Hey, Guys! Inspiration hit me once again as I was thinking of an old Bones episode that I watched a LONG time ago! I thought it would be perfect for a Castle and Beckett scene as well! Now, i'm not sure about my other story "Bad News" But, i'm not exactly where I'm going with that, so if you guys have any suggestions or anything you guys would want to see happen, please feel free to IM me or email me at ""

Thanks :)

ENJOY!

"Castle, security is tight enough as it is outside of here. You don t have to be here." Beckett sighed, running her hand through her hair, the strands running down to settle upon her shoulders gracefully as she stood in front of the petulant man as he sat upon her couch, unwilling to move.

Standing up, Castle awarded himself with height as he towered over her, easily gaining a few more inches since she didn t have her heels on.

"Trust me, okay? This is for the best. Now," he clapped his hands together, "Where s the TV?"

"Uhm, I had one, but it broke." Castle raised his eyebrows doubtfully at her as she paused. "I mostly just read...and listen to music."

"So let's listen to some music! What are you waiting for?" Castle smiled widely, causing the tired woman to allow a small smile grace her features, shaking her head slightly as she watched the man walk towards her stereo system.

Castle bounced slightly as he made his way to her stereo, his excitement rising as he saw the vast amount of music she had lined up in two rows. Running his hand through the titles, his excitement visibly faded as he saw most of her choices in music.

"Ah...World music...There's a shock..." Beckett rolled her eyes from behind him, wrapping her slender arms around her waist as he looked through her music. "Kayne West, Lady Power...Oh! Oh, alright! Look at this! Lots of jazz! Wow. I think all that free-form stuff can be too unpredictable for me."

She sighed at his obvious sarcasm, "It's peaceful to listen to after a hard case, okay? The artist has to live within a set tonal structure and has to trust his own instincts to find his way out of an infinite maze of possibilities. Like all the great ones do."

Hearing no reply, she turned towards him once again, and tensing slightly as she found herself a bit too close for comfort. Looking up at him from her short stature, her brow rose as she saw a smile on his face. Not a grin, or a smirk, but a smile.

"What?"

"No...nothing. Just never expected you to -"

"What? Love music? Well, I usually don t talk about it...to anyone."

"Well, thank you. It's nice to know stuff like this about you. To know that there's more than just Detective Beckett. To know that...there's a Kate in there."

Beckett leaned closer to him, a smirk gracing her features. "Thats the same person, Castle."

"No, It's not," Castle smiled, "Detective Beckett is a hard-ass, no messing around cop that gets it done. Now, Kate, she's a different story all together. She's the scarred, somewhat afraid young woman that thinks that she has to tough it out alone in the world, when she doesn't. Kate is a beautiful, intelligent, savvy, young woman who follows her dreams and - Woah! What's this!"

Beckett was shaken abruptly out of the somewhat mature and deep moment by Castle getting distracted as his eyes laid upon a particular CD that she had hidden within her world music discs. With his height advantage, Beckett wasn't able to see the disc over his shoulder, but by the smirk upon his face and the twinkle in his eye, she grimaced, realizing what disc it had to be.

"Uhh..." Beckett bit her lip and shut her eyes as Foreigner's "Cold Blooded" rang through the room, the man beside her reaching out and playing air-guitar over dramatically as he looked over at her. "How did that get there?"

"Oh, Please! Beckett, everyone loves foreigner! Talk about a guilty pleasure!" Beckett admired, if you can say that, from behind as she watched the man-child, that was her best friend, rock out to the beginning guitar riffs of one of her favorite songs.

Beginning to rock slightly on her heels, she smiled amusingly as Castle raised his voice a few octaves to match the lead singer as the first few lines of the song blared out.

"Well I'm, Hot Blooded! Check it and see!"

She kicked into the air and began rocking along side of him as he said, "Check it, baby!"

They began rocking along and jumping to it, and during the bridge of the song, she heard her phone going off and she, reluctantly, moved away and answered it.

"Hi...Josh, yea, I'm still on lock-down until the crimes are solved...yea, I'm at my loft now...Oh, that's just the music...That ' Castle...The writer?...Yea, he's with me right now...yea...no...Aren't you busy?...yea, well...Bye."

Beckett hung up, rubbing her face with her hand, now just noticing that the music was shut off. Turning around, she saw that Castle stood quietly, rocking slightly upon his heels, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking somewhat guilty at what had just transpired between her and Josh.

Not knowing what else to do, she stuck her own hands in her pockets and stared at his feet, not allowing her eyes to go to his, scared of what she might see.

"Uh...you got any water? Soda?" His eyes looked hopeful as he attempted to change the subject.

"Yea, uhm, in my fridge. I'll go get it." She could barely get it all out before he interupted her.

"No! I'll get it. I'm not your guest, you don't have to wait on me." He clapped his hands. "You want anything?"

"Just a water bottle, thanks."

Turning around to her stereo, she looked for some more appropriate music as she heard his steps as he made his way into her kitchen. Beckett was thankful for the change in subject because she really didn t want to talk about the short fight with Josh that she just had.

Her thoughts were interrupted however, when right after Castle asked her something, a loud boom erupted from his place. Turning around, she only caught glimpse of her partner flying backwards into her kitchen island, his back making a sickening crack sound as it hit the edge and sent him flying to the side of it. The fridge door, still clasped it his hand, landing on it as flames covered the other side of it as well as the rest of the fridge.

Thinking quickly, both her and the guard at the door barged into the kitchen and ran for help. Beckett ran towards the man on the ground, throwing the extremely hot door off of him and covering him with the rug on the ground that laid beside him, patting the slight flames off of his chest.

"Castle! Castle, can you hear me? Castle, come on. Come on!" The detective chanted as the guard quickly called for back up and an ambulance up to her floor. She made no notice of his erratic movement behind her as she attempted to wake him up. Grimacing from the large laceration upon his temple, she wiped it off softly with her sleeve and patted his cheek slightly as she paused there, her other hand checking for his pulse.

"Come on, Castle. Wake up. You don t get to do this."

*************Caskett**************

Two hands clasped together, one limp in the others hand. One teary, while the other laid emotionless upon a hospital bed. The two were none other than Detective Kate Beckett and Writer Richard Castle. The bomb in her fridge was set off by the door being opened and the bomb was obviously meant for her. It was meant to kill or critically injure her, not him. No, it was never him. No one would want to hurt the famous Richard Castle. Unless you were a really deranged fan, angry at him for killing off Derrick Storm. But no. Any bullet put into his way, any bomb, any sealed tight freezer, or any deranged maniac, was for her. Not him, it was never him. But every single time, she managed to get away Scott-free. And what did he get? He got injured, or at least scarred in some way, whether emotionally or physically. Castle never signed up for this. He never went through the training or the induction. Never got a badge, nor a certificate saying that he was a detective. No. He was just a civilian who saved lives without a second look at the consequences. More than one, had that civilian been herself, and looking back at it, she realized that she had never told him thank you for saving her life. It had always been thanks for having my back. Now, he laid upon the ruthless white bed, his torso uncovered due to the need for extensive bandages and wraps, his muscular arm within a sling. Bruises mercilessly decorated his torso, surely to turn his once tan skin, into a mirage of yellow, purple, and black.

She couldn t help but feel guilty. It should be her and not him. It was never supposed to be him.

Thanks for reading guys! And as always, criticisms, love, and hate are all welcome and ENCOURAGED!

So please do!

Thanks!

-Lona