A/N 1: Hi guys! So, I had to really buckle down to get this chapter finished. I was so far ahead when I started posting, but now I'm all caught up. (This is why I'm posting weekly, to give me time to write.) This story is almost finished, one more chapter to go.

Once again – still – ad nauseum ;) I thank you all for your support. Maybe it's weird, but the faves, follows, and reviews do help when I'm feeling down for whatever reason. You guys rock!

Characters, situations and any words you recognize are not mine. Everything else is.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9

Kate could feel the small drive in her pocket as she drove home on her motorcycle. What the hell had Castle done that had him so spooked about her seeing this? It had to have something to do with a case she had worked or was working.

Wait a second.

Kate had an odd feeling she might know what was on the drive.

Could it be? Could it really be?

All thoughts of a bath, wine and Heat Rises left her mind. Even leftover lasagna (always better the second day) lost its appeal.

It had to be her mother's case. And by association, her shooting case as well.

So much for the progress made last night.

Beckett gunned her bike as she traveled through a green light, the roar reflecting her anger at the writer and what he had kept from her. Her conscience twinged – she hadn't seen the file yet and she was already judging what she thought was on it.

She took a deep breath and consciously calmed down at the next red light.

You don't know, Beckett, she thought. Go home, take a quick shower, get the grime of the day off and then stick the drive in the computer and get it over with.

Somehow though, that didn't make the foreboding go away.

XXXXXX

With still damp hair pulled back into a loose ponytail to keep it out of her face, Kate sat down at her desk and turned on her laptop. She eyed the small drive sitting innocuously next to the mouse suspiciously.

Of course she was going to look at it, as soon as she got home, there was no way Castle didn't know that. He'd piqued her curiosity with his 'I forgot about this, but I'm going to give it to you, but wait until the case is done before you look at it.' Yeah, right, Castle do you even know me?

Still, she resisted plugging it in.

Oh, for God's sake, Beckett! She rolled her eyes. It's not going to blow up in your face, just stuff the thing in there! It might not be what you're dreading anyway!

Kate leaned back, running her hands over her head. She looked in disgust at the dampness there and wiped her hands on her leggings. This was ridiculous. She stood, moved to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine she'd opened two days before. She had a feeling she'd need it.

Taking her glass and the bottle back to the desk she poured a full glass and took a deep breath.

Stop. Being. An. Idiot.

She picked up the drive and inserted it. She took a big sip of wine as her photograph came on the screen, followed by smaller photos that seemed to orbit hers like planets around the sun.

Wine forgotten, Kate clicked on her photo and her jaw dropped at all the information that Castle had. So much for a good night's sleep for her interrogation in the morning, even if she stopped reading right now, there was no way her mind would turn off.

How? she thought. And why? Why didn't you tell me Castle? Why did you do this on your own?

XXXXXX

Martha Rodgers was sitting up reading. If anyone asked her, she would deny that she was waiting up for her son – "Why, he's a grown man, father of a teenage daughter, don't be absurd," – but deep down she was worried.

She wasn't sorry she'd brought up his research into Katherine's shooting – and by association her mother's murder case. He needed to tell her, and Martha was pleased that he recognized that even with all his fears.

But that phone call from him tonight…

XXXXXX

A half-hour earlier…

"Hello?"

"I gave it to her," he began with no preamble, no pleasantries, just jumping straight in.

"Richard… What did she say? Did you tell her…?

"No, I didn't tell her what it was," he interrupted, "I just told her to look at it and maybe not judge me too harshly… Well, specifically I asked her to not act like I did."

"It sounds like you think she might…" Martha was having a hard time getting a word in edgewise, because her son broke in again.

"Well, I wouldn't blame her if she did."

"But you said last night went so well…"

"Yes, and she mentioned the progress we made last night, she even invited me over tonight to read the file with her but…"

It was Martha's turn to cut him off.

"Well, that's perfect, Richard. You can explain your motives, your reasons why you created that file and kept it from her."

"No," he replied. "I told her it probably wasn't a good idea, and that she should look it over without me there."

"Oh, Richard, why not?"

"I don't know, Mother, maybe it was self-preservation," he said with some acidity, though Martha knew it was directed at himself, not her. "She's not going to be happy about this."

