A/N A one-shot, I think, unless people like this enough to continue. I just couldn't get the scene out of my head! This is my first fic ever, so please please review, and if you care to see the story go further, please let me know, and suggestions are welcomed!! There are POV changes, I hope I've made them clear so no one gets confused!

I don't know what a beta is, let alone have one, so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. I do not own Castle or any of it's characters.

They were fighting. Again. It was like it never ended with them- it was like they fought just to fight.

Castle would be lying if he said he didn't find her incredibly hot when she was angry, or that pressing her buttons wasn't becoming one of his favorite hobbies, but this time, his motives were pure.

Lanie watched the two bicker day in and day out, but as of late, it had grown worse. Beckett would raise her voice, Castle would get in her face, and half the time they ended up in the nearest empty interrogation room, where they could battle it out at full volume. Her diagnosis? She thought, as she watched Kate grab Castle's arm and drag him in to interview room number 3. She had it coined as sexual frustration the second she saw the two together. But do they listen to me? Nooooooo. Lanie said to herself, bitterly. Oh well. She will find out for herself the hard way soon enough.

Castle nearly pulled away in shock when Beckett reached out and grabbed his arm, dragging him forcefully in to the nearest room. She pushed him with the same brutality in to a chair and he heard the door slam shut. "You are an arrogant, immature child!" She yelled at him, running a hand through her hair as she turned around to face him. The steel table that adorned every interrogation room stood between them, and Castle was struck by the sudden notion that she was grilling him. Well, she was. It was a frightening thought, being on the receiving end of this. He found he liked it much better on the other side of the table, next to Beckett, with Beckett. Not against her.

"Don't talk to me like I'm one of your suspects, Beckett, because I've seen those gross, slimy perverts and I'd rather not be grouped with them," he told her, struggling admirably to keep his voice at a normal level.

Beckett, on the other hand, was tired of keeping her feelings bottled up. "Well try not acting like one, Castle. That's all you've been today! Show up late, spill coffee, make sex jokes, watch me fill out some paperwork, make sex jokes, flirt with the witness, make sex jokes, maybe occasionally paint a pretty story semi-related to the case, make-" She was cut off by the abrupt sound of steel chair legs scrapping against the floor, Castle now standing, his face inches from hers.

"Don't pretend like you're any better than me," There was no more holding back. The hell with sticks and stones. "You poke right back, so don't act like you're some saint whose been cursed with the presence of me."

Was it her, or did he get a lot taller? The anger in his face, now that she was so close she could see it, was draining, and it seemed she was going to win on default, but she was still hot on the matter, and she wasn't about to start showing mercy now. "You can be a real bastard, sometimes, you know that?" She asked, not backing down.

"You are a hard-headed woman detective. You're so hell-bent on proving my theories wrong that you are blind to the fact that they are plausible. Because it comes from me, it is ridiculous, because it's from me it doesn't hold a candle to you and your badge and your murder board," the more he spoke, the more he realized he was fighting a losing battle.

"Now you know that's not true, Castle, I have always been supportive of your ideas, however ludicrous they may be!" He scoffed, dramatically, and she took that as him comeback. "I cannot stand you!" Somehow, during their heated argument, their faces had grown closer, and Castle, in his angry pacing, had ended up on her side of the table. Well, what was normally their side, putting her between his solid body and the steel table. He didn't say a word, he didn't think he could. His anger was subsiding, he forgot what they were fighting about to begin with. She was so close. His propinquity ebbed at her anger, and little by little it drained out of her. "Are you as turned on as I am?" She asked him, the words slipping out of their own accord.

Ryan and Esposito sat in the bullpen, trying to concentrate on the murder board, the distracting ambience of Castle and Beckett's screaming match making it that more difficult. "Man, what I would pay to be a fly in the wall in that room," Ryan muttered to his friend, shaking his head, knowingly.

"Poor Castle," Esposito said. "Beckett's gonna fillet him alive in that box." This comment earned a snicker from Ryan, and they both enjoyed the joke until there was a sudden lull emitting from the interrogation room. It was a long, heavy silence, a still that caused both men to turn around, eyeing the closed blinds of the window suspiciously.

"You don't think she killed him, did you?" Ryan whispered, as if he were afraid someone would hear.

"Naw, bro, we would have heard a gunshot. Knowing Beckett and Castle, we probably would have heard multiple," Esposito reasoned. Ryan nodded.

"Then what could they be doing so quite in there?" The two shared a telling look.

The words escaped her lips without a warning, and without permission, but before she could recover, Castle's face was nearing hers, fast. She found herself not pulling away but leaning in, and their lips crashed in a passionate kiss. His lips worked feverishly on hers and she felt herself pushing right back, her deft hands grabbing on to his jacket lapels and pulling him impossibly close. Why wasn't her body listening to her? His tongue traced her bottom lip and she opened her mouth immediately, granting him an all access pass. Their tongues dueled, battled for dominance, not unlike but far more intimate then the verbal sparring match they'd just ended. Her perfect body was pressed up against his completely, her arms moving from his jacket to his neck to his hair, tugging and teasing at the brown locks. He let his hands wander as far as he dare, around her waist, up her side, her arms, until finally resting on her face, pulling her closer to him. Their wild attack on each other slowed, fire still searing through her with every gentle kiss. She softened in his arms and let him hold her up a moment, reveling in the feel of his lips on hers. Now the kisses were deep and long, and soon, she needed to pull away, if not only for air. They broke apart, reluctantly, sucking in oxygen, their faces both red and lips swollen. She looked at him, uncertain of how she should feel, and he looked back, grinning not only on his face but in his eyes, too.

"That was…" She began, her voice a little shaky, completely lost for words.

"Wow," he finished for her, equally as stumped. It was his turn to catch her eye, uncertainty lurking in his own. She smiled, this time, one of the rare true smiles that reached all the way to her eyes, making them sparkle fantastically.


If I do continue (I hope you can convince me!) The story will probably upgrade to M, so fair warning. If it does, it will be moved to the proper rating accordingly. :) Press the green box, you know you want to! :) --sof