Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm really enjoying writing this story, so I'm glad you're enjoying reading it.

This was certainly not the evening she'd originally envisioned. A lukewarm beer at a dim bar on the Lower East Side, their usual back-and-forth banter routine, and then a lone journey back home was what had played out in her mind before she'd given him a call. Kate Beckett was not a dreamer by nature, not anymore at least. She'd taught herself not to expect too much out of anything or anyone, and that had kept her heart safe for the past decade or so while she warred with the world to find her mother's murderer. But living in that protective shell, behind a brick wall with an armed sentry stationed around its borders, became tedious and quite frankly, very lonely. Always keeping people at a distance, while a survival technique, had a price. To be sheltered and shielded from risk came at the cost of a life worth living.

Still, the notion of surrendering her defense mechanisms in favor of real living brought with it a terrifying, paralyzing fear. But she was tired of being so scared, tired of being so practical, and most of all, tired of being so alone.

For a long moment, Kate simply stared at the author's open hand, and by extension, his invitation to take a risk. Good Lord, it's not like he's proposing to you, asserted a sassy voice in the back of her mind, which sounded suspiciously like Lanie's. Dance with the man! You'll regret it if you don't. The detective considered the truth of that statement, then decided that she'd had enough of living with regrets, and wouldn't let this become one of them.

And so she smiled. "Just don't step on my toes," Kate quipped as she accepted his hand, rising gracefully from her chair. Luckily, she hadn't yet consumed enough alcohol to inhibit her ability to walk, much less dance, in four-inch heels.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Rick responded swiftly, trying and failing to keep the boyish, giddy grin off his face. Sure, he was a bona fide ladies man, but that suaveness and sense of security fled under the piercing emerald gaze of his partner, who seemed to know all and see all when it came to him. She didn't fall for his charms, she wasn't easily wooed or wowed by his money or connections. When he'd first met Beckett, the chase had been the most alluring aspect of his relationship with her, the fact that she was the one woman on the face of the planet that he couldn't smooth talk into bed with him. She was a wild card, an unexpected twist in his drab, predictable world. But now...now, she was so much more. He couldn't adequately express in words his feelings toward her, an enigma that he'd spent the past three years endeavoring to unravel and understand.

For the second time that evening, she let him take the lead, allowing him to guide her by the hand out into an open space on the terrace. Rick pivoted to face her, then hesitated, unsure of how close she was comfortable with.

Amusement overcame Kate's features. "You afraid of catching my cooties, Castle?" She teased, taking a step toward him. This brought them tantalizingly near to one another, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Hardly," he replied, before reaching out to her. His hand rested upon her shoulder, then palmed its way down her arm. His fingertips ever so lightly caressed the curve of her hips, before finally resting on her waist, identical to his other hand. Rick held her gaze the entire time, noting the way her breath hitched and her eyes darkened.

Kate closed the distance between them, coiling her arms around his neck. She bit down on her lower lip as the soft mounds of her breasts came in contact with his hard, chiseled chest. Whether he realized it or not, his thumbs were tracing tiny circles over the thin material of her dress, and it was driving her crazy. Her suddenly painfully alert nipples strained against the material of her bra, and her cheeks flushed as she hoped to God he wouldn't notice. To top it all off, she could feel his breath on her lips, as he stared deep and penetrating into her eyes, making her feel weak in the knees. When had slow dancing become so erotic?

Trying to calm herself, the detective inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on their leisurely sway to the soft, sensual melody of the piano.

It's not the pale moon that excites me

That thrills and delights me

Oh, no...

It's just the nearness of you

She recognized the sweet, sultry and soothing voice of Norah Jones purring the lyrics. When she opened her eyes, Rick was studying her, a mixture of affection and ardor clouding his features. She wanted to say something, but discovered that speech was a foreign concept, and all she could do was watch him watching her. She was hypnotized, entranced; anything and everything that mattered was in the depths of his eyes.

It isn't your sweet conversation

That brings this sensation

Oh, no...

It's just the nearness of you

"You know, I never noticed this before," Rick began, his voice low and husky as he interjected into the silence, "but you have little golden flecks around the pupils of your eyes." He was fascinated by this new observation, hungry to discover absolutely anything about her. He wondered what other little quirks he could uncover about her, physical or otherwise. Even after three years, he still hadn't peeled away all the layers to the Beckett onion, and he was in no rush to do so. After all, the longer it took, the more time he could spend with her.

