Thanks to Donna for the LJ rec, and thanks to everybody who's still reading. :D Hope you still like it.


"I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

"You didn't tell me either!"

"Oh, don't you even try acting like this isn't in a whole 'nother freakin' stratosphere!"

"You know what? Let's say it is. Wonder what the reason could possibly be? Maybe it's that nobody wanted to make a profit off of when you'd throw Esposito on a slab and examine him for rigor mortis...in his pants."

Two women glared at each other from opposite sides of a bare, autopsy table...

...and then burst into hysterical laughter.

Forty-eight hours after her man got outplayed by his boss/her best friend, medical examiner Lanie Parish had to start off her weekend by coming into work and medically examining the body Karpowski caught in this morning's wee hours.

She'd just finished sliding the vic back in a drawer when Detective Kate Beckett had the nerve to waltz in. But how could she stay mad? This meant she still won.

"Seriously though? Girl, I am impressed," she gave kudos when their laughter died. "Pullin' the fool over our eyes as long as you did? Javi and I could've used that kinda skill. Because I knew it! I knew that was the day you two finally just let the damn thing happen, but no matter how hard I looked for that tiny something extra, I couldn't prove it.

"How the hell did you never slip? You or Castle? Surprised he didn't fly himself around the city in the world's gaudiest-looking hot air balloon, beltin' out the news through a big-ass bullhorn."

Kate held in another laugh, though her frame shook. "I guess we just really wanted to keep us...between us." She added hesitantly, "Kinda still do."

Lanie's arms crossed over her chest. "That better not mean what it sounds like it means."

"Not forever, but, let me have this a little while longer?" Kate asked hopefully.

So that was what it was like. And already. Woo boy.

"'Bout we split those profits? Sixty-forty," was Lanie's somewhat desperate counter-offer.

"Lanie."

"You're lucky I love you." The other woman heaved a giant sigh, and then narrowed her eyes. "All right. You enjoy your cozy, secluded new life, playin' house in Richie-Rich's loft o' luuve. But I swear, if you go and get yourself hitched without me-"

"Well..."

"Kate Beckett!" Lanie exclaimed after a gasp, facing an unapologetically evil grin. "What has that man done to you?" She double-checked...no ring.

"Nothing I didn't do to him. Two nights ago. For the first time." Kate's evil grin was still in place, even as she pretended to look interested in the ceiling. "Up 'til then? I thought I knew what 'thorough' was, but..."

"Bitch," Lanie sniped with a smile that slowly wilted. "Hold it. The first...? You've spent the last month-"

"-and six days-" Kate butted in.

"-gettin' intimate with the guy whose fantasies we both know you've got dog-eared more than once, the guy you staked a claim on from just about the day you met, and you only sexed him up two nights ago?"

Lanie walked around the table, took Kate by the elbow, turned her around, and pointed at the doors. "Walk that pasty behind the hell outta my morgue. Get!"

"What? Why?"

"'Cause, something's wrong with you. And since I'm not hearing any details, I don't think anything else needs to be said." Then the smile was back. "Oh, and honey? Thanks. You two are paying for my next 'Me' day."

"Hope you spoil yourself," smirked Kate.

"Ooh, I will-nice and rotten. Don't you worry," promised Lanie, gathering the infuriating detective into a hug. "Almost forgot...congratulations on remembering how to open your eyes."

"I'm sorry, which one of us is the bitch?" Kate lightly accused.

"The press isn't gonna back down so easy, you know," Lanie sing-songed, releasing her. "You ready to smile for Page Six?"

What was with the grinning? "We're getting ready."

The good doctor grew suspicious. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll have to read the story in the paper like everyone else," Kate winked as her phone began chirping. She answered it. "Alexis? Hey, what's up? ... Yeah, I'm on my way back now. I needed a break from the mountain of paperwork on my desk, so I stopped to torture La-"

Lanie mouthed, "You. Def-in-ite-ly" as Kate's eyes widened, still listening to Alexis on the other end.

"You are? When did you...? ... You're hiding where?"

Kate gave a quick wave and mouthed, "Bye" on her way out.

"And the congregation says amen to that," Lanie announced to no one a second later, shaking her head.


"Lex? You in here?"

"Kate?" Alexis unlocked the handicap, bathroom stall she'd hunkered down inside, and flew out. "Oh my god. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! Is he still out there?"

The detective took her by the shoulders. "Who?"

"Detective Esposito," she whispered nervously.

"I think I saw him in the..." Kate trailed off, finally connecting at least two of the dots. "You're hiding from Esposito? Why?"

"Because Dad's apparently 'in the Walden zone' today and can't stop writing, and since Ashley's in the Poconos this weekend visiting his grandparents, I wanted to see if you had time to go to lunch or something," said the breathless redhead.

"Then when I got here, Detective Esposito handed me this," she pulled a small, flash drive from her pocket and gave it over like it burned, "and asked me to make sure it found its way into Dad's stuff. He, um, also offered me twenty dollars to make sure you wouldn't know where it came from."

