A/N: It started as an award fic for Castle Fan Awards 2012 (go check out „Scribbles in the Elevator" from my page), but since my friends really wanted me to continue with it, and I can't do that with my awards fic, then i decided to go make a standalone fic from it. Hope you like it! Thank you Tux, Foox, Hippy and lv2bnsb.

Set:The fiction should be set during the episode "Undead Again". They never had Castle dressed as a Zombie yet, it should be early stages of investigation. My awkward spin on things.

"Stop eet!" Kate snapped.

"Aawhh... whaat?" he asks after finishing his yawn, trying to cover his mouth with his hand.

"Awhhh! ... That! Thanks a lot!" she answers to his question.

"What did I do?" he asks again, dramatic note in his voice.

"You yawned! It's contagious!" she hisses at him and covers her mouth once again, feeling another yawn coming. She does yawn again. "See what you did there!?" she accuses him again.

"I'm so sorry," he says sarcastically. "It wasn't my idea to get trapped in this freaking elevator you know. I'm sleepy and I wanna go home." he whines.

"Stop the whining." she tells him.

"Stop this, stop that... what am I allowed to do in this freakin' elevator?" he asks, frustration in his voice. "You're not a good partner to be stuck with." He covers his face with his hands and exhales with frustration. He stops pacing, leans back against the elevator wall, and stares at her.

Kate is sitting on the floor, her back against the elevator doors and her feet straightened out in front of her. Her coat is lying next to her in a messy heap, next to it stands a lonely cup of coffee that was in her hand when they stepped into the elevator few hours earlier.

She is staring back at him, the same amount of annoyance on her face as he's already expressed. She slowly exhales, the irritation easing slightly. "I'm sorry, Castle."

He decides to sit down across from her, so he slowly slides down the wall and makes himself comfortable. They stare at each other for a long while, not daring to say anything. Castle estimates that they've been in the elevator for at least a few hours. It's hot, and the music seems to have the crappiest songs known to man going on a loop on its playlist. It doesn't make things any better when the case they had today was supposed to be his last one - and he was truly determined to leave afterwards.

Castle is annoying the hell out of her. Kate closes her eyes, leans her head heavily back against the doors and lets her mind wander. She thought that she knew him, but apparently she really doesn't. He's been acting weird lately, pulling away more and more - right when she was ready to step forward in this relationship. Just when she was brave enough to break her walls, climb out of her hiding place and embrace him as he is. Suddenly something snapped and he pulled away. Now it seemed that he couldn't even tolerate being in the same room with her. A sigh escaped her lips. The worst part? The ridiculous songs emanating from the tinny speakers. She was already sick of them.

He just sat there. She'd apologized, and at least that was good - a start he guessed. He heard her sigh and raised his head to look at her, but she'd already closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She seemed to be deep in thought. He looked to the ceiling but nothing good comes out of there either. He was sick of the radio so he opened his mouth.

"Can I borrow your gun?" he asks out loud.

Her eyes snap open, and she glares at him.

"What for?" she asks, her hand goes instinctively to her holster to check if her gun is still there.

"To shoot the damn radio," he points upwards to the ceiling.

She lets out a breath of laughter.

"As much as I'd like to do it myself, we really shouldn't," she said, a slight smile on her lips, her hand moving back to lie in her lap again.

He chuckled, "Ugh, why do you have to be so politically correct. We could have fun destroying that damn speaker," he teased. He knows her very well - shooting the radio isn't her idea of fun.

She glares at him again, this time a little smirk on her face. "I don't think it's such a good idea in a closed space. Bullets bounce." she says, making a zigzag pattern with her fingers.

"Yeah, right, don't want to get killed in an elevator." he jokes. And there's the silence again.

She sighed, her thoughts interrupted by the sudden outburst coming from him. The mood in the elevator seems to have lifted a bit. She doesn't dare speak much, but she is getting bored. Kate's not sure what to do anymore - how to act around him.

"Castle?" she asks.

He raises his head from his hands and looks at her. "Yeah?"

"Do you have a pen or something with you?" she says tentatively.

"Why would I have a pen?" he asks mockingly.

"I thought you're a writer, isn't that standard issue?" she laughs.

"Ha ha ha..." he retorts. "Mock all you want, but I don't usually carry a pen with me." he answers. "We, writers use computers these days. You know, technology and all." He makes the imitation of typing with his fingers. She smiles at his miming.

