Seven

"I cannot believe you did that!"

Clouds of red fury blurring her vision, Kate Beckett nearly walked past her own desk. When she realized her mistake, she whipped around and slapped down the two manila folders she carried. They landed with such force that a few other papers on her desk skittered over her keyboard, but she didn't notice. Her focus was on the man who trailed behind her, not even appearing remorseful for what he had done. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Still confused by this level of rage from her, Castle raised his arms and opened his palms wide. "What do you mean wrong with me? I'm doing my job."

"No," she spat, "you're doing my job."

His brow furrowed and he shook his head at her. "What does that even mean? We have the same job!" She was blowing this completely out of proportion. Did she have a right to be slightly annoyed with him? Probably. But taking over the interrogation was hardly a felony act. It wasn't as though he interrupted her mid-sentence. She wasn't getting anywhere with the guy so he took a stab at it. That, after all, was what partners were for.

"You undermined me in front of a suspect, Castle."

"What?!" He proclaimed. "How did—I didn't even—I don't even-" He huffed out a short breath. Damn, now she had him all riled up. Okay, Castle, he told himself. Just take a deep breath and think about what you're going to say for a few seconds before you say it.

Staring over at his partner, he took note of her nostrils flaring with each irritating breath she pushed out. Tread softly, Castle, he coached himself. "I'm sorry if you think I undermined you, but that wasn't my intention. I was just trying to take a crack at the guy." Of course, that crack had failed miserably. Probably if he'd been successful she wouldn't be this mad. Then again, given how short a temper she had with him over the prior week he doubted she would have given him a break even then.

Kate scoffed and stalked over to him. "You're always doing this! Every single time. You're just so—ugh!" she threw her hands up and made a gesture like she wanted to ring his neck.

Okay, he decided, this wasn't about the interrogation. Well, not just about the interrogation. That was it, wasn't it? She was just looking for a reason to yell at him because she was still mad about the incident, as he was referring to it.

"Look, Kate, if you want to be pissed at me that's fine, but at least be honest about why you're pissed at me," he told her wisely. Her brow wrinkled and he realized he'd actually caught her off guard so he added in a quieter voice, "This is about the other night at your apartment, isn't it?"

Her jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? Are you actually kidding me?"

"No."

"You just! I can't even! UGH!" she growled at him before storming out of the bullpen. As she moved, a few lower-level officers noticeably leapt out of her way, obviously not wanting to be accidentally caught in her tornado of fury.

Castle sighed and lowered his chin. She just needed time—that was all. She would walk it off, cool down, and then possibly come back and apologize.

Right—apologize. Since when did Kate Beckett ever do that?

Shaking his head, he turned back towards his seat and muttered, "Well, that could have gone better."

"You can say that again."

Castle jumped when the voice of the captain interrupted his internal-turned-external thoughts. He looked up and glanced around the immediately area to find that Montgomery wasn't the only one taking in their little show. In fact, if he was not mistaken, more people were watching their argument than had paid for tickets to his mother's last off-off-off Broadway show. Though, that wasn't exactly a fair judgment since at its largest performance, the play only had an audience of four. On the homicide floor, at least half a dozen officers gazed in Castle's direction with ill-concealed smirks. McCreary was outright laughing. Castle felt his face flush as a feeling of foolishness set in.

So he and Kate had an argument—so what? On the Richter scale, this was a fairly mild one. They weren't all that loud and it lasted all of a minute; they'd had larger spats over deciding who would drive the squad car! Still, it was rare that one of them actually stormed out during these debates. Usually, they were able to work it out or if not retreat silently to their desks until one reluctantly folded to the other's opinion.

"Castle?" Montgomery said gently. "A word?"

Castle grumbled under his breath as he stood and followed Montgomery to his office. Great. She'd gotten him in trouble with the principal. Why was it that the pretty girls always ran off quick enough not to get in trouble leaving him to take all the blame? Twenty years later and he was still repeating the same mistakes he made in high school.

Once in his office, Montgomery shut the door behind them both. He gestured for Castle to sit, and he did in the guest chair. Seated behind his desk, the captain asked, "You wanna tell me what that was about?"

Simple. Castle knew he needed to keep his explanation simple. "We just weren't able to get the confession, sir. We have enough evidence for the charges to stick, though."

Montgomery ran his fingertips over his mustache. "Well that's good, but I don't think I was talking about the case. Detective Beckett seemed unusually angry with you; something tells me that's about a little more than you stepping on her toes during the interrogation."

Castle cleared his throat; the captain didn't know the half of it. "She's, ah, she's just a little annoyed with me over something that happened a few days ago."

The captain's brows rose halfway up his forehead. "A little annoyed?"

