She isn't sure why that, out of all the scenes in this book, that one in particular is her favorite.
When she first heard about it, she figured it would be a sex scene, because, well, it's him and her altered just enough so most people think it's make believe, but close enough to reality so that she knows. And, well, he's always written pretty intense sex scenes. But, no, the scene she finds herself reading the most, the scene she has on permanent bookmark is Pochenko's interrogation in Chapter Five, because, it lets her wonder if Castle do the same.
Sometimes, after she's read that scene (again!), she imagines how that would play out.
She imagines herself in the interrogation room and Castle alone in the observation room. She would be sitting calmly at her side of the table, trying to get information on their case while the suspect she would be questioning would dodge her queries with sleazy remarks that seem to get more sleazy as time passes.
What her imagination-self wouldn't realize, however, is that these remarks are like the counter for a time-bomb building in the next room. And, of course, like all left-on-their-own time-bombs do, it explodes.
It starts out fairly calm, actually. Curses like whispers through the soundproof glass growing into a roar. Eerily detailed threats and fists against the two-way mirror - did she just hear it crack? - That, after a minute or so, begins to pull away. A few seconds later, Ryan would poke his head in, and, over his shoulder, she would see Esposito practically dragging a loudly protesting Castle down the hall, "Uh, boss? Guy's alibi checks out."
Kate would nod, moving to slide past the other detective in the doorway, "Deal with this, would you?" she would ask through gritted teeth, stalking after Esposito and Castle.
She would find Rick in the small and currently empty break-room visibly shaking with anger. Neither of them would speak as she moves about the room, closing then locking doors and lowering blinds. Once she's sure no-one could see in, she would sit down on the couch opposite his, glancing at his clenched jaw and balled up fists.
She would have expected to be angry at him; she didn't need him defending her honor. But, the idea that he might, makes her feel... something, something warm.