Disclaimer: I don't own these characters

A/N: So in response to my question about allegiances, Kate has a strong lead. But will she keep it?

Hope you like this chapter, again be gentle with reviews. I only had a few minutes to revise and edit so ignore the mistakes and enjoy the story!

Shout out to Eslssl for my favorite review of last chapter.

Chapter 9: Recurring Themes

"Castle...I..." Kate stammered, grasping for any words as thoughts stampeded her mind causing trafficked words to clog her voice. Damn it, just say something Kate, anything? She mentally begged herself.

Castle's frustration seeped from his very being; he ran tense fingers through his hair, his jaw flexed in failed restraint, and his eye narrowed in hostility. He poured himself a double of whisky with a shaking hand into a tumbler and tossed it back.

"I-" she began.

"Just save it Kate, what ever it is you want to say to belittle me just keep it to yourself, I already know what I'm worth to you," Castle interrupted, unable to decide if he actually wanted to hear what she had to say. He feared her reply, knowing the possibility that his feelings for her were unreturned. He quickly poured himself one more glass, as the words of his friend, Patterson, whispered in his mind: "Because what's worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?"

Kate stood rooted in her place by the book shelf, back pressed flush with the open shelves, arms crossed. Externally her resolve appeared uncompromised but internally she was drowning in her turmoil. Kate wanted to just scream that she loved him, tell the idiot that she just wants him to wait. But the her fears strangled her. She naïvely believed that if she could just get back to their status quo, then things would be alright. But as she postponed the once inevitable change of having something more with Castle, other changes were coming about. Her resistance forced their status quo to move toward other options, which apparently involved Kyra Blaine.

Rick dangled his drink with his fingers around the rim, pressing it firmly into his thigh. His posture was that of a soldier ready for battle as he gave Beckett on last chance to say something, anything, give him one reason to stay there. Fuck, he just wanted her to tell him what she wanted. What the hell do you want from me Kate, because if I knew, I'd give it to you.

At her continued silence, he lifted his glass to his pouted lips, numbly took the liquid into his mouth and system. "Do what you want Beckett, I gotta get out of here." With that he calmly set his glass on the side table and walked straight out the front door, closing it with a slam.

Kate stood in Castle's empty apartment, completely and utterly stunned. Castle was never one to let his emotions rule his actions in such volatile ways. Sure she couldn't blame him, but part of the bravado during her pointless rage was fueled by the ingrained belief that he would never leave her.

Without even realizing it, Castle had become her constant, a home in himself. Kate had no idea when that had come about, but it was just a natural belief and truth in her subconscious that he would always be there for her.

But how was that fair to him, when the same can't be said for him?

That was what she needed though. A true North. And now, with the bang of the door echoing in her body, she realized she had taken his presence and loyalty for granted.

She ran her hand across the book shelf to her left without paying attention, but when her hand hit a leather-bound book laying flat, out of its place, Kate glanced over. She slid her fingers from the spine over to the string that secured it and picked its tie. Knowing it was a journal and needing to have the comfort of Castle's words wrap around her like they had for years, she opened it to the title page.

A Rose for Everafter. It was his hand written manuscript of his book dedicated to Kyra. Kate's breath caught in her throat as she thought of Rick pulling this out to reminisce. But it wasn't until she flipped through it to land on a page marked by an old photo of a young, admittedly gorgeous Richard Castle and an equally beautiful Kyra Blaine in all there 'One-that-got-away' Glory.

Kate's heart clenched with the jealousy of what Kyra once had. She had Rick, had it all and somehow gave him up. But now Kyra was back and could be taking it all again, all of him. Beckett numbly made her way to the couch, slowly sinking to the soft leather, unable to leave for fear that if she walked out of the loft, then that was it. It was really over. No more research, no more shadowing, no more jokes, or theories, or coffee.

Well, what the hell do I do now? She questioned and leaned her head back on the couch to close her eye, in attempt to gain composure. She wanted to cry or punch someone, namely Kyra. She wanted to blame this all on her and her hypothetical conniving scheme Yet, Kate knew she herself had really screwed the pooch on this one.

How the hell had apologizing to him turned into this shit show? ...shit...FUCK!

