TWO

Carrying a take-away cup of coffee in each of her hands, Kate reached the doors leading to the morgue and turned around so she could use her back to push one of them open thereby keeping her cargo safe. Beginning her day with a seven a.m. visit to the morgue had become so commonplace Kate barely even noticed the unpleasant chemical smells and didn't even flinch at the sight of a corpse or two. She had long been desensitized to such encounters thanks to her profession, plus visiting the morgue came with a very positive, pleasant bonus: seeing one of her best friends, Dr. Lanie Parish.

The two had met three years earlier when Lanie took over as one of the lead medical examiners for the NYPD. After working with her on a few cases, Kate felt a bond start to form with the woman who's sassy, witty attitude always made her laugh, and they'd been friends ever since. As such, that morning's visit was not a work-related bonus, but one part of a larger mission.

"Morning Kate—and thank you very much!" Lanie said when she took the coffee cup from her friend's outstretched hand.

"You're welcome."

Lanie eagerly popped the top off the travel cup, stuck her nose over the rim, and inhaled deeply. "Oooh yeah; that's the good stuff. None of that factory-made shit they brew down here," she commented in reference to the NYPD provided java that was composed partly of coffee beans, but also chemical flavorings and other filler, since real beans had become very expensive and difficult to acquire.

Giving a little shrug Kate said, "Yeah, well, I thought I'd splurge today." And bribe her friend into helping her with her problem—or so she hoped.

"Celebrating something?"

"No."

Lanie took a sip of coffee, hummed pleasurably, and then said, "So then what is it? Your message was cryptic, and you know I don't like suspense."

Nodding her head, Kate placed her coffee cup on an empty steel exam table and then reached into the messenger bag slung over one shoulder. From it, she pulled a large brown envelope that had already been torn open at one end. She slipped her hand in through the torn edges and procured a bound pack of paper, which she held out to her friend. "This was messengered to my apartment yesterday afternoon."

Simply holding the book in her hand again sent a sharp pang of irritation into Kate's gut—she was just so annoyed.

When the package was delivered via messenger Kate could not even begin to fathom what it could be as she hadn't ordered anything. Figuring it might be something from work, she opened it, but was utterly shocked to find the thick stack of pages with a handwritten note on top. I thought you should be the first to read it – RC, it read. Utterly confused, it took her several minutes to identify the initials. RC—Richard Castle.

When she figured out the origins of the package, Kate had been filled with such fury that she dropped the bound book to the ground and crossed the room to glare at it like it was the poisonous spider she couldn't bring herself to get close enough to kill. Eventually she had picked it up and look at the cover page beneath the note, but she outright refused to look any further until she conferred with her friend who of course had been informed of the scandalous situation ad nauseum.

"Heat Wave by R. Castle?" Lanie read from the cover page. Turning towards her friend she asked. "Is this some sort of book?"

"Yes," Kate growled through gritted teeth. "By Richard Castle."

Lanie blinked. "Richard Castle? As in Rick, that guy who was your fake android?"

"That's the one."

A smile slowly appeared on Lanie's face. "Oh…so do you think this is the book he wrote after he spent time with you?"

"Seems a safe assumption," Kate said. Over five months had passed since she last saw the man who had forced his way into her life under the false pretense that he wasn't human. She supposed that was how long it took to write a book…or was it longer? Well, maybe he had taken longer because it stood to reason he had written some of it before they parted, especially from the way he worded his last sentence to her. Regardless—it didn't matter as she never wanted to think about or speak to him again.

Lanie leafed through some of the pages before asking, "Did you read any of it?"

"No. I was actually thinking about throwing it away."

"Why? You like his books."

Kate scoffed. "But now I don't like him."

"Right."

Lanie turned her head presumably to hide her eye-roll, but Kate still saw it and pulled the book from her hands, challenging, "No—don't. I know you don't think it was that bad, but I'm sorry; I just cannot ignore two years of deception. Two years, Lanie." They had gone through the discussion again and again and while Lanie had initially been shocked, her foremost emotion then turned to amusement and intrigue. Unlike Kate, she had rarely come in contact with a living male (not that a murderous male was much more preferable) so she was completely fascinated by them, and encouraged her friend to accept Rick's apology and move past the frustration of their initial time together.

