Summary:

Fans of Jamison Rook and friends of Richard Castle are fighting for his interests without his knowledge or permission. Their common goal is to push Kate into his world. Beckett needs to figure out how to fight these battles and even as she fights against herself. Castle appears sparingly in the story, as does his foil, Josh. RC is showcased by the devotion of his friends and fans. Jim, Martha, Madison and Lanie as well as a few minor characters from previous episodes parade through the story.

Dedication: Srathor reviewed a previous story, encouraged me, and prompted this tale. This story is dedicated to him. (See what reviews can lead to!) Thank him if you enjoy the premise, but the errors and shortcomings are all mine.

Setting: Opening begins in season 4. Not a recovery fic, but the story starts there. No spoilers.

Disclaimer: Respect and acknowledgement given to Andrew Marlowe, creator of Castle. These characters belong to him, but I love playing with them. I am inspired by the actors and give kudos to their talent.

Prologue

When Captain Roy Montgomery was shot, darkness surrounded the thin blue line and claimed victory. The black bands around every badge heralded the shadows even in the brightest of light. Cops everywhere felt personally attacked by the forces of darkness. Then things got worse. The spotlight shown on that bright sunny day when Detective Katherine Beckett was gunned down was clear and open for the entire world to see. But the sun cast shadows. Lurking in the shadows was more than a lone gunman controlled by a dragon. Hiding in the recesses was a love and longing that would no longer be denied. Richard Castle's love came out into the light. With a monumental shift, lofty motivations and undeniable forces drew new battle lines.

The third time is a charm, right? Richard Castle cast his own spotlight on Kate Beckett for the third time. The first encounter was happenstance. A copycat killing from his books forced that first fateful rendezvous with destiny. It happened long after the fan met the author. Then the author met his muse and Kate Beckett's life forever entwined with Richard Castle.

The second monumental shift was upon the release of Heat Wave. Detective Kate Beckett's anonymity forever disappeared at that moment. While she was too far off the radar to be considered a celebrity, she was never again a nameless, faceless New Yorker. Even housewives in Iowa could Google her name and see her picture. Countless web pages (Google would count them but she couldn't bring herself to look) linked her and Nikki Heat. Forever. Real life altered and became entwined with a nonexistent fantasy woman who slept with a Combat Instructor and Journalist.

Now the third monumental event forever shifted Kate's life. This one wasn't as apparent, obvious, or even overt. It was overshadowed by a shot heard 'round the world.' No, this bullet wasn't historically significant, but in this day and age of instant news, when anything passed as news, a cop shot at a cop's funeral made news. And quietly, ever so softly, the whispered sentiment of the writer to the muse crept its way around cyberspace. Quiet did not imply slowness. Rather swiftly the hardcore groupies of Richard Castle heard the rumor. Whether he was overheard or the sentiment was implied from his grief, the rumor became fact, and fact became necessity.

The master of the macabre was at a funeral where his creation/inspiration was gunned down. If twitchy cops didn't unsettle the status quo enough, all the fanatics came out when Nikki Heat was shot. The regular fans were agitated. The friends of Richard Castle, from mayor to bartender, were silent as mice as the drama played out. Unbeknownst to the writer who caused it; he must be forgiven as the trauma hit him as hard and real as the unconscious woman whose future was in doubt.

Twitter: #NikkiHeat was shot!

ReTweet: Did you hear rumor? #WriteRCastle said ILY to #NikkiHeat!

Facebook: OMG! The extraordinary KB was shot! Sending prayers to her and her loved ones.

At the Hospital

The current battle ground smelled of antiseptic and body fluids. The hue looked like white had been bleached so often the shiny veneer turned dull grey. The toll exacted quelled all humanity. Rich and poor, man or woman, young or old, righteous or wronged, all of them came in with sirens wailing and flattened under the adversity.

Thrust into fleeting importance was a man already at the hospital. He was above thug status, but not polished enough to be considered a hit man. He was sitting there minding his own business, waiting indifferently to see if his associate lived or died when his insider view thrust him into his role.

He saw and heard enough. Peter was an ex con who lived the code of respect. Unlike the outside world where respect was earned, street cred demanded respect first, and then watched to see if you were man enough to keep it.

