A/N: This story is an insert, set near the end of episode 1x01. It's another short story written off the back of a photo I saw that reminded me of a young Kate Beckett, only with longer hair than Season 1. The photo is the cover image for this story, as usual, or you can see it on my Twitter feed. One-shot. Complete.

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Early one Sunday morning, eyes bleary from sitting up half the night writing, Castle stumbled to the kitchen to make coffee, only to find the freezer empty of beans, the space in the cabinet for his back-up stash starkly bare. With Alexis still sleeping and his mother sleeping it off, he decided to head out for a fresh-brewed caffeine hit and a restock of his shelves while he was at it.

He threw a chunky knit sweater over his t-shirt and a pair of jeans over yesterday's boxer shorts. Fresh socks and a quick brush of his teeth were his concession to hygiene, but only because he couldn't find yesterday's socks. His hair took some rough and tumble from his fingers, while a splash of cologne stung his stubbled jaw, and then he was ready to hit the streets.

Even bundled up in a jacket, the frigid New York air caught his breath, eyes quickly watering from the cold. He calculated time and distance to frozen toes and reindeer nose, and adjusted his route accordingly. Dean and Deluca was a mere two blocks up Crosby and one block over, on the corner of Spring and Broadway, and with enough coffee beans to sink a merchant ship and then some, he struck out in that direction; like a caffeine-addicted homing pigeon.

He got a little lost in the shuffle on the corner of busy Spring Street, when the subway disgorged a bunch of Japanese tourists flowing against the tide, cameras strung like leis around their necks. But then he was turning the corner and heading in through those forest-green doors to a food-lover's paradise; the kind of deli angels might have envisioned if they were looking for a heavenly snack.

Suddenly coffee beans weren't the only thing his pantry needed. Once inside, surrounded by the sublime aroma of briny olives, rich, ripe cheeses, Serrano ham and other expensive cold cuts, chocolate of the highest cocoa content, wine, spirits and coffee, coffee, and more coffee, he found himself grabbing a basket and heading deep into this culinary treasure trove.

Over a hundred dollars lighter and his goods bagged, he lifted his take-out coffee cup and headed for the door. His mouth was watering at the prospect of that first sensual hit of coffee, taste buds howling to be slaked. And that's when he saw her.

Seated at the small window shelf, alone, sat Detective Kate Beckett. She had her back to him, her down coat draped over the only other stool, which sat to her right. She had her hair knotted into a careless, artful bun. A simple white cotton shirt hung a little loosely from her slender shoulders, wide cuffs exposing her wrists so that he noted a small tattoo on the inside of her left arm: a circle of tiny blue stars, like the design on the European Union flag; a design that stood for the ideals of unity, solidarity and harmony among the peoples of Europe. He had no time to ponder the meaning this surprise tattoo held for Kate, since his brain was too caught up absorbing the detail he could see to fathom the mysteries he couldn't. She looked so impossibly young witnessed unaware like this; more like a college kid home for the holidays. Not a homicide detective who carried a gun. Never that.

Castle froze, coffee cup in one hand, bag of expensive groceries dangling from the other, while he took in the scene. She sat slightly hunched over, her posture that of the afore-imagined college girl instead of the upright, disciplined deportment she adopted when at work. A camera sat on the ledge beside her own cup of coffee, while her finger hovered over the screen of her phone. This hovering pose, lip drawn between teeth, spoke to indecision, hesitation, the kind of mulling a girl might go through before taking a leap and texting a guy. He could be wrong. Of course he could be wrong, but this was the story he spun for himself while he watched her decide what to do next.

Despite his not making a sound, it took Kate all of a couple of seconds to detect his lingering presence behind her. Fingertips pressed to her soft, pink lips, mid-thought, she turned around.

Castle cleared his throat and then blurted out the first thing he could think of. "Uh...hi. I had no idea this was your neighborhood too."

