Ink

It takes her a good forty minutes to realize he's not hanging around, squirming in his chair at her desk, popping up his scapula like wings in an effort to ease the vicious itch of his skin.

Forty minutes of bliss, absolute and dedicated concentration to the murder board, to the stack of financials she is still wading through, and to this crazy and twisted case.

Floaties. Nowhere near a pool. What in the world was this guy doing?

Forty minutes and she's got a couple of strange coincidences and a feeling in her gut that might actually have nothing to do with this case. Might be a feeling about what he's up to. Castle.

She glances around the mostly empty bullpen, a flush of shame on her cheeks as she realizes she's done it to him again, kept him here later than usual when she knows he wanted to get home and write. He did bring his laptop this morning, but Gates doesn't like him setting up shop here, hanging out, so it limits his time.

She should've quit an hour ago. More.

Where is Castle?

For that matter, where are the boys?

Beckett puts the dry erase marker on her desk and heads past the desks towards the break room, hearing the faint sounds of all three males ensconced within. When she rounds the doorway, she finds Castle shirtless near the espresso machine, Ryan and Esposito - uh - well - um, touching him?

"Guys?" As if that might be in question.

Castle glances up at her, grins widely. "I'm showing them my tattoo."

Esposito flicks her a disappointed look. "I can't believe you let him do that."

"Hey, you have a tattoo," Castle growls, giving the man a look.

"Mine are cool," Espo snarks back.

"How are yours cool, but mine isn't?"

"Dude. Mine are military. Brotherhood."

Kate steps forward, eyeing Castle's broad chest, then glancing to the boys behind him, inspecting the tattoo. "Castle's is. . .brotherhood. Of a sort."

"Brotherhood of feathers."

She has this stupid urge to smack Esposito for that. But she doesn't. Ryan saves both his partner and hers by interrupting.

"I think it's sick," he says, grinning wickedly. Ryan is what? - using a throwback to ancient eighties culture? "Seriously sick, man."

Yes. Apparently boys act like teenagers when confronted with male posturing. Excellent.

She sighs. "Castle, put your shirt on."

"But it itches."

"Remember what I said?" she murmurs, glancing around for his shirt.

"Don't scratch," he sighs.

She presses her lips together, yanks his dress shirt from the back of the break room chair. "Besides that. I told you to slap it."

"But I can't reach back there to slap it. You do it."

Both Esposito and Ryan turn entirely too interested eyes to her. She steadies herself and shakes her head. "Get Ryan to do it."

"No. Ew. I'm not-"

"Slapping him?" Esposito laughs. "Dude, I will totally slap him. Anytime, Castle. You can call on me." He draws his arm back, circling his hand as if he's priming himself for a healthy smack.

Kate steps between them, glares at Espo who thinks it's so funny to be more macho than Castle. And Castle lets him get away with it - which she doesn't understand. Castle could totally take him.

Oh, well.

Hmm.

"That's why I suggested Ryan," Kate mutters, glancing at Castle to make sure he's okay, handing over his shirt. Yeah, all right, so she is coddling him a little, but he loves it. He burrows his way inside and doesn't let go. Like a hookworm.

A big, broad-shouldered, cute-eyes, amazing smile hookworm.

"You do it, Kate," he says quietly, those eyes pleading with her.

"I think maybe we should leave for this," Esposito sniggers.

Castle gives Esposito a look, as if he thinks that will scare her off. Like hell it will.

She turns to Espo. "Maybe you should. Close the door as you leave."

Ryan's mouth drops open; he starts to say something but Esposito is already dragging him out of the break room by his elbow.

Kate turns her eyes to Castle, sees the layers of lust and love and surprise in his face.

He throws his shirt past her; it lands on the table. "Shut the door, huh?"

She grins, knows it's feral and predatory just by the way he swallows hard and sways towards her, entrapped, arms hanging loose.

"You standing next to my espresso machine, shirtless? What do you think, Castle?"

"Irresistible," he murmurs, rich pleasure in his voice. So cocky.

She hums in return and slides her fingers lightly down his bare arms, nails against his wrists as she goes for his sides. His obliques tighten and his hips cant towards hers, sudden and suggestive. Kate places an open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone and licks, scrapes with her teeth.

He hisses a breath and leans in to snatch at her earlobe, her jaw with his mouth, messy, sloppy kisses that show just how out of control she can make him.

She slides her hands up his back, forgetting, and he stiffens.

"Itches, Kate. Seriously itches. You gotta-"

"Spank you?" she says.

