For Shannon,

who liked second person

and will always be my first.

You wake up with a start, sitting bolt upright in your bed, your hand sweeping out to the side. Searching for something. You can't remember what, and then she slips through the door and your heart starts hammering, the previous night coming back to you in a rush of choking desire.

"So it wasn't a dream," you say, because it's far, far too early to ask her to marry you.

She grins at you from across the room and you're entranced, endlessly fascinated by this brand new side to her. The fluid legs, hair soft around her face and rain curled. You want to stay right here in this moment because even if you could have this, just this, for a hundred years, you still wouldn't have soaked everything in.

She advances towards you, her slender frame drowning in your shirt. "I don't know Castle, maybe you're still dreaming." She smirks, stops at the foot of the bed. The cuffs of your shirt fall down over her hands and she curls her fingers around them, stretches out her arms as if to say 'what next?', the movement so adorable you can't wait a moment longer.

"Come here." She beams at you, so very lovely. You're desperate to taste her smile, your hands reaching out to her. She reaches your side, sinks down onto your bed with one knee bent underneath her, the other foot resting on the floor.

You look down at it, her slender toes, the nails coated in chipped polish like cracks in paving stones. Then back up to her face because you can't bear more than a few moments without looking at her. You cup her cheek; brush her hair back behind her ear so you can see her face properly. "Hey."

She flushes, her cheeks blooming with a delightful pink you're so well acquainted with now. The things you did last night-

Yeah. You gave her good reason to blush.

"Hi. You okay?" Her voice cuts you through, leaves you wide open for her to see. So sexy in the morning. You know what it sounds like when your name breaks apart in her mouth and you want to hear it again and again and again.

You grin at her, feel the lines at the corners of your eyes, a guide to your life's happiness. "Yes. Yeah. Just can't believe you're really here."

She grows serious, leans in to you with a palm on your bare chest for balance. Her mouth finding your bottom lip so tenderly, letting you taste her. She smiles against you and you're caught up in the way it feels to have the curve of her joy press to your cheek and slide down, nestle against your neck.

It hits you with a start that she's hiding and you wrap your hands around her biceps, push her far enough away that you can meet her eyes. "Don't be shy."

She looks down at her hands, picking at a fingernail. "I just can't believe we really did that."

You won't laugh at her. Not when she's echoing your own thoughts so exactly. "Me neither." You pause; wait for the air to settle around your insecurities. "I've wanted to kiss you again since the first time."

"So you liked it?" She can't meet your eyes. You're not sure how to reconcile this shy creature in front of you with your extraordinary detective, but you'll gladly spend the rest of your life trying.

You lean forward, into her, try to convey your joy, the chorus of your body's effervescence. "Yeah."

She smiles, then, her eyes sliding up to meet yours. "Me too."

"I know," you say, and her eyes widen, the peach of the early morning sunlight casting them so green, limning her lashes. "You moaned."

She startles, watches your face for a second. You feel naked, more so than when she undid your buttons one by one, her mouth punctuating each stop, your hands twining into her hair. "Huh." She sucks her lip into her mouth, teeth biting. "I guess I did."

She has only fastened three of the buttons of your shirt and you take it as an invitation, your hand reaching for her. As you undo each button you press a kiss to her forehead in holy trinity, and then the fabric falls away and your breath catches in shock like cold water.

Your head bows, your forehead meeting hers and your hand coming up. Your knuckles skim her stomach and you smile as her muscles flutter. "You are so very beautiful."

She smells like the rain still, like earth, like a catharsis. When her mouth meets yours, so carefully reverent, your palms cup her shoulders and tug her in to you. Her bare skin against yours is so perfect you could weep.

You lie back slowly, tugging her with you. She comes easily, soft and pliant, her body following yours. You lie her down next to you, your mouth tracing the terrain of her skin, tongue lapping at the pool of her navel. She whimpers, a raw keening all in her throat, her hips bucking.

You splay your palm across her stomach, thumb stroking back and forth over her ribs. You're entranced by the architecture of her body, the grace of her bones, the way her skin forms over them. The hollows and the planes and the arcs and curves, all of it a landscape you'll cherish, again and again kiss.

