Hello, guys

First of all, thank you so much for the comments, who added to favorites and followed the story. And then, forgive me for the delay in the update, I had in mind to update earlier this week, but I was a little stuck on an idea that I didn't think was a good idea to develop.

I'm doing my best to do what I have in mind without imitating the show, but also without straying from their essence.

Hope you like it. Have a great read!

lehh.

His initial idea that Kate Beckett might not be all that was shattered when he saw her in action in the interrogation room.

She is all of that, and more.

More than a pretty face, more than a cop with a sense of style who wears nice trench coats, eyeliner and heels to catch bad guys. Her skills are staggering. And he watched as she interrogated three suspects, three, and those moments seem to be some of the most vibrant of her entire life, because it was just wonderful. Rick went looking for inspiration for a minor character in Wilder's saga — maybe some personal involvement as well — and what he got were ideas for a protagonist for an entire saga.

He could almost see how much fuss would be made about this character in question. Excitement filled her completely.

The next morning, over breakfast, telling her mom and Alexis that Detective Beckett wasn't as reluctant as they'd anticipated was basically offensive, because of the genuinely shocked expressions on the faces of her favorite redheads. Obviously he wasn't put off by the fact that he was going to be working with Kate Beckett again.

Recalling the memory of the horrible coffee shop at the 12th precinct, Rick not only ordered a brand new coffee machine, but stopped by a coffee shop to get an espresso for himself and Kate.

She's already there when he gets off the elevator.

"Detective Beckett," he greets once he's close enough.

She doesn't look up from what she wants her to be doing.

"How are you, Castle?" Kate says, and only then does she look up and meet his blue ones. "I had wished hopefully you'd pick a different detective to torment today.

Rick frowns, but doesn't let it get to him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint." He holds out his espresso glass to her, and cracks a smile before presenting. "But it looks like you're stuck with me, Detective."

Kate stares at her coffee, briefly, then takes the cup, eyeing him a little suspiciously, or just surprised, he's not sure.

"It doesn't seem like you sorry." The answer arrives. And she adds, looking genuinely grateful. "Thank you, Castle."

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got something neutral?"

"Espresso is good."

He nods. Is good, she said, but he has a feeling he wouldn't be her first choice, so he'll try to figure out what it would be.

"So how do we start today?"

"I'm going through everything we saw yesterday with a fine-tooth comb, making sure we didn't miss anything."

The tourmaline hue, the one in her eyes, was locked on the blackboard when the Hispanic detective Castle had learned to call Esposito arrived. Kevin Ryan was close behind.

"Hey, Castle." Ryan greets. "You around here are going to be a regular thing, huh?"

Esposito just stares.

"Hello, detectives." He smiled. "Yes. I just told Beckett, but I think I can say it again for you: you guys are stuck with me."

The detectives frown at the implication of the phrase, and Kate snaps back to attention.

"Guys, focus. Were you bringing something?"

Detective Esposito is the first to speak then. "Oh ya. Guess what, boss?" He starts. Castle thinks he seems too excited not to have a promising lead. "Roosevelt's alibi dropped. The ex-boyfriend says he hasn't heard from her in three months."

"Well, now he certainly has." Castle watches, not trying to contain himself. "Suspected murder. It can be considered a sign. Broke up was the right choice."

Beckett rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything about it, in fact she's about to open her mouth to say something very responsible and sensible like bringing Roosevelt back to the station, or reasoning something before that, but the other detective, the blue-eyed one, take her cue.

"And that's not all." Kevin announces, his features satisfied. "Actually, he said they broke up because he suspected he was being cheated on. They fought about it, and in the end, she admitted it. And I'll give you a chance to say who her lover was."

"Are you saying that...?" Kate frowns at the thought of it. They had already come to the conclusion that the victim had an affair due to a few lost hours each week, and the credit card receipt showing motels coinciding with those hours. But they found nothing that had taken the supposed lover.

"Melissa Roosevelt was our victim's case?" Castle asks, expression scrambled and shocked. He didn't see it coming. "Casey was sleeping with his wife's cousin?"

