Hey all, unending thanks and love to each and every one of you that reads and/or reviews -- I enjoy writing so much, and hearing your praise as well as criticism really inspires me and helps me to improve. Though I've noticed that there has been less of a response lately, and that makes me wonder, are you guys losing interest? Should I wrap this up and start on something else, or keep on going with this particular story? Don't be afraid to share your thoughts on the matter, I love hearing from each of you. Hope you like the chapter, and if not, my apologies! I forgot to say last chapter, hope you all had a wonderful holiday. Castle belongs to ABC.

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Chapter 7 -- Breakthrough

Sitting upon his daughter's floral bedspread looking so open, so raw, so vulnerable, was a woman that Rick Castle didn't know. Rather than a bold, feisty lioness of a homicide detective, he found himself viewing a nineteen year-old -- lost, insecure, and searching for a much-needed buoy in a sea of despair. It was the same devastated girl he had met that fateful day in the Beth Israel Medical Center, when he'd given the news about the discoveries he'd made involving her mother's case. It had taken him only a moment to realize that this trembling young lady, at her wits' end, was the person that Beckett had locked away the second she'd learned of her mom's murder. A side of herself that she kept hidden deep within the darkest, most obscure corner of her soul. This girl, robbed of the carefree innocence she'd known and groping desperately for it, had been forcibly smothered by a primal instinct. The one for survival.

It was this very same compulsion to shove forward, to shun emotion and remain unharmed, that kept Kate Beckett from allowing herself to love and be loved in return. Though it was true that, following her mom's death, she had received professional help to deal with her self-destructive impulses, no therapist could teach her how to use the furiously pumping muscle in her chest all over again. Given that it had been torn savagely during a time when she had still been learning how to handle it, her heart was irregularly mended, an appendage wounded that would never be quite the same. Its defenses were in overdrive, keeping out both the harmful as well as the healing.

This was a habit that needed to be broken, and as the two individuals surveyed one another from across the bedroom, they were each aware of it. But it was one thing to know of a problem's existence, and a whole other endeavor to repair it. Rick was fully aware of the fact that he couldn't be her knight in shining armor, galloping on a valiant steed to rescue her, the distressed damsel, from her inner demons. Though he was a writer, paid to utilize his overactive imagination, if there was one thing he'd learned over the course of his thirty-something years it was this: the difference between writing a novel and living a life was that no single person could dictate the turn of events, no matter how hard they tried. Reality was reality, fate was fate, and thus the carnival ride of everyday existence was born.

But another thing he had picked up simply by living, loving and suffering was that when someone important came into your life, you did everything in your power to keep them around. Sure, what was meant to happen would, undoubtedly, occur, but that didn't justify sitting around with your finger up your ass. Rick liked to think that a sliver of an individual's life was their own to control, and this had everything to do with matters of the heart. He had made mistakes with his own relationships, that was for certain -- twice divorced, he was definitely not the love guru. But on the other hand, one of these inauspicious marriages had bestowed upon him the greatest gift of all: his daughter, Alexis. She was his universe, the best thing to ever happen to him, and what led him to believe that out of difficult circumstances came unexpected virtue.

In a nutshell, the man -- much wiser than anyone gave him credit for -- was not about to let Detective Beckett slip away. If she thought she could say a few scornful words, shy away from a couple of his advances, and subsequently force him to give up, then she was wholly mistaken. She was scarred and bruised from her past, he understood that, but it did not dismay him. Everyone had their battle wounds, himself included. But that didn't provide an excuse not to live, or take the chances that came as part of doing so. Every day was a risk, and by getting out of bed each morning, Rick thoroughly believed that one was agreeing to take whatever life tossed in their direction. And that included putting yourself on the line for something that might not turn out, but had the potential to be incredible.

And despite the trials and tribulations their relationship had already suffered, Rick felt confident that, given the chance, his connection with the spellbinding brunette before him could very well be one of those breathtaking things life sometimes offered. It was an opportunity he was unwilling to let pass by.