Her eyes darted around, paranoid. It was supposed to be so simple. Come to the precinct, take Kate to lunch, thank her for the millionth time for saving her relationship (the, "when I say I love you, I wanna know it isn't high school love" argument was brilliantly reasoned), and make fun of her dad. Affectionately.

But...but...

Kate's jaw tightened. "Did he?" Her mouth fell open as she figured out what must've been on the drive. "That son of a..." Beat. "You take his money?"

"Um, yes?" Alexis confessed guiltily, staring at her feet.

"Good," approved Kate, and the girl's head snapped up. "Though I would've held out for more."

Alexis wasn't unburdened, however. "But now he thinks I left, because you weren't here and I told him I gonna do it. Even though I swear I never was."

Kate was quizzical. "So instead of leaving you decided to hide out in our bathroom?"

"I panicked! I couldn't go back home with it, because I suck at lying to my dad; he so would've known something was up the second he looked at me," Alexis explained in a rush. "They said you were at the morgue, and I was gonna go there, but, I usually like having an appetite at lunchtime."

Kate smiled. "Can't argue with that. Okay, come on." She moved to the door, Alexis cautiously following. "When I give the signal, run for the stairs. Don't trust the elevator-especially on a Saturday. I'll meet you in the garage in a few minutes, and then we'll go. Food suddenly sounds like a terrific idea; I forgot to eat when I was out. I'm starving."

"Isn't your lunch break over? I thought you had to work."

"Not had to exactly...I thought since we were in between cases, I'd try to be proactive, maybe turn my mountain into a...slightly smaller mountain. And because I'm..." The devil in Kate happily flashed back to her conversation with Lanie. "...mean, I made the guys come in, too.

"But I haven't done anything today. Except drive an M.E. crazy, and play an unhealthy amount of 'Angry Birds'...which is all your father's fault, because he's the one who put it on my phone to begin with."

She frowned-that was letting him off easy. "No, wait. It's his fault for not only making the whole idea of procrastination seem pretty damn appealing, but for making it seem like a legitimate alternative. There, that's better," she nodded decisively.

For the first time, Alexis smiled. "Kind of ironic that he's being such a workaholic today then, huh?"

"It's real easy to forget you're a 'Castle' sometimes, y'know that?"


"There you are," Martha Rodgers said to her busy son back at the loft, gliding into his office. "My, you're still at it? That woman truly is your muse, isn't she?"

"And has been for a while now." Rick's gaze left the laptop screen to meet his parent's. "Is everything okay, Mother? Not skipping your Ginkgo supplements again, are you?"

"I'm sure I don't remember," she answered drolly, helping herself to the seat in front of his desk.

"Nice," he had to compliment her. "Nice." Then he conceded, "I suppose inspiration has been striking more often recently."

"You haven't been this prolific in ten years," she bluntly pronounced.

He closed his eyes. Rick thought he'd be used to this by now. "There it is." He opened his eyes back up, and put on a smile. "The ability I've been in awe of my entire life-rolling a compliment and an insult all into a single, quietly deceiving sentence."

"It's simply a fact, darling," she downplayed. "And I'm thrilled for you, I really am...even if the greatest writing, the most memorable, timeless writing, never comes when its author is content."

"Still in awe. Though you do lose points for not being as concise with that one. Too wordy."

He started typing again.

"So, where has Alexis run off to? Out with friends?" His mother asked before he'd finished the next word.

"Close-out with Beckett. She was going to try to take her to lunch." His smile reached his eyes. "Considering how every text I've gotten today has been some variation on how bored out of her mind our favorite detective is, I told Alexis she probably had the right idea."

"And you aren't there with them, monitoring every word?"

"Why would I need to? They've spent time together without me before. Besides, Kate's the one woman I want influencing my daughter."

Oough. He ducked behind his laptop, not daring to look at Martha's face. Landmine, landmine, landmine...

"And, you, of course." He coughed, not selling it terribly well.

He risked a peek. Martha looked disappointed...

"I've never been more glad that I didn't push you to pursue the Craft."

...that he couldn't act his way out of a paper bag.

Rick straightened up again. "Again, I hafta ask, are you sure you aren't skipping those supplements? Because there's 'selective memory,' and then there's 'Martha Memory.'"

"Suggesting once, in passing, that your Peter Pan would have been a revelation had you bothered to audition instead of choosing to spend the afternoon swallowing woodchips-"

"They shouldn't call them chips! It's misleading!" He pleaded his case. "I wasn't the only kid whose innocence died a little that day."

"Rather than endure any more examples of my supposed, early and utterly traumatic support for your inner-artist," He was prepared to recite them, she knew, "let's gracefully leave this tangent behind, shall we?"

"...Agreed," he mumbled like the small, woodchip-consuming child he once was.

