Having nothing better to do, I wrote a little bit more. I must apologize for the rookie grammar/spelling mistakes in Chapter one, and have read through this one time more to scan for stupid mistakes.

Chapter 2 :: What It Do Baby Boo?

I never intended it to be anything like this…

It was the one thought on top, on top of all the others, the "I should have made my move sooner"s, the "Struck out again, Beckett…pretty sad, for someone your age…" and "What's the point of playing this cat-and-mouse game if the mouse is such a backstabbing whore of a jackass?" It was the gist of what was tracing through her mind, each thought taking its sweet time in cutting out a piece of the walls that so surrounded her wounded heart. It's to no fault but my own…

And then there was the knife. She shouldn't have done it, but she'd had to release her frustration and pain onto something…even if may have been the teensy most illegal. Beckett now held consciousness that it was a stupid move, and could royally mess up her job as well as Lanie's, but who could blame her?

The law, for starters.

"I'm so fucked." Damn you, Richard Castle. How could she have been so naïve? Letting herself, her believe that any man- let alone Castle –cared, truly, for her, the parts of her no man could see even on the special occasion when she wore a bikini. She couldn't help but sniffle a smile, thinking of Castle's pitiful attempts to goad her into visiting the Hamptons with him. But that sort of trip, so long, with such a friend…she'd have to be a total imbecile to believe for a nanosecond that it would be anything less than a vacation between "good friends".

That was the point, she supposed. He knew that she would know what accepting such an offer would mean. Some of the truth would have to be spilt. It was Castle's closer, his last, desperate plea for her to do what he wasn't big enough to do- she knew that now. Which, essentially, was of no help, whatsoever.

That was why she'd stabbed the fresh cadaver. And now that she averted her vision back to reality instead of dragging along Memory Lane s'more, she realized she'd stabbed something else- her thigh. Less than accidentally. Oops.

Lanie felt for her girl, always had. It was why she felt nearly as heartbroken as Beckett had to, why she had cried when he walked away, too. When he'd taken even, unfaltering steps towards Lawd-only-knew-what-'cause-she-sure-as-hell-didn't-want-to, like it was no sin greater than a white lie. Like his heart wasn't racing, contemplating turning around and sweeping his very fine detective-cop-friend off her feet- ohh, sister Lanie knew. Richard Castle wasn't the just boyish comedic muffinhead he pretended to be. But apparently, he wasn't the soft, lovingly strong man she'd taken him for, either.

Yes, burn. Burn all the way to hell and don't you touch my baby ever again or I'll touch you back.

As she neither rushed nor delayed her path to her "office", Lanie couldn't help but zoom into the cracks of the Armageddon scene that had unbelievably played before her conscious eyes. Kate Beckett, of all people, did not deserve this. An ungrateful man, a childish celebrity baller, that wasn't someone who could give the girl what she deserved, finally. But that was who Castle was choosing to be. If that was who he had decided to be, au revoir, Mister Pimp.

The choice to hate on the man wasn't uneducated, or under false pretenses either. She'd seen the devastation created as Kate sleeplessly sought after her mother's killer, had felt the pain of losing a human's natural openness to others along with her, and had, consequently, fallen in love with her (alongside her, no homo kthx) as she fell for Castle. In fact, Castle knew of Kate's pain because she'd told him- part in trust, and part in hopes that he would shut up about her past. And there he went…taking that bond, and snipping it straight through. Of course, Lanie wouldn't have to be feeling this pain if she were Kate, because she would have grabbed that man out of Gina's plastically-enhanced arms, slammed him into a wall, roguishly handcuffed him, and given him the best breath of life he'd ever know before throwing him back at the feet of his ex and promptly whiplashing him as she walked away.

"Have I mentioned what an ass that man is? Ooh, the things I could do to him with my bare hands alone-" Lanie drew in a quick breath of air as she reentered her morgue.

"…The things I could do to you with my bare hands alone. Girl, what in the mother are you doing, exactly?" Castle-bashing aside, she preened her eyes from her newly-punctured cadaver to Beckett, who looked pale and…well, let's just be nice here and say she looked a mess.

