Title: Baby Steps

Author: LogicBomb.32

Ships: Casket

Summary: I am Kate Beckett's secret. No, not that one, god, everyone cares about that one. I'm the other one.

Authors Note: Hey, this idea came to me as I was going to sleep a few nights ago and, well, I decided to give it a go. Let me tell you, writing from this particular point of view is harder than one would think. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If I owned Castle, well, I wouldn't change anything I would be letting the writers do their thaaang.


I am Kate Beckett's secret.

No, not that one, god, everyone cares about that one. I'm the other one. The one that is so much cooler than "I remember everything." Debatable as that probably is, I don't care, why? Because I'm a Bombay-German Rex cross (I am cat people, don't even think about Googling that stuff) who can confidently say that I know more about Kate Beckett than all of you combined. And you know what, to prove my point we can even toss Castle into the mix. That's right, I went there.

And came back.

For example my Kate is a sucker for Titanic, reduced to tears each time she watches it. Although if you asked me there was more than enough room on that plank for Mr. Dicaprio… but I digress.

Kate also enjoys a good run, not something that is life altering but did I mention that she goes running at obscene hours of the day and night? And I can protest, boy can I protest but she simply reaches down, and rubs that one spot behind my ear that reduces me to a purring black beast. However it's not the rubbing behind the ear that get's me it's the gentle whisper of "Hold down the fort for me Dex."

She says it every time she leaves, sometimes an urgent call back to me as she flies out the door or other times a low whisper as she drags herself reluctantly out of the apartment. But every time she does I give the same response, I meet her somber gaze and blink, twice. And, if she's near I'll rub my head into her leg, or hand, or the most accessible body part. I like to think that it gives her the same comfort it gives me, the comfort of her unyielding love and affection for me as she heads out to face a world I can only catch glimpses of.

And from those glimpses I think I'll stay inside for the rest of my days.

It seems to be a cruel, twisted world, the one that my Kate goes out into. Leaving her riddled with nightmares and scars, not that anyone could tell…well almost no one can tell. There is the exception, the most infuriating man on the entire planet, although he hardly deserves to be called a man, more like a man-child. Richard Castle.

He first came into our lives roughly a year after Kate found me-a story that is charming to tell but hardly the point- and I remember both the first time I heard of this stranger and the first time we met. The first time I heard of him (and thus the first time he came into our lives) was quite a few years before I actually met the man. His books had forced me to misjudge my jump from the shelves to the bedside table and I landed on my feet, this giant hardcover book coming down towards me.

I barely escaped with my life.

Nevertheless that was the first time that I heard of Richard Castle. When Kate had come to investigate the source of all the commotion and seeing me hissing vehemently at this intruder of what was commonly known as my space. My space, and she had the nerve to scowl at me for clawing into her dear Storm's Break book…needless to say I was not a fan of this man.

Our first meeting did nothing to help his cause, at all.

As tired as I am, my need to see my Kate home safe and sound is overwhelming, draining, but overwhelming. However, this time, as I stand up and stretch, I pause halfway through what you would call a downward dog pose and peer at the doorway, curious. My Kate doesn't generally bring someone home, with the exception of Lanie on the rare occasion. However judging on the timbre, this was not Lanie.

"You didn't have to walk me home Castle, I'm a big girl."

Castle…Castle…that name…And then I remember, a low hiss settling in the base of my throat and my claws dig into the carpet instinctively. I do not like this man. However I am curious, and no matter how perilous it might be to my health, I must see what this man looks like.

Hold on.

That story gets better, but before I continue it is important for me to clarify something. Richard Castle saved my Kate's life. And as much as I hate to admit it (and believe me it pains me dearly to do so) he provided for Kate one of the few things that I could not.

An escape.

From the world that had left her motherless and struggling to deal with the loss, his books, his characters, had somehow saved her. I may not understand it but honestly I don't care, he kept my Kate with me when there were times I didn't think it was possible. His books dragged her through the nights when her eyes were captivated by the barrel of a gun. His twisting plots let her mind go, let it work when her mothers case had run her into the ground, I remember fondly her shouts of triumph when she figured out who the killer was before the book was over. And for all of this, I should like him.

But I can't.

Kind of.

His stupid book almost killed me.

Or at the very least made me break my perfect record of successful jumps inside the apartment.

Anyway

I jump down from the table, landing on the carpet and making my way to the vantage point of top of the shelves. It's late and my stomach is demanding more than I've been provided with, something that Miranda from across the hall wouldn't know. Only my Kate can tell.