"Now that's not fair to Katherine, Richard, and you know it. You insisted on a face to face meeting with her to discuss her remembering her shooting, and you can't give her the same courtesy? You kept secrets too."

There was silence a moment before Rick spoke again.

"… I know. You were right Mother, and I know that I should have included her from the beginning. I just hope I haven't destroyed all of our progress…"

"Well, I won't rub it in either way," Martha said. There was a time and place for 'I told you so's' and this wasn't it. "Are you on your way home?"

"Uh, no, I'm not. I'm heading to the Old Haunt."

"Richard…"

"I have to go over this week's orders anyway, and I kind of want to be alone right now"

"You may want to be, but should you?"

There was a pause.

"I won't go overboard, I promise. I'll berate myself over a couple glasses of scotch at most…"

This time it was the cabbie who butted in.

"Old Haunt, buddy. That'll be $10.55."

"The cab's pulling up to the bar, Mother, I'll be home later tonight." There was a pause as Castle paid the fare and exited the cab. "Give Alexis a hug for me," he continued. "I know she'll be in bed by the time I get there."

"Be careful, Richard."

"Right. Goodnight Mother."

Martha was broken out of her reverie by a sharp knock at the door. She glanced at her watch.

Who could that be at this time of night? She rose from her chair.

The peephole told the story soon enough.

Kate Beckett stormed through the door as soon as Martha opened it.

"Where is he?"

"Katherine," Martha began.

"Don't 'Katherine' me!" Kate exclaimed, then noticed the shocked surprise on Martha's face at her vehemence.

"Oh, God, Martha, I'm sorry," she wanted to sink through the floor, but Martha steered her to the couch and she sank into that instead, burying her face in her hands.

"I shouldn't have barged in like that," Kate's voice was muffled. "And I certainly had no business going all 'cop' on you."

She looked up at the shrewd look on the older woman's face.

"I take it you've looked at the file Richard gave to you."

It wasn't a question.

"You knew about it?"

How many other people had Castle shared her personal demons with?

"I've seen him working on a file with your picture on it in his office. I know it has to do with your mother's murder case and your shooting, but I don't know the details, nor do I want to, unless you are willing to share it. And I can't imagine why you'd want to tell me, it's none of my business."

"It's none of Castle's either," Kate mumbled under her breath, but Martha heard her.

"Well, I won't say you're wrong, Katherine, which is why I told him to give it to you, but you know, you kept something from him too."

Kate's head shot up, a stricken look on her face.

"But is this the same thing?" she asked. "I mean…"

"I think the only differences are in the minutiae, darling," Martha shrugged. "You're hurt – you have a right to be. Richard is hurt – he has a right to be. And honestly?" She stared hard at the detective. "I think you both have a right to completely cut the other out of your lives."

Kate's mouth fell open in astonishment. She didn't think she'd ever seen Martha this brutally honest before. She'd thought that Castle's mother was rooting for them to finally come together. But, she conceded to herself, Martha was always going to come down on the side of her son.

But still… Apparently she'd told Castle to give the file to her. Maybe she was still cheering them on – albeit in a tough kind of love way.

"But I don't think either of you want that," Martha continued. "You wouldn't have gone to the effort to work out your problems the other evening if you wanted it to end. So, Katherine, both you and Richard have to figure out how to stop being hurt – or learn to live with it until time diminishes that pain."

The older woman moved to the chair she had been sitting in and picked up her glass of wine. She lifted it to Kate in an unspoken question.

Kate shook her head, still embarrassed at shoving her way past Martha to get inside. Rick's mother! Jesus, of all people… She wouldn't have blamed Martha if she'd called 911 to haul her ass out of there.

But she hadn't, and she hadn't tossed Kate out herself, either.

"He's at the Old Haunt, darling," Martha said as she refilled her glass. "Perhaps it's time for the 'Epic Conversation' part deux?"

XXXXXX

Kate parked her motorcycle in the bar's tiny lot and just sat. What the hell was she going to say? She didn't really want to fight, she wanted to sit on one of Castle's couches in his office with a glass of scotch or bourbon or wine and calmly discuss what he had found, and why it hurt that he'd done this without her knowledge or input.

But she knew herself too well. She knew how she got when her mom's case was brought up. The embarrassing scene at the loft proved that all too well. Hell, she was still annoyed at Captain Gates for not letting her work her shooting – though she did understand why – intellectually. Emotionally – well – Dr. Burke was helping her to hold herself back from possible insubordination.

