Author's Note: Sorry for the length of time between posts - I was sick the last few days, and apparently juggling four fics at once isn't the best idea in the world. But...feel free to check out my new fix, Not Just A Cop - and please, review!

Ricki's loft…

Even with all of the craziness of the past several days, Ricki had to catch up on her writing. Black Pawn wanted as much of the new Nikki Heat manuscript as Ricki could give them by the end of the week. Something told Ricki that George wanted the manuscript more than anyone else at the publishing company, her second ex-husband seemingly oblivious to everything that had gone on of late.

Not once did George ask if Alexis was okay upon her return. Not that Ricki was surprised; George had always been lukewarm toward her daughter, at best, and if Ricki was being honest with herself, that was a major reason their marriage fell apart.

If Ricki was going to give herself to someone, that someone had to accept Alexis as part of the deal. George hadn't been willing to do that. Fortunately, there were no such issues with Kate.

Kate was spending the afternoon having lunch with her father; Jim had invited Ricki to tag along and she really wanted to, but the manuscript had to come first. After all, as successful as the first two Nikki Heat books had become, Black Pawn was counting dollar signs and eager for the next installment.

Apparently, Nikki Heat and Jamie Rook made quite the pair.

Martha had taken Alexis out for a day of food and shopping, and Ricki knew from experience that meant she wouldn't see Alexis until the next day. Which was fine; she loved how her daughter and mother bonded, and this time it came with the added benefit of giving Ricki time and quiet to write.

Which was why Ricki huffed in frustration when she heard a knock at her door.

She reluctantly rose from her chair, dark hair in a messy bun. Ricki wore an oversized maroon t-shirt that hung slightly off her right shoulder, black sweatpants accentuating the perfect stay-home-all-day-and-write ensemble. Unsure of who could be visiting her, Ricki stared into the peephole on her door, rolling her eyes and yanking open the door.

"Captain Gates."

Ricki didn't even try to keep the venom out of her voice, and the writer took silent pleasure in the fact that her tone made the other woman slightly recoil. But Gates regained her composure, far more quickly than Ricki would've liked. "Ms. Castle."

Ricki rolled her eyes. "Beckett's not here."

"I'm actually here to talk to you." Gates barged past Ricki and into her loft without waiting for an invite – an invite Ricki was not about to give her – and the writer snuck in another eyeroll as she closed the door.

"Then make it quick. I've got a pushy publisher."

"Let me be clear, Ms. Castle." Gates folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her dark eyes. "Whatever arrangement you had with Captain Montgomery that allowed you to serve as a consultant with the NYPD? That's over now. You are officially barred from my precinct."

Ricki burst out laughing, shaking her head. The laugh intensified when she saw confusion and annoyance etch their way onto the captain's features, and Ricki leaned back against the island of her kitchen as the laughter eventually subsided.

"Look, I knew you have a mighty high opinion of yourself," Ricki burst into another laugh, "but to think I would want to stick around the Twelfth with you there and Beckett…not? I never thought you were that stupid, Captain."

"Ms. Castle—"

"You listen to me, Victoria." Ricki closed the distance between the two women, her jaw setting in anger. "Unless you're here to tell me that you're stepping down as captain – and that Detectives Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito are being reinstated – I'm not interested in anything you have to say."

Gates shook her head. "You know, I'm not the bad guy here."

"Funny." Ricki folded her arms over her chest. "As someone who's written a bad guy or two in her day, that's exactly what you're acting like. Hell, for all I know, you're as dirty as Montgomery and you forced Beckett out as part of some grand conspiracy."

Though Gates didn't respond immediately, Ricki could tell by the look on her face that she had struck a chord somewhere. Part of the writer wanted to pursue that, dig just a little bit deeper, get the rest of the story. But the last thing Ricki needed was to wind up in a jail cell, and until Kate found her way back into law enforcement – somehow – there wasn't much any of them could do.

So instead, Ricki went back to the front door, opening it, and giving Gates as acidic a smile as she could muster. Ricki was usually more hospitable than this, but given present company, she wanted nothing more than to throw the captain out on her ass.

"Now, if that's all, Captain…get the hell out of my house."

Gates' steps were purposeful as she walked through the threshold, as if she wanted to make sure Ricki heard the clack of her heels against the floor. She stopped at the doorway, glancing over her shoulder and shaking her head. "This isn't over, Ms. Castle."

With an eyeroll, Ricki slammed the door in Gates' face, turning to walk back to her office. "Go fuck yourself."

Ricki was just about to get back to her office when another knock at the door stopped her. Ricki huffed another sigh of frustration and curled her hands into fists. Why did people insist on paying her a visit when she was trying to get some work done? More importantly, why were they paying her a visit while she was trying to knock out a Nikki-Jamie sex scene?

People's timing really did suck.

Reluctantly, the writer crossed back to the foyer, pulling open the door – her look of frustration immediately morphing into curiosity. "Esposito?"

Javier Esposito looked like he had seen better days. He wore at least a week's worth of stubble on his face, his eyes were slightly bloodshot, and if the bags under them were any indication, he hadn't slept in a good long while. His look of confusion matched Ricki's as he tossed a thumb over his shoulder. "What was Gates doing here?"

Ricki shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Little Miss Holier-Than-Thou tried banning me from the precinct. Like I have any more reason to be there."

Shrugging, as if he were content with the explanation, Esposito walked across the threshold when Ricki stepped aside. "Look, can we talk?"

"Yeah, sure." Ricki crossed into the kitchen, pulling open the door to the fridge and grabbing two bottle of water. She sat at the island, tossing one of the bottles Esposito's way before taking a swig from her own. "What's up?"

"Look," Esposito sighed as he caught the bottle. "I know we got off on the wrong foot."

