This chapter was inspired by the lovely, wonderful, supportive SciFiGirl. She gave me the idea to use in my other series, "You Have No Idea", but I just couldn't make it work. BUT it was a BRILLIANT idea and so I popped it in here! I hope this does your idea justice, my darling!

"Artists have portrayed mythology since the dawn of time…" Mr. Palinski droned on. Beckett ignored him in favor of studying the various art students gathered in a circle around her. One of them was a little too good at reproducing Impressionist art. The distributor of the art was already dead, and Beckett and her team suspected that the artist would soon be as well.

The problem was which one it was. Hence, her current position on a cushioned podium in the center of the ring of students, wearing nothing but the skin she'd been born in.

Hey, she'd been through worse. It was all purely artistic, and Beckett had quickly found out the couple times she'd done it for extra money at Stanford that there was a definite difference between posing nude for magazines or porn and posing for art. The artists looked at her as if she was just another object, like a chair or landscape – something lovely to paint, but that was it. They were focused on her beauty but distanced from it; observers, and expressionists.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Oh God. That had definitely better not be whom she thought it was…

"I got lost in the hallways. Those are a veritable maze – you really should have more signs around here."

There was no mistaking that voice. Beckett kept her eyes fixed firmly upon a blank spot on the wall as Castle edged his way into the circle and set up his supplies… directly in front of her, no less.

If she'd been allowed to move a muscle, she would have heaved a heavy sigh.

Castle looked completely at ease, relaxed, looking at her as casually as the others were.

He was far from at ease, relaxed, and casual.

When he'd learned of Beckett's undercover assignment – without being under the cover of anything – he'd been understandably upset. This was his girlfriend, and while Castle normally prided himself on being a forward-thinking man, that was still his woman, and he didn't enjoy the thought of sharing her with anybody; even if it was a bunch of starving artists. They were college students! He was in college once! He knew what people got up to in there!

If he'd been a collage kid, in this class, with someone like Beckett in front of him… well… that thought alone wanted to make him deck every boy in this class. Of course, he couldn't deck any lesbians because he couldn't hit a woman with a clear conscience, so if there were any he'd have to settle for a death glare.

What was more, he hadn't been allowed to come! Gates had refused. When he'd protested that Beckett might need backup, their captain had snorted.

"Backup?" She'd asked. "And just what life-threatening situation might Detective Beckett get into with an art class?"

Well, when you put it that way… but it was the principle of the thing, and the point of the matter was that Beckett was naked, in front of strangers. And every bit of testosterone in Castle's body was downright furious.

Which led him to said art class, sitting directly in front of Beckett so that there was no way she could miss his presence. He'd hoped to be there on time, but, well, those stupid hallways… but he was there now, and that was all that mattered.

Beckett spent the rest of the hour trying to avoid Castle's gaze. She kept her eyes fixed upon her chosen spot on the wall, her breathing as slow and even as she could make it. It was extremely difficult with Castle looking at her like that. She didn't even have to be looking directly at him – she could feel his gaze upon her, feel the jealousy and the protectiveness and the lust boring into her. She'd been turned on by Castle's eyes before, but now that there was nothing to protect her – no banter to hide behind, no way to respond in kind – she was exposed and raw and helplessly at his mercy. It was all she could do to keep the reason for her current position in mind.

By the time class was dismissed, Beckett felt like a piece of marble warmed by the sun. Cold and hard until hit by the warm light, and then slowly warmed until she was baking and scalding to the touch. She grabbed the nearby sheet the teacher had provided, wrapping it around her body like a towel, and spoke with Mr. Palinski for a moment. After thanking him, the man left to give her time to dress and clean up.

No sooner had the door closed behind him then it reopened, this time admitting the green-eyed monster himself.

He grinned at the daggers Beckett's eyes threw at him.

"Mind if I request a private session?"

Beckett arched at eyebrow at him, but made no move towards her clothes. He'd gotten her this turned on – he figured he owed her a little. And this classroom wasn't set to be used until much later that afternoon. If he was going to make good on the promise of his eyes, then who was she to stop him?

Castle stalked across the room, but when he reached her he did nothing more than finger the sheet she was now clothed in. "You think I'm an idiot." He breathed.

His breath slowly curled over her skin, raising goose bumps. Chills raced up her spine, mingling with the heat in her belly.

"Kind of." She responded as evenly as she could.

"Well, I don't care." Castle replied. "You are mine, Kate – and I know that sounds terribly anti-feminist and caveman-esque but as I said I don't care. This body…" Here his dark gaze dropped down to her toes and worked its way back up to her eyes, causing another shiver to course through her, "Is just one piece of you, and I'm lucky enough that you've given me the opportunity to be with you – in every sense of the word. That's not something I take lightly, Kate. I'm yours, and you're mine, and that's quite simply all there is to it. And I defend what's mine. Even if it's from namby-pamby avant-garde art students who don't shower."

