Come Find Me

If you're searching for forever, I'll be waiting; come find me. Caskett semi-AU canon from Nikki Heat's book release (2x05)

I see you, here in the darkness
Blinding light right where your heart is
If you're ready, heart is open
I'll be waiting
Come find me

Lyrics from "Find Me" by Sigma

Chapter 1

Spotlights. Camera flash bulbs. And a red carpet.

Individually these items were not things Kate would have added to her "most dreaded" list; however, when they were all rolled up together they formed one singular topic that immediately jumped to the top of said list: fame.

"Hey! It's the real Nikki Heat!"

"Over here Nikki!"

"Look this way Nikki!"

And, of course, she had to wear the dress, too—the one Lanie had said would knock the writer flat on his ass when he saw it: deep blue, curve-hugging, and sinfully short. Now there would be pictures of her in the dress in tomorrow's papers and those pictures would be labeled with the name Nikki Heat, which ultimately was better than Kate Beckett—but not by much.

Plastering on a fake-but-polite smile, Kate strutted her way down into the release party as quickly as her stilettos would allow while silently hoping she was walking her first and last red carpet. Then again, if the evening ended as she intended, it probably would not be her last, but she would cross that bridge when she got to it.

Just inside the bookstore serving as that evening's launch pad for Heat Wave a glass of champagne was thrust into her hand and Kate sipped at it greedily. Yes, alcohol would definitely settle the nerves that blossomed from her trip through the gauntlet. And so would the familiar faces of her colleagues, who she thankfully saw standing by the temporary bar several feet away. She moved towards them as though they possessed their own gravitational force.

"Don't you clean up nice, Detective?"

Kate nodded to her superior. "Thanks, Captain; you're not looking so bad yourself. Neither are you two."

"Who us?"

"Oh this old thing?" Her partners chorused while smoothing down their respective blazers.

"Castle's here somewhere, I assume."

Montgomery nodded and then sipped his beer before gesturing with the bottle. "Making his rounds, you know. I'm sure you'll want to speak with him—especially after you read the book dedication."

She did a double take in his direction. "Dedication? Why? What does it say?"

Montgomery merely grinned at her. "Go take a look for yourself."

Kate gave him a skeptical gaze for several moments before taking his advice and wandering over to one of the main tables stacked with crisp copies of Richard Castle's latest novel. She stood in front of the table, taking in the display, while finishing off the last of her champagne. Even though she had read a draft copy of the book two months earlier, she could still hardly believe that it was a real, published novel, displaying a silhouette image of a body the writer promised wasn't hers but still bore a striking resemblance. Amazing.

Nine months earlier, when she was called to the scene of a body covered in rose petals with sunflowers over its eyes, she had thought maybe—maybe—she would have the opportunity to meet and speak with her favorite author with regards to their case. To be at the point they were then—partners, best friends, and possibly soon to be more—would have been unfathomable at that time. So would have the book Nikki Heat.

When after closing the copycat murder case Castle called her and politely asked to shadow her for research, she really had not known what to say. He'd been surprisingly helpful during their initial investigation and though he'd been in her way a few times she hadn't really minded it—it had almost been fun. However, she was deeply concerned that extending the engagement wouldn't work out for either of them. She requested to think about it and he had obliged, but ultimately Montgomery's and the mayor's desire for good press had pushed her to accept on a trial basis that had never expired.

The first two weeks he followed her he trailed several steps behind, took plenty of notes, and asked an astounding amount of questions. Finally, unable to suppress her curiosity, she asked him what exactly he was trying to research thinking she could better guide and assist him if he would tell her what he was trying to create. It was then she first heard the name Nikki Heat.

To say that she was shocked upon discovering he intended to write his new best-selling character based on her would have been a grand understatement. She was flummoxed, flustered, and a little bit flattered. She insisted she was not interesting enough to provide the groundwork for a new detective character, but he politely disagreed, and simply went back to his note taking.

