Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between chapters; I guess this is what happens when you're juggling four fics, three novels, and a full-time job. But I'm back, so enjoy!

Also, my new novel BLOOD TIES is available on Amazon in Kindle and paperback!

Two weeks had passed since Angel had left the audio recording with Castle, and the more time passed, the more the writer wondered if he was doing the right thing in keeping it a secret. Though things had calmed down considerably in that time, Kate was still emotionally ragged. Burying Captain Montgomery had left the entire Twelfth Precinct in a fog, Castle included, and her mother was still a touchy subject.

So for now, Castle decided to keep the tape hidden away in the safe in his office. He would tell Kate about it soon, and despite his curious nature, Castle hadn't given the tape a listen. The first time he would hear it would be the first time Kate would hear it.

But that was a thought for another night. Tonight was the launch party for Heat Wave, Nikki Heat's debut novel and what Black Pawn was billing as the resurrection of Castle's career. Everyone from the Twelfth had been invited, and it appeared Detectives Ryan and Esposito were already taking advantage of the open bar.

So was Faith, determined to drink Esposito under the table. She was well on her way to doing so, largely because Esposito couldn't keep his eyes from staring at the cleavage Faith's dress put so proudly on display.

Buffy and Giles had declined their respective invitations; Buffy was too consumed with tracking down Spike again, while Giles had removed his glasses, using the hem of his shirt to rub the lenses as he muttered something about his books.

But whatever. So long as Kate showed up…

As launch parties went, this one was rather tame. Maybe it was a case of Castle outgrowing his reputation; as he got older, the less enamored he was with the throngs throwing themselves at him. The harder it became to turn that charming smile on like a switch and just dive into the bad-boy persona.

But was it age that had done that to Castle, or something else entirely? Considering everyone was milling about, enjoying drinks and hors-d'oeuvres, while he was seated near the back with his eyes practically glued to the entrance…

"So," the voice of his manager, Paula, cut through Castle's concentration, "when can we expect the next book?"

Castle arched a brow. "You sound just like Gina."

Paula shrugged and downed the rest of her martini before playing with the toothpick on which an olive had been impaled. "Hey, it's not my fault bookstores are already calling in secondary orders. You're hot shit again, Ricky. How about embracin' that a little?"

"You mean go out there and sign some chests?"

Another shrug. "You could start with mine. Or maybe that girl over there in a shiny hi-hugging number who's drinking your cop buddy under the table."

Castle watched Faith down a shot in one gulp, grinning where most others would hiss as the alcohol slid down her throat. A light smile tugged on the writer's lips, but before it could manifest, a commotion gathered near the entrance. Photographers were climbing over each other near the front door, flashbulbs exploding one after the other.

Everyone screamed over one another, so much so that their chorus of voices was largely indistinguishable. But the occasional Nikki Heat! emerged from the din, and Castle felt his heart rate pick up…

…only to stop completely when he caught sight of Kate Beckett. If Paula considered Faith's dress, hip-hugging, then what would she call what the detective was wearing. The blue number stopped mid-thigh, and the plunging neckline was enough to make Castle do a double-take. The dress contrasted nicely with Kate's short-cropped red hair, and even if she was apprehensive of all the attention she was getting for her entrance, she was still stunning.

Even if she wasn't the inspiration for Nikki Heat, Kate Beckett would certainly be turning heads tonight.

Paula let her eyes track to where Castle was staring, her mouth eventually dropping before she set aside her empty glass. "Holy freakin'… is that her?"

Castle pursed his lips and nodded.

"That's your Nikki Heat?"

"The one and only," Castle muttered, setting his half-empty beer aside before standing and abandoning the bar. He weaved his way through the crowd as carefully as he could, but his impatience led to the occasional elbow in someone's side. A few mumbled apologies later, Castle found Kate by a stack of Heat Wave hardcovers.

She had a copy in her hands, staring at the front cover with a reverence that made Castle wish he could snap a photograph and keep that expression forever. Instead, the sight of her so transfixed in his work left Castle stunned speechless and unable to move. Then she opened the front cover, and Castle held his breath.

To the extraordinary KB,

Who is capable of far more than I ever dreamed.

"Hey." He finally found his voice, and amazingly enough, it didn't fail him.

