The first month of summer passed slowly. It consisted mostly of Kate sitting at her desk, cracking the odd case and staring at a certain empty chair next to said desk. No one seemed to want to kill people in the summer, so as a result, she found herself doing a lot more thinking than she had originally planned.

She was pretending that it didn't bother her that he had taken Gina to the Hamptons and not her. She was wearing a mask every day of her life. After her talk with Lanie that night, the month before, she had closed herself off again. Only the ME knew how she really felt inside, but she wasn't trying to get her to talk about it anymore.

She hadn't heard from him or seen him since that day. It had been a month. She'd been left to deal with her own problems on her own for a month, and it was still killing her. She'd never fallen for someone as much as she'd fallen for him and now she wasn't sure she could get back on her feet.

"Yo, Beckett, we got a body," Esposito called from across the room. "Lex and third. You comin'?"

Kate sighed, holstering her gun. "Yeah, you drive."

Esposito's eyebrows shot up, his surprise completely evident. "You sure?"

"Yeah, go for it." She tossed him the keys to her Crown Vic.

"Thanks!" He ran off to the elevator, not giving her time to rethink her offer. She shook her head amusedly. He was like a kid in a candy shop when it came to cars.

Ryan came up behind her, making her jump in surprise. "Hey," he murmured, concerned. "You okay?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I'm good. Just not in the mood for driving today."

He furrowed his brow but didn't question her. Still looking worried, he rushed off to catch up with his partner.

It seemed Rick was having a stare-down with his laptop.

He had been sitting on the couch for an hour, trying to come up with words. Gina had been hounding him for a new chapter of the next installment of Nikki Heat, but his motivation was gone. It was torture for him to think of her, but without thinking of her, the books would not be finished. She basically was the books.

Once he'd allowed himself to try and pull ideas from the thought of his muse, his mind had kicked into overdrive. His brain was immediately filled with Kate. Her scent, her eyes, her hair, her touch. All things Kate. Everything Kate.

He was sure Gina had noticed by now. She must have. He'd been as mopey and pathetic as a lost puppy ever since they'd left the city and now, a month later, he hadn't improved. She wasn't stupid; she must have at least realized something was off. But she was too busy with her damn Blackberry, her work, to pay much attention.

He hadn't moved for a while, so when he stretched his legs out, it felt relaxing. He sighed and tried to close his eyes and welcome a kind of sleep, but he was startled by the shrill ringtone of his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ricky? It's Jasmine."

He remembered her fairly well. They'd met at a book party, not unusual for him, and had gone out for drinks once or twice. Nothing had blossomed from it, but a small friendship had been built.

"Jasmine, hey. How are you?"

"Bad, Rick. Listen. I kind of met this guy, and he's no good. He's out for me."

Rick was now sitting straight up on the couch, all thoughts of a nap forgotten.

"Out for you?"

"Yeah. He wants money or something, I don't know. Anyway…I need your help."

"Anything, Jasmine. What can I do?"

"I know you have a relationship with the NYPD…I just need you to use your skills you got from them and dig around for me. It won't be dangerous, I promise. I just need you to tap some phone records for me."

He nodded before realizing she couldn't actually see him. "Of course." He set his laptop down on the couch. "Do I need to be in the city for this?"

"That would make it easier."

"Great. I'm up in the Hamptons now, but I can be at your place in a few hours. Sound good?"

He heard her relieved sigh on the other end of the line. "That sounds great."

"Rick smiled, slipping out of the study and into the main foyer. "See you in a few, then."

"And Rick?"

"Yeah?"

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. "Thank you."

Two hours later, he was closer to the city than he had been in a while. Gina had understood that he had to help a friend, but she had added that if he wasn't back by the next morning she would "tie an angry monkey to his head, throw bananas across the room and see how it played out". He had cringed at that; she had always had a way with words.

I wonder what I'll be able to do, he thought absentmindedly. Tapping phone records was something he'd only seen Beckett—he felt a twist of emotion in his stomach—do a few times, so he didn't know much about it.

