"What?" Beckett said defensively as Castle grinned at her. Why was he looking at her like that? He paused for a moment with that self satisfied smile, just searching her eyes, before abruptly throwing the pen down and standing upright.

"I was thinking… why don't you stay for a while? I mean it's practically the weekend. You could stay for a few days." He threw an arm around her shoulder and turned her, gesturing to the view outside. "We could hit the beach."

No! No! No! She wasn't going to be seduced by all of this, by him! She was a tough New York homicide detective. She didn't have time for beach houses and weekends away. And besides, Castle was a playboy who collected women and got rid of them when he got bored; she wasn't going to be a collectable!

Beckett had gone quiet. Maybe she was considering it? He risked a sideways glance but she was frowning, and it wasn't a 'should I or should I not,' kind of frown, more like a 'I'm losing the battle and if he doesn't sign that contract soon I'll shoot him dead' kind of frown. The silence stretched on for a few more nail biting seconds until she broke it with a question that he hadn't anticipated.

"Castle," she began.

"Yes?" he replied.

"What is that floating in your pool?"

Opps! He squinted his eyes as if straining to see.

"Leaves?" he suggested.

"No Castle, it's not leaves!"

"It looks like leaves."

She turned to him incredulously. "It's black and lacy!"

He turned to look again. "It is?"

She sighed. How many women had he got on the go now?

"Yes, but it does begin with 'L'," she said, too calmly for his liking. It was the calm before the storm.

"It does?"

"Yes. 'L' for lingerie!" she exclaimed, whacking him in the stomach. He flinched. "What" she emphasised, "is women's lingerie doing floating in your pool?"

She watched as Castle frantically scanned his brain, trying to come up with a good answer.

"Well," he pointed to her, "it's funny you should ask…"

Oh this excuse she was going to love to hear!

"… the woman who lives next door," he put a hand to his chin, contemplating how to continue, "well she hangs out her washing and sometimes…" Beckett took a good look outside. She couldn't even see the house next door it was so far away. She tutted and turned, walking back to the dreaded contract. He followed, "but it probably wasn't that. More likely to be my cleaning lady. She sometimes brings her washing over and…" This was never going to work. He resorted to desperate measures: the truth. "Ok, ill tell you the truth. You'll never believe this but…"

She reached the table, picked up the pen and turned, holding it out to him. "You're right; I will never believe it. Now sign!"

"It's Gina's robe," he admitted, "and when I ran upstairs to get my robe I picked up hers by mistake and threw it, and well… it… floated out of the window." He finished in a rush, quite pleased with himself for being so truthful.

She stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. A frown of confusion flickered over his face.

"Oh that's a good one! It 'floated' out of the window," she quoted him, laughing. "Do you really expect me to believe that?"

He thought for a second and then nodded. "Well…yes actually… because it really did!"

"Right. Just magically 'floated," she chuckled.

"Well, you see it was wispy," he began by means of an explanation.

"Wispy," she echoed, bursting into laughter again.

"And the wind caught hold of it and it… sailed away."

She nodded as if trying to take him seriously but barely holding in her laughter. "Sailed eh, like a yacht." She couldn't hold it in.

"Oh very funny. But it really did sail…I mean float."

When her laughter finally faded, she shook her head at him in pity. He was beyond help.

"As entertaining as this all is, I have to get back to the precinct so…" she slipped the pen into his hand "…sign."

"Ah come on!" he held his hands out to her in appeal. "Just because of some lousy lingerie in the pool? Why does that mean I have to sign?"

She was on the verge of laughing again but no, she had to get through to him.

"No Castle, it's not just that. Because you see, in between the important tasks of writing fiction, beach parties, signing of women's ….whatever it is you sign… and the endless stream of females in and out of your life, I seriously doubt that you have enough time for the less important things like…oh I don't know, finding murderers!"

"Ah ha!" he said suddenly as if catching her out. She looked taken aback for a second. "So that's it. You're judging me and my lifestyle on what you believe to be true, not on what you know." He tutted and shook the pen at her. "Whatever happened to evidence and hard facts?" She took a breath to interrupt but he talked over her quite adamantly. "The truth is that you really don't know me well enough to presuppose. I mean sure, we have this work thing going on," he pointed between himself and her, "but outside of the office, what do we really know about each other? How much non work related time have we actually spent together for you to make judgements like that?"

