So I'm all for challenging myself. I've challenged myself to write something that was exactly 500 words before, and I did that. So I decided to up the ante a little but. I challenged myself to write something that was exactly 1000 words. Now that's been done too, and here it is.

The idea actually came from watching the latest Pretty Little Liars episode (it's my guilty pleasure, don't judge). One of the characters said something that inspired this story. If you watch the show then you can probably figure out which comment set my imagination off.

And this is rated T for language. Honestly, I hate how subjective the rating explanations are. I mean, how minor is minor course language? Am I supposed to just know?

Oh, and sorry for any typos that my tired brain has missed. I probably shouldn't make a habit of positing at ungodly hours of the night but apparently that's when I always end up doing any writing.

Anyway, go forth and read.

Disclaimer: I find it highly unlikely that a 15 year old would own much of anything, especially a TV show. But I guess I'll humor you. I do not, and never will, own Castle.

He's quicksand.

The more you struggle the faster you sink.

And, God, is she sinking.

Every time she tries to pull away she ends up even closer than she was before. Each time she tries to push him away he ends up even more entrenched in her life.

Each teasing remark meant to put him in his place, every denial and all of the rejections. Every time she walks away because she just can't take the feel of his breath dancing along her skin, all of the times she jerks away from his touch. Every 'In your dreams' or 'Never gonna happen'.

It's futile.

By fighting it she only gets herself into more trouble. By denying it the feeling only increases in intensity until she can't ignore it anymore. Until she can't brush it off, she can't just push it away. Until it's too loud to ignore, that voice in her head far too persistent for her own good. Until she has to face the consequences she's brought down upon herself.

It's almost funny that she didn't see any of this coming. But she knows it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

When he first showed up she had one toe dipped into the thought of him, the temptation of them. It was only fantasy. It was an illusion, one he soon shattered with his incessant chattering and innuendo-filled comments. She scoffed and rolled her eyes at the mere suggestion of anything more. The notion was laughable, ridiculously far-off.

Then she looked up and found herself waist deep. It was terrifying. It was panic inducing.

She pulled away, tried to extract herself from the madness. She clung to anything she could find, her arms flailing as they searched for anything – a playboy image or a man-child quality – to grab onto. But none of those held, giving way after too many late-night theory building sessions and shared laughs over steaming cups of coffee and dozens of cartons of takeout.

But she still tried. She refused to give in. Kate Beckett was nothing if not a fighter.

She'd stopped to take a break. Collect her thoughts and regain some of the strength she'd lost on the battlefield. That's when she saw just how deep she was.

Her shoulders were completely encased, her arms trapped.

She squirmed. She wiggled. She kicked her legs in an effort to free herself.

She craned her neck, reaching for the denials too far above her head. She managed to catch one or two in her teeth but she dropped them almost as soon as she'd caught them. They disappeared into the quicksand.

Now, only her face is visible. She struggles to breathe, to fill herself with the strength to doubt him. Them. But it's getting tougher to do as the days go by. Each coffee he brings her and each smile he sends her way; every sincere comment and sweet attempt to restore her faith not only in society, but herself. They all manage to wear down her defenses just a little bit. Block by block they're coming down.

Sometimes she finds herself wondering what it would be like. Succumbing. Not fighting it anymore. It's not like she hasn't imagined it.

Because, God, it's just so warm and so goddamn inviting. He's just so sweet and funny and thoughtful. And he's there. He's just there for her. Always.

And damn it if that doesn't make her want to dive right in.

But then she remembers what there is at stake. What they could ruin. A friendship. A partnership.

There's a tremendous amount of baggage they each carry around. They wear the chains they forged earlier on in life. He has a family to worry about and a long line of potential deep-fried Twinkies. She has an incessant need for the guarantees he could never give and the promises he could never make.

Damn him. Damn this pull she feels. Damn how helpless she is against this. Damn the butterflies and damn the fluttering her heart always seems to be doing when he's around.

Damn love.

Love always complicates things. It meddles with perfectly simple situations that were fine in the first place. It leads her off the carefully thought out path and into the unknown, leaving her without a clue as to where the hell she is.

Love is confusing as hell.

And so she violently shakes her head, trying once again to free herself of the iron grip he seems to have on her. But that only makes her sink faster.

She knows that no matter how she gets there she'll always end up in the same place. Her future is already determined. There are different roads but only one destination.

It doesn't matter if she gives in or continues fighting it, she'll end up fully submerged anyway. Because there's no way to get out of this, there's no way to break away. She's only humoring herself by clinging to the idea that she'll be able to escape. She's fallen for him, and she's fallen hard. She's his whether she likes it or not.

He's tattooed his name across her skin. He's branded her. Claimed her and everything she'll ever be. Property of Richard Castle, she's sure the words are written on her somewhere in invisible ink. She suspects they're on her heart but she's too scared to look.

It's only a matter of time before he consumes her. Before love fully engulfs her. It's ironic that only when she acknowledges she's trapped does she feel free. Relaxed. Uninhibited. Alive.

There's nothing she can do but accept it. She's bound to him just as Nikki Heat is. He gives her life, breathes passion and excitement into her. Nikki is his creation and sometimes she feels like she is too. They both need him to bring them to life. Without him they're just shadows of what they could be.

She needs him. She craves him. She loves him.

Richard Castle is quicksand.

And she can't be saved.

Honestly, I'm not really sure how I feel about this. There are times when I really like this and other times when I wonder how I even managed to word vomit so freakin' much. But I posted it anyway because, honestly, I can't decide and your input always helps me make sense of things.

That being said, I would adore a review. In fact, I'd do more than just adore it. I'd cherish it. I'd love it. Pretty please? I love hearing your opinions.