He was laying a series of open mouth kisses to her shoulder and something inside her, something deep down, told her she should stop him, but she couldn't find the strength. It felt too good to make him quit. When he reached her collarbone and nipped at the skin there, she shuddered in his arms and threw her head back, wanting to give him full access to her neck.

He took her invitation and sucked at her skin before swirling his tongue over her flesh in a delightful, tantalizingly slow motion.

"Rick," she breathed, the word tumbling from her lips on the tail end of a sigh as she buried her hands in his, oh so, soft hair.

She was moving backwards, propelled by his large, solid form. She felt the desk behind her, her desk, in the middle of the twelfth precinct, where she worked. All these things nagged at her unrelentingly, but still she couldn't push him away. She couldn't end this. She wanted it too badly.

His mouth was causing her to take leave of her senses. This wasn't the place for this. He was her partner, her best friend. There was no place that was appropriate for this but this, here, at her job, was definitely off-limits.

His hands had worked their way under her white, form-fitting sweater and found the taut, smooth skin of her stomach. The feel of his fingertips gliding over her was too much and it inspired another groan from somewhere in the vicinity of her soul.

God, she wanted him, wanted him like she'd never wanted anything in her life. It was too much for her too process and certainly too much for her to fight against. She wanted him, needed him, craved him and she meant to have him. Right here if that was what it took. It had been too long. There had been too many close calls, too much innuendo, too much sexual tension between them. They had done a brilliant job of ignoring up to this point. Now the lust was going to have it's say. It had been patient. Now it was greedy, needy, wanton and far too strong to battle.

She wasn't even sure why she would want to. It, this, him, all felt too good. It was exactly as she'd imagined it would be and so much more.

He smelled like leather and expensive aftershave and man. Everything about him was just so male. She'd teased him before about being metro-sexual, but she'd been so wrong. There was nothing about him that wasn't masculine, virile, potent and powerful.

He made a noise as she tried to slide the brown leather jacket from his shoulders. It was too heavy. She couldn't feel him through the material. And she needed to feel him. She wanted to revel in his muscles bunching under her fingers, marvel in the feel of his skin against hers.

"Kate," he groaned when she finally achieved her victory and the material fell to the floor at their feet.

She moaned right back when he found the sweet spot under her ear and fluttered his tongue against it. She had no idea how he managed but he seemed to have a knack for knowing just exactly how she wanted to be touched. It was just the right amount of pressure when he sucked at her skin, just the right amount of force when he nipped at her flesh, just the right amount of moisture on his tongue when he flicked it over her in the just the right spots.

How had she waited this long for this? She's always known he'd be good at this. His long, nimble fingers had moved from her stomach to trace over the lace of her bra. He made a frustrated noise when her sweater hindered him. Then suddenly his hands left her and she felt him begin to tug the shirt up until he got it bunched up under her arms. As soon as it was out of the way, he dropped his head to her chest and took her straining nipple into his mouth through the material of her bra. The combination of his velvety tongue swirling over the hardened peak and the roughness of the lace made her stomach drop to the floor and her hands tighten in his hair. He hissed and she eased her grip, realizing that she was being a trifle rough.

"God, I want you so bad," he groaned and immediately backed up the statement with the evidence of his arousal as he pushed his hips into hers.

She should stopped him. She needed to stop him. The nagging voice in her head was driving her to distraction and she so did not want to be distracted. She wanted to let him fill her up, drive every doubt and insecurity from her mind with the power of his devotion to her. She knew he could. If she could just let go and let him take charge, he could take her to places she'd never even imagined before.

This thing, these emotions that had been building between them since the first time she laid eyes on him was huge, all-consuming and the scariest thing she'd ever witnessed. She could so easily lose herself in him. She could make him her world. It would be too simple, especially since she was just beginning to realize that he was all she wanted, all she needed. Never, not once in her entire life, had she looked at someone and felt the things she felt for him.

The perfection of everything about him, even the things that drove her crazy, was even scarier. She might have created him, conjured him out of her mind and somehow, through some unknown magic, made him real. She had never fit so wholly and entirely with anyone else. They were two pieces of puzzle that seemed to snap together in utter and complete harmony.

He ground his hips into her again and it instantly brought her mind back to the things he was doing to her body. All other things aside, physically, she had never been with someone who could make her feel the things she was feeling right then. Always before there was a part of her still in control. But now, she could feel herself spiraling. All her resolve, her presence of mind, her very will was taken up by him. Nothing mattered to her except his hands on her hips, digging into her flesh, his mouth on her breast, tasting her as if she were the finest delicacy, his body pressed into hers, so solid and firm and strong.

The ache in her belly, the one that cried out for more, demanded that he keep touching her, was hotter than any fire. It burned her from the inside with a need so powerful she felt herself shaking uncontrollably.

He was trembling, too. She could feel the tremors as his hands moved up her sides and replaced his mouth at her breast. He cupped them in his palms, holding them as if testing their weight in his hands. His thumbs brushed over her nipples and she shuddered again.

