Back to Where We Have Never Been

A/N: Here is a short one to tide you over until my assorted papers, projects and presentations are done for the week. woo. Once again, thank you all for your kind reviews and feedback! I love reading your thoughts and comments and I am so happy you are enjoying reading this as much as I love writing it! :)

Chapter 3

Kate's pointer finger sat posed over the track pad on her laptop as she debated whether to click on the website or not. She knew everything that he had listed off about her was public record, or at least could be deduced by looking at her webpage from Stanford, but that didn't mean that she couldn't still feel violated. And fair was fair, right?

She took a deep breath and clicked.

Kate hated to admit it, but trolling the Richard Castle fan sites was actually a wealth of information, not that she would use any of it of course. She wasn't going to call him; she didn't have time to. Mark would be back state side in a few days and she wanted to spend her time being touristy with him, maybe show him some of the places she liked to hang out in as a kid. She had been thinking about those places a lot lately: Drake's Magic Shop, Comicadia. There was even a comic book store near the university she would sneak into sometimes just too look around, buy a couple new books. Everyone was allowed a guilty pleasure, and Professor Katherine Beckett's just happened to be comic books.

She scrolled through the pages silently, looking at the links, the comments. She made her way through the fan sites clicking on the biography section of each one. With every page her eyes bugged a little further out of her head. All of this could not possibly be true. Two failed marriages, a series of publicity photos, each one with a different woman hanging on his arm, sometimes even draped around him. Every page practically flaunted the fact that he was a playboy. She snorted to herself. Maybe if he spent as much time writing as he did at parties, he would become a better writer. That should be her advice. Kate shook her head; she wasn't planning on giving any advice.

Kate paused as she came across pictures of a read headed teenaged girl, smiling next to Castle at a book premiere. He wouldn't… Kate glanced down at the caption and let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she saw that it states she was his daughter. Her eyes shifted back to the picture, she was a pretty girl, looked like a good enough kid. Then again, so had Kate and she had definitely gotten into her fair share of trouble at that age.

She clicked back to the search engine and made her way to her favorite site for book reviews. She could at least see what people were saying about the novels. There was nothing wrong with that. She was just curious about why he wanted her help. She didn't care that he had chased after her twice or that a shock had shot straight to her heart when their hands had touched. She didn't care that she could easily get lost in his blue eyes if she wanted to. No, she did not care about any of that stuff. She was engaged, she loved Mark and she was happy. She couldn't care less about Richard Castle or his proposal. That was why she was staring at reviews of his books at one o'clock in the morning and why the slip of paper with his phone number on it was on the side table, held down securely by her phone, because she didn't care. Not at all.

The phone started to buzz and dance and Kate was startled out of her trance. She glanced over at the screen and smiled slightly at the name.

"Hey," She said softly into the phone as she brought it up to her ear, pushing her laptop off of her lap and leaning back to nestle into the stack of pillows behind her. She brought her knees up against her chest and twirled a strand of hair around a finger.

"Hey, babe. How was your date?"

Kate laughed; relieved to hear Mark's joking tone was back. "It wasn't a date, you goofball. But it went okay, I guess. He asked me to critique his books. He wants to improve his writing, his characters. He said he wants me to help him."

"Oh, well that's good, I guess. Are you going to do it?"

Kate sighed. "No, I don't have time. Not that I really want to in the first place. I want to spend time with my parents and you will be here in a few days. I want to show you around the city. I can't do that if I am making red marks all over Castle's novels."

"But you're interested. I know that tone, Katie. He got to you."

Kate's fingers tingled softly and she flexed them in response.

"He did not."

"Yes, he did. You are going into defensive mode. He totally got to you."

Kate heard the laughter in Mark's teasing tone and couldn't help but smile. "Okay, fine. He got to me. I feel bad for the guy, okay? And according to some of the reviews, his writing has been going down hill over the last few years. I mean, they are still best sellers, but since he killed off this Derek Storm guy, the quality hasn't been the same. It's sad."

Mark was silent for a minute. "I think you should do it, Katie."

Kate paused, hair twisted all around her pointer finger. "You what?"

"I think you should help the guy. If there is one thing you are really good at it is dissecting stuff, investigating; getting to the bottom of a work. You can figure out what an author was thinking just by reading a page."

Kate pushed herself up to sit cross-legged in the middle of her bed. "But you will be here in a few days, I can't possibly get finished that quickly."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Katie."

"Mark? What's going on?"

"I got invited to be on a panel, for that conference I was telling you about. I didn't want to tell you about it earlier because nothing was confirmed, but it is next week so I would have to extend my stay in Moscow. I can tell them no, but it is a great opportunity and I would still be back in time for the beginning of the semester. I would just have to skip New York and meet you back in California."

Kate let out a slight laugh. That was it? "So, that is why you were so weird on the phone earlier because you didn't want to tell me that you wanted to stay in Moscow? Here I was thinking you were getting cold feet or found yourself a Russian supermodel."

Mark chuckle floated through the speaker. "You know me, Katie, I am many things but I am not a cheater. Besides, I already have a supermodel. Having two would just be obnoxious. Even though, I have to admit, the other economists would be extremely jealous. Have you seen those guys? Big black framed glasses and pocket protectors."

"Mark!" Kate admonished. "That is not nice. Your colleagues are perfectly nice people. Slightly socially awkward but perfectly nice. And I am in no way a supermodel."

"Oh, I have evidence to the contrary. I believe there was a clothing ad involving a tennis racket that your father showed me last time we were in town…"

Kate's eye grew wide. "I'm going to kill him."

Mark laughed again. "It was cute, Katie, and now I can tell people that I am marrying a model. Trust me, I don't mind."

"Don't you dare. I was seventeen and it was one summer."

They fell into a comfortable silence and Kate lowered herself back into the pillows, snuggling down deeper as she felt her eyelids start to get heavy.

"Are you sure you don't mind about the conference?" Mark asked again, quieter.

Kate sighed and brought a hand up to rub her eyes. "No, I don't mind. It's a great opportunity and an honor. My mother will be disappointed, though. She was planning on making a pot roast for you, you know."

Mark groaned. "No, I'm going to miss the pot roast? Of all the things you got from your mother, why couldn't you get her cooking skills?"

"Hush. I've got plenty of other skills you like. You want me to trade some of those in for the ability to make pot roast?"

Mark gulped. "Nope. I'm good."

Kate laughed. "Uh huh, that's what I thought. I love you."

"I love you, too. I've got to go, the meeting is about to start. Call me later?"

"Of course. Have a good day."

Kate pressed the red button on the touched screen before letting her gaze shift over to the piece of paper fluttering slightly on the table. She picked it up, flicking the jagged edge a couple of times, letting out a huff of air, her cheeks puffing out. She looked down at it again and scrunched her nose. Well, it was not like she had anything else to do, now. Her parents would still be working during the week so she would just be sitting around by herself. This way at least she wouldn't be bored.

Slowly she picked up her phone and tapped on the text message icon.

Okay, Castle. She typed with her thumbs. I'm in.

She placed the phone back on the table and clicked off the light before curling up under the blanket. The phone buzzed back with his reply and she grasped for it blindly, bringing it up to hover over her face to read his response.

She couldn't help but smiled at his overuse of capital letters, exclamation points and smiley faces.

It had nothing to do with his bright blue eyes or the tingling that she could still feel in her finger tips hours later. Nothing at all.