And has more. Kevin continues. "Last Friday, the doorman at Melissa's building claimed to have seen her leave the house at 2am. She came back 15 minutes later on the phone, he said he heard her saying she 'needed to get tested soon'.

He has a moment of reflection, and everyone should dive into it because at least half a minute passes of the four silent.

"So she suspected she was pregnant, and then she's going to torture Casey with a chainsaw? It doesn't make a lot of sense." Being the first to say it, Kate sighs. "Bring her here anyway. I want to know what she's hiding to have faked her alibi."

Melissa is back in the interrogation room less than an hour later, and this time, Castle walks in with Kate to take the statement.

"As a writer, I've heard and seen a lot while researching, now a woman torturing her own child's father with a chainsaw is something new, you know?

With a sigh of frustration, the answer comes.

"I didn't kill Edin, I told you that. And I'm not pregnant, by the way."

"So maybe you want to give us a real answer about what you were doing two nights ago," Kate resumes.

Traffic is awful, but they drive to New Jersey to see the victim's wife again. On the way, they pass a coffee shop, and although Kate says relatively quietly what she wants for the barista, Castle overhears and files it away. Madison Casey knew about the affair, but neither was she remotely interested in killing her husband, and when she explains why, they are back to nothing.

Kate is driving now. Castle is especially silent, and okay, maybe she doesn't know him that well yet, but the guy always seems to have a smartass comment to add, so it's odd that he's silent. Even though she is used to driving alone, everything is silent.

"You're okay?" she asks, really interested in the answer.

Rick looks at her in surprise, but nods and smiles.

"Yes, except that we've gone in different directions in the victim's life, and none of them seem to have anything to do with his death."

"Tell me about it." Kate expresses her frustration as well. "But there must be another angle to look at. Always have."

He nods and goes back to silence for a moment.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She's the one who looks surprised now.

"Sure."

"If you don't like Wilder, why are you still reading?"

He watches as she furrows her brows, evidently surprised and trying to think of what to say.

The way Kate tightens her throat, he doesn't miss it. "I like the genre."

Maybe it's just presumption, but Rick thinks that she actually likes his writing. He just wished she could be honest about it so he could dig deeper, like her relationship with Derrick Storm, how she met him, how it made her feel, if it touched her to the point of helping her get through it. a complicated situation.

But she didn't give him space. She seems pretty closed off to just herself and her work, which he respects, of course, but he can't help but feel a little frustrated.

"Right." he says and nods.

She seems to be the only one among them who pushes for elaborate and genuine answers, but here's the thing, Rick is not like that. He can open up to you, because that's who he is, who the work motivated a little more emotion and openness, but he's not the type of person to press back.

The excitement for working in the police force is still very real, and for following Kate too, but he has invaded her life without asking permission. He thinks he can handle having her guard up for a while.

A few hours later, when the pieces of the case fell into place and they identified the suspect's whereabouts, Rick was really looking forward to being a part of it, until Kate said in loud and clear words that he was to stay in the car. The arch in her brow told him there was no point in arguing.

Then he huffed an acknowledgment and watched them, in police vests, disappear into the building.

Even though he desperately wanted to get in and be a part of their first thrilling live chase, Rick told himself that was her element, and if maybe he behaved well enough the first few times, Kate would give him the perk of accompanying them in capturing the I suspect very soon — so there he was, digging through the Crown Victoria's glove compartment for something interesting to put together a little more of Kate Beckett's profile.

Rick thinks you can tell a lot about a person based on what they keep in their glove box. And he means it, in fact, once he was...

Her thinking is interrupted by a thud. It's not a thump low enough to go unnoticed, or ignored right away, it's the kind of thump that scares you enough to look where it came from and look for an immediate solution. And if Rick is right, and he is, the thud came from someone landing on the bodywork of a nearby car. His eyes look around, extreme curiosity and yearning for adventure, perhaps something he can be useful in that proves his worth as Detective Beckett.

And there he is — Alan Moore, his prime suspect, who is gracefully getting to his feet and adjusting his coat as if jumping fifteen feet and denting a car is nothing. But then Moore's eyes are on him, and he is able to discern the exact moment when he became an obstacle in the bad guy's path.