Sighing, Lanie tilted her head slightly to the side. "I know; I get it. And maybe I'd feel differently if I was in your shoes but, from over here? Just… how many men do you know Kate—how many human men?"

"My father. Montgomery. That captain of the seventh precinct… Hamond, I think."

"If you don't know his name, you don't know him," Lanie pointed out. "Plus, all three of them are nearly double your age."

Kate planted a fist at her hip. "What's your point?"

Lanie reached out and patted her hand atop the book. "Rick Castle is a man who is your age. The first you've ever met who isn't a criminal I'd hazard to guess."

"So?"

"So maybe don't write him off so quickly. Maybe don't throw away his book. Maybe don't cut him out of your life until you've introduced him to your friends, who might want a shot of having real sex in their life."

"I thought Charlie rocked your world," Kate said, speaking of the male android Lanie preferred at the brothel she visited weekly.

With a rather tragic sigh, Lanie said, "He does, but I'm also certain a real man would be better."

Kate shivered at the mere thought. "I have not now, nor will I ever be interested in doing that with Rick."

Lanie laughed. "This isn't about you—what about me? But sex talk aside: read the book, Kate. I know you; I know you're curious both because you've liked his other books and because this is the one he wrote while doing research with you."

"Around me. With implies consent."

Rolling her eyes even more dramatically, Lanie said, "Just read the damn book, okay? And then send him a thank you note that also asks him out to dinner, and I'll show up instead of you."

Kate couldn't help but chuckle. "You're incorrigible."

She shrugged. "I know. At least think about reading it, okay?"

Kate nodded. "Okay." Then, she slipped the book back in her bag, said goodbye to her friend, and pushed any and all thoughts of Richard Castle from her mind; she needed to get to work.


Standing in the hall in front of the penthouse apartment (of course it was the penthouse apartment!) of that Broome Street loft building, Kate wiped her clammy palms against her jeans. Her heart was beating much faster than normal and she hated that—she hated the way that he riled her up and set her on edge. She hated herself even more for giving in to the curiosity and not only reading part of his book, but then going to the trouble of looking up his address using the NYPD database.

God—what a disaster!

But she had to speak to him. She had to confront him. She'd already spent over a week seething on her own and was more than a little sick of the persistent ache in her gut. She needed the closure—then she'd be done.

Setting her jaw, Kate stepped up to the door and pressed her finger down sharply on the doorbell button. She wrapped both arms tightly around the bound book she held, pressing it tightly against her breast as she waited. And waited. And waited for several minutes until she began to think that her trip had been a mistake. Maybe he wasn't at home. Maybe he didn't regularly live in his New York apartment, but at his home in the Hamptons instead. She certainly wasn't going to drive all the way to Southampton just to check. Should she then simply give up and walk away? She had his phone number; calling was another option, but she felt they deserved a face-to-face resolution instead of and over-the-phone one.

Just as she was about to walk away, the door swung open to reveal the rather surprised face of her former android. When she gazed down at his body, she also felt surprised, for he wore a knee-length robe and seemingly nothing else. Upon closer examination, his hair did appear to be damp, which meant she interrupted his shower. Great.

"H-hi," she said a bit dumbly.

"Kate! I…wow, I didn't expect to see you here," he said, leaning his shoulder against the now open door. "Sorry for the wait—I just got out of the shower."

"I can come back," she offered.

He shrugged. "You're here now. Can you give me two minutes?"

She nodded in confirmation and then stepped into the apartment when he moved aside. After shutting the door, he told her he'd be back soon, and that she could sit down if she wanted. Then he disappeared into a nearby door that she assumed led to his bedroom and bath.

