A/N: You totally have my permission to skip these, by the way. You're not missing much (though you may want to check the chapter ratings)
16 Reviews: Thankyou so much. I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to comment, whether it's encouragement or constructive criticism (or both). I don't believe in hoarding chapters or bartering them in exchange for reviews but they really have motivated me to write and update more quickly than I might have otherwise. I know how fortunate I am to get this many reviews when some people don't get any at all.
24 Favourites: This means a lot to me. It's very special. Thank you.
69 Followers: (Insert dirty joke here) Seriously, I'm continuously blown away every time I check my emails and I see more people are following. I really would have been more than happy with five. This is just beyond my wildest imagination - which, considering the fact that I'm an aspiring writer, is kind of a concern.
Over 11000 views: Don't feel left out, people who are just reading. You're awesome, too!
I'd also like to give a warm thanks to the people who have favourited/followed me.
Next chapter might take a while. I've been drafting it since I began this and I want it finished before I start anything else.

Shortest chapter yet.

Upload Date: 26 August, 2012

Chapter Rating: K+ (mild innuendo; very mild, infrequent inappropriate language)

Chapter Summary: Beckett watches Castle working and finds it rather interesting.

#9

Her arm automatically stretched across the bed as she emerged from her slumber. Feeling only empty space, she stilled and opened her eyes. As she had known, he wasn't there. In spite of herself, she was disappointed.

That disappointment was cushioned when she turned and saw the coffee on the bedside table. A lazy smile lit up her features as as she rolled her bottom lip under her teeth. Yawning, she forced herself to sit up and take a sip, before rising in search of her elusive partner. She didn't have to go far. He was in his study, typing at his desk.

"Tweeting?" she enquired as she entered.

He looked up at her and beamed before turning back to his computer.

"For your information, I'm working."

"How convenient," she said as she stepped closer towards him, placing her coffee on the desk and draping her arms around his bare, warm chest from behind, "having a job that doesn't even require you to change out of your Flash pyjama pants."

He stopped typing and put his hands over hers, turning his head to look up at her, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Hang on. I know this scene. I wrote this scene."

She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, resting her head on his shoulder.

"And how does reality compare to the fantasy?"

"Fantasy?!" he exclaimed in mock rage. "How dare you?"

She laughed as he reached an arm around her, manoeuvring her on his lap.

"I am a serious author."

"Well, in that case," she breathed, prying herself away from him, "I guess I better let you get back to work. I wouldn't want you to be distracted from your serious authoring."

He pouted. "Don't go," he whined pathetically. "You can sit quietly and watch me."

"Sit quietly? What am I, a naughty schoolgirl you have to supervise?"

He almost choked and then a wicked grin crossed his face. "Why? You want to be? We can play that later."

"Do you have to turn everything into an innuendo?"

'Oh, come on. You made it way too easy. I had to bite."

"Yes, you just can't resist that temptation, can you? I learnt that last night.'

"Ooh! See? I'm not the only one. Come on, please. You're my muse. It will help me."

She heaved a heavy sigh.
"Alright," she conceded, sitting in the chair across from his desk, as if this were some big sacrifice.

"'Thankyou."

"Mm-hmm," she said as she took a sip of her coffee.

It didn't take him long to get back to work.

She watched his face, totally engrossed in his writing. All these years he had followed her around, watching her work, she had never really gotten much of a chance to see him work – at least, not this side of it. She found she preferred this to the book-signings and launch parties. He wasn't trying to impress anyone here. Here, it was just him and his laptop, telling a story.

Seeing the ease with which he typed, his tongue curled over his lip in concentration, topless, his hair tousled, was incredibly sexy; but there was also something quite endearing about watching him in his element. The scene seemed to almost serve as a bridge between Castle the Man, annoying shadow, doting father, loving son and all-around caring person that she knew and loved; and Richard Castle the Author, fine craftsmen and word-smith behind so many stories she had gotten lost in. Obviously, she could see his author's sensibilities shining through every day, but actually witnessing him writing was a whole other... story.

She wondered how many women he had allowed to watch him, and then dismissed the thought, deciding she didn't care. She was the only one watching now; and what a sight to behold it was.

She smiled warmly at him and sighed, "I love you," reverently under her breath.

Her smile deepened when she realised he hadn't heard her. He didn't need to. What mattered was that she had finally managed to get the words out, and it hadn't felt scary or intimidating; it had felt wonderful, despite him not actually having heard her.

Besides, he would hear the words from her eventually. Soon.

After about twenty seconds, he stopped and looked up. "Did you say something?"

She feigned confusion. "No," she fibbed.

He paused, narrowed his eyebrows and then shrugged, continuing to write.

Beckett smiled coyly as she sipped her coffee, just watching him.

She really liked to watch him.

Thanks for reading. I wish I knew who wrote the Nikki Heat books so I could credit them for the homage. Oh, right, they're written by Richard Castle. Thanks, Castle!