Author's Note: Posted for #CastleFanficMonday.

Sorry for the delay between posts; between work and three novels in various stages of development, I lost track of my fics. But I'm back! And my second novel, BLOOD TIES, is available for pre-order on Amazon - out on January 5! Enjoy!

The abandoned warehouse was the last place Kate Beckett wanted to be, and Vikram Singh was the last person she wanted to see. But after receiving the text from him, she had to meet up with him if she hoped to put LokSat behind her once and for all. The sooner she put this case behind her, the sooner she had a chance of returning to her normal life.

At least, that was her hope. As she shut the door to her car and locked it remotely, Kate couldn't ignore the doubt gnawing at her gut, the persistent voice telling her there would be nothing waiting for her when she was done with this.

But that couldn't be right, could it? Would Richard Castle really turn her away?

If he did, could she blame him?

In the seven years they had known each other, he had shown remarkable patience and at times surprising restraint. He waited almost four years for her to realize and admit her feelings for him, even if it took him leaving and her almost dying. Was that where she was now? Was Kate so far down the rabbit hole that it now became a one-or-the-other game?

She slammed the rotted door behind her. She hated the question, but not as much as she hated the potential answer. Kate was tempted to turn back, to tell Vikram to take this investigation and shove it before groveling to her husband for forgiveness. But that wasn't her. Kate was never one to back out of an investigation before it was over – especially one as personal as this.

Every time Kate almost backed out, she remembered Rachel McCord. They weren't partners for long, but they had been friends. And as far as Kate was concerned, Rachel and the others were dead because of her.

If nothing else, she owed them.

But God, how it tore her up inside. Two days since she walked out of that loft, and Kate could still see the hurt and anger in her husband's eyes. Every time Kate closed her eyes, that vision was as clear as when it happened. She hadn't had coffee since, the taste like acid on her tongue. In a lot of ways, Kate felt the way she did back when she first met Castle: driven but empty.

And it was all her fault.

"This better be good," she said by way of greeting, deciding in the moment that her anger was better off pointed at Vikram than herself.

If her ire bothered the bearded man, he didn't let it show. "Vulcan Simmons' drug ring is still active."

Kate stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"

"Well, active again is probably more accurate." Vikram rose from his seat at a makehisft command center. Three black flatscreens surrounded him, far more advanced than anything she had at the Twelfth. "It went dormant following Simmons' murder and Bracken's arrest, but two weeks ago, heroin carrying Simmons' signature began showing up in the city again."

Kate snatched the manila folder out of Vikram's hands. "Why am I just now hearing about this?"

"Because even Narcotics didn't catch wind of it until yesterday." Vikram cocked his head to the side. "They haven't made the connection yet."

"But you have."

"I'm very good at what I do," Vikram added rather cryptically, peering at Kate through bushy eyebrows. "Now, before you rake me over the coals for abusing police resources –"

"No," Kate interrupted. "Though abusing resources is what got me in this mess in the first place."

"I have a contact with the FBI," Vikram continued as if Kate had never said anything, "who tells me they've seen the same signature in D.C. They didn't think anything of it at first, but once I contacted them and floated the name Vulcan Simmons…"

"That's good work," Kate muttered while thumbing through the folder. "You sure you're not an investigator?"

"As exhausting as it was just to get that?" Vikram shook his head.

"Don't suppose your FBI buddy gave you a name?"

"Not yet," Vikram admitted. "But he will."

"Then why drag me out of the office?" Kate shot back, dropping the folder onto the floor. "Didn't it occur to you that I might be busy? That in order to drag me from the precinct, you should have something better?"

"Better?" Vikram frowned. "What's better than knowing we're on the right track?"

"Catching the son of a bitch and ending this!" Kate yelled in return, her voice echoing off the dark walls.

The echo soon faded, leaving both Kate and Vikram standing in front of each other in an awkward silence. Kate dipped her head, strands of hair framing her face as her hands again curled into fists. She was not going to start crying again. Certainly not here, and certainly not in front of Vikram.

"Look," Vikram offered. "You can still back out."

"You don't know me," she spat through gritted teeth. "Otherwise, you wouldn't say that."

"I know this is killing you," he countered. "Even in here, I can see the circles under your eyes. You're not sleeping, are you? Probably not eating that great, either. You're still wearing your wedding ring. You took ten minutes longer to get here than yesterday."

Kate feigned annoyance. "It's New York. I got stuck in traffic."

Vikram shook his head. "You hesitated when you got my message. So again… if you want out, this is your chance. I can continue this investigation on my own, and you can return to your precinct and your husband."

Kate arched a disbelieving brow. "You? Take down LokSat? All by yourself?"

