Hello, everyone! Welcome to my Caskett fic.

So, this chapter is not rated M, but the story is because I'm getting there. This chapter is pretty much just setting the stage for the real story. For now, though, join Katherine Beckett and Richard Castle on a whole new kind of adventure.

Disclaimer: I am not fortunate enough to call myself the owner of Castle.

They sat in the precinct. Beckett sat at her desk, while Castle sat at Esposito's desk with Esposito and Ryan flanking him, hunched over his shoulders. Gates, of course, shut herself up in her office.

It was two o'clock on a Friday afternoon and there were no murders to solve and everybody was perfectly bored. Esposito, Ryan, and Castle had taken to playing Temple Run on Castle's phone to pass the time. However, Castle periodically looked up every few minutes to steal a glance at Beckett, who was diligently finishing paperwork. It was one of these stolen peeks that he caught Beckett looking back at him.

Their eyes locked and he immediately got lost in those big green eyes. He cursed himself for the cliché, but her eyes truly were windows to her soul. Neither of them could summon up the will to look away until Castle's conquistador crashed into a tree and Ryan and Esposito smacked him upside the head and started on about what a rookie mistake he made.

Beckett chuckled from across the room.

"Hey, it's not like you could do any better, Beckett! Two. Point. Five. Million. BOOM." Castle's challenging voice was hardly something Beckett could resist or refuse.

Beckett raised her eyebrows and smiled at Castle. He did not know what he was getting himself into. On the other hand, maybe she did not quite know what she was getting herself into either.

She slowly rose from her desk and sauntered over to him, knowing full well that every step she took was pure torture for Castle. She secretly loved the way he looked at her like she was Eva Longoria.

"Hand it over Writer-Boy." She stuck out her hand for the phone.

By the looks of it, Castle may have been in shock. He fumbled for a moment before he successfully guided his hand to Beckett's to give her the phone. Their hands touched in the exchange. Electricity shot up both of their arms. Beckett quickly withdrew her hand, silently praying that her heartbeat was not as audible to the rest of the room as it was in her ears.

"Wait, what's in it for me if you fail to beat my score, Beckett?" They couldn't just play for nothing, right? It was a rare occasion that Beckett joined in on his games, and by golly, he was going to make this a memorable one.

"What do you want, Castle?" She rolled her eyes; it was so like him to have to up the ante.

"Mother is teaching a dancing class to Broadway tunes. She roped me into three classes. Tonight is the last one and we all need to bring a dancing partner. If you cannot beat my score, you have to be my partner."

"Broadway dancing?"

"Broadway partner dancing. And you are my partner."

"Fine, Castle, should I fail to earn more than 2.5 million points in Temple Run, I will be your dance partner tonight." She rolled her eyes. She had nothing to worry about; she could beat him easy.

"What do I get if I win?" Although… if Beckett remembered correctly, Castle was a fairly good dancer… and she could definitely tease him for weeks with something like that.

"I will… uh… what do you want?"

"If I win, you have to cook me dinner." There: win-win for Katherine Beckett. "And do the dishes when we're done."

"Deal."

A few minutes later, Beckett was still trying to decide if she wanted to dance with Castle or make Castle cook. At 2.4 million, Beckett decided the dancing was probably a onetime chance, the cooking was not. She "missed" a turn and fell off the edge.

"Well pretty lady, get your dancing shoes because we're going dancing!" Castle's face was one of child-like glee. And one of arrogance and a freshly inflated ego from winning.

Beckett put on a fake pout and handed back the phone. This one better work out better than the last time I let Castle win a bet, she thought.

"What time?"

"I'll pick you up at seven. Oh, and the dress code says you must wear a dress you can move in and dance heels. If you don't have them, tell me your shoe size and I'll buy you some."

"I think I can manage, Castle." And with that, Kate swaggered back to her desk like nothing ever happened. Just the way she sat back down had Castle fighting off urges like he was a teenage boy all over again.

