For a few months life was the way I'd have written it, that is, if I wrote romance novels instead of crime mysteries. We did find a few new leads, but those were discovered in between make-out sessions and overdue assignments.

An abandoned history classroom became one of our favourite places to meet during lunch. After we'd eaten with our friends we'd sneak away, tiptoeing past empty classrooms and silent lockers until we were met by the soft silence of room 105.

Most of the time she'd barely make it through the door before I captured her lips with mine, her muffled gasp falling silent on the ears of Richard III and the princes in the tower, who watched on with bemused expressions from the assortment of faded posters that covered the walls.

On one particular occasion we were and propped casually on the nearest desk like it was made to stage make-out sessions. Beckett's fingers were twisted into my shirt and my lips fused to the soft skin of her neck; I was waiting for the fire-alarm to warn of unearthly hotness when she decided to share her most resent insight regarding the Runner's case.

"Maybe his father in law did it." Beckett said (gasped).

"I'm not an expert, but I think you're doing the whole dirty talk thing wrong."

Kate's response broke off into a breathy sigh when nipped playfully at her neck.

A moment later her hands tightened in my hair, tugging slightly so that she could look at me.

"Seriously Castle."

Her hair was soft and directionless after half an hour of my fingers running through it, her lips red and swollen and her eyes slowly regaining their sharpness. It was hard to concentrate on anything other than making the perfect heart-shaped hickey on her neck when she looked like that, but as much as I wanted to save this talk for another time lunch ended in fifteen minutes, and it was properly best for both of us if we didn't have to go through the same ordeal as last night. (My mother has given us two of her best knowing looks and mentioned something about Kate's lipstick suiting me).

I sighed, "Okay. Why him?"

Beckett took a deep breath, "well. Think about how it was done: it looks like a professional hit, which means that the killer must've been hired, seeing as he wasn't into anything government-related or illegal. So who would want to kill him?-"

I hopped off the desk in excitement. Began to pace the creaking floors with the kind of enthusiasm they had never known.

"-everyone says he's a nice guy. But The Runner is nearing on middle-age, and he's starting to think about the dreams he once had; the dreams he left behind so long ago. When one day he realises that the wants more. He dives into a world of mystery and madness, where assassins roam the streets and danger glints around every corner-"

Beckett scoffed and I looked up.

"-Castle this isn't a spy movie- we're not calling our killer an 'assassin'."

"Highly trained killer?"

"No."

"Ninja?"

"Nope."

"Gun-wielding Indiana Jones?"

"No."

I sighed again, "Beckett you're really not giving me a lot to work with here."

She rolled her eyes, shifted further in her seat on the desk to face me, "how does the father-in-law look as a suspect?"

"He was the only person with enough moment to hire a professional killer." I reasoned.

"Motive?"

"Money. Wanted full ownership of the company. Runner owned him money, right?"

"Right. Yeah, that would make sense..." Kate considered.

"But?"

"It just... doesn't feel right."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." I sighed. I realised I'd walked halfway across the classroom and was now face-to-face with the window.

I turned ninety degrees to face Kate. Despite her disheveled appearance her eyes were set with determination. I returned to my seat next to her.

"This feels personal, doesn't it?" Beckett said, "The hit itself was clearly planned and yet..."

"And yet the reason behind it, the fact that they knew he'd be running at that time... not to mention all of he problems in his personal life; they all suggest a personal motive, more depth than a professional hit would make us believe."

"Exactly." Beckett sighed thoughtfully, pressing her lips together with the force of her consideration. Now when she mirrors that expression a detailed murder board takes the force of her frustration instead of the wall of an empty classroom.

"I know that we're trying to solve a murder right now, but the way your brow furrows when your thinking? It's adorable."

Kate turned to me with a raised eyebrow, but she couldn't contain the hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"You're not so bad yourself, Castle."

She nudged me playfully and I shoved back. Kate let out the kind of weightless giggle that would make grown-up Beckett shudder in embarrassment, and I had to catch her arm to stop us both from toppling off the desk.

Somehow her hands ended up twined around my neck and my lips fused to hers. As our breaths mingles the classroom seemed to disappear. For me there was only Kate; her soft lips and nipping teeth, and the creaking protests of the desk under us.

