasn't, her mother's case remained unsolved and her wall was intact. Was it really though? Just yesterday she had been ready to hand Castle a ladder and help him over. She could still do that, if it was like this, the moment of contentment she was in mere seconds ago waking with Castle. Thoughts of yesterday resurrected thoughts of Dunnings and of Tessa, she was the one who was putting Castle in danger. Alexis may have called her last night, but she could tell the girl most certainly did not support her knack of dragging Castle to face the firing squad. She needed space to think. She could feel Castle beginning to worry, her body had stiffened in his arms since she woke and her brow was creased as she lay silently, lost in thought. She knew he knew she was worrying. He always knew. When it came to her anyway.

"Castle, I've been wearing the same clothes for like the past two days now. Can I have a shower? Borrow some clothes?" she asked gently, shifting in his arms to face him. He didn't bother to tone down the look of adoration in his eyes as he gazed at her.

"Sure. Lazy stay in bed all day clothes or a suit?" he replied coyly. "I would go get something of Alexis', but it is much too early for her to be awake and happy to find me rummaging through her things."

"As long as bed clothes don't constitute my birthday suit, then I guess that would be fine," she winked in response.

"Dang, that was what I meant by the suit option. Poor choice, Beckett," he grinned. "There's t-shirts in that draw," he gestured, "and boxers or tracksuit pants in the one above it."

"Thanks," she smiled. He carefully withdrew his hold on her body and she pulled herself from the bed. She rifled through the t-shirt draw. "God, Castle. How many novelty t-shirts do you have? You know, that one from Tessa really would have completed your collection," she said, arching her eyebrows at him. He was a little tempted to stick out his tongue in response, but he managed to restrain himself.

"Very funny, Beckett," he frowned. But it wasn't genuine, his eyes were still twinkling. How could they not be, with the bed-haired Beckett before him, smilingly rummaging through his clothes for something to wear. She pulled a t-shirt from the drawer with a little gasp.

"Oh, this one is perfect, Castle," she exclaimed, clutching it tightly to her chest.

"Which one?" he replied curiously, trying to remember all of the shirts in that drawer and the most likely of them to have taken her fancy.

"You'll just have to wait and see," she shook her head teasingly.

"Tell me," he whined.

"Nope. Don't want to ruin the look on your face when you see me in it. I think it'll be priceless," she smirked, biting her lip in a captivatingly suggestive manner. He was ridiculously curious now and also feeling very, very impatient.

"Well, hurry up then," he gestured madly at the bathroom. "You're taking way too long, Beckett. I might get impatient and come into the bathroom to check it out, the shirt…obviously," his tone was overflowing with mirth.

"You wouldn't dare," she asserted jokingly – somehow managing to communicate a genuine threat as well – as she drew some boxers from a drawer and made her way to the bathroom. She stopped at the door, turning to glance at him. "Castle, don't move. I'll be coming back to bed," her voice was rich with teasing, but he knew there was a sense of levity behind it, she meant what she said. She was going to have a shower and then come crawling back into his bed, with him. He should get kidnapped more often. This was already shaping up to the best day of his life. He pushed the niggling thoughts of the case and Dunnings further to the back of his mind. The present was clearly much more important. He wasn't going to sacrifice a second of it to worrying about some psychopath; the rest of the day would be for that. It was barely morning and he was going to start this day on the right foot. From what he'd seen of the day so far, he was off to a flying start.

Beckett was barely gone five minutes before she was pushing the door of the bathroom open and standing before him. He was so distracted by the dark wet curls of her hair and the drips that were forming on her shoulders that he forgot to take note of her t-shirt, his t-shirt. After a few seconds of him staring somewhat dopily at her, she cleared her throat.

"Enjoying the view there, Castle?" she questioned, her tone light.

"Immensely," he breathed throatily.

"Mmm, forgetting something?" she smoothed her hands down the t-shirt, Castle's eyes followed the curve of her body. He was really having a hard time reading the slogan on the shirt, the woman within it was just too distracting. He pressed his eyes closed momentarily, refocussed and chuckled loudly, throwing a hand over his mouth, remembering the other occupants of the house were undoubtedly still sleeping.

"That is without a doubt the best thing I have ever seen," he finally responded after his laughter subsided. Her eyes lit up in response. "You know, I kind of thought you'd hurt me for owning it. That's why I've never shown it to you," he added.