Kate remained in the entryway for several moments, not wanting to sit down as it implied a level of comfort with the situation that she certainly did not possess. That, however, did not mean she ignored the opportunity to observe (okay, spy on) his space. While it was one of the largest she'd ever seen and decorated mostly with dozens and dozens of books, Kate's overwhelming emotion was that the apartment seemed rather empty and sad. Yes, there was plenty of furniture, but very little seemed personal—almost as though she had entered a hotel room and not someone's home.

Just two minutes later Rick returned wearing jeans and a plaid button-down though he was still barefoot. In his hand he held a small towel which he continued to rub over his hair and scalp. "Sorry about that," he said to her, but she shook off his concern. "It, um, it's nice to see you; I should have said that before, but can I ask…why are you here?"

She nodded, happy for the invitation to get down to the purpose for her visit. "I received the copy of your book and, to be entirely honest, I'm a little upset."

Another surprised expression crossed his face. "Oh really? Why?"

"Because…well—the book is about me!" she proclaimed, still flustered. She vividly remembered then the utter horror she'd felt as she turned page after page only to see more of herself reflected in the title character, Nikki Heat. A week later none of the rage had subsided; she simply felt violated—not to mention caught completely off guard.

The writer skimmed his fingers over his chin. "Well, I wouldn't say about you so much as inspired by."

Holding the packet of pages out in front of her she said, "Well I would really prefer if you altered some of the details before publishing."

He cringed. "Oh, well, see that's the thing—the book is being published; it's already been approved by-"

"Oh my god," she interrupted as the blood boiled in her veins. She threw her hands up and paced on the spot. "I cannot believe I thought I was done being betrayed by you."

"Wait—hang on—betrayed?" he questioned with confusion.

"Yes, betrayed. You lied about who you were for two years and now this! Why didn't you tell me about this book?"

"Well." He dipped his gaze towards the ground and gave a shrug reminiscent of the one he probably gave his mother when being scolded as a child. "You were already really mad at me and I didn't think this would make it any better."

"You don't say!" she snipped.

They remained silent for several moments before Rick asked tentatively, "But you read it right? All of it?"

She clicked her tongue with irritation. "No; only the first three chapters." That was all the further she got before the comparisons between herself and Nikki became nearly overwhelming. Those combined with a few other issues had made it nearly impossible for her to continue.

"Then might I suggest you read a little more?"

Folding her arms over her chest once more she said, "No. I don't want to. I don't want to read any more of your…your…" Unable to come up with a proper descriptor, she merely let out a grunt of frustration and shoved the bound book into his chest demanding, "Why did you do this?"

He merely gave her a small smile as he held the finished book in his hands. "Because you inspired me You're an extraordinary person and I've never met anyone like you."

Confused at how someone as deceptive as he could utter a genuine compliment, she narrowed her eyes asked, "What does that even mean?"

He took a half step forward and tucked the book under one arm, so he could tick off reasons on his fingertips. "You're strong and independent, but you have a big heart, a huge capacity for caring and love. You're one of the best detectives in the NYPD because of that heart, and an incomparable drive stemming from your mother's murder, I imagine. You'll leave no stone unturned to find justice, but yet you still fight an internal battle thinking that you're not doing enough. Even if there were more men in this world, you wouldn't need one to fulfill you. You challenge everyone around you, making them want to be better—at least, that's what you did to me."

At his words, Kate suddenly found herself struggling to breathe. Her abdomen tightened and diaphragm fluttered as though it had forgotten how to expand and contract her lungs. She stared at Rick with his sparking blue eyes and kind smile, and really took him in as a human being for the first time: the curves and edges of his face, the way his hair flopped against his forehead, the crinkle of skin between his eyebrows. Momentarily forgetting how he had lied to her, she wondered if all human men were like this one, but then she supposed not as most human women varied greatly.

In trying to process his words, Kate found herself flummoxed. True, she had been paid compliments before—many times, in fact—but this was more of a full assessment of herself; of her being. Most disturbingly, he was absolutely spot-on with most of his assessments, which was unnerving to her because she had no idea how he'd been able to figure so much out while simply being her household android. "You, um," she cleared her throat as her voice sounded hoarse. "You got all that from two days a week?"

