Author's Note: My goal when I started this series was to write each "date" as though it could have happened without altering canon. This one's a little different, but I've decided to include it here anyway. Thank you to whomever it was on tumblr that initially wrote the tag-fic on the gifset that inspired this and to simplymaterial for sending it to me as a prompt.

Prompt: Ending of 2x05, but what if Castle's phone doesn't ring and they really are leaving each other? For the sake of this fic, we're gonna pretend Kate's phone doesn't ring either.

2x05 – When The Bough Breaks

Their hands separate slowly, lingering just this side of too long before dropping back to their sides. The silence between them is awkward, growing even more so as it stretches.

Finally, Castle clears his throat. "Well, uh, I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, uh, good luck," she manages.

He smiles wanly as she steps back, turns her back to him, and he's gripped with the sudden fear that this might be the last time he ever sees her. He's not even a little bit okay with that.

Before his brain can catch up with his mouth, warn him that it probably isn't a good idea, he's calling out across the foyer. "Can I at least take you to dinner?"

Kate jerks to an abrupt halt, nearly tripping over her feet as she whirls around. "What?"

"Can I take you to dinner?" he repeats, stammering out an explanation in an attempt to calm her disapprovingly-raised eyebrow. "Just, I mean, as a thank you. For letting me shadow you."

Her heart stutters in her chest, beating a frantic rhythm against the inside of her ribcage even as she tries to calm it, suppress the jumble of feelings vying for her affections. She wants to snort and say no. Tell him that if he really wants to thank her for putting up with him, he could just leave her alone for once.

But the part of her that's come to sort of not entirely mind his presence – not that she'll admit to its existence – wants to accept. As much as he irritates her and annoys her and wriggles his way in everywhere she doesn't want him to be, she's grown accustomed to it. To the way he brings her coffee every day, the way he knows how to lighten the mood when she needs it. The way he's managed to bring a bit of fun to her job. For all of his flaws and annoyances, he does have a way of keeping things light-hearted and entertaining.

Not that she didn't enjoy being a detective before he came barging in. She did. But Castle – he makes it different. In a good way.

Most of the time.

She's secretly not ready to let that go.

But maybe she doesn't have to. Not quite yet, anyway.

Kate shrugs, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets to hide her sweaty palms. "Okay, fine."

"Really?" He grins, so giddy and proud of himself, and she has to roll her eyes because if she doesn't, he might realize that she's actually looking forward to this a little bit. The one thing she hasn't gotten used to is just how well he can read her. It's unnerving, to say the least.

"Pick you up at seven?" Castle asks before she has a chance to reply.

"Ummm..." She doesn't have plans tonight. Not per se. Although re-reading Heat Wave is at the top of her list. Not that she's about to tell him that.

"You have plans," he states when she hesitates.

"No, not...I was just..." Kate sighs, bites the bullet. "Sure. Seven."

"Great," he offers, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Oh, and I wouldn't be opposed to you wearing that sexy blue dress you wore to the launch party."

"Right," she snorts.

Like hell she's dressing up for this. It's just a quick dinner. His way of saying 'thank you.'

It's not like it's a date.

Kate flops down on her bed, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back off the mattress. She's confused. And she doesn't like it.

She spent the majority of the last year trying to get rid of the guy. Then he left and she found herself eventually taking him back, despite her rigorous denials to Lanie that she didn't even like him. She doesn't not like him. But she doesn't like him in that way either. She just – what was it she'd said to Will? Finds him interesting?

Yeah, she'll go with that.

But then he wrote a book about her. He dedicated it to her. And not just a simple dedication. He called her extraordinary. For the whole world to see.

She's still having trouble reconciling the arrogant jackass part of him with the one that calls her extraordinary like he means it. The one that's a loving father and caring son. She's not sure what to make of it. Any of it.

She rolls her head to one side, catching a glimpse of her clock. It's six o'clock. He'll be here in an hour, and though she's not planning to dress up, she should probably shower.

Kate presses herself into a seated position, gets to her feet, already stripping off her clothes. She leaves them in a heap by her bed and ambles to the shower, climbing in beneath the hot spray and letting it cascade over her body. She washes her hair and her body, lingers as long as she deems acceptable before climbing out into the steamy interior of her bathroom and wrapping herself in a towel. Her hair drips water down her back as she pads to her room, opens the closet in search of something to wear.

