I am just an amateur writer trying my hand, and do not own any of the characters mentioned below. Thanks for reading.

"Why aren't you out with Writer-Boy?" Lanie had asked. "How bad could it be?" Ironic, thought Kate Beckett, that at just that moment Writer-Boy himself had called—about a date with a prostitute. Was that supposed to be a warning from the relationship-gods? A bad omen? A red flag? She wasn't superstitious though; just smart. Too smart to fall for the likes of Richard Castle.

To be fair, of course, he hadn't actually gone through with the date. Not in the strict sense. In fact, he had invited Beckett along to do a 'Q & A'. Kate shook her head as she drove, caught up in her thoughts. He'd seemed a bit too comfortable even setting the thing up! But then, that was Rick Castle. He was nothing if not bold and audacious.

She had to admit though, after some months of knowing him: Castle was deeper than he let on. Despite his antics, wise-cracks, flirtations and police record, he was actually a good guy at his core. It was most obvious in his relationship with his daughter. There was no denying he had done a lot right there. It had also become obvious in the everyday interactions Kate had seen as well. Castle had a generous heart and a sensitivity to the need of the moment that was undeniable—if unnerving at times. He would slip back into wise-ass mode in the blink of an eye, but she had seen that there was more to him.

As she drove her usual early-morning route to the precinct, Kate wondered again whether it was apparent to anyone else that she was now mostly just pretending to be annoyed by Castle. Oh, at first the feeling had been genuine. Rick Castle had manipulated his way into her space!—into the well-oiled machine she had called her life. Kate Beckett was used to being 'large and in-charge.' No-nonsense. The Boss. Sure, she knew men found her attractive, but they rarely dared to pursue a relationship with her… much less try to get under her skin!

Richard Castle, on the other hand, had made quite the grand entrance. He'd come directly from her favorite-writer fantasies right into her life and under her skin, complete with cocky grin and an unbelievably enormous ego. That first conversation in the interrogation room when he'd batted his eyes at her and said, "I'd be happy to let you spank me," she had thought he was the most despicable man she had ever met. Was this honestly how he interacted with women?--even a cop asking him about a real murder? It had been a huge disappointment to think that perhaps his bad-boy reputation was not simply exaggerated for the sake of publicity. Yes, the disgust she'd felt then had been very real and she had not tried to hide it.

However several other emotions, she recalled, had quickly followed that first one. Such as dismay when he'd called her out as a hard-core Castle groupie! Everything in her had tensed: this man could not know the extent to which that was true, or there would be no way to command his respect. But that comment about her 'gorgeous' eyes… she had not seen that coming, and had been reduced to a blushing, stammering idiot for a moment. This had only fed the flames of her anger toward him and toward herself.

All along the anger had been double-edged, she knew now. She had been angry at him for butting in, for being so full of himself. Had been angry at herself for caring that he was arrogant, for feeling her heart skip a beat when he looked at her, for being unable to keep her cool, competent façade up at all times.

She had hit the wall during that first case with him, when a simple kiss on the cheek had sent her heart racing and her brain into a complete shutdown. 'But I came back swinging!' she thought to herself. Had pulled it together, had hauled his ass into jail for stealing evidence, and after all was said and done had caught the murderer as well. And when Castle had ever-so-smoothly invited her to dinner that night, she dismissed him cold. No, not cold—she had toyed with him a bit. "Too bad," he had said, "it would've been great." And she had leaned in close and lingered for a moment before purring in his ear, "You have no idea." Then turned walked away without a backward glance, feeling his eyes on her the entire distance to her car. She had exalted in the fact that Richard Castle would remember Kate Beckett as the woman who had resisted his charm.

Kate smiled a little, turning off the freeway onto her exit. She had sown the seeds of her own destruction…to put it all in particularly dramatic terms. Her intent that night had been to throw some flirtation back in Castle's face, and then to never see him again. But he had outmaneuvered her. The shock of it had hit her on so many different levels that next morning in the captain's office, her heart had nearly dropped to her feet. He was back. And going to be doing research—on her.

Her emotions started swirling again then—anger, attraction, fear, excitement—and they had not settled down since. That was when her life had taken this most unpredictable turn. An irresistible force meeting an immovable object. Richard Castle, meet Kate Beckett. This ride was nowhere near over, she thought as she parked her car. It was just beginning.