I know I can get pleased with myself pretty easily, but I really do have to give myself some credit for this one. It's going to be epic. She loves it when I combine my natural talent of goofing off with my other more... natural talents.

The first night that we are actually off at the same time in over two weeks, and we are seriously overdue. This is going to go over so huge. An expensive bottle of wine that I've hidden among her own stock in her kitchen, a rose taken from the bouquet I brought her yesterday, the stereo tuned to track four of that swing band I heard her listening to the other day, a fedora, and half the buttons on my shirt already undone.

You know, to save her some time. I can feel myself pull back a mischievous grin at that thought. She might not even bother undoing them properly after this.

After practicing the trick where I flip the fedora onto my head and succeeding, of course, I click on the stereo and grab the rose from her dresser. "Oh, Beckett!" I call her apartment.

"Yeah," She says to me from the couch.

That's my cue. I throw on my best mysterious smirk and launch myself out of her bedroom door, the fedora in one hand and the rose in another. I slide across her hardwood in my socks, holding my arms out and looking away from her, giving her a ruggedly handsome brooding face, presenting what's in store for her. "Ever do it with a world-famous mystery writer?"

I do the fedora hat flip trick and it lands perfectly on my head. I can only imagine her face now. I run my fingers along the rim and pull my arms in, standing up and crossing them in another pose. "Yeah... yeah, I know, I saw that one." She says, sounding way too uninterested for my liking.

I crack my eyes open and see her sitting cross-legged in the center of her couch with her phone to her ear and her laptop open in front of her. We haven't had a night off in forever. Two weeks is a forever for us. What could possibly be more interesting than this? "What do you think, Beckett?" I try again and put the rose between my teeth, looking over to her under the rim of the fedora. "Don't you want me?" I ask over the rose in my mouth. This thing tastes way worse than it looks.

She looks over to me with one hand holding her phone to her ear and the other on the mousepad of her laptop. "No, I don't really like that look."

I can feel a rock drop into my stomach at her... well, her insult. I'm in my blue pin-striped shirt, she loves this shirt. She told me the last time she took it off of me. I'll grant her we were both a bit tipsy, but still... she loves this shirt. No need to let this get me down, "Come on, Beckett." I try again as she looks back down to the screen in front of her and take the rose out of my mouth, holding it down to my exposed chest. "Your favorite part about this shirt is taking it off."

"No, not that one. The red one." She says and leans closer to the screen, clicking on the mousepad.

I can feel myself come to a stop and let my arms fall to the side. This is so not how I had this scene written out in my head. She's ruining my story! "My red shirt?"

"Yeah, I like the red one better." She tells her phone. I sink my teeth down into the inside of my lip and let my shoulders slump. She's not even paying attention. She's talking on her phone. The one night off we have together and even now, she's on her phone. "Yeah, I love that one. That's a great look."

She can't be serious. She's spending our night together online shopping with... whoever that is intruding and stomping all over this night? I swear, if it's Lanie, I'm going to have to be talked out of calling the mayor and having her fired, or at the very least suspended. I can do that, right? No worries, this can still be salvaged. I smile and reach into her bedroom, pulling out the pair of wine glasses with one hand and try once again, hopefully with better results this time, to get her attention.

"Instead of playing dress up with your friends, wouldn't you much rather," I say and practically gallop across her apartment to snag the bottle of wine I snuck in to surprise her with, "play dress down with your favorite writer?"

"I have that one, it goes so great with those boots I showed you."

This is getting to be unbelievable. And I can believe quite a bit. I look out to nowhere and start mocking. "Sure, Castle, I'd love to have some of that really expensive wine you bought right before you take me to the bedroom and-"

"Hey, Sof? I've gotta go, my partner's bugging me."

"Bugging you?!" I say, not even attempting to hide the incredulousness in my tone.

"Okay, say hi to Aunt Theresa for me. Bye." With an untroubled smile, she presses her thumb to her phone and swings her legs out from underneath her and stands up. "Where were we?" She asks me with that same smile, almost as if she's taunting me.

At this point, the fedora is hanging tilted back on my head and the fact that my shirt is hanging open simply looks like I forgot to button it up all the way. "Well, we were just going over how your boyfriend seems to be... 'bugging you'." I tell her angrily, quoting her with my hands full of the wine and a set of glasses.

"I was on the phone with my cousin, Castle." She waves her hand at me as if she's dismissing why I'm even angry. Or simply me altogether, I'm too frustrated with her to choose between the two. She steps around her coffee table and eyes the bottle in my hand, not even a hint of being overwhelmed or giddy, like I had hoped.

"So, looking at clothes with your cousin, whom by your own admission is a chore to talk to, is more worthy of your one night together with your boyfriend then say..." I roll my eyes and pout my lips, waving the glasses in front of her, waiting for her to get my point, which she clearly doesn't get by the innocent look in her eye. "Me, maybe?"

"Is that a new wine?" She asks me, pointing at the bottle in my hand.

"Yes," the detective finally seems to have detected something. I put the bottle forward and let her read the label, hoping she realizes that it was pretty pricey. "I picked it up after my meeting at Black Pawn and snuck it in to surprise you."

"You couldn't have gotten a red?" She asks and finally gives me her eyes.

But it's a look of shrugging her shoulders and clearly being unsatisfied with... well, the whole endeavor, maybe of even whatever it is we're doing here. "This is a four- hundred dollar bottle of wine, Beckett!"

"Still," She quips as if it's nothing and takes the bottle from me.