Dr. Burke. Therapy. Her feelings for Castle. Progress or not, there was so much they hadn't talked about over the weekend.

Kate heaved herself off the bike with a sigh. Still holding her helmet in one hand, she stood outside the door with her other hand fiddling with the drive in her pocket. She hadn't examined the entire document yet, she really wanted Castle's input into his thought process while putting this together.

And yeah, she did need to yell at him a little bit.

For going behind her back. For meeting someone in a frigging parking garage at night of all times. What if it was a trap, Castle? You want to see me go off the deep end, something bad happening to you would certainly do that.

Kate's contemplation was broken when a couple opened the door and walked into the street, odd expressions on both faces telling her that it was weird to just stand outside the doorway, waffling whether or not to go inside.

In or out, Beckett. Come on, suck it up. At least you're confronting him now and not waiting a couple weeks.

Which brought another question to her mind. What had really brought Castle back from Las Vegas? Kate had no idea how long he'd been there, but his statement "I wasn't there long enough to really do anything…" implied he'd only been there a short time.

She gave a sheepish smile to the couple, bit her lip and walked into the bar.

XXXXXX

Rick was in his basement office, staring into space, not really seeing the form he'd just printed and was supposed to be signing off on. If Beckett could see him now, she'd tease him about paperwork, but she couldn't and he seriously doubted she'd be in a teasing mood anyhow. He came to himself when he heard the trap door open and someone clunking down the stairs.

Groaning, he stood and twisted his torso back and forth, working out the kinks in his back. He could have used a full massage, but the only person he wanted to do it would be more likely to put a few knots in instead of easing them out.

"That you Brian?" he called. "Sorry I haven't got this thing back up to you, I just can't concentrate toni…"

He trailed off as the object of his thoughts strode into the office, motorcycle boots the reason for the clunking.

"Paperwork, Castle? You?"

Huh.

He didn't answer and Kate raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, um… No, um… Procrastinating as usual, Beckett," he stammered. "I, uh, wasn't expecting to see you tonight.

"What did you expect, Castle? Can't a girl come in for a drink?" Kate folded her arms.

"Um…" Rick still wasn't quite sure what was going on. Even though he had asked her to wait for the case to end – and he still believed she should – Castle had thought for sure Beckett would ignore him and open up that file and spend the night going over every little detail.

Kate's look darkened, and Castle knew any teasing was over. He was right, she'd definitely seen the file.

"So," she began, with no other preamble. "How long have you been working my case without me knowing? Years? Did you even stop after I kicked you out and you supposedly 'apologized'? And was that apology fake? Were you ever really sorry about it?

Kate was fast working herself into a fury. Rick tried to speak, but she wasn't finished.

"Did you just say you were sorry to get back into my good graces? To get back into the precinct?"

"Beckett," Castle tried to interrupt.

"Did you just say that so you could continue to milk me for your books?" She rolled right over him. "Damn it, Castle, what is the matter with you?"

"How could you have possibly read that entire file already?" Finally, he thought, a complete sentence.

"Seriously? That's where you're going? No pretending it was 'just research'? No pretending you could make progress when I never could?"

"Now wait a minute," Castle snapped, his own ire rising. "I discovered that your mother's death was not random gang violence, that was hardly pretending."

"You met with a stranger alone in an empty parking garage!" Beckett seethed. "You never should have gone in alone – hell, you never should have gone in at all! I'm the cop, not you! I'm trained for this, you're not!"

She stepped closer and lowered her voice.

"Castle, this isn't your job."

"The hell it isn't, Beckett!" As Kate's voice diminished, Rick's rose in volume. Okay, maybe it's not an 'I get paid for this' job, but I AM there to help protect you!"

"Jesus, Castle, I have a gun – not to mention I'm a big girl – but that's not even the point. The point is you DON'T have a gun, you have no training. You went into that 'meeting' with nothing, no protection at all, YOU could have been shot! YOU could have been killed! What am I…?"

She trailed off and began again, changing tack, softening her tone even more.

"What is Alexis going to do without you? I know what it's like to lose a parent to murder, Castle, and you went in there deliberately. And Martha? Children aren't supposed to die before their parents; even adult children."

Castle wasn't having any of that, Kate had evidently come in for an argument, so he'd give her one.

