May 2010

"So tell me," Kate said as she crawled into bed beside Castle. "How is your writing really going?"

"Which one?" he mumbled back, his eyes shut, his face heavy with sleep.

"Which what? Writing. Bond."

"Oh…" he let out a huff of a laugh, eyes still closed as he pulled her toward him. "Him. Bond. Mmm."

Kate shook her head, curling into her boyfriend. The day swirled in her mind. Maybe trying to converse with him now wasn't the best idea, but they hadn't had a chance until now; brunch in the morning, before stopping by the loft to visit Martha, then getting ready, and going to the Bond exhibition.

"Hello, Katherine, darling," Martha had greeted her, the woman's knowing smile causing Kate to blush.

"Hello, Mother," Castle had said pointedly, regarding her with narrowed eyes, but she'd just lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Richard, I'd love to stay and chat with you and your detective all day-" Martha had dismissed her son as quickly as they'd arrived, "but I have people to see, and you can't expect me to wait around all day here when you clearly have better things to do." She'd pecked a kiss against Castle's cheek, letting him know she wasn't really mad, before breezing out of the loft.

From there, Castle had insisted on stalking around his apartment to see just how many changes Martha had managed to make in his short absence; he swore a vase had been broken, and the piano relocated.

"Okay, babe, get what you need and let's go," Beckett had said at last. "Wait until you move back here before you start cataloging all of your mother's supposed transgressions."

He'd sighed, overly dramatic as he'd trudged into his bedroom to find a tux in his closet, and she'd perched on the edge of his bed, amused at the scene before her; it was entirely possible Castle had double the number of clothes she had.

Their day had been punctuated with sex; pre brunch, then again at the loft - she'd pinched herself at the reality of being in Richard Castle's bed - before returning to her apartment to get ready for the event.

The Bond exhibition over, Kate had to confess that being on his arm for the evening… well, it hadn't sucked. And with any luck, should any pictures make it to Page Six, neither the boys nor Lanie would spot them. If they did, though… she shrugged. So be it. Castle was moving home next month, and at some point they would have to come clean about their relationship.

"Yes, Bond," she continued. "What else would you be writing?"

Castle's eyes remained closed, a sleepy smile gracing his lips as he finally answered, his voice more slurred than ever, and Kate wondered if by now he was sleep talking. "Nikki…"

Beckett hugged her knees up to her chest as she stared out the window. Castle lay in the bed, fast asleep, and she glanced at him every so often, reassured by the light rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Nikki.

What the hell had he meant by that?

Every mention of writing tonight had been of Bond, self-assured statements to the media and event organizers that the next installment of the British spy series was near a done deal, that publication was mere months away.

"I can't stop writing," he'd said to more than one admirer, but each time he'd thrown a quick look in her direction, one she was helpless to interpret. At the time she'd wondered if he was trying to reassure her that, having abandoned Nikki, he hadn't abandoned her. Or, alternatively, perhaps he was looking at her nervously, afraid she would catch him in a lie; perhaps the writing was, in fact, going badly.

Maybe, though, what he meant was that he was moonlighting on his Bond contract. Perhaps there was life to Nikki after all. "There wasn't enough to the character," he'd told her when they'd fought so many months ago, and at the memory she huffed out a sad laugh.

Times had changed since then, so much for the better; but what was next?

If Castle moved back to New York City, what would really happen?

Would he really return to the precinct? Or would Bond be enough for him now? He'd complained to her, more than once, about the dull work he'd been exposed to at MI6; was that real? Or was it something he'd said to make her feel better?

How could homicide compete with spy work?

She sighed, leaning her head against the cold glass.

It couldn't.

She brought a hand to her face, shocked to find tears rolling down her cheeks, and she wiped at them, surprised at how maudlin she'd become. Kate took a deep breath, swallowing and forcing herself to regain her composure. There was no reason for this. None. Her boyfriend had come back from London for the weekend, they'd just enjoyed a night out, and he was moving back permanently in another month.

She had to get it together.

Never before had she cared where her relationships were going; not even with Will. Not following him to Boston was barely a decision, and now she was - what? - wondering where this was going?

"Beckett?" Castle's voice, gravelly with sleep, broke through her reverie, and she blinked, looking over at him.

"Castle? Go back to sleep," she suggested, trying to keep her voice even.

"Jet lag," he responded, and she nodded. "What are you doing over there?"

"Couldn't sleep," she admitted, but she stood, letting her unsteady legs take her back to bed, climbing under the covers that Castle held open for her.

"Come here," he mumbled, pulling her close, and she let him tug her into his arms, resting her head on his broad chest. "You okay?"

Kate nodded. "I'm fine. Just… tired."

"Sleep then," Castle said, and she laughed.

"I could say the same to you," she pointed out.

"Let's not sleep together, then," he suggested, bringing his mouth to her throat and kissing her, and she let herself sink into his touch, pushing away the doubts that had clouded her mind.

"Castle," she asked, as she poured the coffee the next morning, studiously avoiding his eyes. "When you- last night-"

"What about last night?" he replied, and she caught the lazy grin on his face as she glanced at him.

"Not that," she laughed. "Before that. I asked what you were… writing. And you said… Nikki."

"Huh?" Castle narrowed his eyes at her in consternation. "Yeah… so?"

"So… you're writing Bond, not Nikki, right?"

He cocked his head in confusion, accepting the coffee that she handed him and taking a sip before answering. "I'm writing both."

"You're-" Beckett stopped, blinking as she took it all in; not just his words, but his matter of fact tone, as though this was something she was supposed to know. "You're writing Bond… and you're writing Nikki? How does that even work?"

Castle shrugged. "Depends who you ask. According to Gina, not very well." He chuckled. "But I'm meeting my deadlines, so she can't really complain. And Paula- well, she's just happy about the idea of having two books to release this year. Figures it will send the press a message. Plus, then Patterson can stop-" He broke off mid-sentence. "Wait. You know all this."

Beckett shook her head. "No I don't. I thought you were finished with Nikki."

"But I've been writing the second Nikki Heat since January. I must have told you. It's due for publication at the end of this year. Paula wants it out in time for Christmas sales."

"Huh. You… never mentioned it." Beckett sank down into the chair at her kitchen table. "So does this mean when you come back for good, next month, you're shadowing me again?"

Castle laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss into her hair. "I've already cleared it with the mayor and Montgomery. You're my inspiration for Nikki Heat. Of course I'm coming back."

A/N: thank you. x