I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for reading and supporting this story. I've had some rough patches with it and have wanted to quit more times than I can count but your reviews and encouragement have kept me pushing forward. I appreciate all of you more than I can say.

Kate chokes down a hard gulp of air, her heart landing somewhere near her stomach. All she wants to do is run. It doesn't matter that this is her apartment, she needs to get out.

Gritting her teeth, she stands. Pins and needles shoot down her left leg and her knee buckles, sending her crashing back down onto the couch with a groan. Castle reaches out, her name too soft on his lips, and she holds out a hand, shaking her head.

"Stop."

"Kate -"

"Just stop, Castle."

Tilting her chin up, Kate closes her eyes and breathes slowly through her nose. She counts to ten four times before the pain in her leg fades back into a quiet ache. He's watching her when she opens her eyes again, concern creasing his forehead and weighting down the corners of his mouth.

"Kate," he tries again, canting his body in her direction, "Are you-"

"I think you should go," she says, trying like hell to keep the waver out of her voice.

He's here because of her and she has no fucking clue what to do with that.

"You need to go," she repeats, the steel in her spine hardening with each deep breath. "I read what you sent me; you obviously have enough to write a book. You don't need me."

"Yes, I do."

"Castle."

"Just listen to me, please." There's plaintive note in his tone that borders on desperation and Kate feels her the hair on the back of her neck rise in response. "Hear me out and if you still want me to leave, I will."

She doesn't answer and Castle apparently takes her silence as acquiescence. He sucks in an audible breath, rising chest straining against the front of his t-shirt. Kate stares at him for a moment, her eyes roaming his upper body, looking away when she starts to feel an unwelcome flutter in her chest.

"You're right, I can write about a female superhero running around kicking ass and taking names based off what I know now. It'd be easy to toss together some action sequences and some sex scenes and call it done. But I don't want easy."

"I figured easy would be right up your alley," Kate says, the bite in her tone far less acidic than she'd like.

Castle looks at her, emotions playing over his face far too quickly for her to catch them all. She picks out a flicker of indignation and a half-second of hurt before he blinks himself back into a mask of cool passivity.

"I built a vacation home on that alley," he says on a hollow laugh. "But I'm pretty sure the fact that I'm sitting here demonstrates that easy has become boring for me."

"You're successful with what you already do. Why bother to try to change it now?"

"Because you were partially right in your exceedingly brusque dissection of my books. Up until now, my female characters have been a bit thin and though the damsel in distress trope might sell books, it's both limiting and tiresome." He gives her a wry little grin. "No one could ever accuse you of being a damsel but you are in distress and I want to know why."

The urge to run boils up again and Kate can feel her muscles flexing, fighting the stasis she's forcing upon them. He sees her; he doesn't know the details but he has her pinned and she's terrified because part of her wants to let him in. Wants to let him poke around in her life, leave his fingerprints on the parts of herself she's kept hidden for so long.

"And what? You want to study me like some caged animal? Collect your field notes and turn my life into profit?"

"No. I want to know you. You, not Lone Vengeance."

"I am Lone Vengeance."

Castle sighs. "Lone Vengeance is a part of you but it's not the whole of who you are. You're more than that suit and sword, Kate."

The earnest conviction in his voice makes her nervous system itch, body vibrating with the need to deflect, evade, run. She has to do something, find some outlet for the energy humming in her chest, so she reaches out for the grocery bag still sitting between them on the couch, her fingers twisting through the plastic handles.

Kate can feel his eyes on her, a hot gaze that singes her skin and leaves her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She hates the effect his honesty has on her, each traitorous twitch of her muscles getting harder to hide.

"Okay," he says resignedly, twisting to plant both feet on the floor and scooting toward the edge of the couch, "I'll go." Kate keeps her head tilted down as he stands, her gaze fixed on the ragged edges of an old cigarette burn on the cushion he vacated. "But," Castle adds, resignation replaced by resolve, "you know you're not getting rid of me this easily. I will be back, Kate."

