Thank you to those who make the effort to write the reviews. Love getting them and a little secret – I print them out and paste them in my diary so I can look back at them in years to come. Sincerely, thanks. All us wanna be writers like the feedback.

This is a smallish chapter. The next might be a little way away, but going forward I want to do bigger chunks. I haven't written a story like this before now so enjoy the ride with me.

Chapter 2

Momentarily, Rick closed his eyes, prayed it would be a good text from the Detective. The elevator gave a tremor which caused him to open his eyes and check the console. The ride smoothed out. "Man up, Rick," he whispered, and tapped the screen of his phone, opening Kate's text. It read:

Hi Rick, I've changed my mind about your offer to go out for dinner. I'm free tonight, if you are. Kate.

Rick Castle couldn't help it. Alone, he fist pump the air, "Yes!"

He quickly scanned his earlier text to her, the one he had tapped out during the taxi ride to the Mayor's office. He'd hand written about a dozen drafts before he had chosen what he thought was the best message.

Ms Beckett, if you ever change your mind about that dinner, please call me. Always, Rick.

He remained happy with that. Not too much. Kept it cool.

Earlier, after they caught Tisdale, when he had stood alone nearby the police units and he had witness the very attractive detective complete that circle, he'd became certain she desired him. The detective had been sending him crossed messages since the moment they had met. She plainly exhibited she hated him, well disliked him, but she physically showed him with little cues that she had it bad for him. She would have moments of curiosity and ask him personal stuff and then she would back off stating it was none of her business. Should he ask a personal question, she clammed up. But he saw through that façade, as he did with most women. He found Kate Beckett harder to read, and she was certainly mysterious. She despised him and she was attracted to him in the way that he wanted her to be. Sending the text a half hour later, was only done to encourage her to drop her guard even a fraction. It'd worked, maybe sooner than he'd anticipated but he had achieved success. He'd quickly established she was a fan of his novels, so he had to ensure she liked Rick, the man, more than Richard Castle, the author. Smalls advances and retreats were acceptable.

On the ground floor, he stepped out of the elevator and walked across the white marbled expansive foyer to the entrance of the council building. Outside, the last light of day was long gone and the streets were lit up with lights going in all directions. Rush hour was at its peak with people approaching the end of their work day. He momentarily wondered what it would be like to have a 9 to 5 job. He'd hate it. He hailed a taxi surprisingly fast. He gave his corner address to the driver of where he wanted to be let out then sat back on the seat to relax a minute, and to call his teenage daughter, Alexis.

She picked up second ring. "Hey Dad, where are you?"

"On the way home, Sweetie. Did you have a good day?"

"Yep, nothing special though? You?"

"Best day in a while, Honey. I'll tell you about it later. What are you and Gran up to tonight?"

"I'm studying and Gran is going to watch a program."

"Are you ok if I go out with some friends for a while?"

"Sure."

"What you doing for dinner?"

"We're making something now."

"Great. I'm on my way home to clean up and get changed then."

"See you soon."

"Bye, Honey."

He hung up, pleased things were working out for the evening. Now for the date. He tapped out his reply to the Homicide Detective before she would begin to think she had made a bad choice.

Hi Kate, I will book a table somewhere semi casual for 8 pm. Jeans are fine. May I pick you up?

He hit send before he changed his mind. Now he needed to think of a restaurant he could book in for tonight. He opted to go middle of the range. If he chose a cheap place like a burger bar, she would take it he didn't think she rated worth of a reservation at top restaurant. He wanted to take her to be best eatery New York City had, but he didn't want to scare the crap out of an already jittery date by taking her to a $300 a meal establishment either. He had to go midway. He had a feeling that Kate Beckett had dined in good restaurants on numerous occasions, that she had a bit of a thing for French food, and generally speaking, she enjoyed any European food. There was no doubt in Rick's mind that the detective had experience the tastes of the finer things in life, but he was also mindful that she would be just as comfortable in a police bar, downing beers and burgers with her colleagues and mates.

