A/N I took my cue from 'Til Death Do Us Part', the episode where Ryan and Jenny get married.

"All?" exclaimed Castle.

"Really? You sign women's chests at book parties, you cannot be surprised that I'm not a virgin." Beckett feigned shock at her partner's inquisition.

"It's just that all suggests…a lot. Just how many are we talking here?"

"Are you seriously asking for my number?"

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours…"

"I'm not going to tell you, Castle."

"Awww, come on! What can it hurt? It's just a little number…I hope it's just a little number." Castle said aloud, partly to Beckett, partly to himself.

"Relax, writer boy. I said I wasn't going to tell you." Castle raised an eyebrow at the window that had just been opened for him. Beckett moved around the table that was between them and stood so close to him that there was barely any space left between them. She leaned in, drew her lips to his ear, "You fancy yourself as a Detective, work it out for yourself" she whispered suggestively. Castle shuddered, a chill running down his spine. He struggled to control himself as he felt the movement of her lips brushing by his ear lobes, the warmth of her breath making him tingle. She shot him a coy smile as she pulled away and headed towards Gate's office. He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

"I'll give you until 'I do' to give me the right answer" Beckett called back to him, simultaneously knocking on Gates' door. Castle stood up and started towards Kate. Right on cue, the Captain called her in. "Oooh, burn" Kate mouthed in Castle's direction, stepping into the office and swiftly closing the door behind her, stopping him in his tracks.

"If Josh got to be motorcycle man, then I get to be writer man too!" he called after her.

She'd almost shut the door on his face he was that close to catching up to her. Castle stood outside Gates' office completely dumbfounded. Had that really happened? Had the oh-so-professional Kate Beckett just teased him – at work of all places – and challenged him to calculate her sexual history? 'Game on' he thought to himself as he rubbed his hands with glee. He could hear Beckett and Gates talking about an impending trial and knew that they'd be in there for a while. Taking his opportunity while he had it, Castle turned on his heels and made his way back to Beckett's desk – 'What better place to start' – he told himself.

Beckett was one of the most organised people he knew. Everything on her desk had a place – from pens to paperclips, staplers to sticky notes – she was meticulous. Castle knew he had to be careful so as to make sure not to give himself away. He heard Beckett's own words echoing in his mind; a good detective finds left clues, a great detective leaves no clues to find. Castle pondered that for a moment, not entirely sure he'd gotten it right. 'Maybe she'd said great criminals leave no clues to find…criminals, detectives…one and the same, right? I mean, how different can it be? It's something like that…oh well.' His recall might not be great but the concept was there. 'I really have to stop going off on an internal rant like that' he scolded himself. 'Get back to the point. The point…ah, yes!'

The point. Rule number one: leave no clue. Castle had to leave no trace of himself or his 'illegal' activity around Beckett's desk. He glanced around the bullpen. Ryan and Esposito were in the break room; Espo trying to tempt Ryan into eating a doughnut instead of 'cleansing' with the freaky green concoction delivered to him by Jenny. There were two other detectives busy filing paperwork and a handful of beat cops escorting suspects from the tombs. He strained his ears…he could just abouthear Beckett and Gates still talking business back in the office. 'Safe' he agreed with himself.

Castle perched on the edge of Beckett's chair. He dropped his hand down to the lever that adjusted its height. Just as he clasped his fingers around it, Beckett's voice was screaming loud and clear in his head once more: what have I told you…? Don't mess with my chair! I know you've been sitting in it Castle. Right, don't mess with the chair.

Slowly, he eased open the first of the drawers housed in Beckett's desk. Spare notepads, pens, a ruler, Tipp Ex, spare business cards, a stray elastic band…nothing that would help him. He shut the drawer again and moved onto the one beneath it. It was deeper and heavier than the first and squeaked a tad as he pulled it. This one contained nothing but a bunch of case files waiting for Beckett to complete. Castle closed this drawer also, disappointed at his lack of success. He should have known – this wasn't just any half-wit convict, this was the incredibly private and professional Kate Beckett.