…

Beckett entered her apartment trying to remember where she had left her old dance clothes. Yes, Katherine Beckett took years of dance, though she would never openly admit it to anyone. She took classes, danced on teams, and eventually even taught classes when she turned eighteen. But, when her mother died, the self-expression of dance flew out of the window when she built the wall to protect herself. Now, she scrambled to locate one of her dresses and her t-strap character heels.

Eventually, she located one usable dress. It was red with a fitted sequined bodice and a flowing skirt. It was practically backless, only a few strips of material stretched across her back in order to hold the front up. It would drive Castle crazy, and therefore, she loved it.

She buckled her nude colored t-strap characters just as she heard a strong knock on the door. Damn! He was almost twenty minutes early, it was a good thing she was ready early.

"Castle, you're—"

"I know, I'm early, I thought maybe I should feed you before we exercise, so I brought pizza." He had yet to look up at her, mostly focusing on the armful of food, as he shuffled into her apartment.

When he managed to look at her, his jaw dropped and the food almost went with it.

"Beckett, you look—you are—Kate, you're stunning," he choked out. Generally, Richard Castle was good with words, but when it came to Beckett, he constantly found himself at a loss for coherent thought, let alone words, especially in that dress.

Beckett couldn't resist her smile. Her choice in clothing was a definite success, and he hadn't even seen the back yet!

"Yeah, yeah, hand over the food, I'm starving. Do you want a drink?" she made sure to cross him closer than necessary on her way to the kitchen for plates and drinks. She knew the exact moment that he noticed the back of her dress because he drew in a sharp, audible, breath.

"Ice cold water would be great," and Beckett couldn't be too sure, but she thought she heard him add "to take a shower in right about now," under his breath.

Beckett decided that she sure would enjoy making Castle squirm tonight.

And maybe, just maybe, he would make her squirm later on tonight, too.

The food was delicious, the conversation divine, and the company superb. It was hard to believe something that great was just pizza in a messy apartment. But with Castle, nothing, not even pizza, was normal or mundane.

A half hour later, Castle cleaned up, assisted Beckett with her coat, and escorted her downstairs.

"I'm driving, Castle." Beckett stuck out her hands for his keys.

"No, you are not driving my Ferrari, Beckett." He opened the passenger side door for her.

She cocked one eyebrow at him, her hand still stretched out, expecting the keys. If Castle didn't know any better, he would've sworn there was a playful glint in her eyes.

"Fine, here." Castle passed over his keys to his precious red Ferrari to the only other person he would ever let sit in the driver's seat.

Beckett slid in behind the wheel with perfect grace, except for the fact that her skirt slid up way too high. Castle saw this and nearly lost his marbles. She looked stunning enough already. Throw in a very powerful car and a raunchily hiked up dress, and his overactive imagination began to run away with him.

Beckett climbing on top of him, straddling him, and taking advantage of him. Beckett pinned up on the hood of his shiny red car. Him sprawled across her ripping off her clothes. His mind was full of the possibilities involving one Detective Katherine Beckett and one very red Ferrari.

It took everything he had not to reach out and place a hand on that gorgeous thigh, not to inch that hand up below the very little that the dress still covered. They were more than half way there by now, and she still had not bothered to pull down her dress! It was as if she was trying to drive him mad.

And she was. She knew what reaction she drew from him. She loved it. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him struggle, watched him try desperately not to stare at her starkly exposed legs.

The air in the car grew thick, neither one speaking because they were afraid to share the risqué thoughts running through their minds. Castle was more than grateful to step out of the car. The cold winter air did him good. Beckett was disappointed when they finally arrived and he still had not reached for her leg. For one with his reputation, he had amazing self-restraint. They simultaneously took a deep breath and Castle began to lead Beckett into the dance class.

"You ready for this, Beckett?"

"I think the question is are you ready?"

"Oh, I'm ready, you know that. Now back to you." Beckett was not even sure if they were talking about dancing anymore.

She leaned into him, and even though they were alone now, she whispered in his ear, as if it was a huge secret, "You have no idea."

In all honesty, though, neither did she.

A/N: Ahem… if you want to see what I'm picturing for Beckett's dress, here is a picture: . . Only think Ferrari red instead of the pink and get rid of the neck and wrist accessories.