Florida Heat

A/N: Okay, so I take it you all like it. :) Just a couple of notes: this is an AU story. Montgomery died but Kate wasn't shot. I am pretty much ignoring anything from season 4 except for the fact that Gates is the new Captain and yes it is set during the summer time.

Updates of all my other stories (Castle and SVU) will be coming soon. Remember, reviews are love so let me know what you think! :)

Chapter 4

Four Days Earlier

Kate stared at her desk. Her elbows were propping her head up as her fists clenched at her hair, threatening to pull the roots straight from her scalp. This was beyond bad. This was torture. He was torture. Henry Johnson was the devil.

Gates had delivered on her promise. Henry Johnson had show up by her desk first thing in the morning all bright and shiny from the detective test. All that was missing was the big red bow. Beckett had sighed and set her coffee down on her desk a little bit to harshly as she shrugged off her briefcase and plopped down in her chair. Not only had Gates given her a new partner, she had given her a new detective as a partner.

Kate was sure Johnson would make a very good detective someday. He listened intently, was a fast learner and had an eye for detail. He may be green but he was quick. He was also a fan- a very enthusiastic fan. Over the past four years Kate had taken to teasing Castle about his fangirls. It was hilarious to watch them fawn over him and make him uncomfortable in the process. She would mock their squeals and stand back laughing as he pleaded for her to help him. Then she had been introduced to the concept of the fanboy. Now, fanboys were different than fangirls. Fangirls fawned over Castle, but fanboys fawned over both of them and Henry Johnson was the quintessential fanboy. So, she felt no qualms as she slowly unwound her finger from where they had been pressing into her scalp, silently stood from her desk and ignored whatever Johnson was prattling on about now and walked with purpose to Gates office; forcefully placed her request for the next six days off on her desk. Everyone had their breaking point and Kate Beckett had just met hers.

Castle had presented her with a key to his house in the Hamptons a couple of months before, after Montgomery had died, with a speech about summer coming soon and no pressure for anything. She didn't even have to tell him when she was going. It was merely an opportunity for her to get away- alone or with someone- if she wanted. She had put the key aside with a tightlipped thank you, determined to forget about it and suppress the flutter in her stomach at the thoughts of them in the Hamptons together. Instead of asking him to go to the beach house with her, she had asked for space. Now, it seemed like the perfect place to get away from reality for a couple of days- the perfect place to get away from Johnson, Gates and the space from Richard Castle.

Unfortunately, the beach house had to wait until tomorrow, and today Kate had to deal with Johnson. Because of this, Beckett had sent a silent thank you to Jesus when they had a break in the case two hours later and she had dragged Johnson by the ear to the elevator so they could bring in Jack and Judy Daniels for questioning in the deaths of the Millers'. When they had gotten to the Daniels' house and found the two teenaged girls in shackles in the basement she had sent a silent curse to Richard Castle for being right about the human trafficking ring. And when she had seen Johnson fall, and felt the prick of a needle to the back of her neck, she sent out a silent prayer to heaven that someone would find her.

Present Day

Richard Castle flexed the cramping fingers on his right hand as he glanced around the bookstore he was currently occupying in Houston, Texas. He had lost count of how many books he has signed in the past five days but it had to be in the thousands. Fleetingly he considered having a stamp made: "Thanks for being a fan. Richard Castle." He sighed. It would never work. So, instead, he flexed his fingers again and picked up his pen once more. His mind drifted to his cell phone as he murmured a few more rehearsed lines and smiled at the giggling co-eds and housewives standing in front of him. He had debated whether to call for the last few days but had resisted. She wanted space. He could give her space. Then, when he got back, he would take her to dinner- just as friends and partners, of course- and maybe bring her flowers. He smiled to himself as he handed a signed book back to its owner. She would never admit it, but she loved flowers.

His eyes flickered over to his cell once more and he was startled to see a 904 number flashing on the screen silently in front of him. Where the heck was 904? The voicemail clicked on and the flashing stopped. He shook his head and turned back to his fans. Seconds later the same number flashed on the screen and he couldn't help the sinking feeling that punched him in the gut. Quickly, he smiled an apology at the line and motioned over an aid to take over for a minute while he made his way to the back room, phone in hand. Two minutes later Castle was running out the front door of the bookstore, and five hours and one restless layover after that he was renting a car in Jacksonville, Florida.

He was sitting at her bedside when she woke up. Becky had gone out to the desk before calling Richard Castle's cell phone. Kate's heart monitor had begun to jump after they had hung up with Gina and the nurses were concerned that the stress was beginning to get to her. She had finally fallen asleep a couple of hours later when her eyelids were too heavy to stay open. Angela had given her copies of Heat Wave, Naked Heat and Heat Rises. She had been reading for hours, falling into the semi-familiar world of Nikki Heat. There was an ache in her chest as she read about Nikki and Rook, a feeling of longing. The book still rested on her chest when her green eyes opened and met his blue ones staring back at her. It was like she was staring at a familiar stranger- someone you could swear you knew but not know from where.

"Hi." Her voice was still horse and her throat still felt like sandpaper.

"Hey."

His smile was kind and she noticed then that he was holding her hand. He knew her. Slowly his free hand rose up and brushed a lock of hair out of her face- her swollen, beaten, bandaged face. He stroked the strands for a few minutes, playing with the ends, studying the fake straw-like color. "What happened?"

What happened? That was the question of the day, wasn't it? She felt the need to roll her eyes and let out a snarky comment but her emotions betrayed her and she felt her face crumble as a sob built in her throat. His hand tightened around hers as the tears fell down her face.

"I don't remember."

His curious expression softened as he looked at her, the concern evident in his eyes. "Well, we'll figure it out." He paused again, letting a soft smile slip out as he stared at her. She could have sworn she saw love etched on his face as he stared at her. "What is the last thing you do remember?"

She looked at him, taking in the crease of his forehead, the feel of his hand still resting on her head as his other thumb brushed her hand softly. There was something more in his eyes, more than the concern and it made her heart break a little bit. It was a longing, a hope. She considered being evasive. Saying that it was a blur, giving the small details that she had in hopes that he would fill in the blanks without ever knowing that she had no memory at all except for his face. But lying there staring at him she couldn't do it. She didn't know who she was or who he was but she knew she couldn't lie to him. Lying to him would break his heart; it would break hers, too.

She let out a sigh as she brought her free hand up to remove the book from her chest- giving herself a minute to figure out the best way to delve carefully into this conversation, to explain the events since she had woken up in the hospital. Once again, she came up blank, so she simply voiced the one question her brain kept spinning in circles.

"My name is Kate, right?"

The realization in his eyes was overwhelming as he sucked in a breath and brought both of his hands up to his head, running is fingers through his hair. He studied her- her battered face, bandaged arms and her hair. Her eyes watched him as he stared at her hair. His eyes widened as something clicked in his brain and his hand went back to her head to hovered over it for a minute before stroking his hand over her hair once again. Her eyes closed as she let her head fall to the side, resting against his palm.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Your name is Kate."