"Hey man, wait a minute, I, uh…" Rick tries. He has no idea what to say, but judging by what he knows as a mystery writer and what he sees bubbling in those dark eyes of the guy walking towards the car he's in, there's not much that could be said to stop Alan from pulling out the trigger.

Which doesn't stop you from trying anyway. But one second Rick is saying the dumbest things anyone could think of, and the next what comes out of his mouth is a high-pitched, agonized scream of pain.

The smell of gunpowder is as instantaneous as the deafening noise. But it happens too fast, and then his vision starts to blur and he vaguely remembers his body being thrown out of the Crown Victoria he swore to Kate he would stay.

Then there is only darkness.

Rick's face is happy. Kate can see through that, and it's actually comforting to know that he seems more excited now that the killer has been caught than he did when he saw a body and a chainsaw.

She's still trying not to judge, trying to see it in the way he seems naturally smart and quick-witted and how sweet he was to bring her coffee early.

She also noticed that despite almost getting shot through his collarbone today, he didn't back down. Thanks to a vest he'd put on when he thought he'd climb after the suspect with them, all he did was pass out from the impact of the bullet.

Not that she's going to say it out loud, but she's glad he's okay.

"You can go home now, Castle." She finds herself saying. "The case is now closed, as a cop I need to fill out paperwork, but I guess being a suspense novelist gets you out of that."

His eyes watch her curiously.

"You're right. But as your partner I find myself in a position to stay here." He answers and she arches her eyebrows.

"It's up to you. But I'm not sharing a cab with you."

"Our dinner would disagree with that."

"Our dinner, huh?" Kate repeats, a moment later. "I thought I was clear about that, writer boy. I'm not going on a date with you."

"Yes, and then you keep repeating it. It's not a date, it's just…" With a pause, Rick tries to formulate just what he means. "Co-workers sharing a meal after a busy day. Come on Beckett, even you need dinner."

She probes the invitation for a moment, that same part of her, the fangirl, kind of relishes the idea of sharing a casual meal with her recurring favorite author. The other still doesn't think it's a good idea.

"I'm not trying anything, I promise. Just a meal." He reinforces, and there's so much anticipation in that blue iris. It's kind of disconcerting how he seems to crave her company.

"So you're also calling Ryan and Esposito?"

"Oh no. They don't seem to enjoy my company like you do. But you know, not everyone can have good taste, right?"

Kate smiles at that, the way he seems to have an answer for everything, and it's usually always cocky and pushy.

It takes a moment and another, and then she nods.

"A dinner, Castle, but I'm paying my share."

The smile on his face is instantaneous.

"Yes, independent woman and all. Noted."

They take the elevator ten minutes later, her computer turned off, her papers tucked away in proper folders, and a nice blue overcoat gracefully surrounding her. She knows he's looking.

She can feel his gaze from day one.

"You know, most people would call you a stalker and get a restraining order."

His expression gets to be impertinent, by the cheeky smile. "You, on the other hand, are going to have dinner with me."

"I think that's because I have a gun and I'm not afraid if I need to use it."

"Do you always threaten people who offer you dinner?" His hand goes into his coat pocket for a moment, taking out his cell phone, he looks at the screen, but still says it directed at Kate. "That would kind of explain why you're still single."

This slightly hits her ego. "I don't remember telling you that I'm single, Castle."

He squints, moving them from the phone.

"You are not?"

"That's not the point."

"Ah-ha! That's all the confirmation I need." The celebration on her face and her tone of voice is almost too much. "Hold on, Beckett. I need to let Alexis know I'm going out to dinner. I don't want her to wait for me."

They walk across the parking lot in silence as he writes to his daughter, and she secretly thinks that is very thoughtful of him. As a good connoisseur — of the genre, of course, not his — she is no stranger to Alexis Castle's existence. And part of her has always wondered what kind of dad he is, and it's nice to find out about it firsthand rather than ending up reading it in some tabloid — not that she reads that kind of stuff, anyway.

Despite her initial claim, they share a cab, and Castle is still on the phone, so she's the one picking the destination. She hopes he doesn't have anything against pasta, because she kind of feels like Italian food today.

