A/n: Set some time before that fateful finale of Season 3. Right before Josh came into the picture, when all was swell in Castle-land. I got bored with the fact Hulu wouldn't let me watch episodes past the last six, so decided to do a bit o' fan fiction. I know, and have watched the Castle/Beckett vs. Ryan/Esposito bet episode, but this one is even funnier and I think is what they should have done. Enjoy!

PS: I don't own Castle, all rights reserved to the folks at ABC. If you recognize them, they belong to Andrew W. Marlowe. Otherwise, they're mine. Shhh. ;)

-K.H.

Date Night?

Chapter One: The Bet

The precinct was quieter than usual.

Most of its normal occupants had taken to the elevator to go home to their wives, their husbands, their families, and some: empty and lonely apartments. The few who remained huddled before a whiteboard, passing a pair of pictures back and forth across their little circle. The trio of detectives and a shadowing writer spoke in a flurry of agitated discretion and inquisition.

"I can't-I can't see how he could have-"

"Are you sure? You've looked at every possible situation. Everything?" The only woman present at the moment, interrupts him wielding an aggravated tone.

"Becks," The detective takes a deep breath, he's been here as long as she has. "I told you- we've turned over every stone. It just isn't adding up."

The pair of photographs took a second trip around the room, passed from hand to hand. The first was a driver's license photo of a young woman, about twenty-two years old. The second was Polaroid of another young woman about the same age, her twin sister. They had gone missing four months earlier, the girls' dead bodies found in a shipping container in the port. This case had taken up their entire lives for the last three weeks, without a single break in its monotonous sameness. Every new clue had led to the same situation and in time they would come to the same conclusion. This meant the same obstacles and holes in their well-versed theory would appear- sending them spiraling back to the beginning.

"This case just isn't making sense."

The female detective let out an aggravated cry and commenced another fit of perpetual pacing, her third tonight. As she dashes back and forth, the pair of detectives sulked too, taking a lean on a cluster of desks beside them. Of the group the only seated was a blue-suited man who looked out of place. He was dressed like a man anticipating a date at a fancy restaurant but the look on his face read differently; he was part of their team.

As out of place as it seemed, Richard Castle was here because he wanted to be. He longed to be here, with all the mystery and allure of the murder investigations, the adventurous rampages that followed and content he acquired for his novels. By content, he usually and secretly meant the fact that he, Richard Castle could follow around the enthralling Kate Beckett all he wanted, authorized by the mayor of course.

The truth was: he had been anticipating a date. She'd had partly agreed to one and all he had to do was win the bet; but there had been a catch. There was always a catch with Beckett, always teasing him to the world's end.

-Earlier that day-

"This case is getting on my last nerve. Why can't it just be easier?"

Kate Beckett throws a case file down on the desk; Castle hands her a cup of coffee and tries to remedy the situation. His face is as sleepy and restless as her's, but not because of the case. Her mood is what's making him so edgy this morning; whenever she's worried- he's worried.

"It's okay, Beckett. We'll figure it out, we usually do."

"Castle- it's not that easy. I can't just wave a magic wand, and the killer's name will magically appear."

"That's true. As awesome as you are, you can't do that."

"Not now, Castle." She adds, attempting to send him away; but it's no use.

Kate paced back and forth sending out the sort of waves of anger that any man would take as a cue to run and hide. But not Richard Castle- when he detects waves on his Beckett's Pissed Radar, he comes running toward it. As stupid as it seems, he likes it when she's mad. That's when she shows her strength, and her passion for what she does. It's the perfect time to pounce and get what he wants, may that be a sexy glance, and an endearing moment or just some time alone with her.

His magically happy making powers were in full swing and directed at her today, but even the highest setting of 'Castle magic' couldn't cheer her up. Even her morning coffee was received with a bland and lethargic, "'Morning Castle." The case had dragged on for what felt like centuries, and it had tried her patience to its end.

Unless…

"Hey- what if, I figured out this whole thing."

"All right what is it I'm dying to go home? -"

"-No. What I mean is, let's have a bet to see who can figure it out first. You and me."

"What? Come on Castle, that's a stupid idea-"

"-I bet you, I could figure this out before you can."

He'd put the challenge out there; all she had to do was accept it. It was a tempting offer, there was a chance it could bring some colorful competition to this case's ever-gray complexion.

She stares at him for a moment and shakes her head in disbelief, letting out a soft laugh. As often as he gets these pesky ideas into his head, this one shows potential; unlike the idea that ninja space aliens who wanted them for organ harvesting killed the victims. Or the idea that zombie George Washington was their prime suspect. As she leans forward, Kate Beckett gives him a sultry smile. Any chance of competition with Castle could be fun. Seeing him lose terribly could be even more promisingly amusing.

"All right Writer-Boy, I'll take that stupid bet."

"Great! What do I get if I win?"

"What do you mean if you win? You think you'll win this don't you?"

"I believe I'm perfectly capable of it, yes." Castle answers confidently, giving her a thousand watt smile and little taste of his Castle-worthy ego. She narrows her eyes investigating the specimen before her. The contender? Richard Castle: expensive suit wearing author, shadowing wanna-be cop, ruggedly handsome rebel, current and eternal reason for Kate Beckett's annoyance. And at some points in the day her secret desire.

