Summary: This is an alt-S3 story and explores how things would/could have gone differently if there were not significant others in the way. This will be told through a series of one-shots (or maybe two or three-shots depending on the episode) that will (most likely) not be related. (If they do relate to a previous chapter, that will be notated in the A/N at the beginning of the chapter.)

A/N: If you missed it, I started a new story called "Another Life: Between the Sheets" for the M-rated Almost Famous chapter. The response has been fabulous and there will be at least one more chapter there. (But probably two.)

I was thrilled that with the last chapter, I passed 100 reviews for this story, a first for me. Thank you so much for your support, I love hearing what you have to say. Also, with the posting of this chapter, I'm over 25,00 words and am halfway to the goal of 50,000 for the Castle Ficathon. I think I'll make it!

Extra special thanks to Lou for being the best cheerleader ever and for continuing to have amazing prompts. (This chapter wouldn't exist without her.) And all the awards to Jennifer for putting up with my non-linear brain and catching my mistakes. Like a sentence I stopped in the middle of.


Close Encounters of the Murderous Kind


He talked her into dinner. Not that it was difficult but he thinks that he succeeded in persuading her and he's just so damned proud that it doesn't seem right to let him know that all he needed to do was ask.

That's probably all he's needed to do for a while.

They settle in at a diner, one that reminds Kate of she and her father's favorite, the mix of smells - coffee and bacon grease and whatever today's special is - wrapping her in comfort. It was Castle's pick and not one that she would expect from him. She's starting to expect that from him though, the unexpected. The bits of him that aren't what you see on the surface, in the newspaper. The human bits. Not that he's focusing on anything human tonight.

"Okay, ground rules," she says as they slide into the booth.

He raises his eyebrows at her. "Rules for dinner?"

"Rules for this one," she punctuates with a nod and an index finger poked to the table top. "Well, ok, just one rule: No more conspiracy theories."

"Awwww," he whines, slumping down on the bench with a frown. "You're stealing all my fun."

She opens a menu in front of her face to hide her amusement. "I'm never gonna tell you anyway."

"You're laughing at me, aren't you?"

She lowers the shield to share her mirth with him. "Stop making it so easy," she admits with the shrug of one shoulder.

He opens his own menu, tries to pull a pout but it falls apart around the smile that curves his mouth. "You like my theories."

She makes a show of looking at her watch. "And it only took you a minute and a half to break the rule."

"C'mon, I didn't-"

"Nuh-uh, no talking until we order."

"Mean," he mutters rebelliously before abiding her punishment.

She sneaks glances at him over the top of her menu, glimpses of his creased brow, the slope of his nose, his lips pursed in thought. She feels her face soften, her heart heavy with affection for her handsome dinner companion. It's comforting, this affection. She spent too much of the summer ensconced in heartbreaking despair that the affection is a relief. Because she wasn't sure that she'd ever see him again let alone have the chance to feel this kind of relief.

Much like the relief she felt when they woke up in the car. The panic she had felt under the harsh light receded as she registered his shoulder under her cheek, his heart still beating, his skin warm. She might have taken an extra moment to move, might have hovered by his face for a little longer than was strictly necessary. The urge to press her lips to his in celebration had been a hard one to shove down.

She's still not sure why she resisted.

They place their orders and fall into easy conversation while they wait. Castle recounts his dinner with Ashley's parents and has her in tears of laughter as their food is set on the table, unendingly amused that he called her within earshot of those poor people. She can just imagine their horrified faces as they listened to Castle babble about spies and truth serum and possible alien abductions.

"How fast did they refuse to let their son anywhere near you?" she asks, wiping the drops of moisture from her lower lashes.

"That's the weirdest part, they apparently found me 'fascinating' and are coming with us on the camping trip."

She had just recovered but is overtaken by another wave of giggling laughter that presses her down onto the bench seat as her shoulders shake with amusement.

He's grousing when she sits back up, looks like he's trying to glare at her but her laughter is contagious and he's obviously trying to hide a smile behind his fork as he shoves pieces of French toast in his mouth. He's failing spectacularly but it's cute that he's trying.

"What are you even going to talk about?" she manages to squeak out as she's catching her breath.

He groans, dropping his fork onto his plate and his forehead into his palms. "Don't remind me."

She chuckles at him as she finally tucks into her food but barely has the fork speared into a piece of lettuce when his head raises so sharply that she startles.

"You should come with us!" he exclaims, his eyes bright.

She looks at him incredulously. "Why?"

"You totally speak his language, so when I get overbearing and annoying, you can sweep in and dazzle him with your opinions on deficit spending in economic downturns. Oh, you would make me look so good!"

He's serious. He's actually waiting for her to just agree to come on his family camping trip.

"No, Castle." Shame flames her cheeks unbidden, there's no reason she should feel bad about refusing his ridiculous idea. Yet she does.

"Awww, c'mon, why not?" he whines at her, bouncing in his seat, fists lightly pounding the table. He is literally having a tantrum. An understated one to be sure but still, all this because she had said no.

"Castle, it's a trip with the parents. I'm no one's parent, I have no reason to be there."

He sobers at that, seriousness washing his features of any previously seen immaturity. He nods at her, sadness in his eyes.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just…Just felt like I needed some back up and you're who I always look to for that so, it…made sense in my head." He drops his eyes to the table top, shoulders slumping at the same time.

The warm affection swamps her again, heart full to bursting at his explanation. She reaches across the table for one of his hands, wriggling her fingers into his palm to get him to release the fist his are still curled into. He unfurls them gladly, engulfing her smaller hand with his, looks up at her hopefully.

"I'll make you a deal, if you get bored or run out of topics, you can call or text me anytime, okay?"

A broad smile blooms across his face, the hand surrounding hers squeezing tight for a moment.

"You have yourself a deal."

Joy floods her face, draws the corners of her mouth up, crinkles her nose, fills the lines around her eyes. She loves that she can make him so happy with such a simple offer. She allows herself to revel in the feeling a little longer, the joy overflowing from her and swirling around them, between them, through them.

When the feeling settles comfortably, she slides her hand from his and goes back to her food. They strike conversation back up, easy and normal. Everything back where it should be but somehow a little bit more.


She usually just drops him off at his building but tonight she finds a spot on his block and eases the cruiser in.

"Walk you up?" she offers, not ready to be out of his company.

"Yeah," he replies softly. "I'd like that."

They shoot glances at each other as they walk, as they stand in elevator, each time looking away like they've been caught. It's ridiculous and juvenile and so sweet that her heart takes on that heavy affection yet again, has her hand itching to be cradled in his once more.

He opens the door and sweeps a hand for her to enter, but she shakes her head. "I should get going."

"Oh." The word from his tongue is so laden with disappointment that she almost recants. "Yeah, it's late."

"Still have reports to carefully word tomorrow so it'll be a long day." It sounds pathetic as she says it, as if she's making up an excuse to leave when she would love nothing more than to come in and share a drink with him on the sofa.

"Thanks for coming to dinner," he says with a lift of his lips that she mirrors.

"Sure," she replies demurely, not at all sure that she deserves a thanks for that. "Anytime, Castle."

"I'll remember that." There's an added twinkle to his eyes now.

It makes her breathless to realize again how happy he gets when she agrees to things. Dinner, a compromise on an outrageous request. They're just simple things but they mean so much to him.

He shuffles towards her a step, his movement making her realize that they've just been standing in his hallway grinning at each other.

"Weren't you leaving?" he says softly, a teasing lilt in his tone.

"I – Yeah," she stutters, her feet carrying her a step towards him, the blue of his eyes drawing her ever closer.

"You don't have to." He practically whispers as if he's afraid to say it louder.

"I know." Another step in and she's directly in front of him, so close that their hands brush and she gives into the temptation to slide them together, fingers tangling.

His other hand slides over her hip, the heat of his palm burning into her skin. She tips her face up to his, finds him so close that their noses bump but neither of them pull back. She waits and he leans in to brush his lips to hers, but it's too brief, too chaste. She clutches his shoulder to keep him in place, presses her lips into his fully, feels the spark between them as he responds in kind.

