A/N: I honestly cannot thank you enough. Never have I had as many reviews on a piece than I have on AMS. Just today, someone recommended this story. I'm going to get personal here for a second - it is people like you, dear readers, that make me believe that I could hack it as a writer. I understand that with fanfiction, I'm borrowing other writers' characters, but writing a decent story obviously needs some talent. I may be reading into your love, but I take it you all believe I have an iota of talent and for that, I thank you.
Disclaimer: Again, I'm simply borrowing Andrew Marlowe's characters in order to survive the truly-painful hiatus he has us suffering through. Seems fair enough...
The elevator smelt like Chinese food. Kate had ordered too much at the restaurant on purpose, wanting to bring the leftovers in for the boys as a thank you present for covering for her that morning. But she had another stop to make before she could drop off the carry-out boxes and watch the wolves attack.
When the elevator stopped on the first floor after the two story ride up from the parking garage, she had to turn and place a hand on Castle's chest when he started to follow her out. "Girl talk. You bring the food up to Esposito and Ryan. I'll be up in five."
She reached back into the elevator car, pressing the button for the fourth floor, giving him a little wave when the doors closed. The hallway to the morgue was chilly, making Kate glad for the sweater and scarf.
"Lanie, I need-" She stopped short when she saw what her friend was doing. The petite woman was holding a rotating saw like something out of a horror movie, the blade hovering above the corpse's head. "Good God, Lanie!"
The whirring of the saw stopped. "Oh hey, sweetie!" She placed the saw on the metal tray suspended over the body and lifted the plastic shield she had over her face. "Missed you this morning."
"Oh really?" Kate asked, boosting herself onto one of the empty autopsy tables. "Go up to see me or Esposito?"
Lanie stripped off her gloves, tossing them into the biohazard can in the corner. "You, of course! Where were you and Writer Husband?"
"Talking. Then lunch." Her friend sat next to her, swinging her legs under the table. "Which we need to do soon."
"Talk or have lunch?"
Kate shrugged. "Both. I need a girls night. Or day. Whichever works for you."
"Well, that 'girls whatever' will have to be a dry event. I got the results of your test back this morning while you were having some morning sex." Lanie dodged the punch aimed for her shoulder, hopping down to go to her desk.
"We weren't-" she cut off, sighing heavily – she knew when to fight Lanie and now was not that moment. "So, I assume we're officially positive?"
Lanie handed over the folder, unmarked except for a little drawing of a rook chess piece on the tab where a name would go. Kate smiled at the reference, flipping the folder open to scan the results. "Thanks, Lanie, for keeping this under the radar."
"Hey, what are girlfriends for?" Lanie asked, hip-bumping Kate lightly. "Who else knows?"
"Just you and Castle. And I'd like to keep it that way for now." She tucked the folder into her bag among its twins, completely inconspicuous. "Listen, do you have tomorrow off?"
The medical examiner was pulling out a new pair of gloves from the box on the wall, prepared to get back to cutting the man's skull open. "Girl, I got any time or day off for you. What exactly are you planning for this 'girls whatever?'"
Kate's phone vibrated, a text from Castle appearing on the screen. Where are you? She ignored it. "Castle knows a spa right outside the city, Serenity. I can have him pull strings and get us in there or we can kick him out of the loft and just watch chick flicks and paint our nails and gossip."
"As much as I would love to name-drop to get into a spa, I like the idea of eating ice cream in my pajamas so much better."
When Lanie hefted the saw again, Kate moved toward the door. "Alright. I'll give you a call or something later, let you know what time the loft will be testosterone-free. Oh," Kate said, ducking her head back into the morgue, "there will be a trip to the hair salon at some point during this event. Dead ends need to go."
"Sounds like a plan, girl. And congratulations!" she called after her retreating friend.
Kate shouted back a "thank you." The elevator still smelled of fried pork and rice, a smell that would linger for the rest of the day.
Castle was holding court at her desk, he and the boys wielding chopsticks and fighting over the last dumpling.
"Isn't there something you lot should be working on?" When she was met with three sets of glares, she raised her hands in surrender. "Obviously food takes precedent. Don't let murder disturb your schedules."
"Aw, come on, Beckett! The baby's been keeping Jenny and I up until, like, three in the morning! My diet's suffering," Ryan spoke around a mouthful of noodles. He and Jenny had just welcomed Baby Number Two a month ago, little Claire joining one-year old Aiden.
"Then feel free to take your time." She dropped her bag on her chair, picking up her mug to go to the break room. The coffee in the pot was lukewarm – she poured some, then put her mug in the microwave to heat it up to an acceptable temperature. As she watched the mug revolve in the microwave, she thought about what Ryan had gone through with both Aiden and now Claire. Sleepless nights, headaches, fights with Jenny over taking days off to stay home because the babysitter couldn't make it. And that was with a detective that certainly didn't pull the same all-nighters as she did.
She jumped when someone spoke behind her. "We're going to have to wean you off caffeine." With a scowl, she took the mug out, adding milk and sugar and stirring it slowly.
"And we'll need to duct tape that mouth of yours if you can't keep quiet about the one thing I don't want public knowledge at the moment." Kate took a sip of the coffee, leaning her back against the counter.
He reached around her, brushing her arm with his fingers, pulling out one of the spare mugs and pouring himself a cup. "Remember, my safe word is 'apples.'" He smiled, that charming one that had fans at his signings swooning, then turned to head back out to the luncheon taking place in the bullpen.