Jeans and a shirt, she reminds herself. It's not a date. No need to send mixed signals.

After trying on countless outfits only to groan in frustration and take them off again, she ends up slipping into a dress. It's a shimmery grey number, sleeveless with a shallow v-neck. Classy and demure and yet it accentuates her curves, the way it draws in at the waist, flares out over her hips to fall just above her knees.

It's against her better judgment, but she tells herself she's just taking advantage of the opportunity to get dolled up. And maybe make Castle drool a bit. That's it. It's not like she really cares what he thinks.

She pulls the top half of her hair back, leaving her bangs framing her face and allowing her hair to dry naturally into gentle curls. She's just slipping into black heels when a knock resounds through the apartment, and she can't help the nervousness that flutters in her stomach.

Kate's hand nearly slips off the doorknob, her palm so sweaty, and seriously, why is she so nervous about this? It's just dinner. Nothing more.

The door swings open and there he stands, looking dapper in dark-wash jeans, a red shirt, and a black jacket. His hair flops over his forehead in that irritatingly annoying yet adorable way, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he greets her.

"Hello, Detective."

Kate steps back, forces her voice to work. "Hey. Uh. Come in."

He crosses the threshold and it's only then that she becomes aware of the stunning bouquet of flowers in his hand. They're all colors of the rainbow, a beautiful arrangement, and this is getting way too real way too fast.

Castle tears his eyes away from her modestly exposed cleavage to find her frozen, staring at the flowers.

"Oh, right," he laughs nervously, extends his hand. "For you."

"Uh, ummm, thanks," Kate manages. She turns and strides to the kitchen, infinitely grateful for the opportunity to put some space between them, catch her breath. She should have known he'd be treating this like a date. It's Castle, after all.

Well, she's not going to let that happen. They'll have a nice dinner, probably enjoy each other's company because, well, even she can admit that he can be pleasant when he wants to be.

But that's absolutely as far as this evening is going to go.

Nothing more.

When she comes back from the kitchen, the vase of flowers now decorating the center of her dining room table, Castle is in her living room, wandering around the perimeter taking everything in. Of course. She is thankful to see, however, that he's keeping his hands to himself.

"Ready?"

He turns, eyes bright and excited. "Of course." He crosses to her, offers his arm. "Let's go."

Kate pauses for her jacket and clutch, ignoring his outstretched elbow as she brushes past him and out the front door.

Her fingers still burn from where they brushed his as he handed over the flowers.

She's so not going to make it through this night.

The car stops outside a quaint little bistro in Lower Manhattan and Castle is already out of the car and around to her door before Kate manages to close her hand around the door handle. She's nervous, completely thrown off by all of this. But before she has a chance to dwell on it, he's opening the door, extending a hand and guiding her onto the curb. Once she's steady on her feet he closes the door and steps back, bringing her along with him, her hand still enfolded in his larger one.

Castle's not sure if she simply hasn't noticed or if she's decided to humor him, but he's not about to point it out. Not when she's stepping through the front door in front of him, hands firmly clasped together, looking absolutely stunning. All long legs and gorgeous curves.

He called ahead, of course, specifically requesting a table in the back corner, away from the window and sheltered from prying eyes. The host leads them there, where a bottle of wine already awaits. He deposits menus, promising their waiter will be there shortly, before leaving them to their own devices.

Kate struggles to unbutton her jacket, fingers lacking their normal finesse, but Castle seems not to notice. He simply steps up behind her, gently guiding the sleeves down her arms before indicating she select whichever side of the booth she desires.

"Figured you'd prefer privacy," he offers. "I know red carpets and photographers aren't really your thing."

Kate chooses the bench furthest back, allowing her to people watch behind him if things start getting too intense. Plus, he'll be facing away from the rest of the restaurant. Less chance that he'll be recognized. She already had to walk a red carpet at a party for the book he wrote about her. The last thing she needs is to be photographed dressed up and sharing a meal with him. The tabloids already have plenty about which to speculate.

It quickly becomes clear that she should have chosen the other side, given him the opportunity for people watching. Because without it, his eyes are fixed intensely on her. It's almost more than she can handle, the swarm of feelings emanating out of his gaze. He's looking at her like he knows her. Like he cares about her. Like he wants her.

