I spent the whole of the next day teeming with nervous anticipation, watching the clock from the moment I sat down in my first lesson until the final shrill bell announced the end of the day.

When I arrived at the meeting point Kate was leaning against the gate like the grounds had been build around her. She grinned when I approached and walked up to meet me with a few long strides

"You wanna see something weird?" She asked.

The relief at seeing her washed over me, and I realised I'd go anywhere she asked; follow her to prison and break her out just as fast, "Always." I said.

Half an hour later we were surrounded on all sides by row upon row of velvety green-topped trees.

Stumbling over yet another fallen branch I asked, "Is the thing you wanted to show me athletes foot? Because I think I'm getting close."

"We're nearly there Castle..." She paused, and then her lips stretched into a wide smile and she shouted, "Look!"

In front of us stood an abandoned caravan, an illustration of golden rust swirled around the two glass-less windows and the sinking roof was blanketed with heavy emerald-green moss. It's elegant structure took up most of the clearing, a serene glow of sunlight seeping through the trees like a spotlight.

"Wow." I said.

Kate bit her lip shyly, and I realised how special this place was to her; that she was showing me part of herself. I held my breath as she led the way inside.

The inside of the caravan was just as amazing; colourless photos aged on the crumbling bookshelves, old deck chairs stood timeless on the grass-carpet covered with so much ivy that they were soft and green, and an earthy bookish smell lingered in every dusty corner.

Later I'd transform the caravan into a mansion in my first ever book; describe twirling staircases and glittering chandeliers in the grand halls of the place we worked to solve our first mystery; over time that abandoned caravan would become our mansion. That was the first place that Kate could forget her perfect parents' high expectations, and I could forget my absent mother's lack of them: it was the first place that had felt like home.

"God this place is amazing." I turned to Kate, grinning "My mum would hate it so much." Carelessly I ran a fingertip over the heavy layer of dust that covered the dashboard, it came away easily, glittering like fairy dust on my skin.

"So would mine," she stood taller and jutted her chin forward in a fairly accurate impression of her mother, "'Katie this whole caravan's a health hazard!'" Beckett paused, smiling at something she wouldn't say out loud.

"What?"

"No, it's nothing."

"What?" I repeated.

"I was just thinking that my mum would like you." I grinned smugly and Kate rolled her eye before going on, "My dad though... He wouldn't like you, you know, even if you weren't an annoying 9 year old."

"Thanks!" I said, laughing.

"Well he's not going to like the random guy who hangs out with his daughter, is he?" She said, shrugging.

"I would've thought he'd be used to that."

Kate shifted, her dark hair curtaining her face, but not before I spotted the colour that had painted her cheeks; a dusty pink that made my heart clench in my chest.

"It's not like he's had much experience with... scaring off possible suitors." She mumbled.

"Seriously?" I gaped at her, "Oh come on, what guy has ever turned you away?"

"If you haven't noticed I'm not exactly the most feminine girl around. Apparently most guys don't like knowing their girlfriend could beat them in a fist fight."

I nodded sympathetically. Kate ducked behind one of the plastic chairs, and turned her back on me until I touched her arm and she stopped, looking up slowly.

"You deserve better than douches whose pride rides on some kind of stone-age idea of masculinity." I said firmly.

Kate smiled shyly. "You're beyond that though?" She asked, quirking one eyebrow in that knowing look I can imagine her giving our kids one day when they ask her why they can't eat jellybeans for dinner.

"Oh yeah! I have no doubt that you could take me. And I like to look after my appearance and there's nothing wrong with that." I shrugged.

"And you can't skateboard, and on the way over here you jumped a mile because a car splashed us."

"I like these shoes." I paused, "But this isn't about me."

"No, specifically it's about you being metrosexual." Kate teased, her eyes glinting with her smile.

"Not quite..." I took a deep breath and turned to face Kate completely, holding her gaze as I spoke firmly, "It's about how the best thing about spending time with someone is solving their mysteries; memorising every word of their story. And if someone doesn't care enough to look past traits which they ignorantly see as unfeminine then they don't deserve to see you."