Kate didn't say anything. Worryingly, she just looked at him as if he were a mirage: something she'd once imagined she'd witnessed, only to discover it was a one-off trick of the light.

Castle took a step closer, tilting his head to one side, like a man approaching a wildcat might: carefully, submissively, definitely not making sustained eye-contact. "Detective? Everything okay there?"

"Are you following me?"

Castle frowned as he straightened. "What? No! Absolutely not."

"So…on some random Sunday morning, you're saying it's just a total coincidence that you and I happen to be in the same store at the exact same time?"

"I live two blocks away. This is my neighborhood," he protested. He wanted to add, 'what's your excuse?' since she basically seemed to be accusing him of stalking her, but that sounded kind of rude and he didn't want them getting off in the wrong foot. Again.

"Two blocks?" She nodded, becoming at least a little contrite. "Right. I see."

"So if anyone's stalking anyone…" Castle missed these signs of contrition and plowed on like a wrecking ball.

Kate narrowed her eyes. "Wait. I didn't accuse you of stalking me."

"Oh, no?"

"No. It just seems weird."

"What does?"

"This. You. Running into you like this. I mean we had never met before you got involved in my last case and it's a big city and suddenly…here you are again," she explained, holding out her hand to indicate the writer.

"Ever think it's maybe here you are again?"

Kate sighed, trying to suppress some annoyance. "Potato, potahto."

"You know, in just a few days, I'd forgotten how pedantic you can be. How did that happen?"

"Pedantic? Well, no way had I forgotten what an arrogant ass you can be."

They glared at one another for a couple of seconds, until the door burst open and a glamorous older woman, with a wicker shopping basket and perfectly-coiffured silvery hair, swept in. The cold blast of air accompanying her seemed to cool their animosity towards one another, leaving them looking sheepish and awkward, while the cougar gave Castle the eye.

"Not many women don't find you attractive, do they?" Kate mused aloud.

Castle turned to follow Kate's gaze. She was staring at the back of the glamorous grand dame. "What? Who? Her?"

Kate nodded and smiled a knowing smile. "I must drive you crazy."

"You? That's a little presumptuous, don't you think? I mean we've only worked one case together. We barely even got to—"

"Yes, and I didn't fall for your charms or at your feet or ask for your number or invite you into my bed. Ergo, must drive you nuts," she pointed out with a certain triumphant smugness; smugness derived from knowing that she was right. She glanced beyond Castle once more, and added, "I think she waving at you."

Castle whipped around in panic to discover that the older woman was indeed giving him a little come-on wave from behind a display of fresh oysters. Oh, the symbolism.

He quickly turned back to face Kate again. "Is she still looking?" he hissed, pride fast turning to fear.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it?" Kate teased, enjoying how flustered the writer seemed for a change.

"What doesn't?"

"Being pursued."

"I didn't pursue—"

Kate grinned. "Oh, I think she's…yes, she's coming this way," she whispered loudly.

"Save me?" Castle mouthed in terror.

"What's it worth?"

"Anything. Name your price. You want to borrow my Ferrari? It's yours."

"Is that the best you've got?" Kate scoffed.

The sound of the woman's high-heeled boots rang out on the tiled floor the closer she got. "Uh—" Castle looked dumbstruck, as if his brain had frozen like a hung-up hard drive. "Please?" he begged. "Do something."

Before they could negotiation any further, the woman appeared at Castle's elbow. "Oh, my. It is you! I knew it," she beamed, gripping his bicep with considerable force. The gesture felt far too intimate and predatory. His discomfort seemed to amuse Kate no end.

Castle squeaked and flinched when the woman leaned in to plant a perfumed kiss on his cheek, and Kate had to bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing.

"Eh…do I…do I…" he stuttered, wracking his brains, trying to place her Botoxed face.

"Richard Castle, I do believe you're blushing," the woman teased, giving his arm a squeeze that had her ample bosom pressed up against his side.

