Inside Out

Well, I started this bit post CountDown, but really it spoils Knockdown. It's my first Castle fanfic. What got me thinking about it was Beckett. Beckett seems quite good at playing a bad girl...


She glances at the empty chair across from her. He'd just left to make her favorite coffee, because he said from look in her eyes he could tell it was "a two cup kind of morning." Kate loves knowing he watches her - even when he is truly annoying - which isn't as often as he thinks, at least not anymore.

A quick, knowing grin lights up her face as she remembers that night undercover: his eyes on her ass at the club, how she couldn't resist teasing him with a bit more sway in her hips, knowing he'd be frozen and staring when she turned around. No, sometimes she doesn't mind his presence at all.

Once, she had mentioned to him that she'd had a wild phase, but hadn't gone into detail because Castle would have locked Alexis in her room and thrown away the key. The depth of her "wild" phase, was nothing like wanting to become a cheerleader. Truth is, before her mother was murdered, Katherine Beckett was known as a girl who liked to party and play, and while illict drugs never entered her system, illict sex had been a staple. Her rules were simple, if he's single he's free to mingle. Not that taken guys hadn't caught her eye, but a man flirting with her while his date was in the ladies room had always made her nauseous.

She hadn't been thinking of love and romance then, and there is still that part of her inside, the part that knew she was hot and that sex was power. She'd thought that part of her had been dead and buried with her mom - until Castle walked into her life.

"You have no idea" she'd whispered to him, using a voice that has made guys beg for more, a voice she hadn't used in a long, long, time.

Maybe it was the modeling. It hadn't been a plan of hers, but when it was suggested to her, she thought the extra cash would be nice. It would be nice to have her own money and not depend on her parents. She'd always had that independent streak. While modeling made many women extra body conscious, something about the impersonalness of it - being striped naked in front of groups of people, being measured, taped, dressed, and then thrown out on a runway to entice and enchant buyers - made her more aware of her body as just an object, one that could be manipulated to create various feelings and emotions - regardless of what she really felt.
There was a rush with that. Modeling had taught her to accept her
sensuality.

After her mom was killed, a few months after withdrawning into the darkness, she'd gotten more reckless. She watched her dad drink to numb the pain and was furious with him. Mom had been so alive, full of life and fun. She started going out at night, seeing how far she could get a guy to go without taking her home. Up against a wall, hands groping, daring the guy to make her come, taunting him that he couldn't hold out as she stroked him off. She'd been taking her life in her hands, telling herself she was trying to feel alive...

Only when it came to her to become a cop had the voracious need to fill the emptiness subsided. She'd become calmer, a woman of cool control. She is now more of the woman her mom would have expected. Sure, she wasn't an English professor, finishing up a Ph'd specializing in Russian prose, but her career was respectable, honorable, and she was one of the best in her field. Now, her sense of power in the world comes from figuring out who the killer is, bringing the perp down, bringing them in, and breaking them to tell the truth. She has no need or desire to manipulate men in her sex life. She wants more than just sex. She wants the kind of love she'd seen with her parents. She wants, "one and done." She just never thought that her "one and done" would make her feel so...wild.

Long before the aroma of her favorite coffee reaches her, she feels his eyes stroke her hair and caress her back. It is tempting to lift her hair off her neck, just for a moment, just to feel the heat of his imagination as he pictures his lips against her nape. The thought makes her smile with amusement and affection. His feelings about her are so transparent, and yet he is careful to try and not cross the line into something she isn't ready for.

Isn't ready for? When had that become her thoughts about him? For that matter, when had she started considering that Castle might be her, "one and done"?

"Here you go, Beckett, my insurance against being shot today."

Kate smiles slyly as she takes the offered drink, letting her eyebrows raise as she sips. Damn, it's so good! She darts her tougue out to lick a bit of foam off her lip and watches his bright blue eyes darken. For a moment she lets her hazel eyes hold his, lets herself enjoy the heat building between them. Then she looks down and away.

"Shot, yes, but don't think your ears are safe."

