At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.
-Plato


Kate tried to keep her expression neutral as she walked into Roy Montgomery's sitting room that afternoon. She was bracing herself, trying not to let her nervousness show, but it turned out to be unnecessary; the moment was anticlimactic. Roy greeted her with a reserved smile and a quiet "Hi, Kate. Come on in," just like always. The main difference was that he didn't stand up to usher her in.

The piano bench had been pushed aside, and Roy was sitting on a dining-room chair in front of the piano, which gave him some back support and armrests. His hands rested lightly on the keyboard, but his head and upper body were turned toward the door, anticipating her entrance.

Evelyn had opened the front door of their home to Kate, welcoming her in with a brief hug and a whispered warning that Roy was "a terrible patient." Having shown Kate to the sitting room, Roy's wife quietly withdrew, leaving them alone.

"Don't look so grim," Roy scolded lightly, motioning with his head to indicate that Kate should come closer. She moved into the room and sat on the piano bench beside Roy's chair, flashing him a smile that felt artificial despite the real feeling behind it.

"It's good to see you," she said, and meant it. "You look good."

He did, in fact, look much better than she had feared. Tired, to be sure - his face was lined with weariness, and his dark skin had a grayish tint to it - but his eyes were lively as always.

"Thank you. I'm fine," he said, his forehead creasing slightly with the beginnings of irritation. He clearly didn't want to talk about his physical condition, and Kate knew that he wouldn't respond well to overblown expressions of concern - I was so worried and I'm so glad you're okay were phrases that ran through her mind, but she bit them back, knowing that they'd only increase Roy's annoyance. He wasn't the type to appreciate being fussed over.

So all she said was "Okay," which was rewarded by a nod.

"You've been studying the score?" Roy asked, his eyes going to the Carmina Burana score that poked out from the top of Kate's shoulder bag. She pulled it out, nodding.

"Of course."

"Panicking?" he added, his keen gaze piercing her. "Having second thoughts?"

Kate fought back the urge to deny it. Roy was too smart for that, damn him. "It's a bit daunting," she admitted.

"Sure it is. It's ridiculous," Roy said easily. "Let's get you warmed up, and then we're going to start with Stetit puella."

"Oh," Kate said, a little surprised. "Not Dulcissime?"

"Think that's the hardest one, do you?" he asked in his dry way. Kate paused again, recognizing it for a trick question.

"I'm not sure," she hedged. Roy chuckled softly.

"The opening leap is tricky, but it's mostly the high register. If it started off with a low D to E leap, and then that same melody down a fifth, you'd think nothing of it." He waited until Kate nodded thoughtfully, and went on, "But Stetit puella is deceptive. It seems simple, but I tell you right now, you're going to rush the triplets, and you're going to find those fifth leaps tricky - maybe even more so than the ninth."

"I am worried about the triplets," Kate agreed. "Among other things. Like the really long held note in Amor volat undique."

"Of course. Of course," Roy nodded. "There's certainly a lot to work on. So let's get started."

Kate put down her score and purse, and stood up to begin her breathing exercises.


"Mr. Castle, you're here awfully early," said the house manager in surprise when Castle entered the theater. "Something wrong?"

"Nope. Oh, but hey, can you make sure that my private box is ready for the evening show?" Castle clapped the man on the shoulder. "I won't need it for the matinee, but Kate Beckett will be sitting there tonight."

"Of course, sir."

"Thanks."

Leaving the lobby, he pushed through the rear door into the backstage area. It was still quiet at the moment, a little too early yet for the true pre-performance chaos to begin. A few people were around, though, and in an open room at the back he found a group of dancers sitting around and chatting, some of them doing their preliminary stretches on the floor.

They all started to rise when Castle entered, but he waved them back down, shaking his head. "Don't mind me, everyone," he said, flashing his friendliest smile. "I just wanted to check in and say hi." He found an empty chair and sat down, casually crossing his legs. "I haven't been around much lately, kinda lost track of who's in the show these days. So I just thought I'd come around and introduce myself." He leaned forward, holding out his hand toward a dancer he didn't recognize. "Hi. I'm Rick."

The dancers - most of them female - giggled, and the one he had spoken to shook his hand, smiling bashfully. "I'm Shari," she said softly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Castle."

