Hello!

So this is what is going on in my head. Occasionally. Sometimes. - OK, OK, *who* am I kidding? Too often!

Takes place after solving another case. The Gang hung out at Beckett's place, playing poker, having a good time. Now, boys have left and it's just Caskett.

Somewhere during S4, before "47 Seconds".

And I really want to thank my betas Trinxy and Shena1 for the corrections and guidance. Encouragement. Rocks that rock :)

Disclaimer: I just borrow the faces (and the bodies) to share some fun with you without any attempt to earn profit. I own nothing and nobody related to "Castle" and it's characters. Really. Ask ABC or A.W. Marlowe.

They slump into the couch almost in perfect unison and take a moment to catch their breath. Castle lets his eyes aimlessly wander and takes in the surroundings of Kate's living room. His gaze bouncing off the walls and soaking in the little details before him, when he finally looks back down at their bodies sitting next to each other. Their limbs aren't touching, they don't speak, only slowly breathing in and out - the room is filled with quiet.

Then he spots it. A small but angry purple ring on her left knee is staring right back at him. He furrows his eyebrows.

"What's that?" Castle points towards Kate's legs.

"Where?"

"Right there, just above your left knee?"

"Wh-... Oh!"

Now she sees it. "Oh, I must have gotten it when I ran into the counter earlier today. Funny, I didn't feel -"

Before she knows it, her left leg is being lifted over her right one into the Castle's lap.

"Oh, you poor thing," he says with half laughter, half seriousness in his voice. He softly caresses the sore spot with his thumb, creating a heavy sweetness under it that spreads all over her body and swirls on her tongue.

"It's... not... that bad." She tries to get her leg back, but his hand is steadily curled behind the hollow of her knee. She winces.

"Maybe we should put some ice on it?" he offers.

Kate shakes her head and opens her mouth to protest.

"Wait, you're right Espo finished the ice earlier," Castle looks around the room and spots his own drinking glass with ice remnants in it, "Ahaa!"

"I'm fine, rea- ...aaaouch, it's cold!" she protests at first, but closes her eyes against to the cold sensation and exhales the last of her words, which eventually fade into a whisper. The glass has an almost burning effect against her warm skin, cool side rolling softly over the bruise.

His face softens as he observes her, "I'm sorry."

Kate puts on a wary smile and tries to relax under his touch. "No need to be sorry, Castle. I was just so eager to get back to playing. Couldn't miss the opportunity to kick your butt."

"Hey, I was winning! I had good cards."

Kate snorts despite the growing awareness of the hand on her knee. It has always been like this. Hot and cold simultaneously between them. The closeness and the back and forth. The banter, the words...

She hears a soft muffled grin next to her. Well, senses it rather, because her eyes are still closed.

"What?"

He watches her eyelashes flutter and open heavily. Her eyes are like dark orbs dipped in gold, soft and warm, and Castle can't deny the honesty beaming back at him: she wants to run but also challenge him. That's just... like her.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Kate's eyebrow rises inquisitively.

"For this," he explains, the rolling glass that is still in his hand, "For letting me take care of you."

A look in his eyes is gentle and it pours straight into her. In the spur of the moment, she reaches out and almost warily slides her fingertips over his chin, just for a briefest moment. But catching herself, she quickly pulls back and her fingers start to play with the hem of her shorts.

When Kate raises her glance again, she circles her hands around his left arm and hugs it gently.

"That's what we do, right? Take care of each other," she murmurs softly.

Now is Castle's turn to look down at the woman sitting next to him. Their embrace is tentative, almost hesitating, but the comforting closeness is undeniable. His breathing gets just slightly shallower when taking in their whole position. Breathing her in. Her scent. Softness.

Kate feels his arm muscles playing under the fabric of his shirt and she wonders what would happen if she played with his muscle cords the same way he was caressing the back of her knee a few moments ago. The music they would create together...

She clears her throat.

"It's... getting warm..." she whispers.

"Uh?"

"The glass. It's lost its cold bite."

Castle frowns, "Are you sure? It's not... I'm not - I don't want to let go of you yet..."