"This is my…my…Kate Beckett. Meet—"

"Hi, I'm Kate. Rick's girlfriend. Pleasure to meet you. And you are…?"

Smooth as you like, she lied to this stranger's face. When she stuck her hand out for the woman to shake, a cooler and more in control woman Castle had never seen. While he stood there like a stuttering fool between these two strong females, Kate appeared to own the room.

"Nancy Delano," the older woman beamed. "I'm a dear friend of Richard's mother, Martha. Such a delight to meet you, Kate." She held Kate's hand in both of her own while she nudged Castle in the ribs. "Martha said there was some beautiful girl you couldn't stop talking about. And I believe I'm the first one to meet her. Just wait 'til I tell our little luncheon group the good news. Richard finally has a girlfriend."

The look of abject horror on Castle's face was enough to bring a pang of sympathy rippling through Kate. She gave him a what-can-you-do shrug when Nancy Delano finally released her hand.

"You kids look adorable. Martha must be over the moon," Nancy cooed, wiggling the parts of her face that were still mobile enough to move to indicate her excitement.

Castle took a breath and grit his teeth. "You betcha," he grimaced more than smiled.

"Well, I'm having a little soiree tonight. An intimate dinner for ten. I just dropped by to add a few things to my catering order. Better scoot. Hair salon beckons." She turned to Castle, putting the look of terror back on his face when she clasped his hand once more. "Richard, please remind your mother drinks start at seven sharp. We want to be seated by eight at the latest." Turning to Kate, she whispered, "Martha likes to make an entrance," while raising her hand and shaking it a little to indicate that Castle's mother also liked a drink.

Castle managed to maintain his manners while this nosey woman cast aspersions on his family. "Sure. No problem. I'll give her your message."

And with that, the cougar swept away, in a cloud of strong perfume and a swirl of rabbit fur coat, to harass some poor store clerk.

Castle remained rooted to the spot for a second or two, looking as if he'd just been slapped around the face by a cold, wet trout. Seeing his state of speechlessness, Kate felt sorry for him all over again.

"I—" he finally croaked, shaking his head.

"Hey," Kate reached out gingerly to touch his arm. "Don't worry about it. I don't think you were her first victim and somehow I don't think you'll be her last."

"About my mother, she—"

"Please. No need to explain," Kate assured him. Her own father had been a source of embarrassment for a long time after her mother died. Families were messy, but there was no need to open yourself up, like a gutted fish, for the world to see your pain.

"Thanks." Castle looked at his feet.

He seemed so subdued. Not at all the noisy, irritating, arrogant playboy she'd arrested at his book party just a couple of weeks ago.

"Look, how about I buy you a cup of coffee? That one must be cold."

Castle glanced at the takeout cup in his hand as if discovering it for the first time. "That— Yes, please. That would be great. I only came out for coffee, if you can believe," he explained, raising the bulging shopping bag to show her.

Kate hopped down off her stool. "Have you eaten?"

He shook his head. "I've…I've been up all night writing."

"And you forgot?"

"Pretty much."

"Where's your daughter?"

"Home in bed, still sleeping. At least I hope. My mother is home too. So she'll be fine. I left a note."

"Okay, well, if you have time, how about you take that spot by the window and I'll go get us more coffee and something to eat? For one horrible moment I thought Blanche Devereux over there was about to invite us to her intimate little soiree. Relief has made me ravenous," she laughed, grinning even wider when Castle smiled for the first time too.

He placed Kate's coat on her own stool and took the other one for himself, bag of shopping stowed at his feet. He hadn't seen her since they'd parted company in the alleyway after taking down Harrison Tisdale. The very last words she'd whispered in his ear, 'You have no idea,' still sent a shiver down his spine a week later whenever he thought back to that moment; to the teasing promise it seemed to offer. She might have turned him down for dinner and a debriefing then, but she wasn't turning him down now. In fact, she was off buying him coffee after pretending to be his girlfriend. There was clearly a lot more to Kate Beckett than the prissy cop who treated him like a suspect, then held him at arm's length and berated him constantly while they worked together. Good job too.

