Author's Note: This story is based on the following single short chapter written by restoringthestory, who posted this sometime ago and then kindly offered to let others finish or "adopt" the story. After reading restoringthestory's work, I became compelled to build on it and have, with the original author's permission, posted the original piece as Chapter one of my story. The remaining chapters, starting with Chapter 2, will be my own work – this is to serve as a basis/background for my story as well as due credit for the inspiration provided. The original story was titled Castle's Secret, and in the original author's note the offer/challenge to continue the story was referred to as The Man Behind The Badge – hence the name of my story is also a tribute to the original.

This story is mostly finished and is so far about 40 pages in my word processor. I only have internet access on the weekends, so it may be a few days between chapters but, since I hate unfinished stories, I will finish this as quickly as possible. This is my first time writing anything for fanfiction. I'd appreciate any feedback, whether complimentary or critical. This is unbeta'd except for my partner reading and offering suggestions. One last note – as I explained to the original author, I did change the final line of this story as I couldn't quite get going in that direction. I left the line as originally published in this chapter, but in italics. Chapter 2 will start at the same exact moment, but with a slightly different line.

Chapter 1

Richard Castle was mad, so mad that he wanted to hit something. Now, if you ask anyone that knows him they will say that he is as opposite to violent as you can get. He is a writer, not a fighter. However, in this case he really wanted to punch, rip, tear, something! It all started when that new detective appeared. Now, if his mother and daughter are to be believed, this was a very fine example of the male specimen. (Traitors) Dark hair smarts, tall. A regular mans man. Castle hated him for it. No longer was he the one that theories were bounced off of. He was a coffee boy, the kid that the adults told to go play when they were discussing something that they thought was above his head. It was so bad that the other people in the station were beginning to pity him! He was not there to be pitied! He was there to help, and to write a bestselling novel. Now, what the others at the station did not know is that he could have written this book without them. In reality the character of Nikki Heat was born the moment that he met Detective Beckett, not after shadowing her for a year. He had written books before without a "muse". The real reason that he wanted to shadow the detective was he wanted to be useful. He liked a good mystery, and he wanted to help solve some. The hot female detective that he was shadowing was just a perk of sorts. He looked around; there were the two detectives, huddled over by the board, trying to solve their latest case. He sighed. He knew who did it; it was just a matter of getting the high and mighty detectives over there to listen to him. He got up and walked over. Beckett was just leaning over to say something to Demming.

"Now, if you ask me…" Castle started.

"But we didn't" Demming cut him off.

Castle let a long breath out of his nose, 'Let it go, let it go' a voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother said in his head. He tried again.

"Now detective, I would like to remind you,"

"And I would like to remind you, Mr. Castle that you are not a detective, you are a shadow, and you have no place on this part of the case." Demming cut him off again. Castle looked at Beckett, hoping for some back up, she opened her mouth, as though to say something, looked at Demming, and the closed it again. Castle turned away, hurt. Turning around Demming spoke again,

"You should go back to your writing Castle; you have no idea what it means to be a cop." That did it. Castle sup on his heel, fist out, it connected with Demming's eye with a solid CRACK. The detective went down. The precinct was silent. Castle bent down and lifted Demming up. Righting him and dusting him off, he said,

"I would do a little more research before making assumptions about people Detective." He turned around, grabbing his coat from the chair next to Beckett's desk. Demming called after him

"More research, ha!, What police academy did you graduate from?"

Castle paused at the door

"San Francisco Police Academy, class of 1988." With that final note, he walked onto the elevator and the doors closed.