"A lot annoyed," Castle corrected, but that was all the information he would give his superior. What was he supposed to stay? She wanted to have sex with me, I turned her down, and now I think she might kill me in my sleep.

Though he was now continually faced with a certain amount of animosity from her, Castle knew he had made the right decision that night in Kate's apartment. She was a wonderful and amazing woman, but sleeping with her like that would have been wrong. He knew it; she knew it and they needed to move past it. Granted, that was easier said than done.

How could he move past it when all he could think about were her lips? They had hardly entered his thoughts before, but now that he'd had a taste of her he knew one would never be enough. It was like being given one bite of the sweetest, most delectable dessert in the world only to have it snatched away before it could be finished, savored.

Staring across the desk at her was pure torture. Her lips were so pink and full. Knowing the softness they contained made his skin itch. He would try and distract himself by forcing him to look not at her lips, but at something else, though in a way that was worse. Her eyes, her cheeks, even her forehead exuded beauty. She was exquisite. Not to mention smart, savvy, and damn sexy. And she…would make one hell of a character in a book, wouldn't she?

Montgomery's voice pulled him back to reality. "Well I suggest you fix it, Castle—and quick. The NYPD doesn't have time to play referee to disputes between partners. Unless, of course, you'd like to request a transfer?"

Castle sat up a bit straighter. "No, sir. Beckett is my partner and, despite her anger, I'm pretty sure she wants to keep it that way. I'll apologize to her—again."

Since they were still officially on shift, Castle knew Beckett hadn't gone far. He checked the break room, the stairwell and even the alley out back, though she wasn't in any of the places she usually disappeared to. Ultimately, he found her in the basement gym working over a punching bag.

Damn.

Castle could not honestly recall if he had ever seen her in the NYPD gym before. They had never worked out together, but he thought he remembered seeing her there once or twice early on in their partnership. If that was the case, his brain clearly had not accurately remembered how good she looked in workout attire.

Wearing ass-hugging calf-length spandex pants and an athletic cut tank top with her hair in a high ponytail, Kate Beckett was the epitome of sexy. The slight sheen of sweat atop her brow and the muscular display of her triceps and shoulders as her arm snapped forward and retracted from the bag made Castle swallow hard. Even the comical sight of her oversized red boxing gloves did nothing to detract tingling sensations from speeding directly towards his groin.

He knew he should have gone directly to the men's locker room and hopped in a cold shower, but against his better judgment he approached her. At that midday hour the gym was almost empty so he saw no harm in having a little fun with her. Maybe it would make her forget she was furious with him.

Castle approached from the opposite side of her punching bag and held on to the back side of it. "Great job; you killed it," he told her.

She didn't even look at him; she merely continued punching. "Leave me alone, Castle."

Knowing for the sake of their partnership he had to be the bigger person, he craned his head around the side of the bag to look at her. "I came to apologize, okay? It was not my intention to upset you; I was just trying to break the guy." He informed her. Her eyes flicked in his direction, but she didn't stop punching the bag with even intervals. After a beat went by, he continued. "And I also think we should talk about what happened in your apartment the other night because you're clearly still upset about that."

"I'm not upset," she growled.

"Yeah, okay."

"And I don't—want—to—talk—about—it," she said, punching the bag with every break in speech. Finally, for emphasis, she stood back and roundhouse kicked the hanging object.

Castle grunted when the bag slammed unexpectedly hard into his chest. "Jesus, Kate; did you run out of Midol this morning, or what?"

She glared at him, arm hanging limp at her sides as she breathed heavily. "Dick," she accused.

Castle fought a laugh. "Okay, you don't want to talk, that's fine, but I have some things to say, and I'd like you to listen." He waited for her to rebut; when she didn't, he continued. "The other night at your apartment we had…what I'll call a moment."

A blip of laughter escaped Kate's lips and she rolled her eyes.

"We did," he insisted. "We had a moment—a nice moment. We kissed…among other things," he said with a not-so-hidden smirk. "And yes, I stopped things from going any further—that's on me, but, Kate, I didn't stop us because I didn't want to; I stopped us because the situation was wrong; the timing was wrong. I wasn't rejecting you. You understand that right?"

She averted her eyes, and said nothing. He took a step closer and continued, "I'd be happy to take you on a date—a real date. Is that what you want? Dinner? A movie? Dinner and a movie?"

She gazed at him sharply under her brow. "I'd rather snack on broken glass."

Castle lifted his gaze to the sky in sheer defeat. There was just no winning with her! If he even thought there was an ounce of truth in her statement he would have walked away, but he knew there wasn't so, like a true masochist, he continued. "Fine, Kate; whatever. You don't want to have a serious conversation about this, that's fine, but just for the record this is what happens to people who bottle up all their emotions behind walls guarded by barbed wire and grenades. When you finally let a little bit of that emotion out it comes out all warped and crazy!"