When you're in my arms

And I feel you

So close to me...

All my wildest dreams come true

A rosy flush darkened Kate's cheeks, as she averted her eyes for a moment. But his gaze was compelling, magnetic, and she couldn't look away for long. "Should I expect to find a line about Nikki Heat's 'gold-flecked eyes' in your next novel?" She raised her brows, laughing softly as he appeared to consider this development. No other man could make her feel so light-hearted and carefree after a week from hell, he was like a vacation without having to leave the city. It wasn't that he changed her, or made her a different person. He just brought out the best in her, and magnified who she already was.

"I don't think so," Rick responded at length, his eyes sweeping over the smile that enchanted and brightened her face. "Nikki Heat has nothing on Kate Beckett." He murmured affectionately, reaching up to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips softly grazing her cheek along the way. "I've yet to meet a woman, real or fictional, that does."

I need no soft lights to enchant me

If you'll only grant me the right

To hold you ever so tight

And to feel in the night

The nearness of you...

Though the song ended and their swaying to the melody ceased, they did not yet part. Kate was certain he could feel her heart hammering away in her chest, as the air around them thickened with tension and desire. Her eyes were locked on his, momentarily dropped to his lips - which looked sinfully soft, warm and tempting - then darted back up to capture his gaze once more. Her eyelids fluttered, her pulse pounded as he tilted his head and their noses brushed, their hot breath mingling. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and she swore she could already taste him, a soft whimper emerging from her throat that she couldn't possibly have suppressed.

That little noise nearly made Rick's eyes roll back in his head. He simply had to have her. His arms enveloped her waist, tight and possessive, pulling her flush against him. "Kate," he breathed huskily, their foreheads meeting. He was almost asking permission, but at the same time, he was too wrapped up in the moment to care.

"Less thinking," she gasped, one of her hands snaking from the nape of his neck to tangle in the hair on the back of his head, "more..." Kate was unable to finish her sentence as his open mouth crashed down upon hers, his tongue slipping past her lips without pretense. She leaned heavily into the kiss, her body angling against his so as to make it difficult for them to remain standing. They swayed on the spot, this time to a different rhythm, a much more passionate sort of dance. One of his hands caressed her back, slow and tender, while the other roughly gripped her hip and endeavored to draw her nearer, though they were already pressed flat against one another, chest to chest.

"Finally, here are your appetizers, our oven has been acting stra...oh! I'm so sorry, I..." A flustered, blushing Adriana proved her worth as a waitress when she managed to hold onto the two serving trays in her hands, even at the shock she'd just received upon entering the terrace.

Still locked in a heated embrace until that frenzied voice reached their ears, the two nearly simultaneously jumped out of their skins. Kate reflexively shoved Rick roughly away from her, sending him stumbling backward.

"Hey!" He cried, arms flapping as he tried to keep his balance.

With wide, deer-in-the-headlights eyes, Kate rushed to his aid. "Sorry, sorry!" She exclaimed breathlessly, her cheeks flaming. They struggled against gravity for a moment, before she succeeded in pulling him to his feet, gripping both of his hands.

"Was it really bad enough that you had to shove me?" Rick murmured near her ear with a smirk, coming back to himself quickly.

Choosing to let that comment slide for the time being, she turned to the waitress, who was standing there looking mortified. "Uh," Kate forced a rather awkward smile, "thank you?" She wasn't actually thankful at all. But then again, if Adriana hadn't shown up, who knew what she and Castle might've done?

"Of course," the young Italian set down their food, then scurried out of the terrace as though fleeing the apocalypse.

Kate inhaled deeply, still catching her breath from the kiss. She reluctantly returned her gaze to her partner, to find that he was observing her thoughtfully.

Hands clasped behind his back, Rick cocked his head as he studied her. "Don't suppose we can call that one 'undercover'," he remarked, arching a brow.

The detective stared at him for a long moment, then cracked a smile, shaking her head. "No," she answered, running a hand through her mussed hair, "no, I don't suppose we can."

Rick hesitated, torn, then began in a resigned tone, "Look, if you want to pretend that never happened..." He paused, searching her eyes. "Then we can. It's up to you...whatever you want." It pained him to say such words, it really did, but he had to respect her decision, whatever it might be. It would be wrong of him to force her into something she wasn't ready for. After all, a few months earlier she'd said she wanted to wait until she sorted things out with her mom's murder before she got involved. Tonight had just been so incredible and she'd been too close for him to resist, but when it came right down to it, he would do absolutely anything for Kate Beckett.