He turns startled eyes to her, gasping through a couple of breaths, but she can't hold on to sexy. She breaks into laughter, feels it rolling through her.

"Oh, I've wanted to say that for ages, Castle. Oh man. Thanks. I needed that."

He growls at her. "You're a tease."

"I do believe you already knew that."

"But, at the same time, I think you also . . . have made good on quite a lot of those teases."

"Are you asking me. . .?"

"Yes, maybe I am."

Her turn to gasp at him.

Kate takes the keys out of his hands when his can't stop fumbling. Castle watches her fingers deftly maneuver the tumblers, then closes in on her neck, crowding her against his front door.

His apartment tonight. They're taking turns. It makes him smile.

And then it makes him nibble at the edge of her neck and slide his tongue down that tendon, suck at the spot he likes best as she grunts and arches into him. Yeah, like that Kate.

"Let me get - get the door," she pants. "Wait. Oh, please, not out here again."

But he loves making her so crazy for him that she'll do it out in the hallway. It's always his goal. Make Kate crazy.

"Ha," she gasps, and he can tell it meant to be triumphant, but it comes out breathy and delicious and so close to that other noise he loves, the one she says she doesn't make, the one that sounds like surprise and exhileration and sex.

"Ha?" he rumbles against her skin, a question that doesn't need an answer.

"Got it. Inside, Castle, get inside now-"

"Oh, yes ma'am," he growls, fingers reaching for the button of her dress pants. "Exactly where I want to be."

"No!" She darts away from him, eyes bright and cheeks stained, laughing as he backs her through the door and follows her into his loft. "You are so dirty-"

"Ahem. Uh. Hi, guys."

Ohhhhhh no.

Alexis.

Castle lifts his eyes from Kate and looks over her shoulder, meets his daughter's amused, slightly grossed out gaze. Kate groans and presses her forehead into his neck, slumping.

"Please tell me I did not just say that in front of your daughter," she mutters.

"Kate, uh, you might want to stop brushing your lips against my neck. Not helping."

She sitffens, jerks away from him, smacks his arm for the tease she sees on his face. She's good, but she's not that good. Not when his daughter is standing three feet from them. Instant cold shower.

"This isn't funny," Kate hisses, then turns around and gives Alexis a little wave.

Alexis presses her lips together, an eyebrow raised, but he can tell she's biting her lip to hold it in. "Hi. Kate. Dad. I got your email - you have something to show me?"

Her eyes are flicking to Kate. She steps forward as if she's going to take Kate's hand, and it hits him what she thinks this is about.

"Oh, no. No. Alexis." He steps past Kate, grabs his daughter by the shoulders. He kisses her cheek quickly, uses that movement as a cover to whisper to her. "Not a ring. I'd ask your permission first anyway."

"Well you have it," she murmurs, kissing his cheek in return. When he pulls back, Alexis is looking at him with both adoring and silly joy and also some disappointment. Which is actually good to see. He wasn't sure how she might react to something like that - which, oh no, they are so far away from. Kate is so far away from right now. Not going to happen - though the permission is a relief, but no. No.

"So what is it?" Alexis asks, peering up at him with that indulgent expression, eyes crinkled just like he knows his own do.

"I got a way cool tattoo!" he crows, beaming back at her.

Alexis looks past him to Kate. "You let him get a tattoo?"

"Hey. Why does everyone look at Kate like I need her permission?"

Alexis raises a slim eyebrow. "Dad. Seriously."

"Let me show you. It's awesome." He works at the buttons of his shirt, and in his eagerness, his fingers trip over the task. Kate comes up behind him and takes over, knocking his hands away with a sigh.

He grins down at her, absolutely delighted to find her doing this, intimate and close, with his daughter standing right here. Like it's natural, normal. Like she's got no more compunctions about it. Like it's okay if Alexis sees them together.

And that makes him happy.

Castle works at the top buttons, and then tugs his shirt up a little and pulls it half off, turning around to show his daughter.

She laughs. "What is that?"

He's about to get indignant and answer, but he feels Kate's fingers at his lower back, her body warm and close.

"It's actually really meaningful," she says quietly. He can't see Alexis, but he practically can feel her grow serious.

He turns his head and glances at his daughter. "It's a sword and a pen both."

Alexis gives Kate a look and then smiles softly at him. "I get it. The pen is mightier than the sword?"

"And justice carries a sword," Kate adds. "And well, in your dad's case, justice carries a pen too."

He wants to hold her hand. Is that stupid? He wants to just . . . hold her hand and smile at her. She makes him stupid about her.

