There's no religion but sex and music.
-Sting

You can't stay the same. If you're a musician and a singer, you have to change; that's the way it works.
-Van Morrison

At last Kate was able to escape the crowds and make her way downstairs, smiling at the musicians who were still in the hallways and the locker room. She changed back into her street clothes, took her hair out of the bun, and shut herself into a toilet stall for a few moments just to get a brief bit of quiet and privacy - to collect herself. All that socializing always took its toll.

When she had washed her hands and gathered up her things, she went back upstairs and found that the crowd had mostly cleared out. The upstairs corridors were quiet again, just a few small clumps of people lingering.

"Hey, Beckett," came Castle's voice at her ear, startling her. "I want to show you something."

"What is it?" she stammered, flustered by his mere presence, the nearness of his body, the small quirk of his lips. He had changed back into street clothes as well, and had his briefcase and garment bag and coat with him.

"You'll see. Come on." He took her elbow and steered her toward a door at the other end of the hallway, which led to another set of stairs going up.

"Castle, I don't think we're supposed to-" she began, but he urged her on.

"It's okay, everyone's pretty much gone. Come on," he repeated, starting up the stairs.

They climbed two flights of stairs, and then he led her through a doorway, saying, "Check it out."

It was an upper-balcony luxury box, the exact opposite of the one where Darla had shot Annabel, on the other side of the stage.

"Look," Castle said, putting his armload of stuff down on a seat, taking Kate's armload as well and putting it with his. "From here you can see right into the box where, well, you know." He pointed across the performance space.

Kate looked. The lighting was dim, but yes, she could see the fateful spot where Annabel and her sister had engaged in their final argument.

"Castle, why are we here?"

"And check this out," he urged, tugging lightly on her arm. "Over here at the side there's a little nook, just like the one we found in that other box." He gave her a heated look and she inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering - as he surely wanted her to - how he had pushed her into the small space, pressed his body close to hers. How they had both felt while imagining Annabel having a liaison up there with Brett.

Castle's theory had turned out to be wrong, but the way he and Kate had reacted to each other was definitely not a figment of his imagination.

"Just think," Castle said, his voice low and husky, rumbling into her ears, raising goosebumps down her spine. "If someone else had been up here, they would have seen the whole thing."

He pressed her back into the recessed part of the wall again, nearly hidden behind the thick curtain. Kate let her hands fall onto his biceps as he inched closer, the heat of his body licking at hers.

"No, they wouldn't," she rasped back, her voice almost a whisper as desire stole the breath from her throat. Castle blinked at her, confused.

"What?"

"They wouldn't have seen anything, if they were doing what you're imagining them doing," she said with a slow smirk, and he growled softly, and his mouth crashed down on hers.

A groan of satisfaction escaped Kate's throat as she wound her arms around Castle's neck and opened eagerly to his kiss. He pressed her more firmly against the wall and plundered her mouth, one hand sliding through her hair to cup the back of her neck, the other curving around her waist. The hard heat of his body against hers felt delicious, made her head spin. His tongue was slick and wicked on hers. She twined her fingers in his hair to bring him even closer.

But when he moved around to pull her earlobe between his teeth, and his hand slipped under her shirt to caress the bare skin of her back, reality asserted itself and she struggled to regain control.

"Castle, no, wait," she gasped, pressing on his shoulders. He pulled back slightly to look at her with darkened eyes, his hair tousled, lips damp and reddened.

"What's wrong?" he questioned breathlessly.

"We should - we should get out of here," she managed, her gaze captivated by his mouth. She couldn't restrain herself from surging up to press her own lips against his again, just for a moment, just a taste. He tasted so good. She forced herself to pull back again.

"This isn't the place," she said, and he sighed loudly, nodding.

"No, you're right. You're right." He took his hands off her reluctantly, giving an apologetic smile. "I, uh, do you want..." He took a long breath, and another, looking away, carefully calming himself down. "Uh, it's too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but do you, are you hungry?"

"Not for food," she husked, and grinned at the way his head whipped back around to stare at her. Oh yes, it was the giddy high of finishing a concert that emboldened her, but it wasn't just that; it was him. Her and him. She was ready - so very ready.

"Take me back to my place, Castle," she murmured, biting her lower lip slowly, deliberately. The flare of passion in his eyes sent a powerful thrill rushing through her.

"Yeah," he said quickly, hoarsely, and turned away again to retrieve their belongings.

Castle sank into the driver's seat of his car and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He had thought his legs might give out on the way from the balcony to the parking garage, so completely undone was he by Beckett's flirty side. As she slid into the seat next to him after stowing her violin in the back, she flashed him a smile that was somehow both seductive and hesitant. He lowered his eyelids and smiled back, his sleepy half-lidded grin that always seemed to work on women.

