As she arrives back at her desk, Kate feels her stomach drop to her knees. Sitting entirely too comfortably, on top of her desk, are Detectives Ryan and Esposito.

"Boss," they greet in unison, smug little grins plastered all over their faces.

"Something I can help you with, Gentlemen?"

"I dunno...Beckett.." Ryan hedges.

"Is there?" Esposito supplies, casually reaching to her M&M stash and popping one in his mouth with a smirk. "Something wrong with the ladies room? Anything you care to share?"

She feels the hot flush of embarrassment roll and spread throughout her body, briefly she squeezes her eyes closed and wishes a very large hole will miraculously appear and swallow her whole. When that doesn't happen she attempts option two.

"You saw nothing!" she hisses at them, putting on her very best 'I'm the boss and you're not' voice.

"Mhmm," intones Ryan

"Right," barbs Esposito.

Realizing she's been caught and there's no graceful way out of the situation she lets outs a heavy sigh, acquiesces with no small degree of reluctance.

"Fine. Castle's back."

"And?..." they sing-song.

"And...it's none of your business."

The boys hop off her desk and exchange high-fives and fist bumps. She hears the word, "dude". Repeatedly. She rolls her eyes and rests back in her chair to watch their little exchange. Her friends are annoying, yes, but also very obviously happy for her and she can't hold this against them. Her and Castle may have done a little happy dance of their own when they figured out 'Esplaine' were an item. And now, weeks after their breakup, they are still scheming of ways to get them back together.

Of course they had the good graces to save the dancing until they were in the parking garage. And they scheme via text message.

"Are you two done?" she inquires.

They have the good sense to clear their throats and make their way back over to their own desks.

"Yeah, sorry boss,"

They both mumble their apologies but Esposito's wink and Ryan's squeeze to the shoulder as they depart warm her heart. She's - to a certain degree at least - glad her embarrassment could provide them with a moment of levity. The previous week, hell, the previous year has assailed her team with well more than their fare share of heartache and bad news. She will let them have this one.

It probably helped that she was still basking in a warm and fuzzy afterglow from the smoking hot encounter in the bathroom. She'd think about the declarations and what they would mean later. Right now they had a case to solve.

"Guys!" she yells across the bullpen. "We got anything new on Tyson?"

"Nothing," Ryan shakes his head sadly.

"The guy's a fucking ghost," Esposito growls to no one in particular.

"Let's hope Lanie finds something," she replies quietly.

The next four hours are spent checking and rechecking files. Following up on other leads, endless phone calls, endless paperwork, two hours of grainy surveillance footage revealing absolutely nothing. She badgers the medical examiner to the first two victims, Dr. Goodhue, until he refuses to take her calls. She bugs Lanie until physical violence is threatened and she is promised to hear the minute anything new is discovered.

"As always."

"Thank you very much."

"You and I will talk later."

"I heard about the mensroom, Miss Beckett."

With an irritated glare shot to Esposito, she taps her foot anxiously against her desk and misses her partner. She assures herself it's just his insight and not his teeth scraping along her jaw or his tongue sampling at her lips.

Everything leads back to Tyson.

Three bodies, laid out and arranged peacefully in semi-public locations. Smothered instead of strangled but her gut is screaming "Tyson" and her gut isn't often wrong.

She's chewing on her nails, with her head bowed and her eyes closed when she hears it. A rhythmical squeak of plastic wheels rolling along linoleum flooring.

As she draws her eyes upwards she sees well shined shoes and dark washed jeans, a deep plum shirt draped deliciously over a broad, firm, chest.

"Detective." He leers, laying one of his most charming smiles on her and she is almost undone.

"What.." she lets her eyes travel to the carry-on and back again to his face, "..is that?"

"Luggage," he supplies helpfully. The hopeful glimmer in his eyes whittles away at what little resolve she is trying to hold on to.

She knows what he is up to. He's planning to move in and keep her safe, play caveman and probably house while he's at it. It isn't an entirely unappealing offer but she is the one supposed to 'protect and serve'. She is also perhaps just a little freaked out about the sudden shift in their partnership, relationship, whatever the hell this is.

"Castle." She begins fidgeting with the smallest elephant figurine on her desk.

"Don't." She looks up quickly and he levels her with an even stare. Clear blue eyes bore into hazel.

It is both a warning and a plea.

"Don't you dare take back what you said".

"I'll do it again, this time in public."

"You'll break me."

And the last of her wall slips away. She is expecting to panic, to backpedal and to make excuses. However; she feels calm and surprisingly comforted by his oafish assumptions. She rather likes this new and forceful Rick.

Down, girl.

"..'Kay"

He sits happily in his usual chair and looks expectantly towards her.

"So what do we have?"

"Nothing but gut instinct," she spits out irritably. She walks to the board, flips it around so he can see and hears him gasp.

"Kate.."

Oh. The victims. He didn't know.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"While your tongue was down my throat and your hands up my shirt?"

"Touche." He stands and walks over to where she's leaning up against an empty desk, scoots her over with a shove of his hips and gives her hand a furtive squeeze. "We'll figure it out."

She blows out in a low whisper, "I just wish I knew how."

"Come on," he tugs her up and towards the elevator. "I'll buy you lunch."

A/N: Never fear; you dirty, rotten, scoundrels. Sexy-times ahead. Please excuse the plot.