"Wonderful. Now, it isn't that I thought you'd be concerned for Alexis' welfare. Personally, it's a relief to know she'll have a woman like Kate Beckett to turn to, when I've taken that final bow." She waved off whatever reply he had, especially since it looked like it wasn't going to be funny. "I thought you'd be more concerned about which embarrassing stories she may decide to remember. Given the...growth of your partnership, new as it is."

"Stories like the 'woodchips incident,' you mean?" He questioned her rhetorically, lowering the laptop's lid. "Kate's going to hear all my secrets eventually. I'm not hiding anything; don't wanna. Not from her. No matter how embarrassing."

She wagged her finger at him, pride settling over her features. "That, right there? Is why I haven't poked my photogenic schnoz in until now, and why I won't be making it a habit. Keep that attitude, kiddo, because it's a rare thing in life, finding someone you don't feel you've gotta...act for. All the world's a stage, but the two of you are more than merely players."

Did his mother honestly just do that? "The Bard might not be turning over in his grave, but I'll bet it's under consideration."

"Well it's true."

"I know," he agreed again, more readily.

"Then you better hang onto one another as long as you can," she advised him strongly. "Love her, let her love you...and never be afraid to step down offstage and reveal the man beyond the dust-jacket."

She smiled sadly, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "If you learn anything from me or my cowardice, learn from that mistake."

Man. He'd thought she'd finally dealt with Chet's death. "Mother, I'm-"

For the second time, she waved him off. "The spotlight's all yours today." She stood, coming around the desk to sincerely say, "I meant it, Richard. I am thrilled for you. Thrilled and relieved. Ya done good." She patted his shoulder and ruffled his hair.

"Thanks, Mom," he smiled, grateful for her approval even now. "Ah-ah-ah! Peeking is forbidden; I'll revoke your plastic privileges."

Martha had just tried to lift the lid without permission. That wouldn't do.

"Oh no," she shook her head. "The last time you wouldn't let me see what you were writing, it wound up published in Penthouse Forum under a ridiculous, obvious pseudonym."

"Never tell me why, or how, you knew about that." He just experienced a bad case of acid reflux. "You can relax. This isn't destined for the hallowed pages of Penthouse."

"What is it then? More Nikki Heat?"

"Just...something we're working on. To help us get ready."

As she started badgering him with questions, the devil in Richard Castle was what brought the grin to his face.


"HiDadbyeDad!" Alexis called as she raced upstairs several hours later, phone pressed to her ear.

"Ashley?" Castle asked Kate as she closed the door to the loft behind her.

"You are clever," she snarked. "He called her on the way here."

"Hey," she greeted softly as she made it to where he sat on the sofa, and actually saw him.

"Hey," he returned, setting his laptop aside.

Kate leaned down to meet his lips. As with every other time they'd done this, they experienced a moment of disbelief, because she was Beckett, he was Castle and how was it this easy? Then they got to the next moment where they were glad they let it be.

In tandem, "Missed me, didn'tcha?"

Kate made a face. "If we weren't us, I'd think we were kinda creepy."

"Could be worse. At least we're not kooky," he said. "Or mysterious and spooky. And all together..."

Castle double-snapped his fingers; she rolled her eyes.

Her head collapsed tiredly onto his. "God it's been a long day...and it isn't even three o'clock." And she didn't do anything.

"Sit. Write with me."

Even if it wasn't a future, best-selling novel, she still loved hearing those words. For him to invite her in on what was such a private, personal thing...she wouldn't lie, she was...touched. Plus, long before she knew him, before she imagined being with him, she imagined what it'd be like getting to write with him.

She slipped her heels off, flopped on the sofa beside him, and eagerly asked, "How's it going?"

He looked like a proud, mad scientist. "Gotta love it when a plan comes together."

Kate rested her hand on her thigh, feeling her full pocket. She'd put the flash drive in there.

...

...

...

Okay. If he could share personal and private things, so could she. No matter how embarrassing.

"Um, before we...dive in..." She smiled at her unintentional callback.

"Was Alexis really that exhausting?"

"Not half as much as you are." She flicked his forehead. "No, we had a good time; we always do. There's just, something I wanna show you first."

He covered his skin to protect against repeated attacks. "Show me? Show me what?"

"Some...pictures. That I was in. A long time ago." She laid out that first breadcrumb, and watched his brain crash and reboot.

He swallowed. "What...kind of pictures?"

"The kind that, after you've seen them," she fished out the drive, and his eyes were glued to it, "we're adding to the list."

"Of things we're never talking about again?"

"Bingo. Now give me the," he was obliging her request before she completed it, "laptop."

Kate wouldn't hide, and Esposito wouldn't get his revenge.

While she plugged in the drive, he posed, "What's your stance on woodchips? Pro, con?"


That evening, Esposito would have two texts waiting.

One from Castle:

~OMG! Guys! You'll never guess what KB just showed me!~

And one from Ryan:

~Be a beautiful funeral, dude. Promise ;)~

Reading them, he would decide to call in sick Monday.