We broke apart at the sound of books crashing to the floor.

I looked down absently, only to find my backpack and the entirety of it's contents displayed proudly on the dusty classroom floor.

In the seconds that followed the only sound for what felt like miles was the heavy tick of the large industrial clock and our breathing.

When I turned back to Kate she ducked her head, hiding the red-velvet blush covering her cheeks.

Silently, she scooted closer and leant her head against my shoulder. And I could feel the tug of her lips when she smiled against me.

I followed her gaze to the heavily-postered wall. My eyes were met by the 6 sets of Henry VIII's wives.

"Oh my god we just made-out in front of Anne Boyne." Kate muttered, nodding at the poster directly opposite us.

"Well out of all of Henry's wives I'd say she's the hottest."

"Urgh, Castle." Beckett grimaced.

"Yeah, you're right. She must be nearly 300 now."

"So not my point."

The door slammed open and we visibly jumped.

"Hi Kitten!"

In the entrance of the doorway stood all 5ft 1" of blonde bombshell Audra Dobson. She was the head cheerleader for our football team 'The Hornets', sugary-sweet with honey-blonde hair and a sting to match. Upon seeing her flitter past in the corridor one day Beckett had appropriately crowned her 'Queen Bee'.

"Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?" She carried on without letting me answer, "Sandra told me she that saw you come in here," she sent me a sticky-sweet smile, "but she didn't mention that you had... company."

Her eyes narrowed as she took in Kate's mused hair and my crumpled shirt, and I had to stifle a snort.

"Oh it's fine. I was just leaving." Beckett grinned back, showing too much teeth. And I decided that jealous Beckett was one of my favourite kinds of Beckett.

Kate thumbed my still swollen lower-lip with an escaping half-smile.

I admired the smudge of lipgloss that stained her finger.

She raised an eyebrow and purred, "See you by my locker?"

I nodded dumbly and she smirked.

Beckett hopped down from the desk, sashaying past Audra, the heels of her heavy docmartins clicking with twice the amount of authority as the other girl's delicate kitten heels, and I watched her walk away open-mouthed.

I barely remembered to listen when Audra started talking.

"... And that's why I was thinking that you might like to take me to prom."

"Uh, what?"

"Oh, Kitten... You can't seriously believe that Kate Beckett would be seen at a high school prom? I'm she's she'll be making out with hairy bikers or preaching about recycling or whatever it is that she does... But you... Now you would look just great in a tux. Why waste all of that potential, hm?" She said, nearing me with every word, until finally she was standing close and flattening my Beckett-ruffled shirt.

"Um. I can't be certain, but I'm nearly 40% sure that Beckett is my girlfriend, and you seem really, uh, hot, and everything, but I think I'm going have to decline your offer..."

I tried to think of some other adjectives but came up empty, because Audra may have well been worth all of the adjectives in Merriam, but she still wouldn't have been Kate.

Audra pouted, her candyfloss-pink lips doubling in size, clearly surprised, but not all that wounded. I imagined I was the tenth guy on her list of possible dates and not the last.

"Okay, but save me a dance?" She dropped her hands and turned to leave.

I nodded slowly. Knowing that I wouldn't want to sacrifice even one song's worth of time that could be spend with Kate. But I almost felt sorry for Audra, because she had over ten people on her list instead of one, so I said "Sure."

"Hi." I grinned.

I was next to Beckett's locked when she slammed it shut.

"What did the queen bee want with you?" She inquired, spinning to lean against her locker.

I refrained from commenting on her sudden impatience or the rapid back and forth of her eyes, and just said "A prom date."

One of Kate's eyebrows shot up and she busied herself with her suddenly interesting history textbook.

"What did you say?" She asked casually.

I pulled the book out of her hands with a sigh and her eyes snapped up to meet mine.

"I said no."

An almost-smile crinkled her lips.

"Of course I said no."

"Because prom is just about the saddest, most over-produced tradition out there?" She asked, like she hoped that there was another reason.

"That, and the fact that honey bee only wants a bit of sugar." I wiggled my eyebrows playfully.

