Author's notes: The longest chapter to date in thanks for your patience with my slow updates and for your amazing support! Thank you also for the feedback regarding the POV thing. Greatly appreciated.

Before you read this you should know that, as odd as it is for a 19 year old, I don't drink alcohol (or coffee…or tea…or milk…) so I hope my lack of knowledge on the subject does not detract from this chapter.


It had been decided that the writer and detective would go to the Old Haunt a little earlier than the others. A mutual agreement had been made that they would eat dinner there since Beckett's kitchen still had little to offer. A less than mutual agreement had also been made. They couldn't go straight there from work because Castle had to change clothes. He argued that it was necessary because he had bought a large portion of his wardrobe for occasions just like this. Kate had been too tired to argue.

They had caught a cab back across the shadowed city. When she'd tried to take her car he had told her that there was no point in celebratory drinks if you couldn't drink anyway. She only agreed after he had settled on a cab instead of a limo or something else extravagant.

She hadn't remembered The Old Haunt having so much door security but the thought slipped from her mind when his hand came to rest on the small of her back as they entered the building. The leather jacket she wore only came to her waist so it alternated between covering and not covering his hand as it shifted with her stride. His palm was warm against the thin fabric of her shirt. It made her miss the way they use to be with each other. Before her already damaged world split completely in two.

His hand had fallen to the small of her back of its own accord; a habit. His step faltered slightly as he considered the action. This would have been fine in the past, but now, he wasn't so sure. If it were not for her slowing steps that matched his own with the contact, or the fact that it would have become an awkwardly light smack if he instantly removed the hand, he would have pulled away. She didn't seem to mind.

The pair slid into a booth as Rick relished in the fact that Kate had not noticed, or at least had not commented on, the security at the door. When she had agreed to go there he had made a few calls to up the security. In the phony safety of daylight or when she was at work there was not a lot he could do. The detail they'd had on her for the past few months followed her everywhere. He knew she'd spotted them a few times but was yet to acknowledge it. He knew she wouldn't like it the moment he had demanded the department assign the officers. She would consider it a waste of resources; babysitting. He was infuriated when Harrison had suggested that it had been long enough, no one was after her anymore. The detail had continued. This was his place; he wouldn't allow anyone but themselves in if it meant she would be safe. The extra security was really a moderate course of action. He could do something here. He didn't feel completely useless.

Castle waved over one of the waiters by the bar. He'd hired the kid as a favour to Alexis. She met him at a homeless shelter that she had volunteered at one summer. His daughter had insisted that he was the hardest working young man that her father had ever seen. It had worried him at first that his little girl was mingling with homeless twenty-something's, but he had agreed anyway and the guy had not proven her wrong.

"Evening, Mr Castle. Miss Beckett."

The older man smiled at his formality. "Hey, Jake."

"What can I get for you tonight?" Jake flipped open a small notepad and pulled a pencil from the front pocket of his pristine apron.

"Two 'Nikki-Heat-Havocs', thank you."

Castle refrained from looking at the detective in front of him as the waiter finished writing down their order with a nod before moving away. He had been dying to bring her here since he had renamed their regular meal. Overflowing with the excitement to see her reaction, he finally turned to look at her. Disappointment would have been evident on his face if she had been looking at him.

Beckett had her head down, rifling through her purse, brow furrowed. She was not sure whether to be flattered or annoyed that he had named a meal at The Old Haunt after her. Technically, it wasn't after her. It was after Nikki Heat. She knew that. But after all, she was the inspiration for Nikki Heat anyway. It didn't worry her that he had ordered for the both of them. He often did it and he always knew what she wanted somehow. Deciding to ignore it altogether, she slid some cash across the table at him.

He laughed.

She raised an eyebrow and pushed it a little father toward him.

"You're not paying."

"Castle."

"No, Beckett." He shrugged, indifferent. "The boys get free drinks here anyway."

She removed her hand, letting the money sit in limbo on the textured grain of the wooden table top. He did not move to take it, but slid it a little back towards her. They eyed each other off challengingly before her brow scrunched once more.

"Why do the boys get free drinks?"

Busted. "Uh…" Castle stuttered around the slowly forming excuse to cover his plan. "They…um…so do you and Lanie! Whenever you want." He silently commended himself on the save before realising how much that slip could cost him. Both women could handle their liquor. Damn.

A small smile flashed across her features as she nodded in thanks. Attempting to avoid any more discussion on the topic, the writer turned to look out across the room. He hadn't changed the place a lot since he'd bought it. Part of the reason he had taken up ownership had been to save the rustic air the place had always had. As his eyes cast across the figures hunched at the bar and to the silhouettes of dancing couples, he wondered what their stories were. That was another reason he had bought the place; the stories. So many stories.

The building itself held its own mysterious tales of many years listening in on the crowd. Shiny leather seats accustom to regulars and an ear to those that simply pass through. Lamps with old shades that cast a moody blanket around the bar. Mismatched picture frames covering every inch of wall where the greats sat and watched over the visiting souls. Yes. He loved this place.

His gaze fell back on her after they saw the uniforms in a nearby booth, completing his scan of the room. He watched as she steadied a coin between both thumbs before spinning it across the table. She watched it intently with an expression that was on the verge of being completely blank and completely concerned. If that was even possible.

The coin looked like a solid ball as it spun so quickly that it was no longer a flat object. Its shiny surface caught a stray beam of the dim light from overhead and it glinted before hitting a nook in the table top which sent it in a wide arc. Rick caught it just in time as it jumped from the table's edge, overcome with the sadness of being separated from its friends in her purse.

Castle held it out to her and she took it, their hands joint in a light touch for longer than necessary. The spinning resumed but she was careful to keep the coin contained so that it would not reach the edge again.

