Author Note:
Thanks for all the reviews and favorites guys. I'm so happy that everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter because it was the one I enjoyed writing the most so far. Sorry for the delay in posting this update; a hectic couple of weeks combined with spending a lot of time not liking this chapter made for a lot of procrastination.
This will diverge from the episodic recount I've been going into for a couple of chapters after this because there are things I want to cover in terms of their relationship, which it wouldn't have made sense for the show to cover during S4. Again, this chapter will have an additional M-rated insert which will be published at a later date.
This chapter follows on from Cuffed and I'm pretty sure it goes without saying now, but any dialogue used from the episode is in italics.
Thanks as always to Ally, for being my beta and picking out my British-ness ;)
Chapter Four
Beckett comes out of the Captain's office, feeling thoroughly chastised after assuring Iron Gates that Castle had little influence over te predicament they'd found themselves in that day. She'd willingly taken the blame for it, figuring that the Captain already has more than enough reasons not to like him, without this reinforcing her belief that to him this is all just play-pretend.
Her face splits into a grin when she finds him still waiting by her desk, and her happiness spills over into her voice when she acknowledges the fresh cup of coffee on her desk. "You didn't have to wait for me." Her eyes meet his in a silent show of gratitude.
"Yeah well, I figured it was maybe about time I started pulling my weight around here." Castle motions towards the pile of paperwork on her desk.
Her brow shoots up at that. She studies his face, her forehead creasing up in surprise and suspicion written all over her features. "Okay, what are you up to?"
He gives her a winning smile; one that momentarily distracts her, although she's definitely not buying it. She figures that whatever it is, she'll find out sooner or later. And quite honestly, all she really cares about right now is going home. Everything else can wait.
"This has got to be the strangest brush with death that I've ever had," Beckett reflects, her words escaping amidst a sigh as she flexes her wrist to ease some of the discomfort where the cuffs had been digging in all day. She takes off her blazer, and then drains half the contents of the mug in about four mouthfuls.
Castle grins, glancing up at her. "Me too, but I'll tell you, after that experience if I ever have to be hitched to someone it would be you."
She's glad she replaced her mug on her desk because his words render her breathless and cause her to momentarily forget how to swallow before a sudden warmth flares in her chest. "Hitched?"
Her lip twitches in mild amusement and if she wasn't so shell-shocked she'd have laughed out loud at the expression on his face. "Hitched? No I didn't say hitched, I said cuffed. Handcuffed, not hitched. The colloquial or any connotation or meaning." Castle rapidly starts to backtrack and Beckett feels the tightness in her chest start to decrease. She's careful not to catch his eye, because he'll almost certainly tease her about the smile that's threatening to spread across her face. She grabs her winter coat, grin widening when he immediately reaches out to help her slip it on over the turtleneck.
"It's okay, Castle." She's quick to let him off the hook, and notes the look of relief on his face. "I understood what you meant and for what it's worth –" She hesitates, taking a quick scan of the bullpen to check it's empty before closing the gap between them and linking the hands that had been joined all day. "If I ever have to spend another night handcuffed to someone again, I wouldn't mind if it was you either."
"Really?" Beckett bites back a grin; the satisfied smirk on his own lips and the slightly incredulous note in his voice not lost on her. There's a definite glint of mischief in her eyes as she untucks her hair from the collar of her coat and slides her motorcycle helmet under her arm, tossing him a coy look and choosing her next words deliberately carefully.
"But next time, let's do it without the tiger."
She walks away with an additional bounce in her step and a sway to her hips which leaves Castle stood there, mouth slightly agape. "Next time?" Beckett merely tosses a glance over her shoulder, smirking at him stood dumbstruck in the middle of the bullpen and she isn't surprised when she hears his footsteps follow in her wake.
"So there's uh – there's gonna be a next time, huh?" His words are hot against the side of her face.
The smile plays on the corners of her lips and she sinks her teeth into the bottom one in the way she knows gets his attention. "I'd say that's a pretty safe bet." The elevator doors slide open but Kate makes no move to get on. Instead she puts a hand in the doorway to prevent it from closing again and jerks her head towards Castle. After you. Usually she wouldn't make a big deal out of it but after their conversation while they were joined together, it feels like something she should acknowledge.