"Yeah, depending what mood you caught me in, definitely a possibility. Please tell me you don't wear it in public?" she pursed her lips, unsure if she was completely serious about the last part or not, she did kind of like it after all.

"Only to a couple of writers conventions," he shrugged.

"Excellent," she replied dryly. He grinned at her. Despite her tone, he could tell that she was a little bit flattered. He raised his eyebrows at her and patted the empty side of the bed gently. She silently communicated her agreement by moving towards him and clambering back into the bed. She lay just out his reach, arms curled into her chest, facing him. He gazed at her a moment longer.

"So…" he hedged carefully, unwilling to push her further away, back behind her walls and out of his bed.

"So, I think we need to talk," she admitted with a sigh, chewing hesitantly on her bottom lip. He nodded, manoeuvring his head closer to hers so he could look her more directly in the eyes. He waited for her to continue. His intentions were clear; the ball was in her court so to speak. She kept gnawing on her lip, trying to string her thoughts into a coherent sentence. He was suddenly worried she'd cut through the delicate skin of her lip, he gently raised his fingers to brush against her lower lip. The movement calmed her and she released a rush of air. "Castle, it's my fault Dunnings is after you. It's my fault Tessa took you," she pulled his hand from where it rested beside her face and drew it to her eye level, frowning intently. "It's my fault that you're hurt." Castle withdrew his hand a little, his wrists were purpled and bruised from being bound to the chair and he could tell Beckett was beating herself up about it.

"They're just bruises, Beckett. Besides, it's not your fault. None of this is your fault…"

"But it Castle, it is," she interrupted, pulling his hand back to her, kissing his wrist gently. "I'm the reason you this whole thing happened to you…" she trailed off momentarily, the sting of guilt biting through her. "I have to stay away from you to keep you safe," she asserted finally. His mouth fell open, gaping at her.

"That's it, that's your big hang up to us finally being us?" he managed to force out through the shock of it all. It was worry for him that was holding her back. "That doesn't matter, Beckett…" he begun.

"It does matter. You matter," she hissed, cutting him off. Her words threw him. He couldn't bare another second of this madness. He was done. Done with waiting. Done with over-thinking. He closed the gap between them and his lips were on hers before she had the chance to process the movement. The kiss was fierce. In that moment she didn't care that she was pulling him deeper into trouble, his lips crushed her resolve and she was kissing him back with her all. His arms found her, wrapping around her torso and tugging her gently into her chest to deepen the kiss. She moaned and he pulled away, his forehead resting on hers, his grip around her tightening.

"I am safer with you," he emphasized every word intently. "I need you," he added with the same pointed tone. It was too much. This time she was the one heatedly fusing her lips to his.

"Always," she whispered as they drew apart, their breathing ragged.

"Always," he echoed gently, kissing her lightly on the lips. There, wrapped in each other's arms, the worries of the world, the fears of whatever Dunnings had planned, slipped away momentarily. As they relaxed curled together, a couple more hours of sleep were easy to find.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Unfortunately, there was a real world to get back to, a case to solve. Castle's alarm woke them, still early, but this time bright. Castle felt the double meaning as the sun streamed into his room and he was greeted with the soft smile of the woman he loved. Definitely a bright morning. He tugged her from his bed and into the kitchen, leading her to a stool. He caressed the back of her neck with a gentle trail of kisses as she sat down. He felt her shoulders relax and he drew a small moan from her lips.

"Breakfast," he murmured against her neck, his hands falling to rest on her hips.

"You're going to eat me?" she gasped in mock fear, a twinkle in her eyes.

"You're impossible," he muttered, moving from her to the stovetop. "Eggs? Waffles? Preference?" he gazed at her, too overcome by the light blush still on her cheeks from his kisses to form actual sentences.

"Surprise me," she merely shrugged in response.

"That I can do," he replied, a sparkle in his eyes.

"Edible, Castle," she reminded him gently. It was his turn to shrug, a small smirk forming on his lips. He busied himself preparing what looked to be a typical hot breakfast which she found vastly reassuring. There was a knock on the door as he was in the middle of scrambling eggs.

"Can you get that," he threw over his shoulder. She smiled at him and slipped from the stool, quickly making her way to the door. She opened it, a hand in her still damp hair and a subtle smile curling her lips. Her hand dropped abruptly and her expression slackened, fear filling her eyes at the person before her.