A/N: Thank you HeatXWave10, for making me flesh out my paragraphs, for the motivation, the grammar checks, for not letting the characters turn OOC, and most importantly for keeping me on track.

Spoilers: I can't think of any outright spoilers, but little things will probably be mentioned in passing. This story is set sometime during the spring of Season 3, so anything until then is fair game.

Disclaimer: Castle and its character's aren't mine. I wouldn't have time to own it, seeing as how school is my life. Besides, I think it's in pretty good hands as it is.

Rebellious Bird

"L'amour est un oiseau rebelle

que nul ne peut apprivoiser…"

"Love is a rebellious bird

that nobody can tame..."

~ "Habanera" from Bizet's Carmen

1.

People have this impression of her that she does all her homework like two weeks before it's due, and that she starts studying for tests eons before they're assigned. But Alexis is just another seventeen year old girl whose mind sometimes falls a week behind, and so she didn't realize that her history paper was due tomorrow and not next week.

It doesn't help that her father has been out and about town for the past few days. He's been exhausted lately. A particularly brutal case has had him coming home at strange hours of the night and well, quite frankly, Alexis didn't have the heart to wake him before leaving for school.

She really didn't know when to expect him home tonight. He had called earlier to say that they had finally wrapped up the case and that he, Detective Beckett, and some of the other detectives were going to have a celebratory drink.

Alexis shakes her head in order to clear her thoughts. Thoughts unrelated to her paper were not allowed. She glances over to the clock on the right bottom corner of her computer screen. 1:34. Her word count was 1708. Not bad. Only 292 words to go. Her focus shifts back to her essay and her word count continued to climb. A while later, as she's typing up the conclusion, she hears the door open. She figures that it's her father finally home from a night of celebrating. Alexis quickly decides that as soon as she finished, she'll go and make sure that he wasn't too drunk from celebrating with all of his cop friends.

It was hard explaining his cop friends to her friends. And it was really hard explaining just who Detective Beckett was. She used to say, "My dad's shadowing her for research for his next novel." At around the two year mark, she gave up trying to explain, and she began referring to Beckett as "a family friend."

Her father never shuts up about how tank, funny, or just plain awesome this woman was. Most of his stories were hilarious; she loved listening to them. But when it came to the more serious things, like when he got himself kidnapped by a serial killer, or when the entire city was at risk of a terrorist attack, Alexis began to wonder just how "extraordinary" Kate Beckett must be for him to keep going back.

Alexis, now finally done her essay, leans back in her chair and stretches her arms above her head.

Victory!

With that, she saves her work and shuts down her laptop. Since she hadn't heard her father come up to bed, she decides to check on him downstairs before going to bed. As she exits her room and descends the steps, noises from the kitchen prompt her to turn in that direction.

"Hey Dad!" she calls quietly. She tries to be mindful of her grandmother who had already turned in. "You alrigh-"

She immediately freezes as she sees what was happening in the kitchen.

Her father. A woman. Kitchen counter.

She barely has time to process the scene in front of her before the absolute horror sinks in and she is bolting back to the sanctuary of her room.

-o-o-

"You're so drunk," Beckett laughs as they stumble into his apartment.

"Am not! I'm totally in control."

She smirks at his insistence and heads toward the kitchen. "I'll get you a glass of water. It might sober you up a bit."

Next thing she knows, he's pinning her against the cold granite counter. She has no idea how to react.

"Castle," she manages, "Wha-"

He brings a finger to her lips. "I'm in control."

She absentmindedly darts her tongue out and licks her lips. She looks up at him and is surprised by the primal desire being reflected at her. She tries ignoring the fluttering in her stomach and briefly wonders if her eyes are giving her away. Her hands slide up to his chest so she'll be ready to push him.

She couldn't lose it. Not again.

"Castle-" The protest dies as he leans forward and closes the gap remaining between them. Her eyes close on their own accord and he kisses her gently. He pulls away, and when she doesn't react, he kisses her again.

She knows they should stop. She knows that this is a bad idea. She knows that she should push him away. But she doesn't really want to. When his tongue grazes her lip, her mind loses the little bit of control it still had over her body.

Their gentle kisses soon become frantic and she's trying desperately to get closer to him. Her fists bunch up the front of his shirt, pulling him closer just as he lifts her onto the counter. She wraps her legs around him, and she's suddenly wishing that she had worn a skirt instead of pants. She moans as his hand brushes across her breast. But when a moan escapes his lips, she immediately freezes.

She pulls away, horrified at what had just transpired. She slides off the counter and heads toward the cupboard across from her. She can feel his eyes boring into her, and she tries to shake the feeling it's causing within her. She takes a breath and distracts herself by grabbing a glass. With her back still toward him, she pours some water into it.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she finally breaks the silence. "I just… I can't. We agreed."

She hands him the glass. "Here's your water." Quickly and quietly, she makes her departure.

-o-o-

There are some things that can not be unseen. Her father macking with a random woman in the kitchen was one of those things. As much as Alexis liked to think that her dad was sexless-much like Sheldon off of The Big Bang Theory- and that she was the result of an immaculate conception, she knew that it wasn't the case. He had this philandering playboy persona which she found kind of disgusting, but she always knew that he didn't bring girls home-at least not when she was around. Romantically speaking, the last woman that she knew of was Gina. Other than her, the only woman to stay the night was Detective Beckett, and that was because her apartment was blown up by some psycho.

To top it all off, it's a Thursday. Why would he ever bring somebody home on a Thursday? Especially when he knew that his daughter would be around. She must be really something if he's breaking his rules for her.

From the journal of Richard Castle…

Woke up today with the worst headache imaginable. From my college days I should have remembered that drinking on a Thursday is a bad (very bad) idea. But it's not like I even drank that much either. It was enough for Beckett, the ever responsible designated driver, to insist upon driving me home. It was also just enough to lower my inhibitions and do something completely stupid and idiotic, but it wasn't enough to forget. Had Alexis and Mother not been asleep by then, an extra layer of embarrassment would have been added to the situation. There's no need for them to ever know.

I really don't know what was going through my alcohol induced mind. The last time we kissed, it ended up being really awkward for a good week. I doubt anyone else noticed. In groups, it was as if nothing had changed; we'd still build theory, I'd still pull her pigtails, bring her coffee, and the swordplay was always there. But whenever we were alone, whether it be at her desk, in her car, or even in the elevator, the tension was suffocating. I suppose neither one of us wanted to be the one to bring it up. Or maybe it wasn't brought up because of our previous agreement.

Two days post-kiss, I tried bringing it up and failed miserably. The speech I had been practicing in my mind for the past twenty minutes abandoned me the second she shot that really scary glare in my direction. The one that said "you dare bring it up, and I'll make sure that Alexis remains an only child for the rest of her life."

It's been about a month since her breakup with Motorcycle Boy. Even longer since we've been dancing around each other.

Am I crazy for wanting more? For expecting something to change? According to Einstein, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Kate and I keep crossing that line we drew so long ago, and history tells me that it will never be brought up again. But I can't help but hope that maybe this time it will amount to something.

Maybe I am insane.

I'll probably show up and the precinct mid-afternoon. All they'll be doing today is paperwork anyways. Today, my flu ridden mother is in more need of me.

- RC

A/N: Please let me know what you think!