Taking a step or two until he stood in the center of the room, the mystery writer was finally driven to speak. "You know, it marvels me how you can say that." He stated in an unwavering tone that forced Beckett to maintain eye contact. "That it 'can't work' or 'isn't appropriate.' Who are you to decide such a thing? Fill me in on how that spins for you, Detective, when it seems to me that it takes two for any relationship to 'work', as you put it." When she remained wrapped in a cocoon of silence, he continued, "You're wounded, I get that. But who isn't?" No response. "Please tell me, who have you met that isn't at least a little fucked up? And don't even try to indicate me, because I'll tell you right now, I've gotten around a few more times than a labrador puppy." Behind his measured words, there was a silent rage that Kate had never seen in him before.

Having once again shoved away the vulnerable girl at her core, the detective stood up slowly, arms crossed over her chest. "You just don't get it, do you, Castle? You really don't." She shook her head at the wall, an expression of pure and unbridled bitterness disfiguring her features. Now looking him straight in her eye, she hissed, "You don't know me." There was a derision in this simple phrase that seemed to chill the room, sealing it off from the heat outdoors. These were words she had used many a time before, to assure herself that she was still, in fact, safe from penetration. They had turned away many a man, and alienated many a helping hand.

However, Castle surprised her by simply shrugging. "Maybe I don't." He watched her levelly, before taking another step in her direction, further closing the gap between them. "But is it a crime for me to want to change that?" There was such strong feeling in his statement, she had to look away to refrain from breaking down, right then and there. The brick wall surrounding her heart was built to last, but not forever. Though she had spent the better part of the last decade adding to it, little by little, she'd never accounted for meeting someone like Richard Castle. From the moment she'd first met him, there had been something peculiar about him that got under her skin like no other. While other people were easily diverted by her mask of indifference, he was like an archer intent on a specific target: her heart.

Rubbing her temples as she did whenever feeling stressed, Kate swallowed hard, choking down the emotion bubbling within her. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe... you won't like what you see?" Her voice was small now, far from the authoritative bark she was known for at the precinct. The insecurities she now displayed for him were heart-wrenching. "I'm not Nikki Heat any more than you are Jameson Rook. On the surface it may seem like a perfect match, but underneath all that, I'm not something you can categorize with a pen and paper." She let these words sink in, finally voicing all the conflicting thoughts she'd been having since reading the novel of discussion. "You can't write me, Castle. I am who I am, and that's beyond your control. Everyone is screwy, you say, and I damn well know that. I'm a cop -- screwy people is how I make a living." She took in a deep, calming breath. This was by no means easy for her, as even before tragedy had struck, she'd been hard-pressed at expressing her feelings. "But me... I'm a different kind of fucked up. The sort that... that isn't right to be a..." She faltered, before whispering, "A mother."

Spurred to act, Rick gently lifted her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look at him. "Hey," he stated softly, noting with a jolt the moisture that made her emerald eyes shine through the darkness. "Don't even think about bringing Alexis into this. You wanna know something?" He paused, absently stroking the outline of her jaw with his thumb. "She adores you. Absolutely, positively idolizes you." A faint smile worked its way onto his face, mirroring the one that Kate had been unable to suppress. "And my mother... Well, as you know, she has an opinion on everything, and has been telling me from the start that if I let you get away, she'll disown me." He chuckled, glad to see that he had somehow managed to get the detective off of the self-deprecating bandwagon she'd been on. "You don't want me to be a pwoor owphan bwoy, do you, Miss Beckett?" Shooting her his most pathetic puppy eyes, he took a page from Oliver Twist in his theatrical impersonation.

Biting her lip to suppress a smile, Kate shook her head, this time good-naturedly. "Why is it that you have to be so damn adorable? I swear to God it's bribery." At his impish grin, she couldn't help but laugh just a little. Still, at the flip-flop her heart did upon seeing his smile, she felt the familiar sensation of panic and apprehension lurking in the back of her mind. The power he had over her, put frankly, scared her shitless. And though she now understood that what they had, whatever it might or might not turn out to be, was worth pursuing... that didn't mean her fear had evaporated. It didn't mean that she wasn't still compelled to run, to pull a Houdini as she had many times before in love. It would be so easy for her to just turn around and walk out the door, too easy.

