For Lou, on her birthday. Love you lots!

Kate Beckett is a little nervous.

It's not often that she feels this way, senses on high alert, fingers curled into a fist under the table in an attempt to soothe her nerves. She's in a short dress and can feel the cool breeze from the air-conditioning that swirls around her bare legs. Her hair is hanging loose in soft curls around her shoulders, purposely styled mere hours before, and she's wearing a lot more makeup than she usually does for work. It reminds her of when she was in Vice, a little out of her own skin and she doesn't like the feeling. She tries to calm herself, keeping the slight smile on her lips as she reminds herself that she's only playing a part.

Next to her, much to her chagrin, Castle sits perfectly still, poised and calm as if he's done this a million times. It bugs her that he seemed to fall into the part so easily, taking it all in his stride. She's the cop here not him, but here she is, nervous twitching in her eye and it's as though being interviewed to be allowed to enter one of the city's most exclusive swingers club is something he does on a daily basis.

A swingers club. God.

Not for the first time this evening, she wonders just how she manages to find herself in these uncomfortable situations time and time again. It's only been about two weeks since the incident with the tiger and the cuffs, and now she's pretending to be a married swinger.

She blames Castle.

Her eyes cut to his profile, glaring at him in silence. The case they're working on involves a string of dead bodies that had turned up around the city, all married couples and all murdered in the same style - which led them to conclude that they were after a serial killer.

Ryan and Esposito, after very many exhausting days of witness questioning and chasing down leads, had found out that all the victims were swingers who'd frequented the same swingers club - The Bowery - within the last month or so.

Unfortunately for them, getting a search warrant for the club had proven to be difficult, and when Ryan and Esposito had started questioning the employees, they'd come up empty handed. That's when Castle had chimed in with his brilliant idea.

So despite a lengthy argument with Captain Gates about the sheer absurdity of his plan, she still found herself sitting in a small interview room at the club, pretending to be married to Castle. Pretending to be married to Castle and looking to have sex with other married couples. Of all her undercover stints she's participated in, this is hands down, the most complicated.

Her relationship with Castle is in a weird place, partners toeing the line between being really good friends and something...more. The profession of love that fell from his lips as she lay bleeding out at Montgomery's funeral festers in the back of her mind; the guilt of her lie and the failure to acknowledge his words fueling her many sleepless nights.

It's not like she doesn't have feelings for him. It's the complete opposite, actually. It's just that she thinks Castle might be her one, and she's not sure if she's ready for that just yet. He's all but promised that he'd wait for her for as long as she needed, and it gives her hope that someday they'll be able to have their happily ever after. It does, however, serve as a reminder that she's being completely unfair to him for as long as she keeps pretending she doesn't know how he feels about her.

And now, sitting in such close proximity to him with the lingering scent of his cologne in the air and having to pretend to be married, especially after being cuffed to him for hours two weeks ago, it sets her heart aflutter. It's like she's on a see-saw of emotions, bouncing back and forth between maintaining their status quo and giving in, kissing him senseless.

She groans at her predicament and it causes Castle to turn to her. He must have mistaken her frustration as being connected to the case and he smirks at her, an annoying glint in his eye.

"It'll be fine, Beckett. It's just pretend," he says. "Let me do all the talking, you just sit there and play nice."

"Yeah, because you probably do this sort of thing every day, don't you?" she snaps at him and as the words leave her mouth, she notices that his smile falters, forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrow. Her gut churns with regret at her words. She hadn't meant them with any malice, but she thinks she may have hurt him a little.

"I'm not that kinda guy, Beckett," he mumbles."I might have been ... a little indiscreet in my younger days, but I'm not like that anymore. I'm just trying to help."

Beckett swallows and opens her mouth to apologize. She knows. She knows he's not the same man who'd weaseled his way into her life four years ago. She'd let her frustration with her own issues get the best of her and she'd lashed out at him. Castle had become one of the few people she trusted with her life, and he didn't deserve the derision that had colored her earlier words.

But before she gets the chance to speak, the door in front of them swings open and a woman strides in, heels clicking against the marble floor. She's wearing a gorgeous knee-length red dress, cut low enough to showcase her ample cleavage.

The woman smiles, warm and friendly before taking her place in the chair opposite them. She has a clipboard in her hand and she sets it down on the table before speaking.

"Hi, my name is Francie and I'm in charge of making newcomers feel welcome when they visit us for the first time. How are you, Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers? Are you feeling alright?"

Beckett mentally smacks herself; she thought she'd had her emotions under control, but Francie had managed to pick up on her nervousness instantly. Her eyes dart to Castle, fingers still clenched beneath the table. Castle turns to her, a warm smile on his face - not a single worry line in place and his hand reaches out to palm her knee, a soothing balm on her frayed nerves.

"Oh, Becca's just a little nervous, that's all. We've never done anything like this before." His voice is steady, deep and comforting. He's still staring at her, and she clears her throat before turning back to Francie.

"I'm okay, really. Just a little out of my comfort zone."

Francie nods and and picks up the clipboard. "I understand. As long as this is something both of you want, I have no problems with it. The Bowery is a place of mutual consent, and we do not want any misunderstanding about what goes on in here. Everyone who comes to the Bowery is here for a good time, and we have a zero tolerance for anything otherwise."

Beckett feels the hairs at the back of her neck prickle and stand on end. The tone of her voice implies that something unsavory had happened recently, necessitating the warning, and Beckett perks up at the rush of excitement that comes with her finding a lead for a case. Her fingers drum a rhythm against the flesh of her knee; she's impatient now, eager to get on with the proceedings so she can get to the bottom of the case.

Francie however, kept speaking, well practiced at reciting the words she now relays to them.

