A/N: I am so incredibly horrendous at updating apparently. I've been so busy with classes and other things lately that just haven't had the time. But this one's a bit longer, so I hope that helps make up for my absence, please forgive me.

Here's the Heat Wave launch party scene. Hope you enjoy! (Please review!)

Kate turned the corner and prayed that, by some miracle, the throng of paparazzi would either not see her, or simply not recognize her. That hope was dashed however, when she heard one particularly bold cameraman exclaim: "Hey! There's Nikki Heat!"

Ugh, she thought as the cameras started flashing. Do they even know my real name? Better yet, do they realize I could kick their asses six ways to Sunday without even breaking a sweat, even in this ridiculous dress? She'd only worn the dress to torture Castle; give him a taste of what he'd be missing if he decided to write that "British secret agent" instead of Nikki, not that she cared. And God did she hate that name.

Kate, finally passing through the press line, looked around awkwardly. She'd always hated parties, but this one was worse than anything she'd ever experienced, and she'd only been there for about thirty seconds. She rolled her eyes as she scanned the room.

Finding Montgomery, she smiled, at least she wouldn't have to put up with small talk with strangers who thought they knew her because they'd read the book. That would be excruciating.

"You clean up pretty nice, Detective." From anyone else, it would have made her cringe, but from Montgomery, she knew it was a genuine compliment.

"Thank you Sir."

"Castle's gonna be happy to see you." Kate's whole body stiffened and her smile fell. What did that mean? "Have you read the dedication?"

"No." Ice ran through her veins. What could Castle have possibly written to put that smug grin on Montgomery's face? "What does it say?" He gave her a knowing look.

"Go see for yourself. Excuse me." She wanted to yell for him to stay, grab his shoulder so he wouldn't leave her standing alone. But she was also dying to read the dedication, so she let him go.

On her way over to the ridiculous table of copies of Heat Wave, Kate bit her lip.

For the past year, she had been nothing but annoyed by Castle. But when he said he might be leaving, her chest had tightened. She didn't want to think about coming to work without having him there distracting her. The small part of her brain that had accepted his presence, the same small part that reminded her daily what twenty year old Kate Beckett thought of Richard Castle, was now wondering if he was tying to use his dedication as the ultimate way of impressing her. The other, very large section of her brain that refused to even acknowledge she'd known who he was before interrogating him, told that small part to pipe down and get a grip.

When she reached the table, she stood looking around for a moment, hoping against hope that Castle wouldn't see her. This wasn't something she wanted him to witness. She picked up one of the books, trying, and failing, to be inconspicuous. She could feel eyes on her, but couldn't see anybody watching her, so she thought maybe she was imagining it.

His picture was on the back cover, and damn it she couldn't help but stare at if for a few seconds before turning it over and opening to the dedication, smiling slightly.

"To the extraordinary KB and all my friends at the 12th."

She wanted to be angry, that he'd thought it was okay to put her initials in his dedication, but she couldn't muster it. Because Richard Castle had dedicated a book to her. She always loved the dedications in the books she read. Knowing that at least most authors took great care in choosing what to write in those first lines, Kate had always read them carefully. More than once she had daydreamed about being that important to somebody. It scared her to think that now she might be, to Castle. And that damn word. "Extraordinary." Hearing him call her that in person had been startling, but to see it in print? It took her breath away.

"Hey." Shit. Kate whipped around at the sound of his voice, knowing she was thoroughly busted.

"Hey," she replied, trying to sound like she had more control over herself than she actually did. "I – hu… I was just, uh… the uh… the dedication. Wow. Thank you." She handed the book to him, her brain apparently incapable of stringing words together into full sentences.

"I meant it. You are extraordinary." And with the look he was giving her, she almost believed she could be. She almost believed that maybe, just maybe, if she let it happen, she wouldn't be just another conquest, just another notch in his bedpost. She smiled at the thought.

"Listen." He took a step forward and Kate's heart started beating faster. Damn him and how he could make her feel. "I was thinking." Her face dropped and she swallowed hard, really not sure if she wanted him to continue or not, but she was leaning toward the former. He wet his lips with his tongue and somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that she'd stopped breathing. "What if the wife got onto the affair?"

What? He was standing a little more than a foot away from her, staring seriously into her eyes, and he was asking about the wife? The rapid change in subject was giving her whiplash as a wave of disappointment washed over her.

"Melissa Talbot?" She asked, trying to recover as gracefully as she could. "A killer?"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Of course he'd pull out a cliché now.

"Ah… well, uh." She furrowed her brow, still trying to shake off their almost-moment. It had almost been a moment, hadn't it? It hadn't just been her imagination right? "Anything's possible. I didn't see it that way."

"Huh, you're just saying that because you've never been scorned."

She glared at him, hurt that he'd apparently been oblivious to their almost-moment.

"What makes you say that?" She wasn't sure she wanted the answer, in fact, she knew she didn't. But if she didn't ask, the question would eat her alive. And he had the audacity to chuckle. Not even laugh, but chuckle.

"Oh come on, what man has ever turned you away?" You, just now. She looked at him point blank for a second as he studied his own book. Could his ego get any bigger? But then a wave of pain hit her as she realized he truly hadn't recognized what he'd been doing to her. Didn't understand that she'd worn this damn dress for him. Didn't see that, even though she'd never admit to it, she really didn't want him to quit writing Nikki. So she recovered the only way she could think to.

"So, any word on a certain British secret agent who shall not be named?"