A/N: Huge thanks to Maribea, Alex, and everyone who answered my endless questions and helped me.
disclaimer: My name isn't Andrew. It's Evelyn.
"Even the best fall down sometimes" -Collide, Howie Day
The leaves crunch beneath her feet as she runs the park's path. The chill that comes with the leaves changing has begun to sweep in giving her the tell tale sign she is going to need a jacket soon. She turns up the volume on her iPod as she continues down the path. Running has always been a stress reliever for her, well that and reading in a bubble bath. She tries to run everyday. Tries being the key word, the only thing that keeps her is a murder before 8 am.
The same blank screen has been taunting him for hours, fingers hovering over the keys lifelessly. He needs to write something, anything at this point. The frustration finally gets to him. He needs out of his office. Coffee, he thinks. He grabs a notebook and a pen incase inspiration strikes him. He walks the few blocks to the park with one of the best coffee vendors in the city.
Walking through the semi-crowded streets, he navigates his way to the entrance of the park. He makes his way towards the coffee cart intent on filling his need for caffeine. While waiting in line behind what appears to be an entire yoga class he checks his messages. Three text messages from Gina all saying his next book proposal was late. Ever since killing off Derrick Storm he has been at a stand still with writing. Anything he has come up with has either been turned down or he hasn't even bothered submitting, because the characters have been so flat. This is what has brought him here, inspiration.
What if he never finds inspiration again? What if he loses his advance? The 'what if's' were tormenting him as he forced a smile at the barista when it was finally his turn to order.
He rattles off his coffee order to the barista and then stands to the side of the cart hopelessly taking in the park's surroundings. The words "Coffee for Rick" snap him back to the barista holding his coffee. He is still lost in his thoughts as he approaches the bench he has been eyeing since he arrived at the park. His writer's eye has been taking in everything around him; he barely even registered the "LOOK OUT!" Even if he would have, it was too late.
She can smell the scent of the brown liquid she craves as she comes plowing down the hill. Her run is almost over, all she had to do was pass the coffee stand and that will be her 2 miles for the day. She pulls out her iPod as she continues sprinting down the hill; the peppy song she bought on impulse a few months ago is too much for her right now. By the time she looks up it is too late she is about to barrel into- Shit, is that Richard Castle. She barely gets out the words "LOOK OUT!"
"Shit," he says as he begins to pick himself off the pavement.
He'd being feeling this tomorrow for sure. This is going to leave a bruise on his ass, lovely. Even better he had his hot cup of coffee spilled on him by some idiot runner who wasn't watching where he was going. Looking up he sees the runner is in the same state he is in: soaked in hot coffee like they are some edible breakfast item and are going to have a bruise on their ass.
When, correction she gets up, he flounders for a minute as he realizes she's just as upset as he is. Shit, he groans inwardly as he realizes she's also coffee covered, oh and too top it off she's hot.
"I'm so sorry," comes falling from her lips as she lifts herself off the ground, "I was…." ,she sputters as she tries, futilely to wipe the hot drops of coffee off her arms, damn I just plowed through Richard freaking Castle, "I was messing with my iPod and wasn't paying attention. My head was down and it wouldn't skip the song, because it was playing some song about shaking it off and I have heard it one too many times and while it is good, I just…" He is enjoying watching me babble like an idiot isn't he? She can feel her cheeks turning redder than they already are. A small smile comes across his face. He is!
"No, no my fault I should have made sure the path was clear before I crossed, my inner writer got the best of me and my mind started to wander." He was doing it again letting his mind wander. Standing before him was this tall beautiful woman who he has just collided with and he doesn't even know her name.
"I'm Rick Castle," he says extending his hand.
"I know," The words come flying out of her mouth before she can stop them, her cheeks burning at his smile. Oh lord, please tell me he didn't just hear that. Knowing her luck he probably did, smooth Kate, real smooth.
"Kate Beckett," she says reaching out to shake his hand.
Even the way she said her name was attractive. Beckett. He liked it. He liked her.
"Nice to meet you Kate, what do you do when you aren't running into people in the park," he says with a playful tone.
"I'm a homicide detective."
She is a cop. Can she get any hotter? He knew the answer was probably yes.
"Murder," he says with an all too excited voice.
"How about you?"
"So we are going to play this game? You and I both know you know who I am, Beckett," he says with a sly grin.
He can see her twitch a little when he says 'Beckett'. That must bother her.
Did he just call me Beckett? Only the boys call me Beckett.
"I do not," she says with a bit of defensiveness.
"Are you sure about that?"
Looking away she begins walking towards the park's exit, back on to the street.
"So you are a fan!" he shouts from behind, while jogging trying to catch up.
She just keeps on walking, ignoring him the best she can. It was a hard task, when someone is chasing after you, saying your name over and over. She finally gives in and comes to a halt in the middle of a busy New York sidewalk waiting for him to catch up.
"What do you want Castle?" She quirks her eyebrow defiantly, drawing another smile from the writer.
Oh, who is using last names now?
"Have coffee with me."
"Coffee? Why?" she replies.
"Because you intrigue me."
He hopes he hasn't pushed too far, she has a look of suspicion on her face even as she answers.
"Fine. Coffee."
"Maybe this time we can drink the coffee and not wear it."
That earned him a look that no one had ever given him before, a look of disproval and 'seriously'.
"You will make a great book character."
"Excuse me?" she says looking at him with wide eyes as well as striking him in the chest. He grins smugly and gives her a shrug as a response.
And oh, did inspiration strike him alright.
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