Setting: early in episode 3x01 (A Deadly Affair)

Sitting in the interrogation room, Richard Castle tapped his fingertips against the table impatiently, his eyes trained on the door. He hated waiting—especially waiting in that room with his wrists shackled together and no cell phone to play with. It was far from his first time in the box—not even his first waiting for Kate Beckett in there—but something seemed…off. He'd had plenty of time to observe—fifteen or twenty minutes, he guessed—and it looked different. Then again, maybe it was just because he hadn't seen it in several months.

This whole thing was ridiculous, really; blown way out of proportion. Beckett knew he didn't kill anyone; that was absurd! She was annoyed with him—mad, probably, and he couldn't blame her. He should have called her at the end of summer, but he just wasn't in the right place. His summer had gone okay writing-wise insofar as the fact that he met his deadline. Personally, however, it was a bit of a disaster, and with her probably super happy with what's-his-face he wasn't yet ready to see her, but not at least calling to check in? Yeah, that was his fault.

Finally, just as he was about to start banging his cuffed wrists against the table to stave off mind-numbing boredom the detective breezed through the door like a breath of fresh air. He smiled at her. "You look good."

She pulled out the chair across from him, sat down, folded her hands together and rested them on the table. "You look good, too." A beat went by and he was just about to open his mouth and produce a smug response when she continued with, "for murder."

He rolled his eyes. Okay, okay—he deserved the punishment. He'd have preferred if she just came right out and yelled at him, but as man who appreciated a little drama now and then, the pomp and circumstance was a nice touch. "C'mon Beckett you know I didn't kill anyone."

She opened the folder she set against the table, her all-business attitude showing more than ever. "No, I don't know that. Let's start with your whereabouts."

He sighed and leaned his forearms against the table. Fine, he'd go through it all with her, but the ache in his wrists was really setting him on edge. "Can you at least take these off?" he asked, holding up his joined hands. Her steely expression didn't waiver, so he softened his and pouted his bottom lip a little. "Please? C'mon, you put them on really tight."

Her gaze remained steady for thirty seconds before she rolled her eyes and stood, reaching into her back pocket presumably for the key. "Fine; if you're going to complain about it."

He grinned and extended his arms so she could reach more easily. "Thanks, Beckett, I really-"

"Where's your Timer?"

He blinked as her words made no sense. "What?"

She grabbed his right hand and forced it to turn so his palm faced the ceiling. She smoothed her opposite thumb across his bare wrist with an expression of disbelief. Gazing up to him wide-eyed, she continued. "You had it removed?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your Timer."

"I never had a Timer."

"Yes, you did."

"No...?" His voice rose as though his statement was a question for he was thoroughly confused. He had never had a Timer. Hell, he'd never even really considered getting one—not seriously. Yet, the detective seemed incredibly convinced that he possessed such a device, which seemed very odd as she was rarely wrong.

The detective's hands went limp causing her to drop the handcuff key, where it landed against the metal table with a clink. She slowly sat back down in her chair as she stammered. "But…but you—you said—and you…"

Castle helped himself to the key and swiftly unlocked his left handcuff and then pushed both cuffs and key back across the table to the detective, who looked paler than she had when she walked in the room. "Beckett? Are you okay?"

He heard her whisper out, "Oh god," beneath her breath and his brow wrinkled. This, clearly, was not part of the show she put on with the cuffs; this was genuine—but why? How?

"What's going on, Kate?"

As though his use of her first name had snapped her out of the trance, she cleared her throat, sat upright in her chair and turned back to her file folder. "What's going on is that you're under arrest for murder."

The statement of the charge didn't even register in his mind. All he saw was her deflecting for the thousandth time and he wasn't going to let it slide. "No. No—you're not changing the subject that quickly. Why did you think I had a Timer? Why even bring up Timers unless…" The wheels of his brain started to turn. She was upset and confused upon realizing that he didn't have a Timer. She thought he had a Timer. If she thought he had a Timer then maybe—

In one swift motion, Castle rose from his seat and shot both his hands out to grip her right hand. She managed to yelp out a, "No!" but it was too late; his grip was too strong even though she tried to pull her arm back. He wrestled up her sleeve and gasped when he saw the rectangular metal object. "You got a Timer!"

She yanked her arm away from his grasp and glared at him so viciously that he actually swallowed hard on reflex. "Sit down Mr. Castle or I'll cuff you to the table. Now, let's talk about our victim."

Two men, standing with arms folded over their chest, were waiting when the duo emerged from interrogation.

"Not our guy?"

"Really, Kevin?" Castle replied sounding as irritated as ever.

Kate fought the urge to smile at her college's dig, but managed to keep her lips straight. Shutting the door to interrogation behind her, she turned to the writer. "You're free to go, Mr. Castle."

He looked at her as though she'd just canceled his much-anticipated field trip to the zoo. "Wha—oh no. Not until I get some answers."

