They tumble out of the booth, her body pressed tightly against his back, her hand warm and damp in his. He stumbles, his blood uncertain on which direction to flow, and Kate drops her forehead to his shoulder blade, giggling.

"We really aren't being very covert about this."

Turning, Castle brings his hand to her cheek and brushes his thumb, still damp with her, across her mouth. Her eyes slip shut as he traces the pad of his thumb over the gentle bow of her bottom lip , the tip of her tongue slipping out to chase him. She sways into him and he wraps their joined hands around her waist, pulling her hips roughly up against his.

"I can't honestly say that I give a damn, Beckett." His lips ghost over hers when he speaks, faint touches that catch in his throat, leaving him parched, his tongue thick and heavy against his teeth.

"I'm about three seconds away from pushing you down on the table," she growls, her breath hot and sweet. "Bathroom. Now."

"Rick!"

He groans into her mouth, presses his forehead to hers. "Why? Dear god, why?"

Kate laughs and squeezes his hand before untangling their fingers. She takes a step back, her eyes scanning over him hotly, and nods in the direction of the bathrooms. "Five minutes or I'm starting without you."

She spins on her heel and saunters away, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter as she goes. Castle watches her for as long as he can before turning to face Paula, a smile plastered on his lips.

"Paula," and his voice is saccharine as he leans down to kiss her cheek. "Thank you so much for coming. I was just about to head to the bathroom to-"

"Have sex with your girlfriend on the counter?" Right, this is Paula. Blunt, no barriers held Paula. "Come on, Rick. I've known you for how long? Spend five minutes with your agent and then you can go get your birthday jollies in the little girl's room."

He laughs. "I've missed you, Paula. You never call, you never write."

"How would you know? You're always off chasing down some victim. They give you a badge yet, Rick?"

"Just the handcuffs." He grins, and she rolls her eyes at him.

"You had the handcuffs before you started dating Nikki Heat if I recall. She know you slept with me?" There's nothing jealous or malicious in her tone, just a teasing he's grown accustomed to over the past decade.

"As a matter of fact, she does. Gina, on the other hand, does not. So let's never mention that to her in one of our meetings."

"Have you ever worked with someone and not slept with them?" He thinks about it for a moment, because okay he has slept with a lot of people he's worked with. In the past. He finds Kate across the room, talking to Patterson, and something in this heart squeezes, reminds him of who he used to be, who he never wants to be again. She looks up in that moment, meets his glance, smiles. "You're really in love with her, aren't you?"

He looks back to Paula, his lips lifting. "That sounds almost sentimental. I didn't think you did that."

"And I didn't think you'd ever settle down." She rests her hand on his chest. "Three more Nikki Heat books."

"What?"

"Well, you want to keep writing your girlfriend for the next three years, don't you?"

"Of course, but-"

"We'll discuss figures next week, but Black Pawn is putting it on the table. Oh and Rick? Gina knows we slept together."

"What? How?"

"You think we haven't gotten drunk together at functions and discussed it?" Paula pats his cheek. "Be careful. You don't want Kate to come play with us."

"Trust me, I'd be more worried about the things she'd tell you than the other way around," he smirks, dropping a quick kiss to Paula's cheek before turning on his heel and moving away.

Kate is still talking to Patterson, her hand resting casually on the man's forearm. Patterson seems to be totally enraptured by her, his face split by a wide, toothy grin, his body canted toward her as she laughs at something he's just said. Castle finds a deep vein of jealousy running through his chest, tries to ignore it. It's Patterson and Kate, for christ's sake. Nothing happening there. Ever. Still, he quickens his step, cutting the distance between them in half the time.

"Patterson, are you hitting on my muse-slash-girlfriend?" He wraps an arm low around her waist, fingers brushing over the sharp protrusion of her hip.

Kate looks at him, eyes narrowed, and pokes a finger into his ribs. "Muse comes before girlfriend? Really?"

"Well, the muse part did come first, Beckett. Gotta respect the history."

"Be careful, Castle, or you just might lose both." She bumps her shoulder into his chest, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Can I put my name on the waiting list?" Patterson pipes up, his shoulders shaking as he chuckles.

"You publish twenty books a year, I don't think you need any more inspiration," Castle bristles. "Especially not mine."

"Why don't you let the lady make up her own mind, Rick."

"Sorry, James," Kate purrs, her body listing into Castle's as she winds an arm around his waist. "We established long ago that I'm a one writer girl."

"Well, you can't blame an old man for trying," Patterson laughs, raising his glass to them.

"If you'll excuse us, Kate and I have some rounds to make. I'll see you next week at the game?" Patterson nods and Castle turns them away, moving toward the darkened hallway leading to the restrooms. "And stop drinking all my good booze," he tosses over his shoulder, fingers digging into the curve of Kate's hip.