"My pleasure, Shari. But I told you, the name's Rick." Smiling, he looked around at the other faces, only a few of which were familiar. "Who else haven't I met?"

Within a few minutes he had put them all at ease, each dancer taking a turn to tell Castle their name and a little bit about themselves. When he sensed that they were relaxing, the space no longer humming with low-level tension at his presence, he made his move.

"So," he said nonchalantly, letting a bit of mischief sparkle in his eyes, "is there any good gossip around here? Any juicy scandals going on behind the scenes that I should know about?" While the dancers were glancing around at each other, tentative, no one wanting to be the first to speak, he held up a hand as if in warning. "I should tell you right up front, I already know about Madison and the lighting tech. Who didn't see that coming, right?"

A nervous laugh went around the room, but heads were nodding. "They weren't subtle at all," one person said, drawing more nods of agreement.

"They aren't as bad as Carla and Mickey," another voice added, and there were groans all around.

"Thank god that's over," someone snarked.

"Oh my god, remember that time they-?"

"Oh yeah!" several dancers exclaimed, shaking their heads in dismay.

Castle looked around, his expression bright and curious. "What happened?"

The floodgates opened, and he heard all about various backstages romances and breakups; a stagehands' poker game that had turned nasty; singers' furious arguments in the wings about who had deliberately upstaged whom; and so forth. The stories poured forth easily, but none of them involved Greg.

Castle spent a few more minutes probing, carefully not mentioning any names, but trying to steer the conversation toward the principal performers in the show. But, try as he might, he couldn't elicit anything about Greg. There were mini-scandals and dramas aplenty, but nothing that seemed relevant.

At last, with a reluctant sigh that wasn't at all feigned - he really was enjoying the gossip, even though it wasn't useful - he heaved himself to his feet. "Well, it's been a true pleasure chatting with you all," he said, spreading his smile around the whole group. "Thank you for indulging me. And thanks for being part of this show."

They all clamored their thanks in response, and he shook most of their hands before wandering out.

Backstage was beginning to fill up a bit more, crew members and instrumentalists arriving to begin the work of getting the show ready. Castle tried to stay to the side, out of the way, as he wandered farther back into the depths of the theater.

In another little room to one side, he found a group of chorus members, and began the process again. Armed with the stories the dancers had told, he had no trouble getting a second gossip session started. The singers repeated most of the stories he'd heard, and added a few more; but as before, no one seemed to have anything scandalous to say about Greg.

Castle knew that in some senses this was progress - eliminating avenues of investigation - but it was frustrating nonetheless.

Before he knew it, the singers were being called to get their costumes on and their hair and makeup done, so Castle took his leave, shaking their hands and cheerfully thanking them for indulging him. Everyone was all smiles as he left them to their business and made his way to his dressing room.


"Good. That was much better that time," Roy said. "But your tempo is dragging a bit in the middle. Let's take it a little faster."

"Roy," said Evelyn from the doorway, startling Kate and Roy out of their complete immersion in the music. "It's time to call it a day."

"Oh," Kate said, looking at her watch, amazed at how the time had flown by. "I'm so sorry. I lost track of time."

Roy scowled, a retort clearly forming on his lips - probably something about how he didn't need to be coddled - but Evelyn headed him off smoothly. "Don't worry about it," she said, giving Kate a reassuring nod. "You're only a little bit over. I'll give you a few more minutes to wrap up." And she withdrew, leaving Roy shaking his head with a rueful smile.

"That woman," he muttered, not quite a complaint. Kate pressed her lips together, holding back her amusement.

"It's nice of her to put up with you," she said blandly, earning a glare. But it only lasted a moment, and then Roy relented, sighing, reaching out to close the Carmina Burana score on his piano's music stand.

"Good progress today," he said, turning in his chair to look up at Kate. "You'll be fine for the first rehearsal. We can meet again on Tuesday as usual."

If you're up to it, Kate thought, but didn't say. Instead she made a mental note to call Evelyn on Tuesday morning and see how things were going.

"Sounds good," was all she said, as she gathered up her score and water bottle, packing them away into her purse.

She chewed on her lower lip as she was getting her things together. She still hadn't fully decided, but Roy seemed pretty relaxed and calm right now, so...

