HIT AND RUN

Disclaimer: All Castle characters are the property of Andrew Marlowe and ABC.

Author's note: One shot for now, but possibly to be continued. Set somewhere in Season 3, after Under the Gun.

He was just half a block away from the precinct, a box of pastries and a pair of lattes from the bakery down the street balanced in his hands. Suddenly he heard a roaring behind him as a bike pulled into a spot next to the building.

It was all shining black and gleaming chrome. The rider was thin, he noticed, long legs tightly encased in dark jeans, upper body wrapped in black leather. She (for he had realized it must be a woman) threw her leg over the bike, standing in tall boots and reaching up to her helmet.

And then she spotted him, and oh god, she was walking toward him.

She used both hands to lift off her helmet, releasing a cascade of dark auburn hair, and he froze, watching as she ran her fingers through her messy locks to push them into place.

"Mornin', Castle," she lilted as she reached for one of the coffees.

He made no move to hand it to her, his eyes roving her body, up and down, up and down.

"Hey, one of those for me? Or were you just extra thirsty today?"

He started a little when he realized she was speaking to him and brought his gaze back up to her face.

"Beckett?" he asked, disbelievingly, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

She smirked, taking a cup from his hands. He nearly fumbled the other cup and the box when her fingers brushed against his.

He stared as she took a long sip of the coffee.

"Thanks, Castle."

He knew there was some standard polite response, but for whatever reason, his lips couldn't quite form the words.

"Oh, uh..." was all that came out.

She laughed and shifted the cup into her other hand, the helmet under her arm. He didn't move a muscle when she brought her now free hand up to his jaw, her index finger pushing his chin upward to close his mouth. A shiver ran down his spine, and she just grinned, turning on her heel and heading for the precinct.

He stayed there, not budging, his eyes following the sway of her hips and the swish of her hair as she walked. He was mesmerized.

Already ten feet away, she paused, and turned back to him.

"You comin', Castle?"

Her words jolted him out of his trance, and he trotted to catch up, glad for the lid on the sloshing coffee.

She waited for him and they walked together in silence up the steps and into the building. The elevator arrived quickly, and the two of them entered, leaning against the back of the car, and standing, as they always did, a little too close together.

She caught him staring at her again, and he had the decency to quickly avert his eyes as his face heated.

"See, this is why I didn't show you those pictures," she said, and he could hear the amusement in her voice. "I knew you couldn't handle it."

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