- 1 -

Based on a Tumblr prompt submitted to Castlefanficprompts; prompt posted at the end.

He clutches the slim, inconspicuously stylish box against his chest as he sprints up the stairs, taking them two at a time; didn't have any patience to wait for the elevator down in the lobby. He's panting; he's pretty sure he's never been quite that fast in and out of a boutique successfully. He's a little proud of himself, if he's honest, just hoping this will make up for his earlier clumsiness. As much as they bicker and tease and play off each other, he hates actually making her life harder, tries his best to fix what he can if he messed up.

He hurries along the hallway when he reaches the top of the stairs, knocks quickly, two raps in rapid succession while he pushes open the door the changing rooms.

"Beckett, are you in here? I've brought you- Oh, you're, uhm-" He freezes in his steps, standing stock-still, his mouth suddenly parched. "Naked. I mean, mostly-"

"Castle!" She hisses, her arms crossed tightly over her bra-clad chest, eyes glaring daggers at him and he doesn't know where to look, his eyes skimming along that glorious, pale skin, the slim lines of her waist disappearing into the waistband of her pants, back up to her face where he's met with her glare, then quickly dropping his gaze down to the ground, staring fixedly at her shoes.

"Turn around!"

He whirls around instantly, eyes focused on the door, only the door and nothing but the door, the crack running through it about two thirds up, the perfect tear-drop shaped runner of dried paint in utilitarian steel-grey below the handle, his heart hammering against his ribcage so hard that he can barely breathe normally.

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I brought you-" He holds out his arm, the cardboard box clasped in his hand. "Uhm, a shirt. Because I ruined- You know-"

"You…" He hears her exhale, feels more than hears her take an automatic step further away. "You bought me a shirt?"

He nods, his arm starting to tingle from his over-extended elbow, waiting through seemingly interminably long seconds of stillness with only the soundtrack of her breathing until at last she's carefully stepping closer. He can feel her presence behind him, the warmth emanating from her skin as she tucks the box from his hand.

"Thank you." She sounds a little shell-shocked, still, and he's not sure whether it's in a good way. He wishes she'd expect more from him; he'd give her everything, if only she'd let him.

"I'll, uhm-" God, when did he get this incoherent, unable to form whole sentences? "I'm gonna go now." And then he's practically running, the door slamming shut behind him as he falls against it with his back, desperately trying to regulate his rapid breathing.

She blushes furiously when their eyes meet as she comes down the stairs into the bullpen and he thinks he's staring with his mouth hanging open because the new white blouse fits her perfectly, the silk hugging the lithe lines of her body like a tentative caress and she's just so-

"Beautiful." The word flies out of his mouth before he's censored his thoughts and she's staring at him with wide eyes, her teeth skating across her bottom lip in that way that makes his stomach clench and his blood unfurl, pounding vividly through his body.

"Thank you." Her voice is intimate whisper and he feels as if they are the only people in the world, has to remind himself that they're standing in the middle of the bullpen with practically two dozen pairs of eyes on them.

"For the shirt, I mean." Kate runs a hand down her side, curling around her waist and really, she's got to stop doing that. "It's gorgeous."

He can't help but reach out, sliding his thumb and index finger along the soft silk encasing her wrist, the fabric warmed from the heat of her skin, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse. "You're welcome," he husks, his voice no longer under his mastery and she's staring at him, her eyes wide and more amber than he's ever seen before.

"It fits perfectly," she whispers.

"I have a good eye."

She smiles, the Beckett he knows breaking through. "You do stare a lot."

He shrugs. "Can't help it." He meant to be playful but it comes out raw and earnest and she startles, her breath hitching in her chest.

"I should… I should go. Back to work." She's tugging her hand back from him and he nods helplessly, letting her pass.

But his heart keeps hammering and he can still feel her heartbeat beneath her skin, the spark of 'something' in her eyes and hell, he thinks, in for a penny, right?

"Kate." He calls her back quietly but the use of her first name gets her attention. She turns for him, eyes wide and questioning, and he sucks in a deep breath, lets it spill forth with the anxious question surging from his chest.

"Would you like to go for a drink? Tonight? With me?"

And later that night, after several drinks with their bodies smudged tightly against each other in a dark, intimate booth she presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, the promise of more shining tangibly in her eyes, and he thinks he'd buy her a thousand new shirts if only she keeps looking at him like that.

Prompt: After the coffee-spilling incident in 2x11, Castle goes to Beckett to apologize, only to find her shirtless.

Thank you for reading!