(Untitled)

[fanofthegenre]

Minimalist EP.

Minimalist homicide detective.

The combination today is: Coffee, couch, Castle's latest novel.

Interruptions okay.

Comments

[bestsellingego]

Castle has a copy of Strunk's Elements of Style under his arm and a modular scarf stuffed under his chin. When he gestures with the former, the latter flaps and waves like a tongue of grammatical democracy.

He plunks down next to Beckett, causing the cushions to rock her like a swell rocks a small skiff.

"That can't be what I think it is." He nods to the book in her hands.

[bestsellingego]

"Which reminds me --" he shakes his cuff away from his wrist and gives his watch a shriveling look "-- I've got to be in the captain's office in, like, a half an hour. He wants to know how we can spin the PR angle for Heat Wave."

He doesn't look particularly eager to get going, though, and makes his limbs loose and floppy on the couch.

"Caseload must be pretty slim this week, huh?"

[fanofthegenre]

"That mean the rest of us can be graced with the presence of more photoshoots?"

Beckett doesn't sound too pleased with the idea - which is obvious enough.

"For now. Though I wouldn't be surprised if things pick up right when I head back out."

[bestsellingego]

He doesn't comment on the photoshoot idea. The one for Heat Wave had actually been on the tame side compared to the rest of them.

"The city that never sleeps never stops sinning."

[fanofthegenre]

"Don't I know it."

She spares a look for her door.

"There's no reason to put off the inevitable."

[bestsellingego]

He taps the back of the book with his knuckle. "You sure?' he asks. "This is the most attention from you I've gotten all week. I don't know. I kind of like it."

[fanofthegenre]

Something like a smirk - oh, let's face it, it's a smirk plain and simple - shows up on Beckett's lips.

"You missed me, Castle?"

She's baiting him, and they both know it.

[bestsellingego]

He squirms uncomfortably in response. This is their game -- did you or didn't you? In actuality, it excites Castle more than he's willing to let on.

"Heat Wave was the first in a series," he defends. "Gotta' get back to the grindstone."

[fanofthegenre]

"Of course. But in order to get that inspiration, I have to be doing something, right?"

Beckett's eyes turn mischievous.

"What if I just sat here all day? What would you do then?"

[bestsellingego]

"I would say that you were finally learning to loosen up."

[fanofthegenre]

She's bluffing. She wouldn't be able to keep still.

It's one of the things they both take issue with.

"Don't get excited."

[bestsellingego]

"So we go back to the precinct, find a stiff, catch the collar, exchange some light, innuendo-laced banter --" he slaps his palms lightly together "-- and then it's another all-nigher for me and a bath for you."

A beat.

"We could really save time and effort by marrying those two concepts, you know."

[fanofthegenre]

Beckett stares.

And stares some more.

"This is going to be an evening where art does not imitate life, Castle."

[bestsellingego]

He knows. Half the time, he only says those crazy and outlandish things because he gets such a kick out of how she takes them. Kate Beckett jaw drops like nobody he's ever met.

"You're packing right now, aren't you?" He nods the answer for you. "And you're considering aiming it at something important, okay." He picks up Strunk and tucks it under his arm.

[fanofthegenre]

Beckett rises to her feet.

"Ever the observer of details. Castle, I'd think you would know that better that anyone."

Yet, somehow, he gets away with saying things like that. And somehow, she lets him.

[bestsellingego]

He scoops up her empty coffee cup and saucer -- ever the gentleman -- and deposits them at the end of the bar.

"Oh believe me, I know my place."