Chapter 7:

After they finished their last drinks, Danny left a tip under the empty glass (despite Kate's assurances that it wasn't necessary) and they stood to leave the bar. Danny flung his arm good-naturedly around Kate's shoulders as they made their way to the door.

Kate looked around the bar searching for that familiar brown head, and finally found him talking to a few patrons seated at a table for four. He seemed to be able to sense her stare or something because moments later he looked up and they made eye contact across the room. She gave him a small wave with her hand half raised and he returned it with an equally small nod of his head.

She turned back and leaned further into Danny's embrace, wrapping her arm low around his waist.

Smiling down at her, he asked, "Can I walk you home?"

She laughed, "Only if you want to be walking for the entire night. I live too far. How about you walk me until we get tired and we will take a cab the rest of the way."

"Sounds good." They walked onto the dark streets of New York, quiet in their content.

For three blocks they continued in their comfortable silence before Kate felt the need to speak. "Are you going to start your art again? I'm betting there wasn't much time or opportunity for it overseas."

"I'm hoping too. I know it won't be anything I can live off of, but I've realized it's something I can't really live without."

She understood and remained quiet in an encouragement for him to continue. He did.

"You used to be my favorite subject, you know."

"I know." She smiled, fondly remembering the many hours he had spent asking her to pose for him and the hours she had spent complying. He was incredibly talented and she always felt more beautiful in the pictures he drew of her than she ever did looking in a mirror.

"I've still got all of them. Or at least most of them."

"Really?"

"Of course. It's not like I would ever sell them. Not that anyone would buy my stuff."

"Oh, don't be modest. You know they would if you just put your work out there."

"Even so," he looked down at her again with a devilish smile, "I wouldn't want some of those pictures in just anybody's hands."

"Don't even try and make me blush, Danny. There isn't a single picture you've drawn that I'd be embarrassed about. If I remember correctly—and I'm positive that I do—my clothes never came off."

He laughed. "I was joking, Cherries. Just joking. We were too young for that kind of stuff. I don't think my hormonal little body would have been able to handle you…in all your glory."

It was her turn to laugh, "I bet you still wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Challenge accepted!"

"Hold on there a minute, Fly Boy. I'm not dropping my pants for you."

"I'm just saying, the offer is open. And you know it wouldn't be about anything but the art. You're like my sister."

"True enough."

They continued on their walk towards Beckett's side of the town, talking lightly of many things. Danny told her about his plans to use his savings to buy a small plane and fly people around the upper east coast for tourism. The money in that industry was good and he would have a place to use his experience as a pilot. Plus he could pick his hours and focus on his art whenever he wanted to.

Kate shared some of her highlight cases with him. The funny ones, the crazy ones, the life-threatening ones. Castle was a star of every story and when Danny pointed this out, she shrugged and told him he was her partner, of course he had been there. But from then on, she was much more self conscious about bringing Castle up in her stories. She tiptoed over parts where he featured heavily.

It wasn't that she was embarrassed or thought Danny would be jealous, but she already had trouble admitting to herself how important Castle was in her life. It was even harder to do it in front of another person.

She couldn't quite bring herself to talk about her mother's case yet either. The night had been passing pleasantly, and the mood just didn't seem right to bring up something like that. She would tell him eventually. He would want to know. But tonight she wanted to keep things light.

Her feet had started to hurt in her heels after the hour of walking so she slowed down, stopping near a streetlamp. Leaning up against it she told Danny she was tired and they should both head home. He agreed and waved his hand out to the street to flag down a cab. None came.

She smiled at him with trickster's glee and held one hand out easily towards the street. Two cabs immediately stopped at the curb near her, both wanting to take her wherever she wanted to go. She smiled over her shoulder as she took the first cab.

"Well that worked out well. Now we don't have to share and go out of the way."

"You, my dear friend, are quite an impressive woman. I have never seen that happen in my life."

She replied with a smirk out the window, "Really? It's the only way I know how."

He turned to get into his own cab, but she called to his retreating form.

"Hey. I'm going to take you up on your offer."

"To draw you?"

"Draw, paint…whatever you want. You need to get back in the swing of things, and I'm going to help you."

His smile lit the night. "Tomorrow good for you?"

"Just name the time and place. I'll be there unless a body drops."

She gave the cross streets for her apartment to the cabbie and set off into the night.