"What did you say to Harrison?" She didn't look at him but he noticed that her eyes were no longer focusing on the coin that she stared at.

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes flicked up to meet his before falling back to the table. "You know what I mean. She wouldn't have said 'good job' unless you said something to her. The case was standard; nothing extraordinary about it. So what did you say?"

Her voice was low and level but her expression made him feel as though he could be in trouble. The truth was always the best response when she was like this.

"I just told her to give you a chance."

Giving up on the coin, she covered it with her palm so that it fell with a soft thud to the table. It wouldn't have been audible at all over the bustle in the bar except for the fact that the two occupants of this booth had fallen completely silent.

She looked at him and found nothing but devotion on the face that she had been about to scorn for interfering. Really, she knew she shouldn't have expected anything less. After all he had defended her many times before. He'd stood by her.

A look he recognised as acceptance with a touch of thanks pulled across her features and he knew it was in place of the words she could not say. He matched her with a look that spoke more words than even his vocabulary was capable of.

He didn't know how much time passed as they held a conversation which would have looked like a staring match to anyone watching. Jake reappeared without either of them noticing and had placed their meals in front of them. The pair sat aimlessly picking at their chicken parmigiana with its tomato sauce arranged in the shape of a dead body, like they drew on the pavement at murder scenes. That explained the new name. Finally, the writer spoke.

"I won't be at the precinct tomorrow." After the conversation they'd just had, his words were tainted with apology. He wouldn't be there with her. For her.

"Alexis finally convinced you to stop putting your life in danger?" Kate's words were accompanied by a sad chuckle which told him that she knew she was wrong, even if she hoped she wasn't.

Castle couldn't see the amusement. They'd fought about this so many times lately. Both his daughter and mother begged him to stop following the detective. She agreed with them. He was not a cop. He was not one of the heroes from his novels. He could get hurt. They needed him.

What they didn't understand was that he couldn't stop. His life would go back to being mediocre if he stopped playing cops and robbers now; if he left her. He would take the risk.

"We're going to a sci-fi convention. It's tradition, we've gone every year since Alexis was nine."

She smiled at his inner child. "Are you guys dressing up?"

"Ah, dear detective, that is for me to know and for you to never find out!"

The cheeky grin she loved to wipe off his face appeared but before she could act upon that desire a shadow fell across their nearly finished meals.

"Are you party people ready for a night of celebration?" Ryan was all teeth as he grinned down at them.

"Bro, 'party people'? Really?"

"You say 'party people'!"

Esposito glanced towards the medical examiner beside him. "I do not."

"I've heard you, man."

"I have never said 'party people'!"

Lanie slid into the booth next to her friend with a disbelieving nod towards the two arguing men. "What are we drinking?"

"Anything you want. We get free drinks, right Castle?" Beckett looked at him pointedly.

He nodded, his lips pulled into a pained line. "Mmhm."

Sometime later the group of five stood around one of the large pool tables in the back of the bar. They'd already played a few games; the winners would verse each other. Of course, Beckett and Castle had won each round they played and now stood glaring at each other across the wide span of green velvet. Jake had made multiple trips to the group already so the tension that had hung over dinner was long gone.

Beckett spun the long length of the cue between her palms as she analysed the table in search of her next shot. She spotted the perfect play.

"You're going down, Writer Boy."

She laughed like the devil and it made his blood run cold and hot all at once. He would have sworn that more of the buttons on her shirt had been closed before. A lump formed in his throat as she bent one knee and leaned low over the table at the hips. The cue rested on her knuckles and she pursed her lips in concentration. They were slightly swollen from the alcohol. Yep, she definitely had more buttons before. That woman would be the death of him.

With a sharp jab to the white sphere, a ball hit the opposite side of the table right in front of his crotch. The man winced and inhaled a sharp breath as he watched the ball rebound and smack another right into the abyss she had been aiming for. Castle took a long sip from his glass and he watched as the foam from his beer clung to the almost empty edges. He never would have let this turn into a drinking game if he knew she would make so many shots.

She ignored the sight of Ryan and Esposito each slipping Lanie a $10 note. It was hardly fair of her friend to bet against them when she knew how good Kate was at pool. With a glance at her opponent, the woman hoped that the ME would start betting the other way. She took her next shot and missed. Deliberately.

"Damn." Kate faked disappointment. Letting him win would be acceptable if it meant she didn't have to clean up the mess later. She'd done it far too many times with her father in the past. She didn't want to taint her image of Castle with that experience. He looked a little clammy and she knew he'd be too proud to surrender.

"Uh huh! Not so great now are you?" He leered, smug.

Lanie's exasperated cry served as a distraction for the almost grinning detective. "Oh, man! Come on girl, I bet money on that shot!"

"Sorry." Kate shrugged apologetically at her friend before turning back to Rick. Rick Castle, the man whose midnight blue shirt kept stretching tight across his biceps with each calculated play. The same shirt that made his eyes appear even bluer than usual when she tried to ignore his heated look as she leaned purposefully low over the table. She hoped that her audience would mistake the colour in her cheeks as an effect of the alcohol and not the effect he was having on her. "Your turn."


Author's Notes: Hit the review button down there and let me know what you want to see. More dialogue? Less dialogue? More cheese? Less cheese? More drama? More luuurve? More humour?

In relation to the picture of younger Beckett that was mentioned in the last chapter, I found a young actress who I swear looks like a mini Stana Katic! Kind of, anyway…it's a bit hard for a teeny bopper to parallel such a being. PM me and I'll send you a link to a post about it on my tumblr…or google Alexandra Coppinger. Tell me someone else can see the similarities?