A frown wrinkled her brow as if he may have made a point there that she hadn't been prepared for.

He was on to something. He'd take full advantage of it.

"I tell you what," he said, moving to her, putting an arm around her waist and placing the pen back on the contract, "I'll do you a deal."

She looked sideways at him suspiciously. "What?"

"You stay here for a couple of days and we can spend some time together and then afterwards, if you still think I'm that shallow then…" he paused, "I'll sign your contract."

Her eyes widened with surprise…and the narrowed with suspicion. No, she wouldn't buy it; it wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to spend time getting to know him more only to be let down by him again. No, she'd made her mind up: two long months of hearing nothing from him and staring at the empty chair beside her desk had made her mind up for her.

She shook her head slowly. "Sorry Castle, some of us have work to get back to," she said with what seemed like almost a hint of regret.

He sighed. He really thought he'd got her on that last idea. Okay, there had been one thing however bugging him at the back of his mind, something that didn't quite fit, but he needed more time to figure it out.

"Alright, but I need ten minutes to think this through." He announced. She frowned. "Ten minutes Beckett, before I put my signature to that legally binding contract," he reasoned, pointing to the paper on the table.

She rolled her eyes but nodded. He'd better sign it afterwards though.

He began to pace around the kitchen table, apparently deep in thought while she watched him with impatience. She stood, looking at her watch every few seconds: ten minutes seemed like it would last forever! She groaned and strode towards the window, shrugging her leather jacket off as she did so and draping it over a chair.

"Damn it's hot in here! Will you hurry up and sign that contract because I'm not going back to Montgomery without it signed," she declared, hoping the mention of Montgomery would prompt him.

He stopped pacing suddenly and swung around. She was wrong, it was what she'd just said that had made him realise something that might mean he wouldn't have to sign away his connection with the NYPD. She was struggling with the catch on the window, it always stuck. Great, the perfect opportunity. He moved around the table to her briefcase and peered inside. Looks like he could be right. His hand was just dipping into it however when she turned again. He dropped his hand but stood with his back to the briefcase, facing her.

"Well?" She folded her arms.

"Well….I don't know," he said slowly.

"Don't know what?" He was playing games now but she was running out of patience.

He put a hand to his mouth in a thoughtful way. "I'm just not sure if…"

She rolled her eyes. "If?" she prompted.

"If…"

And before she knew what was happening he had reached into her briefcase behind his back, pulled out the paper and was holding it up in the air in triumph.

"If I'd rather sign contract number two!"

Her mouth fell open in shock as her eyes homed in on the paper possessively. "Oooh you! Give me that back!"

He held up a finger to her, shaking his head. "Let me just take a look," he said, skim reading the page as he backed away from her. "Ah, an alternative contract, I thought as much."

"Castle!" she exclaimed, advancing around the table to him. He continued to back away.

"Yes, this one is much better. A 'guaranteed two year contract allowing said Mr Richard Castle to continue assisting Detective Katherine Beckett with her investigations.'" He peered over the contract at her. " Two years no less!"

She growled and lunged across the table for the paper in his hand. He whisked it away and rushed into the living room area. She followed in hot pursuit shouting,

"Damn it Castle, you sign that contract and you won't have another two years left to fulfil it!"

"Oooh I love it when you get physical," he laughed as she chased him around the sofa, eventually catching him and grabbing the contract whilst holding his arm behind his back. She might have the contract in her hand but he wasn't going to let go; shed have to rip it to get it away from him!

"Let go of the contract Castle," she warned.

He glanced back at her. "Err…no."

She pulled, but he pulled back and she heard the paper beginning to tear. Damn it, she'd have to let go but no matter, she could overpower him easily.

As soon as he felt Beckett release her hold, he twisted away from her and ran around the other side of the sofa again, glancing around the room for the nearest writing implement.

She stood with her hands on her hips. "This is ridiculous. You do know that I can floor you and have you helpless in seconds," she warned.

His face lit up. "Oooh, I guess that means you'll be on top!"

