AN: Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed seeing Kate's progress over the time that has passed. If last chapter was the "sweaty Kate" chapter than this one is the "sweaty Rick" chapter. :) Dedicating this one to ER! We're just starting to gear up for some upcoming action. Hope you all like it and as always, thanks for the kind words! I really can't emphasize enough how awesome it is to hear your reactions to chapters.

Disclaimer: Castle belongs to AWM. And ABC. Although, I'd argue that *we* do a better job promoting it!

Chapter 10

Still around 5 Months after Kate's disappearance

It felt so damn good. He reached to pull his sweat-soaked shirt up and over his chest, throwing it on the floor of the gym. He pulled out a clean, white shirt to replace it, and changed into his running shoes.

He understood now why Kate loved sparring. She'd always gone up to the gym after a rough day. Worked it out on the bag. She'd come home sweaty, exhausted, and with a much clearer head. Of course he'd always found it incredibly hot. He spent many a time trying to convince her that post-sparring sex would be phenomenal. She'd roll her eyes at him but always eventually give in and drag him into the shower with her. Her need was almost feral those times, blood still pumping with adrenaline. And oh did he love being the subject of all that excess energy.

So he was used to the effect that sparring had on her. But he'd never completely understood why she needed it before now.

The rush of the fight. The back and forth, the strength, the speed, the power. The sense of release. Release he desperately sought since that night. It was invigorating, igniting his every sense, fueled by the burning rage that refused to leave him. The slow and steady drive toward Cole Maddox. The fight that he would win. His instructors seemed impressed with his progress. He'd improved quickly over the months. They told him that if he put in the work, he'd get there.

So he had. He'd lost weight, toned muscle, even had the slightest hint of abs. His body leaner than it had been in years, facial features more pronounced, chiseled. But what his instructors were most impressed with was his stamina. He'd done everything they'd asked of him in training. Long hours spent running, sparring, lifting weights. It didn't matter if he was sore or tired or completely drained, he kept going. So many nights he'd come home completely spent, collapsing on his bed, just to get up and do it all over the next day.

He didn't think twice about it. About the worried looks he received from his mother and daughter. The calls from Epso and Ryan asking him to grab a beer that he always turned down. He was too focused to lose sight of the goal now. Because that's what she would have done for him. He would do anything, anything to find her.

He turned the volume on his iPhone up, getting ready for his daily run, as he left the private gym where he'd been training. Once the music was sufficiently blaring he set a steady pace.

The last three months had passed surprisingly quickly once he'd formed his plan. It helped to have a goal. Something tangible to move toward. But it still did nothing to fill the glaring space left by her absence from his loft. From his life. It burned and pulled at him, left him feeling completely defeated most days but resigned to the fight and the drive.

He hadn't quit investigating. He couldn't quit investigating. There was nothing that would stop him from searching until he found her. He'd just had to find new ways. He'd been completely disgusted with the Twelfth. He knew it wasn't the boys' fault that they'd, for all intents and purposes, stopped the investigation. But that didn't take away the bitterness he felt. They were all supposed to be a team.

But he didn't have his partner. Again, there was the silent ache that never left. The void that couldn't be filled. There was no team in this and he'd realized that months ago, when they'd all tried to convince him the best thing to do was to accept she was dead. That she wasn't coming back to him. They'd been through everything, no leads, nothing.

"Castle, you know if there was anything out there, we'd be on it immediately, regardless of Gates's orders. But there's nothing, man. We're sorry."

He didn't get it. He would never understand. Since when did everyone just give up? They'd always done everything they could for Beckett. And now it was as if everyone was ready to concede defeat before they even began.

So that was the end of that. They'd tried to get him to come back and work on other cases with them occasionally. Even Gates had said he was welcome to consult, as if that would pacify his need to solve Kate's case. There was no way he was stepping back into the precinct to work on anything but finding her.

He'd basically shut them out from that point onward. He would do this on his own. His own way. After he started the ball rolling on the banquet, he'd continued digging. He wasn't getting anywhere though. The boys hadn't lied. There really were no leads. He had the only evidence they'd found, in that note from Maddox.

She'd simply vanished. A ghost haunting his dreams and memories. Here and gone, no trace of her absence except for the gaping hole in his chest where he'd let her into his heart. His entire soul.

He needed bigger resources.

He knew he couldn't go to the CIA. Not after things with Sofia. He couldn't trust those connections now. But there was always FBI. Agent Shaw. She tracked murderers. Studied the way they thought. Anticipated their movements. Brought justice when the killer was so elusive they never thought it'd be possible. Maybe, just maybe, she'd agree to help him.

It shocked him how easy it had been to get into contact with her. Almost as if she had been anticipating it…expecting it. And they'd been in contact ever since. She was the only one that seemed to understand his mission and his need to track down Maddox. She'd done all that she could to help him. She actually encouraged his plan. It was the support he'd desperately needed to keep afloat.

She'd provided him little leads all along the way. Information that indicated Maddox hadn't strayed too far from Manhattan. Unfortunately, she'd found nothing about Kate or her whereabouts.

He couldn't lie. It frustrated him. He'd been hoping with the heightened resources, they'd be able to find something. Anything. But all signs seemed to only further direct his focus to the assassin. And Agent Shaw seemed every bit as determined as he was to bring him down.

He believed with his entire being that the banquet would afford him the opportunity to confront Maddox. He needed answers every bit as much as he sought revenge for Kate's disappearance (not death, he'd not concede that until he was sure). He vowed to find those answers. He vowed to kill Maddox if those answers were anything less than Kate's return.

There was definitely no turning back now. The banquet was scheduled in just one month. The details were almost all taken care of. A huge spread in the Times would appear in a week. He'd spared no expense on publicity. He was leaving no chance that Maddox wouldn't discover it. And when he did, Castle hoped that it would enrage him. He wanted Maddox angry, wanted him to throw this in his face. The son of a bitch would be well aware that Rick Castle wasn't going down without a fight. And when Maddox came for him, this time he wouldn't get away with a sucker punch.

He was going to bring the war that Kate hadn't had the opportunity to. Cole Maddox would go down in flames for what he'd done. He would make sure of that.

As Rick jogged to a stop in front of the loft, he checked his time. A new record. Yes, Maddox wasn't going to know what hit him. He'd made damn sure of that.

Thoughts?