She is in Richard freaking Castle's living room, standing next to his couch, the water dropping from her drenched clothes collecting in a small puddle to her feet. She can hear him rummaging around a closet in a room behind the huge shelves filled with books of all sorts. She still can't quite wrap her mind around the fact that he is currently in there looking for dry clothes for her to wear, because apparently she is going to spend some time in his loft, waiting out the rain and somehow she isn't entirely sure whether she wants the rain to stop immediately or never.

She walks up to his book shelf, tilts her head sideways so she can read the titles of his books. There's a lot by Stephen King, Edgar Allan Poe and Raymond Chandler, books over books about murder, mayhem and mystery, most of which she has read as well.

"I got you a pair of tights from my mother which should fit, and one of my hoodies" he's walking out of what seems to be his study and halts only for a moment to look at her, standing in front of his books before he moves over to hand her the clothes.

"You can get changed in there" he points back over his shoulder towards the room she has made out to be his study.

"Thanks" it's but a mere whisper and she scolds herself for it before she gives him a small smile and walks over to the opened to door to enter his office.

It's huge. Walls filled with book shelves that reach up unto the ceiling, his desk placed in the middle of the room on a white rug. She lets her eyes travel across the room, takes in the piece of art hung on the wall behind his desk showing a seemingly endless staircase, the antique typewriter sitting on one of the shelves and the bucket in the corner that for some reason is filled with fencing swords.

She lets herself look around some more when she starts to undress, ridding herself from the wet clothes sticking to her skin to replace them with the warm and dry clothes he has given her.

The tights fit her perfectly, in the size that is, otherwise there probably is no pair of tights that would be less fitting for Detective Beckett. It is a mixture of leopard and zebra print, colored in bright red and blue and she looks down her legs doubtfully before she puts on the hoodie. It is way too big for her, hanging loose somewhere close to her knees, but it is warm and comfy, the fabric soft on her skin and it smells like coffee and something slightly darker she can't quite place.

She grabs the pile of wet clothes to her feet before she makes her way over to the door again, halts at the door knob for a second before she enters his living room again, a living room that is now filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee.


The coffee is good. Soothing, warm and oh so very welcome. She drinks in small sips, savors the flavor of it, of coffee, steamed milk and the remote taste of vanilla that starts to warm her up from the inside.

Both of her hands are wrapped around the blue cup, his hoodie drawn over her wrists up until the knuckles of her fingers as she sits on one of his bar stools, watching him shuffling around the kitchen, apparently searching for something.

He started rambling about the rain when she had sat down and is still discussing the weather in a nervous monologue that is just so utterly adorable that can't help smiling into her coffee mug. Because who knew, that Detective Katherine Beckett had the ability to make Richard Castle nervous to a state where the bestselling author was reduced to nervous ramblings in the middle of his kitchen.

"You want some cookies?" he slides the package filled with cookies along the counter towards her and she catches them just before they were about to topple over the edge and places them next to her coffee mug, about to say something when she hears a small voice coming from the top of the stairs, a voice that judging from the sound of it is coming from a little girl, that appears on top of the stairs only a second after. She's wearing a purple and blue striped pullover over a pair of black tights that are covered by fuzzy socks drawn up almost underneath her kneecaps.

"I can't find the chamber of secrets"

She sees Castle nodding at her earnestly, preparing for a serious answer to his daughter's serious problem.

"Only the true heir of Slytherin can" she smiles slightly as she sees the little girl giving him a look, a look that as she imagines is being passed at him at least a couple of times a day, a look filled with fake annoyance before the girl rolls her eyes dramatically and speaks again.

"I mean the book"

"Check in the living room"

His daughter hops down the stairs and only then seems to notice the presence of the woman sitting at the kitchen counter. Beckett smiles at her shyly and raises her hand in a somewhat awkward wave.

"Hi"

Alexis skips over to them, bounces on her heels a moment before extracting her hand towards the Detective sitting on the stool.

"Hi, I'm Alexis" Kate takes the offered hand and gives the small palm that is completely enveloped in hers a gentle squeeze.

"I'm Kate" the small glance over to her father is minimal, almost unnoticeable, probably from years of training that has allowed the two of them to communicate quickly, without words, yet the Detective catches the brief look, the unspoken conversation, between a father and his daughter checking whether the strange woman sitting at the kitchen counter was okay, a friend or not, and judging from the small nod Castle directs at his daughter she is the prime.

"I'll go read The Prisoner of Azkaban until I find the Chamber of Secrets now" Alexis says cheerfully and turns around to leave the two of them alone again.