"Hey, what was that phone call about the other day?" she asked, keeping her tone light and casual. She flicked her gaze over to Roy's face and then back to her purse, forcing her body language to remain loose.

But Roy's expression had closed down in the brief glimpse she got, and she wasn't surprised when he said only, "Oh, that was nothing. Don't worry about it."

Kate tried not to frown. She was pretty sure it wasn't nothing, but pushing him on it didn't seem like the right thing, not when he had just gotten out of the hospital. She bit her lip again and decided, reluctantly, to let it slide. If it were important, she supposed, Roy would bring it up again eventually.

"Okay. See you Tuesday," she said, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

"Break a leg at that rehearsal," he replied, giving her an approving nod. She thanked him, gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, and left.


The matinee performance went off without a hitch. Somewhat to his surprise, Castle was finding himself enjoying this short foray back into the world of Derrick Storm. The music felt fresh after having been away from it for so long.

After the show, he did his usual rounds through the crowded lobby, shaking hands and smiling, chatting with the fans. Most of the cast and crew had cleared out quickly, eager to squeeze in a meal and a bit of down-time before the evening performance. The matinee audience themselves were less inclined to stick around, most of them ready to move on to their Saturday-night plans, so the crowd soon thinned out.

Just as Castle was saying goodbye to the last group of fans, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and found a text from Kate.

Got a table at Don Antonio. Come and find me.

A grin spread across his face. He could just hear Kate saying those words in that teasing tone he loved so much.

On my way, he texted back, and quickly headed for his dressing room to change.

"So, pizza, huh?" he said a few minutes later, when he found Kate squeezed into a chair at a tiny table in the popular restaurant. She rose to greet him with a quick kiss before they both shoehorned themselves into the chairs again.

"Yeah," she said, "I was in the mood. How was the show?"

"Great," he answered. "How was your lesson? How's Roy doing?" As he spoke, he reached across the small table to take her hand. He couldn't help it - the urge to touch was always strong when he was around Kate.

"It was fine," she said, a small crease forming on her forehead. "Roy is... well, he looked better than I expected, actually. Tired, of course, but he seems okay. We got through all the solos, at least once each, made some good progress."

"Good. That's great. Did you ask him about the message the other day?"

"I tried," she said. "He didn't want to talk about it, so I just dropped it."

"Hmm." Castle nodded. He could see that the mysterious voicemail was still bothering Kate, but it seemed there was nothing they could do about it.

A waiter appeared at their elbows, and they quickly ordered a pizza to share and two beers. After the man departed, Castle gave Beckett's hand a squeeze, waiting until she lifted her eyes to his face.

"What about at Juilliard this morning, the professors? How did that go?"

"Right!" She sat up straighter, her expression clearing somewhat. "Well, I talked to all but one of the professors on the list. But it was kind of frustrating, actually. None of them had anything bad to say about Greg." She pulled out the piece of paper with the list of names on it, and gave him a quick rundown of each person she had talked to.

"Hmm," Castle said when she was finished. He slid the list toward him, studying it. "So we've got two who were overly friendly, one jittery, and one who was, well, German." As Kate nodded, he went on, "Any one of those could have been covering up a guilty conscience."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Yeah, or it could just be their reactions to the stress of preparing for a new school year," she pointed out. "Or, for that matter, it could just be their natural personalities." She sighed, frowning down at the list of names. "What about your phone calls? Any luck?"

"Not really." He told her about the calls he had made, and how he'd also found a way to question some of the Storm cast members under the guise of gossip. "It was basically the same story as what you found. No one seems to be able to think of anything awful that Greg's been involved in."

"So we've gotten nowhere," she said, her frown deepening.

Castle shook his head emphatically. "No, come on, Beckett, don't get discouraged. This is still good progress. See, we've eliminated some possibilities, right? It probably wasn't someone at the school, and it probably wasn't someone in the show."

"Unless there was something that no one bothered to mention," she grumbled. "We're still no closer to figuring out what Greg did that upset someone, let alone who it is."

"We'll get there," Castle said confidently. "We still have to talk to Greg's students, and Chloe. And we should go back to the school and try to find that last teacher who wasn't there this morning. Maybe one of those people will give us something."