Easy, for certain, but not right. Not satisfying, not what she knew in her heart she honestly wanted.

Having lost herself in thought, Kate was brought back to reality by a tender hand tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. Her heart skipped a beat, for the expression on Castle's face as he looked at her was one that she had seen solely in movies. It was only a mere moment before the urge to be nearer to him flared up again, and she caught herself drawing away. She wanted things to be different... she wanted him. So, reaching out a faintly trembling hand, the bruised but not broken young woman entwined her fingers with his, and in that gesture said more than she could've with a thousand words.

Almost in awe, Rick gazed at their interlaced hands, and had to admit that this moment topped his list. A smile blossomed on his face that conveyed one emotion, and one only: joy. Looking at Kate, he knew the feeling was mutual, for her expression was one similar to his own. But in her eyes, her beautiful and bright green eyes, he still saw that flicker of fear. It had dimmed, but it was undoubtedly there, and it made him want to sweep her up in his arms until she laughed away whatever was troubling her. Instead, he simply took her free hand in his own and stroked it, inquiring warmly, "What are you thinking?"

Tilting her head to the side a bit, Kate considered his words. There was so much clutter inside her head, sometimes it was difficult for her to even decipher her own thoughts. But she did know what she was feeling, and given that was the closest thing, she decided to go out on a limb and share it with him. "I'm thinking..." She paused, summoning up all of her courage and taking a step closer to him, "that you make me feel better than I have in a long time." The detective smiled a bit shyly, as he beamed with pleasure at her words. She faltered a moment, but was spurred on by the gentle, encouraging way in which he caressed her arm. "And..." A pause. "I'm terrified. Of where this is going... of how it might end..." Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, she added, "We both know that I don't handle loss very well. And I'm just afraid that..." A blockage lodged itself in her throat, a bundle of nerves and emotions that refused to budge.

Seeing her so overcome moved the mystery writer, and made him want nothing more than to comfort her, to banish all her fears, doubts and woes. Pulling her to him, he rubbed her back soothingly, resting his chin atop her head. Kate felt as though she might melt like putty against the warmth of his body, taking in his heavenly scent. It had been so long since she'd been held, she'd forgotten how good it felt, especially in the arms of someone you were discovering new and electrifying feelings for. The way she fit perfectly against him was almost surreal, and made her yearn for more. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she laid her head against his shoulder, and pressed her lips to the smooth skin of his neck. There was no place she would've rather been, and in those quiet moments, she discovered a place that provided her with more safety and contentment than anywhere else she could think of.

Lifting her head, Kate's eyes were heavily lidded, as though she had drifted off to sleep for a moment or two. Smiling up at him in blissful peace, she exhaled slow and deep, only narrowly managing to refrain from nuzzling his chest. The lump in her throat now thoroughly dissolved, she picked up her words from earlier in a soft, rapturous tone. "I'm so afraid that I'll get too attached to you, to Alexis, and then something will happen... You'll be hurt, or our differences will become too much to cope with..." The tranquility left her face and voice as she spoke of all the possible roadblocks, and she unconsciously nestled closer to him as she continued, "I... I don't want to remember how good it feels to have a family, and then have to face being alone again." Sniffling ever so faintly, she blinked back moisture, and turned her face away so that he wouldn't see.

Once again, Rick used a single finger to gently rotate her face toward his. His nose nearly caressing hers, he stroked her hair absently, attempting to reassure her. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he spoke in a calm and even tone. "I can't make any guarantees about what will and won't happen between us, because that just wouldn't be fair." He kissed her nose softly now, and then looked her straight in the eyes as he added, "But what I can promise you, is that you'll never be lonely again. Not tonight, not tomorrow..." The author rested his forehead against Kate's, caressing her nose with his own. His mouth just barely grazed hers, as he finished faintly, "Never."

