A/n: Thanks for all the support for chapter 5! You have no idea what it means to me whenever people review or send me a message... it makes me feel so loved. You guys are great! Thank you to all who have stuck with it from the beginning; through thick and thin, through triumph and laziness- all of it. You all deserve invisible hugs (which are always felt, though never seen)... I'm really excited about this chapter, I worked on it allot and made it longer because I think you all deserve something like that.

Thankfully, Sleepily, and Humorously,

-K.H.

P.S: I know some of you wanted it to be in Kate's POV... so parts of the chapter is in her point of view..! Just for you- ;)

Date Night?

Chapter 6: It's All Part of the Plan

General POV:

It was set.

Castle smiled to himself; even if he didn't win the bet he'd get a date with her tonight anyway. It was all part of the plan. He'd donated to the Quart Foundation for Adolescent Cancer Patients (the QFACP)... he'd gotten himself two tickets to the event. He'd driven his Ferrari (for undercover ultra covert purposes of course) up to her apartment building. The doorman had stood dumfounded at the automobile; looking it over head to tail with the license plate inscribed 'ImAWritr' like it was the biggest present on Christmas morning. He'd arrived at her apartment door with a sly grin. She a had no idea... she thought it was just an undercover job. That was true, but he... he counted it as a date. Beckett might not- but he certainly did. He was technically taking her to a charity event, he wore his most expensive suit, and he'd driven up in his Ferrari. In my world: that's a date.

He knocked on the door at 8:15 right on the dot, like he said he would, staring down at his shoes. He'd worn his dancing shoes... shiny, expensive, and certainly another part of his devious plan. They were all part of charm. He'd dressed to nines, as planned. He just hoped she was impressed. The author sighed, reaching for his watch habitually- 'what was taking her so long?' Castle tapped the little hands of the watch hoping it was right. Pulling a nervous hand through his hair to aid with the suspense of it all- he sighed a second time. Tonight was going to be some night.

On the other side of the door

Beckett's POV:

This is without a doubt, in no possible way, not even in any way at all even metaphorically: a date.

I'm not going on a date Richard Castle- It's true I'm not. I'm putting on an expensive dress I shopped for hours for because I needed to fit in at the event. It's not for him. The extra puffs of cherry perfume weren't for him either. Neither were the spike heels which I know he likes. I'm not spending what feels like hours just on my hair for Castle either... it's, it's for the event. None of it is for him.

Or at least that's what I've been telling myself for the last four and half hours. I'm psyching myself out... trying to convince myself its all part of the plan. Because it is- right? Wrong. I can't get the idea out of my head. I'm lying to myself for my own sanity. Or maybe it's for his. We don't need him distracted tonight. I stare back at myself in the mirror... maybe I should've thought of that before buying this dress or the shoes... or even the perfume. But this is not a date... not at all... so I have nothing to worry about. Do I? It was dangerous... the man we were after would be there- we just needed to make sure he didn't make a run for it. We'd planned it out in detail with the entire team. We'd wear earpieces to keep in touch with the entire stock of back-up who'd be parked behind the art gallery ready to help. I'd packed her gun in her purse safely... and I'd use it if I had to. Hopefully I won't. I also packed to gun as effective tool if I needed to prove to Castle it wasn't a date... if he tries anything I'll just wave the gun in face. That'll shut him up, I guess. Oh poor man... he has no idea how dangerous I really am. And if he does he's ignoring it.

I expect him to pretend it's a date. Maybe a little author-like fantasizing... maybe he'll try something shady in the shadows. I'm not saying that'll happen but if it does... I did bring my gun. So I guess I'm prepared for anything. As much as I might wish it is a date... which I don't... at all. I glance back at the mirror at my face, fiddling with my curls nervously. One ringlet hangs in front of my face mockingly; I pull it back and sigh. My lipsticks smudged; I reapply it and fix it quickly and head out across my living room.