He's the one who pays for the ride, and before she protests, he advances that since she's going to pay for her own dinner, it's the least he can do. She's not in the mood to argue, so let it go.

Part of her thinks this is a mistake, that going out to dinner with him like this, especially considering his status, is a recipe for disaster that will be her face plastered in the papers saying how cute they are (or aren't) together. and what their children will be like when they marry. The media loves a good story, and most of them are well-written fiction.

"So Kate Beckett is the type to choose pasta over a salad on the first date? Thank goodness for little mercies."

"What's up, Castle? Too used to dating super models?"

"Well, technically I never dated one. My ex-wife is an actress, and I almost married my editor and former agent, but well, no models around here."

Kate also already knows this information, but she doesn't say anything. And when they enter the establishment, the smell of food makes her stomach snore. She hadn't realized she was so hungry.

This is a reserved place, quite informal, even. It's one of the main features that make her appreciate the environment even more. It has real food, cold cheap beer, traditional wines to add options, and a reasonable and cozy structure. Not as flashy as she's sure it would be if she actually went on a date with Richard Castle.

"You come here often?"

"Seriously, Castle?"

"Not a bad line. Just curious. I've never heard of it before." He says, as he looks at the menu.

"Yes, it sure is different here than the picturesque places you usually go, I suppose."

He smiled. "Maybe you don't have to guess. Maybe you're an active fan on castle fandom and know all about me."

She has a quick answer for that. "In your dreams." Even if there's some truth to it.

He chooses the wine for them as soon as she asks what she's going to eat. And while they wait, she touches on a subject she mentioned a few moments earlier.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

The same childlike excitement is spread and shimmering all over him. The satisfaction at the idea that she cares seems to work wonders for him.

"Do your best, Beckett. I'm an open book."

a lover of puns, she rolls her eyes, again.

"I'm just making conversation to pass the time, I'm starving, and I don't want to just be kept waiting." Her justification is terrible, but he doesn't point it out. "It's just… you said you almost married your old agent. Why didn't you?"

The question seems to take him by surprise, but not enough to shake him.

"Alexis." He says, and pauses. "I mean, it's not her fault. I just didn't know how to share. Gina and I fought a lot because I was kind of selfish to her about Alexis."

Honestly, that's not the answer Kate was hoping for. She asks him to elaborate.

"Why?"

"I guess I was just afraid that Alexis would get too involved with her and see her go like she had to see her own mother, so I sort of indirectly sabotaged any and all connections they might have had."

"Wow."

"Yes. And well, with a month to go before the wedding she said she would ask Alexis to be her maid of honor, and I, uh, wasn't exactly in favor. Then she confronted me and we had a big fight. She said she couldn't live in Meredith's shadow forever. That it wasn't fair to associate Meredith's mistakes to her."

"She was right."

"I know. I think that makes it a little worse. Just because my first wife cheated on me with her director and left leaving our daughter doesn't mean my second wife would do the same. I think it was just... it was a little harder to reconcile than I found."

Kate nods. She can't say that she agrees, but she can put herself in his shoes and understand a little.

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Say what?"

"That you almost got shot today?"

"Why would I tell my ex I almost got shot?"

"No Ginna, Castle. Alexis. Are you going to tell Alexis?"

"I… uh, I will. She'll probably ask, and I don't lie to her."

Kate nods, particularly pleased with that answer.

"How about you?" He's the one asking this time.

"What about me?"

"Did you already married?"

"Oh no."

"Why?"

"I just… haven't found the right person." She answers honestly. "And I'm not the type to try it out or get divorced. I want the whole thing just once, you know?"

His eyes keep glinting in her direction, like she's saying the most interesting thing in the world, and suddenly she feels a little too exposed. She scratches her throat.

And the waiter has a very good timer, because he arrives at that exact moment with the wine that Castle ordered. He pours both their glasses, while a not-so-awkward, not-so-comfortable silence hangs between them.

"What else do you want?" He asks

"That's a very expansive question, Castle." Kate reflects, taken aback and cringing a little. "Can you be a little more specific? Also, this is looking like a date and I already told you I wouldn't go on a date with you."

"Right. You're right. What are your professional aspirations?" he asks, genuinely curious. "Senator? FBI agent? President of Mars or something?"

