"I think that we saved a girl's life and that's enough for me."

She mulls over the case that night as she soaks in her tub, bubbles up to her chin, the decadent flavor of wine on her tongue. Her head falls back against the cool porcelain, and she lets the stress of the day fall away. She doesn't want to think about how she almost lost him today, doesn't want to think about the gut-wrenching panic she felt when Sophia had the gun pointed at her partner's head. She doesn't want to know what she'd do if …

No, she's not thinking about it.

She sinks further into the warmth of the bath, letting the water rise to her ears, enveloping her into the quiet nothingness of water and soap bubbles. She's probably as wrinkled as a prune, but she doesn't want to get out of the tub just yet. She has her wine, she has the soft melody of Coltrane floating through her apartment, all she needs for this night to be perfect is Cas-

Her eyes fly open and she chides herself for the stray thought. She's not doing this tonight.

She does however wonder what he's doing right now, if he's still wallowing about Sophia being a turncoat, if he's still wondering about his father, if he's also submerged in his fancy spa bath with the jets thinking about whether they really saved the world today.

She'd offered to buy him a burger at Remy's when they left the precinct before, but he'd declined and insisted that he needed to go home. She understands that he needs the space and that he probably needs time alone to let the events of the last few days really sink in. Hell, if anyone understands needing space, it's her and she does want to give him the time but she nearly lost him today. She'd sat there useless, unable to move, her hands behind her back, staring at the gun pointed at his head, visions of their time together flashing in front her mind's eye.

A chill runs through her, like ice in her veins and it's not from the rapidly cooling water. Yeah, she could have lost him today, yesterday - dirty bombs, tigers, drowning in the Hudson, double agents. Fuck. Castle almost died and where would that have left her? With nothing but the one single kiss he stole from her, with broken promises of a life she could have had with him if she hadn't lied to him, late night fantasies of a 'them' that never existed, an empty void of longing and pain that she'd inflicted upon herself – shit. She feels like she's drowning, like a panic attack is about to set in but she grits her teeth and counts to ten, breathes in, then out. In then out.

When her heartbeat slows down to a more steady beat, Beckett climbs out of the tub, pulls the plug and towels herself dry as the bath drains.

She'd told him before they left the precinct that saving the girl's life was enough for her. Well, maybe it wasn't quite enough. Not anymore.

She needs to see him now. She needs him.

He opens his door mere seconds after she's done knocking. He looks weary and she doesn't blame him. It's late, she knows, but judging from the glass of amber liquid in his hand, she hasn't woken him up from sleep.

"Beckett." He doesn't sound surprised as he lets her enter, but he does give her a questioning look when he shuts the door and turns back around to face her. "To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?"

"I um … wanted to make sure you were okay," she says. She tugs at her oversized sweatshirt uneasily, feeling completely out of her element. Maybe she should have put on more appropriate clothing for this - she's in her NYPD sweatshirt, yoga pants and she hasn't done anything to her hair, leaving it in an unruly mess of curls hanging down her shoulders.

"I'm fine, Beckett. But are you?" He sounds concerned and he puts his glass of scotch down on the kitchen counter before he approaches her. "Do you want to sit down, maybe?"

She shakes her head and takes a step towards him. "No, I'm okay, I just … I'm glad you're not dead."

"I'm glad I'm not dead too."

"I just … I don't know what I'd do. If she shot you, I mean. I don't know … Castle, I-"

Oh, he's hugging her. She didn't know it, but it's exactly what she needed. She'd come for comfort not knowing how to ask for it but here he is, her lovely, loyal, amazing partner who knows exactly what she needs. He's warm and smells of fresh laundry and the faint hint of the cologne he usually wears. His arms are strong and solid around her, biceps curling wonderfully around her upper body and she marvels at how well they fit together. She takes in a few shaky breaths and burrows herself deeper into his embrace.

"Just breathe, Kate. Just breathe. I'm right here, I'm alive."