You move to engulf her body with your own, her knees falling open to bracket your thighs. You press your nose to her clavicle, your tongue darting out to taste her. You hum into her skin and she laughs, her hands sliding through your hair.

Your scalp prickles under her touch, her nails sharp jolts of electricity that make your hips move against hers. "Oh, Castle." Her voice a wash of breath over your cheek.

You kiss her eyelid, the translucent skin so warm, her lashes fluttering at your chin. It's so quiet here in this moment, so still that you can hear a heartbeat thump in your veins, unsure whether it's hers or your own.

Your hand slides around underneath her, hot at her lumbar curve, tugging her up into you. You kiss the tip of her nose, grin when she blinks. She looks so surprised, her eyes wide and her lips parted. "What?" You smile, kiss the freckle under her eye.

"Nothing." She lifts her head so she can kiss you, draws your mouth down to hers, her tongue hot and feverish. "I just didn't know it could be like this."

"Like what?" You've given up trying not to nuzzle her, your nose buries in the hollow of her throat and you kiss her chest.

She kisses your forehead, slender fingers brushing your hair back. "So peaceful. I don't know. Quiet. Tender."

You chuckle into her ribs, grinning wider when she squirms. "I'm just trying to convince myself you're real."

She kisses you again and you taste in it everything she doesn't say, the way she tries to convince you. And then she stills underneath you, her fingers clenching at your sides. "What?"

She pushes you off of her, sitting up and pulling your shirt closed, frantically fastening buttons. "I heard something. The door."

"Richard?" Shit. Just like that, your beautiful moment with the woman you love has shattered. Your mother's voice is too sharp, grating up against your nerve endings.

You climb out of bed, find boxer shorts and jeans, tug them on. Turn to the woman in your bed and card a hand through her hair, darting in to kiss her once more. "I'm sorry. I'll try to get rid of her."

She sighs, hooks a finger through your belt loop. "Don't. This is her house too. I'm a big girl, I can take it. Just let me get dressed."

You grin, rake your eyes over her and she swats at you, pushes you towards the door. "Go. Before she comes in here."

You tense at that. You don't want anyone else to see Kate like this; you want her sleepy serenity to stay just yours. You hurry through your study to the living room, see your mother standing next to the couch with her bags at her feet.

She beams at you, accepts your embrace and kisses both your cheeks. She pauses a moment and you wonder if she can smell Kate on you the way you can. "Mother. What are you doing back from the Hamptons."

She shrugs, her hands upturned. "The weather was not to my liking." You shoot her a look and she sighs, deflating in front of you. "I'm sorry, darling. I couldn't relax, thinking of you here nursing a broken heart."

You open your mouth to argue with her but nothing comes out, because really, that's exactly what you had been doing. Until Kate showed up at the door and took your heart into her hands, held it next to her own.

"And I wanted to be here, in case anything happened to-" she cuts herself off, her gaze caught on something behind your shoulder.

You turn around and your heart jumps in your chest, erratic. Kate's standing there in last night's jeans and your shirt, tucked in and buttoned up. She looks delicious. You want to take her by the hand and lead her back to your bed and keep her there for hours.

"Kate, darling, what a pleasant surprise," your mother exclaims, her eyes warm with genuine delight. "I do hope I'm interrupting something?"

Kate reaches your side, blushing, her hand twining with yours. "Martha." She beams at your mother, accepts her hug without letting go of your hand.

Your mother laughs quietly. "My goodness, look at the two of you. It hasn't quite sunk in, has it?"

"Mother." Your voice a quiet warning as Kate buries her face against your shoulder. You can feel the heat of her cheeks and you suddenly remember that you're not wearing a shirt.

Martha laughs and you sigh. "What? I think it's wonderful. Go on." She makes a shooing motion with her hands at you. "Go and let it sink in. I'll head back to the Hamptons."

She picks up her bags and slips out of the front door, waving at the two of you as she closes it. Kate groans into your skin. "Could that have been more uncomfortable?"

You smile sheepishly at her, your fingers playing with her hair. "Just wait until Alexis finds out."

She groans. You take her back to the bedroom.

She lets out a very different sort of groan.