Author's Note: Yes, I am jumping into the fray of fan fictions inspired by 'Knockdown'. Could not help myself. But this time I am not jumping alone. This chapter goes to Tango Mike Charlie, my own plucky sidekick/partner in OCD crimes. This story is inspired as much by our discussions as it is by the episode that made them necessary.

Rick, as she had finally seen fit to call him, sat beside Kate in her unmarked car. It was actually a miracle the thug standing watch on the stoop hadn't made the Crown Vic already. If they'd had time, he would have suggested a rental. He watched her carefully as she worried at her lip with her teeth. "He'll see SWAT a block away and they'll both be dead. I'm open to dumb ideas, here, Castle."

He didn't mind that she'd reverted to calling him that when they were working. It was a gift that she'd let her guard down enough, in her personal space, to address him by his first name. Back to the business at hand though, plenty of time for contemplation later.

"Good, 'cause I've got one." He described how they could get close by acting like a harmless drunken couple. God knew he'd been to enough bars and parties to have seen examples.

Exiting the car, he chuckled and she followed suit with a surprisingly girly giggle. He reached for her and she allowed him to tuck her under his arm, leaning heavily against his side. He fought to focus on their job, not how wonderful it felt to have her so close. They staggered and wobbled toward the big man, somehow managing not to trip one another. Under the fringe of his hair, he noted the sentry descending the steps toward them. Kate leaned her head on his shoulder so that her mouth would be closer to his ear. Her voice was musical but her words were ominous. "He's not buying it, Castle."

She pulled away from his side and spun into his path, reaching for her gun. 'No,' he thought. 'not yet.'

He pulled her hand away from the stock and spun her so that he was between her and the danger. He cursed the fact that vests hadn't been possible, even under their coats the bulkiness would have been obvious. As he turned her his hand came up to the back of her neck, holding her fast. She looked stunned, irritated that he'd thwarted her draw.

He'd written enough of these scenes to have mapped this out in his head, but he'd been afraid to tell her about plan B, for fear she'd dismiss the idea, even with so much at stake. The rejection would have been unbearable. With his eyes he begged her, "Go with this, it's a better plan," a split second before he drew her in to the kiss. There was no need to fake the passion, not on his part. He brought her to his lips like a man dying of thirst, faced with a drink of water. And really, hadn't he been thirsting for her, for years now? After a couple of seconds, he felt her pulling away, and released the pressure on her neck. She stared at him, utterly shocked, before glancing to the side, presumably to the thug still moving toward them. Apparently having come to a decision, she stepped forward to resume the kiss. Her hands came up around his shoulders, even roaming through his hair, and at one point he could swear she let out a little whimper. Suddenly she broke away and turned them so she could step past him, winding up and bashing the guy across the back of the head. It all happened so fast he had no idea how she even got her gun out.

The words slipped out before he could stop them, born of wonder and reverence. "That was amazing."

Still trying to catch her breath she turned to look at him, reluctantly it seemed.

He covered, knowing this wasn't the time for declarations. "The, the way you knocked him out, I mean. It was…" he let the sentence trail.

She looked at him, then away. "Let's go…yeah." He allowed himself a second or two to revel in the fact that she was just as thrown as he was. He'd known they would be great together, had told her so after she'd turned down his dinner and…whatever offer almost two years ago. He really hadn't been prepared for the…enthusiastic nature of her response, though. He realized he'd been holding his breath, just like he had when she'd followed his suggestion to "pop one more button" and just like that time, his body finally reminded him to breath. He swiped at his lips and followed her in.

She picked off the first guy with impressive ease. He stayed down as she engaged in a shootout with the second one. He watched as she and Lockwood played cat and mouse, but suddenly he realized the sniper had her in his line of sight. With no time to consider options, he acted on instinct. He dove for the man and brought him down as the rifle went off. He straddled him and hit him once, twice, three times, and suddenly Lockwood was unconscious. Chest heaving, he stared down at the man, willing him to wake so he could take him apart some more, this man who had ended Raglan's 'deathbed confession'.

Beckett's voice brought him to the present. "Castle, you ok?" She was staring pointedly at his fist, bloodied and still clenched. He wondered idly how much of the blood was his, and how much was from Lockwood's face.

"Huh?" He glanced down, then back to her. "Never better," he replied. He'd been her champion, and that was the best feeling in the world.

Later she approached the ambulance as the EMT was just finishing the gauze wrap on his hand. She climbed in as he started unwinding the too-tight bandage. "Hey there, Chuck Norris."

He allowed a small, self deprecating chuckle even as he winced at the pain. To his surprise, she reached for his hand and began to re-wrap it. "How's the hand?" she asked, her eyes on her work.

"Uh, excruciating."

She hummed and nodded knowingly.

"How's Ryan and Esposito?"

"Mmm, mild hypothermia and wounded pride. Guess which one will heal first?" Their eyes met and he grinned at the sparkle in hers. She finished winding the gauze and tucked the end under, smoothing the edge by his wrist almost tenderly, before she continued. "Thank you," she said simply.

His eyes did the asking for his voice, and she heard. 'For what?'

"For having my back in there."

He put as much promise as he dared into the single word reply, again backing it up with his eyes. "Always."

Could she tell how sincerely he meant it? How he'd be there for her, plucky sidekick, partner, friend, more, if she'd let him, forever? Because now that he'd felt their connection, there would be no walking away from her.

Sure, Josh was an obstacle to overcome, but what great love didn't have obstacles. Clearly he wasn't right for her, she hadn't even shared her murder board with him. Castle himself had been perceptive enough to read her on day two, and after just a few weeks she had opened up enough to tell him the rest of the story. That had to mean something, right?

I have been toying with the idea of writing the same chapter from Kate's perspective. Feedback anyone?