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Richard Castle was a lucky man. He and Beckett had pieced together the case quickly and succinctly. He hadn't missed anything making it to his daughter's graduation in time. The case was closed, the story told and his little girl had given the best damn valedictorian speech he'd heard in a long time. The stunning detective sitting beside him hadn't dampened the occasion in the slightest either. Beckett had surprised him as he hastily threw his goodbyes to the bullpen, pursuing him, her hand snatching at the end of his jacket.

"Can I come?" she breathed expectantly, a tiny tinge of hesitation floating after her words.

"Huh, what?" Castle mumbled, distracted by the play of her fingers on his jacket, steadily skimming over the leather toward the exposed skin of his hand.

"Alexis' graduation. If it's an imposition, don't worry, I just…" she was cut off by the press of his fingers to her lips.

"Hush woman, of course you can come. I should have invited you. I didn't realise you would want to come…" he trailed away with a shrug. She smiled softly.

"I'd love to come, Castle. I haven't seen Alexis since, well, you know. She won't mind will she?" Beckett added as an afterthought.

"More guaranteed applause for her speech? She won't mind in the slightest!" Castle hoped to god that he wasn't lying. Alexis should be happy to see the detective there. She liked Beckett. Just, with Castle's recent behaviour – and attitude… Hmm… It work would out. Beckett wanted to be there. She was coming home with him tonight for a John Woo double feature. He had nothing to worry about. This was a progress. This was a definite step in the right direction. His heart fluttered in anticipation. Progress. Progress was undoubtedly a good thing.

He pulled himself away from his thoughts, drew his eyes from the stage – Alexis wasn't speaking anymore – and chanced a glance at the woman beside him. He didn't really need to look at her. He was already hyper-aware of her presence. Her hand was on her thigh, practically brushing his, he could feel the spark of heat from her proximity. It was electric. He was near hyperventilating at the mere thought. He crossed and uncrossed his ankles, he was jittery to the point of literally bouncing in his seat. It was not smooth, nor charming. He needed to be charming, tonight of all nights. He had a movie date with Beckett. Or? Well? No, screw it. It totally was a date. No backing down. Even if she didn't think it was a date. He was going to "date it up", "date the hell out of it", "date…" Mmm, for a bestselling novelist, he really had some issues with coherency when it came to this woman. This remarkable, conundrum of a woman.

She applauded beside him and he painstakingly dragged his attention back to the stage, mimicking her clap a beat too slow. Whoops. Oh well. He really had to get that smooth thing in check. There wasn't time for it at the present though, as the ceremony was ending. His baby girl was a graduate. He couldn't have contained his grin if he tried.

Alexis joined them in the massive throng of people crowding the floor. He hugged her tightly before passing her off to his mother. As he watched them embrace, Beckett startled him. Her hand coming to rest in the crux of his elbow.

"She's amazing, Castle," she murmured, her breath warm at his ear, the sensation setting his nerves on fire.

"I, uh, thanks," he choked out in response. She grinned and leaned into his side.

"You're an incredible father," she continued, her tone devoid of teasing. Castle managed to remember to breathe, drawing air shakily into his lungs as Beckett's body pressed up against his, keeping close in the crowd.

"Beckett…" he started, his voice low, trembling with barely masked desire. He cleared his throat. She merely sighed in response.

"And that speech, our solid ground, our north star, with us always…" she recants, not word for word, but close enough, the meaning intact. "It resonated with me," she adds softly, a certain undeniable tenderness to her tone. Castle nodded his agreement, too entranced by the woman at his side to really comment.

Alexis pulls away from Martha and turns back to them. Beckett offer her a soft smile, Castle sees it for what it is, an apology of sorts for the way things have been lately. This uneasiness between them all. Alexis' lips twist upwards, an echo of the sentiment. Beckett releases an unsteady breath and releases Castle, stepping around him to reach carefully towards Alexis. The girl throws herself into Beckett's arms with verve. Castle doesn't think everything has been resolved, not even close. Just the excitement of this night is infectious. His beautiful, gracious graduate. If he grins any wider his cheeks will split open with the force of his enthusiasm.

"Dad, dad, father… Richard Castle!" His daughter is rolling his eyes at him with a look of amusement.

"Yes, sweetie," he aims for nonchalant, clearly falling short.

"Seriously, where did you just go?" she shakes her head affectionately, hand falling into place at her hip. Beckett is watching the interaction silently, but her eyes dance with unshed laughter.

"Well, excuse me for getting consumed by thoughts of how brilliant my perfect graduate is…" he intones in mock defiance.

"Sure, sure," Alexis mutters, although the resounding beam she's giving him assures him that all is forgiven. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that my friends are leaving so…"

"Fine, I bid you adieu fair daughter," he sighs overdramatically and she brushes a kiss to his cheek.

"See you tomorrow, Dad, love you," she smiles.

