A/N- There is actually so much I want to improve on in this story, but I need to find a beta reader whose own vision of the characters matches mine and who is willing to beta M rated stuff (seriously, who doesn't like the sexy-fics?) .

So, my disclaimer is- I want to improve, I already have a list of bugbears in this story, I would LOVE to work with a beta on this and on another fic i am already working on... but in the mean time you're all gonna get stuck with this initial draft.

The story is complete. I just need to tweak and check a reference from an episode before I can post the whole thing.

Laughter.

In the end it didn't happen the way she imagined. And when it came to Richard Castle there wasn't a whole lot she hadn't imagined; a night of drunken passion, forgetting themselves in a haze of post-near-death euphoria, fingers trespassing while snuggled on the couch under the guise of movie night, and a great many undercover kisses requiring far less clothing.

She hadn't ever imagined that, in the end, she would just give in. Or that the sound of their combined laughter would be the catalyst.

A closed case (involving swinging spinsters in a retirement village) and 6pm on a Friday night had combined and left her feeling relaxed and something close to content.

"We really do need more cases with naked seventy year olds," Castle smiled as he spoke, leaning back in their booth at the Old Haunt, "Although, having listened to Mr Angelo relaying events in detail I'm not sure tequila shots will hold the same allure ever again." He wiggled his eyebrows in a parody of sexiness but his laughter touched his eyes.

"We can only hope that we'll be sucking on limes at seventy, Castle." Beckett took a mouthful of her beer to cover her smile knowing full well where her partner's mind would have taken him.

"You can-" Castle started. His body stilled with the taunt on the tip of his tongue as his brain caught up with his over-eager mouth.

"I can what, Castle?" Beckett smirked, leaning forward and nudging his knee with her own "I can suck your lime anytime?" She suggested.

"No! No, no." He denied vehemently as he sat up straight, one hand raised in surrender.

The panic in his expression made her laugh openly.

"I was going to make a joke about Nikki and Rook, but, come to think of it, I like yours better." Castle grinned and returned the knee bump as he relaxed back against the cushioned upholstery again.

"I wish I had a photo of Espo's face when Lanie first mentioned the poker chips."

Castle's eyes widened and he squared his shoulders before he repeated the detective's words from earlier in the day "She had them where? And you found traces of what?" His strangled voice was such a perfect imitation of Esposito that Beckett couldn't help the laugh that broke free, and the pair allowed the stress of the week to fade as their laughter mingled.

Castle was the first to grow quiet. "You should laugh more often, Kate." He said tenderly. His hand moved several inches across the table before it stopped halfway between his empty glass and the beer bottle Beckett held.

The warmth in his voice and the pure openness of his gaze dropped the last of Beckett's defences. The laughter faded but her smile held. A completely foreign feeling of joy flowed through her and she moved forward without thinking. "Lately, it feels like I do." She admitted. She met his gaze and forced herself not to turn away, instead she allowed herself the rare luxury of basking in their connection.

They'd been through so much over the past year, both good and bad, and it had only served to strengthen their bond. With a sudden clarity Beckett realised that whatever doubts and fears she had clung to in order to force a nonexistent distance between them suddenly seemed like another layer of lies. She did not doubt the love, the loyalty, or the strength of this man. She was not afraid to let him love her. In fact she sought out proof of his unwavering support every time she felt the darkness creep into her soul. And she loved him back with a fierceness she'd never before dreamed of.

She'd spent the last six months jealously guarding the secret of his devotion to her and never had the courage to let him know the feeling was very much mutual. Beckett felt tears threaten and knew them for what they were; relief, acceptance, surrender.

A feather-light touch at her fingertips threatened to draw her eyes away until she recognised the feel of polished timber under her palm and realised it was her own hand closing the distance between them. Conscious of the movement now she allowed her fingers to find the grooves between his and slid her hand to lie on top.

Their eyes held and the feeling of peace from mere moments before was rapidly replaced with a swirling jolt of nervous desire. Across from her Castle had stilled with an almost inaudible inhalation.

Beckett smiled and continued to run her hand up past his wrist until the tips of her fingers disappeared under the small gap at his sleeve. "Take me home, Castle." Her voice was little more than a whisper.

The sounds of their fellow patrons at the bar faded until she could hear nothing but her too-loud heart beats as she waited for him to respond.

"Are you tired?" he asked, his carefully neutral voice betrayed by the thudding pulse point at his neck.

