Fill for anon prompt request on Castle Fanfic Prompts on Tumblr:

"i don't know if anyone's done this yet, but a first kiss where they're at a yankees game and it's the kiss cam on them and they just decide to go for it and then author's choice for what happens afterwards"

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle! If I did, this would happen on TV :)

She laughs, just a breathy exhale, and oh - oh this is his favorite laugh of hers. He loves her peals and her guffaws, too, but this one is equal parts exhilaration and exasperation meant only for him that he can imagine she would use...

Ah. He averts his eyes to rid himself of thoughts of bedrooms and nakedness and... He groans internally.

Beckett's squinting down at the field, watching as the hitter steadies himself, his bat gyrating in minute circles in the air above his shoulder. Then there's a crack, and he's speeding off.

She turns to beam at him - this is her favorite player. But, oh - what is his name again? His mind is filled with nothing but her smile.

She tries to focus on the game, she really does.

But he's watching her with that tender look, soft and adoring, and she's having a hard time controlling her urges today.

He makes waiting, healing, so hard.

"Catch it if it comes your way!" he says, excitedly.

She laughs. "Okay. But I can't promise I won't fall off the stadium diving for it."

Days like these make her think... No. It's a dangerous thought.

Her heart quickens. Could she do it?

She's a butterfly out of the cocoon, unfurling her wings and waiting for them to dry. Can she fly when they're still so new, so fragile? Will she plummet to her - their - demise?

"I'll catch you," he says, earnestly. Her heart stutters in her chest.

Oh. She laughs breathlessly. He was responding to her earlier comment, but-

I'll catch you.

And then she's made up her mind. Maybe she'll take him out to dinner, yes.

She's been ready to fly. She just didn't know it.

His mouth goes dry as he watches her tip the glass back.

Swallowing thickly, he alternates glances between her and the game, but who is he kidding? It's her, it's always been her.

She hums in approval as she sips his beer and she really needs to stop making that delicious noise in public.

And then she hands it back, and it's all he can do to *not* drop it because good Lord, she is distracting. He almost goes to take a swig but remembers that her ethereal lips have graced the rim of this glass, deciding that he wouldn't be able to handle the intimacy of pressing his mouth where hers have been.

"...and we have a celebrity at this very game!" a voice bellows from the stadium's vast sound system.

His ears acknowledge the announcement, but his eyes are still locked on her.

"The Yankees welcome Richard Castle!"

He nearly jumps from his seat, dazedly turning to the huge screen that hovers above his head. He meets his own bewildered eyes.

"And what's this? A muse?" The camera pans out to include Beckett in the shot. She looks just as stunned as he does.

Then she breaks out into one of her full smiles, cheeks and eyes creasing with it. It's contagious - he begins to smile, too.

And then the crowd starts chanting, a slow rumble at first that builds into a fiery crescendo. It takes him a moment to realize what they're saying.

"Kiss, kiss!"

She feels her face grow hot as thousands turn to stare at them, urging them on.

She turns to him expectantly, eagerly, but he's sitting there unmoving, gawking at her.

She glances back at the waiting crowd, heart pumping faster. Why isn't he-?

She feels the embarrassment flood her face visibly at his very public rejection. She meets his stare, feeling the back of her eyes burn and sting but willing the tears to stay in their reservoir.

That's when she sees it.

Oh. Hesitation.

He's not...he's just-he's waiting. For permission.

Biting her lip, she holds his gaze and gives the subtlest of nods.

He mentally screams at the half of New York present at this game because they were so close. She's let him in so far past her walls. They're ruining it. Everything.

He can't, couldn't pressure her to do this. Reticent, private Kate, doesn't deserve this.

But she's not avoiding his eyes. She's not bolting from her seat. She's giving him this look. Coy and encouraging and oh.

She's always sent mixed signals, but he is one hundred percent sure that she is inviting him to-

Greedily, he slides his hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head, before he crushes his lips into hers.

She responds instantly, rising up to him, mouth working against his, hard and rhythmic.

She's enjoying this as much as he is.

At this realization, he deepens the kiss, tongue begging for entrance to her sweet mouth, which she instantly grants him access to.

Suddenly he's all around her, and she's vaguely aware of the raucous cheers of the crowd as she fists her hands in his shirt, wanting him infinitely closer.

There's an armrest between them as they frantically clutch at each other and there are people watching and there's the crunch of peanut shells at their feet, but it's not awkward.

It's perfect.

His tongue slides against hers and she hears herself whimper, the sound drawing them back to reality.

They break off, breathing heavily as they stare in stunned silence.

The announcer chuckles at them, silencing the crowd, and begins the mundane listing of the teams' sponsors.

She's casual and nonchalant when she slides her fingers between his and keeps their hands interlocked for the rest of the game. And then to their usual burger joint. And then to her door. And then...well.

When they lie sated and intertwined, she grins at him and says cheekily, "That'll be a great story for the kids."