"Do you remember that fight we had just before Roy was killed?" he cut in, his tone biting. "Let me ask you what you asked me. 'What about you, Rick?' Let me turn that question around on you a bit. What about you Kate? Do you care about me or what? Is what we talked about before real or not?"

And what about Jim?" Rick went on. "You don't think he died a little when you were shot? 'Children aren't supposed to die before their parents'? You take that risk every day. And don't talk to me about training, you know as well as I do training doesn't always help."

Kate collapsed on the loveseat Rick had installed in the office. Her countenance and posture were the same as they were the other evening.

"I remember something else I said during that conversation," she said so quietly, Rick had to strain a little to hear her. "I said that you didn't know me – that you thought you did, but you didn't."

Kate watched as Castle drew himself up to defend himself, but she continued before he could interrupt.

"I suppose I just proved myself wrong tonight," she let out a self-deprecating laugh. "This is why you didn't come over to look at the file with me. 'Shoot first and ask questions later.' I'd say you have me pretty well pegged. And you did back then too."

Rick was silent for a moment. The turnaround seemed a little sudden, but not out of character for the detective. But he needed to make sure they ended up on the same page. It surprised him a little, with the way he'd been acting, but lies or not, romantic relationship or just friendship, Castle wanted Beckett in his life in some way.

The fight seemed to have drained from Kate after he mentioned her father. It may have been something of a cheap shot – but so was alluding to Alexis and his mother. She'd made her point though, he never wanted to put his family through that, but he wanted her to see that the point went both ways. Jim would go back down his own rabbit hole if he lost Kate and no one would be able to save him this time.

Kate spoke up again.

"Castle, I'm sorry. I honestly didn't want to pick a fight tonight. I haven't read the whole thing. I'd just started and clicked on the picture of this 'Smith' guy and… God, Castle. I absolutely was going to get after you for doing what you did, it's my case, you should have clued me in. But it's the fact that you met with this guy. That terrifies me. I've lost so much to this case – my mother, my childhood ambitions, very nearly my job when they caught me down in Records reading the official file for the umpteenth time. It's like I…"

She broke off, not sure how she wanted to put her feelings.

"Like you're on rails. A runaway train because someone greased the brakes."

A small smile lifted Kate's lips.

"There's the wordsmith I know."

"So, what do you want here, Kate?" Rick asked. "You seem to have gotten your little…"

"Tantrum, you can say it Castle."

He huffed.

"…Tiff out of your system, what's next?"

To Rick's surprise, Kate pulled the hard drive from the pocket of her leather jacket.

"My suggestion from earlier still stands, Rick. I want to look at this with you, and have you explain it as we go. And I do want you to tell me why you thought it was okay to go behind my back. Did you get the boys help?"

Castle felt a twinge of guilt remembering that it was Esposito who gave him Johanna Beckett's file in the first place all those years ago, but he didn't think that was what she was asking.

"Yes and no," he replied. "They provided all the information on your shooting, the leads and such when Gates kicked me out. I made copies and returned the originals – which they knew I was going to do. I've never told them about meeting Smith, or some of the other things I found in my research."

"Do you think that's his real name?" Kate asked. "Smith?"

"That's the name he gave me," Rick shrugged. "The writer in me would have given him a more interesting, if not exotic alias, if that's what it was, but… who knows?"

"Okay," Kate stood and placed the drive on Castle's desk. "Bring that to my place after we finish Naomi's case."

She stood close and looked him in the eye.

"I want you there to discuss it. Bring Hung's," she ordered, naming her favorite Chinese place. "You know what I like."

"Um… You don't want to keep it?"

"I need to be awake and marginally alert tomorrow for the interrogation. And that thing…" she pointed at the drive on the desk. "…Will keep me up all night. I'll toss and turn as it is, just knowing you have it, but I need you to hang on to it for now."

Rick nodded. The discussion wasn't over by a long shot, but this first volley had been relatively painless, all things considered.

"For what it's worth, Beckett, I'm sorry too. Sorry that I didn't show you the information, sorry I didn't tell you about Smith either before or after I met him."

He held is hands up to stop her from jumping on that.

"That's a conversation for later," he said. "Right now, why don't you head home and rest up for the morning. I do need to finish my – " he made a face. "Paperwork, before I head home. I notice from your leathers and helmet you drove your bike here."

