A/N: Okay time for a big explanation of the logic of this fic:

In my mind the Castle and Beckett are 27 where this picks up, this gives time for Beckett to have been university for a while until she dropped out after her mother died, to have trained at the police academy and be in training with Royce as a patrol officer (I hope that's how it works I did a little research into police training for this but correct me if I'm wrong). I imagine that she works at the 12th from the fact that we see her in Veritas talking to Montgonery looking over her mother's file in uniform and with light hair. As Beckett's dad stops drinking when she is 27 this allows that storyline to be looked into in this fic as well.

At 27 Castle has a few years for university and two years to enjoy partying and book-tours and then another to marry Meredith and have Alexis. They break up when she is around the age of three and Castle marries Gina; they are married and divorced within two years. This means that Alexis is four the coming winter and starting school in September and that Kate can be the cop that helps find Alexis when she gets lost around the age of four. (I imagine she is grudgingly stationed at the mall).

Yes, I had to do maths. Trust me this is the only way anyone will convince me to do anything that relates to numbers. And yes, it is pretty sad that I worked all of this out.

The next few weeks stretched into months and the months into years. Looking back it's hard to remember specific days. In my mind they drift in and out of focus; memories like jigsaw-puzzle pieces shaped like models in tight skirts and Gina's downturned smile; baby-shoes in bright colours and my mother's suitcase at my door.

In September I started college. I wrote to escape; I wrote to give at least the fictional version of the runner some closure; to feel like I wasn't a complete failure with the lose ends of my almost-life tripping me like untied laces. Nikki Heat remained unchanging, but somehow growing with the pieces of information I sought out from mutual friends. Until eventually my questions were answered with half-hearted shrugs. And so come the memories of wondering where she was or what she was doing; if she was laughing at the same TV show as me or buying the same type of cheese.

When I met Kyra she reminded me so much of Kate that I nearly fell in love with her. But I couldn't bring myself to run after her, because I knew that she deserved someone who could love her with more than half of their heart. The other half of mine still belonged to Kate, captured as I saw her that last good day; clad in ripped jeans and a rhinestone tiara.

In the blur of book tours the year after I finished college there was the day I thought I saw her at one of my book signings; an older better better-kept version of Kate with heavily heeled boots and light hair, who stood watching from the doorway with a ghost of a smile and a first edition copy of heatwave clutched like a lifeline in her hands. The phantom Kate left as soon as she'd came, and for hours after I was haunted by the strangest sense of loss.

Countless hazy parties are remembered by the faces that looked like her with enough drinks. The faces I met were shiny and swollen with someone else's idea of perfect. And I thought distantly that Kate was never perfect; that we squabbled over my childish fantasies and her clipped sarcasm; and her eyeliner was always smudged around the edges and our conversations rushed with too much coffee and not enough sense, but suddenly it didn't matter that my lips against hers were slopping and chase before class, or that she listened to the kind of music that was so loud and shouty that you had to focus and tilt your head to catch the words; because those last kisses kept me sane through chemistry that year, and because of me the crappy slow songs on the shouty CD finally made sense. And we'd been doing just fine without each other, but she made everything so much brighter.

I have a quiet memory from the early hours of one morning alone in a city I'd never see again. I remember it as the morning I promised myself that I'd find solid ground one day; even if it couldn't be the place I'd created in my books: with the fire of Nikki Heat flickering with the gentle warmth of Kate; where the mornings were never spent alone, and room-service was replaced with pancakes that she'd drizzle with syrup and lemon, and he'd wrap his arms around her and whisper that he loved her, that he always had. I was glad that at least that world existed in paper.

When I met Meredith she was so tragically different to Kate that I didn't have to almost see her almost-perfect smile everyday, and for a while that was better- at least until it wasn't. Until I started to forget the warmth of Kate's chiming laugh, or the coldness of her fragile tears, and I realised I hadn't felt anything for Meredith in a long time. Maybe even ever. I decided I'd rather have a broken heart than a numb one, and when Meredith left neither of us even cared enough to raise our voices. She said that I was a stranger; that with all the broken pieces of herself she gave I only offered the complete ones of myself, and that it just wasn't enough.