Taking several deep breaths, she calmed her beating heart and racing mind, knowing she still had to do what she had come there for: apologize to Castle. Now she just had a shit ton more to say sorry for. She felt like a fool and worse she knew she had further hurt him. Deeply hurt him with her act of cavalier annoyance by his presence in her life.

Renewing her vow and resolve to apologize to Castle that night, she slapped her hands on her thighs and stood up, finally taking Rick up on his offer for a glass of wine. She walked with slumped shoulders to the kitchen and with unsteady hands grabbed a glass and bottle. And so the waiting began.

Now I just have to figure out what the hell to say to him.

As much as she wanted to either tell him how she felt or just grab his beautiful face and plant one on him, that fear still held her on a leash. More than anything she didn't want their relationship to bloom from such animosity, that was exactly why she had waited, hiding her knowledge of his loving confession. She wanted them to have a real chance, a fresh one. Untainted by her baggage and unobstructed by her walled-in fortress of a heart.

Rick was by no means drunk and that was something he wanted to remedy. He wanted his rationale thrown out the window because his sober mind and heart produced countless excuses and justifications for Kate. Not good. Tonight, after what was said, he wanted to be angry and pissed. Like a true writer he wanted to swim in those emotions, purging them in a cathartic, drunken haze.

With that in mind, he trudged to the corner liquor store two blocks away, grabbed a cheap bottle of tequila, slapped a fifty on the counter and walked out of the store.

He meandered the streets without conscious method or direction, immersed in thought and contemplation. In all honesty, he had no idea what to do or where to go from here. His anger called upon him to just leave, cut his losses, take his pride, and be done with whatever he hoped was developing between him and Kate, maybe pursue Kyra again.

Another lost cause you idiot. One broken heart to the next.

However, as infuriated as he was by Kate, Castle was tethered by the anchor of his love for her, it was like a mirage in the desert; even though he knew it wasn't real or attainable he continued to drag through the sand in the minuscule hope that this time it wouldn't disappear into the heat, but in the end it was all a waste of energy. Fucking love...

Slowly Castle sunk into a dark, defeated, cynical mood. A mood that made him want to write poetry with complex metaphors in attempt to make sense of the knots strangling him. He hated poetry, well at least his poetry.

Realizing he had walked for at least an hour, he took in his surroundings. The street was depressed, several stores shut down with newspapers covering the windows. But the names and signed felt familiar to Rick. Suddenly he realized exactly where he was and with assured steps he crossed the street and continued up the block. Without explanation he felt the suffocating need to reach his desired destination so he hastily ducked into an all too familiar ally way headed straight for the side door of the brick theater building. The candlestick prop from backstage still held the heavy metal door open and he slipped inside, then sprinted up the wold rickety steps, anxious to reach the his oasis. Several floors later, Castle lunged out onto the old rooftop, his and Kyra's rooftop.

He had come up there a handful of times over the years, in fact he wrote almost all of A Rose for Everafter up here. Half of it written before Kyra left and the second half written in lonely solitude, writing feverishly as the sun stained his skin. He had come up there to freak out about being a father when Meredith had told him that she was pregnant after only four months of dating. He had come up there when a five-year old Alexis asked him to braid her hair and his parental incompetence and insecurities came crashing down on him. He went up there a lot last summer when Beckett ditched him, wrote the end of Heat Rises in the broken lawn chair, sitting in the shaded corner of the roof, learning from his summer of writing A Rose for Everafter.

He stood leaning his elbows on the retaining wall, hunching his shoulders against the wind since he idiotically forgot his coat, left with only a black sweater and undershirt as insulation. His racing mind incrementally slowed after another hour of ranting to himself, talking himself out of calling Kyra, and feeling like a bigger idiot at the minutes passed.

Castle didn't really know why he continued to return to his and Kyra's old roof. He figured it to be an escape for his reality, much like writing was, only up there on the roof he could remember the simple happy memories of that summer with Kyra as well as release the fury of literary inspiration. It was his own little fortress of solitude, a place where he could just pause life and think.

