Here we go, the first of my Castle holiday fic. The prompt was Castle/Beckett, Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy? (Do I by Luke Bryan). I hope you enjoy it.

xxxx

Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy?

In fact, does it have any effect at all?

When I bring you coffee, you always smile at me.

You definitely laugh at my jokes (well, sometimes at least).

I'm fairly certain you like having me around; I'm your partner now, not the irritating writer who trails after you all the time.

You like me.

You tell me things. Your favourite comics. Your guilty pleasures. Your fears. You've started to share yourself.

I love that.

We're good team.

I help you with your job.

I know you like having me around.

I even know you're attracted to me.

And I know you're not ready.

I know you're scared.

I can understand that (even if I wish it wasn't true).

It's okay. I don't mind waiting.

Not for you.

You're already further under my skin than either of ex-wives ever was. I know I won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

Because you drive me crazy.

And you know it. I can tell.

I can tell by the way you look at me sometimes.

I can tell by the way you completely invade my personal space.

I can tell by the way you kissed me that one time.

And I can tell by the way you tease.

You tease me far too much for someone who doesn't know exactly what they're doing.

You tease me far too much for someone who doesn't enjoy the sense of power.

You absolutely have a whole hell of a lot of power over me.

That's fine with me.

It's sexy as hell. (Especially that little smile of yours whenever you win an argument.)

I'd just like a little bit of power too.

Does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy?

I really hope so.

Because the sight of you wanting me short-circuits my brain.

Crouched across from me, releasing my wrists, asking me if I was okay and looking at me like I was the only person in the whole damn room that mattered.

(I certainly didn't mind. Right then you were the only one that mattered back.)

You looked beautiful, more beautiful than you've ever looked. And that's saying something.

I don't think I've ever wanted you more (which was also quite the feat).

I knew you wanted me; I knew you were thinking about it; I knew

And then the moment was broken.

I've never wanted to kill my mother more (a third record worth noting).

Like I said, I know you're not ready. And I can be patient.

But it would be easier to be patient if I knew that waiting was affecting you just as much.

So, does the sight of me wanting you drive you crazy?

I'd like to think so.

Then we'd really be in this together.

Luckily, I'm beginning to think maybe we are.

xxxx

The end