Castle had watched Kate and Danny leave the bar, wrapped around each other and the tug in his gut was all too familiar. In all honesty, he knew nothing was going on between the two. But that didn't stop his extremely cruel imagination from running wild with scenarios of them sharing a cab to her place, realizing their long lost love for each other, and then…well…even his imagination wasn't malicious enough to allow him to picture what would follow. It was a self-preservation thing. His imagination knew it would probably kill him to think of Kate like that with another man.

They had left at ten. Brian was supposed to clock in at that time and Castle eagerly awaited the young man's arrival. He wanted nothing more than to sit alone in the basement with only his thoughts, Heat Rises, and a bottle of scotch. At 10:05, Brian burst through the doors and headed straight to the bar where Castle was standing.

"I'm sorry I'm late, won't happen again."

"It's fine. I had it covered. You okay to cover it all by yourself tonight? I'm gonna head downstairs."

"Yes, sir."

Castle nodded his thanks, grabbed the desired bottle of scotch and made his way down the stairs in the back. He had confronted Brian about skimming the bar's earnings almost immediately after he had bought the place. He wanted to keep the kid around, but didn't want to deal with somebody stealing. Or, perhaps more correctly, didn't want to deal with someone who thought they could get away with stealing. He had upped Brian's pay a bit to help with his financial woes. He didn't feel too bad for the kid, though. With a smile like that, he would never want for tips.

Relaxing into the couch in his office, Castle pulled out his laptop and opened up the final chapter of Heat Rises. Pouring a very small amount of the amber liquid into a glass he sat down to write. Swirling it around until it formed a tiny little tornado, he tapped his fingers on the keys, not hard enough to type letters, but enough to make satisfying little clicky noises.

Sitting at his keyboard, his thoughts came alive. They transformed from musings into very clear and detailed images. Pictures that begged to be described. Story's that demanded to be told. Unfortunately for Richard Castle, the images in his head tonight had nothing to do with Nikki Heat and the resolution of her latest case, and everything to do with Kate Beckett and her mysterious past. Those thoughts he had successfully kept at bay earlier that night came flooding with a vengeance into his consciousness.

They came mostly in flashes, but each one burned into his mind like a lit cigarette. Danny's hands were all over her. Running up her back, stroking up her thigh, gripping in her long, brown hair. It made his stomach churn as if the small amount of scotch he had indulged was only getting hotter as it sat in his stomach. Their mouths were hot as they collided together and the noises she was making were almost more scarring than the visions that pounded against his mind. All together, he was sure they were driving him into insanity.

He gripped the empty glass he held tightly and set it down a little too forcefully on the table. What was he doing? He didn't want to be that guy. Drinking away the imaginary visions of the woman he would never have with a man she wasn't even with? This was ridiculous!

He slammed the bottle on the side table next to the glass and stood. It might have made more sense for him to be jealous of their friendship. Petty, yes. But at least it would have been founded in actual solid evidence. Expecting every man that Beckett talked to or had a history with to be "more than friends" with her was just ludicrous and a little insulting. He had to get a grip on himself before he let the new guy get to him.

Sure they had walked out of the bar together, arms wrapped around each other. Sure she let him call her Cherries. Sure the man was absurdly attractive and impossibly tall. But that didn't have to point towards love or sex or whatever. Besides, no matter how much he wanted to resent or dislike Danny, he had to admit, the guy was charming. Someone he would have been friends with if the situation with Beckett had been any less confusing. The man had a collection of Green Lantern comic books, for goodness sakes. That had to mean he was at least in the top two percent of people worth getting to know.

Before he had even realized it, he was behind the wheel and on his way home. The Old Haunt wasn't too far from where he lived and Castle spent the entire drive on autopilot. He tried to reconcile his feelings about Danny and about Danny and Kate. He didn't dare open the box in the back of his mind labeled "Feelings About Kate". That one was rigged to explode and destroy his sanity.

He slipped the loft key into the lock and a succession of clicks and tumbles came from within. Walking into the living room and setting the keys on an end table, he processed the sight of a wash of red hair draped over the end of the couch. As he neared it, the sleeping form of his daughter became clear.

He brushed one hand over her silky hair and whispered for her to wake up so she could make her way to her comfortable bed.

"Alexis. Pumpkin, wake up."

