A/N: I just have to say thank you to everyone who indulged me in my blatant begging and reviewed last chapter. It definitely meant a lot! By the way, even though I said "just this once" last time, you're all more than welcome to keep reviewing ;)

Seriously. Review!

Oh, I'd like to thank BURN3 for all the help, keeping me grounded and making this story better. Also, I'm especially grateful to Tree23, who has been helping me these past few weeks via long rants and discussions on Castle and even with everyday conversations. This story would not have been improving if it weren't for you. Thank you!

When Rick got back home around 11:30 PM after his date with Kate had been interrupted, he found the coffee table pushed back to the corner of the living room, almost glued to the black baby grand piano by the window, and his daughter and her two best friends sprawled out on the living room floor, amidst popcorn bowls, chocolate bars and bottles of diet soda.

The girls were so focused on the movie playing on the enormous projector screen in front of them that it took the writer's greetings to startle them out of their movie trance.

"Oh, The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants… boy, am I glad to see you girls here," He said towards Paige and Lauren, with an easy smile and a playful wiggle of his eyebrows. "I've had to sit through this movie at least ten times by now!"

The 14-year olds chuckled as they explained to 'Mr. Castle' that they were having a teen movie marathon, with the original Sisterhood movie and its sequel, followed by the High School Musical film series.

"Now that sounds like a special all-nighter," He commented.

"And how was your date, Dad?" Alexis questioned, changing subjects. "You're home surprisingly early. For your standards, that is," She added in mock innocence.

"My date went just fine, thank you. Don't you worry about my hours."

"A date, huh? Finally, he concedes some information!" Martha voiced as she went down the stairs.

Rick looked aghast. Turning towards Alexis, he exclaimed, "You tricked me!"

"You're the one who taught me that!" She replied, smiling.

"So, Richard," The older woman continued once she reached the ground floor of the loft, "tell us about the girl."

"Mother, you know I don't kiss and tell," the man said, walking into the kitchen and clearly trying to evade this line of questioning.

Martha laughed in sarcasm, "Richard, I don't know whom you're trying to fool, but it's not going to work with us."

"Perfect use of 'whom', Mother. I'm impressed."

"Don't try to change the subject, Richard. We all know you usually can't wait to tell us about your dates, so you can drop the hush-hush attitude."

Alexis's friends were thoroughly entertained by this whole Rodger-Castle interaction, and the young redhead herself was attentively waiting for her father's retort.

Rick's reply as he picked up a bottle of water from the fridge, although unexpected, did not disappoint. "Well, than it must tell you something that I'm not willing to share any further information on this matter, right?"

And with good night's directed at all the astounded occupants in the room, the writer left for his study, intent on getting some writing done – his complete draft manuscript was due in a couple of weeks and he still had about ten chapters to go.

At least this evening had provided him with plenty inspiration to write.

Rick smiled. He really believed that, for once, he would be able to meet his deadline with Gina, thus avoiding any chance of death by enraged publisher.

He still needed to come up with a name for fictional Kate Beckett, though.

Beckett did not have a chance to appreciate the aftermath of her date the same way Castle did.

Once she got to the precinct, the detective immediately went into work mode, discussing the case and with Ryan and Esposito for a while, trying to anticipate what the suspect they now had in custody – the victim's driver – would argue before actually going in to interrogate him.

And then, after questioning their suspect, she was sure they had caught the wrong guy. There was just no way this man, a 5"10 skinny 24 year-old would have been able to strangle the victim – a six-foot tall, solid built, healthy 30-year old man – without restraining the latter. And if that wasn't enough, the suspect had an alibi, which she was sure would be proven good when they checked. There was just no way.

Put off, the three detectives called it a night and agreed to reconvene at the 12th at 8:30 AM the following day.

Castle rolled over in his bed to check the time on the bedside alarm clock – almost 4:15 PM. Sighing and stretching, he remained lying in bed, gathering up the courage to get up and face the rest of the day, and his thoughts once again drifted to Kate Beckett.

He had spent the whole night up writing nonstop, managing to finish about two chapters before finally succumbing to sleep at around ten o'clock this morning, all because the events of the night before were imprinted in his mind. And now he was still thinking about the detective?

