So. It's been a while since I wrote anything here, and even longer since I wrote for Castle. High school can be time-consuming – who knew? At any rate, I can't resist these twenty-five sentence prompts, so when I was challenged to do one I had to step up. And this was the result.

Most of them should be decently clear, or at least I hope so. I did my best on that, but I'm pretty rusty. (Edit: Though, as I should have mentioned to begin with, some of them are products of my own creation, and not based off of any scene in the actual show) Spoilers for, well, everything.

#1 - Breathe – there is always that flinch when he follows rebelliously after her into the storm, that hitch of breath that lodges in her throat when he inevitably ends up with a gun trained on him; she hates the wash of relief that follows when he's safe and she can breathe again.

#2 - Question – he is always, always full of questions – asking this and that when he's along on the job, and supplementing her curt answers with trivia pieces she neither needed nor wanted to know; she's more than a bit frustrated when she catches herself absently reciting one of these facts back to Ryan at the precinct a month or two after's Castle's departure, and even more annoyed at the slight knife-twist of an old ache that settles deep in her chest.

#3 - Trust – the gun jammed against his lower back hurts and the breath of the killer brushing his ear with a snarled threat sends fear drizzling like melted ice down his spine, but the fog of panic doesn't settle as a thin haze over him as he expected; Beckett is there, and he knows with grounding certainty that Beckett won't let anything happen to him.

#4 - Frown – her brows furrows when she frowns, when she's thinking, when she's lost herself in some desperate case – Castle is surprised to discover that he has memorized every line and every curve of this expression, down to the way her lips press together and her eyes tighten a bit around the corners; this realization scares him.

#5 - Constant – he brings her coffee every morning, like clockwork – a cup placed behind her keyboard and just off to the side of her right hand, always in the same place; she accepts this, because it is a constant, and she likes constants, and there is almost nothing about Richard Castle that is constant in the least.

#6 - Grin – his grin is just a little bit crooked at the corners (though she tells herself she shouldn't notice this), and more than a little bit grating in that it always shows up at the wrong times (though she tells herself she doesn't care), and brings to life the mischief always poised and ready just behind his eyes (though she tells herself this is irrelevant) – when he leaves for the Hamptons she can still almost see that flash of smile when she's alone at the precinct, a tinge of fire-bright lightness in the bleakest stretch of her day (before it dissolves in paperwork and duty and the crushing weight of her own denial).

#7 - Yell – he does something stupid and puts himself in danger (again), and in the wake of the whirlwind she drags him off to the side and lays into him, just as he'd expected; what he didn't anticipate was the breath of warm relief buried beneath flashing anger in her countenance, and the almost-tremor in her voice when she tells him not to ever do that again.

#8 - Shatter – the apartment goes up in flames and the sky turns the color of death, an explosion ringing in his ears as he turns away from shattering glass; all he can feel are the curling edges of grief and horror and disbelief and pain setting his chest ablaze.

#9 - Kid – sometimes he reminds her more than anything of a little boy, or maybe an overgrown puppy – bumbling along behind her, enthusiastic and eager and always right there, underfoot, drinking in the world she lives in every day with astonishment that might have been endearing if it wasn't so exasperating.

#10 - Anchor – Beckett hasn't cried in years, but hunched over the man she just killed – the man responsible for the death of her mother and the man who could give her answers – her vision goes blurry and her world turns gray in the dying twilight; in the midst of it all she feels Castle's hand close over her shoulder, warm and light and an anchor in the rolling storm.

#11 - Antagonize – he prods at her limits because it amuses him, and dances along the paper-thin lines of her boundaries because he loves the game; when she compares it to 'pulling her pigtails', he has to ruefully admit that she's probably right about that.

#12 – Cherries – she's right there, eyes locked with his and breath caught, and he is caught in the staggering grip of the moment; "You smell like cherries," he says with wonderment, because he can't think of anything else to say, and because she does.

#13 – Bright – she's seen hundreds of cases (and she's sure she'll see hundreds more) but there is always that little sting in her chest that is all too familiar when she gets another; she'd never admit it, but having Castle around to take the weight from her job is more help than he'd ever know.

#14 – Dinner – a disastrous date and an exotic murder case – when it all comes screeching to a halt there is something remarkably comfortable about going to grab dinner at Remy's with Castle, and the hard edges of their partnership are blurred by conversation as the night pulls toward dawn.

#15 – Treasure – they go on a treasure hunt, and they find the treasure; but then Castle also finds that the sparkling gems mean so much less after Beckett flings her arms around him in a triumphant hug.

#16 – Hurt – he knows he shouldn't have looked into her mom's case – he knows that, but he did it anyway, and it hurts him to know that he hurt her; he tells himself he was only trying to help, and then he wonders who it was he was helping.

#17 – Partner – it's a terrifying thing, when she begins to think of him as a partner rather than simply a nuisance she has to drag around; they work together so well, her rationality meshing with his over-abundant imagination, and where the two meet the truth is almost always uncovered.

#18 - Wit – Castle is used to getting the upper hand in a battle of words, a witty line always at the ready behind his twist of a grin; before Beckett he'd never met anyone who could so easily counter his natural wit, and the game (with a partner evenly matched) is what makes it all the more fun.

#19 – Pride – there is a difficult case and she clinches it, almost all on her own, and when Castle watches her lead the guy off in handcuffs he feels proud – proud of her, because it matters, and his eyes get soft and his mouth tilts into a genuine smile as dusk fades to starless night.

#20 – Fan – he knows she's a fan, even if she denies it adamantly; he tries not to bring it up too often (she carries a gun, after all), but he's more pleased than he should be that she enjoys his work.

#21 – Coffee – he's back, and things are different now, the aftermath of a storm that blacked out the sky – but their first day of this new case he sets a cup of coffee on her desk (behind her keyboard, just off to the side of her right hand); what he doesn't say is I missed you and what she doesn't say is welcome back but she's pretty sure they both understand clearly.

#22 – Scrape – "I scraped my arm," he whines after a difficult arrest (he was supposed to stay in the car), holding out the wounded limb for her to examine, and she rolls her eyes and asks him if he needs a Band-Aid – he retorts that a kiss would be much more effective (she volunteers Ryan for the job).

#23 – Miss – she missed her chance and he missed his, the narrow window of glittering opportunity slammed shut by their own stubbornness, but this does nothing to loosen the choking disappointment that follows.

#24 - Shift – there is always, always that shifting; puzzle pieces turning this way and that and broken shards of something that once was trying to find their place, and sometimes the two grate at the corners and sometimes the sharp edges are just too sharp and one of them can't take it any longer – but in the end they go right back to trying again, casting aside reasoning that insists they are just not compatible.

#25 - Catch – she falls and he catches her; he falls and she catches him – this is the order of things, and at the end of the day they are both shocked to find just how even they are.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Reviews would still be nice, though.