"Why'd you need a pen anyway?" he asks after a moment of silence.

"I'm really bored" she answers honestly. "I thought since we're stuck in here - god knows how long, we might pass our time doing something." she sighs.

"What did you have in mind?" he asks again.

"I wanted to draw whiskers on your face." she smirks now. He snorts out a laugh and stares at her. "No, really, I was just gonna draw somewhere." she finally adds.

"Well, in that case..." he leaned forward and started patting his pockets - as if trying to find something. After a few touches, he finds what he was looking for and fishes it out. "A-HA!" he makes a noise of discovery. He looks into her eyes and says "I don't have a pen, but I have a sharpie!"

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief. "Always ready, huh?" she asks.

"Ready for what?" he is a little bit confused.

"Always ready to sign a woman's chest with your sharpie" she mocks again with a smile on her face.

He smirks at her but says "Just for your information, I haven't signed any chests with it... " he says "... yet." he adds, while holding out the sharpie and waggling his eyebrows.

She raises herself up and snatches the pen. "You're not signing mine either" she says with certainty.

He quirks up his eyebrows and asks "Is that a challenge?"

She doesn't answer, ignoring him completely. Looking around, she finds her coffee cup lying on the ground. She picks it up and starts drawing something on it. He is observing her, amused look on his face. Kate knows that he is watching her and she doesn't want to yield to his stare. She turns her cup in front of her, drawing quickly and neatly. She smiles when she is ready with her work. She extends her arm and turns the cup so he can see what she was working on.

He smiles when he sees the little drawing there. It is a tiny and funny cat with huge whiskers and a beard. "You're cute." he says, looking at the drawing. His brow furrows all of a sudden.

"Why such big whiskers?" he asks.

She looks at him now, with a glint of joy in her eyes. "You didn't let me draw whiskers on your face." she answers, her voice dripping with amusement.

"You didn't allow me to sign your chest." he retorts quickly with a same amount of amusement.

She's silent for a beat or two, then suddenly looks back at him. "Tell you what..." she says and without waiting for his response, she continues "It is your last day, as you said. And we're stuck - here." she pauses for effect "I'll let you sign my chest." his face lights up at her words "But..." she continues "I want to draw whiskers on you." she says trying to be serious, but the corners of her mouth tremble as she holds back a smile.

His eyes grow big at her suggestion. He straightens up his back and leans forward facing her. His mouth forms a smile and a spark of joy returns to his eyes after a brief surprise.

"Deal." he says extending out his arm to Kate. She responds with the same movement. Their hands meet in a handshake. They smile, having the same amount of amusement and mischief in their faces.

"So..." he starts. "Who goes first?"

She gets up from the floor and urges him do the same. She holds up the sharpie, "I have the pen, I'll go first". He stands up, pulling her with him. With her high heels they're virtually the same height. He's always enjoyed that. They're equal. They've always complemented each other.

She uncaps the sharpie and brings her hand up to his face, coming closer to him. Her chest almost connecting with his, she slowly, tentatively touches his jaw and holds it still. She brings the sharpie up with her right hand and raises it to his nose. He suddenly pulls his head back, confused. She hisses at him.

"You said whiskers, not a nose." he says, his voice now husky, low.

She grins at him, her face only inches away from his. "Well, nose and whiskers, it's kind of a package deal." she winks at him.

He smiles and announces, "Well, in that case, you get a nose if I get a dedication."

She squints her eyes, holding on his arm. "That's blackmail."

"I believe it is." he answers, nodding.

She huffs out a breath. "I don't like it." she says.

"I am fairly certain you're not supposed to." he says. They're silent for few seconds.

"Okay. Nose for dedication." she answers finally. "NOT a long one." she adds.

He makes a pouty face. "Not fair." he says as she glares back. "You got your nose, now get on with it" he urges.

Her hands connect with his face again and this time, the sharpie touches his nose. Concentrating on her work, she draws a nice black nose. He wrinkles his nose and she hisses "Stay still. You want a pretty nose, don't ya?"

"I HAVE a pretty nose" he corrects her, smirking. She rolls her eyes at him.

He stills his movements and lets her finish. When she goes to draw the whiskers, he lets out a chuckle. She stills her movements and looks at him, question in her eyes.

"It tickles" he explains.

"Ah" she answers and continues drawing. When she is finished with both sides of his face, she smiles contently. She steps back from him. Smiling widely.

"You look cute" she says, proud of her work.

