Accept No Substitutions

a co-authored Nikki Heat AU with jstar1382

(...)

She didn't want to talk.

She wanted to slink home and lick her wounds. She wanted Natalie Rhodes to stop prowling after her. She wanted Castle to never have looked at the actress in the whole new light of Nikki Heat.

Beckett fidgeted on the sidewalk, her eyes sliding away from him and taking in the details of his car. Audi A8, dark silver, the sheen of its sleek lines winking in the darkness like the night was filled with stars.

But that was an illusion. It was just an average New York City street, oil-stained and potholed, neon and workaholics' office lights burning. The car didn't seduce her, the low and raw tone of his voice didn't seduce her.

She was already seduced.

Beckett growled to herself, finally met his gaze. He was braced for disappointment; she saw it in the set of his mouth and the shift of his eyes. It was the same look she'd seen from him time and again, when she brushed him off, turned him down, refused to consider it in the slightest.

Problem was, she had considered it. Him. She'd considered so much that she'd actually found herself saying yeah, that sounds really nice to his Hamptons invitation when she'd already had a boyfriend. She'd found herself comparing the two, Demming and Castle, comparing herself around them, with them, how Castle's invitation lit things up inside her but Demming's-

So then Josh. Rebound guy, if she was being honest with herself. (Rebound from Castle's rejection, from the numb horror of having him walk off into the sunset with Gina.)

No. Just because she was unattached, just because Demming and Josh were both history didn't mean she was jumping back into baring her soul for him when he called her name and gave her those pleading eyes.

"So… is that a no, Beckett?"

"No," she exclaimed, rousing from wariness to find Castle looking at her. She knew Castle; he was her friend no matter what. It wasn't like- "I mean, of course. Yes. We can talk."

He gestured towards the car, a question.

She hesitated but finally nodded, approached the car with a measured and confident pace. Or tried anyway. But Castle was hurrying around and opening the passenger door for her, taking her bag from her shoulder, and seeing her inside the car.

She sank into the luxurious, heated leather seat, taking slow breaths to measure her heart rate. Castle opened the back door and deposited her bag in the floorboard, and then he came around with his keys in his hand, gripping them like a stress ball.

She watched him get inside the car, settle his large frame behind the wheel. When had she ever really seen him drive? Confidence and authority were her weapons to wield and she didn't know what it meant when he did.

Because he was confident, entirely so. He pulled out into traffic smoothly from his parallel parking spot, checking his mirrors with ease, the car accelerating without a hitch. He drove an automatic, but he laid his hand on the gear shift, cradling it loosely, his knees wide apart, an elbow propped on the door sill.

He hadn't asked her where she wanted to go, hadn't checked that she was willing.

She found herself silently studying this man who suddenly seemed like a stranger to her.

He was no longer just Castle, her writer tag-along. Not the smooth-talking annoying charmer who had gotten back together with his second ex-wife just for kicks.

Why had he, really? Why Gina? They started talking and connected again and that was it? All it took for him was a little interest? Ellie Monroe whispering in his ear and he was willing to be used; Gina curling him around her finger to make him finish his novel, and he was willing. Natalie Rhodes pressing against him in an elevator and he was starstruck. She didn't understand-

Oh.

He was lonely.

The realization astonished her.

But as the streetlights bathed his face, alternating shadows with harsh fluorescents, she saw the strain of being forty and a single father and wanting more in his life. Wanting it to mean something.

Wanting what Beckett had (or what he must have thought she had, but she didn't have it any longer; it was just as empty for her now going home to her apartment).

"Josh and I broke up," she blurted out. Her words fell dumb and awkward into the companionable silence, bloated things that were now hard to avoid.

Castle looked at her.

He lifted his hand from the gearshift and settled it, very lightly, at the top of her knee. "I heard."

She turned her gaze blindly to the window and realized her eyes were stinging, her throat was closing up.

She didn't know why.

She didn't want to have missed their moment. Again.

"Where-" she choked out, swallowed roughly. "Where are we going?"

"A coffee bar I know," he said into the darkness. "It's blocks from here, but they have freshly ground beans - all fair trade." And then he looked at her like words had meaning, and he wanted to impress them upon her. "It's worth the wait."

(...)

The ride was silent the rest of the way, an odd buzz of electricity that made his skin tingle with anticipation. For the first time in a long while, they were both single and he wasn't letting an ex or doctor or detective create another unnecessary obstacle between them.

He managed to find a parking spot right outside the coffee shop, the universe, for once, cutting him a break. He shifted the car into park and cut the ignition in time to hop out and move around to help Beckett from the car. She offered him a hesitant smile, her eyes focused on the press of their palms as she stepped next to him on the sidewalk.

She was still holding his hand as they went inside.

The little cafe was surprisingly busy for this time of night, but they ordered their drinks and were able to find a small booth near the back. It was amazing how fast the baristas worked for the overwhelming number of customers sipping coffee and enjoying the atmosphere.

It was quiet enough that they could talk and not worry about others overhearing, but also not entirely removed from the acoustic guitarist near the entrance. The laid-back vibe helped break the tension.

He watched as she took the first sip of her latte, hypnotized as the liquid slid down her throat. "This is amazing, Castle," she hummed, her cheeks warming.

She was gorgeous.

"Told you." He winked at her before taking a sip from his own. He was trying to keep his cool, but sitting here with her, he felt like a nervous teenager on his first date. And this wasn't even a date.

"No need to be cocky," she said, smirking against the rim of her mug. "Though my mom always said that too. I told you so." Her darkened eyelashes flirted along the delicate skin under her eyes and he found himself lost in the sight before him. Until she caught him staring, quirking her eyebrow at him. "You wanted to talk?"

"Right. I did." He cleared his throat and opened his mouth - to nothing.

Now that he had the opportunity, the open platform to purge his conscience, all the words dried up in his throat and his mind went completely blank.

Perfect.

Apparently, he was frozen for too long because Beckett broke the silence.

"Was she a good kisser?"

The boldness of her question left him choking on his latte. All hope that she hadn't seen Natalie's move on him was completely lost. He couldn't skate around the issue; this was why he had asked her to talk in the first place.

It was time to man up.

"She wanted me to help her research…" He tried to explain and it seemed pathetic even to himself, so he couldn't blame the scoff that he heard from across the table.

"Sounds like a line that a certain someone tried to use on me years ago," she mumbled.

"My following you around isn't anything like that." He was stammering, indignant.

"Really? You wouldn't take the opportunity to kiss me in the name of research? That's only reserved for big time actresses?" He could tell that she was trying to keep her voice light and joking, but there was a bite to her words. And then she lowered her eyes to her latte.

Was she hurt?

Were they both dancing around the same issue? Did they both want the same thing? He was tired of dancing, tired of trying to walk the tightrope of the push and pull of their partnership. Natalie had made him realize that substitutes would never be enough.

He had to just dive in.

"Kate, I told her no," he admitted.

Her head shot up, eyes wide. "You told her no?"

"I did." The surprise on her face made him bold and he reached across the table, placing his palm on top of her hand, squeezing. "I'm here now with you, aren't I?"

She bit down on her lip, trying to hide the smile he could see forming, stretching her cheeks.

"Wasn't she like your walking, talking fantasy? Nikki in the flesh?" she asked, teasing, flipping her hand over to thread her fingers through his.

"I'm done with cheap substitutes. Aren't you? I want the original. I want everything."

(...)