He felt ridiculous. He was whipped.

Yet, he knew he couldn't help it.

Castle was intrigued by Kate Beckett. She wasn't like any other woman he had ever met, and at the same time she was like the best of his exes rolled into one.

For starters, she was gorgeous – and that was a pattern Rick was most certainly proud of. More than that, she was a strong, intelligent woman who knew how to be sexy without being vulgar, which had appealed to him in women like his ex-wife Gina and his former muse Sophia Turner – and also like the CIA agent Sophia Turner, Kate's profession made her dangerously sensual, which was a great bonus. Unlike Gina and Sophia, though, Kate seemed self-sufficient without being self-centered – not that those exes were bad people per se, but it just seemed to him that the detective was more… caring, dare he say? More compassionate and kind, from the way she interacted with the victims' families and friends, for instance. And those qualities reminded him more of his college girlfriend, Kyra Blaine, the only woman he actually regretted losing.

Last but not least, if the way she had teased him back in September when they worked together and their hallway rendezvous the night before were any indication, Kate Beckett could be as fun and wild as his first ex-wife Meredith and the tons of super hot girls he had been involved with for shorter periods.

If not more.

Rick yawned and stretched again in his bed. He was in awe. How could this woman be as serious as a heart attack one moment and then as carefree as she had been during their date? How could she be as tough as she was with suspects only to be so tender with the victims' loved ones? What turned her into this remarkable woman she was now?

The novelist in him, always paying attention and storing information for later use, suddenly recalled guessing (quite accurately, it seemed) that she had become a cop because she had lost someone she loved.

Was that it? Was a personal tragedy responsible for Kate's sense of justice and empathy, for her sober personality that most of the times hid the lighthearted person underneath?

And who was this person she lost? A sibling? One of her parents? Her first love?

Kate Beckett could have a bit of his exes in her, but she somehow was even more than that.

She was an enigma.

An enigma he wanted to learn. An enigma he wanted to solve.

His mind set, Rick rolled over on the bed again, this time to pick up his phone, and selected the detective's number. He heard her picking up on the first ring.

"Beckett."

By-the-book Beckett, he recognized the tone in her voice. He could even picture her face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked over the evidence in front of her. Smiling, he greeted her, "Hey, it's me."

The detective – who had in fact her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked over the evidence strewn over the table in front of her –, fought the smile that threatened to appear on her face upon hearing his voice and greeted back in a softer tone, "Oh, hey."

And that's 'relaxed Kate', Rick realized, grinning. "Told you I'd call," he announced.

"You did," She replied, and he could hear the smile on her voice.

Before she said anything else, though, he heard some noise in the background, like a door opening, and some indistinct voices before he could make out Beckett's own voice telling whoever it was that she 'would be right there', and then he picked up the sound of a door closing.

"Are you in the precinct?"

"Yeah," Kate replied, sounding tired.

"Still working on the case from last night?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to the suspect you arrested then?"

"It didn't pan out," She admitted.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Don't have time. New lead came up and we're going to check it out now. Can I call you back later?"

"You have to actually work on a Sunday?" He said before he could hide the whine in his voice. Oh, well, he thought. Better whine away. "Who works Sundays?!"

Kate smirked. "Plenty of people, Castle. Doctors, restaurant chefs, firefighters, journalists, dog walkers, police detectives... the list goes on and on."

"All work and no play makes the detective a dull girl."

"Yeah, well, I'm not all work, Rick," She purred his name out. "Thought I proved that to you last night."

Ah, that's a tone he hoped he would never stop hearing – salacious Kate. Deciding to play her game, he scoffed, "Briefly. Which is why I'm calling now, actually. I was thinking 'second date'. How does that sound?"

"Appealing," She hummed, still in wicked mode. But, all too soon, she settled back into her detective persona. "But I have to go now, sorry. I'll call you when I get a chance, okay?"

"Okay," he pouted. "Good luck with your case!"

"Bye," She said before ending the call.