He gets halfway to the door before she speaks, the words tumbling out unchecked and without her consent.

"When I was eighteen," Kate starts, fingers still toying with the bag, the plastic crinkling far too loudly.

Castle turns back toward her and she gathers the courage to look up at him, her stomach churning nervously. His face is impassive but she can see the spark of interest in his eyes, the questions brewing just under the surface.

It makes her want to stop, to kick him out and move, make it impossible for him to find her again. But something, some twisted sense of reciprocity, stops her. He's been open with her today, has given her more honesty than she'd ever thought him capable of, and the need to give something back, to let him in just a little bit more, overwhelms her.

"When you were eighteen -" he prompts after a long pause.

Kate takes a deep breath, her fingers abandoning the handle of the bag to dive inside and pick out one of the packages of mini-donuts, the cellophane slick between her fingers. "When I was eighteen," she starts again, knowing that what she's offering isn't much but hoping that he understands it's all she can give him right now, "I was in a bit of a wild child phase."

"How wild?" Castle asks, coming back to sit on the couch. "Are we talking stealing your grandmother's cigarettes and sneaking out to drink wine coolers in the park or -"

"More like tattoos and motorcycles and boyfriends almost twice my age," Kate laughs, the knot in her chest coming loose as they start to slip back into the easy pattern of banter and sarcasm. She pushes his confession about the reason he's there, the reason he keeps coming back, to the dark recesses of her mind, willfully ignoring the persistent echo pounding in her ears.

"You have a tattoo? Where? Because I've seen pretty much all of you in the past twenty-four hours and I definitely would remember a tattoo." She raises an eyebrow, a smirk curling up the corners of her mouth when he swallows. "Oh."

"It was my senior year of high school," she says, watching the clouds clear from his eyes, "and I had just been dumped by my boyfriend -"

"What kind of idiot would break up with you?"

"Are you going let me tell this story or not?"

"Sorry." Castle picks up his own package of donuts, pulling the wrapper open and stuffing one into his mouth. "Continue," he mumbles, crumbs tumbling down onto his shirt.

Kate nods, shifting to pull her right leg up to her chest, her left still hanging off the couch. "I went a little -" she pauses - "I think crazy is probably the right word for it. It was the first time I'd really had my heart broken and I didn't know how to deal with it."

Castle makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat and she can't stop the thin smile from spreading across her lips.

"After about a week of crying, I decided what I needed was a change of scenery. So I pulled some money out of my bank account, got on my bike, and just started riding. Ended up in New Orleans. During Mardi Gras."

"Please tell me this is going where I hope it is.".

Kate laughs at him, letting herself get lost in the memory. "Pretty much. I discovered Hurricanes and ended up riding down Bourbon Street on a float with about twenty other incredibly drunk and topless girls."

"Topless?"

"Except for the beads."

She watches Castle's eyes drift down to her chest, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly. Taking a deliberately deep breath, Kate bites the inside of her cheek, trying not to enjoy the way he's looking at her.

It takes her by surprise how much she wants him to look at her like this. As if he'd like nothing more in that moment than to devour her. She represses a shiver at the thought, blocking out the images flashing across her mind, pictures of what it would be like to let him pull her shirt over her head and press her down into the couch, let his mouth travel the path his eyes are blazing across her skin.

He snaps out of it after a moment, eyes flying back to her face. "Uh," he stutters, cheeks staining a light pink. "Your parents must not have been very happy about that."

Instantly, Kate feels herself deflate, reality crashing back in. "Yeah," she says, fighting to keep the sudden shock of pain out of her voice, "they were pretty upset."

Castle leans forward, touching the tip of his index finger to her ankle. Heat flares where his skin brushes hers and she has to resist the urge to shy away. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Castle."