"Yes, I did, why?"

"Just… I've never ridden a bike either as a driver or passenger, and it makes me a little nervous, so I'm not going to ask you to wait so I can bum a ride."

The laugh Kate barked was genuine.

"We'll have to remedy that sometime… After we work everything out."

Castle sighed inwardly. It seemed Kate was saying more than just an invitation to ride with her.

"That's a promise, Castle," she said, reading his mind. "We finish this case, and you take me through that hard drive, and we will still be there."

She picked up the helmet from the loveseat where she'd placed it when she came in and tucked it under her arm.

"Night, Castle."

"Until tomorrow, Detective."

Understanding the reference for what it was, the two smiled at each other and Kate turned and clunked back up the stairs.

Progress.

XXXXXX

Beckett was already at her desk when Castle arrived in the precinct the next morning – and from the looks of it, had been there for some time.

"Did you come straight here after you left the Haunt last night?" he asked, only half in jest. An affirmative answer would not have surprised him.

Kate smiled, grasping what he meant along with the coffee he brought, without needing it spelled out.

"Thanks for this," she replied, lifting the cup to her lips, savoring the vanilla on her tongue. She placed it on her desk and answered the writer.

"No, I did go home last night, Castle. I read a little, and even finished the glass of wine I'd poured before showing up at your bar."

She moved to rub her tired eyes, but remembered her make up just in time.

"Heat Rises?" he asked.

Kate laughed at that. She was planning on rereading that one, and must have mentioned it to him. He really wanted her to do it for some reason. Maybe he'd added to his autograph when he was at her place before… Everything happened.

Her smile faded a moment, but she forced herself to brighten as she answered him. She hoped he didn't notice.

"No, I pulled out an old textbook from my Academy days."

"Boring, Beckett!"

"That was the point, Castle," she laughed again at the horrified look on his face. "I wanted something to fall asleep to. Unfortunately, it didn't work too well. I tossed and turned all night. So I'm doubly grateful for this," she took another sip of her coffee.

Rick sat, inordinately happy that 'his' chair was still by her desk. He wondered what would have happened to it if they hadn't talked. Would Kate have left it there if another 'partner' came along? Or would she have brought it to a storage room and methodically taken it apart, pretending it was him she was dismantling?

Not worth the thought, Castle.

"Where's DI Hunt?" he asked instead.

"Break room," Kate replied. "I think he's psyching himself up for the interrogation."

Nodding, Castle asked, "Has Biggie Slim arrived?"

The ping of the elevator arriving answered that question. Ryan and Esposito escorted the self-described 'media mogul' into the bullpen.

Even though this was the second time he'd been brought in for questioning, the man seemed unconcerned, with a smug grin on his face.

"Put him in one," Beckett said to Esposito. "I'll get Hunt."

"Right," the two detectives ushered 'Biggie' down the hall to the interrogation room.

Kate stood, gathering her notes. She looked at Rick, who was rising as well.

"Castle…" she began, seemingly at a loss.

"Don't worry about it," he replied, reading what she was going to say in her face. "This is personal for Colin, and I haven't been involved the entire case. I'll watch from Observation."

She smiled.

"Thanks, Castle."

XXXXXX

"I want you to take a close look at this photo."

Beckett slid the photo across the table.

Biggie Slim gave it a passing glance.

"Yeah, I see," he said in a bored tone. "That's when paparazzi caught me and Nicki J coming out of the studio a couple of weeks ago."

"In fact, that is Nicki J's black SUV, isn't it?" the detective asked.

Colin Hunt was standing off to the side, listening intently, but letting Beckett take point on the questioning.

"Bought by Biggie Slim himself. Supply and demand. She demands, I gotta supply." He smirked.

"You know," Beckett continued, "the thing that I find intriguing is that before you became Biggie Slim your name was Darrius Young. Best known for launching several failed internet startups.

"But a man ahead of my time." Biggie Slim was still cool.

"Well the SEC thought you were a man trying to fleece investors," Hunt broke in.

Slim looked up at the man "See I was never charged for that," he said.

"One of your ventures," Beckett went on, "a music sharing website based in the UK caught the attention of authorities and when they tried to shut it down an aide to the Minister of Culture lobbied on your behalf. And do you know who that aide was?"

Slim was silent.