Kate bit her lip over a smile and sighed, "As nice an idea as that is I'm not that interesting anyway. And I'm sorry to disappoint, but there's no story here."

I shook my head insistently, "There's always a story."

"It's funny you say that, because I've heard Suzzie Manis is a great... storyteller."

I groaned, "You heard about that?"

Suzzie was one of my most recent... conquests, a gorgeous fiery red-head with a smile like a rabid hyena and a laugh to match.

"Yep." Kate smirked, crossing next arms.

"Urgh." I groaned.

"That's what she said."

Kate's black-rimmed eyes widened and a thick grin spread over my lips. At the same time we burst into the kind of tumbling laughter that was still rolling away when we'd forgotten what was so funny.

After a while we managed to stop the uncontrollable outbursts of laughter that would break free every time one of us would come close to stopping, and we were left in the quiet warmth of the caravan, the slight smiles that hung over our faces the only hint of the previous outbreak.

A few hours later we were making our way back through the forest, and I was explaining how I'd been kicked out of history for supposedly starting a fight after correcting my peer's use of 'whom' when Beckett froze mid-step.

"Duck." She said,

"Wha-"

"Duck. Now. Behind that bush."

"Can't make it back to my place, Beckett?" I joked.

"Shut up." She growled, pushing me into a crouching position behind a thick bush and knelling next to me.

After a few moments a middle-aged runner stopped to stretch, resting one leg on top of a fallen branch and leaning forward.

"As much fun as this is, what are we doing?" I murmured out of the corned of my mouth.

"I thought I heard something."

"That would be the sound of tumbleweed rolling in the distance."

Kate sighed, "Castle."

"What? Not even a smile? Tumbleweed; like in westerns," I let out a sharp breath of childish frustration, "it was a joke." I added.

"Castle." She said, more firmly this time.

"No I get it, you clearly have awful taste in movies as well as TV shows."

Eyes still glued firmly to the distance Kate gasped, her palm coming to press firmly over my mouth while I mumbled something about the wrong kind of appropriate touching into her hand.

I turned to the scene ahead of us at the sound of heavy boots on cracking branches. Two men in black ski-masks and the body-type I would describe as 'chimney-shaped' stepped into the clearing on solid steps.

"Well that can't be good." I muttered into Beckett's hand.

The scene in front of us unfolded with quick, precise movements; the rapid spin of the runner to face the men, his shocked expression and rushed pleas. The shorter of the two pulled a gun from his belt and pointed it at the runner, pulling the trigger while he was halfway through asking them why.

It only took one shot. One silent shot and he was falling.

We jumped closer together at the empty sound, glimpsing the swirl of blood that seemed to fall away the moment before he fell with a heavy thud, the branches and leaves cracked around him, rising up like memory-foam and falling twice as fast.

Kate dug into her pocked for her phone, nearly dropping it in her haste, somehow she maintained that calm edge to her voice when she whispered rapidly to the police. I guess I should've known then that she'd grow up to be an extraordinary homicide detective.

At the sound of sirens the two men ran off in opposite directions, one reaching to pick the bullet and wallet from the victim like he was pulling weeds.

Kate rushed forward when they were out of sight, pressed her fingertips to the runner's pulse-point.

"Is he..?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Dead?" She asked quietly, giving such a small nod I almost missed it, "yeah."

The police arrived with blazing torches and sharp orders, clumps moving around the runner and pasting yellow tape in strips. After they'd taken our statements and realised we couldn't describe the men we were thanked for our time and told to go home. It was then that looked over at Kate for the first time since she'd confirmed the runner as dead. She was paler than usual, silent and shivering and avoiding my gaze. I'd give her some space, I decided after a moment, gave her the walk out of the trees to catch her breath.

"Beckett..." I said when we were stood on the road outside of school again.

