WARNING: Rated M.

Fantasy Fridays
Chapter Twenty-Four: Laser Tag

The lights are pulsing; bright, thin lines that shoot down the dark corridor and mess with Castle's equilibrium. He'd been looking for a good home-base, but this will definitely not do. He makes it to the end of the hallway without getting cornered and steps back into the arena.

Everything is hyper-vivid; orange splashes on glowing barrels, walls covered with luminescent swirls, fluorescent gridlines on the floor.

Castle's heart thuds right along with the music, some epic movie-style battle theme that he can't quite place, mixed with the electric hum of sizzling sound effects. It's loud. So loud he can't hear his own panting breath as he presses himself up against the wall to peek out from around a corner.

He's supposed to meet up with Kate, but they've been in for three minutes already and there's no sign of her. Where the heck is s-

Oh.

There she is.

He almost gets seen by one of their enemies because he's got his head stuck out in the open like a chicken, but he wants to watch her work. His partner, his muse. He watches as she stalks along a wall, strafes across a gap with her laser gun held steady, an unyielding confidence in her silent, catlike walk.

She spots a member of the green team - the group of athletic college freshmen - and takes him down without mercy. The lights on the guy's vest flash like crazy and he laughs as he runs away to hide and wait for his gun to recharge. Castle ducks into a little cove with a few portals so he can continue to spy on his fiancé. Kate follows a trail of laser beams coming from one of the upper levels. One of the crazy bachelorettes from Georgia on the blue team has made her way to the central tower and is sniping people. Kate hides behind a barrel to conceal her own vest, and takes aim. One shot and the sniper is disabled.

Kate comes towards Castle's hideout, gun braced, clearly looking for some more people to take down. If she wasn't so seriously sexy, she'd be downright frightening. And she's very, very good at laser tag. Castle had been skeptical about just the two of them going up against both groups (the college guys and the bachelorettes), but they already won the first round out of three.

Earlier, they'd been a team of four, and between his cop and his seasoned laser tag veteran daughter, it had been a piece of cake. He'd pulled his weight, and the fourth member of their team was surprisingly good for being a first timer. Not Pi, thank goodness. Apparently the fluorescent lights unbalance his chi or something. Instead, Alexis had brought her friend Drake, a kid she's known since elementary. Kate had to pinch Castle to tell him to stop being so obvious about trying to get his daughter to alter her choice in boyfriends. But Drake's so awesome, Castle had whined.

"It's not there, Castle," she'd explained gently.

"What's not there?"

"Chemistry. This," she'd said, gesturing between them. "Not even a fraction. So stop trying to push it and just enjoy yourself, okay?"

He scowls to himself and tries to shake off the ever-growing resentment he feels towards his daughter's boyfriend. Just as he gets it under control again, Kate passes the doorway of his little hut. Castle gathers himself to jump out and startle her from behind, but she pauses, turns. As if she's sensed someone. She blasts into the tiny room, finger on the trigger, and corners him.

"Whoa, whoa, it's just me! Don't shoot!" he squeaks.

"If I was going to shoot, I'd have done it already," she says, lowering her weapon. "I do know how to assess a target, unlike some people, Mr. Friendly Fire."

"Hey, I thought you were back at base that time," he complains. Not his fault he shot her and made them nearly lose the round.

"Have you taken anyone down yet?" she asks.

"Two - no, three people. All green team, I think."

"Good. We need to go after blue a bit more." Kate studies the cove, without taking her eyes or her laser gun away from the slim opening. "This place isn't bad, Castle. Maybe the best base yet."

He doesn't respond, because he hasn't really been listening. He's been looking… doing a lot of looking, yep. Those tight black jeans, licking their way over his partner's calves, the heeled boots that are somehow both towering and scarily silent. The high ponytail that says she means business. The perky breasts - okay he can't really see the perky breasts because they're hidden under the laser tag gear - but he knows they're perky - and that's besides the point - the point is that he's been watching her kick ass and take names and it's almost as good as watching her at work. Maybe better, because he's not going to feel bad about what he's about to do. He's not allowed to screw around on the job, wouldn't dream of it, but here? Why not.

She jumps when he slides his palm over her ass and squeezes. A perfect, warm handful of denim and toned woman.

"What the - "

He pulls her back into the shadows, and she doesn't resist when he turns her and backs her up against the wall.

Her lips are warm and familiar when he leans in to press a hard kiss to them.

"What was that for?" She's trying to sound indignant, but he can see the smile tugging at her mouth.

"You're so awesome, you know that? I love this." He means the laser tag, but it's too loud, too chaotic in here to tell her the true depth of his feelings. How grateful he is to have her. At last. And how delighted he is that she'll do this for him. Not only do it for him, enjoy it as much as he is.

"Oh, and you're smoking hot," he adds.

She rolls her eyes. It just makes him want to come back for more.

"You read the rules, didn't you? No petting," she scolds, but obviously her body is in disagreement because she hooks a finger in his belt loop and pulls him closer. Their plastic vests knock together, a strange barrier between their chests that makes him miss the comfortable give of her curves.

"I'm not petting."

She raises an eyebrow as his open palm travels from her hip up to the side of her breast. "Oh really?"

"Okay, maybe I'm petting a little bit. You just looked so…ferocious out there."

This time, her mouth is active and hot when his comes down, and she threads her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer yet. God, she's wonderful. Sometimes it grips at his heart, the knowledge of what they'd so many times come close to missing.

He nudges his shoe against her boot, and even though he uses the trick all the time, she hasn't caught on to how she always subconsciously widens her stance for him, lets him kick her legs apart. He props her up against the wall by the pressure of his hips as he takes her mouth again.

