I'm back, ladies and gentlemen. Briefly, but back nonetheless. I had this little idea pop into my head when this song came onto my iPhone on shuffle in the car last night. I do apologize for not updating 'Assassin's Ball' or 'Charter' in such a long time, but I've been throwing everything I have into the P90X2 workout system (for those of you who have never tried this, and you want to physically challenge yourself, I highly suggest it) and work. So I'm going to try my best to get those kick started when I have time.

You guys are the greatest readers in the world, and I love you all! So, couple things about this fic, it is AU for the most part. Still our favorite characters, just a few tweeks I made. Kate and Rick have been friends since high school, and they both met while living with their parents in Boston, Mass. Sorry Yankees fans, *cough* Sam *cough*, I love the Red Sox with every ounce of my being, so I had to make them Sox fans. Alexis doesn't exsist, and Johanna never died...I think that's it.

Disclaimer: Castle and all of it's characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe and ABC Productions. "My Kind of Crazy" belongs to Brantley Gilbert.

She says, "Look, baby, I'm a rockstar" and grabs my old guitar,

Playin' it upside down, dancin' around in front of our TV.

I can't see the ball game, so I just wave my lighter and say,

"Yeah, rock on baby. I'd rather watch you anyway.

But when you're done, can I come backstage and get you to sign your name

on that Zepplin shirt of mine you're wearin'? I'll never wash that thing again."

Yeah, and she's my kinda crazy, the little games she plays,

Lord they never get old. She's too cute to get on my last nerve.

The way she throws her little fits,

Pokin' out her lip and biting mine when we kiss, there aint' a fight she can't win.

That's my baby, and she's my kinda crazy.

"Come on! Damn it!" Rick scowled at the televsion screen angrily. The Red Sox were down by a run in the ninth inning of the last game in the World Series. Truth be told living in New York City, it was damned near sacreligious to root for the Sox, but he'd lived in Boston for quite a while when his mother was working on an off-broadway musical, and his neighbor, Kate, had gotten him into the habit of collapsing on her couch, and watching the Sox play. He still smirked at the thought of them all those years ago.

Both of their parents were almost always at work, so the two teenagers had looked out for each other. From making sure that the other one was prepared for the Algerba test at school the next day, to Rick giving Kate a ride to and from school every morning in his bulky old Chevy pick-up truck. They were best friends, never one without the other. They were Kate & Rick, partners in crime. And neither of them would change that for the world.

The first time they'd had kissed had been an accident. Rick had been attempting to avoid "Iron Gates", a terrifying girl in their class that had an unfortunate crush on him. He had spun Kate away from where she was talking to her best friend, Lanie Parish, and pressed her into the wall of lockers behind them. The progression of his lips falling onto hers was so natural that he had been powerless to stop it. The fireworks behind his eyelids when she sighed and melted into the kiss, had nearly stopped his heart dead in its tracks. He hadn't realized how long he had been avoiding doing this, and had been holding himself back from the tidal wave of emotion that was crashing over him.

Their tongues had begun to battle almost immediately, shocking both of them. The small groan that had involuntarily torn from her throat had only spurred him on more. When the pair reluctantly pulled apart, hazy green met electrified blue for the briefest fleeting moment before Kate was being torn away by an incesantly chattering Lanie. Rick stood, dumbfounded, for a moment, his two friends, Ryan and Esposito, staring at him, their mouths agape.

He didn't even bother to acknowledge them and, instead, chose to bolt down the hallway after Kate.

He was out of breath when he was finally able to pry her from Lanie's death grip and dragged her to the football field announcer's booth. Kate watched him curiously as he paced, his hands running through his wild brown hair.

"You mind explaining?" She finally whispered.

"Just as soon as I figure it out." Rick said with a sad, confused laugh. "That was supposed to be a way to get me out of talking to Gates. I hadn't intended on kissing you."

"Oh, so, kissing me is this awful thing?" She scoffed, her hands going to her hips. He mentally kicked himself.

"No! No, not at all, and that's the problem, Katie." He sucked in a deep breath. "I love you, Katherine Beckett. Not just as my best friend, I really, truly love you. I think I have for quite a while now, I just didn't allow myself to see it. And, mark my words," He pulled her to him, slipped his class ring onto her left hand, and kissed her softly for a moment. He smirked against her lips and murmured. "Someday, I'm going to marry you."

You ought to see her in my pickup, she's gotta have that radio up.

Bless her heart, she can't sit still, head in my lap, bare feet on the windshield.

Says, "Come on baby, let me drive."

Now honey, it's a stick shift, remember what you did last time.

Oh...yeah, and she's my kind of crazy.

The little games she plays, Lord they'll never get old.

She's too cute to get on my last nerve, the way she throws her little fits,

Pokin' out her lip, and bitin' mine when we kiss. There ain't a fight she can't win.

That's my baby, and she's my kinda crazy.

His train of thought was broken when an out of tune strum of his guitar echoed through the loft. He looked over across the dimly lit den and saw Kate strumming and swaying he hips lightly to the song that was playing in her head. She danced goofily across the hardwood floor, her socks slipping and sliding wildly until she was square in front of the television. Rick laughed loudly as she pulled her best "punk rock" face.

He slid his Zippo out of his pocket that Paula had gotten him when he'd published "In A Hail of Bullets", and flicked the striker wheel until a blue flame glowed. He waved the lighter back and forth slowly.

"What're you doin', honey?" He chuckled.

"I'm a rockstar." She giggled, strumming the guitar louder and dancing more sporadically. He slipped the lighter into his pocket and took a moment to survey the woman in front of him.

With her Red Sox cap pulled down over her eyes, his old AC/DC tshirt falling midway down her tanned thighs, and barefeet, she had never looked more beautiful. When she strayed close enough, he reached out and hauled her onto him, setting the guitar beside the couch, until she was straddling his hips.

She braced her hands on the back of the couch, tossing her hat over the back of the couch, and her hair fell into a curtain around his face.

Rick couldn't help but smile as she kissed him softly before pulling back enough so she could look down at him.

"You wanna come back to the tour bus, cowboy?" Her voice was low and raspy as she leaned in to whisper it in his ear. A shiver ran through him as her lips moved over the shell of his ear. "I've got lots of neat stuff I could show you." Rick's chuckle rumbled through both of them.

"Only if you promise to put a pen to that tshirt you've got on for me. Oh, and you've got to stick around to model it for me." He kissed her deeply, his hand tangling into her messy curls.

"You're gonna miss the game you know." She mumbled into the kiss but he could feel the smile playing on her lips. She had shifted forward just enough to let the chain hanging around her neck slip out of her shirt, and his class ring thumped against his chest. He lifted the ring to look at it, then lifted her hand to kiss the diamond ring and platinum wedding band.

"I told you so, you know." He whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"I told you I was gonna marry you someday. And I did. I'm glad that I used you as a diversion." He grinned when she slapped his chest playfully.

"You loved me before that and you know it." Rick kissed her gently and helped them both stand. She kissed his nose and leaned in until she was centimeters from his lips before bolting towards the bedroom. He stared after her for a moment and smiled before following.

Katherine Beckett was something else, there was no doubt about that. But she was his kind of crazy.

She never lets me rest, she keeps me up all night,

Known to roll me off the bed, and steal the covers off my side.

But, I hear "wake up, sleepy head". And I open up my eyes, and it's all worth while.

That's my baby, and she's my kinda crazy.

Thoughts? Drop me a review, they make my day. Much love, J. Rook