"Yeah, maybe." Kate pursed her lips, then brightened, straightening up. "Oh, and we didn't ask Greg about his romantic history. Maybe he has an angry ex with some kind of grudge. He's not married, is he?"

"No, I don't think so," Castle said. "But a disgruntled ex isn't a good story, Beckett. There's gotta be more to it than that."

Beckett groaned and shook her head. "Castle. Not everything is an opera."

"Oh, come on," he needled, squeezing her hand again. "Admit it, you'd be disappointed if it turns out to be something that simple."

She merely narrowed her eyes at him, but anything she might have said was forestalled by the arrival of the waiter with their food and drinks.


They lingered over their meal, since they had the time for it, despite the waiter's none-too-subtle attempts to nudge them along. At last they put down their napkins, pried themselves out of the chairs, and pushed out through the crowd of people waiting by the entrance for a table.

Castle once again took Kate's hand, lacing his thick fingers through her slimmer ones as they strolled back toward the theater. The streets were thronged with Saturday-night tourists and other revelers, and Kate pressed closer against Castle's side to avoid being jostled. It almost felt like they were an oasis, a small bubble of calm in the midst of the frenzy. They were the only ones not in a rush, or so it seemed.

"Some of the cast and crew will probably go out to a club after the show," Castle said as they walked. "They usually do, especially on weekend nights. Do you want to go along?"

"Do you?" she hedged, glancing sideways at him. Kate was really not the clubbing type, especially not when she was in the middle of preparing for a singing engagement. But she wanted to spend the evening with her boyfriend, so if he was up for the partying, she would go along.

"Ehh." He shrugged. "I'd be just as happy to go back to the loft and relax. It's been a long time since I did two shows in a row." It was his turn to glance over at her. "Go ahead, you can say it. I'm getting boring in my old age."

Kate burst out laughing. "You're not old, babe." She gave his hand a squeeze. "And you're definitely not boring."

"Sweet talker," he joked, grinning back at her. He leaned over to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then, seeing that they had arrived at the theater, he murmured into her ear, "Wanna come back to my dressing room? I'll show you just how not-boring I can be."

A pleasant shiver ran lightly across her skin and down her spine, her entire body suddenly acutely aware of his, so close, so warm. The scent of his aftershave tantalized her nose. "Tempting," she managed. "But I think you'd better conserve your strength for the show, don't you?"

"Beckett!" he gasped, pressing his other hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Are you implying that I lack stamina?"

She couldn't help laughing again. "Hardly." She gave him a slow blink, the kind that conveyed exactly what she meant. "After the show's over and you take me back to your loft, I expect you to still have lots of strength left."

"Challenge accepted," Castle growled, and leaned in again, but this time she evaded his kiss, because she could see that it was going to be the kind that might get out of hand. So to speak.

"How's that song coming along?" she deflected. His eyes flashed at her, a hint of a pout forming on his lips.

"That's unfair, Beckett." He sighed melodramatically. "Now you've put it back into my head, and I'll have no choice but to go work on it some more."

"Oops," she grinned, unrepentant. She was, in fact, quite curious about what he was working on - it had been a while since he'd gotten as thoroughly into the zone as he had been this morning. But she also knew that he didn't like to show anyone a work in the early stages; it had to reach a certain level of definition before he'd be comfortable letting her see it.

"Come on, babe," she said, tugging his hand lightly, leading him into the building. "There's plenty of time before the show."

They went to the dressing room together, and settled in on the chairs, where Castle pulled out the loose pages of his new song and bent over them, muttering and humming to himself. Kate took the opportunity to study her music, opening the Carmina Burana score on her lap and working her way through the solos, making some more notes based on the things she and Roy had talked about earlier.

She wasn't sure how much time had gone by when the assistant stage manager knocked on the door. "Mr. Castle? Are you in there?" she called.

Castle lifted his head, blinking, wearing that dazed expression that he usually bore when he was pulled out of a composing haze. Kate could see that it would take him a moment to reorient himself, so she jumped up and opened the door herself.

"He's here," she said. "He's just in the creative zone."

"Oh." The other woman glanced past Kate, seeing Castle with pencil in hand, surrounded by sheets of staff paper. "I'm so sorry to interrupt. Just wanted to be sure he was here."