Kate growled at him and he watched her shoulders and neck tense.

Okay, so it probably was not the best idea to indirectly call her crazy. Particularly not when she was wearing boxing gloves. Then again, the gloves were definitely preferable to a gun.

She took one swing at him and he ducked. Backing away quickly he said, "C'mon Beckett." She swung again and he dodged. "Beckett!"

"Come back here!" she demanded somewhat foolishly.

"No," he said, seeking safety on the other side of a weight bench. "I'm not going to fight you."

"Why not!?" she demanded.

"Uh…because we're not teenagers and this isn't a school yard?" he quipped. Despite his comment (or, perhaps, directly because of it) she swung at him again. That time, he saw it coming and was able to catch her forearm and twist it behind her back like she was a suspect he was cuffing. She bucked against him, but his other arm looped around her waist, holding her firm. "Stop trying to hit me," he growled into her ear. He held her for ten seconds and then released her.

"Fine!" She whipped around so that she faced him and could see any oncoming attacks. Using her teeth. She loosened the wrist restraints on her gloves and tossed them aside. "You don't want to fight? Let's…let's wrestle instead."

"Um, why?" he inquired, his tone clearly indicating he thought she was growing crazier with each passing second.

"Because!"

"Because why?" he retorted. Then, it dawned on him. He stepped over the weight bench as he spoke, "Oh I see—you're just trying to get out your sexual tension, right? Wrestling is kind of like sex…with clothes on."

Honestly, he wasn't sure what made him bait her that way. In the state she was in, it was essentially the same as poking an angry grizzly with a stick and then dangling fresh meat in its face just a bit too far out of reach. Her chest began to heave with how heavily she was breathing and how her heart was racing. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to try and kill him.

"You are," she spat, "without a doubt the most frustrating, ignorant, complete and total ass of a partner I have ever had!"

"Ah," he smiled, holding up a finger. "But I am still your partner, right?"

"Huh?" Her response was not eloquent, but it did indicate her fury level had lessened slightly.

"That's the other reason I came to see you, Kate. Montgomery witnessed our little argument and he's none too pleased. He implied that if we don't start getting along then he's going to terminate our partnership. That's not what you want, is it Kate?"

She lowered her eyes and scraped her sneaker against the gym mats. "Well, I really don't have the time to break in a new partner so no, I guess not."

Castle smiled inwardly at her evasive answer. "Good, because I don't want that either. And if you don't want to go out on a date with me that's fine; I respect that. But we need to call a truce, okay? Let's put this whole thing behind us." He extended his hand out to her as a peace offering.

Tentatively, Kate pressed her hand into hers. When they shook, she repeated, "Truce."

"Great!" he proclaimed. Then, before she could pull her hand back, he strengthened his grip on it and used it to pull her arm towards him. She was caught so off-guard that her whole body tumbled into his and she pressed her free hand against his bicep to steady herself.

"What was that!?"

"Oh," he said, holding her hand firmly in hers, "I just thought I'd help you with that whole…unresolved sexual tension thing."

She swallowed hard as she looked up at him, their noses all but bumping together. "Oh?"

"Yeah."

"H-how are you going to do that?"

Castle smiled wider at how her voice cracked on the first word of her question. "I'm going to kiss you."

"You can't kiss me."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice softer as he lowered his chin. That time, their noses did bump together. "Afraid you'll like it?"

Her jaw dropped and her nose wrinkled with offense. "Not a ch-"

Castle's mouth crushing over hers cut off his speech. Honestly, he half expected a knee to his groin, but was most grateful it never came. Instead, she leaned into their kiss as her fingertips curled around his arm. As Castle slid his free hand under her jaw, his other hand loosened and she took the opportunity to push herself from his embrace, abruptly ending their kiss.

Their gazes held together for several moments before a noise at the opposite end of the gym pulled both their attentions away. Castle looked to his left and realized the sound came from an officer entering the gym and slamming the door to the men's locker room a bit too hard behind him. Other than him, the gym was empty, so no one had seen their kiss; thank goodness.

Castle was in the process of turning his eyes back to his partner when he felt a sharp pain in his bicep. Instinctively, he yelped and put his hand over the tender spot. Looking back to his partner he realized she'd punched him.

"That," she said, "was for kissing me."

He grumbled under his breath as he rubbed the sore spot. Okay, she hadn't hit him that hard. More so, he was startled. Still, he couldn't help but grin as he watched her leave. She had kissed him back and that certainly had to count for something.