But oh, the way her face softened when she looked up and saw him… the way she kept the book cradled close to herself. For all of her protesting when Castle began shadowing her, it was pretty clear how much Kate's opinion had changed – not just on the idea of the book, but her opinion of Castle as a whole.

"Hey," she said with a brief smile before ducking her head. "I was just… the dedication, wow. I… thank you."

"I meant it." Castle took one more step toward her. "You are extraordinary."

The smile returned, brighter this time, before Kate lifted her eyes to meet Castle's. Her head tilted slightly to the right, and her eyes followed suit. Castle, seeing a lull in the crowd in the area in question, gave a broad smile and a nod, letting Kate lead the way, his hand ever so gently resting on the small of her back as they weaved their way through the revelers toward relative privacy.

Once they reached the spot in question, where the thumping music was fairly muted and there was no one to bother them, Kate took a seat at one of the circular booths in the corner. She placed the copy of Heat Wave she had been cradling on the table, letting her fingers trail over the female silhouette on the cover.

"So the night we met," she offered as Castle slid into the booth beside her, "were you escaping a party like this?"

"No, that was… let's just call that night the end of my Bad Boy days and leave it at that."

"Speaking of bad…" Kate inched herself close to Castle, their thighs almost touching. "Rumblings out of the Forty-Fourth that one of Wolfram & Hart's best and brightest was attacked in his office the other night."

Castle briefly stiffened – first because the cherry and vanilla mix of Kate's scent was so damn intoxicating, and then because he really didn't want to talk shop right now. This was supposed to be a fun, celebratory night.

"You happen to know anything about that, Rick?"

Castle shook his head. "Any suspects?"

"Just a general description. Long brown hair, thin, way too fast and too strong to be an ordinary girl." Kate's eyes glanced out toward the revelers again, focusing on the bar where Esposito had apparently waved the white flag. Or perhaps more accurately, Ryan had thrown the white flag for Esposito.

"Kate…"

"I'm not gonna arrest her, Castle," Kate reassured, her hand reaching out to cover his. "It's nice having someone like her on the team, someone who's willing to do the things I can't."

"Plus, it's not your jurisdiction," Castle added.

Kate broke into a big, toothy smile, her eyes full of mirth in a way Castle hadn't seen recently – if ever. "You really think that would stop me?"

"No." Castle's smile matched her own. "Don't think there's a force out there that could stop Kate Beckett."

Elsewhere in the party…

In a lot of ways, this particular shindig reminded Spike of the Bronze. Sure, the clientele was much older, the bar had more than its share of hard liquor, and those crispy fried onion flowers were nowhere to be seen, but the masses dressed to look as good as possible, and the veritable mixture of cologne and perfume was almost enough to throw off the vampire's senses.

Then again, his focus was more pointed than usual. He was after one person here, the one person he knew without a doubt would be at this party. He had a plan – a good plan – and Spike was determined not to let his impatience get the better of him this time.

No, this called for a new, refocused Spike.

Weaving his way to the bar, Spike ordered the strongest drink he could. Leaning back against the hardwood countertop, he downed the shot in one gulp, resisting the urge to shift his face into the mask of the vampire as he scanned the crowd. The two detectives at the other bar were familiar, as was the woman entertaining them, but Spike wasn't here for them.

No… the cops were of little consequence. The woman… he'd deal with her later.

It took a while to sift through all the assorted scents filling Spike's nostrils. There were entirely too many people here, and were Spike in a more… feasting mood, he would thin the herd. Slaughter had its advantages, and it was even fun at times, but there was only one vein from which Spike wanted to drink on this night.

Downing one more shot, the vampire finally caught a whiff of what he was after. He glanced to his left, his face shifting to its demonic visage when he saw the life of the party and the other detective huddled up in a booth.

The booth…

"Thank you, Castle."

Looking at the woman sitting beside him, and resisting the urge to plant a soft kiss to the top of her head, Castle instead arched a brow. "What for?"

"For everything," she answered with a one-shoulder shrug, her gaze studying the crowd they had separated themselves from. "You could've bailed so many times, and no one would've blamed you."