She rolled her eyes and then suddenly caught him off guard, bolting around the sofa and lunging at him. He hadn't expected her to be quite so energetic or physical and in a moment of pure instinct he whipped his arm around her waist and rolled over the back of the sofa, taking her with him. She landed smack on the cushions and he landed smack on top of her! Then they both froze.

He didn't know what had possessed him to do that but he had the sudden feeling that a boundary had been crossed and he wasn't sure how to proceed. Both Beckett and himself were breathing heavily from their exertions but gradually as the moments passed their breathing slowed and at that point the whole world seemed to slow with them. He searched her eyes for some kind of signal but she simply stared back at him, so silent and still, with an expression he couldn't quite read: one he'd never seen on her before. There was that furrow in her brow of uncertainty and confusion but beneath that was something like shock, surprise and maybe even a hint of realisation. Those underlying indicators sent a sudden shot of excitement coursing though his veins and all at once he was doubly aware of their close proximity: his leg between her thigh, her belly pressed flat against his, but more importantly, he realised where one of his hands had found itself, underneath her on the rounded firmness of her rear. Maybe it was fate; he'd thought about it so may times, even just less than an hour ago! Was this really happening? Was that really his hand there? He curved his fingers slightly just to make sure and yes, it was his hand and yes, it was as fleshy yet firm as he'd thought it might be. Damn, he was aroused!

His eyes shot to hers then when he felt her move slightly and saw her head lifting to his. She paused, her mouth so close to his he could feel her breath against his lips. Oh Lord, this was it!

"Castle," she whispered.

"Hmm," he responded, tingling from head to foot.

"Would you mind removing your hand?" she asked.

He hadn't expected that. That's not how it was supposed to go.

"Or ill break it!" she added, pushing him away from her and rolling off the sofa.

He went to move with her to a standing position but found himself suddenly unable to move past a kneel. He yanked at his left arm but found that it was well and truly stuck, locked to part of the sofa arm with handcuffs! The cunning woman, she'd cuffed him!

He looked up at her helplessly.

"Ha!" she exclaimed with triumph. "You can stay there until you sign this," she said, on her way to the table and returning with the original contract. He noted though that as she stood over him, holding the contract, there was a definite tremble of her hand and shake of the paper.

He smiled. "Good, I love sex games. I could stay here all day playing with you."

She crossed her arms. "Good, you're going to have to, because you're not going anywhere until you've signed."

"You know what I think," he said in a whisper.

"No, what do you think?" she whispered back.

"I think the lady protests too much," he grinned knowingly.

She tutted but then nearly jumped out of her skin when the front doorbell rang loudly through the house. Castle looked somewhat startled too!

"You expecting anybody?" she asked.

He shrugged. "No."

"Well, sign the contract and you can answer the door," she prompted.

"Tell you what, you answer it. I'm a little tied up at the moment," he smiled, holding up the cuffs.

"Ha, very amusing…" she began, before jumping for the second time when a loud rap on the patio doors could be heard.

Both Castle and Beckett looked up in shock to see two police inspectors standing on the patio. Finding the doors unlocked, they walked in and scanned the room with suspicion, finally focusing on castle who had had the foresight to move onto the sofa whilst hiding the cuffs.

"Mr Richard Castle?" a butch, middle aged, intimidating female cop enquired.

"Yes," he held his free hand up as if at school.

The woman flashed her badge. "Hampton Police. We'd like to ask you some questions about a possible homicide that took place in the house next door this morning."

Beckett and Castle turned to each other in shocked bewilderment and then back to the policewoman.

"A Mr Mark Moon was found, we suspect pushed to his death, on the patio below his beach house. Mark Moon, business tycoon, ring any bells?" the woman said with a patronising tone.

Mark Moon, oh no! Beckett turned to Castle with mouth agape and proceeded to whack him against his arm. He recoiled.

"What was that for?" he asked defensively.

She frowned. "You write books and people die!" she said angrily.

The police woman coughed loudly and they both turned back to her. She was staring at Castle, more specifically the handcuffs that were now on show.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, what have we here then?" the woman asked dubiously.

Beckett and Castle's eyes shot to each others and quickly back to the policewoman's. Beckett bit her lip. Castle cringed.

"You'll never believe this but…" they both said in unison.