Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I watch the show.

A/N This chapter is also rated M.

"Time to play ball, Beckett," he says, rolling over and getting out of bed.

"I think that's what we just did." She's pleased that he's standing close enough that she can reach out and lightly swat him on the knee. The same knee that only half an hour ago was, to her immeasurable delight, nudging her thighs apart. Reveling in that memory, she gets out of bed, too, and follows him into the dining room, where he immediately sits in his chair.

"Continuing the baseball metaphor," he says, grinning at her so wickedly that she's tempted to drag him right back to bed, "you're up."

Before commenting, she sits down and moves her tiles around. "Brace yourself," she says, quickly putting a G above the O in CHOCHA, and below it an N, followed by an A and a D. "That's GONAD, and a double-word score, so fourteen points for me." She holds up her hand. "And since gonad is irrefutably–"

"Irrefutably? Bringing out the big guns, Beckett."

She gives a look designed to unnerve him. "Trying to put me off my game, Castle? Won't work. As I was saying, since gonad is irrefutably a synonym for the noun version of the last word played, ball, I get five points. Nineteen altogether."

"Noun version of BALL, huh?"

"Yup."

"Okay, then. Nut."

"Stone."

"Nard."

"Cojon. If you can use Spanish, so can I."

"Wouldn't the singular be cojone?"

"It would not. But feel free to look it up."

"Never mind. I think what I'll feel free to do is play my turn." He hums a tune so softly that she can't hear it properly. "This goes nicely with your perfume. Which, by the way, is still driving me wild. Anyway, for this I don't even mind wasting a blank on a double-letter square." He puts the blank tile to the left of the second U in QUEUE, and an M to the right of it. "The M is on a double-letter square, too. That's only seven points, but I'm proud to say that it's not only a filthy word but something irrefutably related to sex. Released during."

"So I guess that blank represents not at least seven other letters that I could name, but a C?"

"Excellent deductive reasoning, Beckett. No wonder you're such an ace detective. Both the C's have already been played, so I used a blank. CUM it is."

She doesn't wait a second. "Rope."

"Load."

"Wad."

"Cream."

"Erectoplasm."

That makes him laugh. "Oh, good one. Erectoplasm."

"Thanks." A light suddenly goes on in her brain. "Aha! I just got it."

"Got what?"

"What you were humming a minute ago. It was 'Something's Coming,' wasn't it? From West Side Story. Good one, too, Castle." She picks up her pencil, gives him seven points for his word and ten points for synonyms, and with considerable satisfaction adds fifteen more synonym points to her own score. "My turn."

Putting an L to the right of the A in GONAD and working downwards, she quickly spells out LABIA. "Double word, sixteen points. You get seven for my AL and DA. Although it should be reward enough for you to see LABIA on the board, knowing how you feel about mine."

"I feel–"

"Shut up."

"Okay. Shutting up. But also playing a word now."

"That was fast."

"I know you like slow, Beckett, but I can also do fast. I also know that you hate this word, but I can't let that bother me in the war that is Dirty Word Scrabble. This word is allowable and it's also a synonym for your last one." He puts a T to the left of the last letter in LABIA, and below it W, A, and T. "TWAT. Double word, fourteen points, and you get two points for TA."

"It's a disgusting word, Castle."

"You're the one who made up this game. No grousing, please."

"Fine." Oh, she'd been hoping for this the minute she had drawn the J, and here's her opportunity now that she has an S. "I think you'll like this one, Castle. It intersects, appropriately, with DICKS." She puts her J above the I in DICKS, and an S and M underneath. "JISM. Now there's a word I really love. And it's worth twenty-six points."

"Jism is beyond worth, Beckett."

"Spoken like a true gentleman."

"Bet your bottom dollar. Or at least your bottom." He looks smugly at his letters. "Oh, you're not going to like this, either. It's a real guy word. Look." He starts putting down his letters, beginning with P to the left of the A in TWAT, and then a downward string of U, T, A, N, and G. "PUTANG! See it cozying up to TWAT like that? Perfect placement, wouldn't you say? Cute little synonyms."

"Cute?"

"Well, I'm being decorous. Anyway, it's seventeen points for me, and, hmm, twelve for you for PA and UT. That's a net gain for me of only five, but I don't mind." He smacks his lips. "Putang."

"Geez."

"Geez? That reminds me, the Z still hasn't shown up."

"Nope. And I got nothing but junk here."

"You have junk over there? I'm the one with junk. Guys have junk." He's cackling.

"I should throw one of my junk, as in low-scoring, letters at you, Castle." She stares at the board and begins to smile. "Ah, but thanks to the G you just played, I can get rid of five of them." She makes a horizontal line of them that attach to the G in PUTANG. "Triple word. Twenty-one points for EATING." When she looks up his eyes are boring into her, and just like that he makes jelly of her knees.

"Cunnilingus," he says, way too smoothly.

"Fellatio," she answers.

"Suck."

"Blow."

"Slurpy."

