"What happens next?"

Her voice, soft and intimate, floats gently past his ear and he realises he's been sitting quietly for longer than he should have.

"You're picturing yourself in this story aren't you." Kate said quietly.

He turned to her again as the picture slipped away "So were you." He pointed out.

Her mouth dropped open as she looked at him, before she shut it with an audible snap and scrunched her face in admittance of guilt, she mumbled something quietly her cheeks going pink.

He leant closer cupping a hand to his ear as he smiled "Excuse me? I didn't quite catch that!"

"It was my club, The Blue Butterfly…it was mine." She admitted raising her voice.

"Oh really?" He laughed loudly as her cheeks flushed again. She had cast herself as the femme fatale, the mobsters moll, gorgeous, deadly and alluring.

"So who am I in your version of this fantasy?" he asked smiling "I'm not another goon am I?"

"You first," she challenged "who did you see me as in your head? Some scantily clad dancing girl? Cocktail waitress?" She teased him, adding in another poke to his leg for good measure.

When he sat silently, too quiet for him, she felt a sudden flash of hurt pride "I was in it wasn't I?"

"I'm just trying to remember if anyone else was," he said dreamily "my head is full of you in that red dress."

"Red dress?" She questioned, annoyed with herself as he totally sucked her into his fantasy, but not really caring because she wanted to hear, wanted to see what he saw.

"Mmmm…sleeveless, very tight," he smiled at the image of her flitting through his mind "long through the leg, little flare just here." He waved his hand in the direction of her calf "Your hair was down, so beautiful, and it was doing this twisty thing," his hand moved to his own head and he mimed a tumbled movement of his wrist against one side of his face, down past his neck to his shoulder.

She laughed, he was so good with details, the imagery, but 'twisty-thing' was no way to be describing someones hair, let alone hers, she'd have to give him a few pointers for future reference.

"I wasn't wearing a snood was I." She asked, watching his face contort and fighting another laugh as he shook his head vigorously.

"No, no snood," he made a face of disgust "your hair was down, and free, it was this mass of auburn mixed through with colours of the Fall, reds and golds and when it caught in the light it shimmered and I wanted to…" he swallowed quickly and tried to cover up his mistake "HE...he wanted to run his fingers through it."

She watched him with amusement, something bordering on delight, as his cheeks pinked up and she realised he was flustered.

"Getting a little too into it were you Castle?"

Pretending to ignore her he carried on with his fantasy, 40's Beckett was hot!

"Sucked into my own imagination by those bright red lips you had, perfect for kissi…" he stopped dead and smiled at her.

Her eyes were wide, staring at him with her lips pursed, she rubbed the thin line of her top lip across the bottom one as she tried to suppress the words that wanted to bubble out, maybe the action itself.

He wanted to kiss her, she knew that, what she wasn't prepared for was how much she wanted to kiss him back. How it came at her in a rushing swoop.

Here and now, well then and there, but he was implying both versions of him wanted to kiss her.

She opened her mouth, not entirely sure what was about to come out, but he spoke over her, drowning out whatever came next as his eyes were back on the diary.

"So how did you see me Beckett? Was I a butch bouncer?" He lifted the book clean out of her hands and pulled it up to his face, inspecting it in minute detail as he looked for more clues, he didn't see the smile that she was fighting next to him. "Hunky bartender? Piano playing stud?"

She snickered "Stud? You wish!"

"Hey," he said glancing up, "I made you hot in my head, the least you could do is return the favour, reciprocate…so, who was I? Cloak room attendant? Hey I know, I was playing the triangle with band." He grinned before looking back down at the book.

She shook her head slowly, clearly debating whether or not to be honest "No you were more the intrepid P.I who wouldnt leave things alone."

"You cast me as the Dick?" His mock show of indignation cracked through her embarrassment and she laughed, head tipping back as the surprised little bark of amusement escaped her.

She really wanted to say it, it was the perfect response, the 'always' sitting evilly on the tip of her tongue, innuendo, tease, and truth all folded into the word but she fought it, stayed the urge and nodded.

"If the fedora fits…" she laughed again. "What's his name anyway?"

"Whose name?"

"The PI Castle!" She whacked him across the leg, hard, drawing his attention back to the here and now "Mr. Dick himself." she grinned at him "What's his name?"

He dropped her hand, trying to ignore the feeling of disappointment when he realised they were no longer touching, as he pulled the journal up to his face.

"I cant…" he shook his head "I cant make it out."

"Make one up writer, use your brain."

"Err…Joe?" Yeah, what brain? He blurted out the first name that appeared in his head, for some reason he had been thinking about Joe Torre, that silly grin, that beautiful spark of enthusiasm that had overtaken Kate when she met him.

"Joe?"

"Yes Joe." He stated more firmly. The single raised eyebrow she threw at him suddenly made him feel defiant.

"Seriously? All the names in the world and you pick Joe?"

"What's wrong with Joe?"

"It's so…"

"So what?"

"Nothing!"

"We're not naming our kids here Kate we're picking the name for a fictional character I'm pretending to be." Oops, maybe he shouldn't have sounded so excited about pretending to be her fictional other half.

