I can't concentrate on anything. There's no case, nothing but boring old paper work to do. And Castle is just sitting there in his chair next to my desk clicking his pen up and down over and over again. How typical of him to consume his time waiting for me before lunch with the most pointless activity possible. Yep, I, Kate Beckett, am definitely not in love with him. He's like a child, satisfied by the smallest things. And that doesn't turn me on at all; okay, well maybe it does just a little bit. But I certainly don't think anything of all the crazy theories he comes up with during investigations. That's just plain annoying. Okay, I might just possibly find the full face smiles he makes when he comes up with those crazy ideas kind of cute and charming. But of course, I get nothing out of those times when he looks at me in awe like I'm a goddess or something. I mean, come on, I am Kate Beckett. I'm totally independent; some guy giving me googly eyes because he thinks I look hot shouldn't have any effect on me. But this isn't just any guy. This is Castle. And even though I'm totally in love, opps I mean not in love, with him, all his little weird quirks still melt me to goo.
"Umm Beckett, why are you staring at me like that?"
Ohh dear God, I give up. I've got the Richard Castle bug bad.