Credit for this prompt goes to roleplayinspiration, (a delightful tumblr blog). And the other text prompts, that are apart of a series called: The Text Series. (How original, I know).

You can see the prompts on my tumblr: Caffeine-Kenzie. I have no idea how to get the URL link, but the post is under Text Prompts.

This is marked as complete. I just thought it would be a cute, little oneshot to share with you. But knowing me I'll probably expand.

Reviews/Constructive criticism/Comments are appreciated :)


She doesn't know what time it is, only knows that her phone should not be ringing at this hour.

With blurry eyes Kate finds the source of the ringing; swipes it from her bedside table and barely has time to check the caller ID before she answers it with a rough "Beckett."

She already knows who it is. It's most likely the precinct wanting to disturb her already shaky sleeping pattern further, by announcing a body drop. It's either that or some bar owner who's throwing her father out and needs her to come and pick him up.

Kate's already flipping her covers off, throwing her legs over the side of her bed and feeling blindly for the lamp switch. She waits for the address to be spewed out to her, or the familiar "Are you a relative of Jim Beckett?"

Instead, she's surprised when a male voice greets her.

"You know what? I'm pissed."

Pissed? Is this a prank call? She thinks, pulling the phone from her ear and staring at it.

It is an unknown number, but she had just assumed that it was a new bar her dad had manage to find. She had nearly every bar in Manhattan in her call log.

"I'm sorry, I–" she tries to interrupt the other end, but the male caller begins to talk again.

"You want to know why I'm pissed?" The male person starts and — Jesus Christ — she wants to know what the unsuspecting person, whoever this guy thought she was, did to deserve this wake-up call.

The caller doesn't pause to wait for an answer. "I'm pissed because it's 2am and I can't sleep, because you won't get the hell out of my mind," he grits out.

Oh, well at least she knows the time now.

His voice brings something out of her, and she can almost feel like she's heard that voice before.

"Will?" She guesses, thinking back to her ex-boyfriend of only 3 months who had soundly left her for a federal job in Boston.

"Will? Is that the guy you're leaving me for?"

Okay, not Will. But seriously, is this guy drunk?

"I'm sorry?" Kate says, hoping that her unfamiliar voice will hint at his mistake.

She walks out of her room in a confused manor, deciding that she needs coffee; even at 2 in the morning.

"Save your apologies," he snarls, but it sounds different, unnatural. Like the malice in his voice is usually reserved for a warm, boisterous laugh. "You know that your stuff is everywhere in the loft? Your clothes are in my closet, your travel mug is on the bench and your scent is on my pillow."

Okay, this is definitely not a prank call.

"And tonight was the first night that I realized I love you. Your scent on my pillow is what I want to wake up in the morning to. I want to stand next to you late at night, my hips brushing your as we do our normal night routine. I want to bring you coffee in the morning, just so I can see a smile on your face. I want to do all these things because I love you. I love you and I don't want to lose you. I would take a bullet for you."

Kate's breath catches, the words of this unknown caller– who she now knows is a sweet, sweet man– cutting into her. She can feel her already broken heart breaking further. And she wishes she had someone like this man to repair it.

"Please say something," he whispers, the desperation splashing across his voice. "Kyra–"

Oh God. He just confessed his love to the wrong person, and I let him. Kate thought in a brief panic.

"I'm sorry pal. You just confessed your undying love to the wrong person." She attempts to go for a light, humorous let down, but fails miserably. She can't help but let the heavy confession twist her stomach in knots.

She shouldn't feel guilty. She didn't even sign up for this.

Kate can't hear anything but his heavy breathing and she debates hanging up, but no. That wouldn't be fair to him, not in the least.

"So, I uh- guess I have to do that speech again, huh?" He starts out light, but Kate can't help but catch the crack in his voice, near the end.

"I'm so sorry, I really should've mentioned it at the start," Kate apologizes, biting her lip in guilty fashion.

"No, it's not your fault. I should um– check that I dialled the right number, before I–" he trails off. Kate listens as a sob rings out through the speaker.

"No, don't be sad!" She blurts out, a hand flying to her mouth.

She's not even whole. She's empty and sad and– God she's such a hypocrite. But even if he is a stranger, she can offer him comfort that she's never received– that she's never allowed herself to receive.

"I'm sorry, it's late, or early," he replies with a sniffle, and she feels the corners of her mouth lift at his kindness. "I should let you go back to sleep."

Kate bits her lip again, looking at her coffee machine. "You sound like you're going through a tough time, and there's no way I'm getting back to sleep now," she pauses when she hears him murmur out a "sorry," a small smile escaping her. "Tell me about this girl that you're so in love with."