His voice soothes her thudding heart, calms her down and he's strokes her back, fingers drawing circles against the material of her shirt, warmth spreading from his fingers through her entire being. She basks in her partner's scent and tilts her face upwards, nudging his cheek with her nose, light stubble scratching against her skin. He's so close, his lips mere inches away from her own, so sinfully tempting. She wants to say she's not affected at all by their close proximity but their recent close calls with death have triggered something within her and she feels the arousal slowly unfurling from her core.

She knows she lied; she's painfully aware of it. She told him about walls and not being ready, but right here in this moment, everything feels so right. She loves him - she can admit that much to herself - and she doesn't want to live another day without letting him know just how much. She cannot live another day like that.

"You're alive," she whispers, dusting kisses along his jawline, throwing caution to the wind. He's alive and he loves her. He loves her and she's been lying to him for so long, she's tired of it. So very tired.

"I love you," The words fall softly from her lips, unbidden. He gasps audibly, not expecting the sudden turn of events and she wants him to know, to really know she means it. "I love you, Castle."

She stares into his eyes, willing him to believe her, to read between the lines like they're so accustomed to do. His hands come up to cup her face, and he touches his forehead to hers. "I know, Kate. I know."

He kisses her then, lips ghosting over hers gently. It's tentative, but no less electric than the first time they did it. The slant of his lips against hers sends her heart into overdrive, every part of her clamoring for a taste of him. She slicks her tongue against his lips and he parts them for her, gasping as their tongues touch. The way he's groaning into the shared space between them is sinful and it spurs her on, nipping on his bottom lip and sucking gently as an apology. She twines an arm around his neck, pulling them closer, pressing dirtily into one another.

He moves his hands, sliding them under her sweatshirt, clutching at her hips desperately even as he walks them both backwards into his bedroom. He trails kisses down her neck and she tilts her head away, giving him more access. He nips, sucks his way down to her collar bone and it sends shivers of anticipation down her spine. They eventually back into his bed and he pauses in his ministrations. Beckett pulls away, raking her eyes down her partner's body. His chest is heaving, face flushed and he looks delectable.

They stand before the edge of his bed and his hand comes up to caress the sharp lines of her face, eyes fixed upon her like he can't believe they're really, actually here. His other hand finds its way back under her shirt, sliding against the soft skin of her abdomen, trailing up, fingers skimming the smooth undersides of her breasts.

He groans at the realization and Beckett chuckles. "No bra?"

She shakes her head and nibbles on his earlobe, her hand closing around his under her shirt and guiding it up to her breast. "Are you complaining?"

"No, Kate, not complaining. Not ever."

He slides his other hand under her shirt and pulls up, tugging it over head, flinging it away as it comes loose. He lowers his head then, dusting kisses between the soft mounds of her breast and she lets out a moan of pleasure, breathless and aroused, feeling the heat curling wantonly within her. He nudges her backwards and she falls softly onto his bed as he follows.

His fingers slides up her stomach, palms her breasts as he dips his head, tongue darting out to taste her skin, her nipples pebbling at the contact with his mouth. He pulls and sucks, tweaks and circles, his mouth working in tandem with his fingers. He switches after moment, bestowing the same loving affection to the other side, eliciting louder groans of pleasure from her.

Her hands cling to his back, nails digging into his skin through the material of his shirt. She scrunches the material in frustration and tugs, grunting as Castle refuses to move to remove his own shirt.

"Castle, shirt," she murmurs between gasps of pleasure as he kisses his way down her body. "Take it off."

He eventually acquiesces, sitting up on his haunches to pull the offending material off his head. Beckett hums in approval as he leans back down over her and she drags her hands over his skin in delight. He resumes kissing her, breathy, opened mouthed kisses that sends her down a spiral of need and want. Her fingers trace invisible images over his skin, caressing, scratching, mapping every contour of his body to her memory. His weight over her feels wonderful and comforting but - fuck - next time she wants to be on top.

Her hands move downwards, sliding beneath the waistband of his pants, under his boxers and she can feel the heat of him emanating from within. He groans and bucks against her when she finds him, hot and heavy, throbbing with want as her fingers curl around him. He's big and arousal surges through her at the anticipation of him filling her, for them to finally be connected as intimately as two people can be. She strokes him, drags a finger up and down his length and he reacts viscerally, groaning into her ear, forehead resting between the juncture of her neck and her collarbone, panting hard.