Chewing her lower lip softly, Kate listened to his words with conflicted emotions, a million thoughts and feelings bombarding her at once. "Rick," she murmured softly, one of the very few instances she spoke his first name. "I don't want to pretend it never happened." She reached up to gingerly touch his cheek, her fingertips ghosting along his jaw. "Because it did." A soft smile graced her features. She could still taste him on her tongue, feel his arms around her, and it was the realest sensation she'd ever had. "Just like I don't want to pretend we didn't nearly freeze to death in each other's arms, I don't want to pretend that you shadow me just for research, and I don't want to pretend that the only reason I soldiered through being shot in the chest wasn't because you told me you love me."

The realization of what she'd just voiced aloud hit her like a ton of bricks, only it was two seconds too late to take it back.

Rick looked at her as though she'd just punched him in the stomach, hard. "Wait," he took a step back, both hands raised, halting any move she tried to make or word she tried to say. A storm was brewing behind his eyes. "What did you just say?" His voice was low, dangerous, as she'd never heard it before.

A chill shot down the length of Kate's spine. Her mouth opened, but then it closed, and she was speechless. What had she done?

"You remember." He spoke calmly, evenly at first, though his temperature was rising and his blood was beginning to boil. "You remember," he repeated, although this time it was not a statement, but an accusation. Rick inhaled heavily through his nostrils, struggling to keep his cool. He could see the pain in her eyes, she was desperately trying to find the right words to say, but nothing would change the truth of what she'd just revealed. "You lied to me." His fists clenched and unclenched, his jaw bunched and he roughly raked a hand through his hair. But he held her gaze steady, his steel blues lasering into her stricken emeralds. "Why would you do that?" The hurt, the agony permeated his voice for a painstaking moment, before it became cold and enraged once more. "Why the hell would you lead me on when all I have done is support you, respect you, sit on the sidelines and watch you run around with men you wrap around your finger to keep happiness at bay?" The author was positively fuming. "To keep me at bay." He growled scathingly, his eyes burning and his cheeks flushing with anger.

"Castle, please," Kate begged, feeling the panic rise in her chest. "Just let me explain myself. I never meant to hurt you, this is nothing against you and I-"

Rick let loose a derisive snort, cutting her off. "Nothing against me? Is that really what you're going with?" He shook his head, taking a rather menacing step in her direction. Kate knew he would never physically hurt her, but the force and intensity of his emotions was cracking open her unhealed chest just the same. "You don't know the pain I was in, thinking I'd bared my heart to you all for nothing, all to watch you to go back to that goddamn scooter-humping doctor." A twisted and malicious smile contorted his features, as his eyes burned into her own. "When you told me you'd broken up with him, when you spent the past couple months flirting with me, drinking my coffee, smiling that smitten smile at me, when you called me tonight and all but asked me on a date, you gave me false hope." He spat each phrase, each a stinging slap in the face. "But now I see that all this time, you've known how I feel about you, and you just don't care." He glared daggers at her devastated, broken expression, and then began to walk away. After slapping a couple hundreds on the table, he swiftly made his way toward the opening of the gate.

For a moment she was paralyzed, her limbs felt like ice and it seemed as though her feet were glued to the ground. But finally, Kate found her voice and called out, "Castle..." She sprinted toward him, throwing out an arm to seize his. "Rick, wait!" Forcing him to turn and face her, she pleaded breathlessly, "You can't just have a one-sided conversation like that. You can't tell me how I feel, or single-handedly decide the outcome of our relationship." Panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, she hoped and prayed he would let her explain. She wouldn't, she couldn't give up just yet.

It seemed the longest time that he simply stared at her, expressionless, before he finally said, "We don't have a relationship, Kate." Rick almost took it back after seeing the utter anguish cloud her features, though he reminded himself of how she'd let him suffer for months, and managed to choke out his following words. "You've known all this time that I love you," he swallowed hard, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. "But if you don't love me, you should've told me that day at the hospital. And if you do..." His nostrils flared, and his voice shook. "It's a little too late for that now."

She watched him go.

Sorry, but it had to be done! In order for them to really pursue a relationship, there can't be any secrets. I promise next chapter will see better days for our favorite duo!