She deliberately hangs back and can tell he looks pleased by the gesture, brushing up against her none too subtly as he sets foot in the elevator. "I'm looking forward to it already." Castle smirks, descending on her as soon as the doors have obscured them from view. She lets out a groan as her back hits them, helmet slipping from under her arm and landing with a thud on the floor as her hands shoot up to grab the lapels of his jacket, pulling him to her. She's dimly aware of Castle reaching out to hit the emergency stop button and when the elevator comes to a sudden halt they're both rocked by the force of the impact.
Their lips meet with a surprising gentleness in a delicious contrast to the current hungry undercurrent flowing between them. Each time their mouths collide leads to a kiss more heated than the last, until Castle eventually breaks the moment, lips grazing her jaw and his forehead finally aligning with hers. Their breathing is laboured. Although the intensity of their make out session has done nothing to lessen the tension thrumming in her veins, she's able to draw some relief from touching him the way she's been wanting to ever since she regained the full use of both of her hands. Taking a moment to compose herself she leans across him, releasing the button.
The elevator begins to move again and Beckett moves just far enough away so that the distance between them is respectable, but she immediately misses the contact between them. Castle replaces his hand at it's usual spot on her back and despite the look she gives him, she doesn't move away, his touch setting her nerve endings on fire, the heat pooling low in her stomach. "You wanna come over for a movie night?" Castle asks, and she's relieved for the intervention because her thoughts have taken a decidedly less-PG turn.
"Uh –" She starts, images of them burned onto her brain and she knows he feels her back ripple beneath his hand when her body involuntarily betrays her. She wants to say yes to him but something stops her. She's been silently conscious that they haven't spent a night apart since she showed up at his apartment after the sniper case. Add that to the fact they've been cuffed together all day and she's starting to feel slightly stifled. She releases a long breath, feeling the frustration starting to leak into her emotions, knowing she's overthinking it but being powerless to make it stop. She looks across at Castle. "Not tonight," Beckett answers finally. "Don't take this personally Castle –"
"But you need some space," Castle supplies and their eyes simultaneously fall to the wrists which had been joined and where the bruises are just starting to appear. She casts her gaze upwards, because he can probably hear the silent commentary running through her mind. The elevator doors open onto the parking garage and Castle leans across, letting his lips brush hers. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
Beckett can hear the question in his voice and for the second time in as many minutes she finds herself considering the implications of saying yes. Because he's seen pretty much all there is to see, both in the literal sense and metaphorically speaking but she's still holding something back and their relationship is progressing faster than she anticipated. "I'll let you know?" She answers him with another question. "I haven't seen my dad in a while so I was thinking of calling him for lunch."
If Castle can sense that she's not being entirely truthful then she's grateful he doesn't let on, pulling her in for another quick kiss and then letting go with the intention of heading out to grab a taxi. Kate watches him walk away, torn. He only takes a few steps before she makes a split second decision and calls him back. "Castle?" He spins around at the sound of his name and she produces the keys to her bike. "Can I offer you a ride home?" She laughs at the way his eyes light up and pulls open a locker, tossing him the spare helmet she keeps in there. "Don't look so excited, we're sticking to the speed limit."
True to her word, and much to Castle's chagrin, Kate does indeed stick to the speed limit. He doesn't really mind though, because she does allow his hands to wander from where they're gripping either side of her waist, every time they come to a standstill in rush hour New York City traffic. They weave between cars and the wind picks up, roaring in his ears and leaving him feeling elated but slightly deaf when she pulls up outside his building, abandoning her Harley at the edge of the sidewalk. When they remove their helmets, both of their cheeks are flushed and he's pretty sure the exhilaration on her face is the mirror image of his. "Enjoy that?" She regards him with an arched eyebrow, the corners of her lips curving upwards in amusement.
Castle's hands find her waist again and he pulls her into his arms, her body reacting on instinct and hips canting into his at the touch. "Loved it," He assures her in a timbre several octaves lower than normal. His eyes have darkened too and he's beginning to feel the physical effects their close proximity has on his body. There's no way he has her fooled into believing he's just talking about the ride. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"
"I'm sure," She answers, shaking her head slightly. "I'm sure you can keep yourself amused for twenty-four hours without me. I'll call you."
I'll call you, okay?
The words are startlingly similar to last time and he attributes this fact to the slight sting hearing them provokes. Although he attempts not to let it show, he must be unsuccessful because she jumps to rectify the situation. "Castle, I didn't mean –" She hesitates and he can hear the mild panic as she struggles to explain herself. "This isn't me running away."
