Disclaimer: Castle is not mine.

a/n: WARNING THIS IS AU MEETING AND A DARKER TELLING OF IT: if you don't normally like them, then you probably won't like this one. I'm fine with it not being your cup of tea. People have different tastes, it's normal.

That being said: I will only update this every two weeks because I'm starting a degree program Monday. This is already prewritten (17 chapters of it anyway) and I want to stretch those out so it's not interfering with my school time or any of my writing days. It's something I can post when I don't have time to write for anything else.

Their ages have been played with. Not much. This first chapter asks more questions than answers them but everything does get explained.

I never intended to post this. It was just me trying out something a little different. Then I started sending it to a few select people and now two years after writing the majority of it, I'm finally posting. Also I should say now that I don't tolerate anon hate and you will be deleted because you're irrelevant to my life and my writing. ENJOY.

How he ended up in a place such as this was no mystery. Research. He used the excuse religiously but it was the truth. He didn't frequent establishments like the one he'd just entered. Not his taste. With the music obscene, the dirty beat of it perfect for the scent of alcohol and sweat that wafted through the hazy air.

This was exactly what he'd been looking for. Something down and a just few shades shy from raunchy. His eyes caught on the stage, bare flesh flashing but he wasn't actually here for the entertainment. No. He was here for the underbelly of it. The behind the scenes, off the stage, background. That was what he needed.

He roamed through the tables, eyed the men ogling. Some women just as interested in the girl shedding her clothes. He ignored it for the most part – not that he was above sneaking a peek or two. He was a man after all and his eyes tended to just follow the sway of hips and scantily clad women.

He wasn't going to get distracted though. He'd watch part of the show, just to get a feel for the place. He already knew it wasn't a classy joint and that was why he'd picked it. The flashing neon signs in the blacked out windows had drawn him in. He just needed to find someone to talk to – one of the girls maybe or even the owner.

He'd already made the man standing off to the side of the stage as a manager. He had to be. He wasn't watching the woman wiggling around in her underwear and tattered pantyhose. He was watching the crowd, the men tossing obscenities and wads of cash. Interested in the business.

That had to be him. But Richard Castle did not rush things. He'd wait. Stick around, order a beer or two. He picked a table in the back, better to observe and resist the urge to punch the loud burly man in the front. The one he knew probably smelled of liquor and body odor. It bothered him that the guy pawed at the girl dancing every time she dipped down to let him slip the money in between her breasts.

Even in the back, he saw the disgust on her face. And then the relief when the song ended and she sauntered off the stage. Research. Just one more in the name of research. Plus the beer he'd signaled for hadn't arrived yet.

He expected another woman to come out when the music started and he wasn't disappointed. But he barely paid attention. He was scanning again, eyes searching for something and he caught it. A couple men talking to the one he'd pegged as manager. They'd lean in, pass something to him. Drugs maybe. He wasn't here to get mixed up in illegals.

At this point, he turned back to the stage, just in time to see the light hit some ridiculous stilettos clicking with each step the woman took and a leather skirt that drew attention to her crotch. Just another stripper. The song wasn't what he'd expected, something that made him smirk and wonder if she chose it.

But then he got distracted by the length of her legs, the power in her body. She didn't move like the other one. The one he'd seen before. No, this one was graceful. Even when she pulled the skirt from her hips, kicked it away with her heel, she didn't belong here. He'd bet money that she did not belong.

He was entranced with the sway of those hips. The round cheeks of her ass bared to him by a simple black lace thong and yet that's not what had his blood pumping. It was when she whipped back around, hair long and tousled around her face, her eyes locked on his. He didn't see a woman, didn't see an object to be possessed or someone to paw at and shove singles towards. He saw a little girl. He wasn't even sure she was old enough to be in such a place. Those eyes were wounded and hating every second of what she was doing.

She jerked her gaze away, as if she knew that he'd seen something he shouldn't. She pulled her shirt off on the next beat, tossed it at one of the men already waving paper at her. Her smile was fake and he shifted uncomfortably when she gathered her hair in her hands, rocked her hips from left to right. A slow sensual descent until she was on her knees. He tried not to look, tried not to notice the way her breasts almost spilled from the siren red of her bra when her palms met the stage, tried to tell himself she was a dancer in a sleazy strip joint. It would've worked if he hadn't seen those eyes. If he didn't know she was miserable, disgusted by the hands that slid money in her panties when she crawled by, prowling like a cat in heat.

The men loved her. Roared for her when she shot up to her knees, hair cascading down her back when she arched. The red painted lips and smokey eyes deceived them but not him. He saw her. And he wanted the story.

The sound of a glass hitting the wood of his table startled him, made him look up at the waitress and he knew she was the woman he'd seen mostly naked just minutes ago.

"Thanks." He handed her enough to cover it and a generous tip.

"No problem, sugar. Anything else?"

"Uh, the girl dancing, what's her name?"

"Krissy. You want a lap dance from her?" He knew he should say no but he gave a sharp nod. "She usually won't do them, very picky but I'd be more than happy -"

"Her. I want her." Didn't even ask how much it would cost him before she walked away in a huff, clearly upset that he'd turned her down. It didn't matter because he wasn't going to let Krissy do it either. There was a line he wasn't crossing.

But he had to talk to her. He needed the story. What haunted her and why she was here when she clearly found it so degrading? She could be his ticket. His source of information on what went on behind the scenes. He just had to get her talking.

He watched her, more closely than he should have. Not as lewdly as the rest of the crowd but his eyes wandered, took in the strength in her thighs, groaned just a little when she turned her back. He'd keep it to himself when he spoke to her but her ass was perfect. And he felt like a pervert.