It worked on Beckett too, judging from the way she sucked in a breath and turned to look out the window while she reached blindly to buckle her seatbelt.

Quickly Castle buckled his own seatbelt, put the car in gear, and drove out of the garage.

"What's Alexis doing today?" Beckett asked as he pulled out onto the street. He twitched a little at the sound of her voice, but he knew what she was doing, what she was obliquely asking. He was grateful for the neutral conversation, the opportunity to cool things off a little.

"She said she has a lot of homework to catch up on," he replied, carefully casual. "Didn't get much done yesterday, I guess, between our concert and Mother's show."

"She's very responsible," Beckett murmured, and he felt her gaze on his profile.

"Makes you wonder where she got it from, huh?"

She snorted softly. "You said it, Castle, not me."

"Oh! I almost forgot!" he exclaimed suddenly, spotting a sign. "I promised you coffee and donuts."

Beckett laughed aloud this time, a lovely sound that made his heart leap. He couldn't help grinning as he yanked the steering wheel over and pulled the car up to the curb.

"Wait here," he directed, and dashed inside the shop.

It was the same little deli where he had gotten his lunch twice this week, and he had noticed the big puffy donuts in the dessert case. The elderly proprietors were happy to see him, but he apologized breathlessly, saying, "Sorry I can't stay and chat today - she's waiting in the car." The white-haired husband winked at him and put the donuts in a bag while the wife poured coffee into two large to-go cups.

"Sorry it's not a vanilla latte," he commented when he got back to the car, handing Beckett one of the coffee cups and the bag of donuts, "but this place does make great coffee."

"I'm sure it's fine," she said, lifting the lid. "I haven't had coffee in two whole days. Oh, that smells amazing." She took a sip and sighed deeply with pleasure.

"Do you two need to be alone?" Castle asked, smirking. He put the other coffee cup into the cupholder, re-buckled his seatbelt, and pulled the car back out into traffic.

"Shut up," Beckett mumbled, ducking her head. She opened the bag. "Castle, these donuts are huge."

"Yeah," he agreed. "There's one cinnamon and one glazed. I didn't know what kind you'd want."

"Glazed is perfect," she said, pulling the donut out. She took a bite and groaned. "Oh wow. I missed dessert two days in a row too."

"The sacrifices we make for our art," he joked weakly, shifting on the seat. The sight of Beckett licking her fingers - even just out of the corner of his eye - was making his pants feel tight, his whole body tingling. She hummed with pleasure as she ate, and he thought his heart might stop.

At the next red light, after carefully bringing the car to a complete stop, he turned toward Beckett and said, somewhat strangled, "Do you have to make those noises?"

She smiled over at him, slow and sultry. "Sorry," she said, not sounding at all sorry. "This donut is just so good." And she leaned over and kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth, letting him taste the sweet sticky glaze from the donut. He groaned, sweeping his tongue across her lips, seeking more of that sugar.

"Light's green," she murmured into his mouth, and he huffed out an explosive breath and tried to focus on driving.

By the time they got to her place, Kate was beginning to regret having teased Castle so much; it had affected her equally strongly, and she was already breathing faster just from sitting in the car with him.

Somehow she managed to restrain herself - and Castle was a perfect gentleman - for as long as it took to gather her things from the back seat, enter the building, and take the elevator up to her floor. Castle followed her in silence, heated looks flashing between them the whole way.

But when they got into her apartment, as she was putting down her violin, the question came bursting out of her mouth of its own volition: "Did you really mean what you said? About me being the first to read your new opera?"

Castle blinked, clearly taken aback, startled out of the fog of desire that had gathered around the two of them. "I, uh, yeah," he exclaimed, his eyes wide and bright. "I mean, it's hard to say when it'll be ready, though. I want to get it just right. I really want you to like Nikki."

"Who?" she frowned in confusion, drifting toward him.

"The main character. Nikki Heat."

"Nikki Heat?" she repeated, her jaw dropping in disbelief. "What kind of name is that?"

"A cop name," he shrugged, sitting down on her couch.

"It's a stripper name," she accused, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well, she is kinda slutty," he grinned, but at the sight of her glare he winced and backpedaled. "Kidding, no, I'm just kidding, Beckett." He reached out and grabbed her elbow, tugged her down to sit beside him. "It's a good name," he said softly, brushing his lips across hers. "It's a name with bite." He nipped at her earlobe to punctuate the words. She gasped, wrapping her hands around his upper arms.

