Author's Note: This one has a bit of different vibe to it. Perhaps it's because I have a horrible head cold and have medicated myself to the gills. Hopefully, you will still find it giggle-inducing.

III.

Castle sighed. When Beckett had seen his predicament, all she had done was pause for a moment and raise an eyebrow ever-so-slightly, but she might as well have pointed and laughed. He wouldn't have blamed her.

"Yes," he said with as much dignity as he could muster, "I'm stuck in a net, and it's hilarious." He shifted, and the net creaked as he swayed back and forth, suspended a good seven feet above the warehouse floor.

Beckett moved cautiously into the room, checking for their suspect. "She's gone," Castle supplied from his superior vantage point. "She ran out the back a few minutes ago."

"What?" Beckett loped to the back door and was outside before Castle could do more than let out an indignant, "Hey!"

He had hoped she would help him down before she went running off. Grunting a little, he managed to haul himself into a standing position—or a semblance of one, anyway. He clung to the weave and examined the hook from which he was suspended, wondering if he could free himself without severe injury.

He was startled by the sound of the door slamming open. Beckett stormed back into the room, an irritated expression on her face. Frustration was rolling off of her in waves. Apparently, her search had confirmed what Castle had already told her. Biting back an 'I told you so,' Castle instead asked, "A little help, please?"

Beckett paced around him, eyeing the set-up. "How in the hell did you manage to get caught in a net, Castle?"

"Can't I finish living through the experience before I relive it?" he asked, trying not to whine.

Beckett let out a quiet snort. "Fine," she said as she raised her weapon.

"That's not what I meant!" Castle's voice leaped a few octaves as he instinctively tried to retreat. He only succeeded in entangling himself further.

"I'm not going to shoot you," Beckett said, rolling her eyes.

He stared at her, unappeased. "Why do you have to shoot anything? There are less shoot-y ways to get me down."

"Maybe," Beckett conceded, "but this way's quicker. You should probably duck." Without further ado, she commenced firing on the net.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

"Whoa!" Castle fell into an awkward crouch. "Beckett, look, the control for the winch is right there." He flailed one hand in the direction of the controls.

Beckett paused, eyeing the controls for a moment. "Oh. Thanks." And with that, she turned and started shooting at the control box.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

"That's not—why would you—Beckett, for the love of God!" Castle sputtered as his partner emptied her clip into the control box.

"Shut up, Castle," Beckett said coolly, "I've almost got it." Sparks flew, and with a sudden jerk, the cable went slack. Hook, net, and writer tumbled to the ground. Castle hit the floor hard and rolled, and by the time he came to a stop, he was so thoroughly entangled that he could do little more than wriggle.

Beckett put her gun away and crouched beside him, looking far more cheerful than she had a moment ago. "You okay?"

"I've been better." Castle pouted at her. "Help?"

"Hold still," she said, tugging at the net. It took her the better part of a minute to free him, her amusement increasing all the while. She managed to refrain from laughing outright, but his pride had taken enough of a blow that laughter couldn't have made things much worse.

"There we go," Beckett said as she peeled back the last bit of netting. Castle sat up, brushed himself off, and sniffed. Furrowing her brow a little, she asked, "Seriously, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Castle replied, allowing her to help him up. "It's just…" he hesitated, apprehensive, "you're going to tell Ryan and Esposito about this, aren't you?"

"Oh, Castle." Beckett laid a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look that was almost tender. "I'm going to tell everyone."