Rick Castle stood tall in the elevator of the Twelfth Precinct, coffees in hand, ready to reclaim his rightful place as chief kibitzer of the Homicide Division. At the fourth floor, the doors opened and he stepped out…

...to no one's notice, at all, whatsoever. It was at that moment that he realized the script needed revising.

He went over and tapped on Kate's open door. "Special delivery," he announced.

She looked up and tried not to smile.

"Thanks, Castle," she said, taking the coffee he handed her, then sighed. "I'm going to miss coffee."

"It's decaf," he said promptly, toasting her with his own cup.

"So what brings you here, this fine morning?" Kate asked formally.

"Inquiring after your health, dear Captain. It's been 48 hours since your injury and I had to see for myself that you were back up to speed."

"Well, now you see me," she said. "And now you don't. Because I have to be at a department heads meeting in ten minutes."

"As usual, I have an ulterior motive," said Castle. "I think we should talk about how we're going to spin my return, and your, um, news."

"Spin?" Kate frowned and lowered her voice. "Who says you're returning?"

Castle was shocked. "I assumed that - in light of your condition - we'd be getting back together, publicly."

"My condition? You sound like an old country doctor, Castle. I agree that we should 'reconcile', but when, where, and how - " She sighed again. "You're right, I guess we need to talk. Not here, though."

"So, today - ?"

"Tonight," she said. "The loft. Six o'clock okay?"

"What about lunch?"

"Tonight," Kate repeated firmly. "Six o'clock." Taking hold of his lapel, she pretend-hauled him over to the open door; just before she pushed him out she leaned up and whispered, "Thanks for the decaf...Daddy."

She watched surreptitiously as Castle strolled to the elevator with a cocky grin on his face and a spring in his step. Her ogling was interrupted by her two favorite detectives, who walked into her office, shut the door, and sat on her couch.

"Fellas," she said, seating herself behind her desk. "What's up?"

"You are," said Ryan.

"He is," said Esposito, jerking a thumb in the direction of the elevator.

"He brought you coffee," Ryan added.

"And that's the I-got-lucky smirk on his face," said Esposito. "How about you? You feel lucky, Cap?"

The best defense was almost always a good offense. Kate sat back and assumed a puzzled frown. "Why the sudden interest in Castle's sex life, boys? Not getting enough at home?"

"That's not - wait a minute - " Ryan sputtered. Espo rolled his eyes.

"We know," he said succinctly.

"Know what?" Kate asked.

"About you and Castle."

"Not getting any clearer," said Kate, picking up a file and a pen. "You can go practice your interrogation methods elsewhere, now."

Ryan sighed. "We know that you and Castle are meeting up on the sly. We know that Dr. Livingston and Svetlana are cover stories. We know that you're no more separated than Jenny and I, and what we'd like to know is why."

Kate was not surprised; these guys weren't top-rated NYPD detectives for nothing. She'd known it was only a matter of time.

"Okay," she said quietly. "We're not split up. We were, for a while, but that's over. We do, however, have to maintain the front that we're separated, for reasons I can't explain. I can tell you it has nothing to do with the NYPD or you guys."

The two men exchanged glances and fist bumps.

"And that's all I'm going to tell you," she said. "Don't tell anyone else. Now, amscray."

She ignored their protests and bluster, focusing on the form in front of her, until they finally went off grumbling. Then she picked up the phone and called Lanie in the morgue.

"Hey, Lanie. Got a minute?"


A/N: Flattery will get you everywhere as far as reviews are concerned, so this is no longer destined to be a two-shot. More to come.