It had become clear to Castle early in his days of shadowing Kate that he was far deeper over his head than he had expected, and that it wasn't really about research for his books anymore. Not that it ever really was; Castle had been intrigued by and smitten with Kate ever since the night they first met, and he was glad they had grown closer.

How much closer? Her hand was in his, and their thighs were touching, but… he didn't want to presume.

There was clearly something there. Whenever things went south anymore, Kate more often than not sought out Castle's help or advice. She would normally be well within her rights to turn to someone like Buffy or Angel – individuals far better equipped for all the supernatural carnage going down – but she always went to him.

It moved Castle beyond words, but he also felt the weight of it. He knew his limitations, and the last thing he wanted to do was let her down.

Losing her would gut him, especially if it was his fault.

Kate looked up at Castle when she noticed he had been quiet for far longer than she was used to. Her lips quirked into a sideways grin, and she playfully nudged him in the side with her elbow. "Penny for your thoughts, Castle?"

"Angel came to see me the other night," he blurted out.

He could feel Kate flinch at the mention of the vampire's name, and she sat up a little straighter. The playful grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and a look that was somewhere between dread and confusion. "What did he want?"

"He said he needed to see you," Castle explained, "that he had something to show you. Something he found after Captain Montgomery was killed that he said would shed light on whoever killed your mother."

The crease in Kate's brow deepened even more, as it normally did whenever her mother was mentioned, and as her hand came off of Castle's, she slowly began to put distance between the two of them. "And when were you going to tell me this?"

"I'm telling you now," Castle placated, reaching out for her hand again.

"What gives you to the right?" Kate was standing now, her hands coiled into fists. The anger was coming off of her in waves. "How could you do this? Hiding information from me about the most important thing in my life?"

Castle pushed himself out of the booth. "Kate…"

"No!" Kate's eyes were filled with tears, but she wasn't about to let them fall. Not here. "You should've told me, Castle!"

"What, so you could run head-on into this thing, damn the consequences?"

Kate's jaw clenched and she shook her head. "Why don't you want me to get justice for my mom?"

"That's not it," Castle argued, "and you know it. I just don't want you to lose yourself."

"Last I checked, that's my call. My life is not your personal jungle gym."

"Beckett –"

"Tomorrow, you will give me what you've been hiding," Kate straightened her posture even more and sucked in a deep breath, as if she were trying to psych herself up for something. "And then this partnership of ours is over."

With that, Kate turned to walk out of the party. Castle considered following – hell, his brain practically screamed for his chase after her. But she was pissed off, possibly armed, and had Slayer powers. So Castle stood completely still, mouth agape and mind racing in a futile effort to piece together the past few minutes.

Where had he gone wrong? Had he misjudged in keeping that tape a secret? She certainly thought he should've come to her right away, even if she was in the midst of grieving her professional mentor.

So in that regard, Castle could understand her anger. But could they really be over?

His stomach churned at the thought.

Having lost whatever party mood he had left, Castle decided to sneak out the back exit and head back home. The tab had already been paid, the autograph session had already come and gone. All that was left was for the revelers to take advantage of the two bars, and they would likely do so until they ran out of product.

Castle had plenty of drinks of his own back at the loft. To say nothing of the privacy he suddenly craved.

Pushing into the alley behind the hotel, Castle flipped the collar on his overcoat up to fend off the chilly night breeze. He hung a left and began the slow march back to his loft, completely unaware of the presence following from behind.

Just as Castle was about to hang a right, take the next alley that would spill out to a busy street three blocks from his loft, he felt a force knocking him down from behind. Castle grunted when he landed nose-first on the pavement, seeing stars as blood began trickling down his face. Castle didn't even have a chance to gather his bearings before whatever tackled him grabbed him by his coat and flipped him onto his back.

Blinking the remaining stars out of his eyes, Castle eventually saw a pale figure hovering over him, black t-shirt, jeans, and leather trenchcoat. Fangs shone in the moonlight, almost matching the platinum blonde hair atop the vampire's head. He snarled, the ridges on his forehead accented with a small scar in the center.

"'Ello, mate," the vampire greeted. "So… you're that writer bloke. Richard Castle, eh?"

Castle grit his teeth, in part in an effort to block out the pain, his hands reaching up to grab the vampire's wrists. But they wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he tugged.

"Name's Spike," the vampire growled. "You have something I want."