"You can't do that" The fake shock is practically radiating from Castle's voice as he scolds his daughter playfully "You can't just mess up the order!"

"Well, I'm a rebel, daddy, you know that" Alexis laughs, climbing up the stairs.

Castle shakes his head at her, eyes wide, before he sighs in disappointment.

"That's like skipping to the last page to see who the murder is, you know that right?" His objection is ignored by his daughter, who is now standing at the top of the stairs.

"It was nice meeting you, Kate"

"You too, Alexis" Kate smiles at her before the girl returns back into her room, ready to mess up a sacred book order.

She smiles to herself for a moment before she turns around to face the father once again. He is smiling at her brightly, blue eyes sparkling and crinkling around the edges and she can't help but smile back upon seeing him so obviously proud of his daughter.

"She's adorable" Castle's smile grows impossibly wider at her words before he responds. "She is."


"So Kate" he finally moves around the counter himself and takes a seat next to her "You said you're a detective?" She turns slightly, facing him once again, where he is seated next to her, so close and so real and she actually has to resist the temptation of reaching out to touch him just to make sure of that.

"I will be" he looks at her with those blue eyes, eyes with actual interest shining in them and although she can't imagine why the hell Richard Castle should be interested in her life she goes on "I got a job offer this week, I'll start at the 12th precinct in a couple of weeks"

"What department?"

"Homicide" he seems impressed with her answer, which for some reason pleases her greatly and they settle into a small moment of silence, which has the both of them taking lazy sips of coffee and listening to the rain and traffic coming from the outside, before she starts speaking again. Her words now are spoken with reluctance, with a distinct uncertainty about whether she actually wants to ask or rather keep it quiet.

"So, you're a writer" it's not even a question and they both know it.

"You read my books" she takes a sip of her coffee again, before she shrugs, letting him wait a couple of seconds more before answering.

"I might have read one or two" he smiles at that, nods musingly with his forefinger tracing his chin dimple, deep in thought- apparently.

"Did you like them?"

"They were okay" she purses her lips in the futile attempt to suppress the smile tucking at the corners of her mouth.

She watches him raise his eyebrows ever so slightly, the small smile still playing on his lips before he reaches out for the notebook on the counter and starts twisting and turning it around in between his fingers for a good while without saying anything else.

"You read this?" she chokes on her coffee at his words, the scalding hot liquid burning down her throat as she starts coughing. She hears the faint sound of a strangled laugh coming from him, before she feels his hand padding her back until the fit of couch is over, leaving her breathing a little heavy and her face flushed in a bright red.

"I…."

He chuckles lightly at her obvious embarrassment before he interrupts her.

"Kate, it's fine, really, don't worry about it"

"I flipped through it and read a couple of pages, I…" she trips over her sentences, flounders over her words before she feels his warm palm being placed on her upper arm, his fingers squeezing gently, effectively shutting her up.

"It's okay, Kate" he laughs, and she finally takes a deep breath and nods at him.

"Although…." His voice trails into nothingness, faking to be distracted by the looks of his kitchen cupboards and she raises her eyebrow at him.

"You know, there is this book party this weekend" she feels the smile blossoming on her face as she realizes where this is going and quickly replaces it with a look of mock innocence.

"Oh… okay?" she flutters her eyelashes at him.

"Yeah and you know" he turns the cup in his hands "Those parties…are just so boring"

"Uh-huh?"

"Yeah, just some boring writers discussing who wrote more books and who got more reviews by the New York Ledger, it's deadly boring"

"That's too bad" she's wrapping strands of her hair around her finger now, playing with it while still somehow managing to keep up her mask of indifference and fake innocence.

"Well…" he turns around to look at her again, the corners of his mouths twitching with the held back laughter begging to be freed.

"Having a date would make that night so much better" he releases a long and heavy sigh, looking down onto the counter now and she has to give him that, if he weren't an author he would make one hell of an actor.

"I could ask one of my friends to go with you" she hears his huffed laugh at her response and she closes her eyes for a split second to gather her composure again.

"Or maybe you could come" he shrugs "You owe me after all"

"Oh and why is that?"

"Well you have read my innermost thoughts and invaded my privacy by reading this" he holds up the notebook as if it were the key element of evidence in court "So I guess it's only fair that you have to suffer through hours of boredom with me, don't you think?"

She almost laughs, can't stifle the smile blossoming on her lips anymore, and she doesn't want to either.

"Well, I guess you are right about that, Mister Castle"


Thanks for reading and thank you all for your reviews, I love hearing your thoughts on my stories and really appreciate the effort!3