O.K. maybe I do wish it was a date. But only a little. Only in the slightest way possible. A fingernail thickness of wanting and wishing I was on a date with the man many women in New York City would kill to go on a date with. And maybe, just maybe... I like that. I might actually in a funny way- love it. With some eagerness I peek through the peephole in door at his bubble face. He raises his eyebrows on the other side back at me. I kneel away from the peephole leaning against the door. 'Ok... ok... just breath Kate- it's not a date.'

Taking a breath, I open the door slowly letting the moment take as long I possibly can. I do this mostly to give myself an extra few seconds to run if I want to, I also just want to make him wait as long as I can. It makes me feel better but soon the door is open and he's standing there with one of those stupid grins on his face I love.

"Well- ya' ready?"

"Yeah, um just give a me a second. I have get my coat. I'll be right back."

I flee from the scene in desperate search for my jacket in hope I can spend a few more seconds attempting to keep my sanity. As I flick past the hallway doorframe I look back at him; Castle stands in the doorframe impatiently, but strangely at home like he'd always been there. He notices me watching him, and a smug little smirk makes its way onto his handsome mug. He watches me with that look in his eye. I gasp quietly in return and run back down the hall to get my things. The gun sits patiently waiting on my bed next to my coat and purse. I stow it away praying it won't be needed tonight. With a final look into the mirror I pull my coat onto my shoulders, and run back to door and my awaiting author.

"Got it?"

"Yeah-"

"-Then let's go!" He's excited, in curious five-year-old attitude. I walk beside him quickly past my neighbors' doors and as I count them off silently I realize something: If does count as a date, I don't care. I'm with Castle and everything's all right. When we make it to the elevator he presses the button rapidly like he's been waiting to press that one little gray button all his life.

"Age before beauty..." He jokes holding the door open in a gentlemanly fashion. A devious eyebrow look blossoms as he watches me intently as I stride in first. We stand parallel, twins in our actions. He looks up at the ceiling when I do; I glance at his watch when he does. It's not in a comical sense... we just share the same wave of edginess about this. I question him in effort to cut the silence.

"You know Castle, that this isn't a date. right?"

"Oh totally."

Even thought I know he's lying to me, we both know it's true. This might just be a date. It has to be- why else would I be so nervous! 'O.K... Just breathe Kate. It's not a date... not in any way a date, not a date in any form or variety. It's part of the plan. He's just Richard Castle. He contributed to the event at the last moment and received a glossy lettered invitation in return. He's just here for the children. I am Kathryn Beckett, detective, muse and his friend. He called me up at the last moment and asked me if I would casually accompany him to the event. It's, it's for the children. Or at least that's the plan. I'm wearing this dress because it's all part of the plan... all part of the plan. I repeated it methodically in my mind. It was something I'd forced myself the think for hours up t this point and I planned to till the second I arrived back at my door tonight. It's all part of the plan. No worries, no regrets. It's part of the job.

"Well you're looking ravishing tonight."

Castle leans a bit in my direction, smiling like an evil man with a plan. The look on his face makes my heart melt a little bit; does me really think that? I know the compliment is for me, and there's nothing wrong with that- but it feels like something a man on a date would say. That's what scares me. It goes against everything I've mentally prepared myself for. Suddenly I realize I haven't thanked him or even spoken in return. I'm frozen; under his charming spell.

"Uh- thanks." I return, sounding like a sweaty handed middle school girl talking to the most popular boy in school. That's actually a perfect explanation of how I feel as well. The space in the enclosed box we ride in becomes thick with an awkward air. The rest of the elevator ride is silent, in effort to avoid another moment like the previous one.

Walking calmly through the double doors at the front the doorman smiles at us like he knows something- The guy gives Castle a candid 'thumbs up' as we pass. What did he do? Why did the doorman... oh my god-

"Castle. Why'd you bring that car?"

He seems distant, and then quickly falls back to earth. Maybe he thinks I didn't notice his eyes on me like a housefly to light, then entire ride down.

"Oh- it's part of the act..."