He stared out of the window at the shoppers hustling by on Broadway while he mulled everything over. Kate reappeared a couple of minutes later with a bag of pastries and two large takeout cups of coffee.

"I wasn't sure how you take your coffee, so I ordered cappuccino."

"That's…perfect. I am so caffeine starved right now I think I'd happily drink that swill they stew to death at the Twelfth."

Kate gave him a dubious look and then shook her head. "I wouldn't go that far."

Castle chuckled at her grimace, while she gracefully eased up onto the stool beside him. Now that they were sitting together, elbow-to-elbow, things turned a little quiet and a little awkward, incredibly fast.

"What are you writing?" Kate finally asked, just as Castle pointed to her camera and said, "So you like to take pictures?"

They both laughed, making noise to cover the uncomfortable moment's silence, and then they lip-synced, "Sorry, you first," with all the skill of professional voice-over artists. More uneasy laughter followed, accompanied by a mirroring of magical synchronicity when they both reached for their coffee cup at the exact same moment. It was freakish to say the least.

Kate took a sip, hiding her smile in the plastic lid, while Castle popped the top off his cup to inhale the aroma of his cappuccino, before finally indulging in a sip of his own.

"Mm," he hummed expansively, nodding.

"Good?" Kate laughed, watching him savor the flavor as it burst on his tongue.

He nodded, clutching the cup near his face so that the aroma could waft in front of his nose. "Long night. "

"Yeah, writing, you said?"

Castle looked something close to guilty though Kate had no idea why. "Just…came to me. Last few days."

Kate shook her head. "Ideas?"

"Words, ideas, some fabulous characters, a great plot…once they started they just wouldn't stop." His enthusiasm was plain to see.

"Is…is that unusual?"

"Lately? Yeah. I've been going through something of a barren spell."

This didn't sound like the Richard Castle Kate Beckett had so recently met and worked with. He sounded humble and grateful for this recent creative windfall, almost disbelieving of his own good fortune.

"Must be difficult. Coming up with the next big idea."

"For a long time it wasn't. Then I hit a point where anything I came up with just sounded stale, derivative...hackneyed." He rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. "Some days my mind was just one big blank page. Terrifying silence."

"Wish I could say the same. But the bodies just keep on coming."

Castle stared at her for a long moment, like a corrupt man who'd just seen the light. "They keep on coming, huh?"

"What can I say?" Kate shrugged. "People in this city like to kill one another and they have a boundless imagination when it comes to the how, why and where of it."

"That must make life…interesting," he suggested, trying to smother the thrum of excitement churning in his gut.

"Certainly never dull," Kate admitted, taking another slug of coffee, and then tearing a chunk off her pastry.

Castle decided to change tack while he let his mind wander over what Kate had just said. "So, I see you have a camera. You like taking pictures or is this something work-related?"

Kate blushed almost imperceptively. "It's…" She reached for the camera, grasping it between both hands, turning it carefully. "It's a hobby. I pick a section of the city, walk the streets, take photos, stop for coffee," she explained, moving to set the camera down once more.

"May I?" Castle asked.

Kate nodded, turning the screen on and handing him the camera to let him see the photos she'd taken earlier that day. An impressive slideshow of historic SoHo architecture, with its cast-iron buildings, ornate fire escapes, slender Corinthian columns, giant-scale windows, and many decorative details, like the circular glass discs set into the sidewalk steps to bring light to basements and the raised loading docks embellished with long-defunct foundry stamps, greeted him.

"You have a great eye," Castle said, reluctantly returning the camera.

Kate shrugged, modestly. "Gets me out."

She clammed up quickly, perhaps realizing this comment potentially revealed too much about her barren private life. She lifted the camera, framed a shot of Castle, snapping a candid portrait as a distraction from discussing her lonely weekends away from the precinct any further.