The bullpen had become unusually quiet. Castle lifted his head and scanned his surroundings before giving himself the 'all clear' to continue his quest. The third drawer in Beckett's desk was by far the largest, yet he couldn't remember ever seeing her open it. Not once in the four years he'd shadowed her had she opened that drawer in his presence. 'On to a winner' Castle smiled to himself.

The handle of Gates' door turned and the door opened a fraction. Castle could hear Beckett rounding up her conversation with Gates so he still had time, just not a lot of it. 'Better be quick' he told himself. He grabbed the handle of the last drawer and pulled hard, preparing for it to be heavier and stiffer than the previous ones.

There was a loud crashing sound as the front panel of the drawer came off in his hand and the speed of the movement caused him to stumble and fall from the edge of the chair he'd been precariously perched upon. With all the grace of a five year old on a bouncy castle, he found himself sprawled across the floor, drawer panel in hand and a throbbing pain in his head.

A dozen heads turned in his direction, Ryan and Esposito appeared outside the break room (doughnuts in hand) and the door to Gates' office was now fully ajar. Castle cringed, legs still in the air.

"Whatya doin'?" the voice was chirpy and amused. Castle turned his head and caught sight of a pair of four inch heels; Beckett heels. His eyes travelled the length of her body, committing every inch to memory (not that he needed to, he'd had four years to check her out and had used the time wisely). She was leaning on the back of the wheelie chair that had betrayed him, legs crossed at the ankles, hand on hip. Boy, did she ooze sex appeal when she stood like that. Finally he locked his gaze on hers. A wide smile that spread from ear to ear covered her face.

"Nothin' much. Just chillin' down here with my…with my…" For once in his life, Richard Castle was lost for words. Why did they desert him right when he needed them most? He was going to have to give himself a talking to later on.

"With my drawer handle?" she was enjoying this way too much, found it far too amusing.

"If that's what you kids are calling it these days, then yeah. I guess I am." He continued to lay there, looking like the victim of a cow-tipping session.

"Need a hand there maestro?" she proffered, holding her hand out to him as she did so. He took the offer, grateful for a little help out of this embarrassing situation. Castle brushed himself down with his free hand, straightened his suit as best he could.

"I'm fine. It's cool. I'm good." Castle said nonchalantly as he turned to face everyone else in the bullpen.

"Alright folks, shows over. Time to get back to work." Beckett instructed coming to his aid whilst trying her hardest to contain the laughter threatening to burst out of her. The usual buzz returned to the floor as the other members of the 12th's homicide division resumed their duties. "Wanna explain this?" she asked him gesturing towards both the panel in his hand and the black hold now visible in her desk.

"Er, yeah. Um…about that, I-I was…"

"Let me tell you what I think." Beckett chuckled with a twinkle in her eye that told him she still found his little 'mishap' high in comedic value. "I think, you were going through my desk hoping to find some 'evidence' to start compiling your list of people you think are on my list. Am I close?"

There was no point in lying to her, it was her job to discover the truth and she'd bust his tales in a second (providing his words came back long enough to spin a story in the first place). Castle gave a small nod, an affirmative response to her question as he sat back down in his own chair – without wheels – at the side of her desk. He held out the piece of drawer he'd been holding to Beckett, who slid it expertly back into its place.

"I just…You never open that drawer. I thought you might be hiding something in there, something that would help me assemble your list."

"What did you expect to find in there, Castle? My little black book? I've never opened that drawer in front of you because I don't use it. I don't use it because, well, you know now why I don't use it."

"Well I get that, now! Oww!" Castle winced as rubbed his head, laughing a little at his own misfortune in the process. He focused on Beckett, "Wait! You have a little black book?"

"Seriously, that's what you took from all of this?" she couldn't suppress it any longer and let out a rip roaring belly laugh that rumbled from the bottom of her boots to the tip top of head and right on out into the open. "Oh, Castle!"

I wrote this while taking a break from my other fic (which is more heavy on the emotional/angsty side of things) and thought this would be a good lighthearted way to break things up. Please review and let me know what you think so I know whether to keep going with this. :)

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