Author's note: Hello, everyone! This is a story about our favorite blue-eyed Irish detective, as seen through the eyes of his adorable wife. This is the first chapter, it's where they first meet. The next chapters will be based on references of various Kevin Ryan moments of Castle.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I have never been a fan of blue. I cannot give you a reason- it is just one of those things- you like it, or you don't. And you don't know why.

I do not own a single blue outfit. When I see too much blue around me, it tends to get on my nerves. And I hated The Smurfs.

So, no- I don't like the color blue.

Then I meet him.

We are on a blind date. Honestly, it is one I did not need to be in. I am perfectly capable of picking up my own dates, or being picked up by them, rather. But lately I have been busy. One of my friends knows someone at the New York Police Department who mentioned to her something about one of his colleagues wanting to be on a date- even a blind one, and I figured- why not?

So I go to the date, and I meet him.

The first thing I notice is how blue his eyes are.

And for once, I am not instantly reminded of how much I don't like this color.

Instead, I find it beautiful.

Then I notice he is wearing a blue shirt. A blue which almost exactly matches the shade of his eyes.

And again, I'm not resenting the fact that my date for the evening has chosen to wear the one color I do not like. Instead I find myself appreciating how much it has brought out his eyes. And then I think- any other color just would not have been this perfect.

Throughout the evening, my eyes are drawn to his again and again, and I see the changes in the blue in them as we talk about different topics.

It's a soft baby-blue when he talks about his family, it dims a little when he talks about his job which involves seeing dead bodies and arresting murderers almost every day, but then it brightens when he talks about his partners, his 'other family'. It sparkles as we discuss more and more random subjects, like which books we like to read-he loves Lord Of The Rings, when we talk about it the blue is brilliant; and what is the most stupid thing we can imagine ourselves doing- the blue is now shining with mischief and laughter.

Somehow we land on the topic of favorite color. His is maroon. When he asks mine, I look right into his eyes and say, 'Tonight, it's blue.'

My apartment is just two blocks away from the restaurant. He walks me home, and it seems like we are at my doorstep all too soon. He faces me, each of us quietly admits this is the nicest evening we have had in a while.

We are not in the brightly-lit restaurant anymore and the blue of his eyes seem darker now- almost like the green-blue of an ocean. I look into them and I know he's going to kiss me. He does. It's sweet and tentative at first, but I lean into him and make it a little deeper- just because I need to. It's over after a few moments. I secretly hope he is as sorry to break away from it as I am.

He says he's going to call me, then it's all goodbyes.

I look at the blue eyes one last time. They look like midnight.

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