They finished their coffee in contemplative silence, both content to watch the other slideshow taking place in front of them; the live snapshots of Manhattan life passing by out on the street. Finally, with pastries demolished and new customers hovering with laden trays at their back, they could linger in Dean & Deluca no more.

"Well, this was nice," Kate was the first to offer politely, once they were back on the street, their coats fastened tight and their parcels secure. She stuck her hand out in lieu of anything better, unsure of the protocol the moment required. "Good luck with the writing. Hope those ideas keep coming."

Castle shook the hand she tendered, equally unsure what a kiss to the cheek might earn him this time around. "I'd say I hope yours keep coming too, but since we're talking homicides…" he grinned, "…best not."

Kate grinned back, looking down at the toes of her boots. "Yeah, best not. Every time you cheer me on another person dies. Not so good."

They chuckled awkwardly, lingering longer than they should. Neither of them seemed to want to leave.

Finally, Kate toed a silver dollar-sized patch of gum. "Well, I should…" she trailed off, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder to vaguely indicate heading up Broadway.

"Yeah," Castle sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Better head home myself. Hear what horrors my mother got up to last night."

Kate laughed. "Well, good luck with that. It was nice seeing you."

"You too, Beckett," Castle answered honestly.

And with a final wave, they turned their backs on one another and headed in opposite directions.

Castle had taken only a half-dozen steps, silently berating himself all the while, when he stopped, the nails of his right hand jammed into his palm as he spun around. "Hey, Beckett?" he called out, loudly enough that several passers-by startled and stared.

He watched Kate's dawdling progress away from him slow to a stop. It seemed an age before she turned around. "Yes?"

They made their way back towards one another to avoid more yelling, meeting in the middle.

Castle scuffed the ground. "I forgot to say thank you for the coffee."

Kate's eyes widened into an amused smile. "You called me back to thank me for a cup of coffee?"

Castle looked mortified. "Well…sorta…that, and to ask if you wanted to…" He stared at her face, stuck for more.

"To?" Kate prompted, entertained by this sudden burst of indecision and boldness, coupled with fear. This was nothing like the man she thought she knew at all.

"To join us for lunch? I brought a lot of food in there and…" He bit his lip.

"And you need my help eating it?" Kate suggested, dying to smirk and barely managing to hold it in.

"It sounds kind of dumb when you say it," he admitted. "Different than it sounded in my head."

"Well, how about we leave it in your head and I just say…okay. I'd love to come to lunch."

Castle's smile was a pitifully grateful one; wide and toothy and full of excited delight. "Was that a yes? You'll come home with me?"

"I'd offer to carry your books," she chuckled, "if you had any."

Castle nodded. "Great. Alexis will be so excited."

Walking home took no time at all once they cut off Broadway at Spring Street to free themselves from the crowds, wandering home along infinitely quieter Crosby Street. Castle held the door of his building open for Kate before following her inside. In the elevator, their sudden onset of nerves was palpable. Neither spoke nor made eye contact, and when they briefly did, their pupils flared wide, like ginormous black holes set to consume everything in their path.

Castle dropped his keys twice, sending the entire bunch crashing to the wooden floor of the hall with an unholy din. Kate finally stepped in to help, relieving him of his shopping bag in order that he might concentrate fully on sliding the little pointy bit into the hole. He rolled his eyes when she said this, tutting at her dirty mind. This teasing exchange eased the tension between them, and by the time the door finally opened, things felt close to normal again.

Normal didn't last long.

"Darlings!" Martha declared from across the loft.

Kate glanced at Castle in panic, handing him the shopping bag with an expression that said she might run.

"Morning, mother," Castle parried calmly, slipping a hand into the small of Kate's back to bring her further into his home, ensuring bolting became less of a possibility.

He closed the door, sealing off Kate's escape route entirely. Martha hopped down off a kitchen stool, elegant in a green satin robe, a tall glass of tomato juice in hand.

"Drinking already?"