"Love you too, pumpkin," he echoes as she draws away, lost to the crowd apart from a flash of red hair here and there and she makes her way to the exit. Martha disappears in her wake, with a gentle squeeze of his arm. He's left, alone at last with Beckett. As alone as they can be in a sea of people nonetheless…

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

The cab ride back to his loft is spent in relative silence. Castle is hesitant to break the spell, too captivated by her words earlier about understanding Alexis' speech and the part about always. It's no secret that the word is weighted more heavily to the pair of them than general society. It's their word. It's special, it's sacred. He likes thinking about what she could mean. He settles for cautiously optimistic. Considering how things have been lately, how open – to him – she's seemed for these past few cases he figures he's allowed a little bit of cautious optimism. It's a hell of a lot nicer than the insufferable doubt and uncertainty that's plagued him over recent weeks. He suppresses a shudder at the recollection – he has been an arse. But, she's just so unreadable. He doesn't really know what to think anymore. The ball's in her court, which to be honest it always has been, but at least it seems like she's actually stepped into her court – no longer a mere spectator glancing over from the sideline.

He leads her gently into the loft, his hand falling oh-so-casually to the small of her back. His hand is not on fire, it's not… But it is igniting a curling flame in the pit of her stomach. She can't even find the grace to hide her body's physiological reaction to him anymore, she shivers at the sensation, prays he has the sense to overlook it – at least verbally. He remains silent, but his hand leans into the fabric of her coat just a little bit firmer. She stifles the hum of contentment that rises in the back of her throat. Later. Just later. He nudges her to the couch.

"Wine?" he queries as she settles into the soft cushions.

"Yeah," she agrees, closing her eyes with a soft smile. He's barely gone a minute before he's pressing a long-stemmed wineglass into her hand and quietly switching the television on. He flicks through his files and finds The Killer. The film bursts to life as she takes measured sips of the gleaming red liquid in her hand. "This is really nice, Castle," she sighs as he takes his place beside her. Close, but not quite close enough, always the gentleman. He hums his agreement, eyes flicking from the screen to gaze at her in adoration, the way her cheeks fill up as she sips, the long line of her neck as she swallows. It is really nice. Too nice. His self control is about to shatter. She's so close, yet still so far away. He drags – literally, it takes all the effort he can possibly muster – his eyes back to the screen. Lucky he's seen the film before, otherwise he'd be confused. It's barely started and already it's lost his interest in comparison to the siren of a woman sitting beside him. He doesn't even need to be looking at her for his attention to be completely consumed by her.

Beckett yawns and shifts minutely towards him. Foolish man. If he'd just sat closer to as she wanted – yearned – for him to, she wouldn't have to oh-so-subtlety manoeuvre herself into his arms. His breathing stutters as she tentatively presses the line of her body flush with his so they are seated hip-to-hip, shoulder-to-shoulder. He quickly collects himself, but it's enough for Beckett to know that he is as aware of her body as she is of his. Good. That should make things easier. The knowledge spurs her on. A gory action sequence flashes to life on the screen and she takes full advantage of it, pressing her face into his shoulder with a shudder – a completely fake shudder, but he buys it nonetheless.

"I wouldn't have taken you for someone who's afraid of little action, Beckett," he chuckles softly. Her face still masked by his shoulder she rolls her eyes fiercely at the double entendre, biting her lip to stay silent. He pauses a moment, gauging that she's letting it slide before growing a little bolder. "You know, if you're scared I could always hold your hand," his tone is a breezy cover, the genuine desire barely coated. She grins into his shoulder. Oh, she is so going to be successful in her plans for this evening. It's taking a nice turn. She pulls away from his shoulder, trails her hand down the inside of his arm until her fingers interlock gently with his. Keeping his eyes trained carefully on the film, he clutches her hand with all the tenderness in the world, a stupid smile unconsciously gracing his features. Beckett couldn't hide her resounding smile if she tried and the reality is, at this point, what's the use in trying? She half-heartedly focussed a snippet of her attention on the film. It drew her in, just a tad. She found herself laughing at a totally inappropriate moment, Castle turning to her in amusement. She tried to rein it in, drawing her free hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. "Beautiful," Castle commented. It fell from his lips without thought. He found once it did, he couldn't get it back. Beckett startled somewhat and turned to him, a deep blush pooling on her cheeks. He raised a hand, unable to resist and tucked the hair framing her face behind her ear. Her face reddened at his movements.

"Castle," she sighed, pressing her cheek into his lingering hand.

"Kate," he smiled softly. "You're so beautiful when you're happy," the tenderness of his tone combined with his touch set her skin alight.

"You make me happy, Castle," she asserted. "Only you," she added fiercely, drawing herself into the frame of his body and pressing her lips firmly to his. His blood boiled and he couldn't help himself, he deepened the kiss, tugging her body flush with his. She came easily, pressing herself to him as ardently as he dragged her in. After several moments they drew apart for air, but her lips stayed on his skin, peppering soft kisses along his jaw. He shuddered beneath her and hungrily met her supple lips once again. She tasted sweeter than their undercover kiss, there was no sizzling undercurrent of fear and adrenalin. It was purely her. He cradled her head in his hands and pulled her back gently so that she met his eyes. They were a reflection of his, unmasked love and desire and that alone almost undid him, them. "Bed," she ground out, her voice raw with longing.

"Bed," he agreed, yanking her to her feet and moulding his mouth to hers once again. Somehow, through his raging passion he managed to form the single coherent thought that he would never again spend a night alone. He had his always.

AN: Cheesy, I know. But hey, that's how I roll. Besides, apparently my brain needed to get this out before I could even pretend to focus on my damn essay. So very academic of me… Please review! (I have to sit through some very boring lectures and having reviews to read will ensure my sanity remains intact…)