Launched

(a season 4 insert)


Richard Castle is nothing if not gregarious. But where once he prided himself on being the life of the party, he's mellowed over the years (he would like to think it's due to her influence). Life of the party no longer rings true for him; instead he makes certain that everyone who attends one of his soirees feels entirely at home.

Which means shaking a lot of hands, and smiling at a lot of strangers.

For the launch of his third Nikki Heat book, Heat Rises, Castle invited the Homicide floor, per usual, though he has yet to see a single one of them show. He makes his way across the ballroom, a classy establishment for this one - unlike the last of the Storm series - shaking hands and smiling deeply, enjoying the rounds.

He has two glasses of champagne and handful of hors d'oeuvres as he talks with his Gotham City poker group, finds the chocolate dipped strawberries on his way to the New York Times Book Review people (two of them, which is odd, but he doesn't ask and they both politely listen to him extol the virtues of the Twelfth Precinct). A magazine writer next, who offers him a few snacks from his plate, and then the Fan of the Month from the website contest, which takes a good chunk of his skill and time.

But he's constantly on the lookout for her.

Paula finds him with the fan and drags him away (he actually liked the older woman; being dragged away is a shame), and he lets her set him up with two older ladies, editors for a few different women's magazines whose names he doesn't catch. He charms, as is his nature and talent, and they twitter and simper and generally add very little to his experience. He escapes on the pretense of looking for his daughter, and in order to keep up the ruse, he does actually find her.

He kisses his mother's cheek, beams at his daughter, but they both shake their heads at him.

It's Alexis who puts words to what everyone is already thinking. "It's been two hours, Dad. She's not coming."

If Castle deflates a little inside, he ignores it. "Of course she will," he insists, letting himself glance only once around the room. The party is a success, everyone crowding the floor, talking and laughing, drinking, books in hand or resting on tables, well-used. "It's a hit, isn't it?"

"Oh, darling," his mother sighs, a hand to her cheek. "I heard the man from Black Pawn say they've ordered ten thousand less for this print run."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating, Mother," he says with a smile. For some reason, it's harder to pull off, even though he should be full in the swing of things.

"Dad, will you please tell Gram she has to take me home by midnight?"

He smirks at his mother. "Mother, you must take Alexis home by midnight or she'll turn into a pumpkin." He makes a dramatic noise in his throat and turns wide-eyed to his red-haired daughter. "Oh, wait. She's already a pumpkin. Perhaps-"

"No," she insists, a mock glare as she struggles against laughter. "I have homework. It's a school night."

"You're old enough now that-"

"Dad."

"Yo, Castle, my man. Your party is staid, brother."

Castle spins on his heel to find Ryan and Esposito approaching; he holds both arms out and grins widely. Of course, they ignore the grand gesture and instead punch his shoulders, slap him on the back, both with drinks in their hands.

He knew they weren't on call. "How long have you been here?"

"About twenty minutes," Ryan answers, shrugging. And then he throws a very pointed look towards the opposite end of the room, close to the bar. "Came with - ahem - Beckett."

It's obvious, and rather crude, but Castle is beyond caring at this point. He knows his whole face brightens, his spine straightens, and he hasn't even caught sight of her yet.

(He told her, when he invited them all in the break room, a kind of general you guys should come; I'll put you on the guest list that hers was a more personal invitation. And it was. He sent it in the mail, embossed and fancy, the same as the rest of the guests received, but he's been thinking it was too much, it wasn't taking things slow, it wasn't waiting. But she's here.)

"Over there, man," Esposito says, shaking his head and sharing a knowing look with Alexis and his mother. "Talking to the guy in the professor jacket."

Castle is already drifting away from the two detectives when his eyes finally catch sight of her - and the man in the tweed jacket she's talking with.

"Alex Conrad?" he squeaks.

"Is that who that is?" Esposito says, sounding like he's known all along who it is. "Well, hot damn. He's looking good."

Castle narrows his eyes at the detective but says nothing to the obvious jab, instead begins making his way across the ballroom. Alex is being garrulous, probably a little more tipsy than buzzed, and now Kate is laughing.

Real laughter. Eyes shining. She lays a hand on Alex's elbow as if feeling the patch on his tweed jacket.

(Alex really is wearing a professor jacket, as if that makes him more authentic as a writer.)

Castle rolls his eyes, but he's waylaid by the mayor and his wife, stuck in the middle of the room, far from the bar, while Alex orders Kate a drink and hands it to her.

She takes it.

Castle grinds his teeth beneath his grin, pats the mayor on the back with a joke about marrying above himself. The man's wife smiles, demurs, but there's a look in her eyes that the others catch as well, and a general good-natured teasing commences.

When Castle can finally extricate himself, Kate is shoulder to shoulder with Alex, leaning against the bar in a moss green dress that fits her like a glove. Alex is watching her, but Kate is watching him - Castle.

From all the way across the room, she watches him.

He stands arrested for a moment in the middle of a knot of people, caught by the heat in her eyes - and the yearning - before she closes it down and turns back to Alex.

The man beams, and her smile is just for him.

Castle is hunting her now, his fingers itching for fists, not letting anything stop him. He brushes off hands as they reach for him, silences Paula with a retort, completely ignores Gina when she tries to grab his sleeve.

He's halfway to furious (and aching deep in his guts) when he finally makes it to the bar. He's about to reach out and yank her away from Alex, just that much of an asshole when it comes to her and other writers, but before he can touch, Kate is stepping away.

Her hand catches the pocket of his suit jacket, grips, and though she's angled towards Alex, she's most definitely holding Castle back. "Thank you for keeping me company, Alex. I wish you luck on your next one."

"And thank you for listening to my boring stories." Alex salutes him, picks up his drink, and walks away.

Castle is left heaving for breath, his fists clenched at his sides, his vision a little crazy - and Kate opens her hand and releases his pocket.

"I told you once before, Rick."

He casts a bewildered look over at her (she's so tall, eye to eye with him in those shoes, and that dress is sin itself). He can't for the life of him figure out what she's talking about.

She leans in, a hand on his tie, tugs just a little. "I have the only writer I want."

A great breath of air opens his lungs and whooshes back out again. The black in his vision recedes, his chest eases, and the full beaming smile she gives him makes his whole body come alive. Attuned only to her.

She releases his tie, nods softly. "That's better. Much better."

He clears his throat, tries for equanimity once more. "You also said you found it sweet."

"Hm," she murmurs, lifting one slender eyebrow as if she has to think about it. They're standing mere inches apart, no longer touching. Nowhere does she touch him, and yet he can feel her all over his skin. She gives a slight shake of her head. "Sweet isn't the word I'd use this time."

"Oh?" He's lost all ability for flip rejoinders. He's still struggling to come down from high alert. He just wants to not make a mistake with her; he wants to keep her, keep his place right here with her.

And then she devastates him totally.

"More like arousing."

He gapes after her, mesmerized, stunned, unable to process.

She takes a hip-swinging step away from the bar, throws a smoldering look over her shoulder. "You coming? I want to pick up a book. I hear the dedication is all about bravery."

She wants bravery tonight? Oh, he'll show her bravery.


Prompt: "(pre) During a Nikki Heat book launch another writer hits on Kate (maybe she flirts back?) and Castle does not take it lightly."

Prompted by Alyssa (monalyssa33 dot tumblr dot com) and filled as a gift for her generous contribution to support dot chla dot org slash pages slash goodluckstana.