A/N: An alternate version of Cops and Robbers. Because there can never be enough of those. One shot. Mistakes are mine. Castle is not.

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Serious Thought

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The force of the explosion rocked the surveillance van hard enough to send pens skittering across the floor and the slew of monitors and other electronics rocking gently on their stands. Beckett stiffened without a sound, the hand holding her cell phone dropping heavily to her side. Esposito was still talking through it, forgotten, so he must not have heard the blast. She stood slowly and made her way out of the van, trailing a hand along the wall and giving her head a shake. She wasn't sure if the ringing in her ears was from the force of the blast or because of what she knew it might mean.

There was a time when she was better at this. When the threat of danger or the immediate aftermath of a disaster would leave her somber, but energized. When her best work was done under pressure that felt motivating instead of cloying. Before her shooting. Before Montgomery. Before it was Castle in the bank.

Castle.

Outside it was surprisingly quiet. A fine layer of dust covered the ground, the vehicles, and the officers who were preparing to storm the bank. Their voices called out through the dusky smoke, ringing out in clear contrast to the stunned silence of the surrounding crowd with their wide eyes and their hands over their mouths. Beckett's eyes drifted toward the ground, detached, idly watching her feet leave trails in the grey dust like furry boots in an early snowfall, the kind that had been her favorite before winter only represented death and bitter cold. A radio squawked loudly close by and brought her attention back to the present.

Moving with a purpose now, Beckett found the officer in charge, noting the fresh scratches across his cheek and the slight burning smell emanating from his clothes. He must have been close to the building. She spoke quietly, but firmly. The negotiations captain did the same. She was going in with them.

Beckett broke through the door in the second phalanx of officers, squinting through the sting in her eyes; filth or fear causing tears to gather at the corners. The air was dry and bitter with bits of debris grinding between her teeth.

"Castle!" She was half shouting, half growling. Gun at the ready, she moved quickly through the ruined lobby, glass and plastic crunching under her feet. The officers spread out, clearing one area at a time, voices calling out orders and status updates that Beckett was only peripherally aware of. "Castle!"

"Beckett!" It was Martha's voice that responded, wavering a little, but loud and determined. Beckett jogged around a corner and could just see the dark shapes of the huddled hostages in the dim light of an enclosed alcove. Through the bars she caught sight of Martha's gaudy jacket and offered a smile, or something like one.

"Hey, Martha." She made her way closer, forcing open the barred but luckily unlocked door. "They're here!" She called back over her shoulder, her voice hoarse with the dust and smoke and emotion. When she turned back, she cast her eyes around the group. "Everyone ok?"

There were murmurs of assent and she allowed herself a deep breath of relief before turning back to Martha, where she expected Castle to be grinning at her.

"Castle..."

But he wasn't there. Startled, she looked around more carefully. No Castle. "Martha? Where-"

"They took him away, Kate. Down the hall there," she gestured with bound hands, and Beckett finally saw the tight lines of anxiety written across her face. She turned, waved over the officers that were making their way toward the group, and ran down the hall.

She was shouting his name without pretense now, running too fast to be as careful as she should be, fully afraid. The sound of her feet on the ground and the lurch of her heart at her throat provided a beat to the unwanted mantra of her fear. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.

The adrenaline was running so high, the rush in her ears and the beat of her heart so loud, that she almost missed it. Then it came again and again, and she raced toward the sound of her name and his voice.

She slammed through a door into a dark office space before coming to an abrupt stop to blink into the darkness. Then her eyes adjusted, and there he was. Castle was sitting on the ground in the dark, dusty and dirty and tired and with a tiny trickle of blood on his temple, but whole and alive and okay. When they made eye contact he sagged back against the wall, his head falling back to rest, and he smiled wearily.

"Hey, Beckett, what took you so long?"

Instead of unwinding her, the relief reverberated through her with a brand new surge of adrenaline. Sucking a breath in through her nose, she holstered her weapon and made her way to him quickly with her hands shaking and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She dropped to her knees next to him, close enough that Castle jumped a little when her knees connected with the floor, and hugged him tightly.

It was awkward. She had to lean into him from the side and her knuckles and forearms scrapped unpleasantly across the wall behind him. It was inelegant and clumsy, but she tucked her head under his chin and squeezed hard; hard enough to squeeze out some of the adrenaline, hard enough so that maybe she wouldn't cry when she spoke.

"You were gone, Castle. I thought you were gone."

She squeezed him just a little harder, her elbows knocking painfully against the wall, so that maybe he wouldn't notice she was crying a little, and so she could reassure herself that he was here.

"I'm here, Kate. I'm here. I'm fine. Kate."

She could feel his voice rumbling through his chest and into hers. Without thought, she pressed her lips into the fabric of his shirt, resting there for a moment. Then, because of the adrenaline and his deep voice and the smell of his cologne and the warm relief that was finally uncoiling the chill in her belly and her arms around his back, she turned her head to kiss his neck. Then his jaw. Then his cheek. And finally up to brush her lips against his.

She kissed him there, in the dark of the offices in the back of the bank. Nothing earth shattering, just the warm press of her lips against his before she pulled back. He was watching her with parted lips and kind eyes, but she realized suddenly that he hadn't really kissed her back. Hadn't even lifted a hand to touch her, and she was practically draped over his lap.