A single tear rolled down Kate's rosy cheek, as their lips touched for the first -- and certainly not the last -- time. It was sweet and true, their mouthes moving in tandem, an innocent declaration of blossoming affection. But as the seconds ticked by, the inevitable occurred as their embrace grew more passionate, and a fire ignited between the scorching heat of their bodies. Tongues battled for dominance and hands roamed where they pleased, raising the temperature in the room to a tropical level. Rick, swept up in the moment, backed up the tantalizing woman in his arms until she sat perched on the bed, with him between her knees.

Recalling in whose room they were in, Kate gasped out loud as he planted nibbling kisses up and down her neck. Bunching portions of his sweat-soaked t-shirt in both hands, she murmured breathlessly, "Castle..." But he paid no mind to her beckoning, hands starting slowly up her shirt, and pressing his mouth to spots no man had dared near in ages. Trying again, she whispered with all the more urgency, "Castle, please," and clamped her thighs tighter around his waist. Still no response, other than his biting and licking just above the dampness of her bra. "Castle... Oh, God... Think of Alexis... Her bed..." She sighed the words, her mind in a million different places at once, as she writhed in both panic and ecstasy. The detective was dangerously close to giving in, when she felt a hand slide between the wispy material of her panties and the red-hot slickness of her skin.

"Rick!" She half-moaned, half-yelped, seizing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head up. "Every night your fifteen year-old daughter sleeps in this very bed, dreaming of multi-colored ponies and adorable, yipping puppies." Kate's eyes were wild with lust as well as outrage, and her dark locks were disheveled as though a hurricane had whipped through them. Panting, she watched recognition flit across his features, and subsequently loosened her iron grip on his hair. "We are not doing the nasty on the same bed that your child writes her diary entries about becoming the first female president of the United States. Capisce?" The Italian expression rolled off her tongue easily, as she arched a stern brow at him.

"Sì, la mia bella donna." Rick grinned cheekily, as he utilized one of the only two phrases he'd picked up while vacationing in Florence: Yes, my beautiful woman. He admired the little laugh lines that appeared near the corners of Beckett's dancing eyes, as she shook her head at his shamelessness. Unable to resist, he brushed his lips against the endearing crinkles, lingering a bit longer than necessary. He then peppered kisses across the rest of her face, which had broke out into a grin at his playful sexiness.

Placing her hands on his chest, Kate pushed him off only half-heartedly, her tinkling laughter filling the room. "I can't believe you were ready to boink me on your daughter's bed. What kind of perv are you?" The deep, throaty chuckle that drove him wild ensued, as he nipped at her earlobe.

"Mmm, a hungry one," he growled huskily into the soft flesh where her neck met her collarbone, causing her to stir beneath him. Rick then stood up, and pulled the detective right along with him. He simply held her against him for a moment or two, hands on the small of her back. She had just opened her mouth to speak, when he abruptly swept her up in his arms in one deft, swift movement. At her exclamation of surprise, he simply grinned, and proceeded to carry her out the bedroom door.

"I am capable of walking, thanks." Kate patted his cheek offhandedly, then attempted to dismount from his bridal-style transport. She was surprised, however, when he merely tightened his hold on her and kept on going. "Where are you taking me, Castle?" The amused brunette questioned, laughter in her voice.

Rick looked at her as though it were obvious. "Why, my chamber, of course."

"Oh, you have a chamber now. How many times have you used that line, lover boy?" Kate simpered, casually slinging an arm around his neck.

"I don't know," he replied in that low, irresistible voice of his, as he laid her down on the mattress. "How 'bout you tell me?" Looming above her, he kissed both eyelids and then each cheek, hands resting on her hips.

Reversing their positions with an athlete's ease, Kate smirked provocatively at him from above. "How 'bout I show you a thing or two about making this chamber a little more beddable?"

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A/N: Alright guys, this can be the end, or I will keep on going. I have ideas for this story, but also for other ones. What do you think? Keep on going with this one, or start something new -- a sequel, perhaps? Or a whole new concept? You tell me. Many thanks!