For those first few weeks, Richard Castle had still been very much a mystery to her. He was studious and reserved during most of her interactions with victims and suspects. If he did speak, it was almost in an apologetic sort of way, though his input was nearly always helpful. He didn't speak much about himself or his family, which was all right with her, because she didn't want to offer up much information about her own personal life. Then, nearly a month into their shadowing, a case came up that involved reenacting an old-fashioned duel, which seemed to strike his fancy. Through it she ended up discovering he was quite a good shot and had a surprising breadth of knowledge on the most random subjects. From that case on, he seemed to come out of his shell and within a few weeks was the chatty, positive, joke-cracking man she knew to that day. A man she cared about—a lot.

A waiter passing by at that moment offered to take her empty champagne flute and Kate placed it on his tray with a thank you. She then tucked her clutch purse beneath one arm and reached out for one of the pristinely displayed novels. She smoothed her fingers over the spine and cover, tracing her index finger over the letters of the author's name, and then finally flipped open the cover and thumbed through the pages until she reached the dedication.

To the extraordinary KB and all my friends at the Twelfth.

Kate felt her heard flutter beneath her ribcage as her eyes focused on the descriptor once more. Extraordinary—he thought she was extraordinary. She supposed this sentiment didn't completely shock her as he was not one to shy away from compliments. He made no secret of the fact that he found her to be beautiful and she'd lost track of the number of times he'd called her an incredible investigator or something similar. Plus, she caught him gazing at her with that dopey, besotted grin of his at least once a day if not more. Every time, it made her cheeks flush and her heart stutter for no man had ever looked at her quite that way before. Extraordinary.

Now even more anxious to talk to the writer face to face, Kate lifted her head and scanned her eyes around the room, searching. Her gaze fell on the boys, who appeared to be clustered together, smirking at her, but she ignored them and continued her sweep. Finally, she saw him off in a corner speaking to a woman nearly a foot shorter than him with black hair smoothed back into a knot at the back of her head. The woman appeared to be very serious about their conversation while Castle merely looked impatient. He glanced up at just the right moment, their eyes locked, he smiled at her and—

Damn. Her heart was doing that fluttering thing again, only this time her stomach went along for the ride. Those feelings she'd tried so long to brush away as a schoolgirl crush swirled around in her gut before settling in her low belly and—shit. She knew she should have ignored them. He was her partner and that was probably how they should remain, but damn it that was not what she wanted—what her heart wanted.

Richard Castle was a sweet, kind, and loyal man. He was the type of man who would take the shirt off his own back and give it to a total stranger if he thought they needed it. He was perplexing, frustrating, and downright annoying somedays with his childlike humor, but it was that humor that made her laugh, and brought joy back into her life when she thought it had gone forever. Every day in his presence was a reminder that she needed to force herself outside of the bleak cave her job could pen her in and step into the light to see that good remained in the world and he was a constant source of it.

For several months Kate had struggled with her true feelings for the writer in her life. As someone who was self-proclaimed horrendous at relationships, she forced herself to ignore her romantic feelings for him for longer than she knew she should have, but when she ultimately accepted them, she was faced with a variety of new concerns. Continually battling for the top two spots were: What if he didn't feel the same? And what if he did?

Considering how he looked at her, complimented her, and, as the boys had pointed out, wrote a whole damn book about her, Kate felt reasonably confident that Castle did reciprocate her feelings, but that brought her to her next greatest fear: what if things between them didn't work out? Though they had not yet known each other on a personal level for a year, he was very important to her; a very important friend. Losing their friendship and partnership would be greatly disappointing and it was absolutely something she did not want, which was why she kept her feelings at bay.

But then, she'd look at him, catch him smiling at her and imagine curling up her body beside his and spending a night in his arms. She'd think about how his lips would feel against hers or how wonderful it would be to run her fingers through his hair as he cradled her body against his. She wanted him, damn it, and it was time they both got what they wanted.

"Hey."

His husky greeting sent a shiver down her spine and she managed a slightly nervous sounding, "Hi Castle," in return.

"I really appreciate you coming this evening."

"Wouldn't have missed it. Thank you, for the invitation—and the dedication. That's…wow."