Though her heart rate increased slightly, she pretended that she did not know what he was talking about as she tucked her case folder under her arm and walked towards her desk. "I'm in the middle of a case."

Predictably, he followed her. "Great, I'll help you solve it then we can talk."

She set the folder on her desk and turned to face him, arms crossed. "No. That's not how this works anymore; you left."

"I took the summer off."

She rolled her eyes and turned towards her computer to check for incoming emails. "To frolic with your ex-wife—I'm aware."

"Wha...is that why you got a Timer? Are you jealous?"

Kate let out a blip of laughter so violent she almost coughed. Folding her arms in a challenging position once more, she looked at him. "Jealous? Of you and your ex-wife? Yeah, right. I am curious, though—does she make you do everything on a deadline?"

He met her dig with a pleased expression. "You are jealous, but why? Aren't you with…?"

His voice drifted off and she turned away from him, her back stiff.

Of course the writer read her body language easily. "You broke up with Demming? When?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Kate."

"I'm busy, Castle. I have a murder to solve, remember?" With that she pulled out her desk chair so aggressively that two wheels spun around and rattled against the hard floor. She plopped her body down and stared intently at her computer, completely ignoring Castle even though he remained beside her desk. She didn't have time for him—not that day and maybe not ever again.

Castle met up with his partner in the break room just as she reached towards the espresso machine. He swooped in and took over her spot, happy to make her the beverage that was her favorite. She offered a soft thank you, but otherwise said nothing, and simply hovered by the sink a foot away. "So," he began once the noise of frothing the milk had ended, "are we going to talk now?"

"Talk about what?"

He flicked his gaze towards her. Given how icy the atmosphere had been between them over the prior two days he estimated they had around a dozen things to talk about, but now that their suspects were behind bars, they needed to focus on the most pressing. Her drink made, he passed it over and asked, "Why'd you think I had a Timer Kate?"

She cradled the cup in her hands as she gazed at him. "Because you said you did—in an interview maybe five or six years ago. You told the interviewer that it showed dashes and then you looked at the camera and said, "That's right, ladies - if you don't already have a timer we could be a match.'"

"Oh shit." The writer cursed and shook his head. He had completely forgotten about that incident until she mentioned it. Of all the luck he had…for her to see that interview and recall it in such detail; he was a moron! "That was...ah, right as my marriage to Gina was imploding. I was using a Timer as a gimmick to pick up women; it was a fake."

"Classy."

He shrank under her comment. Yep, he was definitely a moron. "Not my proudest moment." Somewhat in his defense, he'd only used the stick-on Timer for a few months before realizing it was a really dumb idea. One of the floozies he'd hooked up with came to him devastated because she'd purchased a Timer implant and hers showed a countdown clock and it had been a painfully awkward not to mention slightly upsetting experience. Even still, using a fake Timer had been ill-conceived from the beginning.

"So why don't you have one?"

He shrugged and dipped his hands down into his pockets. They'd never really talked about Timers before. He knew she did not have one because he'd seen her wrist, but given how guarded she was about, well, every aspect of her life, he didn't really think she'd be too forthcoming about her reasoning. Besides, he didn't have one, so the subject was not very prominent in his mind. "Oh, I dunno. Never seemed worth bothering to me—especially with them being only seventy percent accurate and all. What if the person you matched with was the wrong person and then you prevented them from finding their real soulmate? How terrible. Besides, it always seemed like something for the younger crowd."

Her lips twisted as she thought. "You would have been...twenty-five when they came out?

He bobbed his head, confirming her mental math. "Yes and I was married with a kid. Meredith never brought it up and I thought why risk ruining what we had for Alexis—that was back when I thought we could make it work."

"Makes sense."

"Why didn't you get one early on?"

She took a sip of her drink and then placed it down on the kitchenette counter. "Oh, I, uh, I always found them kind of creepy."

"Creepy?" he echoed, laughing.

She scrunched her nose and nodded. "Yeah. Having something metal permanently attached to your wrist? I just thought it was too weird. And then my mother died and…" Her voice drifted off with a shrug.

Given what he knew about her, this made sense. Kate had shied away from deeply intimate relationships in the wake of her mother's death, letting her fear of heartbreak win out. Yet, as they stood there, she was the only one that possessed a Timer, so clearly something had changed. "So when'd you get that one?" He nodded towards her wrist. He knew it had to be some time in the prior four months, but he was endlessly curious for the exact catalyst.

Her soft expression evaporated immediately and she picked up her mug to carry with her out of the breakroom. "It doesn't matter."

He chased after her. "It does."

She whipped around so quickly that she nearly spilled some of her coffee. "No, Castle, it doesn't. C'mon the case is over just...go home to Gina."