She laughed "You're pretending to b…wait…what? Kids?"

Ok never mind, he thought, she hadn't even heard it. He then winced a little as he realised what he had said, but then he shrugged openly at her, giving in to the truth of it.

She would be a nightmare to name kids with, to name anything with, they would bicker and argue every point, he let out an unsteady breath, he wanted that, the daily taunting and teasing, wanted it all, so much.

Oh, and private investigator, he hadn't thought of that, he looked at her again with admiration, nodding his approval, yeah P.I, that was cool, and a possible Halloween costume idea, now, if he could just get her into one of the dresses he had been picturing in his head, wow!

"What's her name?" Kate asked suddenly.

She drew him back from his weird little daydream and, seeing the way she was looking at him, her eyes shiny and fingers squeezing each other tight, he was pretty sure she guessed where his mind had gone.

"Whose name?"

"Her, the…me in your imagination. What would you call me?" She tipped her head to one side in anticipation.

"Oh, so many things Detective!" He waggled his eyebrows at her and grinned "I have this one fantasy where I call you…"

"CASTLE!" She barked. "Focus!" Her fingers tapped the book again.

He took a deep breath, sat back and looked her up and down, taking in the essence of someone, their personality and mannerisms tended to help him find the name of the character he was basing on them.

Nikki with her kicking k's for kick-ass Kate the super Detective and Heat, well, that was pretty obvious.

He let his eyes linger over her body, taking longer than necessary across her chest and legs. He waited until he saw her foot start tapping before he drew his eyes higher, to her face.

"Like what you see?" She growled at him "Take a picture it will last longer."

"Hey, if you insist" He struggled with his jacket as he searched for his phone, but he stopped dead when he felt her fingers close over his forearm.

"Rick," she said quietly, watching him nearly give himself whip lash as he snapped his head backwards, the sound of his name on her lips stopping everything dead as he stared at her.

"Violet," he said suddenly, giving in to the question she left unsaid. His eyes roving her face, finding the dark smudges under her own, wondering how it was they didn't detract from her beauty.

The purple shadows she hid so well told the story of a woman who approached her job with an un-failing dedication.

He clenched his fist tight, knuckles smarting painfully and turning white as he fought the urge to run his thumb along the shallow tired line under her eye. His hands ached to soothe the bruise like smudge into nothing.

He needed to snap himself out of it and he saw her shake her head, not liking his choice.

That seemed to get his brain working, after all, his mind had given life to hundreds of characters, naming this one should be simple enough…except he was stuck on V's for some reason.

"Veronica, oooh Vivica? Vivian? No wait, I have it, the perfect name…Vixen!"

"That's not a name."

"Yuhuh, just the one name, Vixen the fox who owns The Blue Butterfly."

"Just one name?" She scrunched her nose, ignorning the 'fox' comment and twisting her lips in disgust "Are you channelling your inner 80's musician?"

"Bodelier"

"What?"

"Vixen Bodelier," he laughed, she did not look at all impressed with this suggestion, well if she put him on the spot she would have to deal with the consequences. "I don't know, you wanted names those are the first ones that came to me."

She shook her head, "You can work on that later."

"You never like the names I pick!" he said pouting.

She laughed at the pathetic look on his face "Can you really blame me?"

"What is wrong with Nikki Heat, seriously?" He asked, the age old argument cropping up yet again.

"It's still a stripper name," she shrugged "it will always be a stripper name."

"Admit it though, its grown on you." He smiled winking at her before turning back to the book in his lap, beckoning her closer to the journal, back to the story.

She sat un-moving for a few seconds longer, taking in the eagerness of his face as he waited for her, wanting to pull her back into the story with him.

He was very sweet, amazing actually, as he made space for her next to him.

And he was right of course, the name had grown on her, just a little bit. It was actually kind of clever, all the ways it could be woven into titles, but she wasn't going to tell him and give him the satisfaction. It was just another of the many secrets she kept buried away.

The name had grown on her, much in the way he had, slowly over time, until suddenly whoosh it was in your face and you were in love with your partner and best friend and fighting with everything you had, to be able to one day, sit him down, hold his hand and blurt out 'I love you too.'

One day, but for now, she looked at him, twitching in the chair, eyes darting from her to the journal, like a hyperactive puppy, she laughed gently watching him, for now this was enough.

She couldn't keep all the secrets forever, much like the journal laying safely in his lap, eventually truth would out, and thinking more about him than Nikki Heat, she let this one slip free "You're right," she said, "it has grown on me."

He turned back then, the tone of her voice far too gentle for the conversation they had been having. She was closer than he expected and moving back he found their faces inches apart, her chuckling breath gusting across his face, the sweet scent of her mixed with the coffee she had been drinking earlier, it shouldn't smell good, shouldn't make him lean closer but, as new visions flooded his head, it did.

How did she do that?

Her presence conjuring magic from thin air, placing things almost fully formed into his head.

His eyes lost focus, a dreamy dazed look washing over him, as the story from the journal reared to life.

He started to speak rapidly as the words over took him.

"They fled arm in arm from the club and out into the night..."