"It's not ideal," Vikram said with a shrug. "But I owe Rachel and the others that much."

"So do I," Kate argued.

Before Kate could react, Vikram grabbed her left wrist and slipped the silver band from her ring finger. No sooner did he pocket the ring, Kate slugged him across the nose with her right fist, dropping him to the concrete floor.

"Next time you call," Kate spat, "it better be to tell me you found LokSat."

Vikram was still pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking out the cobwebs as Kate stormed out of the warehouse and slammed the door shut behind her.

Outside…

Richard Castle supposed he should feel some sort of vindication, some sense of pride that his theory about Kate's behavior had been on the mark. But knowing his wife the way he did was of little consolation; at this point, whatever confusion and heartbreak Castle felt was slowly being replaced with a low-burning anger.

Every word of Kate's conversation with Vikram played in Castle's ears – thanks to the bug he had Hayley plant in the warehouse earlier that day. She was proving far more resourceful than he had expected, and the way she had gotten along with Alexis was an added benefit. Alexis was short on friends lately, and Hayley was apparently filling the bill nicely.

But his wife was up to her old tricks. She was investigating a dangerous conspiracy. Without him. She was shutting him out, choosing instead to move out of their home and cavort with a man none of them had ever heard of until three days ago.

Partners in crime and in life…

Didn't she know they were always better together? Why wouldn't she trust Castle with this?

For seven years, he had worked cases with her. Big cases, small cases. Random murders. A plot to destroy Manhattan with a dirty bomb. He helped her solve her mother's murder. He had been by her side, every step of the way, proving his worth over and over again. What he lacked in official training, he made up for in reliability and intelligence.

So what changed?

Vikram had even given her a way out, allowed her one more chance to back away and return to her life. A life that she had been building with Castle, a life they were so eager to embark on together. A family was going to be in the offing, once Kate had settled into her new role, and Castle couldn't properly articulate how excited that had made him.

But now… he didn't know what to think.

The door burst open, and Castle saw his wife rushing through the threshold and back into her car. Peering through his binoculars, Castle saw her hunch over the steering wheel, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth agape. She was sobbing, probably not for the first time that day, and even in his anger, the sight broke Castle's heart.

Every instinct screamed at Castle to emerge from his car and go to her. Pull her into his arms, let her release everything onto his shoulder. But he couldn't – not just because it would blow his cover, but because he didn't know what to think at the moment. What would he do once the tears dried? What would he say?

Once her tears began to subside, Kate massaged the knuckles of her right hand, and Castle thought he could see that her left hand no longer had his ring on it. Another flash of anger briefly overwhelmed the writer, but the sound of Kate cranking her engine and peeling off into the night snapped him back into the moment.

He watched the tail lights fade into the distance, swallowing once they disappeared. Tossing the binoculars into the passenger's seat, Castle set his jaw and stared at the warehouse.

He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Castle had an idea. Like most of his ideas, it was impulsive, not at all thought out. It was probably, in all honesty, rather stupid.

But at this point, he didn't much care.

Without a second thought, Castle shoved his phone into the glove compartment before pushing his way out of the car. He paused ever so briefly, grabbing the door handle and staring at the warehouse. Was Vikram still in there? And if he was, was he prepared in the event someone unwelcome stumbled upon his makeshift abode? The last thing Castle needed was to be held at gunpoint, but he also needed answers.

Because as clear as things were now, he was still confused.

Castle slammed the door shut, the sound masking the cocking of a gun. But Castle felt the cold press of metal against the base of his skull before he could start walking, his heart skipping a beat. Swallowing back his dread, thick in his throat, Castle rose his arms.

A bead of sweat trickled down his right temple.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," an unfamiliar female voice warned from over Castle's shoulder. He sucked in a quick breath when he felt the barrel of the gun press harder into the back of his neck.

"You gonna shoot me if I do?"

"I'm not the one you need to fear," the voice countered, before pulling open the back-seat door and stuffing Castle into it.

By the time Castle gathered his bearings, he saw a woman he didn't recognize, dressed entirely in black and smirking at the writer. Small wisps of red hair poked out of the black toboggan on top of her head. She pointed her gun at Castle through the window.

"Who are you?" Castle asked.

"The person who's gonna save your life," the woman answered before pocketing her gun and producing a pair of handcuffs from behind. She reached in and slapped the cuffs on Castle's wrists before patting his cheek with an unnerving smile.

Castle watched as the woman slipped into the driver's seat. Like a dummy, Castle had left his keys in the ignition, and he cursed himself when the engine roared to life and the car sped off into the night.

"By the way," she called out over her shoulder, "Jackson sends his best."