Author's Note: There is a small spoiler for the novel "Raging Heat" in this chapter - just as a heads-up.

Some random cell…

This wasn't Richard Castle's first time sitting in a jail cell, but it was by far his worst. Something about being locked up for something he didn't do sat wrong with the writer. He knew Kate's parents weren't going to believe him, but to go so far as to…it couldn't have been them that tipped off the police, could it?

Of course it was. Castle hadn't told anyone else, outside of Alexis and Ashley, and he knew neither of them would say anything to the cops.

Demming rubbed him the wrong way, too, but Castle couldn't figure out why. He'd been polite enough – as polite as one could be when they were arresting someone. At least Castle was in this cell by himself, instead of trying to find some empty space next to drunkards sleeping it off and assorted others who were being held for whatever reason.

He heard footsteps approaching, and Castle wondered if finally he was going to be brought in for questioning. He sighed and folded his arms over his chest, furrowing his brow when he saw who approached the bars.

It wasn't Demming. Not in that suit.

"Richard Castle?"

Castle cocked his head to the side. "Yeah?" The man standing on the other side of the bars looked familiar, with his fine-tailored three-piece, American flag pin on the lapel, and perfectly coifed hair.

The man offered a plastic smile. "William Bracken."

Oh yeah…him. The former Senator – or, depending on the universe, the morally corrupt bastard who was responsible for the murder of Johanna Beckett and a handful of others. Castle never thought he could feel such hate and disgust for someone he'd never met, yet here he was, trying to keep his cool – lest he look any crazier than he already did.

"I know I've got friends in high places." Castle smirked. "But you're not one of them."

"I could be." Bracken wrapped his left hand over a bar, cocking his head to the side. "I don't believe you have anything to do with Katherine's disappearance."

Katherine. So formal. So foreign to Castle. He still knew her as Kate, or Beckett. The pang of longing hit him again, and the writer's eyes fell to the floor. He swallowed and forced himself to meet Bracken's gaze.

"So I guess that means you didn't call Demming."

Bracken's face contorted in disgust. "Demming's a tool. Wouldn't know how to wipe his ass if you didn't hand him a roll of toilet paper." Bracken glanced over his shoulder. "Katherine came to see me a few nights ago. Making no sense at all, might I add."

Curiosity and dread replaced the longing inside Castle, and he sat up a little straighter. She hadn't told him about seeing Bracken; only Johanna.

"She swore up and down that her mother had been murdered, and that I was responsible for it." Bracken's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? Because frankly, Richard, that sounds like it could be the premise for one of your books."

"She, uh…" Castle nodded. "She came to me three days ago. Acted like we knew each other. When she told me her name was Beckett, I showed her the paper – the one with her mom on the front page. She looked like she'd seen a ghost."

Bracken nodded. "She mentioned that she was supposed to marry you."

Castle smiled, but there was a sadness to it. "She told me she was a homicide cop, that we'd been together for years…" He shook his head. "It sounded like a really, really good life…you know, except for the murder and conspiracy bit."

Bracken folded his arms over his chest. "You believed her."

"I did." The writer stood and slid his hands into his pockets. "She was wearing a fancy engagement – definitely something within my price range – and she said at one point she'd been shot in the chest by a sniper. She even showed me the scar."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Yesterday." Castle sighed. Then his gaze lifted and his eyes widened, as if he remembered something. "Oh, before she left, she, uh…she left me a note, tucked in one of my books. Something about going home and telling me that I had to find 'the other her'."

Bracken frowned. "We're not talking alternate universes and parallel timelines are we?" The former Senator shook his head. "Because I've seen Fringe, Mr. Castle, and I'm just now getting rid of my headache."

Castle shrugged. "Well, other than psychosis, what other explanation is there?"

Bracken cursed under his breath. He hated to admit it, but the writer had a point. Not only that, but Bracken's personal issues with Johanna aside, he didn't want anything to happen to her only daughter. Crazy as everything sounded, he believed Castle wasn't responsible for whatever happened to Kate.

"I can get you out of here." Bracken offered.

Castle's brow arched. "And in return?"

"Find Kate." Bracken nodded once. "Johanna and I may be political enemies, but no one deserves to fear for their child's safety."

Richard Castle's loft…

The sound of a book being plopped down onto the surface of his desk broke Richard Castle out of his writing-induced trance, and he looked up to see Kate Beckett – the other Beckett – standing on the other side, a knowing grin on her face.

His eyes flickered downward to find a copy of Raging Heat.

"Please tell me Nikki says yes."

"Funny you should mention that." Castle closed his laptop and sank back in his seat. "I was just writing the next book."

Beckett's smile grew. "And…?"

"And telling you would amount to a spoiler." Castle rested his hands on the back of his head, arching his brows.

"Well, with any luck, I'll be back in my world by the time the next book is published." Beckett folded her arms and took the seat across from Castle's desk. She still wore her hair in a ponytail – though Castle figured that was probably so she could differentiate herself from Kate.

"Fair point." Castle sat up a little straighter. "Well…what do you think she says?"

Beckett rolled her eyes with a grin. "I think she says yes."

Castle offered a smug grin. "I think you think right."

"I mean…" Beckett's eyes focused on a random spot on the desk. "I said yes, so I don't think my literary counterpart would say no."

"Also a fair point."

Silence fell over them for a few moments, and it was far too awkward for Castle's liking. He'd grown used to silences with Kate in recent months, finding that his constant need for yammering had its time and place. But with this Beckett, the silences were suffocating. So many things left unsaid, so many questions unanswered.

"So…" He cleared his throat. "Where's Kate?"

"Work." Beckett nodded. "A body dropped near Central Park." Beckett shook her head. "She seemed pretty excited to get out of here."

"I'm sure it's not you." Castle hoped to whatever god was out there he was reassuring her, because truth be told, there were times he wanted to jet, too. Hell, at this point, a meeting with Gina would be a welcome reprieve. "It's just…the past few days have been weird for her. I'm sure she just wants a little slice of normal right now."

Beckett stood with an exhausted sigh, shaking her head. "All I know is, when I get back where I belong, the first thing I'm gonna do is give my mom a big bear hug." She smirked. "And then I'm gonna drink myself under a table."

Castle watched Beckett walk out of his office, sighing and running a hand through his hair as he sank back into his chair. He was exhausted, in spite of the previous night's sleep. The mystery of the two Becketts was starting to get on his nerves – which was saying something, considering the weirder the case, the more he enjoyed it.

But since Kate's plea to him – Marry me – Castle wanted nothing more than to get the other Beckett back to her own reality, and the fact that he was coming up empty was unsettling. Castle had wasted enough time not making Kate his wife; he didn't want to wait another day.

Mostly because there was no telling when something would threaten to take it all away again.