Title: Before Midnight

Author: mindy35

Rating: T, incidental sexiness

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.

Spoilers: minor, "Flowers for Your Grave", "Secret Santa".

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Summary: Post-ep for "Secret Santa". Castle comes up with a last minute present for Kate.

-x-x-x-

She woke to him kissing her – her brow, her cheek, the corner of her mouth – and whispering:

"Kate…? Kate, wake up. Wake up, Kate."

She frowned and burrowed deeper into her pillow. "Mmm, no…"

Castle ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it back from her face, his kisses becoming more insistent. "Come on, Katie…open those gorgeous green eyes for me..."

"Noooo, Castle, no more sex," she grumbled, holding on tight to her pillow and precious sleep, "you wore me out, okay? I give…"

"I don't want sex," he began to say before pausing and changing course: "well…that's never gonna be strictly accurate—"

"What did I tell you last night?" Beckett muttered, eyes half opening and glaring up at him.

Castle sat back on his heels on the bed. "That five orgasms is your limit."

"Right. After which, a girl needs some downtime."

"But—"

"And how many have you already given me tonight?" she demanded, weakly thumping her pillow.

"I stopped counting after four." Castle adjusted his scalp with his fingertips, giving a little wince. "Probably due to all the hair-pulling."

"Well, exactly…" She flopped onto her other side and back into her pillow. "I'm exhausted from all the hair-pulling, Castle, so just lemme sleep."

"But Kate…Kate," He scooted closer to her turned back, planting a trail of kisses up her arm while murmuring, his voice low and eager, "I don't want to give you orgasms, I want to give you a present."

Beckett was still a moment. Then she turned, peering over her shoulder at him, eyes now open and interested. "…A present?"

"Yeah," he breathed like an excited child who wanted to sneak downstairs to catch Santa in the act. "And it's nearly midnight so you have to wake up and open it now while it's still Christmas Eve."

She cast a glance at the bedside clock that showed it to be only a few minutes before midnight then turned her gaze back on him with a wary pout. "You said you didn't get me anything."

"I didn't," he replied, eyes sparkling in the boyish way they did whenever he had a secret. A really, really good secret. "But then I thought of something – after giving you those five-plus orgasms. Believe it or not, that's when I get some of my best ideas."

"I dunno, Castle…" She rolled onto her back, one floppy hand lifting to conceal a yawn. "This does not sound promising. I don't want a drugstore present."

"It's not a drugstore present," he said, shooting her a dubious look. "Do you really think I would stoop so low as to gift you something from a random drugstore?"

"No. But…" Beckett took a breath and released it, her hand falling to his knee and beginning to doddle on his red and white striped pyjama bottoms, "maybe we were right before, you know? Not to do presents this year, it eases the whole first-time pressure."

Castle opened his mouth to argue then at the last moment seemed to reconsider. "Okay," he agreed, nodding once. "If that's how you feel. Just go on back to sleep and we'll forget all about it." He kissed her cheek, "Night," then lay down with his back to her, reaching for the bedside lamp.

Beckett levered up onto her elbows, staring over at him. "Well, wait, I mean…I'm awake now. You woke me up so..."

"No-no, you're right, Kate." Castle turned out the lamp, leaving the bedroom bathed in the glow from the tiny lights twinkling tranquilly in his office. "Who needs presents at Christmas?" he mused, settling on his back with a contented sigh and drawing the covers up to his chest. "That's not what it's about, right? It's about family and tradition and good will to all men and—"

"Clock's ticking, Castle." Beckett sat up, not buying his little act for a second. "Just gimme the damn gift."

"That's not a very Christmassy way of asking," he remarked, blinking up at her, hands folded neatly on the bedcovers. "Christmas is also about gratitude and—"

"Fine." She rolled her eyes, blew a big breath out between her lips. "Can I please have my present now?"

"My darling Ricky," he insisted, suppressing a smirk.

"You're kidding me," she deadpanned.

Castle shrugged. "Clock's ticking…"

Beckett's lips pursed in both annoyance and amusement. She shook her head at him then reluctantly relented, asking in a dry, begrudging tone, "Can you please give me my Christmas present…my…darling…Ricky?"

Castle snorted at the discomfort hanging off her last few words then sat up, throwing off the covers. "'Kay!" He switched the lamp back on then leant over the side of the bed, retrieving something heavy and placing it on the bed. He gave a little oof and the gift gave a covert clang. "Ready?" he asked, pausing for dramatic effect before whipping off the red cloth covering it with a hopeful flourish. "This…is for you."

Beckett drew closer, her face losing its reluctance, her eyes losing their sarcasm. She reached out, running careful fingers over the round, worn keys, the long, brass handle and shiny, jet-black frame. Lips parted with half a dozen questions, she looked up at him for answers.

"It's my first typewriter," Castle murmured, smiling as he watched her reaction.

"Oh…" Beckett nodded and returned to examining her present.

