"Remember, if any of you so much as breathe a word of this to Detective Beckett, it'll be nothing but recitations from Heat Wave for a week."

"Come on, Ricky," Esposito said, darting aside to avoid the tall cardboard box cradled in Castle's arms as he came careening into the department. "Your girlfriend already made us read your entire collected works during the copycat case."

"Then you must be dying for some of my new material," Castle joked, setting the heavy box on a desk next to a nameplate that read DET BECKETT. Ryan and Esposito crowded around his shoulders to peer over at the box's contents as Castle's head and arms disappeared into it.

"How much did you bring?" Ryan asked.

"Enough for two," Castle said, pulling out two tall brass candlestick holders in one hand and two long-stemmed wine glasses in the other. "Sorry, boys."

"I want some leftover cake," Esposito demanded, pointing at him menacingly.

"Cake," Castle said to himself, pausing mid-way between pulling out deep-red napkins. "How could I have forgotten cake?"

"Ooh-hoo-hoo," Esposito hummed. "Nice."

"Does she like cake?" Castle asked skeptically, scrunching up his nose. "She doesn't strike me as much of a fudge fiend."

"Tahitian vanilla," Ryan said, clasping a hand on Castle's shoulder. "And real strawberries. No conserves. And occasionally Italian crème, but only if it's baked into the centre and chilled."

"Are you serious?" Castle asked, making a sour face. "That specific?"

"You should hear her seafood order," Esposito said, sitting on the edge of his desk. "You can't take her to half the decent seafood restaurants in New York."

"How long have you guys been working together?" Castle asked, feeling a slight pang of jealousy he tried to pass off as mild curiosity. She always seemed so anti-social; when did these guys ever have a chance to take her out?

"Couple of years," Esposito said casually. "Relax, Castle-nova," he grinned, knowing exactly what was giving the author his pause. "It only comes from years of boring work conferences."

"And the occasional business trip to Miami," Ryan added. "And Montreal, Seattle, San Francisco, San Diego, San Juan..." Ryan began ticking off fingers while Castle's jaw slackened with disbelief and envy.

"Oh, remember Vegas?" Esposito asked, smacking Ryan's shoulder with the back of his hand.

"She got so drunk," Ryan reminisced, offering his knuckles for a fist-bump that his partner gladly reciprocated.

"Drunk?" Castle asked, pulling out the bottle of sparkling apple cider from the box. "Beckett?"

"It doesn't take much," Esposito muttered with a tone like he was passing along a valuable secret recipe.

"Three glasses of Dom Pérignon got her dancing to dirty pop on a table at the Bellagio," Ryan snickered with wide schoolboy eyes.

"You guys are killing me," Castle mumbled, returning to his work while the boys dispersed. Castle knew they were probably making it all up, but now he had a mental image of the lady detective bending and twisting on a table in a Vegas casino. For some reason, she was in black stilettos and bright pink lingerie, with Ryan and Esposito waving money at her. Then the thought of them pushing dollar bills down her panties cooled him off pretty quickly. He decided to stop asking questions for the duration.

"She just called from her car. She's running late, but she'll be here soon," Ryan said, when he noticed that Castle was almost done setting up the meal. He had prepared a silver centrepiece that displayed a variety of exotic fruit arrangements and hors d'oeuvres he's specifically chosen (with his mother's help) to accompany the cider. He had originally planned a full meal, but the logistics of sneaking it into the department were too much on too short notice.

"All right, here she comes," Esposito said, looking out the window. "You'd better hope the captain doesn't catch you with those," he advised as Castle struck a match to light the candles. "If any of our files go up in flames, you're next."

"Duly noted," Castle said, shaking the match to put out the flame. He hurriedly pulled out the last item from the cardboard box, a huge banner, and hung it from her desk before tossing the empty cardboard box under Esposito's.

"Do you mind?" he asked, returning from his stakeout. "I gotta do work there."

"Just go get the lady, would you?" Castle asked sweetly. He stood waiting patiently with clasped hands while Esposito headed out to meet her outside.

"Good morning, detective," he said brightly as she power-walked toward the station.

"Morning," she said distractedly. "Sorry I'm late. My car wouldn't start and the traffic mid-morning was just awful. Is the captain in yet?"

"Yeah, but he's meeting with the commissioner," he said. "Something about a political rally gone awry?"