"Nigel Wyndham." Kate slid the photo retrieved from the locker across to the man. "In fact, this is Nigel stepping out of the very same black SUV."

Now Biggie Slim looked a little nervous as he leaned forward to look at the photo.

"No …" he said. "I don't think so."

"Why don't you take a closer look? Those are the same custom pinstripes on the door."

"It's just somebody else's truck with those stripes on there," he denied.

"Your driver already admitted that he drove you to this meeting outside the Consulate."

The 'discussion' went on for a few more minutes when Beckett dropped the fact that Biggie Slim had left a partial fingerprint on Naomi's body.

The large man deflated, knowing he wouldn't get out of this.

Beckett had one more question for the man.

"You know, the thing that I still can't figure out is why Uganda? Why would you care?"

"Man, it wasn't about Uganda," Slim answered. "It was just about the money. I didn't even know where Wyndham was shipping the stuff to."

The answer made her heart break for Colin Hunt. His former partner's daughter – a young woman more family than friend, died for money.

No, that wasn't quite right. She had died looking into her boyfriend's death, and even though she had been killed before finding the answers, she was the catalyst in bringing down a major weapons smuggling operation. Kate hoped the Naomi's family could take some comfort in that.

Beckett opened the door and beckoned Ryan and Esposito to come in.

Ryan handcuffed Biggie Slim, and the three began walking toward holding before Esposito finished reading the man his rights.

Colin looked at Kate.

"Let's go get Wyndham," was all he said.

XXXXXX

Wyndham had not gone quietly at first, snarkily asking Hunt and Beckett if getting thrown out of the Consulate wasn't enough for them.

Colin was seething when he told the soon-to-be former Deputy General his Ugandan friends wouldn't be able to help him this time, and arrested him for arms trafficking and abetting the murder of a British citizen.

That shut Nigel up, and he said nothing as Consulate security cuffed him and led him out to Beckett's waiting car.

XXXXXX

A couple of hours later, Hunt was helping Kate take down the murder board. Castle would have been here helping, but Kate had sent him home, citing Colin's need for closure.

"Her dad would have been proud," the DI broke the silence. "How brave she was, taking on these men. I still wish she hadn't done it."

Beckett nodded, This was one of the hardest and yet most satisfying parts of a case. Satisfying because the case was closed. Solved. Another one for the books.

But hardest, because in many ways, nothing changed. The victim was still dead, family and friends still mourning, and that part would never completely go away.

"So what happens now?" she asked. "Do you go back to DC?"

Colin paused in gathering his things.

"London, I'm afraid," he replied. "Face the music."

Kate smiled.

"You know, they should give you a commendation."

"Well, that is wildly improbable." He returned a self-deprecating grin.

He held out a hand.

"Well, Detective Beckett. It's been a true pleasure."

She smiled again, and took his hand and shook.

"The pleasure was all mine, Detective Inspector Hunt."

He stepped to the elevator, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Royal Eastern Airlines. It was time to go home.

Kate finished boxing up the evidence and took it down to Records. She looked at her own phone, thinking about what she should text Castle.

She had her own music to face.

"Detective?"

It was Captain Gates.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Good work on this case."

"Thank you, Sir."

Gates paused, looking at Kate critically.

"The last couple of weeks have been…" she began. "…Odd."

"Sir?" Kate didn't understand.

"Mr. Castle has been proving me right about him. It's… disconcerting."

"Sir, I…"

Gates held up a hand to stop Kate.

"I still don't know why you like him, I'm still not sure you couldn't do better without him. But, you do still seem to want him here. But I don't like his attitude lately. He's been better on this case, but if that doesn't continue, not even the Mayor can help him stay. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir, we're working it out."

"I'm glad to hear that. Detective, you're off as of now, and not on call for the next three days."

Kate's eyes widened.

"I want you and Mr. Castle to figure everything out. Professional and personal.

"Sir, there's nothing like that going on between us…"

"Maybe you could rectify that."

Kate's jaw dropped.

"Kate," Gates sighed. "That's one reason I never wanted him here. I thought for sure you were in a relationship. You both act like you are – or that you want to be. Figure it out."

She walked away, leaving Kate speechless.

XXXXXX

A/N 2: The case is finished, but the story isn't! It's getting close, though. One more chapter – or maybe two and we're done. Thank you for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)