He sank down into the bent lawn chair, opened his bottle of tequila, and took a small sip. He stared vacantly out at the red-lit letters of the theater sign. His mind wandered freely, calming down his heart. He took another swig from the bottle before tearing it away quickly, realizing he shouldn't get rip-roaring drunk on a night where he would have to go home and face Alexis. Shit, Alexis. He had completely forgotten that she was still at the loft and most likely heard the fight with Beckett. Damn it... Better head home and face the inevitable lecture from my kid.

The lights in the main floor of the loft shone brightly against the dark evening pressing in against the windows. Kate sat slumped in the bar stool at Castle's island counter, her wine barely touched. She stared down into the glass watching it swirl and sway. Anxiety that churned her insides as she unsuccessfully tried to figure out what to say to Castle when he finally came through the front door.

Kate was always the type to plan and execute. She hated going into any situation unprepared. It was one quality that made her such a good detective, her fixation on the plan, the timeline, how things escalated from point A to point B. But that type A personality trait was royally failing her at the moment. Each time she set out to prepare a speech or explanation to say to Castle, her mind slipped into other tracks of thought; wholly unhelpful tracks, like how Casual Castle looked so sexy in that simple black v-neck sweater or how she wanted to bitch out Kyra for messing everything up, which of course lead her to that introspection she so deeply hated since it painted her mistakes like a mural on her conscience. Beckett's throat tightened and moisture gathered along her lashes at the feeling of helplessness, guilt, jealous fueled anger, and frustration.

Meanwhile, as Kate sat, anxiously awaiting Castle's return, Alexis had been upstairs for the better part of two hours, completely engrossed in her essay. She had finally finished and edited the paper, deciding to descended the stairs, hoping her father was still up to look over her work for her. Might as well use the in-house novelist to her advantage.

Alexis pranced down the stairs, reading through her introductory paragraph and pulling her headphones out of her hears.

"Oh Daddy Dearest!" Alexis called from the landing, "I need your expository and literary prowess and yes, I am buttering you up." She headed straight to his office guessing he would be clacking away at his laptop keys composing a symphony as if it were a piano. But, as she crossed the lounge she noticed a body sitting stock-still in the kitchen.

When Kate heard Alexis voice a flash of panic shot through her like an arrow. How the hell do I explain this? Um, Alexis your father stormed out of here because I insinuated he was worthless to me and for the past hour and a half I have pictured multiple ways to legally but effectively physically enable Kyra Blaine..Yeah good plan.

"Kyra?" came Alexis questioning voice as she approached the woman sitting with her back to her. Oh that stung more than it should, Kate thought.

"Oh, Detective Beckett! Sorry didn't recognize you from behind. What are you doing here?" Alexis asked, forgetting her filter, as she awkwardly made her way to Kate in the kitchen. "I mean... It's, uh, it's nice to see you, but... yeah, what are you doing here?" Alexis fumbled, lacking her usual composure and grace, and for once Kate could see this was clearly Richard Castle's daughter.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm, well, I'm just waiting for your dad to get back." She lamely offered, hoping against hope that Alexis wouldn't question her as to why and how she was here while her father was out.

"Oh," Alexis asks, and quirked her face into a look of surprised confusion. At Beckett's continued silence (seemed to be a theme for her lately), Alexis took the hint that it wasn't her place to interrogate.

"Alright, damn, I was hoping to get him to read over my essay." Alexis muttered mostly to herself, gesturing to the thick pile of printer paper in her hands. Kate smiled in surprise since she had never heard the sweet, innocent Alexis swear. Again, more of Rick Castle in her genes than it seemed.

"Yeah, sorry again. I seemed to have chased him away." Kate replied, revealing so much more than usual to the teen. Alexis's typical view of the detective was that Beckett was determined, ambitious,and had no time for distractions. Including her father's distracting devotion, Alexis thought bitterly. Castle's daughter was far more in tuned with the situation than most gave her credit for. She saw how her father looked at Kate, heard countless anecdotes of 'Oh Kate did this' or 'Kate said the funniest thing' or 'Kate thought it'd be good if...', and most importantly saw how her father tried tirelessly to become a better man because of Kate over the past years.

