This is apparently what happens when I get given twelve hours of new music...teenie tiny fic overload!

I have my friends fiancee to thank for that, he who, on our first meeting, hugged me, declared his new found love for a show he believed I watched and dragged the three of us off for vanilla lattes...She's lucky I love her, he's totally steal-able.

So, for Tophe, who doesn't know I do this and will therefore never know this exists mwahahaha.

Bump that trunk.

Her knuckles were white from the force of her grip on the desk, the hard wood biting into the back of her tensed thighs and her lip tight between her teeth.

Was it hot in here today?

The precinct was usually cool, or at least bearable, but Kate felt like she was melting. Her skin hot and scratchy, clothes clinging, heavy and tight, rubbing just right in the wrong places when her legs brushed or her chest expanded.

She puffed heavily, blowing a tendril of hair from her face, the moist heat of her breath doing nothing to cool her down.

She hadn't meant to do it, honestly, she swore to herself it was an accident, a repeatable accident

It was just...Those pants.

And the way he wore them.

The sculptured curve of his ass pressing against the confining denim as he bent over, flexed the long thick muscles of his thighs and calves. He arched his back and she mimicked the movement subconsciously, as if his body lay over hers and she was chasing his withdrawal.

Or quickening his descent.

And she didn't groan.

She didn't.

Didn't growl or let out a low hum of appreciation for his ass as each cheek took a turn fighting with the denim. The swells of meaty flesh that had left her hands a little over four hours ago, that she could still feel tensing in her palms under the hot spray of her shower.

She didn't gasp and suddenly suck in a deep breath because staring at him bent over like that had stolen her ability to concentrate, to think of anything but him naked, to breathe.

She didn't because she was at work and that was ridiculous.

Just like it was ridiculous to accidentally on purpose, deliberately, with carefully planned and thought out malice, flick her pen so it dropped onto the floor and rolled into Castle's foot.

She hadn't done that.

For the third time in as many hours.

She hadn't nodded her assent when he flicked his questioning gaze in her direction and mimed picking up the pen. She hadn't licked her lips and smiled seductively or forced herself from her chair for a better view.

Except she had...She had done all of those things, just to stare at his ass in those pants as he bent over.

And she would do it again.

But, dammit, he had already retrieved the pen and was standing up. The confused look still on his face when he turned, took three fast steps and handed it to her.

With deliberate avoidance of his skin she took her pen back, smiling lightly, almost shyly as visions of her nails leaving red trails across his ass flooded her mind.

"Coffee?" He asked tilting his head, nodding towards her empty mug and making her head snap up quickly.

"Mmhmm." Kate nodded, swallowing, breathing...fighting the fire in her chest that was battling to consume her. Instead she followed his gaze, sweeping over the mug and lingering on the open pack of paper clips.

There had to be a good thirty left in the pack...

Her hand edged along the desk, long fingers extending to skim the box and if she could just flick it with her nail...

"Kate." His hand closed over hers, the sound of her name on his lips, intense and far too knowing, startled the heavenly swirl of heat that had been chasing around her heart. It caught at the edges and sent it in glorious cascade through her entire body.

Everything suddenly ten times hotter.

"Castle." She warned, his fingers fitting between hers as the warning served no purpose other than to expose the shudder of her voice, the quiver of excitement, fear and arousal that danced behind her words.

"Stop throwing things on the floor." He whispered darkly, his eyes on her face, penetrating her facade of carefully put together detective, skimming underneath and drawing out his friend, his partner and lover too quickly. He left her feeling open, and exposed with deadly desire, as he held her transfixed, "Stop, save it for later."

He paused, breathing steady and even, so unfair as Kate fought to keep every breath she inhaled from sounding like the gasp of a desperate fish.

"Later?" She stuttered, desperate for him to finish the thought, the slide of his thumb over the back of her hand making her skin quiver.

"I'll let you feel me up." He hummed, and she could feel it vibrate every inch of her flesh, where he touched, where he didn't yet and would soon.

Really soon if she had her way.

"Let me?" She asked breathily, trying to gain some control back, eyes teasing and watching, the thick swallow of his throat so very enticing as he heard the full extent of her need in the deep roll of her voice.

Kate reveled in the warmth of his palm, felt herself responding almost unconsciously, swiping the pad of her little finger tenderly across his pulse.

"You can feel my junk..."

Her startled laugh interrupted his words, as she snatched her hand back and covered her mouth. Her giggle escaping, freed and uncontrollable, overwhelmed and so much in love her heart felt like it was thundering against her ribs to get at him.

"...In the trunk." He finished slowly, eyes dancing as he stepped away from her desk, "Beckett your mind is filth." He winked and mumbled quietly under his breath "I love it."

With an exaggerated turn on the spot, he left her staring, biting her lip around the smile and lingering heat as she tilted her head and watched him walk away.