Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

Hi there everyone,

Can't thank you enough for all the reviews but here comes the drama I mentioned earlier. If you can hold on for a couple of chapters I should be able to bring them back to the light...I think.

This is the hole I wrote myself into. I hope it's not to cliched. Let me know.

OOOOOOOOO

"Before I try the bad boy biker again,"

"Nice alliteration," she interrupted with a smirk, trying to distract herself.

His eyes flashed darker and his eyes flickered briefly to her lips hungrily. She felt the beginning of a tremble.

"As I was saying," his voice husky, "before you meet him again, maybe you should spend some time with Rick."

OOOOOOOOO

"I spend time with Rick everyday."

"You spend time with Castle everyday," he corrected. "Though I'd like to think you've seen more of Rick than you realise."

"Oh. OK." she said as if that explained everything.

"Let's see. You've seen Richard Castle, the playboy author," he looked bitter. "You've seen Castle, the shadow and comic relief. You've seen Richard, the son. You've seen Dad."

"So Rick. Who is he then?" She couldn't look away from his eyes.

He had spent years watching her and getting to know better than anyone. He knew her better than her father. After all who she was now was not the person her father knew. And despite all the time together, and despite being a detective, she had never sought to actively tackle the mystery that is Richard Castle. She was content for little discoveries to come and gradually reveal a better picture. But her view, even now, was far from complete. She was content as they were because she believed that she knew him. In all the ways that were important. The kind of man he was. As father, partner, son and a genuinely good man. She might not know everything about his history, but she knew that he was a good man. Castle was a good man.

Who did he see himself as? Not Castle apparently. Rick.

If he thought 'Rick' was the genuine him, what part of her 'Castle' was the real one? And by extension fake? She was unreasonably nervous to hear the answer.

"He's your partner," he whispered. "Your friend."

Could he feel her trembling?

"And he's the man who believes in loving one extraordinary person for the rest of his life."

Her breath caught and she felt herself flushing. His words in the cemetery came back to her. This time he was telling her. She couldn't avoid it anymore.

The honesty in that statement was only accentuated by relief. The parts of him that she loved, not just tolerated or was amused by, they were the aspects he considered to be the most real?

If true, as much as Castle could hurt her, she knew that it would be Rick that could destroy her. And he believed…she felt a little dizzy. She wasn't ready for this. Somewhere she knew who the real Rick was. And he was going to break her heart. She could tell from the sincerity blazing in his gaze. Either that or she would break his and drive him away. And she was selfish enough to realize she needed him too much. Her partner, her friend. And as much as she wanted the rest, she was going to play it safe.

He was still looking at her. Looking at her like she was… extraordinary. The guilt of her lie made her nauseous. I remember.

She tried to pull her hand out from under his but he held on tight. He wasn't letting go. His eyes blazed and she tore herself away from them looking down at their hands as she renewed her efforts to snatch her hand back. He was burning her.

"Not this time, Kate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she spat, stung.

His resolve heightened. "I think it's about time we talked about something important."

"So murder isn't important enough for you now? How about the global financial depression?"

"That's not going to distract me, Kate."

"Stop calling me Kate," she said in a low voice.

"No."

"Castle," she said dangerously.

"I'm Rick," he said slowly and deliberately. "And you are Kate. And I care about you too much to let you keep doing this."

"Doing what," she ground out, finally tugging her hand free and using it to push herself away from his tight grip.

"Running away."

"From what?" uncharacteristically raising her voice in anger.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to. But I am going to say this. I don't know what you think," he started in an even breath. "But you are my friend. My best friend. And that is not going to change."

"So you say," she involuntarily remembered the hurt of that summer. He hadn't called once in three months.

Hurt flashed in his eyes and he had to fight to control his face.

"Well," he managed. "I said you were mine. I'm sorry I thought that maybe you considered me a friend too."

Despite the resentment and panic running through her, she felt as if she had been kicked in the gut. He looked sick. She couldn't believe her words had cut so deeply. He looked as if he would rather cut off his arm than be next to her right now. How could he be so stupid? He had to know she wasn't serious. The way he could read her- he had to know how much he meant to her.

"Castle," she choked past the lump in her throat. She reached to take his hand, ignoring the way he tried to pull away. "You are my friend. One of my best friends."

"Then why won't you trust me?"

"I do."

"You trust me at work. To get your coffee, make you laugh to yourself, not to pick up evidence without gloves. I get it. Beckett trusts Castle. But Kate doesn't trust Rick."

"I don't really know Rick," she avoided. She knew. And that terrified her because she wanted it so bad it hurt. Still that was better than getting her heart crushed again. She was in so much deeper this time. She didn't think she would be able to get over him again if he walked away.

"I don't know who you think he is. But I told you that he is your friend. Your partner. And he wishes that you would stop waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"The other shoe to drop?" She repeated, his ridiculous imagery re-igniting her anger. "The other shoe? Why shouldn't I? You say that you'll never stop being my friend? Well what about the summer? You didn't call for three months. Does that sound like a friend to you? What, you can be a friend part time? Turn the switch off and leave whenever you want and come back thinking you can just flip the switch again?"

"I seem to remember you pulling the same trick! I waited for three months, Kate. Three months because you said you would call."

"I was recovering from being shot! Not lounging with a laptop and screwing my publisher."

His eyes blazed. "I wish you were!"

"What?"

"I could have gotten over it. I could have waited if I knew you were off having a good time. Even if you were working somewhere without me. But no, I spent every day hoping you would call so I could hear your damn voice. To make sure that my nightmares every night weren't true. That I hadn't failed and you didn't bleed out in my arms. Because that's what I saw every night for months. I spent every day for three whole months trying to convince myself you were even alive."

Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. A part of his mind was screaming at him to stop, but he had been stewing on this so long without even realizing he couldn't. Maybe Kate wasn't the only one who repressed things.

"You got shot Kate. But don't think for a moment you were the only one hurt. Or maybe I'm just weak. But what about Ryan, Espo? What about your father, Kate? He watched his only daughter get shot. And Alexis? She barely talked for weeks because she watched one of the few women she looks up to get shot. And her father couldn't do anything."

As the helplessness of that moment threatened to swallow him he closed his eyes and tried to regain some balance.

"I understand what you did, Kate. I've done my best to make my peace with that. I'm not perfect and I don't expect or want you to be. But don't you dare think for one second that there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."