Martha's answer was delivered with withering aplomb. "It's a Bloody Mary, Richard. Breakfast of Champions."

"Whatever," Castle muttered, giving Kate a look that hinted this wasn't the first time they'd enacted this particular scene.

Martha was halfway across the living room floor before they could regroup. "So…" she grinned, celery stalk swirling around her glass like a swizzle stick. "Is there something you two want to tell me?" she twinkled, switching her focus from Castle to Kate and back again. She looked excited and just a little smug.

Castle looked at Kate, and Kate shrugged.

"If you wanted to keep it a secret, Nancy Delano is the last person you should have told. Richard, you know that," she chastised. "Remember that painful debacle with the Saudi Prince a few years ago?"

"Mother he was married…to three different women."

"Yes, and thanks to Nancy Delano's big mouth, I narrowly missed out on becoming wife number four. Have you any idea how rich he was?"

"I have no words."

"Darling, don't be so dramatic. You're a writer. Of course you have words."

"None that seem appropriate right now," he muttered, earning himself a conspiratorial grin from Kate.

"So you're telling me Nancy was mistaken? 'Girlfriend', she said she clearly heard."

"Mother," Castle sighed, raking a hand through his hair. How on earth to explain?

But Kate touched his arm, allowing her fingers to briefly contract around his wrist. "Please, allow me?" she offered, giving him an encouraging smile. "This…misunderstanding is all my fault."

"Misunderstanding? You mean you're not…" Martha waved a bejeweled hand between them, "boyfriend and girlfriend? But you're so perfect for each other," she protested, and Kate's cheeks flamed a pretty pink.

"And yet we're not twelve anymore. Who says boyfriend and girlfriend at our age?" Castle moaned, deflecting.

"Speak for yourself," muttered Kate.

"Darlings, will someone please put me out of my misery and explain?"

Castle turned to grin at Kate, to her annoyance. "Yes, please, Beckett. We're all waiting. You got us into this mess so…"

She took a deep breath. "We…uh…that is…"

"Go on my dear," Martha twinkled expectantly, putting Kate under her considerable spotlight.

"Truth is...there is no we," she announced in a rush.

"You don't like my son?" Martha looked more wounded lioness all of a sudden than silver starlet.

"I—" She stammered to a halt, glancing at Castle for help. But he was enjoying the showdown between his mother and this sexy, female detective too much to intervene. For once he figured out that he might learn more if he kept his mouth shut.

"Don't mind me. We like to speak our minds around here," he assured her, turning to carry his shopping bags into the kitchen.

Martha was still waiting, a suspenseful look on her face.

"Of course I like…Castle," Kate assured his mother with an uncomfortable smile. "He's a hard man not to like," she added, lowering her voice in an attempt to prevent Castle from hearing her offer up praise in his name.

"So what's the problem?" Martha asked pointedly. "Are you seeing someone else?"

Kate's eyes widened in horror at being questioned about her personal life by this near stranger. "I'm…no, I'm not seeing anyone."

"Good news, darling. She's single," Martha called towards the kitchen, before turning her focus back on Kate. "But you don't like Richard enough to date him, is that it?"

Kate sighed. "We just met. We barely know each other. When we ran into one another at the coffee shop this morning and that woman…"

"Nancy," Martha helpfully filled in, smiling patiently.

Kate nodded. "Nancy. She kind of put Rick on the spot and…" Kate shrugged. "It was a stupid thing to do, kind of spur of the moment. Not at all how I'd normally behave, I have to tell you. It just kind of popped out."

"That he was your boyfriend just popped out?" Martha clarified, adding a knowing, "Uh-huh."

Kate nodded and Martha clapped her hands with excitement. "And doesn't that tell you something, my dear?"

"That I didn't get enough sleep last night?"

"That when you look at my son, darling girl, that's what you see. Early though it may be, you see a future here."

