Thank you all for taking the time to read this. A lot of alerts and favorites. This is long and angsty but is necessary to set up the final few chapters.

Some of you think these two are out of character but you'll soon find out why they're the way they are. My Castle is not nearly as wimpy and limp-wristed as the one on the boob tube and Beckett is more human given all that's happened to her and the toll it's taken.

Thanks for reading and if I lose some of you, perhaps you'll reconsider in the future when you're bored enough.

I don't own Castle - I'm just using it to stave off terminal boredom myself. Sorry, Amanda.

Final Heat by Old Man

Chapter 4

The last chapter hopped around in time a lot so here's a place mark from the last chapter to begin reading this chapter in the story's 'now' time frame.

She'd been too damned caught up in her own little drama to recognize it. She thought he'd finally realized that what she did was dangerous and that he had a daughter and mother to consider and was trying to remove himself from the situation without losing too much face. She'd assumed it was an ego thing but it wasn't his image he was trying to preserve. She could see now what everyone else had seen for the past year or more.

He loved her. He lost her. He wanted her to be happy but it was killing him by degrees to see her happy with another man. He was too much the noble gentleman to intrude upon her happiness and tell her how he felt so he tried to leave without out fuss or fanfare.

Kate Beckett's Apartment
8:30am

She had cried for the better part of an hour and dozed off and then awoke to a chilling epiphany.

The very fate she feared if she allowed Richard Castle to get too close, to breach her bastions and conquer her heart perhaps to cast her aside or worse, encapsulate her in his world never to breathe free again – she was guaranteeing herself by marrying Josh Davidson, cardiac surgeon and self-anointed Savior of the Third World.

'Josh accepted a speaking engagement even though he knew it would conflict with the wedding and so he did what he always did – he made the world adapt to his expectations. He practically demanded that she keep her appointment with that harpy and her pins and needles but he couldn't even show up because he had something else to do.'

Kate set Castle's book aside and began stripping off her clothes as she made her way to the shower.

'What was it Lanie said when I told her I had to rush to make the fitting appointment? Oh yeah, Castle would have understood. Castle would have bought the damned dress shop and told them to change their hours. He would have, too.'

Castle's Loft
8:30am

Alexis Castle stepped out of the cab and slipped the cabbie the fare and a $10 tip following her father's admonition to 'always reward service'. She glanced at her watch and marveled that 6 short hours ago she was boarding the 'red eye' from LAX to LaGuardia. She didn't miss L.A, and, despite her being her mother, she was really glad that Meredith took a role in a movie being filmed in Africa. Meredith was even worse to manage than her father.

"Hullo, Miz Cazzle". Piotr tipped an imaginary hat and tried to take her wheeled suitcases but Alexis held firm.

"That's okay, Piotr, and for the zillionth time, it's Alexis. How long have you been opening up my doors, tying my shoes, putting band aids on my skinned knees, carrying my…"

"It would not be kulturny to be so familiar. And it has been 12 years and 3 months, Miz Cazzle."

"Well, I demand that you call me Alexis when you dance with me at my wedding, agreed?"

"You – you are marrying? Does your father know of this? Who is he? What does he do? Does he know that your father is wealthy and merely wanting to wet his beak in his fortune?"

"Whoa, whoa, Piotr. I meant sometime in the future. Oh, no, no marriage in my near future. I'm starting school at Princeton and then I have plans that don't include a husband. I just meant that I'd like you to at least think about calling me Alexis at my wedding."

'Wow! He's worse than my Dad about who I date. Marriage? Not very damned likely. I have plans.'

"Your father is not in residence, Miz Cazzle. He had a car take him to catch a train for Washington, District of Columbia. He will not be back for three days I think."

She smiled at him. Piotr Rudensky took information in, processed it and then recited it in the most exacting way. For example, there were two Washingtons, the state and the nation's capital, and his little speech eliminated any doubt as to her Dad's destination. Ex- GRU operatives were very precise.

"Thank you. I'll just go up and unpack and then sleep for a week. The Red Eye is a killer on jet lag."

"I will be here until 5 if you require anything." He held the door open for her as he had for 12 years and then followed her to the elevator and pushed the button and waited until the car arrived and she was safely aboard before returning to his post.

The loft was quiet and she knew she was alone. She would have felt her father or grandmother if they were here. She took out her cell phone and called her Dad.

"Hey, Pumpkin. You just getting in from some party or something? It's just past 4, Alexis, and I hope you were with your mother." He thought she was still in California.

"No, it's half past eight and I'm in the kitchen looking for something to eat. Dad, what have you been living on? There aren't any take out cartons and the place is clean!"

"I've been working and I spent the last two months out at the Hamptons and that explains the lack of food and filth. I finished Final Heat and Gina has it and it's in print. I'm going to D.C. to investigate another potential project. So why, daughter dearest, are you home alone in New York? Your mother didn't run off with the pool boy again, did she, Alexis?"