He loves her like this - when she's just a tiny bit reluctant, a tiny bit worried about the rules, about getting caught. When her cheeks are flushed because she's at war with herself. She grinds on him, moans, then seems to remember that she's supposed to be resisting.

"Stop it - oh, fuck, Castle - you've got to stop," she hisses. "You do know there are cameras in here."

"You're a cop. I know you looked at the monitors behind the guy when we were signing in. Tell me that one of them can see us here and I'll stop."

"I - "

"That's what I thought."

He scratches lightly at the skin he finds between her jeans and her black long-sleeved shirt - and fuck does he love her more for thinking to wear something stealthy. He revels in the way her muscles give little jumps of surprise, and then anticipation. Before he touches her, though, he wants her drenched. So he goes for her weak spot: her neck. He starts with light, brushing kisses, works her up until she's twitching in his arms.

Her skin is warm against the backs of his fingers when he goes exploring, under her jeans, under her panties, finding the thick, soaked heat of her.

Works every time.

"Hold this," Castle says, pressing the handle of his laser gun into her free hand.

"For fuck's sake," she murmurs, but obliges. The cloudy haze of lust in her eyes tells her she's as far gone as he is, that the arena has melted away and that it's just them again, just them and the bass-heavy music. Once his hands are free he uses them to drag her jeans down, just enough to expose her, and then his own. Then he hoists her up against the wall, bringing her up, higher up on the wall so that she has room to take the tip of him and slide down. She loops her arms over his shoulders, one of the guns still loosely trained on the door.

He teases her, biceps straining as he holds her, moves her closer to him. Dips into her like a paintbrush, a few times, just to get them both worked up. And then he lowers her, slowly, her shirt scrunching up as she slides down the wall and onto him.

She's home, and heat, and everything he's ever wanted, and she's making yet another one of his teenage fantasies come true.

They're not strangers to up-against-the-wall sex, but usually it's when she's wearing a skirt, or nothing at all, in the comfort of their own him. She can't wrap her legs around him, but when the tips of her toes touch the floor and he's all the way inside, the angle is new, makes him feel huge, and he knows with every roll of his hips he's rubbing his entire length right over her clit.

She holds on tight, as tight as she can for all of the trembling shudders rolling through her body, and he plunges into her, building the friction like kindling a fire, until he's humming on the edge, ready to go over whenever she goes.

Suddenly, the thunder of footsteps passes. Close. Too close. Castle tenses, freezes. Panic ices though him, oh shit, oh shit, she's going to get fired, the newspapers are going to -

"Don't stop, dammit," Kate breathes, barely able to get the words out around the pleasure that's lapping at her.

It snaps him out of his head for long enough to realize that it was just people passing on the second level, right over their heads, and that no one's seen them yet.

Kate catches his stunned mouth, draws him back into the moment with her kiss until he's moving inside her again. With every thrust, her feet hover just off the floor, and he can hear the rhythmic knock of her boots but it blends into the music and the crescendo of pleasure in his own body until everything becomes a watercolor painting. Everything except the tight pleasure building where they're joined.

"Don't stop," she repeats, softer, and it's the immense love for this woman that gives him the supernatural grace that he sometimes gets right near the end, the perfect rhythm that always draws her with him.

Just as she starts to come, another group passes overhead, and somewhere in the midst of plunging after her, he has the presence of mind to press his thumb over her lips, watches wild-eyed as she draws it into her mouth and sucks on it, even as her body clamps around him, dragging him into a swirl of ecstasy.

Even with their little interlude, they manage to win the round.

Well, friends, if you can believe it, my well of smut is on the verge of running dry. When I started this story I had most of my ideas lined up, and that list has dwindled as we've gone along. There are three ideas left on the list, so there will be three more chapters. I won't mark the story as complete, though, because it's definitely something that I can add to if a lightning bolt of lovey-dovey, sexy inspiration strikes me. And with Season 8 looming on the horizon, I'm sure something is bound to light a spark!

I wish I could send gratitude out to all you wonderful people who have read, favorited, followed, and reviewed in the form of chocolate or wine, but I don't have enough money! :)

I can't believe the story has reached so many - the numbers are truly baffling. Over 150,000 views, which just blows my mind. And the word count is now over 60,000, so that's insane as well. If only I could apply my writing skills to writing 60,000 words of a real book…

Anyway, I'd be so happy if you stuck around for the last three chapters. If you haven't hit the follow or favorite button yet, I'd really appreciate it if you do, just to see how many people are tuned in every week! Also so you don't miss out on the future bonus chapters, whenever Rick and Kate inspire me to write them ;)

Lots of love,

Bri x

ADDITIONAL A/N as of October 14, 2015:

I never anticipated this break from writing to be so long, and I want to apologize to the people who have been waiting patiently for more Fantasy Fridays. Every week I yearn for the inspiration to write, to recapture the focus needed to do so, and every week I fail. Time stretches on and I'm getting further and further away from the fandom and from my obsession with this wonderful show (nothing to do with S8; I love me a bit of angst!). Last week for the first time, I got a miraculous morning where my extraordinary, sparkling toddler was playing nicely by herself for an hour, and I felt my thoughts begin to clear, felt my passions begin to stir. But inevitably, before I could do anything productive with them, they were shut down by her little voice calling for me (aka not so politely telling me to stop playing with my computer). The good news: there WILL be more fanfic from me. The bad news: it's going to have to wait until January, when my daughter starts nursery school and I have three hours a day to do whatever I want. I'm very grateful for your patience so far, and can't wait to return in January. :) xoxo