Castle smirks as his eyebrows raise, "I like to think none of my person is safe around you, detective."

Internally, Kate rolls her eyes, but she lets her gaze briefly rake over his body. You're right Castle." She stands up so she's in his space, her chest nearly brushing his, and whispers, "I'll take you anytime I want,"

Castle's eyes narrow and his jaw drops. Kate laughs, and walks away from him, "God, you're easy."

"Only for you, Kate,"

Kate. She was glad he couldn't see her face. There had been no tease in his voice, and more that not wanting to see the sincerity of his contenence, she couldn't afford to have him see the blush his words brought to her cheeks, nor the softness in her eyes as her heart glowed. Sighing to herself, she wonders how much longer she can pretend what's going on is just a fun flirtation. When she's going to have to admit to him what he's doing to her heart.

She never wears pink, yet here she was in deep dusty rose, satin and lace. Richard Castle, gorgeous in his black tudexo, is staring at her slack jawed. The satin clings to her every curve, the lace inset rising like a "v" from the bottom of her torso to the under-sides of her breasts. It is one of sexiest items of lingerie she's ever worn. Biting her lip for a moment, she smiles gently.

"It's ok, Rick. You can touch me.

She watches the sea blue of eyes turn to deep ocean, his gaze traitorously dropping from her eyes, to her lips, to her satin and lace covered breasts. Yet, he doesn't move, so she steps towards him. One hand reaching out for his while the other reaches up to caress the solid curve of his shoulder.

"I need you to touch me."

She steps in closer and runs her fingertips down his arm, feels the trembling in his body; steps in again so that the heat from their bodies intermingle, careful not to brush against the tenting in the pants. Not yet. She takes his hand and guides it to her waist, whispers in his ear with ernest desire.

"Please, Rick. I need you to."

"Kate."

His voice is rough and heavy as he finally moves. Stepping into her so she can feel just how hard he is, one hand sweeps down to cup her ass while the other pulls out of her hand to slide into her hair. His mouth covers hers and lips burn as his tongue slips inside. She shoves her hips in closer to grind against his erection, and can't help the moan in her throat. Her hand pulls at the waistband of his tux and the the next thing she knows he's in boxers and she can touch him. He's huge, and her fingers can't quite reach all the way around, but it doesn't seem to. curtail his pleasure. His hips thrust forward hard and he groans harshly against her ear.

"Kate."

The moist breath of his voice against her ear almost makes her come. He seems to sense her pleasure, because the next sensation is his tongue tracing the delicate shell. She cries out sharply.

"Uhmm, Castle!

She needs him inside her, naked, skin to skin. Needs this pink satin to be gone, and - GOD! they're in bed and he's stripped her down. She's panting, begging him to enter her - even though she never begs. She makes men beg, but Rick isn't 'men' and he needs to know how much she adores and desires him, how much she loves him.

He slides inside and the world is suddenly pink rose petals everywhere. Moaning aloud, she fleetingly wonders how he manages to arrange such things.

"Kate!"

He pulls out and thrusts inside again roughly, again and again. Rose petals aside, he moves the way she needs him to, like he can't get enough, like fucking her is as necessary as breathing.

"Ohhhhh..." She's close. She's so fucking close.

"KATE!"

He's rocking her body harder now, unthinkingly she angles her hips just a bit differently and when he slams back into her he hits every spot that needs it just so, Her body arches, and stiffens as the tremors take her over. A husky wail pours from her lips as her orgasm goes on and on. The spurts of Rick releasing inside her only extend her pleasure further. As she finally starts to come down she can't help but moan his name.

She blinks open her eyes to meet his baby blues. She smiles dreamily, "God, I love you, Castle."

"The feelings are mutual, Kate"

He reaches down and brushes damp tendrills of hair back from her face.

"Don't shoot me for it."

She smiles, reaching up to play with the buttons on his shirt.

"Why would I..."

The buttons on his shirt. Reality hits her hard as she realizes he is fully dressed - as is she. The breakcouch is warm against her back.