He's tall, but from my point of view most people are, with brown hair and a face that practically screams 'I'm a player!' His eyes, it's his eyes that really catch me though, and for a moment I can understand why my Kate is practically ignoring me (and yes I know that I'm on top of shelves but I know my Kate knows I'm there. How? Because I see her right hand twitching as she fights the urge to greet me). I can almost understand, but I don't appreciate being ignored.

However, before I can make myself visible to Castle she's saying goody-bye and the door is being closed. But all is not right with the world, she's done with a case, another bad guy is behind bars, and yet she's broken. It's a harsh word but as soon as the door closes she lets out this long sigh, a frustrated sigh.

A sigh that I've come to realize is the 'Castle-is-frustrating' sigh, one that is often heard in this apartment and I assume out in the world as well. But my Kate, as much as I love her, is a bit of an idiot. And by idiot I am referring to her other secret. The one that all of you cared more about, that is until you met me.

I remember when I was informed of Kate getting shot, that day still gives me the shivers.

I was worried, it had been two days and I hadn't even seen a glimpse of my Kate, not even a phone call. So when I heard the door opening, I immediately hide, I was going to sulk and hide until I felt that Kate was sorry enough. But it took only a few seconds for me to realize that this was not my Kate.

It was….Castle.

I did not appreciate him breaking into our home like this, but I was rather hungry. So, from my hiding spot I watched as Castle walked into out apartment, setting something down on the table and not moving "I know you're here kitty."

Kitty? Seriously?

"She thinks she slick, not telling anyone about you but between the amount of cat hair on her clothes and those phone calls, it was either a pet or a very hairy child."

Very hairy child, I think I'm insulted. I decided that making myself visible is probably wise and so I jump down from the shelves right in front of Castle. He jumps and lets out a girlish squeak and I let out a satisfied hiss, he needs to know his place. Besides intruder that is.

I stare up at him, our gazes meeting and, well, nothing transpired, no sudden meaning of his visit came to mind, no glorious moment of forgiveness and sudden friendship, nothing like that. All I got from that gaze was that he had been crying, or close to it, but where was my Kate!

"I got some bad news." He said, reaching into the bag he had set down on the table and pulling out a bag of cat food.

Uh-oh, bad news? I don't like bad news.

"Your mommy's been shot."

I was floored. I was panicking. I was freaking out. I was, breathing, calming myself down before I had a panic attack. I look up at him, he'd better give me some more damn answers.

"A sniper." He says, also pulling out two bowls from the bag, one green and one red, and pours some of the cat food into the red bowl "It's for you." He says, placing the bowl down and moving over to the sink where he fills the green bowl with water and also sets it in front of me.

I hesitate for a moment, my mind no occupied with visions of my Kate bleeding out on some floor, in some ditch somewhere. I mean I knew that things had been off recently, she was emotional and the nightmares had come back, but this, getting shot…..I suddenly wasn't hungry anymore.

And not to mention that Castle was neglecting to tell me the most crucial part of the story, WAS MY KATE ALIVE? But it seemed wrong at this moment to bother him, he was standing by the table, looking around the apartment taking an unaccompanied glance into the private world of Kate Beckett, but his mind was elsewhere, he wasn't really seeing it at all.

Still makes me choke up.

So, days later, I could not tell you how thrilled I was to see Kate walk through that front door. But it didn't take long for me to realize that it wasn't my Kate, this Kate was different, she was, and I hesitate to use this word, but she was broken. Broken but not looking for help. Thinking she could get thrgouh this one her own, but she doesn't understand that getting help isn't a sign of weakness but a sign of ones strength. It killed me (and sometimes still does), watching her struggle with getting shot, with the PTSD, with knowing her attempted killer is still out there, with what Castle had told as she bled out

"He loves me Dex." She whispers suddenly, one hand holding a glass of wine, the other absentmindedly stroking my back.

I turn to look up at her, not at all surprised really, but to hear it coming from her lips, that was surprising "But I lied to him." She continues, "I told him I don't remember anything about" there is a hitch in her voice before she continues, "about the day I got shot."

And as far as I now he still thinks she's clueless about what he told her that day, when in fact she is far from it.

Far. Far. From it.

But what do I know, I am only a cat, granted being Kate Beckett's cat gives me a little bit more street cred but… someone's home!

"Dex!"

Oops, that my Kate, gotta run, she just got home.

"Dex? You named your cat Dex?"

Hold up, it can't be? "Shut it Castle, I asked you here to help me look over the case, not criticize the name of my cat."

"Just to look over the case huh?" he asks, leaning over to her.

It so adorable it's going to make me puke, him smiling at her and her smiling at him and she pushes him away half heartedly with one arm. It's not the make out session I've been hoping for, not the sex that you all probably want, but needless to say…Baby steps Kate, baby steps.


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