Well that was it. Kate was struck dumb by Martha's mental gymnastics. This astonishing piece of deductive reasoning might be flawed and a huge leap, but it could also be argued that it had some basis in her subconscious, she could see. Thankfully, Castle finally seemed mortified enough by his mother's lobbying on his behalf that he stepped back in to help. "Look, I invited Kate over to have brunch with us, mother. We're not dating. It was a joke. Show's over. Nothing to see here, folks. Move right along. And now that we've cleared that up, why don't you go get Alexis and we can all sit down to eat, instead of scaring our guest away."

Martha studied them both for a second, her disappointment and disapproval clear to see. "Such a waste," she tutted, shaking her head, before finally floating off to the upper floor of the loft to fetch her granddaughter, hands fluttering near her head as if to ward off some impending disaster as she muttered away to herself.

Castle turned to face Kate, his expression pained. "I am so sorry."

"Don't be. It's really all my fault."

"Well, for what it's worth, I enjoyed being your fictional boyfriend for a little while."

Kate blushed and looked down at her feet. She felt herself softening towards the writer, despite the pushiness of his eccentric mother. "My pleasure," was all she could muster, before clearing her throat and turning her attention to the food. "Help you with that?" she offered, eagerly getting stuck in to preparing lunch as a neat way to move beyond that uncomfortable tableau.

They passed a convivial couple of hours with Alexis. Even Martha got off her soap box, describing how perfectly matched Kate and Rick seemed, after her second glass of Prosecco and the umpteenth glare from Castle. When brunch was over Kate helped the writer with the washing up, and then they sat on the sofa for a while, just the two of them, chatting idly while they finished their second cup of coffee.

"I had a really great time," Kate confessed at the front door, while he helped her into her coat.

"Me too," Castle agreed, offering her a genuine, happy smile.

"We should do this again sometime," she blurted impulsively, since it seemed the natural thing to say as a follow-up.

Castle looked as if he'd just won the lottery. "Anytime, detective. I'm sure that would make my mother very happy."

"Don't forget Nancy," Kate chuckled to be a good sport, before ducking her head bashfully. "Well…I'll see you around," she said, backing out the door.

When she thrust out her hand, thinking it odd to leave his home without at least some parting gesture, Castle took her hand in his and, instead of shaking it as she intended, he lowered his lips to the smooth skin on the back and placed a kiss just above her knuckles. His eyes rose to meet hers over the top of this caress and she startled at the sincerity she caught in that impossibly warm, impossibly blue gaze. It had an intensity filled with need and longing, even loneliness, and so many questions she wasn't ready to hear let alone answer. She withdrew her hand quickly and left immediately, her pulse thrumming and her stomach doing the energetic back-flips of a girl half her age.

That night, alone in her bedroom, she cracked the spine of a book she hadn't touched in a long time. Gathering Storm read differently when approached by the light of someone you now felt you knew reasonably well. She stared at his photo on the inside of the dust jacket, shaking her head at her adolescent self for mooning over a man who had driven her to distraction just a week ago. But questions had begun to gather within her as to who this man really was, beyond the charming, cavalier cad she'd read about in the media. Witnessed in his home environment, amidst his family and his own, tasteful belongings, he was a whole other being – more grounded, caring, real, solid and skilled than she would ever have given him credit for. Yes, hard though it was to admit, after today's experience, Richard Castle really was starting to grow on Kate Beckett. She hummed to herself as she flipped off the light, wondering how long it might be before he got in touch with her again. Because that he would call, was no longer in doubt.

This was the first night in as long as she could remember that she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

The following morning, Beckett knocked on the door of Captain Montgomery's office. Then she poked her head inside. "Sir, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Come in, come in," he beckoned. "I just got a call from the Mayor's office, Detective Beckett. Apparently, you have a fan."

Kate frowned. "A fan, sir?

Still none the wiser, his cheery answer was a total shock. "Mm, Rick Castle. Seems he's found the main character for his next set of novels. A tough but savvy female detective."

Kate blinked double-time. "I'm…excuse me, sir? His what?"