The otherwise wasted years gave me Alexis, and somehow she grew to be impossibly part of Kate. Being her dad gave my life purpose. I took her to the park everyday and to the museum at weekends, and we played with lightsabers and tea-sets and made her pre-school science projects out of paper mâché and paint. And every time I looked down at her sleeping smile under the floating planets and dinosaurs that hung from her celling, I knew that I'd done something right.

Despite my lifelong goal to be a 'cool dad', when it came to danger being within hundred mile radius of Alexis all of my paternal instincts would kick in at once and I'd begin brainstorming all of the worst possible scenarios. Alexis sneezes? It's the Black Death; it's back and it's hungry for adorable redheads. Alexis' hands are cold? She must have hypothermia- I'm going to be the reason she never learns how to write the second half of her name.

One day in the summer before her fourth birthday, Alexis got lost at the mall. All of the impossible endings surged like voices in my head and I waited for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

The entire building was swarming with police officers, buzzing around in matching blue and black, with flickering eyes that were paid to anticipate the worst, holding onto your moving form if you lingered too long at the watches; now they searched for the spots of bright colours that I'd described Alexis as wearing: the flower print of her sweater and the leafy-green of her tiny shoes.

After half an hour of panicked waiting, Alexis appeared through the dispersing crowd of shoppers.
"Alexis!"

She looked up at me, grinning sound of her name. Running towards me her tiny shoes tapped on the linoleum floor, and I remember thinking that she was still so young,- that if she tripped I would be too far away to catch her.

I knelt down to catch her and she flung herself into my arms, the force of the blow enough to nearly knock me backwards.

"I was so worried!" I muttered into her hair, kissing the twin fountains of her copper pigtails as I spoke.

"I was tired and the coats looked comfy." Alexis paused, her eyes darted to catch something in the distance, "A lady tripped over me. But she brought me to you!"

"Pumpkin, what have I told you about wandering off?"

Her shoulders slumped, "I'm sorry daddy."

"Just never scare me like that again, okay?"

She nodded firmly, her tiny backpack jumping with the force of it, "promise."

I smiled. "Good girl." And gave her one last hug, squishing her small frame until she laughed and batted my arms away.

When I looked up I had the strangest feeling of being watched. My eyes landed on a woman about my age wearing a baggy police uniform and an unreadable expression.

Oh.

I could see the outline of her behind it all; her slanted smile behind those sealed lips; the curves I'd mapped with my hands drowned in layers of stiff cotton.

"Kate."

It was like in that moment all of the years alone; the parties with vodka shots and the ones with store-bought cakes, they all just disappeared. And all I could see was her eyes blinking back at me, seeing the same thing. All the while that incessant beating rushed around us, pulsing at the tips of my fingers and flooding to the tight skin at the base of my feet.

She froze for a moment, eyes wide and scared. But it was only a moment. She recovered so quickly that I almost believed I'd imagined it. The movement of her eyes to mine had the lose strands of her messy bun cutting at her jaw, framing the sharp edges of her features.

The Kate I knew had soft, gentle features; rosy cheeks that filled my palms when I cupped her face, her skin flushing red at the press of my lips. Now everything about her was razor-sharp and brittle.

"It's officer Beckett." she replied evenly, walking closer with immeasurable grace.

Alexis peeked out from behind my leg and tilted her head at Kate. My daughter smiled slightly, her 4 year old mind knowing more than mine.

I knelt down to face her, "did you know she's a cop?"

Alexis shook her head, the streams of her hair swaying.

"What did I say about talking to strangers, pumpkin?"

Alexis' eyes narrowed, "s'not a stranger. She's the girl in the photo."

"What?" Beckett and I said at the same time.

Alexis' eyes darted between us in confusion. "You're Nikki Heat." She said to Kate, turning to me she added, "She's in your purse."

