The elevator was a real torment. When they arrived at the elevator lobby, they found the owner of the car waiting there too. Castle greeted, trying to sound normal. But it was like he was stealing a rare diamond in a CIA agent's face. No doubt anything that was written "GUILTY" on his forehead. And Beckett felt the same, trying to hide herself and smooth her own clothes.

When the elevator arrived, the neighbor, about his 60 years, was educated enough to let them go first. Maybe it was education or maybe he had just noticed something, like holding hands or mischievous smile that they exchanged, sharing a fault of their own. But he would go to almost the same floor as that pair of lovebirds, so, no privacy. And never this trip was so long.

Then they heard the bell sound and the door opened for the first time. When the neighbor said goodbye, wishing them good night, and the door closed again, Castle and Beckett burst into laughter.

- I feel like a teenager being caught stealing nail polish! - Beckett laughed, leaning on Castle's shoulder while he wondered if there was anything blamed on him.

- I think I'll always have to avoid him from now - he said referring the neighbor - and that's never happened before ... I've always been good at keeping a "poker face" on the elevator and hide my moves.

So, the conversation died when they faced each other again. It was really complicated to hold that look and have so little time until the elevator final stop. Beckett was starting to caress his hand, as they had done in the whole prom. And Castle, with his free hand, caressed with the backs of his fingers her face, making Beckett length closes her eyes with every touch.

Four years ago, almost a lifetime, if he thinks about it, and Castle had imagined it in countless ways ... But none of them had led him to this situation: acceptance. His mind in a way, after discovering her omission of his feelings, become accustomed to paint a picture of rejection. And this situation did Castle accept it, preferring the things unresolved, that, in fact, solve everything.

Everyone, in the district or not, was speculating things ... This made Beckett also thought on the subject. In the first times that such thoughts occurred, she strongly denied to imagine something with him. He was too cocky, too irresponsible, and thought everything was like a ride at Disneyland. But he "was" these things ... Over time, she realized that he was more than that annoying, charming and intelligent guy who stalked her where she was going, teasing and challenging her only with his presence. He had become her partner. And don't have Castle around was like going to work without an arm: unimaginable and too weird. And after he had said he loved her, Beckett spent more time imagining the consequences of it. He had only said that because she was dying? He would say, in other circumstances? She loved him too? What would they become if the answer was "yes"? And the work? And if the answer was no, would he remain there beside her?

Beckett felt Castle's fingers roam her face once more, and this removed any of those questions. She would take care of them later, not now. Today, she was being carried away. The floor bell sounded once more and she opened her eyes, seeing his gaze. He had arched an eyebrow at her and trying to look serious commented "I think it's our floor."

Then, they went to Castle's apartment and stopped. Castle fumbled the pockets for the keys, but didn't find them. He looked at her and said "they are in the other pocket" and gently pulled her closer. The eye contact was automatic now, it was as if they needed to see into the eyes of each other the necessary permission for the next move.

With their noses almost touching, Castle's hand went to the jacket that Beckett was wearing and without opening it too much, reached inside it, looking for the hide pocket. She tried to not show her reactions, but she could feel the heat trace that his hand left. Deliberately, Castle made the long way to the pocket. He knew exactly where the keys were, but he started running a hand from one side to the other on her waist, pretending to be looking at both sides. The only "problem" was he wanted a pocket on her body and no in jacket anymore.

- I can't find them - Castle whispered with a false concern note on his voice. He was loving it. He could feel, even though Beckett did not express on her face, her body vibrating where his hand went.

"Maybe you should look more closely" was Beckett's response. It was the permission he expected. Even if he had been bold enough to do what he had done, Castle would proceed only with her word. He came a step closer and their noses touched. Joined the brows, lips almost touching, feeling their breath. Castle's free hand held Beckett's back, making she stick on him. Now she could feel not only his hand but his entire body.

They didn't move anymore. It only had the subtle movement of his hand looking for the keys. Castle would not break the magic of the moment. As a writer and son of a theater diva, he knew very well that the suspense was the business soul. "Preparation is everything" was what Castle used to say when someone asked how he managed to keep the suspense in his books. And twice he pulled his mouth from hers, when Beckett came over to kiss him.

But he couldn't continue with this game anymore. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys. "I found them" he said swallowing hard, and in the next moment his hands were loosened her body, but still kept her trapped in his eyes. Easily he found the lock and opened the door.