"All right then, I don't know. What do you want?"

Castle's face is as easily readable, and just as much a naughty pleasure as the books he's written, she reads it loud and clear: You know what I want. She blushes and leans close to him.

"Mmmmm. What do I want? What-do-I-want? Mmmm let's see-"

He's milking it; he's trying to suck every second out of this little confrontation so he can savor it. But on the opposite side of the conversation Kate Becket's face is not at all amused. She pulls her arms across her chest in trying patience.

"-Just get over with it Castle."

Castle peeks from behind his cocked eye brow mask and smiles defiantly. It's the kind of look that practically kills her, but in the best kind of way. With that well loved, goose-bump giving glance in place, he drops the bombshell.

"All right. How bout' a date?" Proud of himself, the author counters his favorite detective's now dagger-filled glare. Beckett scoffs at his request, shaking her head and taking a sip of coffee to hide her laughter- and secret enjoyment. A date? That's not something for his enjoyment only; she'd love that too. But for the purposes of her own persona, she declines him, shooting down his idea with a single blow.

"Yeah right, like that's gonna happen."

"Beck-ett," Castle whined, little boy pout stubbornly asserted.

"No freakin' way."

Amid a fit of laughter and teasing amusement, Beckett leans back onto her desk and chuckles at the idea. But then stops short, mouth agape; he wasn't kidding.

"No-no. You agreed to the terms of The Bet, now you have to conform to them."

"But I didn't- I never agree to that. Come on, think of something else."

"Nope. I've made my decision."

"No. Come on Castle I didn't-"

"-And I mean a real date, no burgers at Remy's… no order in Thai food. I mean a real date- I come to your door with roses and everything-"

"-No way!"

An old Western-style duel breaks out in the precinct, with full on encircling techniques. Onlookers are stupefied by the battle unfolding before them. Officers, detectives and even the occasional suspect being escorted across the floor stops to watch. Instead of a pair of pistols they wielded something equally dangerous. Their weapon of choice for this duel? Eternal glares: Beckett's unending and with no mercy complete with a tapping foot. Castle's silly and eyebrow curled, with the occasional flinch at her powerful gaze's rays of evil.

Surprisingly, and to avoid further spectators to join their little audience- she caves first.

"Fine- but to an extent, when I get annoyed with it, it all stops. Got it?" To set a bit of fear in his bones, Kate pushes close to him, sending a death stare up his spine. Castle just smiles wryly oblivious to her glares; he's seen them so often they don't even phase his psyche anymore.

"Got it."

"What about my end of the 'The Bet'? What do I get- huh?" Kate asks making air quotes at his entirely silly idea. It isn't a silly idea in a literal sense, but in its own way was silly to her. A date? Not just any date, but a date with Rick Castle? It was like a plot straight from her Top Secret fan girl dreams…

"Anything your heart desires my dear detective, anything."

"Oh really?" Kate folds her arms across her chest once more standing off in disbelief. He mockingly assumes the same position; even shadowing her angry head twitch on the dime.

"Really. I am fully prepared to open up my credit cards to this one."

"Trust me. Castle get proof that Evan Dawson killed those girls, and that the uncle paid him to do it. Get that for me Castle, and we've got a date." Kate scoffs at him, picking up her coat and attempting to leave.

"Then it's settled. You and I will go on a date to a place of my choice. Tonight your all mine."

Kate lets the phrase: 'Your all mine' sink its way it then brushes it off. "Sure, whatever Castle. Just get me that evidence. Just remember, I'm the one who does this for a living and you just moonlight for your own enjoyment. I will win this stupid bet."

"Consider this case, closed. Oh and for our date," He grabs her attention at the last second with another smile, which just like earlier stops, her short. "-remember to wear something sexier than usual. Preferably including a short dress."

She shoots him a glare from the other side of the desk. Castle deflects it just by being his usual self, with that smile that could bring her to her knees.

"Get your pocket book ready, Castle. You're going be sorry you ever messed with me."

"Whatever you say, Becks whatever you say."

It had been a form of bait to get him to surface some Castle-worthy fact or spotted clue that could save the day. If he won he got the coveted grand price: a date with Kate Beckett. But sadly for him… so far to today his bank of knowledge had been experiencing a drought. With the river of wisdom far below sea level, he had attempted to dive into the cement below and get what he needed from an alternative perspective. This hadn't helped and had plunged his dear detective into a further state of pissed-off-at-the-world-and-I-will-shoot-you-Castle-if-you-don't-go-away-ness. A little angrier than usual, Beckett was on her last resort.

She had agreed to the stupid bet, even calling it a 'stupid bet' to make him think that she didn't care about it. But she about cared all right; she was getting that prize. Besides even if she didn't win, she did win. A date with Richard Castle? Kate wouldn't give that up for the world.

A/n: Did you like it?

1. Should I continue?

2. Any ideas for what Beckett wants if she wins? Any other ideas?

Feedback is entirely appreciated. The little blue button beckons for love… be a friend and click it. It'll smile at you. (Well it would if it had a face)

-K.H.

PS: Caskett FTW! You know it… ;)