Ah. In my wallet sat a photo of Alexis, all big blue eyes and stark red hair, and there, in a diagonal plastic slot, was that picture of Kate from all of those years ago; laughing and dancing and beautiful, the way I wanted to remember her forever.

One day Alexis had picked up my wallet from the counter and the picture of Kate had slipped out. My daughter's tiny hands had framed Kate's face carefully, taking in the delicacy of the moment I'd captured with a small smile.

I'd told her that the woman in the photo was Nikki Heat.

Beckett narrowed her eyes. I took out my wallet quickly and stepped forward, thrusted it into her waiting hands without speaking.

"Oh." Was all she said. But a glimmer of recognition flashed over her features, and her lips stretched slightly into what was could almost be considered a smile; inexperienced and shaky, like someone learning how to laugh after a lifetime of sadness.

"You kept it?" Kate asked quietly. The edges of her voice faded and withered like the photo in her hands.

"Of course."

She looked up, just about meeting my gaze.

"You got old." Alexis said suddenly. She'd come out from her hiding place behind me and was staring up at Kate with undisguised interest.

"Alexis!" I said in a shouted-whisper.

"What?" She mouthed, swaying distractedly.

Beckett looked between us, a hint of the smile I recognised playing at her lips, and then she laughed, surprising us both. I think even she was a little surprised.

Alexis looked up. Grinning gappy-toothed amazed.

"I've got to go." Kate said flatly, her eyes not quite meeting mine. Before kneeling down to face Alexis in her 3" heels.

"You be good for your dad, okay?"

Alexis nodded rapidly.

Kate's features seemed to soften. "Good girl."

"Take care, Mr. Castle." She said without turning her head.

And then she just walked away, her hips swaying with the same rhythm; confident, like she knew that I was watching open-mouthed even now.

"That's it?" I blurted out.

She half-turned, raising one eyebrow in the expression I'd spent years trying to conjure up in my mind. Then suddenly all of her carefully constructed control seemed to fall apart.

"What did you expect?" You want me to thank you for basing a character on me? 'Oh Castle I'm so honoured, please, sign my breasts!' Do you know how much b-" she broke off, her eyes flickering to Alexis, "-... What the people I work with would say if they knew?"

Alexis stared up at Beckett, awe dancing in her eyes at the superhero in the baggy vice uniform.

"No I just.. I don't know. I thought... I've been thinking about what what would happen if I ever saw you again... and this was not part of the plan."

Kate sighed, and for a moment the anger seemed to fade around the edges. "Yeah, well, this isn't one of your books, Castle."

"No. If it was one of my books nothing would've changed."

Beckett let out a sharp laugh, folding her arms over her badge and raising her eyebrows, "Really? It was your choice to leave. Don't blame this on the universe."

"I'm not."

"Really? Because it sure sounds like you are."

"No, look, what I meant to say was... that I'm sorry."

I paused and Beckett's eyes flickered from me to Alexis, who smiled expectantly at Kate.

"You look good." I offered. And she did; different, sure, but good. Her faded band-shirts had been replaced with a police uniform, her flowing black hair piled into a golden swirl of a messy bun.

Kate shifted awkwardly under my gaze, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Uh thanks. You look good too..."

"You wouldn't want to go for coffee sometime?"

"No I wouldn't."

"Beckett..."

She rolled her eyes, "Why, Castle? So I can be another one of your conquests?"

"I believe you were my first conquest, Kate."

She narrowed her eyes dangerously, but the pale white of her cheeks flickered red at the memory; the combination of our blurred names, not enough air and too much I between us, the frantic desire and rush of slow finality.

"People make mistakes." She bit out.

I winced, my voice softening with the ridged line of my shoulders, "They do... Do you regret it?"

She sighed, "No Castle. I don't regret it."

I allowed a small, hopeful smile. "Me neither."

Kate cleared her throat and the idea that I was coming back to her. "I can't." She said, answering my question, "I'm working tomorrow."