He smiled easily. "Well I mean it; you are extraordinary. So, ah, can I get you a drink?"

Kate smiled as his comment was a perfect lead-in to the invitation she wanted to propose. "Actually, I was thinking I could buy you one—later, I mean. Once you can get out of here."

His brow jumped. "Oh! Buy me a drink?"

"Yeah—a congratulatory drink. I know you have obligations here but-"

"No, that sounds nice, Beckett, but, uh," he looked uncertain and gazed quickly down at his watch. "Might be a little while until I can get out of here—probably at least an hour. I can meet you somewhere."

She waved her hand casually at him. "No it's fine; I'll just make the rounds. Come find me when you're ready to go."

He grinned and nodded at her. "You got it, Beckett; enjoy the party." With that, he headed off in the direction of his agent's waving hand and Kate sucked in a deep breath. Okay; one hour. That was plenty of time to calm her nerves—right?

"So what are we toasting to?"

Kate smiled up at her companion as she passed over the whisky glass that was a twin to hers. They had traveled downtown from the release party to a little corner bar she was fond off not too far from her apartment. He had insisted he didn't care where they went and she thought the proximity might be to her advantage. Plus, she knew this establishment to be reasonably quiet, even on a Friday night.

"You," she told him. "To another wonderful book."

"Which I couldn't have written without you."

She shrugged one shoulder and held up her glass as she faced him. "A mutual toast then." He bobbed his head, clinked his glass against hers, and then they both drank. Kate shut her eyes as the whisky burned a trail down her throat. It wasn't perhaps the best she'd had, but it would hopefully do the job of settling her nerves than the champagne had. So would the talking. Talking things out with Castle always made her feel more comfortable and this was just another conversation between them.

The writer hummed as he set down his glass and leaned back against the petite booth they'd claimed as their own. "So what'd you think of the party?"

"It was something. Didn't exactly expect the red carpet and all those cameras." Castle had conveniently left those out of his invitation when telling her and the boys about the open bar and delicious hors d'oeuvres.

He hummed and sipped his drink again. "I know the spotlight can be a bit shocking to someone not used to it, but I'm sure you looked gorgeous in every picture they took. Next time we'll have you walk in with Mother—she just soaks it up."

Kate let out a laugh. "Shame she had to miss tonight." It truly was as Martha Rodgers was not only a riot every time Kate saw her, but she presumably wanted to be there for her only son. Castle probably would have wanted her there as well seeing as she was his only family. Kate had always thought her relative list was rather short until she heard that his only contained one name other than his own. He had no wife, no children, no siblings and perhaps most tragically no father. He took it in stride, though, choosing to surround himself with a family of his own making: his good friends. Or, at least, that's what he always told her.

He waved his left hand dismissively. "Oh don't worry. She sent me two negative reviews to ground me—like always."

Tapping her fingers against her drinking glass, Kate thought back to two hours earlier as she milled around the release party. For the most part all the chatter she heard was very positive, which made her both feel happy and a bit uncertain. She was, of course, very glad for her partner and friend; she wanted him to be successful in whatever he did. Yet, considering she was the inspiration for the novel, she found it slightly uncomfortable to be happy about the book's future success for it felt a bit narcissistic in and odd, round-about sort of way. Despite that, her wish for her friend's future career outweighed her own, slightly unfounded discomfort. "From what I heard most of the reviews were positive."

He hummed. "Mm yeah. Paula was telling me about what might be up next. More Nikki heats. Perhaps something different."

Kate felt her heart flutter in her chest as a wave of nerves passed through her. Something different? Surely, that would mean an end to their work partnership—something she had not truly considered, even if it was only ever supposed to be on a trial basis. Or, perhaps, maybe he would continue to shadow her and simply focus his books on a different character. "Would you want to write more of Nikki?" she asked, a bit hesitant.

His response was an immediate smile. "Of course. I never intended for the book to be a standalone. There's definitely more to her story."

Her expression reflected his and she said, "Glad to hear it," before bringing her drinking glass to her lips.