Kate laughed, quickly cut herself off with a sudden head-shake, "you have officially ruined my sense of humour."

"Well then we're even. Because I turned down a pretty impressive date-offer for you."

She bit her lip, "For me, huh?"

"Yep. Now I have to compare every girl- and you know how they flock- to you. And how is anyone supposed to compare to The Kate Beckett?"

Kate stifled a smile, her eyes twinkling without permission.

"What are you doing on prom night, anyway?" She back-pedalled.

"Well the guys have this huge prank planned so I was going to help out with that... But if you have any other ideas I'm open to suggestions."

The heavy bell sounded the end of lunch and Beckett and I stepped into our usual Thursday-afternoon routine without thinking.

"There's this poetry slam at a place down the road for mine." Kate went on, "Thought it might be cool. Starts pretty late though so you could meet me after the prank... What are you planning on doing exactly?"

"Oh it's going to be so cool Beckett, seriously." I started, "We've been planning it for months... Hey, you could come!"

Beckett eyed me with understandable wariness.

"Yeah, okay, you officially don't have a choice on the matter. You're coming." I decided.

Kate laughed, our footsteps slowing as the door to her class drew closer.

"Sounds like a date." She smirked, turned to the open door of her biology class, "Kitten."

A few weeks later, on the night of prom, Beckett and I stood face-to-tail with a rather large, rather fragrant cow.

"Castle what the hell."

I looked over at her, and I couldn't help but snigger at her open-mouthed expression.

"I feel like I'm going to regret asking this, but where did you get her from?"

I gave the cow a casual pat. She tugged at the rope tying her to one of the football posts half-heartlessly, and reached forward to free a huge chunk of grass from the field.

"The black market."

Kate raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Urgh, come on Beckett. You take the fun out of it!"

"Castle." She folded her arms. "The cow."

I sighed, "fine. Bill's uncle owns a farm. He thinks it's for a school project or something. Which, considering Bill's school record, I'm pretty surprised was something he believed."

Kate considered this for a moment, and then, "what are you planning on doing with her?"

I grinned proudly, "we're putting her on the roof."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

"Why?"

I shrugged, "Something about the opposing football team."

"You hate football."

"Yes but I love putting animals of roofs. And football rivalry is providing the perfect excuse to do so." I pulled the two costume bee-wings that I'd borrowed from my mother out of my bag.

Beckett took one pair obediently, with only a hint of resentment.

I pulled the straps of mine over my shoulders and flexed the dainty wings proudly.

I grinned at Beckett. "Go Hornets!"

The silent campus was destructed periodically by a series of bored moo's. After four flights of stairs and the realisation that cows can only walk up them and not down, we made it to the roof.

We stood there in the near-silence, in a huddle of our peers, admiring our work. The cow stood dissatisfied on roof and we watched like proud parents as she ate chunks of the grass and slurped mouthfuls of water from the trophs we'd left there earlier after. (Beckett had complained about the animal cruelty aspect of our prank).

I grinned down at Kate and she smiled back, that small, happy smile that still makes my heart ache after all these years.

The police sirens pierced through the veil of dark anticipation we had created the way a needle pricks skin.

I grabbed Kate's hand in the almost-black and squeezed, her eyes meeting mine for a panicked moment before we took off running. The thick huddle of us breaking away in a blur of excitement and fear.

We made it back to my mother's car in record time, sped away before we could be caught; breathless and laughing so much that I still wonder how I managed not to crash. And I drove so fast that on top of everything else I knew that we'd be arrested for speeding if we were caught.

After what felt like a lifetime, but were probably a few adrenaline-fueled hours, I pulled over at a sight-seeing stop far enough away that we wouldn't be found.

For some reason I thought that it was a good idea to disguise ourselves in the neglected costumes my mother left in the boot of her car.

Even now I kind of wish that we we caught. Solely for the comical value of serious, unwavering Detective Beckett having a police record that said, "tried to put cow on the roof" and a mug shot capturing the perfect image that she made with a pink feather boa draped around her neck, rhinestone tiara adorning her windswept hair and crocked bee-wings flapping every time she moved.

