A/N : I'm really sorry that this chapter took so long. I had exams and I was super busy... But I'm sorry. I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I've already rewritten it twice, and I give up. Let me know! Hugs to Kam and Rhee, as always, for their continued support no matter how crappy my writing gets. Idea credit for the first question in the chapter goes to 'addicted2broadway89'. Thanks alot.

Kate blinked her eyes open, her arm coming up to shield them from the bright sun. She groaned.

"Hello there, sleepy head." said Rick, in a singsong voice accompanied by a signature Castlesque smirk.

Kate stared at him, still sleepy and disoriented. She straightened herself, and stretched her legs out, as far as the car would allow.

"Mm. How long was I out?"

"Eh. 45 minutes, tops? You were like a dead log."

"You would know."

"What?"

"Staring is creepy. Especially when I'm asleep and you're supposed to be watching the road."

"But.. You were… Log.. How?"

"DETECTIVE Kate Beckett, Castle. Or did you forget?"

"Me? Forget your sexy badassness? Please."

"I thought it was sarcastic badassness."

"It is. It's sexy sarcastic badassness."

"Rick, that makes no sense."

"You're too badass to get it."

"That doesn't make any sense either."

"It's a writer thing? You're beautiful?"

Castle stammered, while Beckett bit the inside of her cheek, desperately trying not to laugh.

"Right. Hey, that reminds me. You never did tell me why you wanted to become a writer."

"Easing ourselves into the 5th question are we?"

"Maybe."

He grinned, eyes sparkling, signalling the start of a great story.

"It all started back in the early 1980's."

"Wow, you're really old, aren't you?"

He gave her a patronizing look.

"A handsome, young lad was gearing up for the real world."

"Handsome? Real world? Castle, I wanted the story to be about you. I already know how Patterson became a writer."

"You really have a thing for Patterson don't you?"

"Well, he really is the only handsome writer I know. Other than Alex Conrad, of course." she said, trying to keep a straight face.

Gasp. "Kate! That's… that's not funny. Not even a little bit. I mean. Conrad? Really? You're killing me here."

He was starting to rant. She burst out laughing.

"Castle. I thought I made this clear. I'm a one writer girl."

"And I'm a one detective man." he said smiling promisingly.

"Except for Esposito."

He winked at her.

"Who said I was talking about you?"

"I knew you guys make out during interrogation."

She grinned cheekily.

"Kay, that's a bit much." said Castle, clearly disturbed by that visual imagery.

"Sorry."

"But seriously, Kate. You're the only detective for me. No one else even comes close."

She smiled warmly at him, affection shining in her eyes.

"Come on you sap! Tell the story, already."

"Okay, okay. My story's actually depressingly boring."

"Boring?" Gasp. "How could there be a boring Castle story? Did you feel that acorn? The world's coming to an end! Ahh!"

Rick raised an eyebrow.

"You're really bored, aren't you?"

"Grasping at straws here, Rick."

"Haha. Okie doke. Why I became a writer? I always loved writing. As a kid, I would stay holed up in my room just writing something or the other. I'd miss dinner, not shower – sometimes my mother wouldn't even know where I was. When I would come out, it would be like I had been stranded on an island, or something. I would scarf down food like there was no tomorrow. One day, in my first days of college, I had just finished one of my stories and one of Mother's director friends dropped in. He took one look at my manuscript, and submitted it to several publishers. As you already know, it was rejected 21 times. Finally, the 22nd time, it was accepted, and we have what you call 'In A Hail of Bullets'. I still have Black Pawn's rejection letter, actually. It's framed in my office, as motivation."

"Black Pawn? As in Gina, Black Pawn?"

"Yep."

"They must be really killing themselves over that one."

"I still hold it over Gina to piss her off."

They both grinned.

"So, Ms Beckett. I believe it is my turn."

"I suppose so , Mr Castle."

"Tell me the story behind your tattoo."

"The butterfly tattoo?"

"Mmhmm."

"Uh, okay, sure. Well, uh, as you know, I'm kindascaredofbutterflies." She muttered, quietly, awfully embarrassed.

"I'm sorry what was that? Scared of butterflies? No, I had no idea!" Rick smirked, both of them remembering the first time he found out.