Ricki shrugged with another swig. "Hey, no big. I get it, Javi. Civilian butting in on official police business, there was bound to be some blowback."

"It wasn't just that." Esposito cracked open his bottle and took his first swallow.

Another shrug from Ricki. "I know."

Setting his bottle down, Esposito cocked his head to the side with a frown. "What?"

"I know." Ricki shrugged again. "Look, it was clear early on you had a thing for Beckett. Way I figured, you either had something with her and it went wrong, you tried and got rejected, or you've never had the chance to tell her how you feel."

"The third one." Esposito hunched his shoulders and averted his gaze before straightening his posture again. "Then…knowing about you and your reputation, throw in some protective big brother bullshit…"

"You were worried I'd hurt Beckett." Ricki polished off the rest of her bottle. "So what changed?"

"When she got shot." Esposito shook his head. "It was still so early on with you two, no one would've blamed you if you had bailed. But you didn't. You were there with her, every day. There were days we had to beg you to go home. You were there for her, and you helped us bring down the bastard who did it."

Ricki's mind instantly went back to the tape she and Kate discovered the previous day – and the fact that they were sitting on it, out of some selfish need for Kate to be the one to make the ultimate arrest. Ricki knew it was probably dumb, but it didn't seem right going down any other way. So until they found a way to get Kate back to the precinct…

"Just wish we could've brought down the guy who killed her mom."

"Point is…" Esposito stood. "You proved you were in it for the long haul. She deserves that. Not some square-jawed wannabe fed who bails at the first job offer. Not some doctor who's always traveling the world saving sick kids. You're good for her, Ricki, and Ryan and I appreciate you for it."

Such blunt honesty from Esposito was a bit of a surprise; other than the day at the precinct where he had threatened-not-threatened Ricki, there hadn't been much of this soul-bearing between them. Granted, Ricki had spent much of her short time shadowing Kate focused on just her, so it wasn't like Ricki had bonded much with Ryan and Esposito.

Still, Beckett had obviously trusted the two men, so Ricki felt a sort of affinity for them as well. Even with Esposito's tough-guy act when they first met.

"Thanks, Javi. But I have to ask," Ricki paused and waved her hand in front of her face, "and don't hate me for this, but…why admit this to me?"

Esposito's eyes narrowed, as if he were considering the question for the first time. Ricki fished another couple water bottles from the fridge, sliding one across the island to the former detective. He tore off the cap and took a long sip, probably to buy himself just a little more time before he had to give an answer.

"You ever have to just…get something out, even if it don't make a damn difference?" Esposito shrugged, took another swig. "I've stared down the barrel of a sniper rifle, Castle. I've had guys I served with bleed out in my arms. We keep things from each other. In the service, in life. But in that moment? When they know they're about to die? None of that matters anymore."

Swirling her own swig of water around in her mouth before swallowing, Ricki gave a single nod. "Saying something simply because it needs to be said, no matter the consequences."

"Something like that." Esposito shrugged again. "Look, I know this doesn't change anything. You love her. She loves you. You two are clearly happy together. In the end, seeing the way you make her smile…I can live with that."

Ricki barely suppressed a smirk. "She'd kick your ass if you told her, wouldn't she?"

"All the way to One PP and back." Esposito rose from his stool, capping his half-empty bottle and sliding into one of the pockets of his cargo pants. He crossed over to Ricki, extending his right hand. "You keep making Beckett happy, you're okay in my book."

"Good." Ricki shook Esposito's hand with a sideways grin. "Last thing I want is someone who's done three tours in Iraq coming after me."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Ricki watched as Esposito headed back toward the front door, frowning a bit as she pushed herself away from the island. "Hey, Javi."

The former detective stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "Yo."

"I know you and Ryan aren't cops anymore, but…" Ricki approached Esposito. "I get a funny vibe from Gates. I don't think she's squeaky clean."

Esposito nodded in understanding, a sly grin slowly itching its way onto his tired, stubbled face. "I hear ya, Castle. I got some contacts over at IA, see if I can call in a favor. Ryan might know a guy or two."

"Thanks, Javi. And…I'm sorry you two had to lose your jobs because of this."

"Please." Esposito pulled the door open and stepped through the threshold. "One thing the three of us got in common, Castle? We'd do anything for Beckett."

The door closed, leaving Ricki to her own thoughts again. She immediately went right back for her office, the manuscript for Heat Rises beckoning to her. On second thought, that sex scene would have to wait. Esposito's words had struck a chord with the writer, and she felt the need to add a scene. It wasn't in the outline, but this wouldn't be the first time Ricki improvised a part of her story.

It probably wouldn't be the last, either.

As soon as Ricki sank herself back into her chair, her phone rang. Rolling her eyes in exasperation – as often as she was being interrupted, one would think she and Kate were trying to have some private time – Ricki frowned when she didn't recognize the number on the display. She didn't normally answer in circumstances like this, but something told her she better do that this time.

"Hello?"

"Ricki."

Ricki frowned, her eyes trained on the blinking cursor. "…Dad?"

The gruff voice smirked on the other end. "I hear you've been trying to get a hold of me."

"Yeah." Ricki sat up. "Yeah, I have been. Uh…listen, we've got evidence on Bracken."

"Evidence."

"Yeah. That ties him to Johanna Beckett's murder."

"Well, I'd say that's a pretty big damn deal. Where is it?"

"Somewhere safe." Ricki stood and began pacing back and forth in her office, the scene she was planning to write seconds ago now long forgotten. "Thing is, I think Beckett should be the one to bring him down, but—"

"The fact that she's no longer a badge is an issue."

"Yeah."

"Give me forty eight hours, kid. I'll take care of it."