She blinked rapidly, as if coming out of a dream. Her eyes were dark, flickered away every time I tried to catch them with mine.

"I've got to get home." She muttered, started to walk away from me.

"Kate."

She didn't turn, her usual calm confidence replaced by something far darker.

The Kate I knew was carefree and impulsive. Years later she'd be a different person, her tilted smile weighted and our sidelong glances veiled by the past, and it'd take a while; I'd have to scratch and claw for every inch, but I'd find her again, falling deeper with every fraction of the person I fell in love with.

Every time she walked away from me since I remembered that first night, and every time since I've chased after her like I did that very first time, knowing it's worth every step.

That night I found myself standing on the silent street outside Beckett's house, not knowing yet what I'd say or even why my feet had taken me there when my mum told me that she was going to the theatre for the night. I was uncharacteristically dissatisfied by the prospect of takeout pizza and a mouthful of whipped cream for desert, and found myself walking to Kate's house long after it had started to get dark.

A thick welcome mat crunched under my feet and the porch light shone down like a spotlight when I reached the door and knocked.

When the door swung open a hearty glow was emitted from it's frame, a tall man with wrinkles rippling around the pools of his eyes held the door open.

"Can I help you?" He smiled kindly.

"Hi, I'm Rick, I'm a friend of Bek-Kate's... And I was wondering if she's around?"

His eyes narrowed and the ripples sharpened. I realised then where Kate got her eyes from- and her glare. Mr. Beckett took in my expensive jeans and carefully combed hair sceptically, "you don't look like one of Katie's friends."

"Thank you." I replied automatically.

"Jim, who is it?" A soft female voice called from inside the house.

Joanna Beckett was ten-times more intimidating than Jim despite being a foot shorter; her stance was almost identical to the one Kate had imitated earlier, her back straight and head held high, and there was something about her knowing brown eyes that made me sway on my feet. She stood close to her husband in the doorway and they shared a look weighted with more adoration than I knew was possible.

"You must be Rick." Johanna's voice had the same underlying steel as Kate's. I stiffened when she paused, her eyes skating over me, their flickering reminding me of the way a computer de-codes a sequence. Then she smiled, tilted and familiar and asked, "have you eaten?"

"Thanks but I don't want to intrude-"

"Oh no it's not intrusion at all." She motioned me into the warm house, calling out as she did so "Katie!"

"Castle." Kate said.

I looked up to see a very angry Kate Beckett, her usual dark attire, tonight in the form of baggy pyjama bottoms and a long sleeved shirt, was broken up a shock of pink fluffy socks.

"You left your pen." I said pulling a Biro out of my pocket and offered it to her.

"That's not my pen." She said without looking at it.

"Rick is staying for dinner." Her mother said smoothly, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

Kate and her father sent me matching scowls and I grinned back.

Dinner was delicious homemade spaghetti with thick slides of garlic bread. We ate in the over-sized dining room that lead on from the kitchen. The glowing orange walls were dotted with framed faces, and a mixture of comfortable furniture that was so different to the pristine glass surfaces and empty space that made up my home.

The meal was broken up by polite conversation about what I was studying in school and how Kate and I met. My recollection of our first encounter brought around bouts of laughter and catlike smiles, and even Jim seemed to lighten at the knowledge that his daughter was so far out of my league.

After helping to clear the table, Kate and I retreated to her room. It was a small space, her double bed covering the majority of the hardwood floor, and fairy lights draping like stars from the tilted ceiling. Posters covered three of the deep-purple walls, and the other was blocked entirely by a heavily-stacked bookshelf, overflowing with photos and books I promised I'd examine later.

"Cool room." I said, my voice slow with the effort of trying to remember every aging face staring back from the photos, the name of every band I'd search later on YouTube.

"Thanks."

Then we were silent for a moment or two, the flickering of a tiny broken bulb the only movement for what felt like hours. Kate sunk to sit at the edge of her bed and I moved to join her.

"You want to talk about it?" I asked finally.

