Sorry about the wait people. But this needed to be right. I hope I've not disappointed anyone.

Stupid Castle!

Waiting for so long that our first kiss is reduced to a peck. Something you give your grandmother on her cheek at Christmas.

We're arguing about something else, not arguing exactly. We're bantering. I love bantering with Castle, and now there's a definite romance-y edge to it – which is really gorgeous. But I am annoyed. I wanted the rush of adrenaline, the endorphins, the feelings of our 'thing'. I wanted our first kiss to epitomize the passion and desire of the past (almost) two years of acquaintance.

He ruined it.

Okay, so it wasn't his fault, exactly. I am partly to blame for the lack of kissing awesomeness, but …

"That's beside the point my dear detective." I hear Rick say. It might be a good idea for me to tune back in to the conversation.

"How can that be beside the point?" I know I'm right but I'm not exactly following the trains of thought here.

"It just is." See, I told you I was right, Castle can't even think of an appropriate comeback. That's when I can't take it anymore.

I blurt out "You're the one that reduced our first kiss to a quick, almost non-existent peck."

Castle just looks at me.

He looks at me like he does when he's trying to figure me out. Or has just figured something out, I'm never quite sure which.

"Well, that I can fix." He states and before I have time to consciously realize what he's saying, he's moving.

He pushes a button, I'm pretty sure it was the 'stop' button – because really why would he be moving toward me and pushing the third floor button? But before I get too much of a chance to think about that, my eyes are drawn back to his fast moving body once again.

He leans, or lunges, or leaps, pushing me gently but firmly back against the wall of the elevator. I can feel the hardness of the wall and the firm warmth of Castle through his jacket.

His hands are on my body, one on my neck steadying my head and one on my hip holding me against the wall.

He must be able to feel my pulse going like crazy. His thumb is directly on my throat, he can definitely feel my every movement.

I don't even get the chance to swallow because his mouth is already on mine. Kissing me with a passionate intention I wasn't entirely sure he had.

It's not that I think Castle isn't an intentional kind of guy. But I have been friends with him for a while now, and have had to deal with his Deep Fried Twinkie ramblings as well as his dalliances with Nikki Heat enthusiasts. So I know that he's not exactly known for his intentional passions.

He is known for his passions, just not with this kind of intent.

I kind of thought he was more the flighty, 'let's have fun' kisser. Not this all encompassing, I'm literally being held up by the wall and his hands, kind of kiss.

And yes, I am embarrassed that I've thought a lot about this subject.

All of these thoughts flit through my head quickly, so quickly that I'm kissing him back before I even realize what's actually happening.

I am actually making out with Castle in a stopped elevator.

It's so cliché, but epically wonderful.

We are in a very public place, enjoying our second first kiss, our proper first kiss, the second kiss for the first time or is it the first kiss for the second time? I don't know but what I do know is that our first actual meeting of the lips was in his apartment building on our way to a murder.

Oh yeah, the murder.

That reminds me … I don't want to, but I know I have to … I slow down our kiss.

Castle gets the idea, he slows down too, but we don't want to stop kissing, and that's quite obvious.

We're slowly, languidly kissing each other, reveling in the tingling and soft pressure of our mouths working together.

We really do need to stop.

I grin into the kiss. The force of Castle … Rick … trying to keep kissing me causes his mouth to ram into my teeth.

I vaguely hear his 'ow' echoing in the small space as he maneuvers my head more to the right.

It's about this point that I realize I'm going to have to be more proactive about getting his wonderful, gorgeous mouth off of me.

The only problem with my magnificent plan is that I don't actually want him to stop kissing me. But I do have a job to do, and my entire team (well, all the people I consider my team) are waiting for me at the crime scene.

"Mm, Castle" I mumble into his mouth.

He kisses me again.

"No" I whine.

Can you believe it? I'm actually whining at Castle. I do not whine.

He kisses me again.

"Stop," at this point I laugh, a girlish giggle erupting within the confines of the elevator.

"No stopping" he mumbles back.

We really do need to stop.


"Murder." I manage to say.

And this is the thing that finally gets his attention.

He kisses me slowly one last time, and pulls away. His warm wandering hands flatten and straighten my shirt. It's become bunched up. I make an educated guess that at one point he must have purposefully un-tucked it so he could touch my skin.

I'm definitely not complaining.

Only, how did miss that?

My face feels flushed. I lift a hand to my cheek, and it definitely feels warm.

"You look great." He states.

I quirk my eyebrow.

"Thoroughly kissed." He smirks.

"If I still look like this at the crime scene, I'm not getting out of the car."

Castle – I need to stop doing that – RICK laughs.

He un-stops the elevator and we travel down. The doors open and I try not to think about the fact that we just did what we did in that elevator. I'm usually more private than that. It seems that Castle, RICK, brings out the wilder sides of me. I'm not complaining.

I drive, because I actually know where we're going. Rick is quiet and I think I'm grateful. Then I remember what he said before he kissed me.

"Well Rick…"

He turns to me in surprise.

Yes, Rick, I am calling you by your first name, stop with the stunned mullet look.

"You definitely are a fix-it man, aren't you?"