"Yeah right. Hand me the keys-"

"-What? Why do you need the keys?" Castle asks taking out the keys and dangling them before my face as if they were a sacred relic, or the last cookie in the cookie jar. I'm the kid sister, he's the toying older brother holding the cookie two feet above my head, and pulling my pigtails so I can't reach it.

"I'm gonna drive, come on give me the keys." I gesture my outstretched palm for the 'sacred' keys.

"Uh- no... You got to drive last time!" Castle retorts whining like the five-year-old he truly is. I glare at him and grab at the keys, but he's taller stronger and pulls them away just fast enough. I fold my arms across my chest in annoyance. "Castle- give me the keys... I'm in charge."

"Who made you in charge?" He asks jokingly and crosses his arms to mirror me. Again being the toying older brother.

"Castle. I'm the one with the gun. I drive." I whisper angrily. It doesn't faze him.

"Why are you the one with the gun? I can shoot just as good as you, you know that." He whispers back out of earshot of the doorman who stands a few feet away ease dropping. I don't know if he's kidding or not... 'is he serious?' I glance at the doorman, who flicks his face away from view as if he's watching something of great interest in the distance. I roll my eyes and face Castle.

"You certainly know why!"

"Please, Beckett. It's my car... I want to drive!" All he needs it to stamp his foot and we'll have to send him back to kindergarten. Why does he have to make this all so hard for me? Why? Because he's Castle...

"Fine." I cave, yielding car-driving privileges over to him: partly because the doorman's watching, and partly because I need him to shut up.

"Yes!" Castle squeals, throwing a victory fist bump in the air. I roll my eyes once again, watching him smugly open up the car down chauffeur style, like he's the smoothest, most respectful gentleman around. Or at least he thinks he is.

"After you detective,"

I slide into the luxurious leather with ease, ruing the fact I let him drive. I never let him drive... that makes this different than the other undercover stuff we've done. That makes it almost a day. I curse silently. Strike one. As the car roars down the avenue in all its elegance another lopsided smile shines in my direction.

"So... Beckett. Josh ever drive you around in a car like this?"

Oh my god. He isn't? He's doing that thing were compares them... I'm going to kill him. I somehow resist shooting him and watch as Castle raises an eyebrow in the rearview mirror, haughtily. I let a little smirk make its way onto my face. He perceives it as something to do with him or the car, and fixes his hair in the mirror in that vainglorious little Writer Boy sorta way he always does.

"Well ya' know he never did," This seems to please Castle who leans back smugly.

"But he does have a motorcycle I find extremely sexy." I let the words 'extremely' and 'sexy' descend on his ego chronologically. Both words make the author jealous and nervous at the same time. It's hilarious. The rest of the car ride to the gallery is silent, the only points of sound that occur are Castle's little grumbles and frantic checks in the mirror as the car growls along with him as we drive along. I've made a crack in his ego, and he knows it. I stifle a little giggle as I watch; he has no idea how much I love him.

"Here it is." Castle announces as we pull up behind some cars at a large geometrical building in the most expensive part of the city. It's a buzz with press, celebrities and cars. As camera flashes ablaze all around, velvet robes and privileged people fill my vision, we step out before the steps before the event.

"Mr. Castle!" A journalist yelps leading a herd of press monkeys along with her.

In all the bustle, Castle makes his way out of the car, and makes a big show of opening the door for me. I step out onto the crimson carpet- terrified. I didn't think it would be such a big event. He hooks my arm, gives me a look that says: 'Your all mine' guiding me through the throngs, acting like a gentleman.

"Here we go." I whisper stepping onto the first step up to the gallery. Castle glances down at me a sly smile across his face.

Maybe it is a date. Just a tiny bit.

A/n: Ok... I'll give you a second the scream in supreme glee. *Watches you scream happily* Ok... so... I know you loved it. I know another thing- you want to review. You know you do! ;)

Proudly, and in a fit of glee,

-K.H.