He dropped his gaze, fiddled with his beer before he took a long swig. He sucked it down eagerly, hoped to cool himself down. It worked. Or maybe what worked was the fact that she was gone when he looked back up. His interest was lost on anything but her as he searched for her, caught a glimpse over by the side door.

Watched as she talked to the man he'd pegged as 'in charge'. Her head shook as if she were saying 'no', her lips moving fast in argument. His fists tightened when the man grabbed her arm and spun her around but then he was being pointed at, caught staring and apparently the topic of their disagreement.

She closed her eyes, her shoulders slumped in defeat but only a brief second and then he watched the fake smile spread over her lips. He stopped looking, stared down at his beer because he knew she'd be by his side in only minutes.

Took half of one, maybe, and he could smell her perfume. Something sickeningly sweet that made his nose itch.

"Here's the deal: no touching, five minutes, fifty dollars." Her voice made him jump, startled by it. The low sultry tone that made him wonder if it was another layer to her facade but it fit her, oddly enough.

"Fifty?" His eyes skipped over her body, ignored all the skin on display to catch on her eyes. "That's a bit steep for you to sit in my lap isn't it?"

She said nothing, her lips thinned and he caught the way she bit at the inside of her mouth. He raised his hands in surrender, waved the white flag. She wasn't at all what he'd been looking for and that was either going to work in his favor or against him.

"I'll give you a hundred if you stay off my lap and just make yourself comfortable." He gestured to the chair. Tried to be gentlemanly enough to not stare when she cocked her hip. It was impossible with her so close and his eyes level with the expanse of her bared middle. "Please."

"Vincent won't like it."

"Ah, that the boss?" He expected her to blow it off, wasn't disappointed when she shrugged a shoulder. But she still wasn't sitting. "Just sit. I'm paying you."

He bit his tongue, saw the flash in her eyes and knew he'd made a mistake.

"I'm not an object to be bought."

"That's not what I meant. Maybe we could go somewhere else?" He just wanted to talk, was even keeping his eyes above her neckline. Sainthood should be awarded for such a feat when a fire engine red bra and black lace were the only things covering her.

She was spooked, wary, her eyes searching around quickly as if waiting for something to happen. And then she was shaking her head, hair falling in her face.

"I don't do that, okay? Maybe ask for Sapphire."

He blinked at her, brow scrunched, confused and then it caught up with him. His words. The way he'd presented them. He was screwing this up.

"No. I want you." Even as he'd said it, he'd cursed himself. Moron. He was a moron.

"You think you can buy me? Throw some money at me and I'll do anything you want? Expect me to just ask what would you like, a quick fuck in the bathroom or maybe just a blow job?" She was flaming. Her cheeks pink and her eyes full of fire. He had less than two seconds to fix it.

"No, no just listen." He reached for her wrist, tried to use it to keep her from walking off but she pulled it back before he could touch her. "Look, I know you hate this. You hate this place."

"You don't know anything about me. I'm not going anywhere with you, fuck off." She'd already turned her back and he slammed his eyes shut. Spat out the words in a rush to make her stay.

"Your name isn't Krissy, you hate that you're taking your clothes off for money, you hate standing there now in next to nothing." She stopped but didn't turn back and he wished she would. Didn't want to be tempted to let his gaze travel south. "You don't agree to lap dances, argued with your boss about it but I'm guessing I'm a bit wealthier than most in here and he didn't give you much of a choice. I'm not trying to buy you for anything but I wasn't lying."

"I don't believe you."

"Sit, talk to me and I'll give you a hundred. It doesn't have to be here but I'm not wanting anything more than conversation." She looked at the chair this time when he gestured but bit her lip and he wanted to shake her. Tell her not to do that when she was so scantily clad. It took a moment and then he knew.

She didn't want to sit when she was barely wearing anything. Without a word, he shrugged out of his jacket and offered it as a peace treaty. She stared at it, long seconds passed and finally with cautious fingers, she pulled it from his hand and slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"You've got five minutes before Vincent notices I'm not gyrating in your lap."

"You always this full of snark?" Her glare was reply enough. "Right. Okay, what's your name?"

"Krissy."

"No it's not."

"Well that's the one you're getting." Her rude tone was enough to have him smiling but then she leaned forward, elbows on the table and he was once again stunned by her face. The youthfulness behind the heavy black lining her eyes and the painted lips.

"Guess it would be pointless to ask how old you are."

"Old enough. Why are you asking this stuff?" Something told him she wasn't quite old enough to be working in a place serving hard liquor but he didn't call her on it.

"Just research."

"Are you one of those guys that gets off on this kinda thing? Just lonely? You're good looking enough I'm sure you can go find someone to chat with." Curiosity was on his side, she was watching him, frowning and then she took the bait. "How'd you know I hate it?"

"Your eyes."

"My eyes? What is this, a bad pick up line?"

"No. Just honesty. You hide it well but I saw the brief moment of panic and disgust. Something makes you do this, there's a reason you're here." He lifted his beer, drank slowly as he watched her fidget and pick at the sleeves of his jacket.

"You don't know me."

"You're right, I don't. But I know you don't belong here." He hit the nail on the head. Heard her quick intake of breath and caught the way she tried to hide it with a disinterested sigh.

"Pays nice. Speaking of, how 'bout you pay me so I can get home? My shift is over."

"Okay." Her eyes widened when he reached for his wallet. She hadn't thought he was serious? Well that was interesting. He wouldn't push it. He'd be back and he'd get the story but he had to let her go. Earn her trust. So he gave her the money, told her to keep the jacket as he stood up and then he walked away and left her sitting alone.

She was still staring at the cash when he glanced back.