Author's Note: For the purpose of this fic, let's assume that following 7x02, "Montreal," Castle and Beckett haven't had naughty times yet. Hope you enjoy! -Bri x

Love Shack
Chapter One

"No. I'm sorry, Jordan, but we can't. No, he's fine, it's just … we're not in a great place right now."

Castle slows as he approaches Beckett's desk, straining to piece together the words that she's murmuring into her cell phone. He does know one thing - she's talking about him.

The dull ache in his chest intensifies every time he gets close to her. He's been home for two weeks and he's still shellshocked by the abrupt change in their relationship. So he watches her through the metal room divider, studying her. Her head is bent over her desk and she has one hand pressed to her forehead.

He used to love these moments when he could observe her from afar. It used to be the only time he could just stare, could let his love take up more room than air in his chest. But for the past two years, he's been allowed to look at her whenever he wanted, and he wonders if maybe he'd started taking her for granted.

But now that it's back to surreptitious glances, he's reminded of how very extraordinary she is, and of how very much he loves her. He hates seeing the extra tension she's carrying along the line of her spine. Hates the stiffness of her arms, the hesitance in her smiles. He hates knowing that it's all his fault, but more than anything he hates that he doesn't know how to fix things between them. He hopes a vanilla latte will make a start. It's the first time he's brought her coffee to work since the day they went to get their marriage license and failed so spectacularly.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't approach Gates with this," Kate continues into her phone. "Yeah. Okay, thanks Jordan. Let us know if we can help in any other way, or on any other cases. Okay. Bye."

Kate brings the phone away from her ear and thumbs the call off, brushing her hair behind her ear with her other hand. He misses her voluptuous waves, but her new haircut is so simple and sexy that he can't complain.

He picks up his pace and puts on a show of making his entrance. He misses being real, being with her in the safety of their bedroom, but even that sacred ground is tainted now. In fact, that might be where he has to act the most these days. Because she's right, they're both not ready, and they're acting like they're okay when they're really not.

She touches him so carefully these days, holding her heart just out of reach, and it's so different from the reckless, radiant abandon of their previous life behind closed doors that it makes him want to slide down the wall and sob. Just last night, they'd spoken words to one another that were meant to soothe, but even they hadn't managed to close the gap between them. She'd laid her ear over his heart, but they'd fallen asleep and rolled away from one another sometime in the night. That would have never happened before.

He misses the Kate that couldn't get enough of him. And it's not like he doesn't want her. He feels the familiar stir of desire in his body every time they touch, but he tries not to let the electricity reach his heart because he's not sure he could take the rejection that's so obviously waiting one question or heated kiss away.

They haven't had sex in two weeks - well, two months and two weeks, and he doesn't know how to fix it. He realizes that two weeks would probably sound normal for other people, but for him and Kate it just isn't. Not after four years of holding back. When the floodgates opened on that rainy night in May, they just hadn't stopped. Until now.

Castle sets her coffee down on her desk and sinks into his chair. Didn't he used to wait for her to take it from his hands, just to feel her fingers brush against his? He gathers his courage and tries again, lifts his eyes and the cup, and something flickers deep in her eyes, recognition, maybe, or happiness. She reaches for it and her pinkie slides against his thumb. He swallows. Yep, it's all definitely still there, for him at least.

"Thanks, Castle," she says, a little shyly.

"You're welcome. Who was that on the phone?"

"Mm? Oh, just Jordan Shaw."

She's not being very forthcoming. Luckily, he's a nosy rascal. He wouldn't want to change that now and throw her off. He already gets the impression that he's not acting like the man she fell in love with; he's not about to go changing his behavior on her.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing, Castle," she sighs, and his heart sinks because the old Kate would have laid into him for eavesdropping.

"Didn't sound like nothing. Were you talking about me?"

"Can we just drop it, please?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Have you met me?"

"She wanted our help on a case, okay? That's all."

"So…?"

"So what?"

"What case? What does she need us to do? When do we start?"

"I said no, Castle."

"Why?"

"Because - because we're not ready yet."

"Not ready to solve cases? Because I think we just solved one yesterday," he points out.

"Not for this case," she mumbles, just quiet enough for him to miss. Almost.

"What do you mean not for this case?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Castle. She wanted us to go undercover. At some place called…" she looks down at her legal pad and reads the words hastily scrawled there, "The Mansion of Dionysus."

Castle chokes. "The Mansion of Dionysus?"

"You've heard of it?"

"Of course I've heard of it. The place is legendary. They say Dionysus hosts the sexiest parties of all time - all candles and lingerie and people doing dark things in dark corners. It's invite only, of course."

He had tried to score an invite in the height of his playboy days after Kyra broke his heart, just before he met Meredith. He'll save that confession for another day, though.

"I thought the place was a myth," he says. "But if the FBI is claiming otherwise … oh my God, Beckett, you have to call her back."

He's wanted to go to a Dionysus party for decades. And it would be amazing to attend one with Beckett. He'd learned early on in their relationship that she had a bit of a fetish for almost getting caught doing … inappropriate things. And how brilliant would it be to go to a party where he could touch her and not have to hide it? His blood runs a little hotter in his veins at the thought, and he shifts in his seat.

"Castle, I don't think it's a good idea to go undercover as insatiable lovers," she hisses. "Especially since we haven't … you know … in two and a half months," she whispers harshly, eyes flaming and hurt.

He almost lets it go. Almost doesn't press the issue. But the thought of the noises she'd make with his mouth at her throat, their chemistry on display for others to watch and enjoy, is just too damn tempting.

He thinks about how he can get her to change her mind. He'll have to appeal to her sense of justice. It might not work, but it's certainly worth a try.

"Why did Jordan call us? Doesn't she have some agents who could do it?"

Kate swivels in her chair and looks at him incredulously.

"Don't be stupid, Castle, of course she doesn't. She can't ask her employes to pretend to have sex with each other while they're on the job."

Oh, if he can convince her to go, there won't be anything pretend about it.

"So," he says, measuring his words out carefully. "If we don't go, they're just not going to send anyone? Who are they trying to catch, anyway?"

"The man who hosts them, apparently - Dionysus himself. They don't know his real identity, but two couples have been murdered in houses linked to his parties in the past three weeks."

"Hmm. Well, I hope they can catch him some other way. Sounds like he's bad news."

He taps his fingers nonchalantly on the smooth wood of her desk and looks around the bullpen, pretending to have dropped the conversation.

Kate grunts frustratedly. He risks a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She's focused on her computer screen, clicking around angrily with her mouse. He's pleased to find her cheeks flushed, the same way they get when they build theory together, or when she gets really annoyed at him for pestering her. It feels like home.

He waits for it.

Three … two … one …

"Fine," she says, snapping up her phone and jabbing her finger at the glass to call Jordan back.

Castle hides his grin.

"Hi, it's Beckett. I just talked to Castle. We'll take the case."