A smile twists her lips. "I don't think anything that exciting, Castle." Kate responds. "Actually, I would be content to be captain of my own district someday."

"Sounds like you."

"You think?"

"Yes. I mean, you're a born leader, if you have any questions, ask Esposito and Ryan and how they obey you without question. Plus, you have the right style and aura."

"Right aura?"

He smiled.

"Yes, that changes everything."

Hate rolls her eyes. "Thanks. I guess."

"Oh, that was certainly a compliment." Rick says, just for reassurance. "I'm still stuck on your interrogations. You use a different method with each one."

"Human beings are versatile. They respond to different strategies." She shrugs, saying it like he doesn't know.

"I used to get into a lot of trouble. I feel like you could have interrogated me in another life."

"So you would be a murderer?"

"Oh, no. I just kill people on paper. But they could have set me up. Someone could reenact scenes from my books and you'd need my help on the case. I could just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. These things happen."

Try as she might, she knows she can't disguise the transparency of pain that flares in his eyes as he brings up the wrong place at the wrong time thing, or the lump the size of Times Square lodged in her throat.

"Yes, I guess these things happen."

The next forty minutes pass easily and entertainingly. Rick makes dumb and really funny jokes about everything and nothing, they talk about the case, they wine and have dinner and she rolls her eyes at him. This one seems like an easy pass between them, like they've known each other for ages and this is their default interaction. Kate isn't sure when she had so much fun.

When it's time to go home, they start by walking along the front of the building and taking the corner instead of simply taking a taxi, she doesn't know his excuse, but the truth is that she's not ready to give up the company.

"So she said she should date Louise's brother. I mean, she's 14, Beckett. 14. What do 14-year-olds know?"

It's cute how panic shows on his face.

"Well, very much. But you said she's a responsible girl. Give her a vote of confidence, Rick."

His name unbiddenly rolled off her tongue, and the realization of it got to him, too, judging by the satisfied smile on his mouth.

"I've never been a parent to a teenager before. It's kind of scary."

"I bet it is. But you've handled it so far."

"It's because she's amazing. Trust me, I can't take credit."

The way he looks like a proud father makes a smile tug at her lips.

"So trust her she will be amazing about it too. And maybe she won't, but kids need to fail to learn, to create their own experiences of the world and to know who they really are."

Rick consents to it, she can tell. But that doesn't make it any less scary for him. She thinks it wouldn't make it any easier if she was a mother either.

"Have you thought about having kids?" He asks.

"Wow, Castle." Kate presses her lips together. "You really don't know how to hear a no, do you?"

He laughs. "I'm just curious."

"Yeah, are you always so quick with the women you ask out? First date and we're already having the conversation about kids."

Rick's jaw clenches, but he maintains a smile and an amused, open expression.

"Not all of them. Just the ones who refuse to go out with me and buy their own dinner when they finally agree."

She probes his response. She rolls her eyes and is silent for a moment while they still walk.

"I, uh… I'm not closed to the idea, you know?" She finally responds. "But it's not something I'm looking for right now. Not to mention the man's part of the equation is missing."

He nods.

He nods.

"I think you would be a fantastic mother."

"And you deduced that after following me around for two days?"

"I'm not sure how to explain this, Beckett. You know the thing I said about leader aura?" He asks and she nods. "I just think you have a mother aura too. And man, you would be awesome at that."

She doesn't quite know what to say. "Thanks, I guess."

"You are welcome."

They walk some more, in a silence that feels too comfortable now.

"Is cold." Rick reflects. "Let's share a cab."

During the taxi ride, they don't say anything else either. But for some reason, the contentment from the fun night remains there, hovering around and over them. Her fate comes first.

He watches the building's facade as he watches it descend.

"Good night, Castle. It's been a nice night." Kate says, paying part of it, because this time she won't let him pay either.

"My pleasure, Beckett. I'm always available for a no-date whenever you want." He responds happily. "And if you change your mind about a date, let me know too."

She rolls her eyes at him, again, and he's lost count of how many times she's done it these two days, and he kind of likes it.

"Goodbye Castle."

"Until tomorrow, Detective Beckett."