He smiles his cocky grin. The one where he knows he's right and that you have to actually admit it because you're an honorable person, and he deserves recognition sometimes.

On very occasional and sporadic moments.

Our gaze is interrupted by flashing lights. Red and blue.

"Do I look okay?" Asking like the inner girl I am.

"You look great."


"Definitely unkissed. Which I personally think is a great shame." He's serious though, so I take the comment at face value.

There's a background noise of reporters scrambling for attention and taking good shots of the crime scene. This is why I really hate high profile body dump sites. There's always the extra hassle of keeping the story-mongers off the scent.

And I somehow always end up on the nightly news leaning over a blanketed body either talking intensely with the coroner or barking orders at Ryan and Esposito. Great looks for getting dates.

Not that I have to worry about that anytime soon.


Heaven. He was in Heaven. From kissing. He was in Heaven from kissing.

He knew you could be in heaven from other things but he never really knew that simply, not that it was simple, and only kissing could catapult you into heaven, but she did.

Kissing Beckett. Kissing Kate did that for him.

Put him in Heaven.

And surprisingly he was still in heaven. Standing over another deceased person, with cops teeming and reporters with their dictaphones, microphones, cameras, flashing lights and screaming, annoying voices yelling and competing for prominence, he was still there. On the ninth or seventh cloud, the one that laughed in the face of silver linings.

He controlled his face though. This was no time for smiling and being happy.

He needed to be far, far away from The Elevator Incident. For now at least. He could ponder on it later.

Everything was finally coming together, after all the waiting, and messing up, all the misunderstandings and grievous mistakes (particularly on his part) he and Kate were finally, actually moving forward. They were done with the simply friends part of their acquaintance and were well on their way to romantic involvements.

But for the first time, Richard Castle wanted to take things slow. He did not want to rush this. This had been a long time coming and they deserved the right to dwell in and savor every moment of the new development.

But back to focusing on the crime scene and the dead body – the murder - that had interrupted their pleasant kissing time. It was a male, around forty, graying hair and significantly lacking in the distinguished looks department. But his body was mangled badly, like someone had tried to tie his body around the statue in the plaza. As if his skin was wrapping paper and his bones were getting in the way.

The wallet professed the man to be Walter Rappel, single and unattached. The victim wasn't a high society member, and for a minute his brain tried to figure out why there were so many reporters hanging around.

Then he realized they weren't there for the victim, he wasn't of any importance to them. They were here for the fact that Mr. Rappel was wrapped around the statue.

"Liver temp indicates he died around 2am." Lanie's voice stated, suddenly interrupting his thoughts.

"Before or after?" Ryan asked.

Esposito entered the conversation before Lanie had a chance to respond, "It doesn't matter, there's an ATM over there. They have cameras. I think it has clear-ish view of the plaza."

"Go check it out." Beckett ordered.

Ryan and Esposito left as ordered.

"So, did she apologize like she told me this morning she would?" Lanie asked, glancing up from the deceased Mr. Rappel.

I pause; taking the time to think back to the morning.

Beckett freezes.

I know exactly what she is thinking. She's trying to decide how she would have reacted if she had merely apologized with words instead of teasing and kisses.

That's when I smirk, "Oh, she did more than apologize."

"Castle!" Beckett hissed.

Lanie's ears and eyes perked up at the new development. "Really?"

"Really." I respond.

"Really!" Beckett groans in exasperation.

"Girl, we are definitely going out for lunch today." Lanie said, "and you (she said nodding toward him), we're having a very long discussion about what this apology entailed."

He was about to respond with some smart retort, but the look on Beckett's face stopped him. It was her scared face. One she didn't get very often.

This is important, he realized.

She needed more time, before people, even Lanie, started making fun of their relationship. Because that's what they had now: a relationship.

"Ah, rain check on that one, thanks." He replied.

Lanie stiffened at the imagined insult, but a quick skip to Beckett's entirely relieved face gave her the answer she was looking for.

"Right." She responded.

"Right." He said happily, glad that that little disaster was averted.

"Right!" Beckett exclaimed, pushing up off her knees.

Without sparing either of them a second look, she walked briskly back to her car. There wasn't much more for them to do here, now that they'd seen the scene and the body.

"So … she apologized." Lanie repeats, just to make sure he thinks.


"But you can't tell me how." She adds.

"Not can't. Won't. Not yet anyway."

There's a silence while she contemplates what that could mean. But Lanie knows Kate well. She'll figure it out soon.

"But it was good. Really good. Really, really good."

Lanie's face lights up as she looks at me.

"Good. Really good." She repeats, once again.

"Nice to know you understand."

"I will be picking up that rain check." She says, smiling the whole time.

"And maybe by the time you do, it'll be a downpour." Oh, I know right, I totally scarpered off with that rain analogy. Nice!

Lanie shakes her head in amused disgust.

I turn and make my way to the car, with the other half of my relationship is sitting in the front seat.

My other half.

I like the sound of that.

The End.

So, is that a satisying ending?

I hope so.

Oh, and if anyone wants to know. They do find poor Walter's killer. The ATM camera served justice once more!