"Well forgive me for being a little cautious, Kate, but the last time you asked me to give you space I didn't hear from you for three months." He regrets instantly the way his words come out, with more bite than he intended, even to his own ears.
"This isn't what this is, Castle!" She exclaims. "It's completely different."
"Is it?" This conversation is taking a decidedly serious turn; having gone from teasing to serious in the space of about a minute. They haven't talked about it; not since that day on the swings two months ago and somewhere in the back of his mind, it's been there. It simmers beneath the surface, playing host to every resentful thought that's seeped into his consciousness since the day she put up her walls between them. "I don't know what it is," He counters. "I don't think you do either, and that's what worries me."
She breaks their gaze first, leaving him with a feeling that he's just hit the nail completely on the head. "You're worried I'm going to get scared and bail on you? On us?"
"Should I be?" The words roll off his tongue before he can think them through, but he thinks he feels better for getting them off his chest. At least until she visibly seems to deflate in front of him, and then all he feels is guilty.
"I told you when we went into this that I don't find this easy. Castle, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here." Her voice has lost any of the defensiveness her previous statements have held, and a part of him wants to put an end to the conversation. But if they don't talk about it now, there might not be a later. "But I am trying."
They're stood a couple of inches apart now, both breathing heavily. "I know you are." Castle is the first one to break the silence, trying to dispel the awkward tension that now lingers between them. "Go home Kate. Go eat something and run yourself a bath. Read a good book. Take the weekend to clear your head and we'll talk about this again on Monday."
Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she nods in what he knows is as close as she gets to acceptance. "This is nothing to do with anything you have or haven't done, okay? It's about me." He can almost hear the words she isn't saying as well; it's always about me.
"I know, which is why you need some time to think before we talk about this anymore." Castle tells her patiently, pulling her to him so he can fuse his mouth against hers. He seems to hesitate for a fraction of a second, not knowing exactly what 'space' constitutes and eventually settling on, "If you need me though, call me." He leans into kiss her cheek and watches her drive away, ascending the steps to the loft when he can no longer see her.
Kate lets herself into her apartment and the first thing which hits her is the quiet, broken only by the constant hum of the fridge. The silence hadn't used to bother her but now it reminds her too much of the summer; of weeks spent in the middle of nowhere with only the sound of crickets chirping and a faulty fan whirring, for company.
She picks up the pile of mail from the mat, leafing through it to see if there's anything of importance. Putting the bills on the dresser by the door, she drops the junk mail in the bin and attaches a flyer from her local Chinese to the fridge.
It isn't just the silence that gets her. She's always loved this apartment and it has felt like home ever since she moved in. These days though, it goes to show exactly how much she's become accustomed to going over to the loft after work because when she's here now, she'd rather be anywhere else.
She hasn't been by in what has to be two weeks – at least not for more than a change of clothes - but it hasn't escaped her notice that everything from the makeshift murder board, darkening her living room, to the reminders of her breakdown two weeks ago, have become harder to stomach.
It's an overwhelming feeling to have. She's spent so long carrying her mom's murder around with her that it's almost surprising how much it hurts to feel like this. That anything can still affect her in that way. Kate swallows hard trying to dispel the lump in her throat and blink back the sudden moisture that has formed in her eyes.
Rummaging through her purse, in an attempt to distract herself from the morbid thoughts chasing themselves around the chambers of her brain, her fingers close around her phone. Kate drops down onto the couch and quickly falls into the familiar routine of checking first her text messages, then her emails and then Facebook. This takes up all of ten minutes. Now what?
She'd ordered herself Chinese, poured herself a glass of red and settled in with Patterson's new release, as per Castle's instructions, although she had to stifle a grin at what he'd think to her choice of reading material. She only makes it eleven pages before giving up, having read the same sentence about four times without it registering. Instead she marks her place and puts it back on the shelf, selecting her well thumbed advance reading copy of Heat Wave, recalling wistfully the injustice of how hard she'd had to angle for it in the first place.
When even that fails to hold her attention, Kate drops it beside her on the couch, pulling one of the cushions over her face and letting out a frustrated half scream. She doesn't know what to do with herself and for what has to be the tenth time since she walked through the door, she finds herself wondering what Castle is up to.
He's right though. She doesn't know what she wants – or at least – she's too scared to admit to it. She's bored and missing him and it's pathetic. She is Kate Beckett, NYPD detective and up until he came into her life, she never needed anyone.