"Um, well." She can her the sheepishness in his voice and cringes, wondering if that was the right thing to say. "We're strangers. How do I know you're not some crazy, serial killer?"

Kate can't help the laugh that escapes. At least he's cautious enough to be careful. "My name's Kate. And I actually help catch the killers."

There's an audible gasp on the other side, and she wonders if the next thing she'll be hearing is a dialling tone.

"You're a cop?" He sounds astonished, in a good way.

"Homicide Detective, 2nd grade," she replies, nervous at giving away information.

"That is so hot!"

"I could be a fifty year-old lady. Would it still be hot?"

"No way, you are not fifty," he exclaims.

Kate raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Nah, you've got that bedroom voice. You're pretty."

Kate shakes her head in amusement, feeling a swell of pride that her no longer sounds upset. "So now that I'm not a stranger, what about you? How do I know you're not a serial killer."

"Oh yeah, right," he stammers. "I murder people, in books. I'm a writer, just released the first book of my new series."

"A writer huh? Impressive. Anything I've read?" Kate questions.

"Not sure. I've got a few books out, crime, mysteries. My publisher said that this new series could be my break," he explains.

"Oh, I never did get a name," Kate implies.

"Rick. I uh, go by Richard Castle when I write."

Kate nearly drops the phone in surprise.

She's been talking to her favourite author the whole time, and suddenly she doesn't mind being woken up at 2 in the morning.

"Kate, are you there?"

Kate swallows, shaking off the shock that she's actually talking to Richard-freaking-Castle.

"So, Kyra," she mentions, offering a distraction. "You love her, huh?"

Rick laughs; a light, floating sound that ends warmth through her stomach. "What gave it away? My lengthy, embarrassing proclamation?"

"I thought it was a very sweet proclamation," Kate admitted. She repositioned the phone in between her shoulder and ear, attempting to pour herself coffee.

"Sweet, maybe. Embarrassing, yes."

Kate finishes off her coffee, taking the mug to her couch. "So what made you confess your undying love for Kyra?"

"Er- well–"

"You really don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine. You kind of deserve an explanation," he laughed nervously. "Her parents don't exactly approve of our relationship. Even though I've released a few books, they don't think writing is a steady job. They like to say that I lack character, but I know it's about my financial status."

"That's too bad Castle."

"Castle?"

"Cop thing."

"Still hot."

"Thank you?"

"What about you, Kate? What– oh, do you have a boyfriend? You probably do, I really shouldn't be talking to you. I'm so sorry."

Kate cuts off his rambling. "Relax Castle, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh. Why not? I mean, you sound like a great person."

Kate sighs, shaking her head. "It's complicated."

"I like complicated," he blurts out unintentionally, surprising both himself and Kate. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean, complicated equals mystery and I like solving mysteries."

"I don't think I'm a mystery you want to solve," Kate informs, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Maybe I do," he replies.

Kate yelps as the coffee burns her tongue; the standard cool down period not working for Kate.

"Are you okay Kate?" Castle asks, worry evident.

"Just burnt my tongue. Hot coffee," she explains, a light blush tinging her cheeks.

"Ah. Speaking of coffee, how would you like to get one? Tomorrow, if you're free, that is."

Kate reminds herself to breathe. She's not a good person to get along with, and this is Richard Caste she's talking to.

"Castle, you have Kyra," she reminds him.

"Just as friends Kate. Plus we can gossip about why you don't have a boyfriend and you can help me win Kyra back," Castle says. "Please

"You're kind of metrosexual, you know?" Kate asks, laughing at his slightly girly response.

"Am not!" He protests.

"I actually planned on staying home tomorrow. Day off, laze around, you know?"

"My shout," he adds

"Well, I guess..."

"Kaaaateee," he drags out

"Okay, okay." She caves. "God, you're easy."

"I am not easy," he bites back, though there was humour in his voice. "I'll text you the coffee shop address. How about 10? In the morning?" He suggests.

"Sure," Kate replies, a yawn coming through.

"Right, you should go to sleep, Kate," he says in a soft voice.

"I'm good," she tries to convince, but fails when another yawn escapes.

"Sleep, Kate. Gotta be awake for our coffee date, remember?"

"Not a date, Castle," she reminds him, walking into her kitchen and dumping her cup in the sink. "You love Kyra, remember?"

"How could I forget?" He laughs. "Going to sleep now?"

Kate does a quick brush of her teeth, before walking back to her bedroom. "Yep, goodnight-morn– see you at 10, Castle," she responds, sliding back under her covers.

"See you at 10, Kate."

"Hey, Castle?" Kate calls, her voice sleepy.

"Yeah Kate?"

"Make sure you text the right number."