He sighs. "I wish we had a mirror, so I could see how I look." he says.

"Don't worry, we will be out of here soon" she says as she smiles at him, putting a cap on the sharpie. She extends it to him and continues, "Your turn."

He accepts the sharpie and uncorks it. Raising up his arm he asks "Where?"

She stares at him for a moment and says "You wanted to sign my chest. You choose where."

"I... I... I don't think it's a good idea..." he stutters. "Letting me write wherever I want." he swallows.

She smiles weakly and raises her hands up to her V-neck blouse. Pulling it down a little bit, she exposes a good amount of her chest. He steps closer and swallows again. He had no idea that he would be doing anything like this when he stepped into the elevator this afternoon. He touches her chest tentatively. He hears her sharp intake of breath when his fingers connect. He feels his heart quicken at the touch too. 'Relax, it's only an autograph' he says to himself. He pulls down her blouse a little bit more, exposing more skin. Raising the other hand to her chest, he starts writing. He scribbles three short words and then she feels him starting to sign his autograph.

She bends her head down to see what he's writing, but he's done already. He covers the writing with his palm, not allowing her to see it. He shifts himself closer to her, not taking his hands off her. One palm covering the dedication, his other hand starts to move downwards on her chest. She wants to stop him, but before she can do anything, his fingers have already found her scar. She takes in a shaky breath but doesn't move. She raises her head to look at him. His face is serious as his fingers wander against her round scar. He stares at the scar, so intently. She feels his breath, shallow and shaky. He removes his hand from the scar and raises his head. Their eyes meet and she sees pain in his eyes. Pain and something else she can't name at the moment. He sighs a long breath and says. "I'm sorry."

She knows he doesn't mean touching the scar or writing on her chest. He wants forgiveness for what he has done to her. But in reality, he has done nothing. Nothing to hurt her. She closes her eyes and sighs.

He hasn't stepped back yet, instead she feels one of his hands touching her shoulder lightly. Before she can form a sentence in her head to answer back to him, she feels fingers under her chin and she opens her eyes while he is lifting her head upwards. She wants to say something to stop him, but she's too late. One of his hands is snaking around her back, the other one has moved from her chin to her neck and is pulling her closer to him. She doesn't fight him. She has no willingness to fight anymore. Their eyes connect for a brief moment, creating a spark within her. His eyes are serious, but full of want, full of something she still can't name. She closes her eyes and then she feels it. His lips gently touching hers. She sighs audibly as a response to him. She feels him smile against her lips. That cocky man. Then he pulls away.

Her hands rose around his neck during the commotion, and when she feels him retreating, she doesn't let him go. He feels the restraint and he halts, opening his eyes. She sighs and doesn't open her eyes, but leans in to him. He smiles for a second as he closes his eyes and meets her halfway. Mouths connect again, their gentle movements creating waves of pleasure in her and she craves for more. She opens her mouth to nibble his bottom lip, when he does the same. Their breaths mingle and new depths of their mouths taste good for both of them. He starts walking her backwards until her shoulders hit the wall of the elevator.

He pushes his full weight on her as their kiss gets more and more heated by the second. It makes her sigh against his mouth. He pulls back for a little bit, allowing them to breathe. He smiles at the sound of her gasping the air into her lungs. Not letting her come down from her high, he starts placing open mouthed kisses to her cheek and slowly moving to her neck, making her moan softly.

Then a jerk of movement jolts through them. He eases his weight off of her and retreats as the elevator starts to descend slowly. He looks at her. Her flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips makes her irresistible in the dim light. She looks at him now, fire in her eyes and she removes her hands around his neck. She flicks his collar with her fingers and says with soft voice "You know, I've never been kissed by a Catman".

He chuckles at her words "Was I that bad?" he asks, leaning closer to her.

"No" she smiles "You weren't bad at all." she says with voice so low, barely a whisper.

Dinging of the elevator announces its arrival to their floor. "Finally." he mutters under his breath, when the doors open to the precinct floor. He steps away from her, bending down to collect his coat that was lying on the floor. He observes her doing the same, and averting his eyes to the now open elevator doors, he sees the crowd there. They both take a deep breath before they enter to the precinct floor.

A/N: Teeny weeny author's note: I hope somebody catches the 3 nudges & nods I wrote for 3 of my other favourite shows (Stargate SG-1, Bones & Doctor Who). It would be cool if somebody DOES find it similar.

Please review? Pretty please?