"Nikki is a strong name, because she's strong, because you're strong," Castle murmured in her ear, his tongue leaving a wet trail across her jaw. "And Heat is a hot name, because she's hot ... because you're hot."

Kate shook her head, rolling her eyes, even as another gasp escaped her and she squirmed in his arms, his mouth finding all her most sensitive spots. Honestly, the man was ridiculous. Somehow he managed to make 'Nikki Heat' sound almost reasonable.

"Kate," he said, his low gravelly voice trickling across her nerves, his hands hot on her back. "Can I give you that hickey now?"

She drew in a slow, shaky breath. "On the couch?"

"No, on the neck," he rumbled, his eyes sparkling.

"Castle." But he fastened his mouth to that same spot on her neck again and she moaned, her head falling back onto the couch cushion behind her. She felt the scrape of his teeth and shuddered, hard.

His hand slipped under her t-shirt and caressed her stomach while his mouth was working. She writhed slowly under him, overwhelmed by sensation. After a moment he lifted off and said with satisfaction, "That should do it."

She blew out a breath of disbelief, but he wasn't done. He pushed her shirt up a little higher. "Where else can I put a hickey?" he asked with a slow, sexy grin that made her whole body flush hot. His fingers danced across her ribs. "Here?" Higher, and he brushed the underside of one breast with his fingertips. "Here?"

"Oh God." She breathed in deeply and managed to gather the presence of mind to sit up. "Castle ... let's go to the bedroom."

She stood, and was pleased to find that her legs only wobbled a little bit. She looked down at Castle's astonished face, quirked an eyebrow, and pulled the t-shirt over her head.

The shirt hit the floor, and Castle sprang to his feet, his hands wrapping around her waist, his mouth finding hers again. She kissed him back enthusiastically, pulling him toward the hallway that led to her bedroom. Their hands were everywhere, pulling at clothing, stroking bare skin wherever it could be found. Slowly, erratically, reluctant to break the kiss even for a breath, they made their way across the apartment and stumbled through the bedroom door not a moment too soon.

"I was right," Castle grinned, later, lying in a sweaty tangle on Beckett's bed. "You are a screamer."

She huffed in annoyance. "I was right too," she retorted. "You are arrogant."

He grinned some more. With an effort, he rolled himself up onto his side and looked down at her. Naked, sheened with sweat, her hair spread across the pillow, her eyeliner smudged, she was gorgeous. He could hardly believe his good fortune, whatever cosmic force had smiled upon him and allowed him to end up in this woman's bed.

"You like me because I'm arrogant," he said, and leaned over her a little farther, checking on the progress of the hickey. It seemed to be coming along nicely. He gave it an extra nip just in case.

Beckett turned her head, and her teeth grazed his shoulder, making him jump.

"Who says I like you?" she asked with a glint in her eye. But her hand was sneaking down between their bodies and he gasped, jerking against her when that wandering hand found its mark.

"Oh, you like me all right," he got out, nearly breathless with awe as she pushed him onto his back and rolled on top of him. She was a goddess, rising above him, tossing her hair back over her shoulder, her eyes flashing.

"It's your turn to scream," she announced, and smirked, and lowered her body over his.

Later still, as they were again lying side-by-side on the bed, panting, their stomachs growled almost in unison. They both laughed, a little self-consciously, looking at each other.

"We could order something for delivery?" Kate offered tentatively, and she saw how Castle lit up at the suggestion, though he tried to play it cool.

"That sounds good," he said, and she nodded and got up, groaning a little as she reached for her bathrobe. Oh, it had been a while since she'd felt that particular ache.

She went into the bathroom and cleaned herself up a bit. When she came out, Castle had pulled on his boxers and t-shirt, and he took a turn in the bathroom.

"Chinese okay?" she asked when he emerged.

"Sure."

After the food was ordered, Kate moved around the kitchen taking out dishes and utensils. As she set the table, her hands trembled slightly. What next? she was thinking - what next? in so many ways, about so many things. The adrenaline rush was rapidly wearing off.

Castle came up behind her, startling her slightly. "Not having regrets, are you?" he asked quietly. She turned to look at him, shaking her head vehemently.

"No. No," she said firmly. "I just ... it was a long week. Emotional."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Are you thinking about what Howard said? That Bach he mentioned? I don't think I know it."

"The Magnificat. It's got a couple of good soprano solos," she mused, trying to call up the melodies in her mind. "Et exultavit spiritus meus," she sang softly, trying it out.

"Well, that's an ego-boost," he joked. She smiled a little, but then her mind went back to the question.

"After my mom died..." she said slowly, and Castle's expression turned serious. He looked at her with such tenderness, it made her chest tighten.

