Clandestine

The arm comes from out of nowhere, a hand snagging hers, tugging, and it's not really from out of nowhere, rather from out of the supply closet and it is his hand, strong and warm against her palm; her stomach bursts into flutters and she is yanked inside, tumbles against his chest, so solid underneath her fingertips. Kate sucks in a stumbling breath and then he's got her against the door, shutting it with her shoulders and the force of their bodies slamming into it.

His arm around her waist, his fingers carding through the strands of her hair and he's kissing her again, his mouth hot and fast on hers, feasting on her lips, his tongue delving deep, drawing from her almost desperately and she digs her fingers into his chest, her other hand at his cheek, his ear, his neck, tucking him closer, closer. It's been so long, too long since they said good morning in the stairwell, hours since she last kissed him; well maybe two hours, but two hours filled with glances and soft smiles and secret little touches and behaving, and oh god he needs to do that thing with his tongue again, right now.

She tugs on his ear, frantic, needy and he gives her what she needs, all instinct as he strokes, twirls his tongue around hers. She mewls; her knees buckle and she slumps down the door like a rag doll but he pulls her back up, into his arms. Shifting a leg between her thighs he steadies her and the pressure is so good, so good against her that she can't stop it, helplessly rocks her hips against him. The groan that rumbles up from his chest is laced with dark need, setting her skin on fire and she drops her head back, granting access to his exploring mouth as he kisses, nibbles along her jawline and down the column of her neck.

"Castle." She jerks against him when his teeth graze a muscle strand, sending frissons through her blood, and how are they doing this, how do they burn so hot in virtually no time; how did they survive not doing this for four years?

"You…" She sighs, ruffles her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as his lips find her collarbone. "…drive me crazy."

He lifts his head, holding her hips steady within the tight grip of his hands, stares at her with fiery passion.

Kate shifts against him, delicately grazes her fingertips along his cheek, under his eyes, over the shape of his mouth, and his skin feels feverish to her touch.

"You always have," she admits softly. It's astounding, she thinks inanely, how that one word so perfectly describes all that they were with, for, to each other. What they are, and always have been.

He smiles, slow and sweet, understanding and admiration both, and then he cradles her against him; tugs her face into the curve of his neck while his fingers run up and down her back in soothing caresses. Calming the delirious firestorm inside her until she tingles with only the low steady glimmer of latent arousal.

She hums into his skin. "We should go back." She points listlessly at the door behind her, her arm limp and heavy. She really, really doesn't want to leave the comfort of his enticingly broad chest against her.

"Yeah," he croaks, clears his throat. "Yes."

Slowly they pull apart; he stares at her while he shifts her off his leg and she tries to find her footing, reaches for the door knob behind her.

"Hold on." He grins, and runs his fingers through the strands of her hair, careful and attentive, untangling the mussed-up curls. Then he swipes his thumb over the corners of her lips.

"Better," he murmurs, and sucks the pad of his thumb into his mouth.

Heat flares in her abdomen once more, fast and vicious in its attack and she looks up, finds his eyebrow quirked up suggestively; he knows exactly what he's doing to her, the power he has over her.

Kate smirks. Two can play that game. She ambles closer once more, runs a fingertip over his chest in slow, slow circles. She looks at him from under her eyelashes, lets her eyes drift to his lips, just a quick flick, then back to his eyes as she speaks low, lets her words float from her mouth alluringly.

"You coming, Castle?"

Something is different. He can't put his finger on it yet but something is… different. It seems to flicker in the air.

"Yo, Ryan," he calls his partner. The other man looks up from the paperwork on his desk, and Esposito beckons him closer.

"What's up with them?" He asks when his partner leans next to him against the desk, nodding his head toward the break room.

Ryan surreptitiously glances through the break room windows, observes Beckett and Castle in there for a few moments. "Seems normal to me." He shrugs his shoulders.

"Hmm." Esposito watches them again. Castle is making coffee, steaming milk while Beckett is leaning against the counter, smiling at him, talking. Normal. They've always been flirting with each other, and he's seen how brightly Beckett has been smiling at him for a long time, and Castle has always been putty when it comes to her anyway. So yeah, normal, except… not quite.

