This was seriously fun to write. Oh, and I just realized that I need to update my Fanfiction profile thing. Because I'm 16 now! Yahoo!

To anybody reading Kamikaze: Your update is coming. I promise. It may be kicking and screaming at the moment, but it's coming. Tantrum or not.

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle. Can we move on now?


Take a deep breath. Just walk into that elevator, try not to scream the entire way up, and then walk into that bullpen like you own it. No, wait. She might not like that. Kate doesn't like cocky. Walk in uh…respectively! Yeah, that's it. Walk in there with respect but make sure you still have that twinkle in your eye.

Okay, the doors of the elevator are closed. You have approximately a minute to freak out. So get that over with right now. Just let it all out. Or you could stand stock still with wide and terrified eyes. That works too. Uh, you have to push the button, Rick. Come on, just stick your hand out and press the five. There you go. Good job. See? You can do this.

It's just any other day. You're going to go in there, hand her the coffee you get her everyday, and plop down in your chair until a body drops. Yep, just a normal day. And then you're going to ask her out. Sure, that's not exactly all in a day's work. But come on, you're Rick Castle. You got this. You've done this hundreds of times.

Well, no. None of the others have been her. So they don't even come close. That doesn't matter though. Remember that time in eighth grade when you asked Marissa Vianna out? You swore you were going to throw up. And did you? No. It all worked out and you got your first kiss that same day.

The doors are opening. Don't panic. And remember, respect. Yeah, that's it. Just like that, Rick. Act cool. Channel eighth grade Ricky and find that courage. Wait, no. Stop doing that immediately. So you forgot that little eighth grade Ricky was a part of the 70s. Not the vibe you're going for. But it's okay. You can recover from this. You're pretty sure nobody saw. Okay, so that uniform over there is smirking at you but other than that, you're in the clear. You're golden. You're at her desk. Try not to self-combust. Just hand her the coffee, throw in a charming grin, and sit down. It's simple. Just have faith. Say 'Good morning, Beckett' really smoothly and move on.

"Here." What was that? You squeaked! No matter, this disaster can be salvaged. Go for the grin. Remember, charm. Or you could grimace. That's cool too. Great job, Writer Boy! Now she's looking at you like she did the first time you threw a CIA theory into the mix. Take another deep breath. Actually, just remember to breathe in general.

"Thanks, Castle." She's smiling. Thank god, she's smiling. Consider this a victory. Now casually lean back in your chair and take the notepad you've started keeping in her desk. You can't ask her now so you might as well do something useful. Get some writing done. Relax. God, you need to relax.

So it's been fifteen minutes and all you've managed to do is write 'Chapter 13' at the top of the page, doodle an intricate spaceship and list all of the things that could go wrong in the language you made up last night when you were trying not to think about what you were going to do today. Obviously you have this under control.

"What are those?" She's looking at those odd little symbols all over your page. Well, you can't really tell her that you made up a secret language last night trying not to think about how horrifically asking her out could go. You could shorten it to just saying you made up a secret language. But that's immature. And you were really trying for mature today.

"Alexis is doing a project on hieroglyphics. I was helping her last night and thought they were really cool." Nice save, Rick! Seriously, that was good.

"I loved hieroglyphics when I was a kid. My mom would always leave secret messages in my lunch. I told everyone they were super secret spy messages, but usually they were just her saying she loved me." Why does her smile have to be so perfect? Why do her eyes have to be that beautiful color that leaves you breathless? Why does she have to be so goddamn fascinating and beautiful and just so extraordinary? No, do not hug her! That would not go over well. Just…just say something because you've been silent for too long already.

"Beckett. Kate Beckett. I can see that." James Bond. She's sharing her mom with you and you're blathering on about James Bond. Wow. But look! She's chuckling. And is that…yes, she's hiding a smile behind her coffee cup! Another victory. "Wait, you were telling your friends you were a spy and you scoff at my CIA theories?" See? You can be normal. Well, maybe not normal but as close as you ever get.

"Some of us grew up, Castle." Another smile. Be cool. Be cool. Try for a hair flip? No, that might be a little advanced for you at the moment.

"And some of us realized being grown up was less fun. Come to the dark side! We have Alexis!" You know Alexis is her weak spot. Hell, Alexis is probably everyone's weak spot. You don't see how she couldn't be.