Her face flushed. Not the pink tinge of embarrassment or shy arousal but the flaming heat of humiliation and rejection. After all this time, she had never imagined that he would be over her, that he would say no, that he didn't want her as much as she wanted him. She jerked away and hissed softly when her knees protested.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Castle, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have, it's just that I was thinking earlier and I didn't stop..."

"Beckett," Castle tried to interrupt, but she spoke over him, thankful for the dim lighting to at least hide the shame coloring her face.

"Come on, let's get out of here, Martha's out there, she's okay but she'll want to see you and Alexis is outside, she's going to kill me if I don't bring you to her right away so we should probably just go. Outside, now," she ended abruptly, pointing toward the door while awkwardly standing to stare down at him with wide eyes. When he didn't get up right away, she reluctantly held out a hand to help him up.

"Beckett," Castle said again, patiently. "Maybe you could untie my hands first?" He twisted a little to bring his wrists, bound behind his back, into view.

"Oh," she said, somewhat dumbly. She stood still for a beat too long, before dropping back down beside him. "Of course."

Beckett cut the zip ties and winced sympathetically at the dark red welts in his skin. She watched while he rolled his shoulders and rubbed at the sore spots before flexing his wrists until the joints cracked. She quashed the urge to reach out and soothe the injuries herself. Instead she sat back on her haunches and clasped her hands at her knees, rubbing lightly at the sore skin there, uncertain now just how uncomfortable she should be feeling.

She just kissed him. And now... what?

Castle clambered to his feet then, and reached down to drag her up with him. He made a noise of displeasure and shook his arms out. "They're asleep," he muttered, flexing his fingers and rolling his head on his neck. "Pins and needles."

This time she did reach out and took one of his hands in hers, despite his yelp of distress, and massaged her way quickly from his finger tips to his elbow. What were partners for, right? She did the same for the other side before releasing him with a final squeeze, and stepped back, chewing her lip.

"Better?" she questioned quietly, looking away again.

"Much," he said. Then, "You're going to bite a hole through your lip if you keep at it like that."

She released her lip with a start, looking back at him, and saw that he was smiling. Smiling and somehow smug and looking intently at her mouth, and oh suddenlyhe was coming toward her. He looked predatory, almost aggressive with it, then he reached out and pulled her against him with a hand at her hip and the other at her jaw before leaning in to kiss her soundly.

A soft sound of supplication crept out of her throat, humming into the caress of his lips when he tangled one of his hands in her hair to tug lightly and change the angle of their kiss. It was sure and soft and wet and tongue and teeth and Beckett could feel herself growing a little lightheaded with it. Too much emotion for one day, like too much sun and not enough water on a day at the beach, and she tightened her grip at his shoulders to stay upright.

Castle seemed to share her sentiment and pulled away with a final tug at her lower lip, tucking her into his chest and wrapping both arms around her. Beckett sighed and allowed herself the luxury of closing her eyes and leaning against him. "Long day," she murmured.

Yeah," he replied.

"Not over yet."

"No." Then they stood quietly, swaying a little, wrapped up in the embrace.

It felt like long minutes went by, though it was probably only a few, before a throat was cleared pointedly by the doorway.

"Partner, eh?" The police captain grinned wryly at her. "I should have guessed. Not to interrupt but you, Mister Castle, have some family out here that would love to see you."

He left, and Castle started to step back, but Beckett held on, keeping him close for another moment. She tipped her head up so she could see him while she spoke.

"I was thinking, earlier out in front of the bank, about how much I wanted this. I was thinking, 'Castle is in that building and he might die'-"

"Kate, I was never really in that much danger."

Becket smiled and shook her head before continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "...and he might die, and I've never really shown him how I felt. I was thinking, today he made a joke about me needing him and I almost came undone because it isn't funny; it's true. I was thinking how nice this would feel..." She squeezed her arms playfully around his waist, "and I was thinking that I couldn't remember why I was still fighting this. I don't remember why, Castle."

"That's a lot of thinking, Detective Beckett, for someone who's supposed to be talking down a bank robber."

She smiled, and released him. "I was just thinking about us, Castle." She shrugged, a little lighter for her confession. She reached out and took his hand. "Come on, want to investigate a bank robbery?"

"I've got to tell you, Beckett, there's something strange about this whole thing. These guys were professionals. But I heard them when the bomb went off. Did they blow themselves up?"

"Looks like."

"Something doesn't add up. We need to look into who they were."

"Go hug your family first. Then we investigate."

"But not too late, tonight," Castle grinned, swinging their hands as they stepped out into the corridor. "Mother has a way of celebrating even the tiniest achievements with big celebratory dinners. I'd bet the loft we'll have one tonight. Because today we were in a bank robbery and lived to tell the tale."

"Will there be wine?"

"Definitely."

"I'm invited?"

"Always."

She smiled. "Hey, Castle, why were you in the room all by yourself?"

He grimaced, looked sideways at her, seemed to consider not answering, then shrugged. "They said I talked too much."

Beckett laughed long and hard. He was never going to live it down.

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_(end)_

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A/N Thanks for reading. I'm not marking this complete because there are one or two other one shots that I think would fit the title, but this one is done. :)

Also, I think I like writing flustered Beckett b/c we don't really see it on the show. I assume it happens off camera.