He didn't like what he witnessed. Code of the family said if you got shoved, you shoved back harder. When someone started something, you finished it. But the rules also said you don't fight in front of daughters and mothers and especially in front of cops that were wound a little too tight. The rules got a little murky to the obedient enforcer, so he reported back to Sal.

Sal Tenor was all kinds of pissed off. Peter's problem was to make sure he wasn't pissed at him. Common wisdom may advise against shooting the messenger, but mobsters like to blow off steam and their impulse control was questionable. One time Sal "The Temper" Tenor sent his guy after a schmuck who skipped out without paying his restaurant check. The bodyguard hauled the guy back and after the appropriate apology and restitution, then was sent on his way. Unfortunately the enforcer returned to his post smelling of sweat and interrupted the enjoyment of Tenor's meal. He hauled him into the kitchen, used a pressure washer on the sweaty man, and returned to his table for dessert. Sal loved the gelato. The bodyguard was black and blue all over his body for a solid week.

So Sal's threats to Peter were taken seriously. "Don't you ever question his balls! He chases murders for fun - without a gun - all to impress his girl. Richard Castle is a class act."

Pete was on thin ice for suggesting Castle should have decked the doctor who shoved him. Trying to put some distance between his slip of the tongue and the anger brewing, Peter asked for a repeat: "How did you meet this writer again?"

Sal loved telling this story. "Mr. Suit walks into the bar, buys a round for everyone. We're all eyein' each other wondering what the hell? Meanwhile he chats up the bartender 'cause that's the only one who'll talk to 'im. Explains who Derrick Storm is, leaves a few paperback copies around, and leaves. The guy came by next week, repeated the round of drinks, and told the best damn stories to the barkeep so that we couldn't help but laugh. He came by the following week only to find a crowd had doubled in size. Without a blink he buys a round for all the boys, shoots some pool and leaves. The following week, not only are all the boys there, but all their girlfriends came along. Now the guy really shines. He buys the drinks but what really gets us is how he charms our ladies. Now that takes balls! When big bruiser looks down on him and tells him to 'watch it' he smiled at him.

"So what does Mr. Brilliant do? Shakes Bruiser's hand, and thanks him for talking to him. Then he sits the guy down, buys him another drink, and explains he just wants to get it right. Starts yakking with him about being an enforcer, if he'd use steak or frozen peas as a cold pack, whether he'd take his high school football ring off before he'd beat a guy, shit like that!"

"Bruce sat there dumbfounded and answered all his questions. I finally pulled the doofus away, the writer not Bruiser - nobody pulls Bruiser away from anywhere he don't want to go, and tried to scare some sense into the guy. He listens respectfully to my threats and says, 'The easiest way to make me go away is to talk to me.'"

"Promises to be careful about how he uses the info, never asked anything too pointed or incriminating, and is so damned happy about hearing what I got to say that I couldn't help but like the guy."

"He came 'round a few more times to check on some details for his character. Always bought drinks for the boys. Made a point of shaking hands and looking them in the eye. Think that's the last you're gonna hear from him? Nope. He comes around a year later with copies of the new book. Gives them to anyone who wants one. Even signed a copy for me. That man didn't forget how he got to where he is and I ain't going to forget him."

Sal chose not to make too much of the lady detective. That was too far above Peter's understanding. "What you need to know is that his woman is a straight arrow - we got no beef with her. I want to know why she was shot, who did it, and if they are coming back. Leave the pushy surgeon to me. Damn asshole!"

Lines blurred that day. Nikki Heat and Kate Beckett were both shot. Each one had an impact in very different circles on very different people.

ReTweet: #WriteRCastle left the hospital- #NikkiHeat must have died!

Facebook: Some Dr. flew into a jealous rage and got into a fight with Richard Castle. The nurse said they posted uniformed officers at her door to keep them apart!

Author's Note: Sorry, but the 'at' symbol won't appear so I used # with the tweets. The Twitter and Facebook posts are intentionally a mix of false information and half truths. For story purposes, assume #WriterRCastle and #NikkiHeat are officially controlled by Castle's people, but the things written about them comes from people not in the inner circle of Castle and Beckett's lives.

The mobster is from episode 1.10