A/N: all the usual disclaimers about how none of this meant as a copyright infringement on the great work that Marlowe and co. are doing. It's just a little distraction that amuses me and hopefully entertains a few readers as well. So this is A/U and in this story Beckett is 25, Castle's 33 and Alexis is 5.

Chapter 1

"Is that all you can do? Thanks for nothing" Rick Castle is fuming as he glares at the beleaguered cop. "This psychopath is threatening my child and you're going to let him get away with it?"

"We're doing everything that we can Mr. Castle. The letters that you've received are being processed by the lab but so far we haven't gotten any clues. There's nothing special about the paper or the printer used. There weren't any fingerprints on it, and the postage marks on them indicate they were sent from New Haven, Atlantic City and Philadelphia, that's a huge geographical area. This guy is smart, he hasn't given us anything that we can work with." Captain Hockings from Special Crimes is very diplomatic, Richard Castle isn't the first anxious parent that he's dealt with. "I'll have a patrol car do some extra sweeps around your home. Get them to keep an eye out for anyone that looks suspicious."

"And what about the rest of time? Am I meant to keep her a prisoner inside the apartment until you catch this guy? That could be weeks, months or never. Alexis is a five year old girl. She wants to play with her friends, go the museum, see the polar bears at the zoo and go swimming at the pools. I can't keep her cooped up inside the whole time."

"I'm sorry but that's as much as I can do," Hockings apologizes sincerely. "So far the letters are creepy but they aren't actually directly threatening. Saying that you have a beautiful daughter isn't illegal. Until I have something more concrete than that I can't authorize a twenty four hour surveillance team." The cop would like to be able to do more but limited resources means that he has to prioritize.

Castle runs his hand through his hair making it stand up every which way. He's angry, tired and growing increasingly frustrated at the lack of progress. Logically the writer knows that the cops are doing as much as they can but it doesn't seem like it's enough. "I know that this sicko isn't some harmless fan. I can't just sit by and wait for them to make their move. Alexis is the best thing in my life and I'd do anything to make sure that she's safe. Please help me," he pleads.

Hockings sighs. As a cop he doesn't like working with civilians and he wouldn't normally suggest private security but as a parent he can sympathize with what the other man is going through. He scribbles a name onto a scrap of paper and hands it over to the writer. "Safe Hands is the best child security service in New York. They do security for the children of celebrities, diplomats and corporate high flyers. It's pricey but you get what you pay for; round-the-clock protection. I've dealt with them in the past on a few cases, they're very professional."

"Thank you," Castle says gripping the bit of paper like it was a winning lottery ticket.

"Make sure that you ask for Beckett," is Hockings' parting advice as the writer leaves.

"Daddy, there's someone at the door." Alexis looks up from her drawing. Crayons and markers are scattered across the dining table where she's working on her latest masterpiece. The doorbell rings again but there's still no response from the writer's den.

The redhead shakes her head with a combination of resignation and amusement when there is a deafening silence from her father's study. Maybe Daddy is writing? He can get so caught up in his books that it's almost impossible to get his attention. Alexis can understand it though, it's like when he's reading her Harry Potter and she doesn't want to go to sleep because she's been swept into the world that exists between the pages of a book. It's pretty cool that Daddy is a writer; he gets to create that world for all the people who read his books.

Her pigtails are swinging as she slips down from the chair and runs over to the front door. She has to stretch right up onto her tiptoes but she can just reach the handle. "Hello," Alexis greets the woman standing on the other side with the open friendliness of the very young.

Kate Beckett stares down at the smiling child with some surprise, if this is how casual things are in the Castle household then these people are in desperate need to her help. "Hello, I'm Kate and you must be Alexis."

"I am!" the girl responds with a gap-toothed grin as if Kate has said something very clever indeed. "I'm five," she confides to Beckett, holding up all the fingers on one hand as if to reinforce that fact.

"Gosh you're a big girl then. Can I please speak to your father if he's around?"

