"Stop staring, Castle." Beckett finished writing her sentence, growing more and more sick of paperwork. The tiresome duty was made worse by the constant burn of Castle's eyes on her side.

He just smiled at her, full of cheer, before yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"I've told you a hundred times: it's creepy," she continued.

He leaned forward. "You track down killers every day without breaking a sweat. Someone so much as looks at you for too long and that creeps you out?" She just smirked. "I'm bored," he whined.

She leaned toward him in response, batting her eyes without meaning to, intoxicated by his proximity. "You get bored far too easily."

He sat back in his seat, gulping, looking at her green eyes in wonder. "Hey, take it up with the lazy criminals in this city. And when you do, take me along. It's so hot when you-"

She slammed her pen down a little too hard, glaring at him in a challenging way, daring him to finish that sentence before she could reach her gun.

He held his hands up in surrender, yawning again. Beckett continued scribbling down details of her latest case, sighing at the amount of blank spaces left on the page. It was already a long day, and it was hardly past noon.

Castle looked away, glancing back at her discretely every so often. She noticed, but didn't have the energy to say anything. At least he wasn't talking.

She worked in silence for twenty minutes before she noticed it: Castle wasn't making a peep. There were no tapping feet, crazy stories, songs being hummed, or pens beating out a rhythm. Nothing was disturbing her peace.

When she turned to see what the hell was going on, she saw his head lolled back and his lips slightly parted.

Kate laughed at the image of Castle asleep at her desk, drool falling from the corner of his mouth and his nose scrunching up every few seconds.

The peaceful, innocent look only lasted a moment before his lips turned up into a lopsided grin that could only mean trouble. "Beckett," he whispered in a tone that was almost a moan.

She sat up straighter, the shock shooting adrenaline through her body. If anyone heard that…maybe he wouldn't say it again. God, Esposito and Ryan weren't far away, and the sound carried well from her spot in the middle of the room.

"Beckett," he mumbled again, shifting in his seat. "Oh, Beckett." Please tell me he isn't having that kind of dream…Esposito looked over and saw her alarmed expression, his brow furrowing.

This had to stop before he figured out exactly what Castle was dreaming about.

She kicked the leg of his chair without moving her torso, her eyes remaining glued to her paper. Castle shot up, looking around frantically and wiping away the drool.

"What the hell was that for?" He was still half-asleep and confused, his voice groggy and low.

Kate felt her cheeks heat and turn red. "Uh." She cleared her throat, waiting a second for her blush to fade. "If I can't sleep, neither can you. Go home if you want to nap," she said in an inviting tone, more than happy with that scenario.

Castle grumbled, crossing his legs. "Didn't have to be so abrupt. That's no way to wake someone."

She glared and returned to her work, her mind focusing more on what she'd just heard, wondering what he could have been thinking to make him say her name. Not just say her name, either. It was the way he said it that brought another blush to her cheeks.

Castle didn't fail to notice. "Something on your mind, Detective?" He went from looking curious to looking suspicious when her cheeks went a darker shade of red.

She shook her head once and continued ignoring him, which only fueled his desire to agitate.

"Really? Looks to me like you're embarrassed about something going on in that head of yours. I won't laugh." His smile said otherwise.

"Quiet, Castle. I want to go home sometime today, and I can't finish with you talking incessantly." At this point, finishing her paragraph was impossible, and she began to scribble off to the side in order to look busy.

"You really don't want me to know? It must be pretty good." He prodded at her mercilessly with no intention of giving up. It was written all over his face. Something she didn't want him to know was something he absolutely had to know.

Why he insisted on sitting around on his ass all day while she did paperwork was a complete mystery to Beckett. Observing was a big part of her job. It got dull to look for too long; she knew this for a fact. Writing wasn't interesting to do, much less watch.

"Seriously, Castle. Drop it." She was composed now, anger overpowering everything else she was feeling: embarrassment, curiosity, and a tug in her stomach that warmed her heart while unsettling her at the same time.

Challenge accepted. He'd quickly learned that the best way to drag something out of Beckett was to bother her until she decided it wasn't worth keeping to herself.

The moment he thought this, something flickered in his eyes. They were sparkling mischievously, lit up with possibility, and it was the single thing she dreaded facing most in her day.

Years of working in a male-dominant career luckily taught her how to handle these situations. She put her pen down with purpose, swiveling her chair around to face him. "You want to let this go," she told him.

"Do I?" He clasped his hands together and flashed her a cheeky smile.

Turning back to her desk, she looked over to see that the boys had left for a late lunch. No one was around.

"Oh, Beckett," she mimicked, trying to suppress the heat rushing to multiple places in her body. She hated that it drew this reaction from her. Knowing that Castle had steamy dreams about her shouldn't have been so pleasing.

His eyes grew wide. "What…" He couldn't manage to string together a sentence. He remembered vividly what he'd been dreaming about only minutes before.

"You're quite the sleep-talker, Castle." She managed to hold back a laugh, but her eyes were smiling for her.

He sat stock-still, horror overwhelming him, and for a few brief seconds, he couldn't breathe.

She let out a laugh; it grew in intensity when she saw his face. "I told you to drop it."

He began to chuckle to cover up his mortification, and they both fed on the laughter of the other until it was all they could do to sit up and Castle no longer cared that she knew.

"You're an inspiration in more ways than one," he joked.

She met his eyes, a retort ready, when she was caught off-guard by the genuine, serious look he bore.

A warmth spread from her stomach to the tips of her toes and back again, and she couldn't look away.

This isn't a freudian slip, really, but it is a slip. The next one will be. I have it planned out and everything. Thanks for your kind reviews.