She picks up her phone, cycling through her recent call list and hesitating when she gets to Castle's name. He told her to call if she needed him; she delights in the fact he'd come if she did call and there's an almost overwhelming urge to hear his voice. But he's right. She's conflicted and it's the fear of making a bad situation worse that causes her to keep scrolling.
Kate is just hesitating over calling her best friend, when it seems fate makes the decision for her and Lanie's contact picture appears on the screen. She almost jumps at the unfamiliar sound it's making, not used to hearing anything other than the pre-installed ringtones. It takes her several seconds to catch on and when she does, she realizes what Castle's behavior at the precinct was all in aid of. He must have thought he was being so clever.
"Hey Lanie."
She's torn between the desire to laugh or cry, but eventually the former wins out. For the first time since she walked through her apartment door, a giggle escapes her mouth. It quickly escalates into full blown amusement and she finds herself having to explain what she's finding so funny.
Eye of the tiger. Really, Castle?
Not twenty minutes later, Lanie appears at Kate's door, armed with a box of donuts and a bottle of red wine which puts anything in Kate's pantry to shame. "Damn, this is good stuff!"
The critical eye Lanie runs over her isn't lost on Kate, but she lets it go for her friend's peace of mind. "Well it sounded like the occasion called for it." She accepts the glasses Kate hands her from the cupboard one-handed, depositing the box she's still holding on the coffee table.
"I hope you didn't splurge on my account."
"Like I could afford this on my pay check." Lanie snorts, and laughing, Kate has to admit she makes a fair point. "Actually it was a gift."
"Lanie Parish, do you have a new man in your life?"
It doesn't escape her notice that the M.E suddenly becomes preoccupied with decanting the wine into their glasses. "It's too soon to tell." She offers evasively. "Although if he wants to keep showering me with gifts, you won't hear me complaining."
Kate makes an indistinct noise in the back of her throat and it diverts Lanie's attention back to her. "Anyway, rumor has it that somebody had an interesting day today." She arches an eyebrow and Kate manages a dry chuckle.
"That's one way of putting it." The detective smiles wryly. "It'll be a while before I can look at Central Park Zoo in the same light, that's for sure."
"Well at least you were in good company." Lanie teases and if she was hoping for a reaction, Kate doesn't disappoint.
The effect her words have is almost instantaneous as - for the second time that day - Kate both inhales and tries to swallow at the same time, prompting a coughing fit. Lanie passes her a wad of tissues to mop up the wine that has slopped over the edges of the glass, in the process, throwing her a sly sideways glance. In the time Lanie has known her, she's picked up a thing or two and Kate is well aware she can play the interrogation game easily as well as she does. The room has suddenly become about ten degrees warmer and there's no hiding the pink blush now spreading across the Detective's cheeks. "Something you want to tell me?"
No, nothing. The voice in her head counters insistently, but what has she invited Lanie over for if not to seek her perspective on the matter? "How long have you known?" Lanie doesn't reply and when a triumphant smirk appears on her lips, the penny drops and Kate realizes that she's just been played. "You didn't know, did you?" She asks accusingly.
"Know what?" Lanie feigns ignorance and Kate feels a stab of annoyance, because she knows what the M.E is trying to do. "Cat got your tongue?"
"I hate you," mutters Kate, from behind the rim of her wine glass and her friend only
laughs. "Castle and I we're - we're seeing each other." It surprises her just how good it feels saying that out loud and her words certainly seem to have shut Lanie up. "If I'd have known this is how you were gonna react, I'd have told you before now."
"I knew something had changed between you, the other week at the crime scene. The tension was off the charts," Lanie says when she finds her voice again. "But you never can tell with the two of you. Hell, I'd practically given up any hope of you realizing you're perfect for each other, any time before I retire."
Kate gives her a look, because her friend has just unknowingly echoed the conversation that she and Castle had been having earlier that day, re: her relationship with Javi. "You're a fine one to talk." She jibes gently; not yet in the habit of knowing when discussing Esposito is okay and when it's still too much of a sore point.
"Because you're my best friend, I'm willing to overlook that comment in favour of some details." Lanie brushes off her words, smirking. "Starting with when and how long you've been hiding this?"
Kate has the good grace to look slightly guilty although she has to stifle a laugh because the recrimination in Lanie's tone is easily outweighed by her curiosity. "Things started to change after the bank robbery." She admits. "I started to spend more and more nights at the loft – nothing happened," She adds sternly in response to the sly look that crosses Lanie's face, suddenly very glad she left out the part where they'd shared a bed. "All of a sudden it's like everything became less about our friendship and more about all the time I've spent holding back. I didn't tell you then because I wasn't even sure what we were doing." Hell, she still doesn't know what she's doing. "We agreed to take things slowly and see where that took us."