"Ok," Alexis turns and runs off towards the study leaving the bemused Beckett standing in the open doorway. "Daddy! Daddy! Kate wants to talk to you."

Castle comes running out of the master bathroom, soap suds in his hair. One hand is fumbling to keep a towel around his hips, it's the only preserving his modesty at the moment. Whilst the other hand is brandishing a shower brush like it's some kind of weapon. The sound of his daughter yelling and an unfamiliar woman's voice has his heart pounding in fear. He pushes Alexis behind him as he confronts that stranger standing at this door.

"Who are you?" he demands, fear making him abrupt and rude.

Beckett raises an eyebrow at the unexpected sight before her. Rick Castle, minor New York celebrity, bestselling crime writer, playboy and gossip page regular is standing there only half covered having obviously been in the middle of a shower.

"That's Kate," a young voice answers before Beckett has a chance to. "She's come to see you Daddy."

Castle turns around and pushes his daughter back even further. "Alexis why don't you go back into the kitchen and finish off your drawing?" He doesn't want to alarm her but he does want to get his daughter as far away as possible if this turns into something nasty.

Alexis looks from her father over to Kate and back again, she's a sensitive child and she can tell that something is wrong. A small frown of worry mars her forehead but she does as she's told.

"Who are you?" Castle asks again as soon as Alexis is out of earshot.

"I'm Kate Beckett from Safe Hands. Your agent set up an appointment for 1 pm. Your doorman sent me straight up so I thought you'd be expecting me," She doesn't offer to shake his hand, it doesn't seem the right thing to do with a man who is only covered in a towel, especially when one of his hands is occupied keeping the towel in place.

"Oh. Yes I was expecting you but you're not what I expected." She is so not what he expected. The woman standing in his doorway looks more like a model than a bodyguard. He'd imagined some muscle bound guy with no neck and a suspicious bulge in his jacket from the concealed weapon in his shoulder holster. Instead Beckett has turned out to be a young woman with wavy brown hair that frames smoky green eyes, and a sexy pout of a mouth. Although the suit that she's wearing is professional enough it still can't disguise a figure that wouldn't look out of place in Sports Illustrated's swimsuit edition. Slim, with legs that seem to go on for miles and curves in all the right places. It's a figure that he wouldn't mind seeing in his bed draped in nothing at all. The writer is so surprised that he takes a little too long staring at her before he speaks again. "I thought you'd be …."

"You thought I'd be … what? A guy?" Beckett raises an eyebrow as she waits for him to put his foot in it. This is not the first time that she's had this response. It annoys her that she has to overcome the prejudices about her gender in order to do her job. Some clients, in particular male clients, often have difficulties seeing past the pretty packaging.

"No. No," he shakes his head in denial although that was exactly what he was thinking. "I thought that you'd be … umm … older." It sounds pretty weak even to his own ears, but she has him so turned around that it's the best that he could come up with.

"I see," her words are bland enough but something in the dry tone lets him know that she thinks that he's full of it. "Well, my youth aside, I hope that you're not too disappointed Mr. Castle."

"No of course not." Captain Hockings had recommended both this firm and Beckett in particular so she must be good at her job, even if the outward appearance wasn't what he expected. He's also done some research himself, the word about town was that this company was the best in the field. Obviously he didn't do enough research because he's been totally blindsided by the fact that Beckett is a woman.

Beckett is silent for a minute, looking at him expectantly but when he doesn't move she adds, "In that case, can I come in then?"

"Oh yes of course." He blushes with embarrassment at his gaucheness. Normally he's very good at charming women but something about Kate Beckett has him acting like he's twelve again and tongue-tied around the prettiest girl in school. From the way he's behaved she probably thinks that he's some kind of chauvinistic idiot. "Please have a seat," he gestures to the lounge area. Castle takes a step back, allowing her to slip past him.

"I'm just going to get dressed and then I'll be right back," he excuses himself.

Beckett takes a seat on the leather couch as she waits patiently for her prospective employer to return. She doesn't mind waiting because the time allows her to observe her surroundings and gain some insight into her potential client.