"Bathroom is out," she murmurs as they walk, her fingers hooked through the belt loop at his lower back.

"Why?"

"I just saw Lanie and Espo go in there. And from how far she had her tongue down his throat, I'm guessing they're going to be a while."

Castle growls and pushes her up against the wall, holding her in place with his hands at her waist and his hips pressed tightly to hers. He dips his head and draws a winding wet path up her neck with his lips and tongue. He can taste the salt and heat on her skin, wants desperately to feel her naked under his hands, her body moving against his.

"I want you so much." He whispers it into her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth and flicking her simple diamond stud earring with his tongue. "I need to feel you, Kate."

"I know. Me too." She runs her hands up his chest and buries her fingers in his hair, holding his mouth to her even as she rebuffs him. "But up against the wall in the middle of your birthday party is not happening, Castle."

"Why not?" He knows it's a petulant question, can hear the whine in his voice, but he doesn't care. She's been turning him on for hours - years - and he just can't keep the lid on it anymore.

"For starters, because I'm not into that particular kind of exhibitionism. And secondly, Rick, your mother and my father are still here. Together. And watching us from across the room."

Castle jumps away from her like he's been burned, putting a good foot of space between their bodies. He turns his head slightly, glancing back at the table. Gates is gone and sure enough his mother and Jim are staring at them like they're fifteen and were just caught groping in the backseat of - no, he's not going there. He takes in a breath, running a hand through his hair. There are still too many people here, enough that he knows they can't leave but if he doesn't get her against a wall or a car or a goddamn something soon enough he's not going to make it much longer.

Kate licks her lips and yeah, that's really helping the situation. His eyes narrow. "Can you not do that right now?"

It takes her a second to realize what she's even done and then she's rolling her eyes at him, taking a step closer. Her nails rake up his arm and he never understands how she seems so poised, so put together when he's on the verge of losing it. "Easy, soldier. We'll put in a few more hours here and then when we get home I'll let you-" She pauses, canting into his body, lips brushing over the curve of his ear. "Unwrap me."

He groans, parents forgotten as he captures her bottom lip between his teeth. "Are you my present?"

"Mmmm," she hums, stepping out of his arms. Her lips lift, mischievous and sexy. "I guess you'll have to wait a little longer."

She walks off, heading in the direction of Martha and Jim. A drink, he needs a drink. He steps up to the bar, elbows on the dark wood, taking in a breath and he's a little ashamed at how badly he needs Kate right now, except not because -

"You look like you could use a drink, Rick," Brian says with a laugh. "Scotch?"

"Tequila," Martha calls out from behind him. "Shots."

"Don't say it," Castle starts, turning, when Martha leans against a stool beside him.

"What? That you were nearly groping Detective Beckett in the middle of your birthday party with her father watching?" Martha shrugs, the movement causing her bracelets to jangle in delight. "Darling, I've done much worse."

"Yes, how could we forget that weekend in the Poconos when you and Mick Jagger went to go make music." He shivers; the mental images he conjures are flashes of youth and his mother's flowing dresses, rock stars and tight leather pants. "You've given me such stimulating memories in my forty-two years, Mother."

Brian places six shots on the bar in front of them; it's either sad how well he knows them or - okay, it's just sad. Castle slides the tequila closer to Martha, lifts his in cheers.

"Thanks for helping Kate with this, Mother. I see all the galas you threw when I was a child finally paid off; although there seems to be a conspicuous lack of half naked men here tonight, for which I am eternally grateful."

Martha waves her hand in dismissal. The bracelets adorning her wrist slide and clank against each other. "It was one event and we were honoring a swimmer, darling. Half naked was on the menu."

"Was he swimming at the event?"

"Don't be such a prude, Richard. You have Kate to thank for the party. I did nothing but help choose the alcohol."

"Taste testing, no doubt?"

She pats his cheek lightly. "All the best for my boy." Her shot glass lifts in salute. "Happy birthday, kiddo."

"Thank you."

Their glasses chime in connection, shots downed. It's a bitter contrast to the scotch he's been drinking and it sings through his veins. He scans the room as he puts the glass back onto the bar and lands on Kate across the room and laughing with her father. He can't hear her from here, but the sound rings in his brain from memories of late nights, early mornings. It makes him wonder if this is who she'd be had her mother still been alive. This wild, vibrant woman who lets loose, who remembers happiness and love and hope.

"She's not going anywhere."

Castle snaps his attention back to Martha, who is holding another tequila out to him. He takes it, the glass cold, biting at the tips of his fingers. "What?"

"I saw your reaction when Jim pulled out that story about her almost running away to Atlantic City with what's-his-face. You still think she's going to walk out, don't you?"

