A co-authored story by chezchuckles, jstar1382 and griever11

How is it possible that Richard Castle is half undressed on the dirty floor of a service elevator, heading up (though not the elevator), with a still-writhing, panting Kate Beckett in his lap?

How has he not already touched her breasts, so ripe and offered up?

How has the universe played so dirty and low a trick on him?

"Castle," she grunts. "You're - ouch - on my ankles."

"Oh, no, so sorry," he groans, trying to shift. Because, right, yes, her legs are wrapped around his waist. Still. As they were all through that encounter in the hot, emergency-lighted darkness. "Here. I-"

She hisses and pulls her knees up, suddenly breaking them apart, and he yelps as her ass rocks against his groin. His very stiff, exponentially tight groin.

"Kate," he grits out. "Just - don't move. For one second. Just-" He grips her ankles under her pants, bows his head forward to her knee, breathes heavily.

Her fingers come to the top of his head, light, transient, and then suddenly she's running her hands through his hair and tilting his face up to hers.

She kisses him, another rough treatment of lips and tongue, teeth and ferocity. He groans - this is so not helping his situation - but he can't manage to care.

And he takes his opportunity - it may be his last - to reach inside her gaping shirt and cup her breasts in both hands, squeezing.

"Oh, God, yes," she moans, her mouth open against his. "Yes, but - oh no. The elevator is stopping on the ground floor. Damn it."

"Stand up," he growls. "Off my lap. Before I ruin my pants."

She laughs, something airy and almost broken in the sound, and she unfolds from him with a grace that shouldn't be possible. She offers him her hand, her hair in waves around her face, her eyes like the darkness of the elevator a few minutes ago.

Not gentle, not kind - but filled with purpose, intent. Possibilities.

He takes her hand and she sees the state he's in, oh does she, but she says nothing. Simply reaches in and begins threading his belt together again.

So Castle starts to work on the buttons of her blouse. Even as the elevator stops and the doors open with a cheerful ding.

(...)

What the hell is with this elevator?

One minute she's reasonable and in control, then the next, she can't get enough of the feeling of his body against hers. It has to be the heat, it can't possibly be anything else. But as the pad of his thumb grazes the naked skin beneath her blouse, she starts to question everything she's ever known to be true - even as the elevator doors open.

There's no denying it. They need to continue this as soon as possible, in the nearest supply closet if necessary. Her mind is reeling with all the ways he can unravel her with his body, his hands, his mouth.

And then she hears a throat clearing from beyond the open doors.

"Are we interrupting something?"

Oh God.

She whips her head towards the door where her detectives and a man that she can only imagine is the building's superintendent are standing, all of them quite smug.

"The elevator - broke," Castle stammers and not so subtly adjusts his t-shirt to cover his rather obvious condition. At least he has enough coherence to attempt to put together an explanation because her fine motor skills are entirely lacking.

She hears the guys snickering like two junior high students and it's apparent that there's no hiding what almost happened in the elevator.

Taking a deep breath, she steps out of the elevator with Castle on her heels, trying to look as normal as possible with her shirt gaping open and his still on the floor.

"I take it my text message went through? The cell service was touchy at best."

"Doesn't look like that's all that was touchy," Ryan teases. Esposito offers him a fist bump.

"Shut up," she says, rolling her eyes at what she can only imagine will be days of snide comments. It's like some awkward nightmare where she's standing naked in front of a class, only this is worse, because this is real and they're her partners. She's never going to live this down. There goes years of professionalism.

The man in coveralls gives her a look. "Didn't you guys see the out of order sign?" he mutters. "I'm surprised this old thing worked at all."

"Out of order sign?" she growls, straightening her shirt, fumbling with the last few buttons. Why won't her fingers work? Why did his work so well when he was doing it?

Why did it feel so good?

"Yeah. We've been waiting for the repair guy to fix this thing for weeks."

She shoots a glare at Castle. He was the one talking up the wonders of the elevator beforehand, would he have actually gone so far to remove the sign just so he wouldn't have to climb another flight of stairs?

"I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't me," he defends.. He knows her too well. "Besides, how do I know it wasn't you who-."

She narrows her eyes. "I didn't -"

The super interrupts with a huff. "It was probably the damn kids that live on the fifth floor. You're the third set of visitors that have gotten stuck this week."

Kate nudges Castle towards his discarded shirt, still on the floor. His hands are sluggish, but he manages to shove his arms through the sleeves; he's not bothering to button it up.

She averts her eyes. "Well thanks for getting us out of there," she grits out, the words reluctant. She can't look at them directly, her cheeks still burning. She wishes they hadn't. She wishes for five more minutes with that kind of courage in her blood and want in his eyes.

"Yeah, hope you guys didn't go through too much trouble." Castle smiles. He's messing with his shirt, the movement an attempt to hide his condition, but she can see it clear as day on his face.

She needs to get out of here.

"Not at all. Just wish you would've waited a day. I'd have won the pool," Esposito says, laughing.

"Yeah, I think LT won like $500 on you two."

"Grow up," Kate groans and elbows him aside. The whole precinct will know soon enough and every moment of her private life will be dissected like it's a plot point in a Nikki Heat novel. She can't breathe. She needs to not be in the lobby anymore.

She stalks away from them, fingers still refusing to work. She abandons the attempt, lets her shirt gape open at the top in favor of yanking open the lobby door.

Castle follows her out.

"Kate." He sounds rough, unmade. "Kate. Stop."

She turns toward his voice, not even able to catch her breath before his hands cup her face and pull her mouth against his.

Insistent. Hot. Claiming.

When they break apart, he's glaring at her. "Don't you walk away from me. From this."

She stares up at him for a heartbeat and then her grin splits across her face, unable to mask her joy. She lurches back into him, arms around his neck to claim his mouth again.

Apparently it isn't just a stifling, psychotic elevator, and it's not just her - kissing is something they get to do now.

(...)