Summary: Because technically they've been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates.

Author's Note: Trying something a little different here because apparently I've been bitten by the "what-if" bug that's been going around. This will be a collection of missing scenes from all of the non-dates between our favorite couple. Prompts are more than welcome!

Thanks to Andy for the beta, Kelli for the suggestions, and Jade for the lovely cover art!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show.

It's Not A Date

2x14 – The Third Man

It's not a date. At least that's what she keeps telling herself. It's just dinner between two colleagues who had to work late and are now starving.

Never mind the fact that just hours ago they were dressed to the nines at a fancy restaurant, both on dates with other people. People they ditched in lieu of solving a murder together, and Kate refuses to acknowledge that her willingness to leave Mr. Sexy-Puppy-Saving firefighter had to do with anything other than the inherent urgency of her job.

There was a lead to follow. She followed it.

With her shadow turned partner who snuck off to the 'bathroom' to listen in on her phone calls and was right there next to her as they put the pieces together in a bout of sexy banter that Kate refuses to term anything besides 'working together.'

Said work left them starving and with the late hour it's really not practical to cook something at home, leaving a meal out as the best option. Which is the only reason Kate is currently linking her arm through Castle's and allowing him to lead her to the elevator.

She's not looking forward to this. Not even in the slightest. And she's most certainly not twirling her hair around her fingers and dipping her head in embarrassment. It's merely a subconscious reaction to the situation. That's all.

"So, Detective Beckett," he says in a low voice as the elevator doors slide closed in front of them. "Are you a chocolate or a vanilla shake kind of girl?"

She raises an eyebrow, refusing to divulge. He claims he likes a mystery; in that case, she's never again going to give him a straight-up answer to anything. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well since we're headed to a restaurant for burgers and shakes, it stands to reason that I will know in just a few minutes," he points out, all smug and obnoxious and why is he so irritatingly attractive all the time?

"Then you can just wait a few minutes to find out," Kate shoots back, not missing a beat.

"Or I could figure it out now with the clues in front of me."

"Clues?"

He nods eagerly. "You were wearing a red dress tonight, which, by the way, was very sexy."

"Castle," she snaps, unlinking their arms and stepping to the side, effectively putting an end to that line of conversation.

"Right. Red dress, which suggests that you're daring, you like to stand out."

Kate rolls her eyes. There's no way he can possibly be basing this on anything factual.

"You were on a date to a fancy restaurant, and you dressed up for it, suggesting that you secretly have a romantic side."

Another eye roll, and as the elevator doors re-open Kate steps out, leaving him behind with his musings.

Unsurprisingly he catches up to her within seconds, still engrossed in his mission. "You also use cherry-scented shampoo or body wash or something which, by the way, the idea of you in the shower all soapy and..."

Kate whirls around. "Castle. Say another word of that sentence and you will be going to Remy's alone."

"Right," he replies, mentally cataloguing the sexy image of a riled-up Kate Beckett who clearly is enjoying his company more than she wants to let on despite her feigned anger. The flush of her cheeks and the way she keeps touching her hair is a dead giveaway.

"As I was saying, cherry scented body wash, which also suggests a penchant for romance."

They pause on the street corner as traffic flows through the intersection and though most of what he's saying sounds absurd, part of her is secretly interested to hear his final decision.

"Vanilla is plain, boring. Chocolate is rich and decadent. But both are rather...unsophisticated."

"And?" Kate queries as he falls silent, steps into the crosswalk as the cars come to a halt.

"And nothing," he replies, this infuriating man who always manages to snag her attention and reel her in and then leave her hanging, wanting more despite the voice in her head attempting to remind her that she doesn't care what he thinks.

She disguises her disappointment with another annoyed eye roll.

"Wow, Castle. That was some deep profiling there."

He shrugs, far too pleased with himself. "I don't get paid the big bucks to write for nothing."

Kate pulls open the door of the restaurant, is tempted not to hold it for him just to get back at him for being so irritating. But he's right on her heels, following her across the diner as she selects a booth.

Castle carefully sets her dress on the cushioned bench next to him, discards his suit jacket before taking his seat across from her, and Kate refuses to consider the musculature of his upper arms, the broad chest beneath his shirt, and the way he would look naked and panting in her bed.

Because that's never going to happen. She doesn't even like him. Doesn't want to be here with him right now. She'd much rather be at home curled up with a glass of wine and a good book rather than preparing to eat burgers and shakes with her favorite author. This is simply the most reasonable way to assuage her hunger.