"Uh-oh, here he comes. She feels his foot moving up her calf and onto her inner thigh. He knows exactly how she reacts to that.

"I love slurpies, Beckett," he says, pitching his voice in a way that reduces her to whatever this is. A puddle, something. "I really, really love slurpies. And so do you. Too bad there's no Seven-Eleven nearby, or I'd go get you a slurpy. Or better yet, I could improvise right here, couldn't I? Give you the other kind of slurpy, the kind you're crazy about. The one with all-natural ingredients."

How he has such soft feet she doesn't know. No callouses, no rough skin, nothing. They're perfect. It's probably some zillion-dollar cream he uses. His arch is caressing her thigh and his toes are curling, so close to her–. "Gaahhh."

"Oh, yes, the slurpy you're craving is totally organic."

She can barely keep her eyes open, and he's still talking. His foot is still sliding around–.

"Not vegetarian, of course, especially with all that tongue in it."

Her eyes are about to roll back into their sockets, but her ears are functioning. She can hear him.

"Why, Beckett. You're so flushed. Are you feeling a little hot? You look awfully hot. But your nipples are puckered, as if they were cold."

She probably wouldn't have been capable of realizing that he's just stood up, except that his foot has disappeared from her thigh and she wants it back. Now he's coming around to her side of the table.

"It's not cold in here, is it? I don't feel cold at all. If I were cold, my testicles wouldn't be where they are."

Where are they? Oh, there they are, oh. And definitely not shrinking. Nothing about him is shrinking. Expanding, yes.

"How about I help you out, Beckett? Out of your chair, that is." Suddenly his arms are around her, and he's lifting her. "Mmmm, you look good enough to eat, here on the table. Do you mind if I sit in your chair? Because I think if I do, and you stay right there, it would be the perfect spot for a slurpy."

Her eyes are closed again, but every nerve in her body is on high alert. She feels him slide her back a little from the edge of the table, feels his hands on her thighs, and then his tongue. He's stopped talking, but there's a loop in her head playing "all that tongue in it." Oh, that tongue. But lips, too, and fingers. One finger, two fingers, more tongue, is that three fingers? She can't count. And he's holding her down and working her up and there's his tongue again doing the most miraculous things and she's trying to hang onto his head but she can't and holy mother of God, what was that?

"Wow, Kate!"

She has to get her breath, maybe get a coherent thought, too. In a minute. She finally opens her eye to see his focussed on hers. He's looking happily dazed.

"That was incredible."

"You're telling me, slurpy man."

"You squirted once before, you remember?"

"I may be half out of my mind at the moment, Castle," she says, sitting up and draping her legs over his shoulders. "But yes, I do remember. Our first night. First time for me."

"Yeah, well, take it from me. That wasn't even a hint of what was to come. So to speak."

"You're licking your lips."

"Told you I loved slurpies."

"Let's trade places."

"Really?"

"Really. Get on the table and I'll get down. My turn to go down."

"Told you I loved your mouth, too."

She slides her legs off him and stands up, not surprised that she's a little wobbly. "You'll love it even more in a minute, I promise." She's just about to take him in her mouth when she looks at him and says, "You know, we've been together for almost two months and we still act like sex-starved teenagers."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Hell, no."

"Good. And speak for yourself. I never did anything half this good when I was a teenager."

"Neither did I. You think we'll still be like this when we're ancient?"

"Definitely. As long as our parts are working."

"I have no doubt they will be. And on that subject, it's time for me to get to work on that part of yours."

"Work? You call that work?"

"Play," she says a few moments later, after giving him his first, long lick. "You're my one-man playground."

She can both feel and sense that he's desperately trying not to come, to hold off as long as he can. She wants him. Now. Not after recovery time, now. She lets go.

"Beckett? Kate?" He's not gasping, but close to it. "Why did you stop?"

She gets on the table and crawls on top of him. "Because I can't stand waiting to have you inside me, that's why. And you're ready–"

"Oh, I'm ready."

"And so am I," she says, sinking down on to him.

"You like this part?" he says, smiling up at her.

"Love this part. I love all your parts." She starts to ride him hard, and when she leans down to kiss him, he sweeps his arm up to draw her in.

There's an odd swoosh next to them, followed by a soft thud and a lot of clatter, the sound of wood falling on wood. They're chest to sweaty chest, and nose to nose, and they freeze. "Was that?" he asks, a trace of horror in his eyes.

"The game? Yeah. I think you knocked it onto the floor."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I mean, we weren't through, and I know how competitive you are."

"I'm competitive? I'm competitive? What about you?"

"I am, too. I admit it. I don't know what the score was, but you were ahead."

She gives him her best smile, the one no one else has ever gotten or will ever get from her. "I was. But here's one of the best things I've learned in the last couple of months. You're an incredibly, incredibly strong finisher."

A/N And that's a wrap. Or in their case, unwrap. Thank you all, including the guest reviewers whom I can thank only here (like Hawkie. Nice to see your name again!).