"New novel. Seems you inspired the man to a whole new creation."

Not wanting to sound impolite, Kate took a moment to dissemble this news. He said he'd been up all night writing, that he'd found new inspiration from somewhere, but she'd been too polite to ask him what exactly he'd been writing about. "I'm…flattered?" she said, for something to say that wasn't just standing there blushing as she remembered the tender, respectful kiss he'd placed on the back of her hand when she left his home late yesterday afternoon, buzzed on Prosecco and the scent of life's new possibility.

"Don't be. He says he has to do research."

Unease crept up Kate's spine like a thief on a fire escape. "What kind of— Oh, no!"

Montgomery nodded. "Oh, yes."

"No way, sir. Absolutely not."

"Beckett, listen. He—"

"Sir, he's like a nine-year-old on a sugar rush, totally incapable of taking anything seriously." She now knew this to be a lie, but she didn't want a tagalong and she didn't need a partner, so she'd use this excuse while it still held some water with her boss.

Not much water, as it turned out. "But he did help us solve this case."

"Helped," she stressed. "But—"

"And when the Mayor's happy, the Commissioner's happy. And when the Commissioner's happy, I'm happy."

Politics. The part of policing she hated most. She was fighting a losing battle. She could see it in Montgomery's eyes. He was resigned, so she would have to become resigned too. "How long, sir?"

Montgomery nodded over Beckett's shoulder and her unease turned to horror. "Well, that's up to him."

Beckett turned, already knowing who she'd find standing behind her…listening. Castle was leaning against the doorjamb looking relaxed and about as handsome as she'd ever seen him. Damn him. He grinned at her and offered up a little wiggle of his fingers she instantly decided to categorize as both flippant and effeminate. She wondered whether he knew about this little deal he'd wangled for himself before they had lunch. One glimpse of the look in his eyes told her that he did; for certain he knew when he entertained her in his home, when his mother had lobbied for them dating, when he kissed her hand farewell, when she suggested they got together socially once more, that they would indeed be meeting again. It was a certainty because he had made sure of it. She now knew what if felt like to be socially engineered, manipulated for someone else's purpose. The shine she'd woken with that morning had tarnished in less time than it took to drink a cup of putrid precinct coffee.

She left Montgomery's office in a hurry, brushing past Castle, since arguing further was clearly futile and would only earn her an admonishment from her boss.

Castle trotted after her all the way to the break room door. "I…look, I can tell you're mad. But I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again when I called the Mayor. And then I met you in the coffee shop and…"

Kate turned to face him. "You knew by then, Castle. That's the point. You knew we would be working together when I made a fool of myself in front of...Nancy Delano—"

He jumped back in. "To be fair, I had no idea you were going to claim to be my girlfriend and—"

"Please let me finish? You knew we would be working together when I had to explain the whole 'girlfriend fiasco' to your mother, and having lunch with Alexis—"

Esposito and Ryan chose this very moment to zero in on the scene. "Are you guys dating?" they clamoured.

"Already?" Ryan added, nostrils flaring.

"I thought you hated him?" Esposito pointed out, jabbing a finger in Castle's direction.

Kate smiled smugly to cover her disappointment, and then she walked over to her desk as this little band of loyal men followed on behind. "Oh, I do. Believe me I do. Sit there, Mr. Castle," she instructed. "And don't say another word unless I ask you a specific question. Are we clear?"

"Yes, boss!" Castle snapped a mock-salute that drew a withering response from Kate.

"Don't call me that," she sighed, sitting down heavily at her desk and throwing open a file.

Castle clapped his hands together, brimming with unquenchable excitement. "This is going to be fun."

Kate lifted her head from the file she was studying. "Did I ask you a question?" Castle shook his head. "Then why are you still talking?"

Undeterred, he sat back in the uncomfortable guest chair beside her desk, grinning as he stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his arms. "So. Much. Fun."

Thank you for reading.