He takes the shot without preamble this time. "No. But I do think that she's still not ready for everything I want to offer her."

"Oh, Richard." Martha slides her hand over his arm, comforting. "Look around this room. This is Kate Beckett we're talking about. You think she would take the time to do this for anyone? She's more ready than you think she is. Just give her some time."

Castle lips lift into a smile. "It's a shame you gave up life coaching, Mother."

She tilts her head back, pounding the second shot that's been sitting in her hand. She's an old pro at this by now and Castle's impressed with how Martha doesn't wince, doesn't give in to the alcohol. She's poised and he's suddenly grateful for the years she's been living with him, a decision that he once thought would cost him his sanity. "I do have a knack for it, don't I?"

"You are a woman of many talents."

From the corner of his eye, he sees Kate moving toward them, weaving throughout the crowd. Her hips swing in rhythm, her cheeks flushed and she's gorgeous and his and with the way she's smiling at him he trusts that she's not going anywhere; that when she came to him drenched and dedicated almost a year ago, it was forever. She steps into him without hesitation, his arm wrapping around her waist. Her gaze drifts to the bar, the empty glasses, and she laughs, lifting an eyebrow.

"Are you two doing shots?"

"It's a tradition, darling," Martha answers, her voice lilting.

Kate looks at him, her mouth curling into a wry smile. "Mother and son tequila shots are a tradition?

"Mother likes to celebrate the joyous occasion of my birth by drinking a lot of tequila. I joined her - well, legally anyway - on my twenty-first." He looks at his mother, her brassy hair glinting in the light from the bar, eyes twinkling as she winks at the bartender. "I think it was my thirtieth birthday where I woke up the next morning in Paramus, sleeping on a park bench outside the bus station with no idea how we got there."

"We?" Kate muses.

"I wasn't the one who wanted to get on the bus," Martha responds with a shrug. "That lovely gentleman at the station the next morning did help us find our way home. I think I dated him for a few months after that."

Kate laughs again. "It's nice to see you've both calmed down a little."

"Speaking of, Mother, how are you getting home tonight? We don't want you to end up on a train bound for Florida."

Martha shudders, her body shaking with exaggerated movement."Florida. Everyone's so old there." She lifts a hand in Castle's direction, cutting off his barb before it's even fully formed on his tongue "No trains or buses or public transport of any kind this year. Jim was lovely enough to offer to see me home. I guess I should get him out of here. It's getting late."

He reluctantly lets go of Kate when his mother takes a step closer. She kisses his cheek and he wonders if she's going to speak sentiments, but it's not them, it never has been. "Enjoy the rest of your night, kiddo." She moves to Kate, wrapping her arms around her. "It was a lovely party, darling. Thank you for taking care of him."

Neither he nor Kate expect it; it breathes through him and maybe the supercomputer was wrong. Maybe forty-two isn't the end result of an equation for solving life's mysteries but the beginning. He thinks he hears Kate answer, something like of course or you're welcome and then he's watching Martha leave, floating lightly across the bar, right to where Jim Beckett stands, smiling serenely.

"You okay?" Kate asks, rubbing her hand over his arm. She stops on his bicep, squeezes gently.

"Yeah." He turns to her, grinning. "She's right, though. It's an incredible party, Kate."

There's a tint of red on her cheeks as she smiles. "I know. And now that I've proven myself, maybe you'll trust me next year and resist the urge to barrage me with a hundred emails."

Next year.

He settles his arms around her lower back, clasping his hands. "No, I'll probably still send you emails. Two years in a row, Beckett? Let's not get carried away. I mean-"

He stops mid-sentence and she's lifting an eyebrow at him in confusion. "What?"

She's not facing the crowd, can't see what he's looking at. "You don't think... Our parents aren't... I mean, no, right?"

The look on her face would almost be funny if he wasn't positive it was the same look on his. "What? Where is that coming from? My dad is just giving Martha a ride home. It's late, she's been drinking-" He loosens his hand, turns her until her back is flush against his chest.

Their parents are in the same spot as before but Martha's hand is lingering on Jim's arm and she's laughing and they're friends, their children are dating, that's all this is. It's nothing more and Kate will snap him out of this, be the voice of reason -

"They can't be dating, right? He is just going to drive her home? We'll get there tonight and she'll be upstairs and alone." He's quiet and she spins in his arms, smacking his chest. "Castle, reassure me here."

"I can't, I'm the one who mentioned it to you!" He takes the two remaining shots off the bar and hands one to her. "Drink?"

Kate grabs it from his fingers and they're both downing their drinks, glasses slammed onto the bar. It's just the alcohol, this is all just the alcohol.

Yeah, he's gonna need more of that.

"Brian, two more!"