Beckett's content to lay in the aftermath for a moment, her eyes still closed, concentrating on returning the pace of her breathing and the rhythm of her heartbeat back to their normal rates. There's a slow fire still burning in her lower belly, stoked into a lingering flame as she sighs under Castle's seeking mouth, her limbs weak and pleasure-filled.

Decompression. Shaw.

And just like that, Beckett's brain is back on the case, the wheels resuming their turning. Her eyes snap open. She pries herself away, squeezes out from underneath Castle, rolling onto her side and cradling her arms against her chest.

"Uh huh," she murmurs, eyes reflecting the returning stream of her thought process as she stares at the bedside table, the alarm clock's face hidden from her view thanks to earlier fumbling in the dark.