Her palms were almost itching with the need to feel his skin under her fingers. She let her hands fall from his hair and down his back. Once there, she fumbled for a moment with his shirt, tugging it from his waistband before sliding underneath. Her fingers splayed over his back and she delighted in finally getting to feel his muscles tensing and clenching as he moved.

Finally, he found her lips with his once again. That was what had started this whole thing. She didn't know why he'd suddenly kissed her out of the blue, but he had and the minute their mouths connected, it was over. There was no stopping either of them. The last time they'd kissed, the first time actually, there was plenty of reasons, important, life-threatening reasons, to end it. Now there were no partners being held and tortured. There was no bad guy baring down on them. There was no crisis lurking over their heads. And there was no act, no pretending. They were kissing each other simply because they wanted or rather, needed to be kissing each other.

Now she was the one growing impatient and frustrated over the material of his shirt that blocked her movements and hindered her process as she tried to feel all of him. She wished desperately that she could just rip the damn thing from his body. Then instantly, as if something up above had heard her prayer, it was gone and his smooth skin was hers for the taking.

He made a low throaty noise as her fingers glided over his back and ground his hips into hers once again. She was more or less sitting on the edge of the desk now, trapped between the hard wood behind her and the hard body in front of her. She had a sudden, irrational desire to wrap her legs around his waist. This wasn't the place for that. She shouldn't. She knew that. Then again, this really wasn't the place for her to be plunging her tongue as deeply into his mouth as she could get it, either. The desire was stronger than her resolve and before she could stop herself, that is exactly what she did. She wrapped her legs around him and used them to pull his body tighter against hers. Another deep, low, desperate sounding groan from him said he approved of the move.

She expected someone to say something any moment now. They were in the middle of the precinct, and Castle was shirtless, for God's sake. Surely, someone, Ryan, Esposito, someone would stop them. She wished someone would, in fact. It was the only way this was going to end. She knew that. Neither of them had any intention of stopping it themselves. They needed to be acted on by an outside force. Newton's Law at work, two objects in motion will stay in motion until something or someone stopped them. Or something like that. Honestly Newton was the last person on her mind as his hand came up to cup her cheek, shifting her head to give him a better angle as he continued to kiss her with everything inside of him.

She moved her hands to his chest, taking a moment to be flabbergasted by the feel of all that new skin under her fingertips.

"Kate," he groaned when she broke his kiss and found his earlobe. He bucked against her as she pulled it into her mouth. "Kate," he said again and this time there was something of an urgency in his tone. She wanted to pull back, to look into his face and find out what the problem was, but she just couldn't make herself do it. "KATE!"

In that instant he was gone. As soon as cold reality set in she realized she was lying on her couch, an afghan her grandmother had crocheted draped over her and her father hovering at her shoulder. He was shaking her gently, yet persistently.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but you have a phone call," He was shoving her phone at her and she blinked groggily before finally taking it and putting it to her ear.

"Beckett," she snapped, albeit sleepily, into the receiver.

"Were you sleeping?" Lanie asked. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, it's fine. I was just napping," she answered, swinging her legs over the side of the couch and sitting up gingerly. Her shoulder hurt. Her shoulder always hurt nowadays. The doctors said it would pass in time and the physical therapy was helping, but there was still a dull ache there every minute, as if it were reminding her how close she'd come to losing her life in that cemetery four weeks earlier.

"How about some lunch? I was thinking about hitting Houlihan's and I know it's your favorite," her friend offered.

Kate glanced at her father still standing at her shoulder like he was waiting for a cue from her. She nodded towards him and gave him a smile. He seemed to be trying to make up for all the times he hadn't been there in the past few years. He'd been at her beck and call since she'd come home from the hospital. In all honesty, he was smothering her and getting away for a little while sounded really good to her.

"Sure, lunch sounds good. I'll meet you there," she answered.

Once she hung up, Jim Beckett smiled at her. "I was going to make you some soup and a sandwich."

"Dad, you don't have to keep doing all this. I'm fine, really I am." She did her best to keep her tone gentle and light. She didn't want him to think she was grateful for all the attention. "Lanie wants to take me out for lunch. I'll only be gone a little while. Why don't you get some rest while I'm out?"

He nodded tiredly. "Alright," Walking to the armchair beside the couch, he sank into it bonelessly. "I guess I could use a little rest."

Taking the afghan from around her, she got to her feet and draped it over him instead. "Of course you could. You've been pushing yourself for the last month. You have to remember that you're an old man," she teased him.

She almost made it to her room before he stopped her. "I was hoping that it was your friend Rick calling. I haven't heard from him in a while. Have you?"

She shook her head sadly. "No. He calls in every few days to check on me, but I haven't seen him in weeks. I don't know what's going on either. Why were hoping it was Castle calling?"

Her father turned and offered her an earnest expression. "He's good for you, Katie."

Kate eyed him for a moment before coming back to sit on the couch. "Good for me how?"she asked.

Clearly, her father had something to say to her. It was written all over his face and she owed him a moment of listening for all he'd done for her in the last weeks.

