AN: Set season four, after episode 11 "Till Death Do Us Part" (aka Ryan's wedding).

Seduction

He brought her home that night.

It wasn't planned, wasn't a date, but when he'd shown up looking striking in his suit and with his arm empty, she'd gravitated to him like she always did, her whole body orienting toward him as if he was her shining beacon in a dark, starless night.

She hadn't minded attending by herself – she was a strong, independent woman who didn't need a date with some guy she wouldn't even like all that much just to avoid the stigma of the dreaded 'singles' table' – but there he'd been, with eyes only for her and her heart had scampered ridiculously.

So she'd hooked her arm through his and he'd walked her down the aisle, and they'd been the partners they always were, standing just this side of too close together, a sturdy mast in the bobbing sea of wedding guests. He'd leaned in close, murmured comments into her ear to drown out the the chatter and white noise of the crowd, his fingers brushing her hair behind her ear, and delicious shivers had raced down her spine.

She'd slowly sipped her drinks, not willing to give up the pure joy of this day for the numbing blur of alcohol; that tingle in her fingertips, the flip of her tummy, this heightened awareness. She'd laughed, and danced, once or twice with him, too, with his wide palm spanning her lower back and heat spreading concentrically where he touched. With their thighs grazing, hips bumping and her lips too close to the skin of his neck; her hand folded into his larger one and his thumb mindlessly caressing slow circles over her knuckles, over and over and over until she'd felt flushed from her cheeks down to her toes.

And then she'd slid into his car, and they sat a respectable distance apart, with her body humming and her skin tingling and her heart yearning.

She asked him to have his driver stop a couple of blocks away from her apartment, and she wasn't surprised when Castle ambled out of the car behind her. The night air was crisp; unseasonably warm for mid-January but cool against her flushed cheeks. She wanted to walk a bit, soak that fresh winter humidity into her lungs; infuse her spirit with this eternally beautiful night and have it not end. Not yet.

Kate raised an eyebrow at him when he skeptically eyed her shoes, four-inch slim heels with which she'd already danced the night away, but then she retrieved the small velvet satchel from her purse with a sly grin. He still watched with wide eyed fascination as she retrieved a folded pair of ballet slippers from the pouch. She slid out of one stiletto, rested her hand on his shoulder for balance while she slipped the thin shoe onto her right foot. His arm came around her back, fingers clamped tightly around her waist, holding her steady and the unexpected touch stalled her breath in her lungs. His thumb skimmed along the edge of her ribcage and she had to suppress the shiver that raced through her, had to busy herself with the other ballet slipper to hide her visceral reaction. Now flat-footed, she sank down a few inches and he let her go. She could almost taste the loss on her tongue; she swallowed it down.

He slipped out of his suit jacket, draped it over her, his fingers lingering on her shoulders just this side of too long before he pulled away and bent down to pick up her stilettos.

He carried her shoes.

They dangled off his fingertips as they walked side by side, silence settling over them after the bustle and hum of the wedding reception. His scent surrounded her, the familiar freshness of his cologne, his warmth, the musk of him lifting from his jacket; delicious heat bloomed in her midsection, leaving her mouth desiccated, her mind warring with itself. Her knuckles bumped into his, grazed his hand every couple of steps. Her fingers twitched; she wanted to lace them through his, feel the heat of his palm pressed tightly to hers. Her heart hammered but every step she took seemed to hum a taunting, familiar rhythm, not yet, too soon, not ready.

All too soon the dark silhouette of her building loomed in front of them and then they arrived by her front door. The silence became heavy, almost awkward, the moment too much like a date, weighed down with unspoken hopes as she retrieved the keys from her purse but seemingly unable to turn around, insert them into the lock. Leave.

She shrugged out of his jacket, held it out to him, and the shiver that raced along her skin had nothing to do with the cool evening air. He took it from her, held her shoes out in exchange, leaning close. Their fingers touched as she received the shoes, a jolt zipping through her blood. With the flat slippers she had to look up at him, just a bit, and his eyes were so blue, darkened with a myriad of emotions she was terrified to analyze.

Heat emanated from his chest, so broad, crowding her against her front door. She wondered what he'd feel like, the wide muscles and the heat of his body and without conscious thought she raised her hand, pressed her palm to his ribcage. She could feel his heartbeat speed up beneath her hand, her heart stammering in syncopation with his. She licked her dry lips; his eyes shimmered in the blur of city lights, turning impossibly darker as he kept staring at her mouth.

Her heart leapt into her throat with every inch he seemed to lean closer, ever closer; she felt that spark between them, that hum of electricity that zapped heat through her veins, turned her knees weak, set her body aflame from the inside out.

His heat wrapped around her, his scent enticing, his lips plump, so very sexy and desire coiled hard in her midsection. Her fingers flexed of their own volition, digging into his ribs and she could feel the answering hitch in his breathing, his breath skittering across her lips; could almost feel the heat of him against her skin, his mouth so close now and her thoughts stumbled all over each other, overwhelming desire combating her inherent fears, not ready, not good enough and that stupid wall but a swell of words rushed through her, burst from her lips, impatient and uncensored and yearning.

"Want to come up?"