Yeah her father was completely smitten. What Alexis also saw was Beckett's continued rejection of her father's affection and indifference towards him. But looking at the detective now Alexis saw so much more than she expected. Alexis observed, true to the Castle name, and noticed Beckett's distraught, red-rimmed eyes, sad quivering lips, and that was more emotion displayed on her face than Alexis had ever saw.

Suddenly the panic that constantly lay at bay rose frantically in Alexis, "Where's Dad? He's okay, right?"

At Alexis' obvious fear, Kate sat up straight and shot a hand out to Alexis's arm in comfort. "Oh God, sorry. No, Alexis he is fine. We just... we got in a fight." Kate reluctantly explained.

Alexis let out a sigh of relief and sank down into the bar stool beside Kate, ever since he started shadowing Detective Beckett that fear hid in the back of her mind ready to attack. "Geez, you kind of scared me," Alexis commented. She looked at the older woman again, putting two and two together (teary eyes and a supposed fight).

"Are..are you okay?" Alexis asked.

Kate offered a self-deprecating smile as she nodded and whipped at the few tears that escaped.

"Mhmm," Kate hummed, knowing she wasn't fooling either of them but didn't feel comfortable having a therapy session about the man she loved but continued to hurt with the daughter of said man. Yeah Freud would have a field day with this shit.

Although Alexis desperately wanted to say some snide remark to the detective, a you deserve it and he deserves better type of thing and defend her father's honor, Alexis's typical maturity won out in the end. Instead of giving into the temptation to rub Beckett's nose in whatever she was crying about Alexis swung an arm around the detectives curled shoulders.

Kate shuddered a bit at the comforting contact and kept her eyes focused solely on her fingers tracing the patterns in the granite countertop. She had never re-acclimated to physical comfort after her mother died. Hugs from her father were really all she wanted in the years following the murder but every time his protective arms embraced her she could smell the thick sent of alcohol seeping from his pores. But receiving this simple half hug from Alexis surprised her in how much it helped for no reason at all other than letting her know she wasn't completely alone like she so often felt.

"Dad doesn't hold grudges, whatever you guys fought about he'll forgive. That's how he is, it hurts him too much to stay mad at the people he loves. So he just moves on from it. Trust me, I'd know. I've seen it all with him." Alexis offered, hoping her words would calm the detectives worry. Alexis doesn't remember much of her father and mother's divorce, but knows the details of it now and knows for a fact that if her father could forgive Meredith's infidelity and have an amicable relationship with her now, at least on the surface, then whatever happened between Kate and him would blow over. Forgive and forget was what he always taught her.

Kate absorbed Alexis words and the guilt weighed even heavier, hearing what a good man Castle was. Not that she didn't already know, but she spent so much time trying to hide that admiration. "He is pretty gracious isn't he?" Beckett mused so quietly that Alexis could barely make out her statement.

"Yeah, so just...don't worry, a 'sorry' is really all he ever wants when I mess up. He doesn't even make me feel guilty for it afterwards, though eventually he adds my faux pas to his teasing arsenal," Alexis joked, nudging Kate's shoulder before sliding her arm off her shoulders and her bum from the chair.

A 'sorry.' Simple as that, yet somehow Kate had complicated even that. "He is good at that teasing stuff. Can't escape it, huh?" Beckett quipped, turning around in her seat to face the girl.

"Nah, no insider tips here, but honestly why would you want to?" Alexis posed, smiling a closed lip smile that revealed just how much of a Daddy's girl she was, and she couldn't be happier about that.

"You wouldn't," Kate stated resolutely, finally offering a genuine smile while she marveled about the wonderful kind of father Rick was. It was definitely the one of the most attractive traits about the writer.

"Good, got a smile! I guess that fills the Castle-Beckett agreement." Alexis grinned, shrugging her shoulders and gathering up her paper that had been toyed with as a distraction sometime throughout their talk. Kate realized the truth of what Alexis had just said. Castle's main goal over the past three and a half years had been to make her smile. He did it everyday, just made Kate smile, laugh more, enjoy life a little. Seemed mundane enough, but to Kate— who had carried the heavy burden of unattained justice for years, who let her 'normal' become filled with murder, solitude, and a gravity that shaded her like a cloud— for her it was everything.