"Well, then maybe another time."

She rolled her eyes, "goodbye Castle."

I watched her walk away; black heels thin and curved and snapping against the polished floor. I watched her tall and elegant and leaving, and I remembered my Kate stumbling on the ice at Christmas, gripping my hand for balance and holding on.

Alexis reached up to squeeze my hand, giving me one if her knowing looks. But I just smiled, because she didn't say no.

That night I woke screaming from a dream where Alexis never appeared from beneath the coats.

A few moments later I found myself sat in the chair by her bed, propped up by a heart-shaped cushion with arms, the bulky knitted blanket my mother knitted draped over my lap, it's triangular shape only partially covering my legs.

"Daddy?" Alexis yawned, blinking away the haziness and finding me through the orange glow of her nightlight.

"Hi sweetie."

"Couldn't sleep?" She mumbled tiredly.

I shook my head.

"I was sleeping." She informed me, shuffling to sit up against pillow.

"Yeah, I know pumpkin, I'm sorry for waking you..."

"I mean under the coats. I was sleeping." She said slowly, "I'm okay."

I sighed, looked down at my slippered feet. "I know."

"Good." She gave me the kind of look a doctor gives you when you forget to take your pills.

"I was thinking about the real Nikki." She began.

"Hm?" I was thinking that she shouldn't be smarter than me even before she even starts school.

"I want you to tell me about her."

I chuckled at her serious expression, but had been expecting the question all night. "Okay."

Alexis leant forward in anticipation, eyes widened in a way that said 'well?'

"She was the most... remarkable, challenging, frustrating person I've ever met... What we had, it was special..." I trailed off, feeling wistful and nostalgic and like I probably shouldn't be telling my four year old about my love-life lest she end up in therapy before her sixth birthday.

"She was like family?"

"Yeah. She was..."

"Then you need to chase her." Alexis said firmly, something she'd learnt from the stories I told in funny voices before bed, and I could practically see fairytale endings unraveling behind her blue eyes. I saw something of Beckett there; something brave and determined that knew I wasn't 'saving' Beckett- that whatever happened we'd be slaying dragons side by side. And I knew I'd done something right.

"Sadly it's not that simple."

"But she's family to you. It seems simple," confusion pinched at my daughter's features. "I like her." She added quietly.

"I know pumpkin. So do I."

My daughter was silent for a moment, and then "Can she come for dinner?"

"Yeah." I said, wondering how I'd manage to convince her, "Maybe."

This seemed to be enough for Alexis who nodded at me through the darkness and said, "sleep now." And yawned, sinking into the nest of her quilt, "Love you."

I smiled, watched her close her eyes. "Love you too pumpkin."

I was naked on the back of a horse when Beckett pulled up with an open mouth and a car that was falling apart at the seams.

I later decided that the best way to catch her attention was probably not through criminal activity. I reasoned with her that it was spring after all, but we both knew that there was more to my impressive descent into nakedness than alcohol or the weather.

"Richard Castle!"

I smirked and looked down at Beckett, her folded arms and angry grimace not the indication it should be to play nice.

"Beckett. How nice to see you."

"I wish I wasn't seeing as much of you." She cringed as I shifted on the horse.

"Urgh Castle." She moved one hand to block a portion of her view, her cheeks growing red, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I think that's pretty self-explanatory."

Beckett let out a sigh heavy with tiredness, almost boredom; like I'd interrupted her busy schedule with the needs for imminent arrest. "I'm going to have to arrest you for public indecency."

She turned while I returned to solid ground, ignored my muttered "it's not like you haven't seen it all before!" And with one hand over her eyes presented me with her hoddie, told me to wrap the it around my waist, "hood over your - uh - you know." And then "I'm going to have to burn it." In a mutter loud enough for me to hear.

After a moment of my clumsy tying of the sleeves Beckett unclicked her handcuffs from her belt, waving them in front of me with undisguised malice.