"Why?" Ryan's question pulls him out of his reverie.

"Something is different," he fills in his partner, strokes his chin reflectively. They both stare through the blinds once more.

"And they keep disappearing today."

Then Beckett looks up, finds them watching through the blinds, narrows her eyes and they scurry apart like two little boys who were caught with their hands in the cookie jar. He waves a file at Ryan, pretends he was discussing a case.

But Esposito is undeterred. Something is up, he can feel it. And he will get to the bottom of it.

She leans against the table, stares at the murder board but nothing. Nothing pops, no connections, it doesn't make any sense.

Castle sidles close, sits next to her on the edge of the table and their legs touch from hip to knee. Warmth crawls along her skin, tingles through her bloodstream and she turns, flicks her eyes up at him. He smiles that sweet charming smile, infused with such tenderness that her cheeks flare with heat.

"Anything new?"

"No." She shakes her head, trains her eyes forward to take in the available information.

Castle's hand brushes against her lower back, his fingers trailing just above the waistband of her pants and she curves her spine into his touch, sucks in air.

"Nothing. No known address still." Her voice sounds wobbly even to her own ears and she tries to focus, surreptitiously glances around, but there is nobody close by to see them. "Financials were clean..."

His fingers sneak underneath the edge of her button-up shirt and then they graze along her skin, setting off sizzling sparks underneath her skin and she gasps on her next words. "No co- connection between the victim and the robbery."

He scratches lightly against her spine with his fingernail, then along the edge of her waistband and she shivers, shifts into his touch, needing more, please more and her insides flood with heavy, viscous need. God if he doesn't stop this she will be the one that's going to come.

"Well," he says, trailing his fingers over to her waist, "it's still early."

Kate kisses him again by the copier. Pulls him close by the collar of his shirt, into the alcove that houses the machine, pushes him against the wall this time and kisses him, hot and quick, breathing fire against his lips with her fingernails leaving thin red half moon imprints at the sides of his neck. He has to close the top button later to hide them.

Castle runs his fingers along the back of her hand when they all sit in the conference room, the table filled with photos and scattered information, and he knows nobody is able to see when he slowly draws along her thin bones, trails the shape of her veins, then up her fingers and back. She shifts restlessly in her seat, and when everybody is leaving, he tugs a finger into her belt loop, pulls her toward him, lays a soft, lingering kiss onto her lips and she sighs against him.

They find excuses to touch, linger, tease all day, and the air is charged, frissons with humming electricity.

Castle finds her in the file room.

"Took you long enough," she murmurs teasingly as she wraps her arms around him from behind, leans her forehead against his spine.

He lays his hands on top of hers where they rest against his chest, feels her unwind and relax against him. She breathes onto the skin of his neck in a steady pattern, warm bursts that make his heart flutter in bliss.

Finally she circles around his body, her hands holding on to his waist until her chest is aligned with his. She tilts forward and kisses him.

It's soft this time, slow and sweet and languid as she thoroughly explores his mouth, investigates with her tongue, her lips, while her fingers tenderly draw nonsensical patterns onto the skin of his cheeks and he tingles all over, falls under her spell, like he always has.

"I've missed you," he mumbles against her; it's only been a couple of hours but he did, he missed her, missed this. She kisses the words off his lips, tugs them between hers, sucks on the flesh and his knees go wobbly. Smiling sweetly against his lips, she deepens her kiss once more, lazily plays with his mouth.

They leave like they do so many days. She turns off her computer, locks up papers and information in her desk. He rises, holds open her coat for her and she slips her arms into it, pulls out her hair from underneath the collar.

Esposito grins, wonders for a moment whether they are aware how much they are already acting like a married couple. Then his eyes narrow, observing them again as they walk toward the elevator together. The same distance between them as they walk, just like every day, no closer, no touching, just casual conversation. Castle talking animatedly with his hands, Beckett smiling at him from the side and Esposito can almost see the affectionate eye roll she throws toward her partner.

Still, he's not convinced. Something is going on.

Oh well. Esposito grabs his own coat, throws it over his shoulder as he walks through the bullpen. Tomorrow is another day. He'll find out eventually.

TBC