As I grit my teeth to keep myself from yelling again, I feel my body deflate. I give up. This whole thing was stupid from the get-go. What a waste of time. "Why do I even bother?!" I seethe to myself while turning around and going back into her bedroom.

I'm only two steps into the room, buttoning back up my shirt, feeling completely stupid, when I hear her following me. "Castle?" She calls, as if she doesn't even know what went wrong. She can't seriously be that dense. "Castle, I was on the phone. Is that so wrong?"

I'm buttoning up my cuffs as I turn back around with a clearly fake smile. "Oh, not at all." I say to her and turn around to face her, looking at her expression of looking as if she's innocent. "It's not as if your phone is to your ear enough at work. Why not have it there during the one night you have together with your boyfriend after he planned an evening of expensive wine and world-shaking sex?"

She smiles widely seems to want to start sauntering toward me. "Well, we can still do that." She quips and opens her arms. "Come here." She beckons.

"Oh, no," I stop her in her tracks by raising my hand. "After all, I wouldn't want to bug you." I say and step around her after her arms fall back down to her sides, along with her smile. I make it into the living room after grabbing the bottle of useless wine off her coffee table to… do something with, give it to a wine-o outside maybe.

"I didn't mean it like that, Castle. Now, come on, we can still play dress up if you want?" She tries her sultry voice. I can tell by her tone that she's waggling her eyebrows and giving me a grin, but I'm not bothering to look. I'm far past the point of coming back from being mad at her to be pulled back by one of her sexy grins, as sexy as it may be.

But the universe seems to never fail to give us an out, whether we want it or not, as her phone just started to go off on her couch. I look over my shoulder to the screen of her phone with a blank expression etched on my face, then back over to her. She's standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking angrily at her phone.

"Better get that," I tell her and turn around, meandering backward into her kitchen. I decide to leave it there. Throwing out another sarcastic quip about her cousin would just make matters far worse.

In two long strides, she grabs up her phone then turns back to look up at me with a disengaging arch in her brow. "It's the precinct. Okay, babe?"

Her use of a pet name tries to knock through the armor I'm putting over myself. I can feel it. It's cute and I love it when she uses them in bed and if all had gone according to plan, hearing it would have driven me crazy. But clearly, not tonight.

I'm getting the twisting feeling in my gut that I should have just gone home after that meeting. This wouldn't have happened, say… two or three nights ago. There's no real way to be sure. Maybe two or three weeks ago, for sure. That night after the bomb incident was one of our best nights. Both of us just celebrating life itself by passionately going at each other until the sun came back up the next morning. I haven't let myself think it until now, that she hasn't said it again. Not even in passing. It's probably my own fault though. I've been afraid to test the waters.

But tonight, I had my toe out and ready to dip back in, had the words practiced in my head and formed on my tongue, ready to fire. I was ready, far passed willing, and very very able to tell her, once again, that she's the woman I love. Some fantasy that turned out to be. I can't let myself think that she didn't mean what she said that day. Not now. I'm angry and frustrated with her neglecting me, especially tonight… for clothes with her cousin.

She doesn't even like Sofia. She told me last week that she found Sofia to be an annoying, stuck up, know-it-all. But I'm sure telling her that will definitely soothe things over between us and get her to see what a let down she's turning this, and us, into. I mean, there was a time not too long ago when an act like that would have gotten her so hot and bothered, there would have been a trail of fire leading into the bedroom.

Not anymore, it seems. Now, clothes with an annoying, stuck up, know-it-all seems to be more interesting than me.

"We'll be right there." She says into her phone before setting it back down and turning back to me with an apologetic arch in her brow. "We've got a case." She doesn't waste any time in shooting past me and into her bedroom to get dressed properly.

"Yeah, the case of who killed our night together." I say loudly from her foyer.

"Castle, can we please not get into this now? We have a killer to catch!" She calls back from her bedroom.

"No, you're right!" I call back, a wave in my voice as she comes back out in a pair of heeled boots and a long, blue London Fog. "Tell me, Detective, what's the prison sentence for murdering a night of romance with your boyfriend?" With that, I spin around and head for the door, leaving her to follow me for once. I'm flinging her door open as I think up another retort in my head, "Because I'd like to make a citizen's arrest."

"That's so not how that works, Castle."

She just always has to have the last word, doesn't she? We're both striding angrily down the hall of her apartment building to head down to the street and it isn't until I round the corner that she catches up to me at my side. I send her a glare, silently to let her know that I'm frustrated with the situation. It seems to work too well and backfire when I'm met with an angrier glare from her. I still don't know who I'm angrier at; her or us.

The sprinkle of the night air as we step outside seems to bring me back to some of my senses. We just had an off night. It happens, even to the best of couples like ourselves. But… no, this was our night, we both knew that and had it planned and confirmed to spend it together. She should have known that. She practically threw it all in my face and had the nerve to act like I was the one bugging her? I deserve to be the one angry at the other person for once. Even if that person is the woman I'm in love with, I'm allowed to be angry.

Right?

A/N: Thought I'd give writing in first-person a shot. I've written a story in first-person for another fandom which did pretty well, (Not A Soul! If you want to Google it). I always thought that 5x22 would have done a lot more for our favorite couple if the roles were reversed, so… that's what I'm doing. The POV's are going to shift from time to time. The POV's are going to be indicated through wording and dialogue.

Thanks for all the ups and support for my writing, especially for those of you who made my last story as successful as it was. I have high hopes for this story as well. Let me know! :)