"Thanks Alexis, I needed that." Kate sincerely said, because she really did. Kate needed those clear, concise words said to bolster her courage for pending apology. "Need me to look over that for ya?" Kate offered, pointing to Alexis' essay.

"That's alright, I'll just leave it on my Dad's desk, he'll have it reviewed by morning and I can make corrections in my free period."

"Alright, I'll let him know it's in there when he gets in."

"Right, thanks," Alexis said turning towards the office, but she stops and turns around once more, "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm good now, just have to talk to your dad."

"M'kay, then goodnight Detective." Alexis called as she made her way to the office and quickly back up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Night."

Rick stopped outside his loft door, leaned against the hallway wall and sighed attempting to expel all that this night had coated him in, the hurt, the anger and frustration. He didn't want to bring that home to his little girl. He pulled the tequila bottle out of the bag for one more sip, just to loosen his tense, strained posture, took a deep breath, and walked into the dark, empty loft. It was almost eleven, not that late but Alexis did have school in the morning.

He was relieved that he wouldn't have to put on a show, even if it was for his daughter. All he really wanted to do was sprawl out in bed in the dark and listen to some music. With that thought, he quietly kicked off his shoes hoping that he wouldn't rouse Alexis down for the inevitable lecture and his empty assurances that he was fine. Rick quickly and silently stashed his bottle in the liquor cabinet, turn off the lounge lamp and headed into his office.

As he crossed to the closed door of his office, he pulled his sweater up to take it off and as it stalled on his broad shoulders he heard the distinct movement of a body on his office couch.

Kate had been pulled into the world of Nikki and Rook, rereading, for the hundredth time, Naked Heat. She had been so absorbed by the story and Rick's words that she had let her guard down and didn't hear Castle enter the loft. She didn't notice his arrival until he was walking through the office door with his sweater pulled up over his head, back arched, chest puffed, arms stretched up over his head. His tight, white v-neck undershirt had been raked up in his attempt to shed the black sweater and his surprisingly toned abdominals peeked into view. Kate shifted from her reclined position as her eyes traced the lines of muscle and tendons that plated his stomach, she trailed her gaze down the line of hair that ran from his belly button before disappearing under his belted jeans, and she licked her lips at the sight of the slight indentations of his hips that distinguished his tapered waist.

Alerted to the presences of someone else in the room, Rick halted his movements, waiting to hear any further rustling to his left. Please don't be a murder or alien or worse an ex-wife, I'm so not up for that tonight. At the lingering silence, he finished pulling the black sweater off his shoulders, flinging it off with relish and a relieved sigh.

But before he took another step toward his bedroom, he saw Kate Beckett sitting on his leather couch with Heat Wave sitting limply in her lap. Last person I want to see... Why couldn't it be a murderer, or an alien, or even an ex-wife?!

Her eyes were wide and, even in the dim lighting, he could see just how beautiful they glittered with the dark hazel at the iris' rim and the deeper green rimming her dilated pupils. Her lips were slightly parted like she was on the verge of saying something and her posture was on point, seemingly mesmerized by something. Unbeknownst to Rick, the glittering, partly open lipped look was Beckett's signature lustful gaze. She wanted him.

Rick sighed in exasperation, looking up towards the ceiling, trying to call upon what ever God there was to just cut him a damn break tonight. By the time he dropped his glare, Kate was walking towards him. His writer's mind took note of the gentle sway of her hips, the luscious curves of her body, and the little tumble of her long hair as it moved with her steps. But at the forefront of Rick's mind was the still volatile frustration and exhaustion that Beckett had elicited earlier that evening.

"Beckett, what are you doi-" Rick's harshly toned question was cut off by Kate's hand firmly pressing over his mouth as she stepped up close to him. He watched her eyes travel up from the v-neck collar of his shirt, skate along his neck, admiring the bob of his adams apple and the definition of tendons and muscles that framed his jugular. She slowly lifted her eyes to his deep blue ones, hand still pressed securely to his mouth, silencing any of the questions he had pounding his mind.

Kate pulled her shoulders back, took a quick breath.

"Shut up for a second Rick."

A/N 2.0: I love you all for your continued support. Give me some feedback and your thoughts on this chapter, all you gotta do is review!

xoxo