She'd been giving him the eye all day. Smiling. A lot. He had been trying so hard for so long, chasing. And now that she wanted to be caught? Well now, he was out of practice. Or maybe he knew it was his last chase. Her boy-man.

They were midway through John Woo's The Killer. Honestly, it had been a little awkward for both of them. She was on one end of the loveseat, he was on the other. It wasn't a big piece of furniture. He could still reach out and touch her, although he didn't.

"More wine?"

She shook her head.

"Popcorn?" Now he was fluttering. Looking for things to fill the awkward space.

"I'm good," she paused a moment, it added an accidental emphasis, "Rick."

Her posture said it all.

She had her legs pulled up, chin resting on her knees, lost her shoes somewhere in their transition from the kitchen to the living room. It was like they were both waiting for something to happen. Something heavy. Like they both held a secret. I like her. I like him. They were both fifth graders.

Sneaking peeks at the other's reaction to the movie's scenes.

Jumping at the touch of one hand on another as they both reached for the popcorn.

Only this wasn't the kind of movie the average fifth grader should be watching. There were some intensely violent scenes. Really cringe-worthy. It was also full of symbolism. Fascinating, in a keep-your-eyes-covered kind of way. Not unexpectedly, that's what they were both doing. He leaned on the armrest, hand on his forehead, ready to block out scenes as necessary. She was using the bowed head methodology.

A critical scene was building. It had clearly captured her attention.

He didn't think, maybe he should have, but if Alexis had been sitting there, or even his mother, with that look on their face he couldn't help himself. He was compelled to move; reached out and poked her side.

Her body involuntarily launched itself in his direction as she called his name.

"Castle!"

The suddenness of her move canted her knees toward him as she folded to the space between them. With horror, he had the thought he'd hurt her, but she faced him a moment later, smile unfettered. Glee written across her features.

His arm was around her instantly, laughing at her and pulling her upright at the same time. The sound rich and warm. He rocked her a bit, adjusting her to tuck into his side, thighs touching. Rightness replaced awkwardness. This was them. And suddenly, it wasn't.

Her upturned smiling face nestled against his shoulder sobered him. And suddenly the moment was upon them. He curled in the arm she rested on, bringing her closer. Watched as her smile waned. Eyes flickered to lips. Hearts fluttered. Time stopped.

He didn't kiss her, she didn't kiss him.

They kissed each other.

His lips were soft. Her tongue was aggressive. A little awkward at first. But suddenly, they were them, and their kiss was smooth. And even. And just the right amount of pressure to make it good. He finally put his hands in her hair, stroked her back. She finally ran her fingers gently over his ears, down his jaw.

When they pulled back he said softly, "Waited a long time for that."

"Mmmmm."

"Worth it." He lit up the room with his smile.

"Yeah."

"Wanna do it again?" He asked like a nine-year-old on a sugar rush.

She schooled her features, stopped him from launching into a second round.

"Wait, you said you were going to distract yourself with this double feature, you sure you don't want to watch the movie?" She teased.

"Rather play with you."

Everything impetuous in Kate Beckett launched her forward to kiss him again.

They lost themselves in the warm lighting, the sweet company, and the light sounds of machine gunfire coming from the television.

Until the phone rang.

A/N: I am so writing this in a meeting right now. Risking my job for you dear reader. (The meeting is in my second language so I can't even follow it passively, I'm sure I gave myself away with my completely inappropriate smiles as I wrote this). If it made you smile, send me a review. If not, write me something mean anonymously.