It was almost dark outside, and the air was almost cold around us. But we hardly noticed, sat comfortably on the face of my mother's expensive car dressed like aristocrats.

"I'm sorry the police found out about the cow." Beckett said softly. She tapped my velvet top-hat sympathetically,

"I'm sorry you didn't get to go to watch a hairy guy complain about withdrawal symptoms."

Beckett tutted.

Her passion and interest in everything atypical was something I loved about her. Every detail that I'm still learning day by day only draws me in closer. Which I think is something I hope she'll eventually understand.

"You do remember that you're the one who's English literature next year?"

She seemed to realise what she'd said the second I did. An odd air of uneasiness lingered, heavy like the density of heat. This was uneven ground for us. This was one explored topic that I was happy to avoid for as long as possible. Kate wanted to study law and I English, and that was all we knew for certain.

So I made no attempt to answer.

I didn't know if it was love that we felt for each other, or if it was just a strong sense of liking that grew every time she so much as looked at me.

So we didn't talk about the future.

I forced out a fake-sigh of regret, "ah damn it."

"What?"

"I promised Audra I'd save her a dance."

Beckett snorted, "if it makes you feel any better you can dance with my backpack right now and have the same experience."

I laughed, shaking my head in mock-disapproval, "well that wasn't very nice, was it Beckett?"

She scoffed, "yeah, well. Maybe I'm not up for sharing you."

I shifted closer on the car-bonnet so that our knees were touching. Nudged my shoulder with hers and smiled.

"I'm all yours."

A slow smile took over her face, lighting each slope and edge feature by feature.

"You look beautiful tonight." I said suddenly.

Kate looked taken-aback for a moment. She raised her eyebrows finally. "It's the tiara right?"

I laughed, "it suits you." But at her sceptical expression my voice turned serious, "you're always beautiful." I amended, "maybe it's just that I can see you clearly in this light."

"I do tend to look better in the dark." She joked.

"Nu-uh." I shook my head firmly, "I don't want to hear any of this 'but these jeans make my butt look big' crap. Just take the complement, Beckett."

Kate smiled teasingly, "These jeans make my butt look big, do they?"

As an adult, Kate is comfortable enough in her body to walk around the kitchen with one of my silk shirts slipping against her bare skin. She told me recently that it's taken a while, but slowly the face in the mirror grew into someone she thought was beautiful too; that after all of the years her eyes have adjusted to the light.

Teenage Kate was still figure out who she was and what she wanted from life, and all she saw when she looked in the mirror was her roots coming through the black dye.

So I took an exaggerated look behind her, tilting my head as if considering the options on a menu or the meaning of a poem. Eventually I decided upon a sincere "Absolutely huge."

Kate laughed, her hair falling back and the sound ringing on into the night, and I remember thinking that her laugh matched the the glimmering magic of a shooting star the way sadness matches blue.

I wanted to bottle that sound. Wanted to freeze the moment and play it back whenever I felt like there wasn't enough good in the world. Because it was in that moment; in that snapshot of time with her dark hair tumbling down her back and her laugh tumbling into the darkness, that I was sure.

This was more than a strong sense of liking.

The rest of the year passed easily, with overdue assignments finally being handed in, and our after-school meet-ups spend pawing through textbooks until finally we could recite paragraphs at a time.

By the time we graduated prom-night seemed like a lifetime ago. Now all we had left was a summer of freedom, and the certainty of late nights at the caravan and early mornings in our favourite coffee shop, before a lifetime of uncertainty.

And then one day a few weeks into our seemingly endless summer, my phone rang after a long day investigating the case.

So far very lead circled around the runner's father in law and wife before trailing off. And I knew that we needed more information- because all we had was countless secret interviews and vague pieces of gossip. That day we had found a shell casing lost in one of the bushes.

The voice that spoke through my phone was a recorded message and the number blocked.

"Hello?"

"You are meddling in things beyond your understanding, Richard. There are powerful people involved who would do anything to stop the truth from coming put, and by continuing to investigate you're only putting yourself and Katherine in harm's way. If you ignore this warning, you will have to deal with the price of your decision. If you try to contact the police, you will met by one of our own waiting for you there. Chose your decisions wisely Richard. I will not tell you again."