For food. Not for him.

He seems to catch onto her train of thought, the vehement denials whirling through her mind, smiles in that easy-going way of his.

"Enjoying yourself, Detective?"

Her head snaps up. "What?"

"I asked if you're enjoying yourself," he repeats, eyes twinkling knowingly.

"Enjoying my evening spent in the company of my arrogant shadow who seems to enjoy nothing more than to annoy me to no end?" she asks sardonically. "Why of course."

"You're lying," he accuses, and for goodness sake, why did she not back out while she had a chance? Furthermore, why is she still sitting here? It would be simple to reach under the table and grab her dress, leave the restaurant, and hail a cab home.

"Keep telling yourself that," Kate shoots back, beyond irritated at the ways he manages to sneak through her defenses and uncover everything about her.

And when a waitress comes to take their order and he asks for two strawberry shakes, it's all she can do not to stand up and walk out right then.

Because he's right about her. Again.

"How's your shake?" he asks smugly after a few moments in which they eat quietly, and she should have known better than to assume that his silence was anything but temporary.

"Tastes like a milkshake," she replies, popping a handful of fries into her mouth.

"I take it you approve of my 'deep profiling skills?'" he asks smugly, fingers curling into quotation marks as he speaks.

Kate bites off a large chunk of her burger to avoid having to answer.

"Now that I think about it, strawberry suits you."

"Is that so?"

"Sure," he replies eagerly, enjoying this far too much. When she doesn't respond, he presses on. "It's unique and different and most people judge it hastily and unfairly instead of actually giving themselves a chance to realize that they like it."

Kate chokes on another bite of fries, washes it down with a gulp of the shake that he just compared her to and that thought alone is nearly enough to make her choke again.

Because did he really just say that he likes her?

It's obvious that he's attracted to her. He's been anything but subtle about that since the day they met. But likes her? That implies...more. More than just the desire to get her into bed (though not for a lack of trying).

"Here." Castle pushes her glass of water across the table and she reluctantly obliges, takes a long swig. The cool liquid calms her throat and she swallows slowly, allowing her brain a chance to regroup.

"Thanks," she offers with a nod, still not meeting his eyes.

"Anytime, Detective," he replies easily, reaching across and stealing a few of her fries.

"Castle!" Kate smacks the back of his hand but he doesn't even pause, merely lifts the fries to his mouth and bites down on all of them at once, and he is enjoying this far too much for her liking. Arrogant jackass.

"What?" he asks, voice dripping with innocence though his eyes portray a very different story.

"Eat your own fries."

He shrugs, returns to his burger, though he thankfully spends the rest of the night eating from his own plate.

Because sharing food is something that one does on a date. Something one does with someone close to them. This scenario is neither, despite the fact that Castle clearly sees it that way.

He pays for the bill. He insists upon carrying her dress and walking her all the way back to her apartment. He guides her through the diner door and around more than one street corner with his hand on her lower back, strong and warm and no, she does not wish she could feel it against her bare skin. Absolutely not.

When they arrive at the front door of her building he stalls, clearly not ready for the evening to be over. Which is exactly why she is putting an end to this outing right now.

"Thanks for dinner, Castle," she offers.

He smiles, raises an eyebrow as he speaks. "Thanks for indulging me. Maybe next time I'll convince you to stick around for dessert."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Is that how you pick up all the ladies? Cheesy lines like that?"

"Did it work?"

The eye roll is bigger this time to cover up the fact that his offer of dessert is secretly all sorts of tempting. "Wow, Castle."

"Call me cheesy, Detective, but I did convince you to go out with me."

"This wasn't a date, Castle."

"Really?" he mock pouts. "Because you sure seemed to be enjoying yourself."

She refuses to admit that he's almost, maybe, kind of right. His ego does not need any more stroking. Neither do other parts of him.

"Shut up, Castle."

"I'm just saying," he presses. Naturally. "We had dinner, I carried your dress..."

"Only because you insisted that I'm apparently not capable of doing so myself," she interrupts.

"Nevertheless, tonight possesses all the signs of a date, Detective." Dammit, how does he manage to make smug look so sexy?

"No, no it doesn't," she shoots back.

Castle raises and eyebrow, a challenge. "And why is that?"

"Because you're not kissing me goodnight." Kate snags the garment bag from his hands, turns away from him and crosses to the front door of her building.

She grasps the door handle, tosses one last witty remark over her shoulder, and he's pretty sure he will never get enough of her snarky, badass attitude. "And because this is never happening again."

Thoughts?