"Lanie, I was sick with contempt and out of control and I couldn't-" she cut off, tear ducts still plenty active. Her words caught in her throat and her vocal cords, though working, made no such sound. Suddenly dizzy with remorse, Beckett clutched her head and sunk to the raw tiled floor, bony knees clanking together once before settling upon each other. She closed her eyes, wishing it all to go away.

"…I," Lanie opened her mouth with the intention of speaking, of scolding, making light of this obviously great situation, but found empathy leading her to her friend, instead. She knelt beside Kate, brushing her bangs away from her tear-stained cheeks. Her eye makeup was beginning to run, but nothing could be done about that just now. "Hun, hun look at me. Come on. You have to put this past you and accept what's happened. Stand up and walk out of here proud. Would you really want to be with a man with that in him? You're better off, better loved. Go home. Take a bubble bath. Eat some chocolate, watch a movie, make a voodoo doll and send the wrath of Hates after him, but do it smiling. I'd gladly accompany you." She smiled down at her friend, who didn't resemble any part of Kate Beckett she'd met thus far in their relationship. New territory certainly didn't help any.

Kate had been nodding, impetuously opening and closing her eyes for different lengths of time, gaining her bearings and wit about her. Her stiffly locked arms had slowly fallen against her knees, elbows settling a few inches into open air to let her fingers grasp its opposite wrist. Lanie always knew best, somehow, always knew what to say and how to say it just right. If only she'd had that superpower, not half an hour ago, she might be…

"You're right…and I knew it all along…I just, I didn't want to believe that the things I was seeing and the words I was hearing weren't only for me. They weren't Castle-originals. He's a novelist, Lanie, a master with words and I knew that! But I let him wind me up…let him lead me out of my comfort zone like one of his puppets." She left her mouth open just a bit, stumped.

"Please, stop being such a raving fan girl and get up off that booty of yours." Lanie stood and offered both hands down to Beckett. The distressed took only one of the friendly pathologist's hands, using her other to shift her weight off her bandaged, hidden wound. Painstakingly, and avoiding Lanie's curious look, she managed to stand, suppressing a wince for Lanie's sake. She couldn't know what had happened.

"Now about the fresh stab wound in my dead body…" Lanie cocked her head to the side with a disappointed smile. She saw Beckett's flush face dishearten, and willing to do anything to keep her spirits on the lighter side of catastrophically depressed, added, "I'll take care of it."

"You don't have to do that-" Beckett argued but Lanie interrupted her, "Shut up and go home, detective. The world will not take a day off from murdering for any but God, and those inferior include the goddess of this precinct. "Lanie, I…" Beckett was still protesting.

"Will go home and stay there for a day or two. Come on now." Lanie quickly pushed the tray back into the vaultish space, turning the large metal lock on the square door. "I am so sorry for all of this," she whispered to number one twenty-six.

Grabbing a tissue, she dabbed at Kate's eyes, giving the girl something to take pride in while her confidence took one for the team. It was little more than mere instinct to take her arm and escort her from the morgue, setting her head against Kate's shoulder, and squeezing her arm. "It's over now, he can't do nothing more." Beckett frowned. He could, and he was. He was probably shacked up with Gina by now, and that brought a new wave of spite and hurt to displeasure.

"At least we know one thing." Anything to keep her mind off of the two, in bed, even if it included talking about him…

"What would that be?" Lanie walked them both up the stairs and into the main lobby of the precinct.

"I'm definitely not anything near Nikki Heat's league." Her leg was absolutely killing her.

"Oh, really?"

"Uh, yes?"

"And what do you think Nikki Heat would have done?" They were almost out of the place both women could call a second home, whether to help or to hurt remained a mystery…

"She would have stabbed him with her heel and said something perfectly treacherous."

"Hah, I can arrange that date, honey."

"Fall alone will be too soon." A serious tone edged into the playful conversation.

"Next summer?" Though she doubted he would be around that long, Beckett replied sourly,

"I'd better custom-order some new heels."

Meanwhile, the Hamptons await…

END CHAPTER

I extremely wish I had a best friend who knew Castle well enough to read and critique me before I post new anythings, or discuss with me the other way I debated about going for this chapter. Instead, I'm going alone at this, and as usual, am unhappy with the way this went myself. However, if anyone would like to put me in my place, kindly tap the "review" button and hack away, my friend.

[Lily Mc