Jim sat forward and rested his hands on his knees. "Kate, what I have to say, you might not like, but I think it's time it was said." She nodded, telling him she understood and encouraging him to continue. "It's just that, since your mother died, it's like there's this hole in you. It's in both of us, actually, but you're too young to live with a hole like that. You shut yourself off from anything that might make you happy because somewhere inside you, you've convinced yourself that it's never going to last."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off before she could. "I am not wrong. I know exactly how you feel. I'm right there with you. I understand better than anyone else could." He leaned even further forward and took her hands in his, giving them a squeeze. "You have to stop pushing everyone that loves you away."

"I don't push people away," she interjected, but it sounded lame and hollow even as it left her lips.

"You do, you know you do. Rick Castle loves you. It's written all over his face every time he looks at you. And he makes you happy. That's written all over yours. Find out what's going on with him and fix it before it's too late. People like Rick don't waltz into your life for no reason. And when you look love in the face and turn away from it, all it does is make you old and bitter and lonely like me."

She could feel the bitter sting of tears biting at her eyes and brushed them quickly away. "Dad, I appreciate your concern. I really do, but Castle and I aren't together like that. He's just a friend."

"Is that his choice or yours?"

She was about to tell him that it wasn't a choice it was simply the way things were when he stopped her with that look. It was the look he used to give her when he knew she'd done something and was about to lie about it. He somehow always seemed to know when she wasn't telling the truth. "I guess it's mine." she amended at the last minute.

"Why?"

She huffed in frustration. "It's complicated."

"No, it isn't." he retorted. "It's the easiest thing in the world. You're mother was the love of my life. I'll never get over losing her, not ever. I've tried, but there was just something about her, about us, that I will never find again. I had so little time with her on the grand scale of things. The love of your life is right there and you're wasting your little time with him, wasting it by not taking a chance on it."

"The love of my life?" she guffawed. "Come on, I think that might be a little over the top, don't you think?"

"No, I don't," he answered, unblinkingly.

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat his seriousness inspired and got to her feet. "I'll think about all this. I promise I will. But right now, I have to go meet Lanie for lunch. Get some rest. I'll be back in a while."

They were halfway through lunch before she couldn't help herself any longer. "Have you seen Castle lately?" she asked a touch timidly and immediately hated herself for the trepidation in her tone.

Her lunch companion slowly sat her fork down and took up her glass of water instead. After taking a long drink, she cleared her throat and gave Kate a forced smile. "I just saw him last night, actually. Why? Haven't you seen him lately?"

Kate shrugged, trying for nonchalance and knowing she was failing miserably. But she was determined to hold on to this facade of not really caring for as long as Lanie would let her. "We've talked on the phone, but he wasn't been by."

"Since when?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Since I came home from the hospital."

Lanie nodded knowingly. "So, since Josh and Castle came to blows and you jumped in firmly on Josh's side, yelling for all the world to hear about how Castle was just 'your partner and nothing more'?"

Kate looked down at her lap, then off into the distance before finally nodding in agreement. "Yeah, right about then." Then she squared her shoulders and quickly tried to regained her ground. "But I broke up with Josh right after that, that should count for something."

Lanie shook her head. "It does. He's still calling you, right?"

"Yes, but you should hear his tone. It's all so... professional."

Lanie smiled her first genuine smile since the conversation began. "Isn't that what you said was between you? You're just partners, nothing more?"

"But he knows I didn't mean that. He's my friend. No offense but he's probably my best friend. He has to know that," Kate protested.

"Why's that? Because you've been so forthcoming with your feelings?"

"You know how bad I am at this. He knows how bad I am at this. This shouldn't surprise anyone." Kate shifted uncomfortably when her friend refused to comment and instead just kept eying her carefully. "Alright, I messed up," she admitted finally. "How do I fix it?"

"You tell him that he's your best friend. Talk to him. Right now, he's hurt. You hurt him, Kate. You're going to have to make up for that," Lanie answered.

"I hurt him? Do you really think so?" Kate asked, appalled by the thought. She'd never meant to hurt him. In all honesty, everything at the hospital with Josh and Rick had happened so fast, she hadn't been thinking when she jumped in. She certainly hadn't meant for Rick to think she didn't appreciate him.

"I know so," Lanie nodded.

Kate looked away from her, then back again and cleared her throat. "I've been thinking," she began.

"Uh-oh," Lanie muttered under her breath.

Kate smirked at her sarcastically in return. Then started again. "My father seems to think that there might be something more going on between us."

"Between you and Castle? Duh."

Kate huffed impatiently. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"So am I. There was been something going on between the two of you for years now."

"So what do I do about it?"

Lanie sat up and took her another drink from her glass before setting it down. When she looked back at Kate her eyes were filled with something Kate wasn't sure how to describe. Regret, pity, perhaps?

"I think it might be a little bit too late for you to do anything about it," her friend confided at last.

Kate's eyes widen in shock. "Why? What does that mean?"

" Javie and I had dinner with him last night, Kate. He wasn't alone," Lanie said, quietly.

"He had a date?"

"Yeah, he had a date and from the looks of it, they were pretty close."

Kate leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "Tell me everything."