She's been asleep in the breakroom....dreaming of making love to Richard Castle...and he'd been watching. For how long, she didn't know. Long enough. Her body is still buzzing and she knows her body experienced the orgasm she'd had in her sleep. If the bulge in his pants was any indication, he'd definitely seen that.

"I'm not the one who looks loaded and ready, Castle."

Castle chuckles, then groans as the laughter's vibrations create some painful friction.

"I'll save you the trouble of wondering; I am very happy to see you."

The words are teasing, but the tone isn't. His meaning isn't lost on her. He wants her to feel okay that he saw her climax, okay with him knowing that she wants him. Letting her know she's not alone in her feelings.

The mortification is lifting a bit. After all, she's been looking for a way to let him know how she feels about him...

"Pink's the color of love, isn't it?"

"Huh? ...Yeah."

Kate's eyes sparkle from brown to green as she smirks at Rick's obvious confusion at her question.

She sits up on the couch, swinging her legs over to plant them solidly on the floor. She turns to face Rick, and the sense of teasing leaves her for a moment.

"Only you could make me dream in pink, Castle."

Quickly, she brushes a kiss across his lips before bounding off the couch, and out the door.

So...I seem to be doing a series of loosely connected one-shots based on the inner being of one Kate Beckett.... I'm curious to see what she'll be thinking about next!

He'd gone completely still as soon as Lanie turned over the body. Castle going still was impossible not to notice. She, of course, had years of cop training and so her own reaction was hidden. Almost. She'd grabbed his forearm, as if to keep him from moving. Only Castle wasn't - and still isn't - moving.

"Kate."

His whisper is hoarse. Beckett swallows, her own throat dry. She knows better than to look at him. Seeing his shock will trigger her own into visibility.

The girl was maybe nineteen. Large hazel eyes, lifeless, stare ahead in a permanent state of surprise. Her thick brown hair drapes past her shoulders, brushing the curves of her breasts - and the massive blood-stain that discolors the purple blazed "NYU" written across her white vee-neck tee-shirt. Jean-clad legs, long and lean, end in three inch heeled sandals and red painted toes.

She's Kate at nineteen.

The memories flash quickly for Kate. It would have been easy - at nineteen - for her to have ended up dead in Central Park. Easy, with her late night hours and risky ways. True, she'd never brought strangers home, but she'd gone with near strangers: a date or two, and a heavy petting session would be enough to convince her the guy was, "alright."

"Beckett."

Lanie voice brought her back to the present. She avoided Lanie's eyes, not wanting to deal with her knowing concern.

"How old?"

"I'd say no older than twenty."

"Any sign of sexual assault'

"Preliminary examination appears to be...no."

"No?"

Beckett looks sharply at Lanie. They'd already ruled out robbery. The girl's backpack had contained her laptop and a wallet with forty bucks and two credit cards.

Lanie's voice is oddly quiet.

"No. There is no sign of sexual contact. Ever.

It was Ryan who caught it first.

"She's a virgin?"

The words sink in to all of them, and rightly or not, the wrongness of the girl's death increases for Beckett. This was a girl who was playing by the rules, this was a girl who - "

"So this is possibly a hate crime."

All eyes shifted to the giant goof-ball writer.

'What?"

Beckett's voice is flat, almost neutral in her question. Only the flash in her eyes give away her annoyance at having to deal with his antics.
Only Castle...

"How you figure that, Castle?"

Esposito's sincere follow-up question surprises her - as does Castle's straightforward answer.

"She's 20, not dressed like any conservative religious sect, gorgeous,no sexual assault, no previous sexual activity."

Esposito's eyes light up with understanding. Ryan is still puzzled.

"And...I don't -"

Kate rolls her eyes.

" - He's trying to say she could be a lesbian, Ryan."

She sighs. Only Castle would go there so quickly. Yet...

"...and he may have a point."

"Or maybe she's just a good Catholic girl. Come on, Castle, you have a -"

"Don't -"

"Shut up, Ryan."