"And I'm sold." You know she's sarcastic. There's no missing it. But still, you're allowed to get a little excited. And then she's going back to her paperwork and you know the conversation's over for now. But she just agreed to go somewhere with you. Even if it was hypothetical and completely illogical, even if she only said she'd come to the so-called dark side with you and you're pretty sure that's not a real place, even if she was being sarcastic. She still agreed. And that's pretty great in your book. Make a mental note to search Dark Side in Google Earth. Maybe you could take her there.

An hour. You've seriously been sitting here for an hour doing nothing but staring at her and occasionally having a mini panic attack. Thank god she hasn't noticed. Well, she's noticed the staring. You might as well admit it. You are not a subtle man. Especially when it comes to her. But at least she hasn't noticed the panic attacks. That might pose a problem. Please, just do something even semi-useful with your time. Anything would be acceptable!

Like planning out what you're going to say to her. Sure, you have a way with words but you might want to practice a few thousand times to make sure you don't end up accidently saying 'I really, really, really, really like you and I can't stop thinking about your goddamn legs and your lips and your hair and your everything' instead. It's a fine basis but you might need to tweak a few things here or there.

Maybe you should just get it over with. Just ask her. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. Be a man, goddamn it. But what if she says no? Well, if that's going to be her answer waiting until her shift is over isn't going to change it. Sure, you'll be able to live in your pretend little world a bit longer. But you've heard reality can be fun. You could try it out. Just do it. Take it like the man you've been trying to prove you are for the last four years. No, wait! Don't do it! Your little fantasyland is so much better than reality! No!

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Great job, Casanova. You blurted prematurely.

"What's up, Castle?" You could say it's nothing. You could totally say that it can wait and she should go back to her work. But then you're a coward. And if you're going to try to even begin to deserve the woman in front of you, you can't be a coward.

"Um, I mean in private. Break room?" She's getting up. She's getting up and going to the break room. She's getting up and going to the break room where you're going to ask her out. Maybe you should've stayed home today. And then she's looking back at you and you can clearly see the confusion in her eyes. What is it? Do you have pit stains? Are you really sweating that much? Wait, you're still sitting. Follow her, you idiot!

"Is everything okay?" How do you go about doing this? First, close the door. She'll kill you if rumors start spreading around the precinct. Not like they aren't there anyway. But that particular fire doesn't need to be stoked. Now just try not to piss yourself and you might make it through this alive. Just remember, be cool. Be smooth. Be the Rick Castle all the ladies love.

"Do you want grab some dinner with me tonight? Or some other night if you're busy. Really, whenever is fine with you." Wow. Just wow. You should be ashamed. You're a novelist for Christ's sake! Have fun never coming back to the precinct and locking yourself in your office with a bottle of scotch for the rest of eternity.

"Like a date?" Her eyebrows are raised in surprise. There's some emotion that you can't quite identify in her eyes. You're not sure if that's a good sign or not. Come on, Rick, breathe.

"Yeah." And now you're back to squeaking. Now don't close your eyes in fear. Keep the eye contact going. Yes, she can probably – scratch that, definitely – hear your heart ramming against your chest. And yes, you're shaking so much you probably look like you're having a small seizure. But at least you're keeping eye contact, right? Oh no, she's going to say no. She's going to say no, goddamn it. She is going to say no and you've ruined everything. Why did you do this? When was it established that this was a good idea and were you drunk at the time?

"I'd like that." Wait, what? You must've heard that wrong. You were probably just hallucinating because she couldn't have said that. She wouldn't have. "Tonight sounds great." She really did say yes. She really did. She said yes! And you know you're grinning like a complete fool but you can't find the energy to care because she just said yes to a date with you and she's smiling at you. She is going on a date with you. But you knew she'd say yes. You knew it all along. You weren't even worried.


Yeah, that was really fun to write. I hope it was fun to read too.

Also, DID ANYBODY SEE THE KNOCKOUT PROMOTIONAL PICTURES? GAH! I just about died from the intensity. For anybody who didn't see it I don't have the link at the moment but it's on my tumblr. I'll post that below, just take out the spaces.

http:/ allusiontoanillusion . tumblr . com

Review? Please? With a cherry on top? And yes, that pun was intended.