Disclaimer: Castle and SGA aren't mine. If they were, there'd have been lots more sex and far less crime/space stuff... just sayin'. (see profile for a REAL disclaimer)

A/N: Written for racethewind10 over on LJ, who requested the prompt, "Castle/John Sheppard, women who won't let you protect them."

Rick Castle loved people watching. He'd sit at his favorite coffee shop for hours on end, pretending to work on a book that was due weeks ago, while making up life stories in his head for the people he saw. But, when he came right down to it, it had been far too long since he'd found someone that truly intrigued him, especially since writing Derek Storm had become more of a job than a love affair.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He'd been watching the same man for the last fifteen minutes and there was something about him that he just couldn't put his finger on. Was he military? A cop? Did his hair always look like that, or did he style it that way on purpose?

The man took a sip of his coffee and looked up at him with a hint of annoyance, "I don't know, can you?"

Rick winced inwardly, apparently his curiosity had gotten the better of him once again. Alexis had told him to stop talking to strangers. He should've listened.

"Sorry, I just- there's something about you. I've been trying to figure it out since you walked in."

"Look, I think you might have the wrong idea, buddy," the man shifted uncomfortably, "I don't bat for your team."

His brow furrowed. Bat for his team? Oh, God, this guy thought he was gay? Great.

"What? No! I'm not trying to hit on you, I swear. I'm a writer," he explained, "Usually I can take one look at someone and know their life story in the blink of an eye."

"So, why are you bothering me if you already have me all figured out?"

Sighing, Rick sat down in the chair across the table from him, despite the glare that he received for it, and tried to gather his thoughts, "But, I don't have you figured out, that's my point. You come across as a guy who could kill me eighteen different ways with a paper clip, and that's cool I respect that, but at the same time there's something else..."

There was a short silence between them, one where the man studied him carefully, his eyes flicking out to the sidewalk as if he were expecting company, "Maybe I just hate waiting, did you ever think of that?"

Rick frowned, he clearly wasn't getting anywhere this way. That's when it clicked, how he'd get through to him. Time to change tactics.

"Who is she?"

"What?"

"The woman that you hate waiting for," Rick chuckled, turning on the charm. The charm always worked- on men, women and children, and everything in between. He really hoped it wouldn't fail him now, "Which I totally understand by the way, living with your Mother and daughter forces you to develop the patience of a saint, especially when they're going out."

The man cracked a smile, just a hint of one, and Rick could feel the barriers start tumbling down. He loved this, discovering someone knew, learning every little thing about them. It was exhilarating, a welcome change from the rut he'd found himself in lately.

"You live with your Mother?" he smirked, "Aren't you a little old for that?"

Rick wanted to laugh, he really did, but the way this guy was looking at him made him feel like he had to defend his manhood or something, "Hey, she lives with me, not the other way around."

"Sure," he said with a raised eye brow, but quickly trailed off when he spotted something out the window.

Rick followed the man's gaze and saw a gorgeous woman, she had medium length brown hair and wore a flowing yellow sun dress, "Ah, that would be her?"

He looked back at the man sitting across from him and something about him had changed. His posture was more relaxed and there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, it is."

"What's her name?"

The man glanced at him for a moment, looking as if he were thinking about whether to divulge such information, and Rick mentally crossed his fingers, "Elizabeth. We work together."

Looking from the woman, who was making her way across the street and toward the café with a bright smile, then back to the man, Rick could tell that they were far more than co-workers. It wasn't blatant, but for someone like him, someone who psychologically dissected people for a living, the instant connection between them had been obvious. Now, they were getting to the good stuff.

"Does she know that you love her?"

The man's reaction was immediate, "Excuse me?"

Yup, definitely hit a nerve there.

"If she doesn't, you should tell her," Rick advised, seeing her pull open the door out of the corner of his eye, "Your body language changed the second you saw her. That's the part that I couldn't figure out."

"John?"

Rick and the man, John, looked up as Elizabeth slowed to a stop next to their table, her hand coming to rest on her friend's shoulder. They'd make quite a couple, there was clearly something there between them, whether either of them had admitted it or not.

"Who's your friend?" she asked.

He didn't wait for an introduction, not that there would be one anyway, they'd never exchanged names, "Rick Castle, it's nice to finally meet you."

She smiled, glancing playfully down at John before looking back, "Talking about me, were you?"

"Yeah, I was telling Mr. Castle here about that cute little thing that you do when you fall asleep on your desk reading paperwork. You know, with the drool and the snoring?"

Rick chuckled, watching them volley back and forth. It was breathtaking in an odd sort of way, one that he'd definitely be using as a basis for the characters his new book now that he'd finally found some sort of inspiration.

"I do not drool, John Sheppard," she glared, and from where he was sitting he could see that she was trying terribly to stop herself from laughing, "and I better not hear that you are spreading rumors saying otherwise."

"Well, I don't want to keep you any longer," Rick stood, feeling like he was intruding, and offered his hand across the table, "It was nice to meet you, John."

The man stared at his hand for a moment, and Rick thought briefly that he might be contemplating breaking a few of his fingers for pushing the conversation too much, but in the end he had nothing to worry about.

"You too," he grinned, glancing up at Elizabeth, "Thanks for the advice."

"No problem. Have a good day, you two."

They nodded politely and he walked back over to his table. In his haste to question John, he'd stupidly left his laptop unattended and checked to make sure that nothing was missing before sitting back down and staring at the same blank document that he'd had open for the last three months. Across the room, he heard Elizabeth laugh, sitting in the same seat that he'd just vacated, listening intently to a story that John was telling her. They looked so happy, and not at all like co-workers, more like two people who had been friends for years and knew each other better than they knew themselves. Why couldn't he have that?

Sighing to himself, Rick looked at his watch and shut his computer. It was time for him to go to work. Storm Fall had hit the shelves less than twelve hours ago and his soul sucking ex-wife wanted him to attend a release party that night. He wasn't looking forward to donning his playboy persona, as much fun as it was, he'd much rather stay home with Alexis and eat Chinese takeout while watching bad horror movies from the sixties. At least his Mother was excited about the party, though, somebody ought to be.

Making his way out onto the street, he ran his hand through his hair and started heading back toward the loft on foot. Before he got far though, something made him pause and turn, taking one last look at the couple through the window. What he saw made him smile, John tentatively reached over and took Elizabeth's hand in his own and she shyly linked their fingers together. Maybe he'd find what they had some day- trust, love, respect- and hopefully, he wished, it would take him years to figure her out, to learn how she took her coffee and what each little smile or frown meant.

What he didn't know though, was that day, the one that he longed so deeply for, was today, and that one little sentence would change his life forever...

"Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, we need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."

End.