In a city where space is at a premium, the spacious Manhattan loft with its tasteful furnishings screams money but that isn't what Beckett sees as she scans the apartment. Although the front door is metal reinforced and solid enough, it only has a single flimsy lock on it. It would only take her a few minutes with a set of lock-picks to get in. Ideally there should be a deadlock as well, preferably one set at a higher level that a five year old child couldn't reach and open.

Presumably the direction in which the writer disappeared must lead to the master bedroom and she wonders whether or not he has a panic room somewhere in this place. There's an alarm keypad next to the front door, it's difficult to tell how complex the system is. Is it monitored? Could you turn it on for different sectors within the loft? What happened to it if the external power was cut? She jots down all these thoughts onto her notepad, all these details will need to be assessed and dealt with if she decides to take on this job.

"I'm sorry about before," are the first words out of his mouth when Castle rejoins her. He takes a seat in the chair opposite her. "I don't normally greet people at the door only half covered and wielding a shower brush. We had smorelettes for lunch and there was an unexpected whipped cream accident. Either Alexis isn't very good or she's exceptionally devious when it comes to aiming the can, I ended up with cream all over my face and hair rather than in my mouth. I thought that I'd have enough time for a quick shower before you got here," he explains.

Her eyes widen slightly but that's the only sign of her surprise. She has no idea what a smorelette is but a grown man eating whipped cream from a can at lunch time and he allows his five year daughter to do it for him? Beckett feels like she stepped into Willy Wonka's factory, maybe there will be oompa loompas as well to round out the whole crazy situation.

"Maybe we can start again?" she offers.

"That would be great." He holds out his hand, accompanied by a smile that has probably charmed thousands of his female fans. "Hi, I'm Rick Castle."

Her hand slips into his, warm and slim but the grip is firm as they shake. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Castle. I'm Kate Beckett."

"Please call me Rick."

Beckett pastes a professional smile on her face even as she ignores his offer and she doesn't reciprocate in kind. There have been occasions in the past when a few of the men whose children she's been protecting have gotten a little too friendly. She's always made it rule to maintain a professional distance, it makes it easier to do her job if she's not emotionally attached.

He notices her restraint but he doesn't comment on it. Ok, Kate Beckett seems a bit cool and aloof but as long as she's good at her job then he can deal with that. Women love him, young or old he hasn't met a woman that he couldn't charm. It's just a matter of figuring out a way to get around that prickly demeanor.

"So how soon can you start?" he asks her.

"Actually that's not a certainty. This appointment is more of an interview so that I can assess what your requirements are. Safe Hands doesn't take on every job, sometimes what the client needs is beyond our scope of expertise or sometimes it's just not a good fit. In that case I can refer you on to other firms that might be more appropriate."

"So this is like a job interview but in reverse?" Castle blinks in surprise. He hasn't been to a job interview ever; after all he wrote his first bestseller while he was still in college. "I have to impress you before you'll agree to take the job? Well, I can play a mean air guitar and if necessary I've still got my Gene Simmons costume from last Halloween."

He looks at her expectantly, waiting for a smile to crack but Beckett remains poker-faced. "Ummm, ok then. I guess you're not a big Kiss fan." He feels the urge to squirm in his chair under her steady gaze. This woman looks barely old enough to be out of college but she makes him feel like he's back at boarding school and up in front of the headmaster for yet another prank gone wrong. He doesn't like that and it makes him defensive, unfortunately he has a tendency to say stupid things when he's on the back foot. "Is this interview just an excuse? A way to avoid saying that you're not up to the job?"

"It's not a case of impressing me Mr. Castle and I am very good at my job," Beckett doesn't take offense, her tone remains calm. "My whole focus is on the safety of the child, there is no room for egos here. If I don't think that I'm the best person to be guarding Alexis then, ethically, it would be wrong to take on the job."

He can't fault the logic in that reasoning so he relaxes back into his seat. "Fine, ask whatever questions you need."