"Oh well that explains the traffic, then," she said as he opened the door for her. "Thank you. It was sheer madness."

"You want madness," Esposito said slyly, "you should check out what's waiting for you on your desk."

"Oh, god," she sighed. "What bizarre murder case are we dealing with today?"

"Go see for yourself," he said with a smirk and let her disappear around the corner on her own. She stepped into the office space and her quick gait slowed to a halt; there was her desk adorned with the most elaborate celebratory decorations she'd ever seen and Rick Castle standing next to it all with a grin on his face.

"What... is all this?" she asked slowly and approaching cautiously.

"Happy birthday," Castle said quietly. Beckett gradually removed her coat while marveling at what used to be her desk now drowning in Rick Castle's imagination. Her brow creased slightly and her bottom lip tucked under her teeth as her eyes darted over the huge "happy birthday" sign on her desk. He felt giddy; he was sure she was about to cry. She looked up at him with bright eyes.

"It's my birthday?"

Castle's smile sunk instantly and all the flourishing vibrancy from his face flushed away. "I — oh god, did I get the wrong day? Oh, my god, I'm such an idiot —"

"Castle —"

"I knew it, I knew those guys were yanking my chain!" he cried, clenching his fists in the air. "They just wanted me to look stupid —"

"Castle, hold —"

"Sorry, I'm just going to take all this stuff and —"

"CASTLE!" Beckett shouted, finally getting his attention amidst all his embarrassed babbling. "Just... hang on, all right?" she demanded, her eyes flitting to the corners and her brow creasing further with concentration

"What?" he asked, hesitating as he went grab the cardboard box from Esposito's desk.

"What day is it today?"

Castle blinked. "Uh, the 18th?"

"Huh." Beckett raised an eyebrow and nodded her head. "Then yeah, today's my birthday."

After a beat, Castle let out a pocket of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Wait a second," he said incredulously, a light scoff underscoring his words, "you didn't know today was your birthday? I knew, and you didn't?"

"Don't get so cocky," Beckett said with a slight roll to her eyes. "I hardly ever know what day it is."

"Not even on your own birthday?"

"What can I say?" she sighed. "I'm not birthday-crazy."

"Wow, you really are career-driven," Castle murmured.

"Thanks for noticing. So, you... did all this for my birthday?" she asked, waving an index finger at her desk.

"Yeah," Castle said, snagging the empty chair from Esposito's desk and pulling it up to her desk to sit down. "I thought you'd be surprised. I guess I didn't realize how much."

"Hmm," she said, hugging her coat close to her. "Castle," she said, with folded arms and towering over him in his chair, "where am I supposed to do my work?"

"Oh, would you just relax and sit with me?"

Beckett quickly turned a burgeoning smile into a scowl, pulling out her own chair to sit down. "Where'd you get the Victorian epergne?"

"Oh, from my personal collection," Castle said, helping himself to a dish of strawberries and spooning some onto his plate. "It comes in handy when I'm hosting house parties for best-sellers."

"Should have known," she said dully, picking a toothpick from the center and spearing a pineapple cube. "Is that wine?"

"Apple cider," he said as he poured some into each glass. "I know you don't like to drink on the job. Plus, I think Cappy'd have my ass for it."

"He's already going to have your ass for all this," she said, indicating the elaborate set up and, in particular, the candles. "Did you clear those with him?"

"Nope."

"You know that's a fire hazard?"

"Oh, you are so ruining the mood right now."

"I wasn't aware we were creating a mood."

"Oh, we were," Castle said as he rested an elbow on the desk and leaned over. "I was making this very romantic gesture and you were feeling swept off your feet."

"Do you always do this?" she asked, swiping a strawberry from his plate with her toothpick. "Turn your everyday situations into idealic prose, regardless of the truth?"

"Life is a story," he said, replenishing the strawberry stash on his plate. "The fun is all in the writing of it."

"Yeah, well, you don't get to write all of them," she said. They silently picked away at the appetizers until most of it was gone. Castle was making a big show of licking the fruit juices from his fingers when Beckett cleared her throat a little uncomfortably.

"Uh, listen," she said. Despite the fact that she had eaten quite tidily, she picked up her napkin to dab her face. She was just buying time to avoid saying what she knew had to be said.

"Yes, detective?" Castle asked, making a particularly annoying sucking noise on his thumb.

"Thanks. You know."

Castle smiled. It was just as he'd written.