After relishing the comfort of his mattress for a few more minutes, Rick finally got out of bed, deciding to start a quest for food. He expected to find his mother and daughter – or at least one of them – in the living room, but all he was greeted with when he left his bedroom was an empty apartment and silence.

Well, that and a note on the counter letting him know there were leftovers from lunch in the fridge and that Alexis had gone to Paige's and Martha was out with some theater friends.

He went for the leftovers then, but barely had time to start heating them before his phone rang.

This, however, wasn't a call as fun as the last one. This one was Gina, telling him she had just emailed him some comments on the chapters he had given her almost two weeks earlier and that she needed the revised version by Tuesday morning.

Once he hung up, he sighed, resigned.

Apparently, mystery writers also worked on Sundays.

The following couple of days went by with plenty of work for Beckett – all of the leads in the case she had been working on had resulted in dead ends and, to make matters worse, another body had been found on Monday morning. So, now it was already Tuesday evening, she had two open cases in her hands and no new leads – she hadn't even managed to contact the second victim's family yet.

The lack of useful evidence was starting to really get to her.

The detective was so focused on her cases that, as usual, she had been neglecting anything that wasn't work-related, which accounted for her surprise when she found the text from Castle on her phone that evening.

'You okay? You never called', it said.

Running her hands over her face, she pushed the file on the desk in front of her away and set back on her chair, getting herself comfortable to call the writer.

"Were you purposefully waiting for me to crack to call me back, Detective?" She heard the male voice greet her the moment he picked up the call.

"Hey, Castle. I'm sorry, just things have been hectic at work. I'm actually still at the precinct."

"Since Sunday?!"

She laughed before cranking her neck. "No, but it certainly feels like it."

"No luck with your case?"

"No. And to make matters worse, now there's been a second murder."

"Really? Are they connected?" He asked, interest clear in his voice.

"It's an ongoing investigation, Castle. I can't share this information with you," She admonished.

"But I can help you!"

The brunette smirked, amused. "Don't you have your own work to worry about or something?"

"Actually, yes." He replied, sobered. "My publisher gave me two weeks to deliver the final manuscript for my next novel."

"And what's the next adventure for Derrick Storm like?"

Deciding turnabout was fair play, he told her, "You know, it's still an unpublished book, Detective. I can't share this information with you."

She chuckled. "Is that so?"

"Yes. But don't worry, if you're a good girl, I'll even sign a copy for you once it's launched. I know you'd like that, being a fan and all." She could hear the arrogant teasing quality of his voice through the line.

Oh, how she hated that he had figured out she had gone to one of his signings.

Determined to knock that cockiness out of him, she asked in a sultry tone, "And what if I'm a bad girl?"

He choked. "Uh…"

Before he had a chance to clear his head, she moved on, trying to clear her voice of any sign of laughter, "You're too easy, Castle. That's no fun."

"I'm plenty fun," It was all he could come up with at that moment.

He was still trying to form coherent sentences when he heard her voice on the other side of the line directed at someone who was in the precinct with her and then directed at him, "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Wait," He pleaded.

"Yes?" She humored him.

"I have this… dinner party I have to attend this Friday."

"And…?"

"And I was wondering if you'd go with me."

She pondered for a moment how to deal with his request, before answering in a low voice, "Castle, I can't."

"Why not?" He asked, tone so serious and honest he didn't seem like the same man who acted like a child at Christmas sometimes.

"Because… it's too soon." As the line remained silent, she continued, "I know this is a casual request for you, but I'm not used to being seen with a public figure, even if it's in an intimate event."

He tried to appease her, "Oh, it's not an intimate event."

Of course, that didn't help at all. "Even worse, Rick. I mean, I'm sure you don't see a problem in attending public events with a lot of different women, but I need my private life to stay private or it will interfere with my work. I told you that last week."

"I know, I just thought that maybe this could be a way for you to slowly get used to being seen with me," He explained, sounding like a repentant little boy even to his own ears.

"Maybe we should get to know each other a little bit more before you decide to break me into high society with you, Castle," She replied, hoping to sound understanding at least.

He could see her point, but complained anyway, "Spoilsport."

She chuckled, glad to see he had accepted her reasoning, before easing into their banter once again, "I'm sure you can manage going solo to this dinner party."

