Castle's never been Steven Tyler's biggest fan, but now he can definitely say he owes him for something; Beckett's hips are going like a pendulum, like a burlesque dancer's hips, like a predatory something -- god, at least a hundred different similes and metaphors and Castle can't choose one that fits her best.

He ducks his chin out of the way of her fandancing hands, 'gives her hip a soft press with his fingertips. "I'm more of a Miles man, myself," he admits. "But this ain't bad."