"Shortly before I met you," he went on, eyes following her fingers as they investigated his gift, "I was experiencing the worst bout of writer's block I'd ever suffered. And I nearly never suffer writer's block so this was unusual. Then I had this stroke of genius—" Castle budged in behind her, crossing his legs and drawing her back onto his lap. "I thought I would buy one of these babies and kick it old school. You know, get back to the basics of writing." He gave the typewriter a wistful pat then wrapped both arms around her waist. "It…did not work out great. I wrote one chapter on this old thing before I realized my compulsion to go back and edit would be severely stunted. But I did develop quite an appreciation for antique typewriters." He tucked some hair behind her ear so he could see her face, voice lowering as he added, "I have five now but this one is very rare and still my favorite. And look—" he pointed to the little brass plaque on its chest, "it was built the year your dad was born."

Beckett gave a small smile, her head bobbing slowly.

"So?" he asked softly, eyes returning to her face. "What do you think?"

She palmed his face, gaze still fixed on her gift. "I love it, Castle."

He squeezed her middle, brows lifting. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she breathed, bumping his head gently with hers.

He dropped a kiss on her shoulder, then whispered, "Scroll down."

Beckett glanced back at him and Castle nodded at the piece of paper that sat suspended in the reel of the typewriter. She reached for the scalloped knob on the right side and twisted it, feeling the old typewriter remember how to do its job. The paper crept upwards on the reel and her Christmas message slowly appeared:

I adore you.

Always, RC.

A slow smile swelled out of her chest and onto her face. Behind her, Castle was silent.

"I was going to write twelve things I love about you," he said eventually, a touch of apprehension in his tone, "you know, like the twelve days of Christmas? But…"

"Couldn't think of that many?" she asked, sliding her hands over the arms wrapped about her waist.

"Couldn't limit it to that few." He shrugged and kissed her shoulder again, this time more lingeringly. "And sometimes, less is more."

She turned to look at him, lifting one hand to stroke his jaw. "Thank you."

Castle smiled, capturing her hand and weaving his fingers with hers. "So how'd I do? On the inaugural Christmas present?"

"Brilliantly," she admitted with a slightly overwhelmed sigh. "Although you've now raised the bar really high for year two."

"I'm not worried," he mused, eyeing the typewriter thoughtfully. "If I can come up with this at such short notice, imagine what I can do with three-hundred and sixty-five days and nights to think about it."

"Well…" she withdrew, turning to face him before sliding back into his lap, "you can cross off the rest of this night."

Castle's mouth lifted in one corner. "Thought you said you'd had enough."

She kissed him, deep and slow, while pressing him back on the bed. "Looks like I spoke too soon."

"You do do that sometimes," he mused, hands travelling up her body, over and under the t-shirt she'd borrowed to sleep in. "It's one of the twelve-plus things I love about you."

"Hm. You should write that one down."

"Then I should also write down how much I love you in my shirts."

"But not now."

"No. Not now."

"Cos after all," she continued, kissing her way down his jaw to his neck, her hands caressing his warm, naked chest, "I might have reached my limit but you've only come twice tonight." She pulled back to look at him, letting her hips settle snugly over his. "Let's try and even the score, huh?"

He watched her sit up and rid herself of the oversized t-shirt she'd adopted as pyjamas then tuck her hair behind both ears and lower her lips to his chest. She rocked her hips against his at a leisurely pace, the ends of her hair tickling his skin as she kissed him, as she pressed his hands to her body and let them explore.

Castle moaned her name deep in his throat. "Having you in my bed is like….all my Christmases coming at once."

She smiled against his skin, slithering lower and letting her teeth graze his stomach. "D'you write puns like that on that fancy old typewriter, Mr Castle?"

"I did," he answered, body beginning to heave with gathering arousal. "That one…right there." He lifted his head to look down at her. "Feel privileged?"

Beckett gave an appraising hum, glancing up at him with wicked green eyes. "No wonder you had to go back and edit."

"Ooo, just for that," he rose swiftly, eyes flashing with mock rage, "I'm giving you five more orgasms—" then he grasped her upper arms and threw her on her back on the bed.

Beckett squealed in surprise and huffed a few nos! and Castle, I cants! as his body covered hers, renewing his seduction from earlier. She giggled as she battled his advances, attempting to squirm out from under him. But Castle pinned her flailing limbs with confidence, knowing that if Kate Beckett was truly unwilling he'd have been on his butt on the floor before he knew what hit him. After a brief struggle, her body gave, slumping tiredly against the sheets as she attempted not to look like she was having as much fun as she clearly was.

"Is this up for negotiation?" she puffed, cheeks flushed and breasts jiggling with laughter.

Castle narrowed his eyes and pretended to consider. "I don't know, I think after that brilliant gift I deserve an orgasm or two, don't you?"

"I agree," she purred, squirrelling a foot out from under him and running it up the inside of his thigh. "That's exactly what I was trying to give you."

"Of yours," he clarified, leaning down to kiss her once but getting lured by her response into kissing her a second, third and fourth time. "Of yours, my love…"

Beckett hummed hungrily against his lips and asked between kisses, "How about…we each give each other…one…and call it a night?"

He pulled back, letting his eyes scan her face and his grip on her wrists loosen. "One really, really good one?"

"When are they anything but, with you and me?"

"Can't argue with that."

"So then…" she bit her lower lip, her foot lazily caressing his inner thigh, "we have a deal?"

Releasing her, he wrapped one hand low about her body and sunk the other into her fanned, dishevelled hair. "Deal. But let's not shake on it. Let's just…do this…" Castle grinned as he bent and Beckett rose, meeting him halfway with an open, ready mouth and a passion equal to his own.

END.