"And how did that work out for you?" Kate feels the flush creeping back up on her neck and glances away, feeling far too exposed at the all too knowing look Lanie gives her. "Like I even need to ask." Her friend laughs, presumably taking her silence to prove some kind of point.
"We haven't spent a night a part in over two weeks." Kate confides, worrying her lip between her teeth.
"And yet you don't sound completely thrilled about that," Lanie comments, as perceptive as ever.
Kate sighs, following suit and taking a donut from the box on the table and chewing on it
thoughtfully. "I love it," She admits, once she's swallowed her mouthful. "That's the problem."
The M.E's eyes narrow and she tilts her head to one side, "Okay you've lost me, backtrack a second girl, and tell me which part of that is problematic?"
Uncertainty clouds Kate's expression for a minute as she contemplates Lanie's words and she considers her own carefully. "We're spending too much time together and Castle isn't even irritating me anymore, well no more than usual. If anything he's less annoying now. I go over to the loft after work and it's starting to feel routine. We've been in this thing for a month Lanie. It's too soon for this to become normal." Kate gets to her feet pacing the floor of her apartment and gesticulating emphatically to make her point. She recalls the conversation from the precinct earlier that evening.
If I ever have to be hitched to someone it would be you.
It hadn't bothered her at the time; on the contrary she'd felt the warmth flare in her chest, igniting every nerve ending as she basked in the delight of watching Castle dig himself out of the hole. But now, added to everything else, it's her lack of anxiety regarding the statement which triggers the red flag. "He mentioned marriage and it didn't even bother me. I don't know what's happening to me." She's since had the glass of wine removed forcibly from her grip and both hands now rake through her hair in frustration.
"Oh honey." Kate looks at her friend through hands which are now covering her face and the singsong tone to her voice makes her immediately suspicious. "For the best detective in the division how is it that you're so damn clueless? You're in love with him Kate. Head over heels, hopelessly in love. I don't need to take a crack at police academy to realize that."
It's a measure of how worked up Kate has gradually become over the course of their conversation - or interrogation - that she doesn't reprimand her for that crack. Right now she's having to concentrate on breathing, alarmed at the matter of fact way in which Lanie is tossing the 'L-word' about. "But Lanie -"
"Nu-uh, I'm not done talking yet. So you're gonna sit, and you're gonna listen." Her friend silences her with a glare. "This isn't anything new. For four years the entire precinct has watched the two of you pushing each other's buttons and every time things got too real for you, you pushed him away because you weren't ready then. You've been to hell and back over the last few months, and he's still here Kate, right where he's always been. Don't push him away again."
"What if I still don't feel ready now?"
"Then you need to ask yourself if you ever will be," Lanie tells her. "And if the answer you come up with is no, then you need to let him know that and make peace with the idea of him moving on. Because you can't expect him to wait forever."
Kate's face whitens visibly in the dimly lit room, and she swallows down the sudden bile she can feel rising in the back of her throat, alarmed by the M.E's words and panicked by what her reaction earlier could have been construed as. "It might be a little late for that," She mutters, reaching miserably for another donut.
Lanie mutters something under her breath which sounds suspiciously like, "For the love of God." And fixes her with another infamous glare, one which would've made her quail if she hadn't been used to being on the receiving end of her looks by now. "If you tell me you're on the outs again I swear-"
"We didn't have a fight," Kate interrupts. "Well not exactly. I told him I thought we were spending too much time together."
To her credit, Lanie keeps the sighing to a minimum, something which Kate is expressly grateful for. "How did he take it?"
"He told me to take the weekend and work out what it is I want," Kate admits, guilt creeping in and mingling with the surge of frustration that has been bubbling beneath the surface. "But it's been two hours Lanie and it's too quiet. I'm bored and -"
"And what?" Lanie prompts her.
"And I miss him," Kate admits quickly. Her best friend's features rearrange themselves into a smirk and the detective narrows her eyes, hitting her with one of the couch cushions. "Shut up," She grouches. "This is ridiculous. I'm being ridiculous."