"No. She accepted a role that was filming in some remote spot and I opted to come home and spend my last free summer before adulthood with my Pops. When are you coming back, Dad? I've missed you."

"Thursday afternoon unless there's some problem with the forms or permission slips I had to have approved. Alexis, why don't you hop on the train and join me? We can tour the capital and see the new exhibits at the Smithsonian."

"Dad, you finished a book already? You hadn't even thought about a 4th book when I left. Wait! Wait! You actually finished a Nikki Heat novel in the time I've been gone? That's – I was going to say 'awesome' but I think I'd be wrong. What's up, Dad?"

She thought back to her conversation with Gina, her ex-stepmother and all around dragon lady but who was useful in ferreting out information on her father's activities when he went into hibernation and wrote.

"I'll tell you what. You come down and join me and I'll tell you everything but only if you join me, Snookums. Deal?"

"Dad, you only call me pet names when you're deflecting. What don't you want me to know? Daaaaad?" She always drew out the word when she was suspicious of something or worried about something. She was both in this case.

"Well, like I said, I went to the Hamptons and the inspiration just hit me and I sat down and wrote and wrote and…"

"Okay, so you wrote. Tell me about the book. I don't like the title. It's not something to be found in the middle of a series."

"That's because it's the last – or final – book in the Nikki Heat saga. I grew bored with her and I found the character of Rook to be written too badly to restructure as he should have been so I killed him off and Nikki and Corbett rode off into the sunset and married. I learned my lesson with Derek Storm, Pumpkin. I can always resurrect Nikki Heat if needs be, although putting poor Rook together again might be more than even I can manage."

"Dad, that's a crock and you know it. Do you really expect me to believe that you ended…something happened, didn't it? Tell me, Daddy. You know I won't judge you."

He laughed bitterly. She was the only one in his life who didn't judge him except maybe his mother and that's only because she lived in a glass house herself.

"Come on down, sweetie. I could use a friendly face. I'll spill my guts over pizza when I meet you. Text me the schedule and I'll pick you up. Later, gator."

"Bye, Dad. Love you."

"Love you, too, Alexis. Make sure you're careful on the train and wait for me at the station. You cannot be too careful out there amongst the politicians."

"You're a nut, you know that? I'll be careful but what happens if some handsome Democratic staffer should come along and sweep me off my feet?"

"Yuck! I'd rather you played violin in a – "

"Dad! I know how that sentence ends and it's disgusting! You know I'd never date a Democrat. Not when there are so many interesting Green Party possibilities."

"That's it! I'm sending you to a damned convent. Don't bother trying to wheedle your way out of it, either. You've gone too far this time, Alexis."

"Watch for my text, Daddy."

"Always, sweetie."

Alexis went into her bedroom to get online and reserve a seat on the 2pm train to Washington. She paid for it with her own personal American Express Card that her father had given her when she left to visit her mom.

Alexis had just stepped out of the shower when she heard the 'house phone' ringing and ran to answer it.

"Hello, Piotr. You rang?"

"Miz Cazzle, a Detective Beckett would like to speak with you or your father. I informed her that Mr. Cazzle was not in residence. You will speak with her?" He was always protective of the nicest tenants and the Castle family was at the top of his list.

"Send her up, Piotr. I'll unlock the door for her. I just got out of the shower and need to dress. Tell her not to bother knocking. I'll be right down."

Beckett almost left without seeing Alexis. She wanted to see, no, she needed to see Castle the elder, not his daughter but she couldn't think of any quick reason not to speak with her. She liked Alexis and was embarrassed that she might know about the Battle of the Bullpen.

Her therapy sessions with the department shrink were 'progressing satisfactorily' according to Dr. Palmer. She knew police work. She'd worked her way through college as a patrol officer in Philadelphia.

'Detective, the altercation you had with Mr. Castle does not appear in your records because – it never happened. Well, okay, it happened, but not the way you think it did. Mr. Castle's statement boils down to 'she was showing me a self-defense move and I missed a block and she clocked me. It was an unfortunate accident that occurred on my final day of consulting'. There is nothing here to explain it as anything other than what Mr. Castle described.'

She remembered being stunned and ashamed when she heard the 'official' version of what happened. It was totally unexpected. Why had he protected her when all she wanted to do was hurt him?

'Detective, I want the truth. I don't buy the bullshit Castle read into the record. He should have hung you out to dry but he didn't. Can you tell me why?'

They'd spent several sessions talking about 'Castle & Beckett' but she still didn't understand why he'd done it. She knew 'why' but not 'why'. He didn't want her to lose her job. That was the first 'why' but she had refused to admit to herself the reason behind the second 'why'. Until she read his last book in the Nikki Heat series.

The elevator opened and she walked down the hallway to the loft's ornate door and opened it and stepped into Castle's lair. Alexis called down that she was dressing and to make herself at home.