The smile on his face is sad and apologetic, voice quiet, although it is nothing like he feels. He searches for refuge from the storm in his soul. Not yet? Not... yet? Still? When? Castle watches helplessly as Kate is gasping for air and closing her eyes again. Stupid man!

"Don't say that," Kate says quietly. It feels like the woman just read his mind and it was Castle's turn to halt.

She nuzzles her nose against his shoulder, taking in his scent. Familiar. Appealing. Thick with restrictions and alertness that she has planted in her mind, to everything that she associates with him. It is... was for their own good. Four years have passed. Four years. And now she is so close.

So she nuzzles his shoulder, letting her cheek slide against the strong muscles... Almost there...

"Don't say that because I just... might not go," she mumbles against him.

"So, you are saying that if I put down that glass, you won't pull back?"

His grip tightens around the object the same way his throat seems to be squeezed into a too thin straw, not letting the air flow freely enough. He brings his face closer to his shoulder, to be closer to her, to look at her face. To see the thoughts in her eyes.

She moves her leg slightly against his thigh and Castle takes in the sweet agony of the weight of her limb on his.

"No. I guess not."

"But?"

He can feel the moist breath under his chin. She is closer now and Kate becomes very aware of her thigh on his thigh, their heat radiating into each other, her burning stomach.

The fire that intensifies the senses, awakes them. Teases.

"Maybe there's no but," he feels a bite of her lip hidden against his shoulder. "Maybe I don't want to go."

A hot wave flushes over him, bringing both hope and disbelief with it.

"Alright."

He reaches to the table and puts the glass down, deliberately trapping her leg under his torso and not letting go of it with his left hand. As he slowly leans backwards again, he lets his fingers slide over her calf, up to her knee, tracing the hollows on his path. God, it is smooth.

"Please..." she whispers and tilts her head upwards, closing her eyes again. She feels him replace his left hand with his right on her leg and left arm slide over her back. Castle scoots her closer, angling her towards him. Their embrace feels steady, firm, leaving her without any escape route.

All the air whooshes out of her and her spinning head makes Kate taste anticipation on her tongue. She is frozen, rigid against him with a half-smile plastered on her face. Castle feels almost sorry for her. Almost.

"What... do you want?"

Their chests meet with every intake of air, slight touching and agonizingly slow...

"Kate, look at me," he whispers, his voice low, full of passion.

He lets go of her knee and watches his own hand trace the side of the woman in front of him. She doesn't move, so his touch grows bolder and moves upwards inch by inch adding constant pressure. Over the hip. Over the waist. Between the breasts where her chest is visibly rising and falling until he reaches to her chin.

He feels her shiver and realises that the rigidness that was summoned initially from fear is growing into something as much feral but also... carnal. Even with her eyes closed he can see the seriousness of lust molding the edges of her mouth, corners of her eyebrows. Her lips part just a bit and Castle inadvertently lets out a moan.

"Woman, do you have any idea what are you doing to me? With your existence? What are you doing to me... right now?"

He moves his mouth to her ear to whisper into it silent affections and ever growing pants. Feeling his late night stubble on her cheek leaves no question into Kate's mind anymore. Everything is clear now. She hums in approval and welcomes the sensations.

Lifting one hand to her shoulder, the other finds its way between the couch and their waists. The movement makes him pull her flush against him. Chest against chest, hearts swollen from the adrenaline, beating in unison and stammering frantically against their ribcages.

"Kate? I want to kiss you," his breath is hot in her ear as his lips play with her hair.

Kate tightens her grip around him and as an answer, he weaves his hands into her hair and he pulls her slightly away from him in a demanding movement.

"Look at me."

Plea is now gone, leaving him exposed with his feelings, rawness and desperation chopping words.

Kate's eyes snap open and he swallows heavily.

Turmoil.

There is nothing but burning turmoil brewing in them. Between them.

She squeezes his thigh between her legs, and it sends overflowing sensations to his brain, his heart, his stomach making his pulse frantic. Makes him frantic. All he needs is her.

"What I do to you?"

Well? Did *you* feel it?