"Don't worry. He'll be ready at curtain time," Kate promised with a smile.

"Okay. Thanks." The ASM handed her a bottle of sparkling water and walked off.

"Time to snap out of it, babe," Kate said, closing the door again. She put the bottle of water on the ledge underneath the room's wide mirror. Then, because she knew it was one of the most effective ways to get him out of the zone - and because she wanted to - she threw a leg across Castle's thighs and straddled him, sitting down on his lap. She loosened the pencil from his fingers, dropping it onto the table, and then laced her fingers together behind his neck.

He stared up at her, the corners of his mouth quirking with amusement. His eyes were clearing, fully focused on her now, and darkened with desire.

"Why, Ms. Beckett," he rumbled, low and enticing. His hands came up and spread across her back, his fingers bracketing her ribs, wide and warm. "How very nice to see you."

"Likewise," she grinned. She leaned forward until their lips were just barely brushing against each other. "It's time to get ready for the show," she whispered.

Castle groaned and his grip tightened, fingertips pressing into her skin as he pulled her closer. "What show?" His breath tickled her cheeks, and then he was kissing her, hard and hot.

Kate felt a moan bubble up in her throat, and she couldn't hold it back. Castle swallowed it, his tongue insistent against her lips. She kissed him back eagerly, enjoying the feel of his body warm and solid under hers.

But when she felt his fingers creeping stealthily under her shirt, fingertips painting delicate streaks along the skin of her lower back, she pulled away, panting. "Castle," she said warningly.

"Kate," he responded on a groan. His mouth connected with the underside of her jaw, teeth nipping lightly, and she gasped, her whole body shuddering against him. His pleased rumble washed over her, bringing her back to unfortunate reality.

"Sorry, babe," she panted. With an effort, she pushed his hands away and stood up. "It's time to get ready," she said again. "They'll be calling you soon."

For a moment Castle just stared up at her, adorably rumpled and flushed, and she was so close to giving in and sliding back onto his lap again; but then he let out a breath, half-laugh and half-sigh, and ran a hand over his face. When he took the hand away and stood up, he was grinning.

"You sure know how to get a guy's attention," he husked. "Are you planning to come by here at intermission?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kate hummed, mentally cursing the curve of her lips. It was so hard to resist that hoarse tone he used, his voice low and scratchy with the same desire that she felt. The end of the show suddenly felt a long way off.

"Aww," Castle grumbled, pouting, "why not?"

"You know perfectly well why not," she chided, narrowing her eyes at him. He pouted some more, but didn't bother denying it. Not for the first time, Kate mentally kicked herself for that one moment of abandon, many months ago here in this very room. She would probably never live that down.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to shake it off. "How's this coming along?" she asked, touching her fingertips to the pages of the new song scattered across the table. The neat freak in her was itching to gather up the loose sheets of paper, tap them into an orderly pile, but she knew that Castle wouldn't like that. He hated it when anyone moved his pages around while he was in the middle of a piece.

"It's almost done," he answered. He ran a hand over his face again and then through his hair. "Not sure where it's going after it's finished, but we'll see."

Kate tilted her head curiously, waiting for him to continue. But when he didn't, she shrugged and put that aside for now.

"Are you with it now, Castle?" she asked. "Because I should get up to the box. Don't get sucked back into the haze."

"No, I'm good. I'm good," he said. He cleared his throat and looked around. "I'll get my tux on and be all ready."

"And that's my cue to leave," Kate said, swiftly moving past him to gather up her purse. She definitely did not need to stick around and watch her boyfriend change his clothes, not in this dangerous mood they were both in at the moment.

Castle chuckled softly, and she knew that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Damn him. She straightened up, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder, and glared at him.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," he protested mildly, still grinning.

"Uh-huh." She moved past him again, patting his chest lightly as she went. "Break a leg, babe."

"Thanks." His hands twitched, like he was tempted to grab for her again, but she whisked out of reach and opened the door.

In the corridor outside the door, Kate paused and took a moment for a couple of deep breaths, pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead. Really, this was ridiculous. She was so bad at keeping her cool around that man.

When she had gotten her composure back - mostly - she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and went to the lobby to find the house manager. A few minutes later, she was seated in Castle's private box, waiting for the show to begin.


Thanks for reading!