"Go on," he encouraged gently.

"I was angry at her," Kate confessed, lowering her chin, letting the memories flood over her. "For a long time. A long time. And everyone said it was normal - said I needed to give myself time to forgive her. And they were right. Eventually I got to that place."

"But," Castle prompted, his voice so soft, and she could feel his gaze on her even as she stared at the floor.

"But..." she repeated, "but I never took the time to forgive myself." She lifted her head and saw Castle about to object, and forestalled him with a look. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I still ... felt guilty anyway. Ashamed. And no one ever told me to give myself time for that too." She took a deep breath. "I wanted to sing, so badly. And I wouldn't let myself do it, or if I did, I felt guilty about it. Until this week."

Castle was silent, letting her get it out. She felt a surge of gratitude and a fierce need to express it.

"I have to thank you for that," she said, meeting his eyes. His brows went up in surprise.

"I didn't do anything," he said, but she shook her head, dusting her fingertips over his lips.

"You did. You helped me see the way to break out of that cycle. To give myself permission to sing again."

Castle captured her hand in both of his, kissed the back of it lightly. "You helped me too," he said softly. "Before this week I was starting to worry that I'd never be able to compose again."

Kate blushed and turned her head away, but he put his fingers on her chin and turned her to face him again. "Kate," he said fervently. "Let me take you to dinner, tomorrow. And Tuesday. And Wednesday. And-"

"Castle," she protested, half laughing, even as her gut twisted with an exhilarating mix of emotions.

She thought back to all the times this past week that he had asked her out, and she had refused, out of a variety of fears - fear that she would end up on page six; fear that Castle wasn't taking anything seriously ... Well, she was probably going to be on page six regardless, after this weekend, she realized with a jolt. And as for the rest ... maybe it was time for her to start taking things less seriously. Her mother was dead, but Kate still had a life to live.

"Dinner tomorrow," she said, "and then we'll see."

Castle's face lit up with delight. "Deal. I'll make a reservation." His arm curved around her waist, and his lips found hers again.

On Monday morning Kate walked into the Juilliard school building with her violin in its case over her shoulder. Her shoulders were back, her head held high, her stride confident. She was wearing a turtleneck, relishing the lingering soreness between her thighs and, yes, the hoarseness of her voice. Castle had made good on that promise all over again after the Chinese food had restored their energy levels.

A number of people greeted her as she walked the familiar hallways of this beloved place, where she had spent so many years working on her craft; she gave them all smiles and friendly hellos. It was like coming home.

Today, though, she bypassed the string department and made her way through the corridors to the administrative section where the Vocal Arts faculty had their offices. The door she sought was already open. Taking a deep, slow breath, she knocked on the door frame and peeked inside.

"Busy?"

"Kate! Come in!" Roy Montgomery leapt up from his seat behind a desk that was as tidy as she remembered it. "Come in, come in," he repeated, moving around the desk and taking her arm, ushering her inside. "It's good to see you again. Dare I ask what brings you here?"

"Um." All of a sudden she found herself feeling shy and self-conscious in front of this man, who had known her mother so well, had coached her for so many years. "Roy, I don't know if I can commit to anything right now," she said slowly, "but I - if your offer is still open..."

"Of course it is. Of course," he replied, his face softening as he took her in. "You're nervous, Kate, and that's natural. But I'm so glad you've taken this leap."

"Me too," she said, softly, and then again, firming her jaw, making her voice ring with confidence, "Me too. I'm looking forward to learning from you."

"We can start slow," he assured her. "Once or twice a week, just to dip your toe in, see how you feel. That sound right?"

"Yes," she agreed gratefully. "That sounds perfect."

"Let me look at my calendar. I'm sure I have some time tomorrow or Wednesday."

Stepping back out onto the sidewalk a few minutes later, Kate felt lighter-hearted than she had in a long time - maybe since her mother was alive. She found herself smiling as she started to walk to the subway. Her phone chimed with a text, and her heart pounded giddily in her chest when she saw that it was from him. Castle.

I have to meet with my agent this morning, it said, but then I really need to see you. Can't wait till tonight. Lunch?

She tried to bite back her grin as she thumbed the keyboard in reply. Sounds great, she typed. Get some takeout and meet me at my place. She took a deep breath, hit Send, and finally allowed the smile to bloom across her whole face as she walked down the stairs.

The End

A/N: Obviously this is not the end of the journey for this version of Castle and Beckett, but this is the end of this story. A sequel at some later date is always a possibility, though I have no such plans at present.

Thank you, one last time, for all the kind words. It's gratifying to know that so many of you have enjoyed coming along on this ride with me.