Unlike every other New Yorker stuck in gridlock at that very moment, Kate Beckett wasn't cursing up a storm at the idiots who had decided it was a bright idea to close down one of the main roads in Manhattan so they could repair a broken pipe. In fact, Beckett was rather pleased with the extra minutes she got to spend at the wheel...if only because it allowed her a bit more time with a certain writer that sat beside her.

Her plan to win Castle's friendship (and then his heart) was going rather nicely, if slowly. She had been buttering him up with pastries for the last week, had been a bit more polite too him (without getting too sugary... after all, part of the reason Castle had fallen for her was her fire and it would do no good if she doused that), and had been working on other ways to show him that she cared. Quiet smiles after he made a bad joke, brushing shoulders with him (even if that felt so childish) and quick stolen glances all filled her playbook.

Two days ago she had decided to move onto step three: Drive Castle home instead of making him take a cab. When she had been plotting out her attack on his heart, Beckett had been ashamed to realize that his apartment building was on her way home from the precinct. She'd forced him to waste money on cab fare when she could have driven him herself. A simple thing, sure, but yet another mistake she had made, taking for granted that he had to find some way home.

Thus, her offer to drive him home, which had pleased him too no end and allowed her a few more precious minutes alone with him.

The traffic jam offered her a chance to try out step four, another issue she was ashamed to have failed to do back when Castle was pining for her.

"So, how goes the next Nikki Heat book?"

Castle shook his head, breaking out of his daydream (which Beckett vainly wished involved her, a bikini and a secluded beach). "Huh?"

"The next Nikki Heat book? You know, the reason you follow me around?" Beckett teased, glad that the normal venom that would color such a question was absent.

"Making sure I'm not ruining your reputation?" Castle teased. Beckett hid her frown, however, when she noticed that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes; that was something she had noticed only recently and made her soul tremble. When had Richard Castle stopped having that twinkle and become so...down? He reminded her of that droopy dog from the old 50s cartoons, with the saggy jowls, when he should have been bouncing around like Tigger, ready to pounce on anyone that happened to get near.

"Totally," Beckett said, hoping she came off as breezy. She wanted to play this light. "Last thing I need is for you to turn Nikki Heat into some fuddy duddy."

"Fuddy duddy? What are you, 50?"

"Hey, fuddy duddy is a perfectly acceptable term!" Beckett countered.

Castle harrumphed. "Sure it is." He was quiet for a moment and Beckett feared he wouldn't take the bait. She creeped up a few feet, only for the cars in front of her to slam on their brakes and lay on their horns. "And what do you mean, making her fuddy duddy?"

Beckett resisted the urge to do a happy dance in her seat, instead focusing on the road ahead. "I'm just worried that you are going to run out of ideas and make her boring. I mean, she's already run from masked gunmen and escaped electrical torture...where do you go next? Last thing I need is you opening your next book with her knitting or something."

"Knitting?" Castle questioned, a ghost of a laugh dancing past his lips.

"Yeah, you know, "Nikki Heat stared down at the sweater she was trying to knit, cursing the evil snag that threatened to ruin the entire thing"."

Castle stared at her for a moment, the sound of horns punctuating the silence, before he burst out laughing. "You have GOT to be kidding me."

Beckett shrugged. "Ok, maybe a bit much, but I just need to watch out for my fictional self. Can't have her making me look like some boring sack of dirt that sits around her apartment watching Masterpiece Theater."

"Don't worry, she won't be boring. I was thinking more of having the next book open with her watching soaps and eating bon bons."

"Do you even know what a bon bon is, Rick?"

"Can't say I do," Castle admitted, not even noticing that Beckett had called him by his first name (another on her list). "Ok, how would you start the next book then, since you are soooooo worried about me back it a snooze-fest?"

Beckett felt a naughty grin tugging on her lips. "Sex scene."

"Sex scene?" Of all the things she could have asked, that was the last Castle expected.

"Oh yeah...something like, "Nikki leaned down, capturing one of Jameson's flat nipples between her teeth, pulling and teasing it. Her hands slid down his bare sides, ghost along the waist line of his boxers, hinting of the things that would come. Releasing the nub, Nikki slowly rose up, her legs still wrapped around Jameson's waist as she arched her back, letting him drink in every inch of her nude form as she reached towards the ceiling, every movement like that of a lazy cat, satisfied after catching a plump mouse and now preparing to take her time enjoying the spoils of her hunt. Jameson knew exactly who the predator was in this bedroom...and who was the prey...""

Beckett glanced over at Castle, watching him breath a bit quicker, skin flush and leg bouncing up and down as if caught in an earthquake. Another...tale-tell sign showed her that her little story had delivered upon the desired effect.

"Well..." Castle stammered, clearly trying to get his brain to function (a difficult task since all the blood had drained from it, rushing down south to another vital organ), "that is...uh...one way to start it."

Beckett smirked, turning off the congested road and heading towards the parking garage that sat behind Castle's building. When he realized where she was going, Beckett merely waved off his questions, explaining that she wanted to give Martha her best wishes on the new play she was starring in. Castle accepted this, his brain still muddled and unable to think of a good protest.

They rode the elevator in silence, Castle standing just close enough to her to make her skin go goose pimple and her heart to ache. She wanted so much to just lean over and rest her head on his shoulder, but knew that she needed to wait, if she were to follow her plan.

"Darling!" Martha called out, dressed in a long flowing gown that most people would have worn to a formal event but she chose as casual wear, a wine glass in hand. Alexis was seated on the couch, glancing up as her father and Beckett entered. "And Detective Beckett, how nice to see you again!"

"Hello Martha," Beckett said pleasantly. "Alexis."

"Hello Detective Beckett," Alexis stated, shutting her book.

Castle kissed his mother on the cheek before moving to Alexis, pressing his lips to her forehead before glancing at the book she had been so engrossed in. "Reading another one of the kid's books?"

Alexis nodded. "The Ace in the Hole...I didn't think Mr. Allen could outdo The Barefoot Witch..."

"Just remember, if it weren't for me, the kid wouldn't have a career." Castle glanced over at Beckett, as if expecting her to making her well wishes and hurrying out. Beckett, for her part, realized that she had come up her, planning to find an excuse to spend some time with his family, but was now unable to think of a good reason to stay.

"Richard, darling, Paula left a message asking you to call her. Something about confirming your appearance at the Writer's Conference..."

Castle nodded, making his apologizes to Beckett before hurrying to his office. Beckett watched him go, then turned to give Martha her best wishes...only to find both Martha and Alexis staring at her.

"Uh...something wrong?"

"Indeed, my dear," Martha said.

"What?" Beckett said dumbly.

"When were you going to inform us you are courting my son?"

Alexis nodded, a slightly sinister gleam filling her eyes. "And how can we help?"