His own hand sneaks between them, slides under her yoga pants and he cups her through her underwear. She's soaked through them and she's sure he can feel it, the moisture pooling at her core, probably already ruining her panties. He tugs the flimsy material to one side and slicks a finger along her slit-

Oh - fuck-

She's rolling her body against him, jolts of pleasure coursing through her at the contact. He does it again, runs a finger through her folds, nudging against her clit and Beckett lets out a loud moan, desire scorching a path through her body. She gasps when he dips a finger into her, eyes flying open at the welcome intrusion and she clamps her legs tightly around his wrist, holding it there. Her hand leaves the confines of his pants to grasp his ass, fingers kneading the flesh, pulling their lower halves together.

Their eyes meet as he slides another finger into her, silent reverence passing between them as he fucks her with his fingers, his thumb circling her clit. She rides his fingers unabashedly, her own hands curling around his shoulders, nails scraping down his back in pleasure. He's coaxing her higher and higher into the oblivion she knows he'll be sending her to soon.

"God, Castle, please - I need - need you," she gasps as she parts her legs, releasing his hand.

He pulls his fingers from her, rests them against her thigh and kisses her sweetly. "Are you sure, Kate?"

She nods and pushes her pants all the way down, toeing them off when they fall around her ankles. He groans and rids himself of his own and suddenly they're both naked and the tension climbs between them.

Beckett glances down and marvels at his size, noting that the rumours were indeed true and grins at him. She reaches down and strokes him again, pre-cum staining her fingers as she rubs her thumb over his tip. Oh she can't wait for this. She hooks both legs around his waist and pulls, bringing him down to her and oh god the skin contact-

Fuck.

His tip nudges against her core, and they both moan at the contact. "Kate, I uh - wait," he gasps, stretching out to his bedside table.

She curls her fingers around his wrist and he pauses, eyebrows cocking at her questioningly.

"I'm…I'm good. Clean, if you are?"

"Kate," He plants a dirty kiss on her lips as he moves back towards her. "Clean - I'm clean."

His eyes are bright when they meet hers again and he runs a hand over the outside of her thigh, guiding it up and over his shoulder. He kisses her again before he moves, and finally, finally.

"Cas-"

"Oh, Kate."

They let out simultaneous moans as he sinks into her, welcoming the sensations of finally being joined, of him filling her tight opening so perfectly. He gives her a moment to adjust, and she sighs, clenching her inner muscles before arching her back, jerking into him.

"Move, Castle."

It's all the encouragement he needs and he does move, thrusting into her as she raises her hips to meet his in a rhythm that comes naturally to them as if they've been doing this forever. He plunges into her, deeper with each thrust and she claws at his back, needing something to hold on to as he takes her closer and closer to the edge of release.

It's been so long, so very long since she's taken a lover and Castle - oh, it won't take much more, she knows, especially with the punishing pace they've set for themselves. She tightens her legs around him, urging him on, her fingers reaching up to card through his hair, clutching and grasping at the short strands for purchase as he drives relentlessly into her. She climbs higher, higher, inching towards the blinding relief she knows is waiting for her.

"Castle, I'm - I'm close babe, oh god-"

He takes his cue and reaches down between them. His fingers find her clit, presses against it and she explodes.

She wakes up hours later, naked, sated and boneless. She finds herself tucked against him, cocooned within his embrace, warm and comfortable under his sheets. There's a dull ache between her legs and she shifts imperceptibly to alleviate the discomfort, though she smiles when she remembers the cause of the discomfort.

"You're still here."

She pulls back and meets Castle's eyes, wide and awake, shining bright against the morning sun that filters through his curtains. He's wearing an expression of complete wonderment, as if he expected the entire night to have been a dream. Beckett smiles easily at him, strokes a finger down the side of his face.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Hi, yes it's me, this is mine. If you saw this on tumblr under some other name, I promise you it's me and I'm not plagiarizing some poor soul's work, I just posted it as an anon at first because I was terrified my first foray into the world of smut would be completely horrible. Anyway, yes thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. xx