"We pride ourselves in the type of clientele that we allow here, I'm sure you understand why. It looks like you two seem perfect for us, but for the sake of formalities, please tell me a little about yourselves and why you've come here today."

Castle speaks again next to her, and she's grateful that he's taking the lead this time. His natural charm will work in their favor, and as he recites the background information that they'd been fed for their respective covers, Francie's posture eases, shoulders relaxing.

He weaves a tale about their fairytale meeting, their enchanted wedding and she sees Francie eat it all up. The low baritone of his voice explains that they've been married for a little over three years and while they still love each other, they're beginning to feel a little bored and needed a little spice in their life. Castle's a natural storyteller and when he ends his fictional tale, Francie has a hand on her heart, a wistful look on her face and Beckett knows they're in.

"That is lovely, you two. I can't imagine you'd cause any problems here," she croons. She turns the clipboard around to face them and a long painted fingernail scores the bottom line of the paper. "Just need your signatures here, have a read of the usual rules regarding discretion; what goes on, who you see here, of course. And it's an upfront payment of a two hundred dollars for couples."

Beckett's eyebrows arch in alarm, not expecting the steep price for entry. She doesn't have that kind of cash on her, and her credit cards have her real name on it, and so would Castle's. Her fingers unfurl and dig into the clutch on her lap, but Castle's wide palm covers her hand, stilling her movements.

She looks at him, tries to warn him with her eyes about not using his credit card in case he hasn't thought about it. He reaches into his suit jacket and she's about to protest, but he merely grins and hands over a wad of cash to Francie.

Okay, that works too. Of course he has two hundred dollars in cash casually stashed in his jacket. Of course.

Castle scribbles his fake signature on the dotted line and slides the clipboard over to her. She makes a quick scan of the rules, making sure they're not signing anything out of the ordinary and signs her fake name as well.

"Well, we're all done here. If you need some time, feel free to stay here as long as you want. When you're ready, just go through the door, and follow the corridor straight into the common room. I hope you enjoy your time here." Francie says, pushing her chair back and standing up. She picks up the clipboard, winks at them and disappears behind the door.

Beckett lets out a breath as relief washes over her and clears her throat.

"Well that was terrifying," she mutters. "Being interviewed to be allowed to have sex, I mean."

Castle chuckles, hearty and full of mirth. "They're just covering all their bases, Beckett. Can't have dirty creepers into such a fancy establishment, can they?"

She cocks her eyebrows at him and rolls her eyes. "Well, we're only here because there's a murderer on the loose among them - I'm pretty sure that's up there with 'dirty creepers', Castle."

Castle purses his lips, eyes squinting as a thoughtful look crosses his face. "Huh, yeah. I guess that's worse than dirty creepers."

Beckett scrapes her chair back and stands up as Castle does the same next to her. Her dress swishes at her knees, soft and silky against her skin. She'd opted for a simple blue dress, modest compared to some of the dresses she's chosen for her other undercover operations, but it seems to please Castle nonetheless, if his expression is anything to go by.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asks, cheeks dimpled in a wide smile. He holds his elbow out to her, and she loops her own arm through it.

"You did when you picked me up from the precinct," she mumbles, unsure of how to take the compliment. She does, however, respond with a similar sentiment. "You look pretty good too, Castle. Very ready to go have sex with a bunch of married strangers."

He laughs at that and it makes her lips curl upward too. She keeps the smile on her face as he leads them through the door and down the corridor Francie had instructed them to go through.

They pause before a set of double doors, a sign with fancy lettering spelling out 'The Bowery' on top of the doorframe.

They look at each other and suck in a breath at the same time. Turning back towards the double doors, they both reach out and push, stepping past the threshold, letting the doors swing shut behind them.

What greets them is nothing she'd seen before and it causes a warm blush to rise up to her cheeks. It's a big room with dark lighting, a kaleidoscope of color with bits of blue, purple and green swirling before her eyes. Music pulses through giant speakers all over the room, seductive and enthralling at the same time.

And the people.

There are so many people in the room, close to thirty, she thinks, and almost all engaged in activities that are more commonly conducted in private. A woman is in a corner, on her knees before a man whose eyes are shut, hands fisting in her hair as she pleasures him.

Kate Beckett is far from a prude, but she looks away and scans the rest of her crowd. Her eyes catch sight of a group of naked people having sex on a lounge in the middle of the room and she averts her eyes, turning around to look at her partner instead.

He looks down at her, muted amusement in his eyes, but he's also sporting the same hint of blush on his cheeks. Beckett's somewhat relieved he's just as affected as she is and she licks her lips, feeling more out of place than she's ever felt in her entire life.

"You okay?" Castle asks, straightening his arm so her hand falls away from the crook of his elbow. He's always been able to read her, something she's been both annoyed and impressed by. It's no different this time round and he seems to sense that she's not quite at ease here.

He steps around so he's standing in front of her, shielding her from the rest of the room. "Um, we can just go, if this is too much. I mean, it's ah, pretty full on."

He isn't being cocky about noticing her discomfort, something she's grateful for. One hand comes around to splay wide on her back, while the other curves around her shoulder. A weird thrill of want travels through her at the contact. It's sweet, actually. He's trying to protect her from the rest of the people in the room and her blood warms at the sentiment.

"Yeah, I'm okay. We can stay. We have a job to do."

She smiles at him, her fingers plucking his hand from her shoulder and curling around his large digits so they're holding hands, very reminiscent of when they were handcuffed together.

She recalls a line he used during that case and she grins at him, tongue peeking out in mischief as her eyes meet his.

"You know what I love about working with you?" she asks, echoing his words from back then. His eyes twinkle in delight, no doubt remembering the same conversation she's repeating to him right now. "You always take me to the most charming places."

tbc

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