As the word Ryan is coming out of her mouth, the echo of her and Castle's simultaneous reaction startles them both into looking at each other. For a moment, his gratitude and amusement hold back the darkness...but only for a moment. Kate watches his eyes flash: anger, sadness, fear. She wants shoot Ryan for even bringing the idea of Alexis to the scene. Alexis is an extraordinary young woman.

When Kate first met her she'd been a wise 14 year old, and Kate wondered what vices the girl had hidden. Over time she'd seen them, though not what she'd expected. Kate herself had hated rules at Alexis' age. Alexis saw them for what they were: things to keep her safe. Perhaps, because of her parents, and her grandmother's, outside antics she'd learned playing by the rules was the better way to go. It could also be because she had a dad who played laser tag and watched movies with her at two am. Castle held so few conventions that maybe it made it easier for Alexis to follow the ones he did. At any rate, Kate saw how hard Alexis was on herself for any slight infraction she might make. It seemed ironic that with Castle as a dad Alexis feared making mistakes. It's not like Castle lacked in understanding. It was one of the first things she'd noticed about him, the first thing that started erasing the playboy image tattooed in her mind by the media.

The moment flashes quickly, but it is definitely a moment because when her awareness of the present comes back she has to break her gaze from Castle's. She glances around in time to see Ryan looking at the floor as Esposito smacks him in the back of the head. She catches Lanie looking at her and Castle with her hidden, "when are you two gonna sleep together" smirk.

It's Castle that breaks the silence. He comes back from where ever he'd gone in his mind, and with a sad smile looks down at the girl's body.

"She's some-one's daughter. The rest - 'good girl - bad girl' monikers - they don't raise or lower the bar on deserving to be killed. Nothing does."

Beckett is lost in his eyes again. Every day. Every day he says or does something that just floors her, that reminds her that there is so much more than her sugar-rush kid sidekick. Everyday, the soul of Rick Castle, the man, shines forth to dazzle her and she, like Lanie, wonders why she hasn't already given in completely.

"We will find who killed her, Castle."

Quickly, before her entire cop persona dissolves, she looks away and steps towards Esposito,a plan of action already forming in her mind.

"I know you will."

Kate smiles at his reply, but doesn't turn around.

"What, my partner's bailing on me?"

Castle quickly shuffles over, "No, never. I just meant -"

" - I know what you meant. But we're a team, Castle. "

She lets her eyes sweep over him, then over Esposito and Ryan.

"Right?"

Ryan and Esposito look at each other and look back at Beckett with similar grins, "Yes, boss."

Beckett rolls her eyes, "Fine, go canvas the area. See if anyone was around the last couple of hours who might have seen anything."

"You got it."

"Lanie?"

"Gonna run a tox screen back at the lab."

Lanie zips the body body shut, stands and leaves with the EMT guys.
Beckett watches them all go before looking back at Castle, this time holding her gaze firmly on him.

"That was a good call about a possible hate crime. It hadn't even crossed my mind."

"It would have. You're the best."

Beckett sighs. He isn't making this easy for her, but she wants him to get it. He needs to know that she knows the truth - and that she's okay with it.

"Maybe I am, Castle, but...I'm still better with you. We solve cases. Okay?"

A tiny smile appears on Castle's lips and she can feel a blush rising on her checks as his eyes seem to caress her face.

"Okay."

"Always?" The word slips out unintentionally. Rick's eyes widen and then soften. She could drown in the blue of his eyes and not care...

"Always, Beckett. For as long as you'll have me."

She nods and smiles, "Always it is, then."

"Hey Beckett, I think we -"

Ryan stops short as he catches the look on Beckett and Castle's faces.

"Ummm."

She grins at his confusion and wonders if that office pool about her and Castle is still active. Maybe it's time that someone finally win the damn thing...She lets her eyes go back to Castle's, just for a moment, and smiles that tiny smile that puts the the Mona Lisa to shame. Then, quick as a light switch, Detective Beckett is back.

"Whatcha got, Ryan?"