Kate catches him staring at her chest more than once. The first two times, she calls him out, feigning annoyance. The third and fourth, she glares until he averts his eyes, at least having the decency to look chastened. After two more times and their first glass of wine, she tells herself she's just going to ignore it.

Unfortunately, the rest of her body isn't on the same wavelength. His eyes are dark and the alcohol in her veins is loosening her up just enough that she can't stop her reaction, the pinkish tinge that creeps up from beneath her dress, coloring first her chest, then her neck, and eventually her cheeks. She tells herself it's just from the alcohol, but Castle's smirk tells her that he sees it for exactly what it is as well.

She wants him.

Badly.

Once the food arrives, she's able to tamp down the arousal at least temporarily. They share light small talk over the meal, though she refuses to allow him to feed her, no matter how delicious he claims his meal to be. This is already a far more date-like evening than she wanted it to be. No way she's eating off his plate. Or fork.

Despite Castle's insistence, they don't stay for dessert. She's full and more than overwhelmed with feelings she doesn't even want to think about. And she really just wants to go home and pretend this entire evening never happened, pretend he hasn't been undressing her with his eyes all night long, Pretend she's not turned on by it even though she really can't deny it.

She's pretty sure he sees it too.

So he pays the bill (she doesn't even want to consider how much money he just dropped on this 'thank you' meal) and they rise. Castle slips into his jacket before stepping over to help her with hers. He politely thanks their host on the way out before pressing his hand warm and wide against her lower back and guiding her out onto the street.

The car is waiting outside; it's already dark but not all that cold. And her place isn't all that far from here.

"I think I might just walk," Kate offers.

Castle smiles gently. "Sounds good to me."

Oh. Well. She'd meant alone. But she also knows him well enough to know that trying to talk him out of joining her is a lost cause.

And so they settle in side by side on the concrete trails of Manhattan. Throngs of people are out and about this evening but Castle's firm touch on her back never lets up, keeping her close even as they wind their way through the crowds.

All too soon, they're coming to a stop at the front of her apartment, and Kate steps out of Castle's space.

"I had a really nice time tonight," she offers, and she's surprised to find that she genuinely means it.

Kate shyly blinks up at him as she speaks, the city lights reflecting in the surface of her eyes, a liquid kaleidoscope dancing over the beautiful greenish-brown. He's never entirely figured out what color her eyes are. He's never figured out a lot of things about her.

And he's not prepared to just walk away. To spend the rest of his life never knowing.

"Kate," he begins. She's twenty feet from the front door of her building and if she steps into the lobby, he's fairly certain it'll be the last time he sees her. He can't let that happen.

"Castle..." she speaks at the same time.

They laugh awkwardly before Kate gestures him to continue. She's not entirely sure what she was planning to say anyway. She's no good at this kind of thing. Never has been.

Hell, she doesn't even know what exactly this thing is.

"Look, about what I said the other day. At the party," he begins again. "That dedication. I meant it. I think you're extraordinary. This other offer is fantastic. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to just walk away from Nikki. From you."

Oh. That's not what she was expecting him to say.

"I had a great time tonight," Castle continues. "I have a great time every day with you at the precinct. And I don't want to go home tonight and never see you again. I want you in my life. Whether it's at the precinct or as friends or as," he gestures between them, "whatever this is right now. We're great together, Kate. Tell me you don't feel it."

She sighs, dipping her chin, gaze falling to her feet. She does feel it. She feels it far more than she'd like to admit. She has for a long time now.

"I can't," she manages in a small voice. "But I...what are we doing? I don't know..."

Castle nudges two fingers beneath her chin, gently guides her up until their eyes meet. "We're getting to know each other."

Kate closes her eyes, takes a deep breath before opening them again. Getting to know each other. Until recently, she was pretty sure she already had him all figured out. Now, she's not so convinced.

"Okay," she breathes with a nod. "I can do that."

The smile on his face is worth any hesitation and panic she might be feeling.

So is the gentle kiss he leaves on her lips.

"Good night, Kate," he whispers before disappearing into the night.

She's too stunned to offer a reply.

Thoughts?