He quirked his lips in a playful manner. "Plus a little more of my own research, yes."

"I…" Her voice drifted off as she remained entirely uncertain what to say. Instead, she took a small walk around the foyer, trying to clear her mind, though thinking about his time in her home, one persistent question did manager to escape her lips. "How…how'd you get so good at being an android?" As a cop she believed herself to be highly observant but were it not for the cut on his skin, she might not have figured out who he truly was.

"My mother's an actress; it's in the genes I suppose."

"And you were an android for other women, too, right?"

He bobbed his head. "In the beginning, yes; two others."

She nodded and continued to pace as she processed. On one of her lops, Kate caught sight of a photograph hanging on the wall beside a set of stairs. She walked over to find it depicted a younger version of the man before her standing beside a red-headed older woman. "Your mother?" she asked, pointing to the picture. When he confirmed, she asked, "Do you live with her?"

"She lives with me. That is, when she's not touring, she stays here since it's more convenient than maintaining her own place."

"Touring?"

"Traveling plays and such; she's been doing that a few years now."

Kate nodded and continued to walk around. Only when she caught sight of one of the books authored by R. Castle—one of the titles she happened to own—did she remember that author and Rick were one in the same. That connection in her mind spawned several more curiosities, one of them glaring. "If…if that's only been a few years, why does the author summary of your older books say you live in New York with your family."

"Because when that book was published I did."

She arched her brow at him. "You had a wife?"

"Yes."

"Children?"

"A daughter."

"Where are they?"

He huffed out a breath and slid his hands down into the pockets of his jeans. "I have no idea where my ex-wife is and frankly I didn't care because she's the reason our daughter is dead."

His final word hit her like a punch to the gut and Kate realized with horror what she had been doing: needling him, asking any and all questions that popped into her head as she tried to find answers; she had been treating him like one of her suspects, but that was wrong. "I…I'm so sorry; I didn't mean to-"

He shook off her apology and said, "It's okay; it was a long time ago. Nearly a decade now."

"I shouldn't have asked all those questions."

He merely looked amused. "It's okay; you were in interrogation mode. I understand."

Knowing she needed to bring their visit to a close before she upset the situation even further, Kate walked over and stood directly in front of him. "Can you really not make any changes to the book?"

Rick thought a moment. "Well, it's in final review with the editors, so theoretically I could if…if there was something specifically personal you wanted me to remove."

She shook her head. "It's not that—not just that. I…well, I saw a few things that were wrong about police procedure."

His brow lifted. "Really? What?"

"About what we do with a suspect between arrest and questioning. There could be more in later chapters and I, um, I could help you correct them." Did she really want to spend a lot more time with her former android? Not exactly, but nothing irritated her more than reading a book that used blatantly incorrect police procedure. If she had the opportunity to correct such a book and ignored it, she would be even more annoyed with herself. Plus, she had just inadvertently dredged up his tragic past and figured helping him might be a way of making amends.

"Oh!" He seemed surprised at first, but then he grinned at her. "I'd really appreciate that."

"Okay. I'll call you after I get my schedule for next week and we can set something up."

"You don't have my phone number," he pointed out.

She smiled at him. "Yes, I do; I found it along with your address."

He chuckled. "Okay."

She nodded to him and then took the book from his outstretched hand. She had walked halfway towards the exit when the other reason for her visit dawned on her. Spinning back around she said, "Oh…one more thing. I realized I never appropriately thanked you for saving my life—when that crane arm fell. So, thank you."

His brow rose as though he had almost entirely forgotten about the incident. "Oh, it…of course, Kate. I was just glad you were ok."

She nodded and then opened the door before saying, "I'll be in touch," and walking out into the hallway.


A/N: Thank you all so much for reading

i'm so glad to hear you are all equally if not more excited about this one - to be honest i was too!

Also thanks to Travis for the cover art!