Then it came to him. The perfect place for a first date in the colder months. Bella Gioia. A nice Italian restaurant in Brooklyn that made nice comfort food. He Googled their number and dialled.

By the time Rick Castle was taking another ride in an elevator to the loft he owned, he disconnected the phone. In a short time, he had secured a table for two at the Italian joint in Brooklyn and, had managed to book one of his regular drivers to hire a sedan for the trip to the restaurant. He decided he would play it by ear on the way home, perhaps grab a taxi. It all depended upon how the date went, whether they ended up at a bar after dinner or going some place else. Rick knew he was unpredictable but he wasn't so sure about what Kate Beckett would be like once she stepped away from her police persona.

His phone pinged. It was a text from Kate who confirmed she was happy to meet him outside her apartment. She provided the address and asked him to text her when he was a block or so away.

He sent her back the time he would be waiting for her by a car downstairs. On way to her place, he would purchase a single long stemmed red rose, to let her know his intentions were genuine and gentlemanly.

They were seated at a table with a timber bench seat to one side that Kate sat upon, and a chair to the opposite side that Rick pulled out. The table was old timber, scared with years of use. Kate laid the rose Rick had given her on the table to her right, then gazed upward to the red brick wall also to her right. Her left hand unconsciously felt her cheek, the place he had kissed her when they had greeted at the steps to her apartment block. A single kiss had sent her hormones crazy, scorched her skin. Heat remained on her cheeks and within her loins. It was a pleasant, wanting ache.

"Nice place huh?" Rick commented, "Relaxed atmosphere."

"Yes, I like it, Castle." She smiled and kind of pointed then waved a hand in the direction of a massive rectangular bluestone slab protruding from the brickwork, "That's neat. Wonder what it once was used for…"

Rick shrugged his shoulders, "No idea, but the staff might know."

Nearer to Rick there was a framed print of an old map that he briefly studied while he took off his jacket. An open fire kept the restaurant warm. He observed the detective who, once she had taken in their immediate surroundings, glanced around the restaurant quite inquisitive to view the rustic décor of the establishment.

"You've been here before?" She focussed on her date who hung his jacket over the back of the seat. She easily saw his sizeable chest flex beneath the buttoned shirt, his biceps momentarily bulge as he moved and felt her cheeks heat up once again.

"Arr, yeah, a couple of times with Alexis, but for lunch. Haven't been here in the evening," he replied as he sat down, "and she's not quite old enough to be here at night." He gazed about them momentarily before his eyes settled on the woman opposite him. Her cheeks were bright pink. "Are you a little too warm, Detective?"

"Huh?"

He waved a hand in front of his own cheeks, "You're flushed." He saw the colour in her face brighten further, only then deducing he'd missed something. Perhaps she was embarrassed.

She nodded, "Yes, I'm warm."

Nope, she was concealing the truth. Besides that train of thought, he longed to touch her fingers that were on the table, her nails playing with the textures and scratches on the wood surface. He was sure those long slender fingers would be cold to the touch. She moved the rose a fraction over.

"The drink will cool you," he offered. On the way to the table he had ordered their alcoholic beverages and water from the bar.

He decided to flirt with her a little, and said with much sincerity, "You look lovely, by the way, Kate." And indeed she did. She had dressed up and had done so quite spectacularly but simply too. She wore tight black jeans, long black leather stiletto boots and a lovely chocolate rollneck sweater that caused her eyes to appear amber. Her short hair was tousled. She really was cute.

"Thank you."

And he cheeks coloured up again. She was shy. "I still stand by my comments about your eyes too."

Kate's cheeks flushed deeper, "You're not too bad yourself, Mr Castle. I particularly like your shirt, how it makes your…" she cleared he throat, lifting her eyes from his chest to his face, "Eyes look very blue."

He glanced down at his blue cotton shirt, then back to her eyes, his brow creasing. He got it. Like most women, she fancied his chest, his pectoral muscles. He chose to move on, but gave her a look that told her he knew why she was blushing. "Just my eyes, Miss Beckett?"

