A/N: Thank you all once again for the reviews, the faves and the follows. I get a kick out of every single one. The Christmas break, however, seems to have ended, so I don't know that my next updates will be so speedy, but with any luck I'll get more up soon.

"You have a nice thing going on here, Castle. Trust me, you do not want me fucking up your perfect playboy life."

Rick grabs her wrist again, looks at her with piercing eyes. His voice is almost a whisper in her ear as he leans in to fill her glass of wine. "Well, Beckett. How about you let me decide on that. You let me decide."

It's gotten late, Rick realises. Kate looks exhausted. "Kate. Let me call you a cab."

"A cab?"

"A cab. I'd drive you home, but I can't leave Alexis."

"So you don't want me to stay here, then?" Is that indignation in her voice? Has she taken offense? Or is she just hurt? He doesn't know. "You don't want… ?" Mostly, he thinks she sounds confused.

He sighs. "I want. Oh, I want. But I don't just want that."

"Then why did you give me your number?" Yes, that has to be confusion in her voice.

"Kate. I was on a date with someone else the night I gave you my number." He's exasperated, explaining this to her. "If I had just wanted sex, that wouldn't have been the most efficient way to get it." Not that Gina knows he gave Kate his number, but they hadn't exactly ended the evening on good terms, and he most certainly went home alone.

"So tell me, Castle. Why did you give me your number?"

"Only way I could be sure of seeing you again. Or, hope to see you again." He leans in, can't stop himself, breathes in her ear. "You're very… interesting, you know. Why don't you tell me, what was a nice girl like you doing alone in that restaurant in the first place?" He dares to make it a line, wants her to know that he wants her- "Do you go there a lot?"

She jerks back, disentangles her fingers from where they've become intertwined with his. And the bitterness in her voice hits him hard in the gut, as she hisses. "I go there a lot." She shakes her head, looks like she's close to tears. "You have no idea." Before he can stop her, she's off his couch and out of his front door and in the elevator. And gone. And he sinks back down on to the couch, his head in his hands, thinking, Rick, what have you gotten yourself into?

Her phones buzzes when she's in the cab and she instinctively turns it over, opens the message. From Castle, of course, and she smiles when she reads it, for all its absurdity- I had a great night. Good night, Officer. It doesn't make any sense, he should be blocking her number after her performance tonight, but it makes her laugh and she has the sense that all (what's all, she wonders) is not lost.

One of the first things Beckett does when she gets into work is run a background on Castle. She doesn't really expect to find anything, but what's there has her widening her eyes in bewilderment. What in the what now? She got in at six this morning, after just a few hours sleep- she's worked out in the precinct gym, showered, made coffee- it's instant but she's not in a position to complain, gratefully gulping down the caffeine- and she feels better than if she had slept eight hours. Which is weird. She's no stranger to existing- thriving- on no sleep, but after a night fighting back tears and laughter and Richard Castle, she thinks she should be exhausted. But she feels better than she has in a long time, and when Jones get the call about a body at eight, she's up and ready to go before he can finish beckoning her over.

Jones chats to Beckett in the car on the way to the scene, updates her on the scene they'll be attending. "Restaurant owner was found shot dead this morning, by one of his employees. We've got uniforms-" His eyes fall on her, and he chuckles- "other uniforms canvassing for a weapon." It's nice, he's mentoring her, she can tell, and there's an openness to him, something comforting that was missing from Royce, her training officer. She hasn't thought of Royce in months, still misses him, but the bite is gone, the ache is nothing but a dull hollow in her chest. "So, you're aiming for detective, Beckett?" Jones' question is everything that Rick's wasn't last night. It's safe, and professional, and she hasn't kept her ambition a secret around the precinct.

Kate thinks her colleagues respect her, although she's not sure they all like her. She's pretty sure the uniforms canvassing the scene aren't her biggest fans at the moment. But she can't bring herself to be sorry that Jones is making time for her, that the Captain is grooming her. She wants in. "I am. I'm thinking at the end of this year." She steals a glance at him. Is the end of this year too soon? Is she being arrogant, to think she can be promoted so soon?

But Jones just nods. "Excellent. Excellent."

They arrive, and check out the crime scene. The employee who found the victim is hysterical, but they begin to get some background on motive, perhaps some healthy business competition gone wrong. Meanwhile, the victim's wife arrives, and Kate sits with her as she stares with unseeing eyes at the wall. She hates this part, too. She hates it all, but she wants in.

The M.E. gestures her over, and she excuses herself. "What do you have for us?"

"Two things, Officer. One, you can tell your detectives that this bruising-" she indicates the victim's ribcage- "is postmortem. Meaning whoever shot him was mad, mad enough to kick him when he'd already gone down."

Beckett nodded. "A bit personal. Doesn't exactly scream business feud, does it?"

"No, it does not," the M.E. agreed.

"What was the second thing?"

"Drinks. Tonight. A bunch of us are getting together." Lanie looks Kate up and down. "And you need to hang out with a few people your own age for a change. I've been watching you Officer, and Kate? You need to come out with us."

It's the kind of thing Kate would usually decline- especially since she's on a homicide and doesn't picture herself leaving the precinct at any kind of reasonable hour. But she's kind of buzzed- which is ridiculous, she tells herself- and she finds herself smiling, and agreeing to meet Lanie at eight.

In the cruiser back to the precinct Beckett falls into easy conversation with Jones, and they hypothesize about the bruising. He puts a call through to get the wife to come in as a priority, although Beckett tells him honestly that her instincts say the wife isn't involved. Jones nods and doesn't dismiss her opinion the way other detectives might, just tells her they'll work all angles.

As they both fall silent, Kate pulls her phone out of her pocket. No calls, no messages, but she's not too worried. After all, he texted her last night after she messed it all up, so she contemplates that it might not be all over. And if it's over, it's over- she's got a homicide to work on, and drinks tonight- so there's nothing to lose, so before she can stop herself, she texts Castle.

Rick has checked his phone a dozen times in the last hour. In case he didn't hear the message. Which would have beeped from his desk. In front of him. He sighs. He's got it bad. Kate didn't replied to his text last night, and he's smart enough to have not texted again. This morning he'd gotten up to get Alexis off to school- she'd had lots of questions about Kate being there, the case he'd helped with, and he'd tried to be honest with her as he packed her lunch and walked out the door with her. He'd always shielded her from his girlfriends, but somehow he hadn't minded Kate being there last night, unexpected though it was.

He logs on to his laptop around ten. To write. He knows he'll just end up writing another death scene for Derrick, but he has to write something, and the phone calls from Gina are killing him. He's been avoiding checking his email over the last few days, as well. The thing is, Derrick's a little too rough justice these days. He needs a character with more integrity. Someone sexy, fun, but with a dark past, a passion for true justice. Hmm, he thinks. The description in his head is calling up images of Kate, and he's suddenly all the more eager to connect with her again. And this time really find her story.

There's an email from Meredith, wanting to know whether he's staying with her in L.A. It kind of figures he shouldn't stay with his ex-wife. That's stupid, right? Sometimes he hates the woman, but they are great together, and he tends to be helpless and stupid when he's in her presence. Is it better, for Alexis to stay with her Mom? Maybe it will confuse Alexis, if she sees her parents together. He wavers for a while, before replying that they'll stay with her, but he doesn't press send, just leaves it in his drafts folder.

Castle's phone beeps, and he jumps. Just as he'd stopped listening for it. He chuckles. Apparently a watched phone never rings. He opens the message, can only laugh when he sees what Kate wrote. Just a short text. Really, Castle? A police horse? And nude?!

He thinks he might be a little bit in love.