They were sitting on a bench at Central Park, in front of the duck pond. It was one of those lazy days, where Kate wasn't on call, so Castle (sap that he is) decided that it would be a great day to go to the park.

They sat quietly, shredding bread and tossing it to the ducks, making small talk as they did. Suddenly, a yellow polka dotted butterfly landed on her thigh. She hadn't noticed it yet, as she was animatedly telling him this story about someone, somewhere, doing something. So he decided to point it out.

Kate screeched, nearly jumping off the bench.

"Ahh! Castle! Get it away from me! Oh my god! CASTLE!"

"Woah, calm down. I think you managed by yourself." He said, grinning.

"It's not funny, Rick."

The death glare really wasn't working out with the flushed cheeks and panic in her eyes.

"You're scared of butterflies?" He was barely holding it in.

"Shut up."

"Are you?"

"I said shut up, Castle."

"Oh my gosh, you totally are. How adorable."

She glared at him in response.

They stared at each other for a while, each in their own thoughts.

Hey Kate?"

"Yes Rick?"

"Why do you hate butterflies?"

"What do you mean?" She looked at him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why do you hate 'em? Butterflies are harmless."

"Okay. Let's get this straight. Butterflies are NOT harmless. They… fly and stuff."

"You're scared of butterflies because they fly?" Rick stared at her, incredulously. The woman hunts down murderers for a living, but a butterfly lands on her and she runs a mile? No way. There had to be a story.

"Yes. Well, no. Yes. And they're really ugly."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing that.

"Okay, look. I used to love 'em as a kid. But one time, I was chasing after one, and I tripped, and I swallowed it."

"You swallowed it?"

Rick's mouth was agape, but his eyes twinkled, finally getting the story he wanted.

"Yeah, it was terrifying. Imagine having a butterfly down your throat." She shuddered.

"Oh. Wow. I don't think I'll ever be able to look at butterflies the same way ever again."

He mock shuddered. She slugged him.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For making fun of me."

"Kate?"

"Go away." The glare didn't quite reach her eyes, as she grinned, faintly blushing.

"Kate, I'm sorry. I know how hard opening up to me is. I just think that with your sexy sarcastic badassness, it's a bit funny that you are scared of butterflies. And I promise this secret is ours. I won't tell anyone. But don't worry. Your sexy sarcastic badassness is NOT at stake here."

"Oh thank God! What would I have done?"

"Shut it."

She didn't respond, instead poking her tongue at him.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

She was hoping it had nothing to do with her fear for butterflies.

"Can I tell you a joke?"

"Sure Castle."

Anything to stop with the butterflies.

"Why didn't the butterfly go to the dance?"

"Jesus, Castle, really?"

"Cmon Kate. Humour me."

Sigh. "Why Castle? Why didn't the butterfly go to the dance?"

"Cause it was a mothball. Get it? Get it?"

He grinned like a 5 year old, and Kate wasn't sure whether she wanted to smack him or kiss him. He'd had a field day with it ever since, but he never mentioned it to the boys or to Alexis and Martha. Sweet, immature man child.

"Rick."

"Sorry, yeah. I remember. What about it?"

"My mom wasn't really afraid of anything. She was one of the bravest women I have ever known. When she died, I needed something that would be like a tribute to her. So I decided to get a tattoo."

He smiled encouragingly, urging her to continue. She took a deep breath.

"At first, I was only going to get Vincit Omnia Veritas. But I dunno, Castle. I walked in there and that butterfly, it was just, wow. It impacted me, and I think getting the butterfly meant getting myself through the hard times. Blue was her favourite colour. That's why the butterfly is blue, and the inscription below it is.."

"Purple. Like a mix of the two of you."

"Exactly."

She smiled softly at him. She could never understand how he got her so easily. She was like an open book to him.

"What did I ever do to get someone as sweet as you?"

""The same thing that I did to deserve such an inspiring muse."

"Call me a muse again, and I'll break your legs."

"Kate! We were having a moment!" he said, with a mock exasperated tone.

She chuckled.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, butterfly." said Rick, smirking.

"Don't you dare."

He only grinned in response.

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