Before I could answer a loud beep singled the end of the message and my screen blackened. I could have imagined the call if it wasn't for the rapid beating of my heart and the rapid pulse of adrenaline that told me to just run. But where? I knew I didn't even have enough evidence to take to the police, even if it was safe.

And in that moment walking back from the caravan in untied shoes and a lot of uncertainty, all I knew was that I couldn't let them hurt Beckett.

Later that night I arrived outside Beckett's house and waited. For the first time I didn't take a moment to admire the spotlessly clean windows or the cheerful scattering of flowerpots. Glimmering smudges were clear in clouded moonlight, and the plants made shadows like monsters with curled fingers stretched out in invitation.

I walked up the winding path knowing I probably never would again, but didn't consider to memorise the sound of gravel crunching under my feet.

Maybe because it didn't feel real. Since the call I'd been acting on autopilot, the parts of my brain that usually told me to sleep or eat or breathe all lending of their energy to the part that decided how to survive.

I needed to protect Beckett. And the only way she was going to stop was if I wasn't around, at least for a little while. She'd avoid the case because it was too directly related to me. But if I told her the truth she'd only dig deeper; deeper into a hole we couldn't escape. And I couldn't let that happen; couldn't watch as she threw away her future for something we had no part in. Something we might not even be able to put right.

I knocked three times and waited.

Kate was in her pyjamas when she opened the door. A baggy t-shirt and flannel trousers. Somehow that made it harder.

"Hey Castle." She greeted me with a sleepy smile.

"Hey... We um, we need to talk."

"Should I be worried?" Beckett joked, opening the door in invitation, but I remained rooted to the spot.

"Kate..."

She froze at the use of her first name, her smiling slipping away like water.

"We haven't spoken about next year. About what it means for us." I said quickly, not wasting any time.

"Right..." She nodded slowly, "You want to come inside and talk about it?"

"I think it'd be better if I didn't."

Kate's shoulders slumped and she asked quietly, "have I done something wrong?"

"No. No... But..."

"But?" Kate sighed, "Castle if you have something to say just come out and say it."

"I think that we should stop seeing each other."

She recoiled sharply. "I'm sorry?"

"In a few months we're going to different universities and we're never going to see each other anyway. So we might as well end it now."

"Okay, what? Are you serious? You're not kidding?"

I shook my head slowly.

"I thought we were going to make it work."

"I'm not sure if that's possible anymore."

Kate shook her head so firmly her dark hair trembled at her shoulders.

"I don't..." She let out a puff of air and gave me that analytical, measuring look she'd learn from her mother.

"Did something happen? If it's not something I did then what? Why all of a sudden?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while now. And I just can't keep pretending that nothing's going to change. Everything is going to be different. And we need to accept that."

"Who even are you right now?" Kate demanded.

I opened my mouth to say something but she went on before I could.

"You were the one person I could rely on!" Her voice cracked like the glass we were treading but she didn't seem to feel it. Or to care.

"You were the one person who would keep on believing even when there's no hope left. And yes it was stupid and dangerous because eventually we all get hurt. And I thought you were an idiot, because, yeah, you're right; nothing lasts forever. And we might die tomorrow, or we might live another ninety years years, but you're supposed to believe because that's just who you are. And you're my idiot and I... " she faltered, trailed off.

I hated them in that moment; the killer, his gold digging wife, his dippy daughter, his gambling father-in-law, even the runner himself for getting killed and making me wish I was dead too.

Kate's heart always was protected by iron ribs, and thick skin scarred form the time she fell off her bike when she was 8. She'd finally let me in. And I'd written my name on her skin in permanent ink and crushed her fragile heart into dusk.

I barely registered Kate sniffing, swaying in the doorway so much smaller than me.

"It's like you said, right? We're partners. Before I met you I didn't think I'd ever need anyone. But I do: I do need you. And I'm not saying that I can't live without you... But I don't want to." She finished quietly, growing scared in realisation of what her words meant. And all I could think was 'me too, Kate.'

"You make me happier than I knew was possible, and you don't get to take that away like it's nothing."

