Can I just go ahead and give myself a high 5? Or a pat on the back? I've updated three stories today. It's a good thing, and a bad thing.

My chemistry book is crying.

Normally, Detective Beckett knew exactly what was going on. She knew what was, when, and why anything was happening. She's the precincts lead detective, she has to know.

But, as of three weeks ago, and counting, Beckett's world was turned upside down. For the good, of course. Kate willingly took Castle's hand that day in the precinct. She was glad to have him back, and call her wrong, but she was ready to bring him in with open arms, despite her persisting otherwise.

Yeah, three weeks to the date… and things were going well.

"Castle,"Beckett pulled the writer closer, so he was resting between her legs as she sat on the countertop in her kitchen.

She immediately pulled his face down to hers, her intentions clear. The writer struggled though, and pulled back with a devilish smirk.


Castle stubbornly shook his head, determined to keep true to his word. "Un un, Kate. You know the deal. You agreed to it."

"That was only so we could get past Esposito… come on, Cas-"


The detective frowned.

Castle leaned forward, and Beckett grinned, knowing she would always get her way. To her disappointment, the writer stopped at the top of her head, giving it a simple peck before backing away to his previous distance.

"You can do it, Kate. I have faith in you."

The detective groaned, "I hate you."

"If I recall correctly, last night you were telling me otherwise-"

"Castle," she smacked him playfully, her face blushing at the memory.

"Aww, come on, Kate." Castle's face dropped, and he when he looked back up, his eyes were watery and wide.

"Oh no, Castle. Not the puppy face."

"You made a deal," he quipped, "Time to follow through with it."

"Why?" the detective crossed her arms and straightened up. She could be stubborn to.

"Beecaaause, " he moved slightly closer, "I want to hear my name roll off your tongue. It would be incredibly sexy. In fact, you could even use that accent of yours-"

Beckett rolled her eyes before pushing Castle back and hoping off the table. "I have to work, Castle."

The writer placed his hands on the detective's waist, softly forcing her back against the counter. Beckett instinctively pulled him against her.

Castle dipped his head, brushing his lips across hers. "I'll let it go," he said softly, "For now."


Before Castle could respond, Beckett took charge of the situation and pulled him back to her.

Beckett's refusing to call him Rick? What? We can't have that... now can we?