Kate let out a long sigh, "Not really." and then we were silent again.

"It's just... It happened so fast, you know? One minute he was out for a casual run and then there's a silent shot and then the lights are out and he's lying there in not enough blood." Once the words started they wouldn't stop; they fell away before I realised I was saying them.

"I know." She said.

"And I feel like it should've been louder and angrier; and there should've been more blood, or more of a fight... just more, you know? Like he deserved better, if that makes any sense. I mean he had a whole life outside of that forest and now it's all over, with a single soundless, bloodless bullet. And for those two guys it was probably just another day at work. They'll go home and the won't even think about the dead runner again. And that sucks."

"It does suck." She said slowly, eyes downcast to where our feet hung off the bed; mine big in plain socks and hers small in fluffy ones.

"Thanks for your input." I joked, nudging her foot lightly with mine.

Kate shifted to cross her legs under herself, turning so that she faced me and I mirrored her actions, "No I mean it. It really sucks. And what makes it worse is that the police said that because it was a professional hit it won't be a priority case, that they may never find the killer."

"That also sucks," I added, "If had a shot of vodka for every part of this that sucked I'd be so drunk right now."

Kate seemed to consider this idea as she jumped from her seat next to me and paced her bedroom floor impatiently. She cupped her chin for a moment with her left hand, an odd thinking pose that I'd never seen before which she paired with the frowned-brow frown she gave me almost every time I spoke.

"Are you considering where to get the vodka, or trying to solve a difficult maths problem? Because I'm not great at maths, but my mum's got a pretty full liquor cabinet and I know where she keeps the key." I offered.

"I was just thinking... that we should solve the running guy's murder." She announced.

"Seriously?" I asked, meeting her steel-embellished stare with my awed one.

"Well, why not? The police said themselves that they might not catch the killer and we saw it happen."

"Beckett-" I said.

"Oh come on Castle, we can't just let them get away with it! Don't you want to know what happened? Why he was killed? Who he was? I know I'm not going to be able to sleep until I know why!"

I looked at her for a moment, allowed the seconds to stretch with her standing tall in front of the army of other Becketts that watched from their faded photos.

Eventually I spoke, "I was just going to say that I'm way ahead of you. I wrote down what we saw when I got home so I wouldn't forget anything... When it's quietened down a bit and the yellow tape's been cleared away we could go back see if we can find anything they haven't. Maybe find out enough to find some people who know the runner... Like undercover cops but so undercover that we're in no way cops."

Kate paused, her folded arms unraveling and her thickly rimmed eyes widening. She seemed to realise that her mouth was hanging open after a moment or so, at which point she closed it quickly and grinned at me without her teeth.

I grinned back, brain swimming with possibilities, "This is going to be so cool! I mean I wonder why he was killed? I bet he was a CIA. Or had intel on new-found alien life that he was threatening to release to the word... Or maybe he was in the Russian mob, or knew the whereabouts of an ancient Egyptian artefact, one that curses everyone who looks upon it's inscriptions!"

"Castle."

"No you're right; it probably wasn't because of an ancient Egyptian artefact."

Kate laughed, rolling her eyes at the theories that wouldn't improve with time.

I thought for a moment and then said, "You know nothing happened between Suzzie and me?"

Kate trapped a smile a moment to late, her eyes sparkling when she asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I just thought you should know." We shared a mutual smile before I said, "I should probably get home, but if you're still worried you won't be able to sleep I can always stay here and help."

She threw a balled up t-shirt that missed my head by an inch and called out "Goodnight, Castle!" When shut her door on her voice and the deep warmth of her room. I called out my thanks to her parents who wished me a goodnight in return. And then I was outside, walking into crisp night air, heavily strung with anticipation and flickering stars.

A/N: Hi again, sorry this took so long to post- I've had such a busy week! It was my Birthday last weekend so I wasn't able to do a lot of writing, and then this week they piled us with coursework and revision. You guys were great last chapter and as always I really appreciate support, so I hope this was worth the wait!