She'd started to read me my rights in a bored tone that I didn't pay attention to when I said, "ooh bondage. My safe word is-"

Beckett fastened the handcuffs with more force than necessary.

"Apples. I know."

The city rushed past us in a blur and I noted that she still drove slightly faster than the speed limit, I made a mental note to ask her if she was morally obliged to give herself a speeding ticket.

I turned to face her.

From the sharp edge of her jaw, to the swirling storm of her eyes and the shadow of lashes that fell across her cheekbones; there was something ornate about her captured beauty, something that felt so far away.

And even though those characteristics focus on a lack of something, it suddenly seemed like this Kate was missing something rather than the other way round.

Eventually I broke the silence, "So you're a cop."

"You always were observant."

"What happened to your dream of being a lawyer?"

Kate stiffened, quickly smoothing the creases of her frown with a tight-lipped smile that I didn't believe.

"I don't know, Rick. You're the novelist, you tell me."

My heart leapt at the use of my first name, the delicate muscle seemingly oblivious to thick coating of sarcasm she said it with.

I watched the tight mask of her features, waited without luck for a telling quiver.

When I looked over at Kate I half-expected her to smile back, but her lips stayed in that same straight line. The hands that I knew fitted perfectly with mine had gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white, her nails unpainted. And I knew that the tips of her fingers were always cold because she thought cold water washed better than hot. But now I considered that even that might have changed.

"You're staring."

"Yes."

"Well stop it."

"Makes you hot, right?" I joked, wiggling my eyebrows with a smirk.

Beckett tilted out of my eyesight, pretending to check her wing-mirrors, but I could hear the reluctant smile that lifted her voice and the edges of her lips when she said, "you do know I'm wearing a gun, right?"

I just grinned.

"Thanks for finding Alexis." I said after a moment.

Kate looked over at me, smiling slightly, "you're welcome. She's a cute kid... I'm not sure how that happened."

"It's one of the bigger questions of the universe." I agreed.

"I always thought you'd make a good detective. Is that why you're working as a patrol officer? So that you can be a detective?"

When she didn't answer I said "Kate." in case she hadn't heard me. I knew she had.

"Castle." She replied- a warning.

Her hands clenched and un-clenched and the steeling-wheel jerking so that we flew around the next corner a little too swiftly. And we were doing so well.

"I'd like to know you." I said quietly.

"Don't. Just stop it, okay?" Her voice rose to a near-shout, sharp and thick and painful.

"Stop what?" I gripped the edge of my seat with conjoined hands.

"You know exactly what you're doing Castle, but no amount of charm can fix what you broke."

"I'm not trying to-"

She pulled over outside the 12th precinct, swerving into her parking space impatiently.

"Then why did you come back?"

She went on when I didn't respond. "It's like you're waiting for this big revelation; waiting for me to fall to my knees and claim my undying love you, but the truth is that whatever feelings I had for you back then died the day you walked out of my life. And I distinctly remember telling you not not to come back."

"I miss you." I said simply, my voice a weak flicker of a sound.

"I'm over you." She said more simply.

"We could be friends."

"No. We couldn't."

"I want to be part of your life in whatever way I can and I'm not backing down until you let me or until you take out a restraining order."

"Castle your record is going to start looking pretty bad if you don't give this up."

I straightened in the leather seat, the handcuffs clicking together.

"So be it."

A/N: Okay so when I put this chapter into a word document I realised that I'd written 23 pages. Yep. So I decided that it was best to split it into two rather than drown you in fic. The second half will be up in a few days.

There were two really lovely guest reviews from last chapter that made me hate that you can't reply to guests, because wow; I can't even say how much it means that there are people actually enjoying this, and the fact that you'd take time to anonymously send me the love is pretty amazing, so thank you!

A while ago a friend on here told me that my stories make her happy and since then that's been the aim of everything I've written. It's never really mattered if there's one person or a thousand people reading this as long as this story matters to someone.

I'll try to give this the ending you deserve- its going to take quite a few chapters!