Grabbing the Gatorade from the floor, Kate takes a long drink, buying time to pull herself together. Her world was rocked by tragedy over a decade ago and she's yet to find her footing. She thinks about them every day; they're the reason she lives the life she does. But it still knocks the air out of her lungs when her parents are mentioned so casually, the pain flaring from dull to acute in matter of seconds.

"Kate -"

"Castle, I'm pretty tired," she cuts in, closing herself off from the softness in his eyes and the worry in his voice. "I think I just need to lie down."

"Yeah, sure," he says, slowly running the pad of his finger down the top of her foot before checking his watch. "I should probably head home before Alexis gets back from school."

Kate gives him a tiny smile laced with gratitude. The less he pushes and prods, the more she wants to let him in. It scares the hell out of her, feeling like this about a man she barely knows, but it also sends a little thrill of excitement skittering down her spine. And, despite her best efforts, she likes it. Likes him.

Castle stuffs his garbage into the empty bag and stands, arms lifted over his head in a deep stretch. She allows herself a few seconds to look him over, casting her gaze away when he drops his arms and sighs heavily.

"When can I see you again?" he asks, turning back toward her and holding out his hand.

She takes it this time; lets him wrap his fingers around her palm, lets him help support her weight as she stands, her body swaying slightly. Finding her balance, Kate lets go and holds her hand out in front of him, palm up. "Give me your phone."

Castle pulls his phone out of his pocket, brows drawn together in a silent question. Kate quickly creates a contact under her new alias - Emily - and types in the number of her most recent burner.

"Call me in a few days and we'll arrange something." He reaches for the phone but she pulls it back. "You can't let anyone else have this number, Castle. No one can know this is mine. And you can't use it whenever you want. It's -"

"I get it," he says, plucking the phone from her hand and tucking it back into his pocket. "I'm not going to abuse your trust, Kate."

They stare at one another for a long moment and Kate becomes suddenly aware of how close they're standing. She can feel the heat radiating off his chest, can smell the woodsy bite of his cologne. Her eyes flick down to his mouth when he wets his lips, the tip of his tongue pink and tempting. The realization that she wants to kiss him, wants to press her body against his and feel his hands on her skin, hits her hard, a warm rush of arousal pooling low in her abdomen.

Shit.

Blinking, she takes a step back. "You should get home before your daughter files a missing persons report."

Castle chuckles, heat still simmering in his eyes. "She does have a tendency to panic when I'm gone for more than twelve hours."

"Well, with you for a father," Kate says, following him to the door, "who could blame her?"

"Be nice. If it weren't for me, you'd have bled to death last night."

Kate shakes her head and pushes him out into the hall. "Go home, Castle."

With nod and a wave, Castle starts toward the window, his shoes scuffing lightly over the threadbare carpet. She almost has the door closed when she hears him.

"Why'd you tell me that story?"

Swallowing, Kate pulls the door open again. Castle stands in the middle of the hallway, his face half-hidden in shadows and hands hanging loosely by his thighs. Not being able to see his face makes her uneasy, a sour feeling rolling in her stomach.

"Not exciting enough for you?"

"No, it was plenty exciting. But why that story? Why not the first time you rode a bike without training wheels or the time you broke your arm when you were ten or how you crashed your boyfriend's car into a tree when he was trying to teach you how to drive stick?"

"Castle -"

"You could have told me anything but you chose to tell me about the time you got drunk and rode topless in a parade. Why?"

Kate wraps her arms around her torso, fingers fisting in the thin cotton of her tank top. "You said you wanted to know me. I was - I was trying to give you something."

Castle takes a step forward, the light falling fully over his face. She can't read the expression in his eyes but it makes her want to roll her shoulders forward to protect her chest from whatever he's about to say.

"No, you weren't. You were trying to make me think you were giving me something while still holding yourself back." The words are quiet, his voice even and smooth. "Every story you have is a part of who you are but there are hundreds of others that are far more important and meaningful than that one."

He steps back again, turning slowly on his heel and walking away.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, Kate, but please have the decency to not treat me like an idiot."

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated.