A/N: Hope everyone's 2015 is off to a good start.

Chapter 10: Kate Beckett, Fangirl

Castle pays for dinner and then they make their was through the crush surrounding the bar to the front door of Raoul's, pausing in the overheated entryway to don their coats and gather their belongings.

Kate has the gift box, with her freshly signed copy of Rising Heat inside, tucked beneath her arm when Castle ushers her out into the cool, dark street ahead of him. His fingers brush the small of her back, caressing the cotton of her shirt beneath her short leather jacket for the briefest of moments, sending a full-body shiver right through her, from her scalp down to her toes.

"Here. Let me," he says, gently prizing the box out of her grasp to carry it for her. "Where to now?" he wonders aloud, looking up Prince Street towards Sullivan and then down towards Thompson and West Broadway.

"I don't care," Kate shrugs, feeling distracted, even a little agitated. "I mean, I don't mind," she amends more softly, needing to tell him something before they go any further. "Castle, you have to hear this first. You have to listen to me."

Before she can say anymore, a rowdy group of patrons spills out of Raoul's, flooding the dark sidewalk like an oil slick, forcing them apart. Castle motions for Kate to follow him, and she skirts the pool of revelers to join him en route to West Broadway.

Before they meet the intersection with Thompson Street, Kate catches Castle by the crook of his arm, slowing him down, eventually turning him towards her when they reach a dead stop outside H&H Kim, an immaculately stocked Korean bodega on the corner.

They stand next to a bountiful display of flowers, their long stems tightly packed into white plastic buckets, colorful heads nodding in time to the breeze beneath the plastic awning that shields them from an open sky. Kate bites her lip, letting her hand fall from Castle's jacket to loll at her side before she speaks. When she's sure she has the words she needs, as well as his full attention, she begins.

"Do you have any idea what your books mean to people? What they meant to me? Do you?" she jabs, her voice strained with accusation.

Castle frowns, this piece of news evidently not at all what he was expecting. "I…I always thought you tolerated Nikki. Okay, maybe it's better now, but—"

"Castle, after my mom died Derek Storm was the single bright spot in my life at the end of every dark, crappy day."

He almost drops the gift box containing his latest book, managing to catch it with both hands at the last second. He hugs it to his chest in an unconscious gesture of self-comfort, afraid to get his hopes too high in case he has somehow managed to mishear or even misconstrue her last remark: a true confession if ever he heard one.

"What?"

Kate ignores the shocked, slightly bewildered look in Castle's eyes, choosing to plow right on with the only words she believes might reach him tonight.

"I read and re-read those books until the dust jackets were hanging off." Kate glances away down the street and then she turns back to look him right in the eye. "Castle, your books saved my life."

He looks more blindsided than pleased, and certainly not the cocky, egotistical author she expected to see when she finally confessed how far back her love of his work extends.

"I...I don't know what to say."

"So…maybe just listen," she suggests, her voice softened and a little exhausted by this unplanned release of emotion, this disclosure of such personal secrets. "Those books…your books— Castle, they were among the few things I kept after my mom died."

"Why have you never told me this before?"

"You've never threatened to stop writing before."

Kate crosses her arms over her chest, the leather of her jacket creaking as she does so. On this point she is firm – his writing has value, to her and to many, many others. He needs to understand that before they go any further. She will not be responsible for silencing Richard Castle, not after she endured so much to give him his voice back.

"Mm," he hums, looking at his feet, suddenly feeling ashamed of his self-indulgence.

"Tell me more about your mom?" he asks, after a quiet moment passes between them.

"Her Richard Castle novels and this engagement ring," she tells him, fishing the silver chain out of her shirt and dangling it in front of him. Streetlight catches her mom's ring, flaring for a second until it sways back the other way and the glint disappears. "Those and my precious memories of her. They were her legacy. And that was pretty much all I needed."

Castle takes a step back, and then he turns in a restless circle before halting a little distance away from her. "I had no idea," he says, shaking his head in disbelief, sounding wiped out as he rakes his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should consider your readers before you decide that what you write, what you publish, isn't worthwhile." Kate softens her voice before she continues. "Don't dishonor what you've created…what we created because you were hurt and scared. Your contribution is valuable, Castle. Far more valuable than you realize."

"Obviously," he interjects, toeing a dirty pink patch of gum with his shoe.

"Castle, you can't stop writing. Not ever. Not for anything. Understand? Whether I'm around or not."

She stares at him, willing him to get it, to understand what his words do for her, what they have done for countless other people too. "It's who you are. And you can't stop being who you are, anymore than I can stop being who I am."

When she stops talking, running out of words, since what she's just said goes far above and beyond her usual willingness to share, Castle raises his head to look at her. A new light of determination shines in his eyes

"Kate, you were…are my inspiration. That's still true. Despite everything. That's what I realized after you left last night."

"And that's a good thing, I hope?" she asks tentatively.

"Yes. Yes, it's a great thing," he agrees, nodding vigorously. "By the time you left the loft I had all these words running round inside my head. After weeks and weeks of stone dead silence. I went into my office, sat right down and started to type. It was after three before I finished."

"And the phone call?"

"Ah, the phone call," he nods, a sheepish smile curling his lips.

"Yes…that. Who'd you call after I left?"

"The only friend I knew would still be awake. I called Bob."

"Bob? Bob Weldon? You called the Mayor?"

"Yup."

Kate narrows her eyes. "Just what did you two talk about?"

"I needed a way back into the precinct. A way around Gates."

"I gathered as much today. Was that all? Gates…the precinct?"

Castle bows his head. "Not exactly."

"I think you'd better explain."

Castle sighs in resignation, choosing to do as she asks. "Bob called after you were shot. He wanted to offer his support. He and Katrina…he mentioned they were going through a rough patch."

Kate frowns and shakes her head. "I don't—"

"We talked…periodically over the last few months. He wanted updates on your condition at first. When he realized I knew no more than he did—"

"I'm sorry," whispers Kate, tipping her head down, realizing how humiliating it must have been for Castle to explain to his friend that he'd basically been abandoned by his NYPD partner.

"Anyway, their rough patch just got rougher. We consoled one another, I guess. Not so's you'd know, being guys n'all." Castle flashes her a brief, sheepish smile when he says this. "But it helped in some strange way, even though you and I weren't…aren't Bob and Katrina."

"So what happened last night?"

"I called to ask for his help with Gates. Told him you'd come back to work…nothing more than that," he assures Kate.

"What did he say?"

"He promised he would make a call. And then he told me that Katrina had filed for divorce."

"Oh," murmurs Kate, letting her hands drop to her sides.

"Yeah. You know what else he told me? He said that if I loved you, I shouldn't give up without a fight. He said he gave up on his marriage too easily, and he regrets it every day."

Kate's head shoots up and she turns to stare at Castle.

"Stupid people don't get elected Mayor of New York City*, Kate. So I decided to listen. For once I decided to listen."

TBC...

NOTE: *Can I just say that Bob Weldon is a fictional Mayor. I know some of you might consider Bill de Blasio an ass right now. Please don't flame me for that.