She made a beeline for Castle's office to snoop but mostly because she could surround herself with him. Right then she needed the comfort that being around his things would bring her.

It looked – clean, Spartan, utilitarian – as if awaiting a new occupant. The "I love me" wall was clean and freshly painted. Gone were the photographs from the 12 Precinct and the Nikki Heat launch parties, the book posters, the framed reviews and other Heat memorabilia. It almost looked like someone was – moving out or perhaps moving on and dumped an unpleasant history.

Thinking like the detective she was, Kate checked the trashcan. Eureka! She found several legal pads with scenes from possible novels as well as a number of sharpened pencils. She remembered that he told her once that he wrote his death scenes in pencil on a legal pad because the act was too intimate in his mind to write about it in such a cavalier manner using a computer.

But it was the thing in the bottom of the can that caught her attention and caused an involuntary sob to escape. It was a framed snapshot of her and Castle in better days. He looked so happy and she was looking at him with a genuine smile. He'd apparently thrown it down with enough force to shatter the glass and break the frame. She gingerly brushed glass off the photograph.

And that's how Alexis Castle found Katherine Beckett, in tears and staring at a photograph of two people who looked perfect together.

"Detective Beckett? Is something wrong? I – Oh, no, not again." She took in the room and then looked at Beckett.

"Oh, no! He killed off Nikki Heat? He did this the last time he ended a series. He did this with Derek Storm. He emptied the room out and had it repainted and he put his treasures related to the Storm series in storage and started over. It's how he separates himself from the 'emotional pain'. It's a typical Richard Castle drama queen move."

"I guess he felt some 'treasures' were best thrown away. And it was Rook he killed off, Alexis, not Nikki." She handed Alexis the photograph hoping she'd return it. She planned on keeping it if she could.

Alexis looked at the photograph and ran a fingertip over her father's face. She knew that look.

"Dad's in Washington getting permission for something to do with his next series. What happened between you two, Detective? He quit going to the Precinct and no one ever called about a body. I knew I never should have gone to California. He needed me and he was all alone."

"Something happened two months ago, shortly after the freezer incident, and I haven't seen him since." She was twisting her engagement ring nervously and Alexis saw the movement and the ring. Beckett didn't know how much she knew about their near-death experiences and so she was deliberately vague.

"I see congratulations are in order, Detective. Who's the lucky man?" She knew about the freezer incident. She didn't know what exactly happened but that and whatever occurred after he'd ordered her and her grandmother to the Hamptons had hurt him terribly and he'd spent several days in bed covered in blankets with the heat turned up to near-stifling levels.

"Ah, a guy I've been seeing. He's a doctor and, well, we haven't set a date yet – not really. He's a very busy man and travels a lot and he's hardly ever around. But I came here hoping to see your father but since he's out, I'll just slip out. It was nice seeing you again, Alexis."

"Detective, here's your photo. Keep it. You two looked very happy. I know Dad can be a handful but I hope you can forgive whatever he's done. He misses you, and…"

Kate whirled around and Alexis could see the unshed tears in her eyes.

She almost whispered her answer to Alexis. "It's what I've done that's so unforgivable. I ignored what everyone else saw. I chose to ignore it. I was afraid of it. I ignored him when he needed me most. I ignored the man who ran into my burning apartment to find me, who held me while we were freezing to death and saved my life. I turned my back on him then and again later. Twice he saved my life, our lives. Twice I denied him what he needed. Twice I left with someone else."

"It took you two months to realize that?" Alexis was beginning to feel the famous Castle temper flaring. She liked Beckett but she loved her Dad. Beckett must have hurt him so badly that he removed himself from her life and then killed 'himself' off in a novel, symbolically ending the relationship.

Kate nodded, unable to trust herself to speak for a few seconds. "Yeah, pathetic, huh?"

She looked at the redhead and saw something she'd never expected to see on her face. Contempt.

She brushed by Kate and sat down in her father's chair.

"Yeah, Detective Beckett, it surely is. I'll tell my Dad you stopped by. You know the way out."

Alexis sat at her father's desk and quietly seethed, her anger at the woman her Dad had come to idolize and immortalize roiling just under the surface of her emotions.

She heard the loft door close and really looked around the office. She saw the stack of promotional posters and publisher's advanced copies of Final Heat in the corner. She scooped up a copy of the novel and then a poster and walked up to her room.

She unrolled the poster and held it out at arm's length. She gasped and then smiled. She recognized his style and confirmed that her gifted parent had painted the master for the poster himself since she saw the very small "RAC" signature. It was Beckett, and he'd captured her in a way only he could see but that others would appreciate. There was something about the poster…

She tried to pick off a flaw on Beckett's cheek and then realized it was a bloody teardrop. Now she knew she had to read the entire novel before arriving in DC. She would have questions and he would, for once, explain everything that had happened since she'd left.