"Kate... Please don't make this harder than it needs to be..."

"Oh I'm making this hard, am I?" She fired back, one eyebrow shooting up in the dangerous expression I'd miss.

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I don't feel like I know anything anymore..."

Kate grimaced, and I waited in the heavy silence.

"Just do one thing for me?"

I nodded warily.

Kate took a step closer, her eyes bearing into mine until I thought she could see the truth just from the strength of her gaze.

"Look me in the eyes, and say that you don't feel anything; that all of this has just been fun for you. Because you know what, Rick? I sure as hell can't."

I chocked on my breath. The world stilling, air swirling, and Kate just waiting.

"This has been fun. I'm not saying it wasn't but that's all it was." I said carefully, my heart beating out of my chest, screaming out in protest.

Kate shook her head slowly in the saddest kind of amazement.

She took a shaky breath.

"I'm not going to beg you to stay. I just want to understand why."

I held her endless green eyes and forced myself not to falter. I knew there was only way she'd listen; only one thing I could say that would stop her from chasing after me.

"It's us." Kate opened her mouth and I raised my arms in defence, "Wait, just, don't, please don't say anything until I'm finished?"

She nodded slowly and I carried on.

"I never meant this... thing between us to get so serious. I'm just not in that place."

The truth was that I was so rooted to that place that I was falling through the ground.

"I want more than this. We're going to university next year, and then we'll probably never see each other again anyway. So what does it matter whether it's today or in a few months time, because it's going to end. Everything ends."

"You really believe that?"

I nodded slowly.

"Then just know that before we met I didn't believe in anything. But you've made me realise that magic isn't just about rabbits in top hats and disappearing men in sparkly leotards. You showed me magic in the your fingers fill the spaces between mine; and the way the coffee you make from the rusty machine in the canteen is the best I've ever tasted. And if I don't know you then I know anything at all."

Her eyes were glassy with tears but she held my gaze.

In that moment it was all I wanted to pull her close and hold her until the pain stopped. I had to clench my fists at my sides to stop myself from reaching out to touch her.

My voice was weak when I murmured "I'm sorry." And I was sorry; so sorry that it felt like the blood in my veins had been replaced with liquid sorrow.

She caught her quivering lip, punished it with her teeth and nodded, her whole body shuddering. Braking apart so that I could finally see her the way she was underneath it all. And I felt unworthy,

"Kate..." Her name slipped out without permission with the tear that ran across her cheek.

She sniffed loudly and shook her head. Eventually Kate took a ragged breath and looked up at me, jaw firmly set.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're doing. Because I don't believe you, Castle. I don't believe a word you're saying, and if you think even for one minute that you can waltz back into my life like nothing happened in a few months time then you can think again."

I held my breath as she took two slow steps towards me, bare feet tapping against the hardwood floor.

I don't know what I was expecting; her to slap me or scream or cry, but all she said was "Goodnight." And somehow that hurt more. Because for the first time since I believed my mother would never come back from fifth broadway tour, I didn't have the faith to say 'until tomorrow.'

I left in a silence that was echoing after the rising of our voices. For once I had nothing left to say.

In that last moment before I fell into the cold I was dully aware that I may never see her again. My whole body pulsed with loss. In the years to come that wouldn't fade; I'd grow so accustomed to it that I'd hardly notice, the steady thrum like a second heartbeat.

In a way I was glad, because it was almost like I never left her side, the burning in my veins a constant reminder of what we had. And what we lost.

A/N: Okay firstly, If you want to scream about the two-parter then scream at me because all of my friends are incredibly calm about Castle!

So this has been nearly complete for ages now but I've pretty much been hording this chapter because I was scared to post it. Yep. I'm really amazed and grateful for those of you who are still reading this and hope that you enjoy where this goes.

If you haven't already check out my new story "seeing Kate" and let me know if I should carry on with that because it was only meant to be a one-shot but I'm considering carrying that one on as well now.

I know the end of this chapter is a bit of a bombshell so I'd love to hear what you think and where you expect it to go, and just generally if you're still reading because so I'll know how many chapters to narrow the ending down to. Anyway thank you lovely people!