At his agreement, she pushed herself up off the couch and walked into the small kitchen area. Snagging two glasses, the wine, and the opener she had tossed in a drawer after last using it, Kate strolled back to the couch. "Like the 1930s or 40s?" she asked with a grin, fairly sure that Castle's love of detective fiction and film noir, not to mention private investigators, would likely lead him there.
Placing the glasses on the table, Kate turned her attention to working on popping the cork of the bottle, carefully pressing down until the corkscrew had a good hold and then tugging upward until it slid out with a pop. "That's sweet," Kate told him, dropping the cork and the opener onto the table before she picked up a glass, "But I'm a terrible actor, babe."