"Finally she realizes it!" Lanie teases, her laugh dying on her lips as this time Kate lets go off the cushion, hitting her squarely in the face. "Kate, you've been in this thing for four years. I don't think you need to be too concerned that you're moving too quickly." She still doesn't look convinced, her forehead knitting together in thought, so Lanie tries a different tack. "It's the same story, okay. You're just writing a new chapter."
There's silence for a moment as Kate mulls over Lanie's words, letting out a loud laugh as she realizes why they sound familiar. Because it sounds like an analogy he would use. "Castle must be rubbing off on you."
Lanie's eyes sparkle with mischief, "I'm sure I'm not the only one." She smirks and the blush that is on Kate's cheeks intensifies.
"Lanie!" Kate reprimands her, mock disapproval lacing her tone, before she decides to play the M.E at her own game. "I'm afraid I couldn't possibly comment."
"Spoilsport," Lanie laughs, draining the remainder of her glass.
"Since you're so keen on sharing tonight, I guess you're ready to narrow down what you and Espo were fighting about this morning?"
"Touche Detective." Her friend smiles but it no longer meets her eyes. "On that note, I'm gonna head out girl, maybe give Dylan a call before bed."
Kate just shakes her head. "And you say Castle and I play games," She comments dryly. "We've got nothing on you."
"You've got two years on us," Lanie points out. "So what you gonna do?"
Kate hesitates at that, picking the glasses up and leaving them upside down in the kitchen sink, before making a split second decision. "Hang on while I grab my jacket and I'll head out with you." She disappears into the coat closet and it's muffled but Kate can still make out Lanie crowing in victory.
Castle glances away from the tv at the knock at the door, which he's only half-heartedly watching anyway. He hadn't even entertained the idea of writing and Alexis was on her way out when he arrived home, shouting something about an internship over her shoulder as they passed each other on the stairs. It's going to be a long weekend. The knock sounds again and it's only reluctantly that he gets up to answer it.
He pulls open the door, revealing Kate standing there, sheepishly leaning against the doorframe. "Hey," He says, more than a little surprised to see her standing there after the way they'd left things.
"Hi," She answers back awkwardly, playing with the cuff of the oversized navy NYPD sweatshirt she's wearing. "Are you busy?"
"Not at all," Castle reassures her, because she's looking like anywhere would be more comfortable than this right now.
"Can we talk?"
"I thought we agreed to take the weekend -" He stops speaking when she reaches up and presses a finger to his lips.
"I don't need a couple of days Castle," She says firmly, eyes never leaving his. He just stares back in confusion wondering what can possibly have changed between a few hours ago and now.
"What do you need, Kate?" He grips her forearms to prevent her from closing the gap between them before he's had a chance to read anything into the look on her face.
"You. I need you."
Her words seem to ignite something in him at the same time he sees her confidence falter. His arms thread around her waist, reeling her in and capturing her lips in a hard kiss."Then where do you think you're going?"
They need to talk about what this means for them but judging by the fire he can see flickering behind her eyes, talking isn't high on her agenda right now. He tears his mouth from hers, traversing the same line that his fingers have just taken along the curve of her jaw and alternating between kissing and nipping. She rewards him with an almost animalistic growl and he tenses at the sound. Determined to hear it again, he redoubles his efforts against her neck, and she tilts her head to one side granting him better access.
"We - we need to talk about this," Kate says again and he feels a surge of pride and satisfaction that she's finding it equally difficult to focus. Despite her words, she doesn't resist when his hands tug on the bottom of her sweatshirt and raise her arms to make the task easier.
"Later." It's pretty much incomprehensible, amidst his mouth now paying homage to her scar, after also peeling the white tank top away from her chest. Castle's hands span her waist, sliding down and settling on her denim-clad ass.
"Something tells me you didn't come over here just to talk." There's something distinctly cocky about the way he regards her now. His fingers close around something hard, and when he removes the hand he slid into her back pocket, he's clutching her police cuffs. "Is it safe to assume you're wanting to make good on your statement from earlier Detective?"
Kate opens her mouth to respond but instead her eyes close and a gasp escapes as Castle rolls his pelvis against her, going agonizingly slowly. "Well?"
"I guess that would be a fair assumption, Mr Castle." She concedes breathlessly, all tongue and teeth. She winks at him and he's already done for. The wicked combination of her bedroom voice and eyes leave Castle convinced of what he thought the first time he ever laid eyes on her.
Kate Beckett is going to be the death of him one of these days.
And judging by the way she's now wielding the pair of cuffs, today is looking like a pretty safe bet.