Beckett laughed in spite of herself. "That is terribly cliché."

"The description of the students? Or my jealousy?"

"Both." Beckett grinned. "But I like it."

Castle took that as permission and slipped his hands underneath the sheet. Beckett pressed her lips together, stifling her whimper but not completely hiding it. Castle's hands came up and undid the tie at her breasts, sending the sheet cascading to the floor. Beckett was surrounded by cold air (had it been that cold before? She hadn't noticed) and the need to feel him. Their eyes were locked and it was as if in a trance she pulled off his shirt (a form-fitting dark green pullover sweater, to help him blend in with the other students) and pressed her palms against his chest. He was as hot as she felt.

Reaching around her, Castle cupped her ass and pulled her to him, pressing their lower bodies firmly together. "You feel that, Kate?" He breathed, his voice as tense and stretched as a rubber band about to break. "That's what you do to me. That what just looking at you has done to me."

Beckett opened her mouth to reply, but Castle dove in, his hand coming up to tangle in her hair and grip the base of her skull, holding her in place for his onslaught. Beckett made that tiny sound in her throat, the one that always signified her overwhelming pleasure. He'd heard it first on their undercover kiss, and ever since getting together he'd made it his personal mission to draw that sound out of her as much as possible. Now he pulled that sound and more from her throat as she wrapped her arms around him, her whole body trembling with heat and need.

"I'd love to be the big man and good boyfriend and let you do your thing Kate, but I can't. I just… can't. Not when I finally have you." Castle's mouth was so close to her ear that every time his lips moved they brushed against the soft shell.

Beckett tugged his head so that his face was pressed into her neck and her mouth was at his ear. "Are you all talk Rick, or are you going to do something about it?" She demanded.

Castle practically threw her onto the podium she'd been lounging on for the past hour, climbing on top of her before she could utter a word of protest. Not that she was planning on it. Beckett slipped her arms around his neck as Castle undid his pants, adding them to the pile of discarded clothing at the base of the podium.

"Why do you think I'm fine with assignments like these, Castle?" Beckett asked, running her hands over his back. She reached up and cupped his cheek so that he had no choice but to look at her. "It's because you are rarely sexier then when you're jealous."

Castle's eyes did that fish-out-of-water bulging thing, but then he lowered his lids and his eyes darkened, and he pinned her with his entire body, pressing them together until not an inch of skin was untouched or a bit of space lay between them.

"You are a minx, Katherine Beckett." He ground out, his teeth clenched.

"And you wouldn't have me any other way." Beckett smirked.

Castle snapped. He attacked her body with his mouth and hands, kissing and sucking and licking and massaging and doing his damndest to turn her into a gibbering pile of nothing because it was time for him to have the upper hand for a change. Beckett wrapped herself around him as tightly as she could, writhing and gasping and arching underneath his ruthless assault. It must have only been a couple of minutes but it felt like years, she was so turned on and ready and she would regret teasing him except that it felt so good…

Fortunately, Castle was a man who made good on his promises, and when he finally deemed her utterly wrecked and his point made, he wasted no time in getting to the main event. Beckett sensed that he was ready to slow down and savor things, but she was in no mood for that, and made every effort on her part to keep things as fast-paced as they had begun. Her feverish, expeditious movements and rapid pace were infectious, and Castle quickly picked up the tempo to match her.

By the time her climax hit, Beckett was too exhausted to even scream. She threw her head back, definitely making something in her spine crack, her mouth falling open as the air was forced out of her lungs on a burst of breath. Castle literally collapsed on top of her, needing a second before his shaky arms would allow him to raise himself up off of her and allow her to breathe again.

"That… was amazing." He declared, still breathing heavily.

"Uh-huh." That was pretty much all that Beckett could manage at the moment.

"I was going to demand that Gates never have you do something like this again, but…" Castle eyed her.

Beckett laughed. "Oh, really? Suffering through the throes of jealousy is all right if we have mind-blowing sex afterwards?"

Castle made a scandalized face and a shocked noise that was a little too Martha-like. "But of course!" He declared.

Rolling her eyes affectionately, Beckett managed to sit up. Hoo boy. She was going to be paying for this session in the gym later. Her thighs were still trembling.

"If you can manage to stand, Castle, we need to get out of here and report to Gates." Beckett said.

"And after that?" Castle asked, already buoyant and energetic again.

"After that, we can go home and collapse and watch television." Beckett said decisively. "I'm beat."

"For now." Castle waggled his eyebrows.

And Beckett couldn't help but laugh.

And, once again, I am out of ideas for this one! Such a pity. Anyhow, I hope that you enjoyed this lovely little smutfest, and I hope that you'll check out my other stuff! Drop me a review on your way out if possible; I do so love to hear from you guys. Thanks for reading!