Normally, after a case that lasted a week and had everyone on the team at each other's throats with exhaustion and frustration, a day without a single case would have been welcome. Ryan had ducked out early to relieve the babysitter at home with Aiden and Claire. Esposito was perfecting his game of Solitaire on the computer. Castle was plotting out a chapter on the legal pad she kept on her desk. And Kate had her head balanced on her hand, fighting to keep her eyes open.
She wanted to leave, to go home and curl up on the couch and sleep. But what type of person did that – came in late and left after two hours of sitting at their desk? She had files from her bag spread out across the desk, covering the keyboard and the mouse, her eyes blankly scanning them.
"Beckett."
Her head snapped up, along with Castle and Esposito's. Captain Gates stood in the doorway to her office, her arms crossed.
Kate hated that her voice sounded groggy. "Sir?"
"Go home. I can't have you sleeping in the bullpen." Gates turned, the office door clicking shut behind her black power-heels.
"Shit." She shoved her chair backwards, slinging her purse over her shoulder. She was halfway to the elevator by the time Castle shook himself out of staring at the door to the captain's office and jumped up to follow. He was barely able to slide between the closing doors.
"Kate, what's wrong?"
She hit the back of her head sharply against the elevator wall, then let it rest there. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong at all."
Castle stepped in front of her, lifting her head up. "Let me guess. You're exhausted. You're angry at yourself and at Gates. You feel sick to your stomach. Your whole body aches."
"You're pretty good at this," she muttered, tucking her head into his shoulder.
"Yeah, well, I've been through it before when Meredith was you-know-what," he said, earning a smirk from her for avoiding the word 'pregnant' while in the precinct.
When the elevator opened to the parking garage, she had her arm looped through his. Without a word, she handed over the keys, letting him take the driver's seat. The drive from midtown to SoHo was faster than usual due to the lack of rush hour traffic, but as Castle parked the unmarked cruiser in its spot in the garage below their building, he noticed that Kate had still managed to fall asleep.
He shouldered her purse, scooping her up in the next motion. Eduardo opened the door for him, followed him over to hit the elevator button for the correct floor.
"She's okay, Mr. Castle?"
Castle smiled, nodded to the doorman. "Fine. Just tired. Working those strange hours eventually takes its toll."
Kate shifted when Castle unlocked the apartment, wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing her nose into his chest. "Don't need to be carried."
"Of course not, Kate. Just think of it as lying down, but in my arms."
She didn't complain when he sat her on the bed, taking her shoes off and placing them in line with the rest in the closet. When he turned around, she was curled up, asleep again. Castle closed the shades, blocking out the setting sun, before going back downstairs.
A quiet apartment was never the ideal writing condition for him – he needed sound, movement, chaos in order to pull details together into an organized story. The SmartBoard was crowded with bubbles of information for the nearly-completed draft of Taking Heat. At first, he had tried to keep the series clinically separate from his feelings for Kate. He knew that adding too many of the details of their relationship would push her away. But now it was different. Once he and Beckett caught up to Rook and Heat, pieces of their relationship started leaking into the novels on their own. After Beckett was released from the hospital, Castle had found a way to write Montrose out of the books gracefully, a tribute to Montgomery's last stand. A month after Beckett agreed to move in with him, Heat suddenly decided that she preferred living in Rook's loft. Following their real-life wedding, he had Rook propose to Heat.
But this was different. Castle wasn't sure how Kate would feel about him writing in a scene in which Heat reveals that Rook may want to invest in some baby proofing locks.
Instead of puzzling through the intricacies of what he could and could not put down on page, he opened his laptop and started searching for something he hadn't looked at for almost twenty years.
"Yo, did you take the Gere file before you left?"
Esposito could practically hear Ryan roll his eyes through the phone. "Nah. I think Beckett might have taken it home last night. Check her desk."
"Will do. Give my favorite niece and nephew a kiss for me, will ya?"
"I'm sure they'd send some back to you if they weren't both sleeping. See ya tomorrow, Javi."
Esposito wheeled his chair over to Beckett's desk. The files from the afternoon were spread out across the scarred top, cases mixed together in a confusion that only she understood. Focusing on the tabs that identified cases by number and victim surname, he flipped through the chaos, searching for 'Gere.'
"Beckett, seriously, girl. You need to get a system to organize this stuff. What if something important comes up and I need to find one of your files in this… whatever, and can't and then some bad person gets away and…"
The file tab that his thumb rested on didn't have a case number or a name. In the center of the tab, someone had drawn a little rook chess piece. Curiosity won out his knowledge of Beckett's need for privacy. She did, after all, leave it out on her desk so it couldn't be that important to her.
He flipped the manila cover open, scanning the familiar medical examiner report form. Then he had to read through it again to make sure he was reading the things that were outlined in the report correctly. Hastily, he closed the file and shuffled the others around on top of it, trying to make it look like it hadn't been touched.
"Santa Madre de Dios…"
A/N: What exactly is Castle looking for on his laptop? What will Esposito do with his new-found knowledge? What will Kate and Lanie talk about while they paint their toenails in the loft? Stay tuned!
Again, I thank every single one of you doods. I've never, ever written more than a one-shot. It is because of your kind, heartfelt words that this sweet little one-shot turned into two chapters, then three, and now a fourth. And believe me, there are at least three or so chapters to go. They may not come as quickly as the first few chapters since I have a few other pieces I'm playing with, but they will be posted eventually. Because you are all so awesomesauce and I love you. Always...