Suddenly, her fingers trail at his spine, move up to skim the tattoo. Her palm presses flat for a moment, then eases his shirt back up his arms, the moment of strange connection gone.

He turns around, gives Alexis a look. "So . . . cool, huh?"

"It's different," she hedges. "I never expected you for the tattoo sort."

"Kate has a tattoo," he says, the words popping out of his mouth before he can stop them.

Alexis turns her eyes to his partner; Kate's hand comes up and squeezes his elbow. Whatever well-fought peace these two have between them, apparently his stupid mouth should stay shut.

"Well, but Kate is a tattoo person," Alexis says, shrugging. "Not in a biker chick kind of way, Kate. Sorry. No. I mean. You're just intense. And it would mean something. Dad, you sometimes do things. . ."

"Spontaneously," Kate supplies, shooting him a look that includes a sly smile and some warmth. He smiles back, glad to take that description - so much kinder than it could have been.

"Exactly. You're spontaneous. So I just - yeah. Okay, I should be quiet. I think it's cool, Dad. I'm just surprised." She leans in and wraps her arms around him, a fierce hug, then turns to Kate and gives her a more delicate version of the same.

"Have you had dinner?" he asks as she steps back.

"Oh, well-" She gives him a look, then her eyes slide to Kate and back to him. "I'm not staying the night. I just came because you emailed me. You guys should - well - I mean - just do whatever you like. I'll spend the night with Becca."

"Don't let me kick you out," Kate says suddenly, but her body is leaning in towards Castle, as if she thinks she ought to be the one to leave but doesn't really want to.

He finally lets himself take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. "We haven't eaten yet, Alexis. You should stay and-"

"No. I'm good. Really. I'm not getting kicked out, don't worry." This time her smile is all for Kate, intent and purposeful. She turns and picks up her bag from the back of the couch, steps towards them. "Don't be - too dirty?" she smirks.

He hears Kate sigh, but he laughs and tugs his daughter into a one-armed hug, kisses her forehead. "I can't make any promises."

"I can," Kate says heatedly. "And jeez, Castle. Shut up."

Alexis laughs then, impish smile on her face. "I think I've heard worse, Kate. So don't worry about it."

His daughter untangles herself from his grasp and heads for the door, tossing them a wave as she leaves.

When it's quiet and just the two of them again, Kate steps away from him and sinks to the back of his couch, head in her hand, facepalm style. "I can't believe she heard all that. I said you were dirty, and your daughter heard me," she groans.

"It was funny." He grins to himself and steps closer. "Besides, you were making me pretty hot. Although, I think I was returning the favor?"

Kate lifts her head; he expects chagrin, but instead she has a wickedly aroused look in her eyes. "So very much."

It flares in him too; his words get her, her response always gets him. He stalks towards her, arms on either side of the back of the couch, hunched over to break into her mouth, steal the curve of her lips, the rich suggestive dart of her tongue.

She opens to him, mouth and body, her legs hooking around his hips and dragging him closer.

He chuckles into her assault and breathes, heads down to her neck and that spot he loves.

She fists her hand in his hair and lifts him away, eyes dangerous, so very dark. "I love that tattoo. Every time I see it - I love what it says about us."

He grins, wraps his arms around her tightly, lifts her against him. "Permanent?"

"Permanent," she says. "And maybe it hurt, getting it, getting to this point, but it was worth it. Right, Castle? It was worth it."

He gentles his grip, slides his hand around to her hip, pressing the back of his fingers to that spot where she's marked as well. "So very much."

She smiles and releases his head, smooths her hands over his cheeks, leans in to give him the softest of touches with the faintest brush of her lips.

And then she says something entirely incongruous which makes it all the more unbelievably, crazy sexy:

"You gonna make it more permanent?"

"What?" he gasps. "Yes. Always. Permanent. Wait. Are you asking me-"

"You gonna let me move in, Castle?"

"You totally ruined my plan."

"You had no plan. You were chicken. You got a tattoo rather than get me a ring."

He blinks hard. Wait. How did it go from moving in to a ring? "Oh - yes. I - yes. A ring?"

"Isn't that how most people make it permanent?"

He lifts his head, heart bursting. "Yes. Are you - do you want a ring?"

"I'm the one asking, aren't I?"

"Yeah," he breathes, feels her hands at his collar now, sliding down his back, fingertips touching his tattoo. "Yeah, move in, marry me. All of that."

She grins back and presses another gentle kiss to his mouth, nips at his bottom lip.

"I like permanent."