It's not desperate, that's the part that surprises her the most. She thought that when her lips finally touched his it would be in desperation; caught in one of the impossible situations they always seem to find themselves in. She never thought that it would be outside of his home, front door hanging wide open while they explore each other.

He pulls back, not far, just enough to say, "Come inside?" She nods, the ends of her hair brushing against his cheeks.

He walks backward through the door, bringing her with. He steals kisses as he goes, darting in and back out, grinning like a little boy getting away with trouble. She kicks the door closed behind them and he reaches past her to flip the lock, laying claim to her neck as he does. Her knees weaken, his arm banding around her waist to keep her upright, and starts his backward traverse again. He leads the way to the sofa, maneuvering them to lie down in one fluid, impressive movement.

They breathe for a moment, eyes locked, hearts pounding. And then they move, crashing into each other, giving into long repressed desires, months of want melting away with every press of their fingers, every glide of their lips.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, Kate registers a key scraping into the lock, the deadbolt clunking, the handle turning. But her senses are otherwise occupied and it takes an extra few seconds to collect herself, to push his hands down from under her shirt, untangle her legs from his. She hears the heels clicking on the hardwood and the "Richard, are you home?" at the same time he does if the way that his lips startle off her neck are any indication.

"Oh," the pleased voice of his mother is close now. Probably right next to the sofa, not that Kate is willing to look up to find out. "I see you are, I'll make myself scarce."

Kate pushes at his chest to get him to sit up, swinging her feet the floor and burying her face in her hands. She can hear Martha going up the stairs, calling out "Good night, darlings" with a knowing note to her voice. Castle makes a halfhearted attempt to go after his mother and she uses that chance to rise and make her way towards the door.

She's reaching for the handle when he calls out, "You don't have to go."

"I know, but I should," she answers, opening the door as she does. It's cowardly to leave without looking back and she forces herself to turn around, her heart twisting when she sees the slump of his shoulders. She leaves the door open, swiftly closing the distance between them to cradle his jaw in her hands, capture his lips with hers. "We have a lot to talk about," she says as she draws back. "We should do that when we're both thinking clearer."

He nods, "Yeah, you're right."

She searches his face once more, catching his eyes and smiling encouragingly , pleased to see his eyes soften and a genuine smile shine back at her. She steps back, allowing her hands to drop from his face and turns to walk out the door, leaving before she talks herself out of it.


"Still going with 'the government kidnapped me' excuse today? Or do you want to actually claim alien abduction this time?" Ryan asks, smirking at her as she prepares a coffee.

"I told you it's not a hickey," she replies exasperatedly, raising her hand to the right side of her neck, wincing as her fingers make contact with the mark.

"Yeah, um, I was talking about that." He points to the left side of her neck and could swear that she instantly flushes pink.

She claps a hand over the spot and rushes past him out of the break room, heading straight for the bathroom. Ever with the impeccable timing, Castle walks out of the elevator, coffee cups in hand. Her stride hitches then stops, one foot in front of the other in the middle of a step. He can see Castle over her shoulder, frozen in place, his face a mix of trepidation and fear.

"I'm gonna kill you," she hisses at him. She probably intended it to be meant for the writer's ears only but the ferocity in her voice carries the words. Castle's mouth opens and closes noiselessly for a moment before she huffs out a breath and continues on her way.

Ryan barks out a laugh, works hard to stifle it before it builds to full on hysterical laughter but the sound catches Castle's attention, his head snapping up to where the detective is leaning against the doorframe.

"Not hickies, huh?" he comments with the raise of his eyebrows.

He sighs. "We told you guys what happened," he says wearily.

"Oh yeah, I know. Those things yesterday, not hickies. That thing on the other side of Beckett's neck today though?" He draws out the last word, trailing his voice up as he does.

Castle's eyes widen impossibly large and he whips his head around to look at the bathroom door again. "She really is gonna kill me," he breathes.

Ryan doubles over as the laughter overtakes him.


I'd love to know what you think.