Kate's eyes shot away from him and she fidgeted on the seat, crossing her left leg over her right. She braved up moments and looked back at him wearing the frown of a woman staring down a mischievous nine year old boy.

A healthy chuckle escaped him, "So, Kate, what do you like to do when you're not working?"

Obviously relieved, she replied, "I have a Harley bike I ride. Read. Movies. You know, the usual things. Go to a few games, concerts." She sat up as their drinks arrived. Two glasses of Scotch.

Rick picked up his glass, "Let's make a toast," he said. Kate picked up her glass.

"You go," she said.

"Ok. Well, thank you for deciding to accept my offer to take you out for dinner. I had a great time," he said, a smile spreading over his face, "I promise I will take good care of you and hope this is the beginning of something brilliant. Cheers."

"It's just dinner, Castle. Cheers."

They clinked their glasses.

Kate had a sip and squinted when the burn of the alcohol flared in her throat.

Rick tossed back a mouthful, swallowed, then corrected, "Dinner date, Kate."

"As friends."

"We must be friends, first and foremost," Rick agreed.

"Yes. Okay, friends it is," she smiled, "To being friends."

"To being best friends."

Kate cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable about where things were going, "And so, what does the author, Richard Castle, do when he's not writing?" She looked down into the glass, swirling the brown liquid, the ice cubes crashing about.

He had watched her long fingers close around the glass, and for reasons he couldn't explain right there and then, it aroused him, and he was momentarily suspended on pause, his eyes locked.

She looked up noticing the long pause of silence between them, "Castle?"

He swallowed. Gazing at her eyes. She had leaned right in to regain his attention, and her fingers shifted to his forearm, scorching his skin. "Huh?"

"What do you do when you're not writing?" Kate asked again, amused by his loss of focus.

"I spend a lot of time procrastinating about writing."

"Writer's block?"

"No, yes, sometimes."

"How do you ..?"

"I try to get out every day so I'm not house bound. Being a writer is a lonely profession. We need inspiration."

"That's why you stalk strange women?"

"What? No! No." He smiled when he noticed her expression, that she was jerking his chain. "Funny."

"Try to be. I'm ready to order if you are," she said.

"I'm ready." He searched for an available waitress or waiter and soon sighted a woman approaching their table.

"You're ready to order?" The brunette woman asked, her smile full of perfect teeth.

"Thank you, yes, we certainly are," Rick replied, "Ladies first." He nodded towards Kate, who fumbled about clearly flustered by something. It was then Rick realised she thought she had been caught perving on him. Her hazel eyes were wide, the whites of her eyes bright and she struggled to focus on reading the menu. Her eyes shot to him, to his smart ass smirk. Her sight returned to the menu.

"Has anything in particular taken your fancy, Miss Beckett?" He inquired with a good dose of cockiness in his tone, watching the woman squirm a little.

Kate's eyes left the menu and peered over the cardboard, flicking between his eyes and mouth. She cleared her throat.

"Umm." She bit the bottom lip, pinching back a cheeky smile. "Maybe," she squeaked, as her fingers went to her mouth. Then, she sat up straight, became serious, looked at the waitress and said with a commanding voice, "I will take the spaghetti and meatballs, please." She looked directly at Rick, pressing her lips together, then said, "I love eating meatballs." She licked her lips, then sat back in her seat staring the writer down.

Rick shut the menu, reached for the water bottle and poured himself a drink. "I'll have the same thing please."

"Too easy," the waitress said and headed off.

Rick gulped down the water, staring at the woman with the smug face, thinking about meatballs. He put down the glass, leaned in and quietly said, "One day, Miss Beckett, you will be my Miss Chatelaine."

Her brow furrowed. She too leaned in with a fierce expression and murmured quite adamantly, "Let's start with dinner, Mr Castle."

Rick roared with laughter, "Hell, this is gonna be fun."