"No, Castle, I'm not tired," Beckett smiled.

A half-cough, that may have been Castle clearing his throat, was his only reply for an almost uncomfortably long moment. "I caught a cab in this morning. I don't have my car." He hesitated again, studying her intently. "But I can walk you home if you want to call it a day?"

She could feel him start to pull away and she regretted, once again, the barrier she had created between them with her fears and her lies. She regretted even more fiercely that she had caused him so much pain by forcing him to wait, impotently, as she meted out pieces of her heart and then stole them back again.

Beckett ghosted her fingers across the warmth of his forearm both to reassure him and to satisfy her own need to maintain contact. "Come home with me?" she hoped the invitation was clear.

His half smile didn't quite reach his eyes and she knew he was maintaining his steadfast position on the other side of the line they so frequently toed. Beckett felt the weight of his gaze as she reached for her coat and knew he was trying to solve the puzzle she had just created. She slipped out of the booth and slid her arms into her coat in one smooth movement.

A full step behind her Castle grabbed his gloves and jacket. Before standing he reached for his glass and swallowed the dregs of his drink; nothing but melted ice and the hint of scotch, but he needed something to remedy the dryness in his mouth.

He struggled into his jacket and he took two hurried steps to catch up. From behind the bar a voice called to them as they reached the door, "Have a nice night, Rick, Detective."

Castle turned back to offer a wave to his bar tender, "Thanks, Carl, you too. I'll check in with you over the weekend."

A blast of cold air hit him as he moved to reach for the handle. Beside him Beckett held the door open and waited for him step through in front of her. Her mouth fought against a smile. He laughed at her gesture and reached an arm around behind her to press lightly at her back, ushering her through alongside him, their hips brushing together.

After a few steps Beckett reached behind herself and linked their fingers; left hand to left hand. Castle squeezed her hand briefly in acknowledgement but said nothing as they turned onto the sidewalk.

"The silence is killing me, Castle."

"Silence?"

"You! You're never this quiet."

"Ah, Detective." He lowered his head until his mouth was at her temple. "Are you missing the sound of my voice?"

Even without being able to see his face Beckett knew he was smirking. "And if I say 'yes' will you read me a story when we get to my apartment?"

"A bedtime story?" his playful banter was back.

The trepidation Beckett had felt creeping in quickly faded. "Perhaps," She pulled their joined hands to her hip almost forcing him to wrap his arm around her waist. "I haven't heard a single whisper about your next book. What are Nikki and Rook up to?" She kept her tone light; both to give him a chance to catch up and to allow herself time to regain her bearings. It's not every day that you decide to just surrender to the army of one that has laid an unwavering siege against an impenetrable wall.

"Are you sure you want a sneak preview?"

"Dazzle me with your brilliance, Richard Castle."

"Hmmm, 'brilliance', that's a lot of pressure. Lucky for you my muse has been beyond-inspiring of late."

"Really?" she flashed him a shy smile, her tone half a question.

"Really, what?"

"Beyond inspiring? Seriously, Castle?" When Castle didn't answer after several seconds Beckett pushed further. "I'm not going to be reading about handcuffs or haunted houses in the next Nikki Heat am I?"

"Only if you read from my private collection of works," He replied, deadpan, having to look down at her where she was pressed into his side.

"If you had a private collection of works I'd be very nervous." Beckett's nose crinkled as she grinned at him. Her face was almost flush against his shoulder and curls of her hair blew across her cheek and onto the lapel of his jacket as the wind gusted around them. They weaved together through the early Friday evening crowd, the street busy despite the cold.

"What makes you think I don't?" he asked, cheekily.

"Do you?" She stopped walking suddenly. The pull of their joined hands bought Castle around in front of her.

"I'll never tell!" the creases at the corners of his eyes were like a red flag to a bull.

"Castle." She growled, it was both a warning and a plea.

He laughed openly at her frustration and stepped backwards, letting go of her hand. "Let's get a cab; it's too cold to be out here." He stepped to the edge of the pavement and glanced along the road looking for a ride, and neatly sidestepping the conversation.

Beckett wrapped her arms around her chest in an effort to stay warm and tried to frown at her partner, "Don't think I'm letting this go."

"I'll let you interrogate me later."

She waited until a cab pulled over and he had the door open for her before she replied. "Perhaps I'll share a few stories from my own private collection?" Her voice dropped on the word 'private' and she knew she had him when it took him several moments before he climbed in after her.

tbc...