He remained frozen momentarily in the breakroom as he was confused. God—hadn't she realized? Evidently not. Barreling out of the breakroom, he skidded to her side. "She's not there." Kate looked up, mildly curious. "Yeah, shockingly enough we didn't last the summer before getting into a fight and breaking up. Think that's number five...hopefully we go for round six."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

Shaking her head, she rounded her shoulders and gazed at him with head tilted to the side. "Look I have paperwork with the two arrests and all so I should get to it. I'll talk to you later; thanks for the coffee."

"Sure, Kate." He nodded, slowly backing his way towards the elevator as a plan formulated in his mind. "I'll talk to you later."

Kate had barely been home five minutes before a knock at her apartment door interrupted the frustrating search through her refrigerator for something edible. She shut the fridge door and gazed back at the entry hallway rather incredulous. She didn't even need the powers of x-ray vision to know who was tapping against her residence's door. Only one person could be behind it.

Rolling her eyes, she crossed the room and walked over to the door. Whipping it open, she was midway through, "I didn't mean literally later today, Castle," when she locked eyes with the writer and an obnoxious beeping noise began echoing off the walls and floors. Eyes wide, she looked down at her right hand still gripping the door handle and gasped. The digits on her Timer were now flashing green and, though she had never witnessed it occur before, she somehow knew exactly what was happening.

Oh god.

"C-Castle?" she managed to stammer out.

He brushed past her and stepped into the apartment, hovering around the entrance to her kitchen. "Sorry to steal your thunder, but I couldn't help myself. This is what you intended, right? Took me about an hour to figure out the story, but then it all made sense."

She blinked at him. "What story?"

"The story of your Timer. After I left with Gina in the spring you realized how jealous you were and that made you think you were in love with me, so you decided to get a Timer so you could come out to the Hamptons and surprise me, but your Timer showed dashes and you thought I already had one, which meant we weren't a match. Devastated, you threw yourself into your work and then when I showed up you turned your anger against fate into anger at me. Wrongfully so, of course—as I just proved."

The smile on his face—the one that showed just how damned proud of himself he was—made her both want to slap him and kiss him. He really was too much sometimes, but he also made her heart flutter with joy, like in that moment as she watched his effortlessly crafted tale. He really was incredible. Yet she could not have been happier to prove him wrong. "Nope."

His whole body slouched several inches. "Really? I worked so hard on that!"

She shook her head. "Well you're half wrong, anyway."

"Which half?"

Grazing her teeth over her bottom lip she debated just how much of the truth to reveal to him, but then again he was her soulmate; he deserved every bit of it. "You had asked me to come to the Hamptons with you and I was scared because I wanted to. I was trying to work up the courage to say yes so I went for a walk. I was having this bizarre internal argument and then suddenly I found myself in front of a Timer shop. I guess I went temporarily insane because I went inside, thinking I'd surprise you twice when I agreed to go with you. And then, yes, I thought we weren't matched, so I got angry—and even angrier when Gina showed up to go with you for the weekend."

He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head. "I am so sorry."

She merely shrugged. "It's my own fault. How'd I not notice in two years of partnership that you didn't have a Timer?"

"Yeah how didn't you notice that?"

She shrugged and laughed. "I don't know." Truth be told, Timers were not that prevalent for those older than her and since she didn't have one, she didn't much think about them. She never thought to check his wrist for a Timer just as though she never thought to ask if he had a tattoo somewhere on his torso. Still, standing there after everything that happened, it seemed rather silly since she had seen him with his sleeves rolled up more than a few times and she was a detective after all.

After they shared a smile, Castle stepped forward and opened his arms to her. She willingly stepped into them, and a smile blossomed across her face when their arms closed around each other and she sunk against his body. He kissed the side of her head and asked, "Are you okay?"

She was about to answer in the affirmative when a heart-crushing thought crossed her mind. Their Timers had matched, and that was wonderful, but what if it was a false match? What if they fell into the thirty percent who had faulty Timers or felt a great attraction to one another and therefore triggered a false positive?

"Kate?"

She slid out of their embrace enough to gaze up at him cautiously. "I just thought…what if we're in the thirty percent?"

"What thirty percent?"

"False Timer matches."

"Oh." He rolled his eyes. "Not possible."

"You don't think?"

"I know."

She arched a skeptical eyebrow at his confidence. "And how's that?"

"Because of this." With that, he lowered his lips to hers and they shared their very first kiss. Kate felt it—a soft crackle at first, but then full blown sparks shooting from her wrist to the center of her chest. Kissing Castle felt like the one perfect thing she'd ever done in her life; it left her breathless in every sense of the world.

"O-oh." She sighed when their lips finally separated.

He grinned. "See; we're soulmates, Kate."

She smiled and hugged him tight once more. So maybe it wasn't a guarantee, but in this case she'd take his theory without questioning it; their match was one hundred percent real.

A/N: This inset was inspired by a request in the reviews by Alyssa86InMN so thank you for that. Hope you enjoyed this take on it