They spoke for several more minutes about what Nikki Heat's future adventures could possibly entail and how her romantic relationship with the character Jameson Rook might progress given their dynamite-and-matches like chemistry. As she listened to Castle speak, Kate could not help but be reminded of yet another clue that he was as interested in her as she was in him: the character of Rook. It didn't take a detective to tell that Rook was Castle's piece of himself within the story and he had chosen to write a tale in which her counterpart and his counterpart were intimate. During their ride-alongs he had at one point explained that he occasionally wrote pieces of a story because he knew they would be most interesting to the audience, and the Rook/Heat romance could have classified as such, but she truly did not think it did—at least, not entirely.

As though he was reading her mind, Castle finished of his drink and held up the glass offering, "Another round?"

Kate felt her cheeks flush and was immediately thankful for the dim atmosphere. "Ah, no—well, not here."

"Another bar?"

"Not exactly. C'mon." She had paid for the drinks upon receiving them so they needed only to leave their glasses behind as she led the way out of the narrow space in between booths and standing tables. Nearing the tight entranceway, Kate reached back and grabbed for her partner's wrist, making sure to guide him out behind her and into the now-cool night air. Once they were standing facing each other, she looked up at the perplexed expression he wore and giggled.

"What are you up to, Kate?"

She shrugged and then swayed her body back and forth, definitely feeling more than a little coy thanks to the after-effects of her whisky. "You haven't figured it out yet?"

"Evidently not."

"So why don't you walk me home and maybe you'll figure it out on the way."

He moved to take a step forward, but then stopped, drew back and gazed down at her cautiously. "What…what's going on?"

She half-laughed, half-grumbled at him. Why had he chosen that moment to forget how to be his incredibly observant self? Stepping up to face him Kate turned her expression as serious as the alcohol swirling around in her brain would allow. "Castle. I want you to come home with me."

Somewhat surprisingly, he began to appear very uncertain. He held up his hands, palms facing out, and took a small step back from her. "I…I thought this was just a drink?"

Again, she shrugged. "And now it's more." She took a step in the direction of her apartment building, but then realized he still appeared rather frozen, which caused her to knit her brow. "What's wrong?"

"Kate…"

Her face flushing for an entirely different reason, Kate took a full step back from him. She knew that tone—it was the same tone that any male used to preface a statement like, "It's not you, it's me," or "I thought we were just hanging out." Admittedly, she had not heard that tone often in her life, but she certainly knew it when she heard it. Fuck! How had she been so wrong?

"I thought you wanted this?" The words slipped out without her permission, before she could turn, run, and hide. Wallow in mortification of being incorrect about one of the most unfortunate things to be incorrect about.

"No." His words sliced through her like hot iron, so painful that not only the look of great remorse on his face could soften then. "I…I can't. I can't do more."

Though she felt her diaphragm stutter in her chest with her next intake of breath, Kate felt rooted to the spot as her brain processed his words. Her heart wanted to sprint away as fast as possible, chain itself up with padlocks and Kevlar, never to be released again, but her brain—her brain was processing.

What did, "I can't," mean? He hadn't directly said he wasn't interested or used any variation of the ever-dreaded, "I only think of you as a friend," but had instead insisted that he could not be with her. But why? Was he—oh, god—was he with someone else? Wouldn't he have said? But then again, he didn't speak much about his dating life or relationships so maybe…maybe…

"Are you with someone?" she asked, her confused tone just barely above a whisper.

He lowered his chin, shook his head only fractionally, and then muttered out, "I can't—I'm sorry," before turning on his heel and walking quickly in the opposite direction.

"Castle!" she called out after him, but he didn't stop. He just walked away, never hesitating or turning back, leaving her to wonder what the hell had just gone wrong.

A/N: First, a few quick details: There are 10 chapters. This fic will be heavy M rated beginning in Ch 7

Also, as you may have noticed, it's a slightly-AU beginning insofar as Castle's backstory only.

Finally, I did have inspiration for this story, however telling you what it is will ruin the surprise, so I'll be revealing that later on :)

For now, thank you for reading - hope you enjoy!