Kate studies her reflection in the mirror. Her skin is red. Red-red as if she were covered with hives. It still burns, sensitive to the touch, prickling all over her skin, jabbing deep down into the tissue. So much blood raised to the surface and thumping in her extremities, even still, that it pumps weakly through her veins, gasps to oxygenate. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears, her heart trying its best to catch up. Her head throbs from her holding her breath for so long. She didn't mean to. Just couldn't do anything about lungs with a mind of their own. She told them to inflate. They told her to focus.

The rash of crimson rising on her face, around her mouth, down her neck, chest, inner thighs - everywhere his face with pin-like whiskers has been - startles her. It grows more noticeable with every passing second as her skin cools down and pales, throwing it into sharp relief. The remainder of the searing flush will recede back to its rightful home soon but the steel wool etchings will last a while. Proof.

Oh god. Did that really just happen? No, of course not. The crescent sting of teeth marks on her shoulder scream otherwise. So yeah, she just had sex with Castle on her kitchen counter at 4:00 in the morning. Time doesn't really matter though does it? Sex with Castle. Right. Oh god. She's going to need to Clorox that counter before she uses it again. For cooking.

He's out there right now. It's unnerving when she thinks about that fact it unleashes a fluttering hoard. He's out there. Right now. Waiting. She needs to pull it together. Stop that little smile that crooks the corner of her lip. Come up with a game plan. Memories are pushing their way to the front of the line making it hard to think of much else. This is not how she thought it would happen. Fine. She's thought about it. She can admit that. But she thought that it would be…different. Probably because her mind would have burst into flames and she would never have been able to look him in the eyes again if she sat around picturing what just happened. She hadn't been expecting such aggression, almost vicious in its unrelenting. That was just from her. He was worse. Almost four years worth of pent-up sexual frustration directed at one another combusting, creating a backdraft, going up like a tinderbox. She wears the burns to prove it.

If it was just sex she could leave the bathroom. If he was just her partner she would have already left. She's screwed. Figuratively. It's… She knows what it is but even in her bathroom mirror she won't admit it. It's complicated. He's more than her partner. More than her friend. Was he now her lover too? Wow. That feels strange. Not bad. Technically accurate but really is that what he is? No. What's going on here, with them, is too complicated. Needs its own term. Castle could probably come up with something clever… Yeah she'll just get him right on that. Shit. What is she going to do?

Kate is not hiding in the bathroom. It just takes time. Pee. Wash hands. Brush teeth. Redo ponytail. File that hangnail. Redo ponytail again. Stall. Stalling's not the same as hiding. She'll come out, just has to collect herself. Kate looks to the clock on the wall. Has she really already been in here twenty minutes?

What if he took her momentary retreat as a rejection and left? No. Not even if he misunderstood and thought it was a rejection would he leave. Not Castle. Enough of this. She turns the handle and pulls.

He's wearing shoes and putting the broom and dustpan away when she comes out. Oh yeah, the water glass. She'll need to remember to pick another one up at Crate & Barrel next time she passes one. Or…

"You owe me a glass."

He laughs then thinks better of it and mocks a frown. "I'm not the one who broke it. And I was nice enough to clean it up."

"You made me break it. And I call cleaning it up a sign of guilt."

"Blame shifter." He turns so she can get a good look at his shoulder. "What about this?" He presents the two inch tear at the seam.

"You can fix that."

"There's blood on it."

"Whatever, there is not." She takes a closer look. Oh. An umlaut no bigger round than pencil leads drying black.

"Well it's your blood. Not my fault."

"From where *you* scratched me."

If he wanted to go tit for tat in all the ways they marked each other she could show him the bite marks on her shoulder. "I didn't hear you complaining at the time."

He gets that look in his eyes she has just now become intimately acquainted with and it makes her stomach clench.

His voice drops. "Call it even?"

"Deal."

They stand there looking at each other. They do that. She knows she should say something. Something to advance them, hurdle-jump them right past any awkward silences or, worse still, them having to talk about it.

"Would you like some coffee?" It's still so early. She has more than enough time to go back to bed and get a couple more hours sleep. But what to do with him? Take him with her? That seems dangerous and she doesn't know why. She certainly doesn't want him to go. Coffee seems like the best choice. She selects the highest octane pod (her favorite) from the wire basket and inserts in it the little pot.

Castle reaches for her, snags her hand.

"Kate."

She stops and turns but when she sees his face, sees where he's heading, she panics. She jerks her hand away.

Her words bite. "No, Castle. Don't."

It would have been just as effective to have picked up her sig and shot him in the chest. She honestly didn't mean that the way it must have sounded. He could touch her hand, hold it, her. She just couldn't talk about *them* right now. It was too much too soon.

He turns and for a moment she thinks he's about to bolt through the door. He walks over and slumps at the end of the couch instead. Scrubs a hand across his face as if he's trying to rub something grotesque off.

Damn. She can fix this. She goes to him, kneels in front of him, pulls his hand off his face.

"Hey."

She finally makes his eyes meet hers. Wow. It's all there. She hurt him. How was that so easy?

"Here," she laces their fingers together and clasps.

He's surprised. And confused. Huh. Maybe that's not the problem.

"I'm sorry."

He says it, not her. Wait, what?

"What? Why?"

"I know better. I know the rules. I was about to push. I shouldn't."

Well that stings a little.

Though she did just panic when he tried to start a conversation. And she had been hiding in the bathroom. Okay. Maybe she's a little closed off. She can fix this too.

She scoots forward on her knees and pushes her way between his legs, a hand on his thigh.

"Have we ever been here before?"

"What?"

She tilts her head and doesn't repeat herself.

"No."

"Then don't assume you know what is going to happen."

Oh. Surprise again, this time the good kind, and a slow moving smile. She releases the breath she didn't mean to hold. God that feels good. She wants to take him by the good kind of surprise more often.

"Yeah?"

She smiles. The big one. The one that crinkles the side of her eyes, shows that tiny sliver of upper gums on the side. The smile she saves only for him. "Yeah."

He wants to kiss her. Is about to. So she beats him to it. Light and testing. She's had his mouth, gone spelunking there, knows its depths, now she was to map the ridge of his lips. He knows what she's doing and lets her, doesn't try and change it. Just places a hand on her waist. She studies, lavishes and creates her topography.

With a sigh she pulls away but leaves the finger that curls around the top of his ear.

Everything she didn't allow him to say in the kitchen is pooled in his eyes. She sees what she refused to hear. That's alright. She can handle it this way. It's only fair too. Because she's about to show him everything she's too scared to admit.

Kate stands up and he gurgles a protest, words catching in his throat.

She tugs at his hand.

"Come on. Let's go to bed."

Eyebrows shoot to the heavens. Oh yes. She's going to *love* surprising him.

A/N: This has not been betaed. All mistakes grammatical and otherwise are mine.