"Dad? What time is it?"

"About midnight."

"Ugh, Dad. You smell like alcohol."

"I only had a little. I worked the bar most of the night"

"Having delusions of Cocktail again? Imagining yourself as Tom Cruise?"

"Yes, but taller and significantly less crazy."

Alexis bit her lip and looked straight into his eyes. He knew that look. She wanted something and was afraid to ask for it. Steeling himself for the conversation about why tattoos were a bad idea or what the best brand of condoms were for beginners and why she would never ever be allowed to go to a drug store without supervision, he gave her a look that told her to just spit it out.

"I want to come into the precinct on Monday."

Not what he had expected.

"I don't know, Sweetie. That's more Detective Beckett's call than mine. And no matter how many death scenes you've read and edited over the years, you know I'm a little uncomfortable exposing you to real world murder."

"But, Dad. It's for school and I really, really need it." She took a deep breath and then started talking in that incredibly fast way that only teenage girls are capable of. "I have to write a research paper for my AP Government class. They are demanding that I have at least seven primary sources and there have to be at least THREE different types! I mean, it normally wouldn't be a problem. I've done this a million times. But I just...I can't...I need to get this done, Dad. It's ridiculous. I know they're trying to prepare us for college and all, but we have AP tests coming up soon. Not to mention finals for our non-AP classes. And you know, I also want to have some semblance of a life! But Mr. Davids is not taking any excuses and won't even accept the paper if our cited sources aren't what he's asking for."

Castle could barely keep up. He nodded noncommittally "Mmhmm."

"Anyway. I was just thinking that maybe one of my types of primary source could be an interview with Detective Beckett? Or maybe even the Captain, but I know he's busy, so probably not. I'd take any of the officers in the precinct. Really, Dad. I'm desperate."

"Did you wait up on the couch just to ask me this?"

"Yes."

"And is there a reason you couldn't ask me tomorrow?"

"Well…no. Not really. I just am really stressing about this and I would have liked to just…get this one thing out of the way."

"We can talk about it more tomorrow. I think I'm okay with it as long as you aren't asking to shadow a murder scene or anything. Only crazy people would do that."

She smiled a sweet smile at him and rolled her eyes. "Nope. Just an interview, Dad. That's it, I promise."

"Well, I'll call and ask Detective Beckett tomorrow if it would be okay with her for you to come in."

She threw her arms around him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

And then she was gone, running up the stairs to get into bed. Castle still couldn't believe he had a daughter that could get so stressed out about school stuff that she would let it get to her like this. Castle, himself, had been a good student. He liked to put on a show that he had been a troublemaker (which he had been) who never paid attention in class, but the truth was, he had always liked school. Maybe not school, but learning.

It didn't surprise him that Alexis had such a thirst for knowledge. It was a lot like his own. But teenage Richard Castle never would have gotten so wrapped up in schoolwork and grades. He had been a bit more preoccupied trying to get himself wrapped up in anything wearing a cheerleading skirt. He had had to work much harder to get the girls back then, sans fame and fortune.

He smiled at the funny way life worked out. Now he had all the money in the world and the only girl he wanted didn't really care. Not that he wanted her. No. He was going to keep on with his daily routine of ignoring any inkling of feelings he had towards Kate. Every single emotion he had felt tonight was going to get filed deep into the recesses of his brain in the "Feelings About Kate" box. A box that dangerous hadn't existed since Pandora.

He made his way to his downstairs bedroom and flopped on the bed. Kicking off his shoes over the edge, he pulled the covers over himself fully dressed. He vowed to brush his teeth extra thoroughly in the morning and before he knew it, sleep was blissfully taking him away into a far less complicated and confusing world of dreams.

A/N: I think this chapter bugs me the most out of all of them. Castle's reaction was…complicated to write. I feel like he really is a rational guy beneath it all. I want him to realize that there probably isn't anything actually happening between Danny and Kate. His gut reaction is jealousy (just because he's had the experience of having handsome men sweep her away from him twice in the past), but I want his logic to tell him he's being stupid. I think it's more realistic that way?

For those of you who nerded out with me about the Green Lantern stuff or are just obsessed with Nathan Fillion (which is everyone, I'm assuming), here is a present! Just type in "Green Lantern Trailer Fan Made" into YouTube and click on the video by jaronpitts.

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