"Fine. But don't complain when you find out that women were fighting for my affections because I showed up alone."

She rolled her eyes at his pretend smugness. "I'm sure I'll live."

After a few moments of companionable silence, he spoke up, "Call me when you're free and then I'll take you out for something more inconspicuous."

"That would be nice," She admitted. After a beat, she ventured, "Do you want to try tomorrow?"

"I can't… it's poker night at the Commissioner's house," He justified.

"Really? The Commissioner, Castle? Want to tell me he's also a fan?"

"Who isn't?!" He jested.

He could feel her rolling her eyes at him.

"You know, if you want, you can come with me to this shindig," He added mockingly, already knowing her answer.

"I think I'll pass," She retorted. "I'll let you know when I'm free again. I do have to go now."

"Okay," He relented. "You sure you don't want my help with your cases?"

"I'm sure," She replied, amused. "Bye, Castle."

"Bye," He told her before hanging up.

Wednesday flew by with a lot of work and not enough leads for New York's finest. Beckett and the boys had been working nonstop on both open cases on their hands – they at least had been able to learn that the second murder victim was the first victim's girlfriend, which made both cases connected –, but, so far, they were still a long way from finding out who killed them.

The only thing that made her feel better about her day was the series of texts from Castle later in the evening. It seemed that her Captain was also in attendance at the Commissioner's poker night – a new addition to their game, Rick told her –, and that, soon enough, Montgomery was giving Castle a hard time about pretty much anything the writer did or said.

Dropping the case file and the Chinese take out on the table to reach for her phone when it chimed yet again, she read Castle's fourth message that evening: "So, Roy's now bragging about how his best detective (that's you, in case you're wondering) got me to follow her around like a puppy during a case without falling for my charms."

She laughed and typed back a reply. "It must be killing you not being able to say we went out last week."

Kate didn't even bother to go back to the case file as she waited for his text. Less than a minute later, the message came through. "It's only killing my reputation. The guys are loving the idea of a woman saying no to me. You'd better make up for it soon, Detective. Otherwise I'll be forced to end your reputation instead."

She bit her lower lip before deciding on what to write back. "Don't tell on me yet. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

She only got one more message from him after that. "So far, you already are."

By Friday evening, some solid evidence had finally emerged on the cases.

Beckett was out buying dinner for the team – her turn this week – when she got a call from Esposito, explaining that Lanie (bless her) had been able to pull off saliva from the second victim's cheek, most likely from where the killer had spit on the girl's face, and that the lab had finally gotten around to testing the sample.

And they got a match in the system.

Beckett was running into the bullpen in time to catch Esposito talking to Ryan, "…rich guy with a record from his bad boy days. Nothing major on it, though," The Hispanic man was saying as he read over the file, "Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest… one count for possession too."

"Who's this guy?" The female detective asked as she reached the boys.

"Hey, Beckett," Esposito greeted her before running over the information again. "Mason William Archibald, 41. Businessman, lives alone on his loft at the Upper East Side. Our vic's family said they dated for about two months around six months ago."

"All right. Let's go to his loft, pick him up."

"One step ahead of you," Ryan said. "We called his office and his home and found out he had a benefit tonight at the Metropolitan Club. It started at 7:30."

"Well, I guess we have plans for tonight then."

Beckett walked into the Metropolitan Club later that evening, Esposito and Ryan in tow, looking for their suspect. Nevertheless, Mr. Archibald wasn't the first person she noticed in there – thanks to her loyal and clueless detective buddies.

"Hey, isn't that Richard Castle?" Ryan pointed out.

And there he was in front of her, Rick Castle, talking to not one, but three, blonde bimbos, with their clueless smiles and fake boobs pointed at him.

Beckett could not believe her eyes. "Yes, it is," She said through gritted teeth.

When he looked up, as a reflex from all the laughing at whatever stupid thing one of the girls had said, he met the stony – and hurt? – look in Kate's face through the crowd.

Uh-oh, he gathered. This will not go well.

TBC

(All characters and even some of the quotes in this fanfic don't belong to me. This is made available for entertainment only and not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.)