Effortlessly remembering the girl's address, he parked his car across the street and walked to the front door. The doorman, recognizing him, swung the glass door wide open with a broad grin and let him in.

Jasmine pulled him inside her apartment as soon as he knocked. Her eyes were shifty, scanning the hallway for any signs of life before slamming and locking the door behind them.

"My laptop's over there," she whispered quietly, pointing to the couch. Rick sat down and pulled it open, immediately opening a search engine just in case.

"He's been calling me non-stop," his friend explained, looking extremely anxious. "I would have already called the police, but the number's blocked and I'm not sure they'd be able to do anything."

He smiled sympathetically, and patted her shoulder. "Jas, you should have. They could have helped you much more than I can. In fact," he thought aloud, "I'm going to give my detective friend a call. She'll be able to help you, I promise."

She gripped his arm, suddenly frightened. "He'll find out. He'll hurt me."

Rick sighed, getting impatient. "Look, Jasmine, you're not telling me everything and I respect that. But I can't just tap into private phone records. I'm not a cop. I need to call my friends at the 12th. They can do that."

The woman relaxed her grip on his forearm and ran her hands through her hair. "Fine."

He pushed the number 2 button and waited. He would never tell her, but he had Kate on speed dial. Settling into the couch, he waited for her to pick up.

Kate took a long sip of her coffee. Lanie was perched on the edge of her desk, staring at her, waiting for her to finish so she could answer her question. She was purposefully avoiding sitting in his chair, as everyone else had.

She planted the cup back on her desk and sighed. "Lanie, I—"

Her cell phone trilled loudly, the song she'd set as his ringtone blaring through the precinct. She stared down at the screen, eyes wide and startled, and then looked back up at Lanie.

"Pick it up." The ME's eyes were alight with excitement.

"No." No way was Kate picking that up. She couldn't talk to him. She wasn't ready.

"Dammit, girl, you pick that up or I will."

Esposito and Ryan had both crowded around the desk too; now everyone was staring down at the phone like it had grown a set of teeth. "What's goin' on?"

"Kate's being a baby and won't pick up the phone to talk to the man she's in love with."

"Lanie!"

The other woman shrugged. "Hey, I'm just saying what you won't."

Kate sighed. "I'm not picking it up. If he cares that much he'll leave a message."

"Pick. It. Up."

"No."

"Yes!"

"I'm not touching it!"

"Pick up the phone, Beckett." Esposito and Ryan spoke at once, sending a creepy chill down the detective's spine.

"Ugh! Fine!" She made a grab for the phone, but never got the chance to answer it before the ringer shut off and an eerie silence filled the room.

Lanie sighed, exasperated, and patted her friend on the shoulder as she made her way out of the bullpen. Ryan and Esposito both shrugged, walking to their own respective desks.

Kate sat back in her chair and mentally smacked herself for leaving it so long. She stared moodily at the small black phone until she was called back into action.

Rick sighed. Either she was working a case and didn't want to pick up the phone, or she didn't want to talk to him.

"Okay. Do you have an address on this guy?" He turned to the woman next to him and she nodded.

"Yeah, here." She scribbled down a number and street name onto a slip of paper and handed it to him.

In his mind, he was debating whether or not he should go to the guy's place. If he went, he would just cause a fight. He knew that. But he cared about Jasmine, and no way was he letting someone get to her.

It was all he could do to go check it out. He wouldn't get hurt; being the expert of dozens of crime scenes, he knew how to handle things and had knowledge on his side. He'd just channel his inner Beckett—he stopped that thought right there. He couldn't think about her now.

He stood, leaving Jasmine on the couch as he grabbed his shoes and put them on. A look of confusion washed over her exotic features until the realization hit.

"You're not going over there."

"I am." Seeing the look of sheer panic cross her face, he added, "Because it's all I can do. I know how to work a crime scene, Jasmine. You think I've been following the cops around for the past year and haven't learned anything?"

"He's dangerous, Rick. If he sees you, if he finds out you went there, there is no doubt in my mind that he'll hurt you, or worse." She shuddered.

He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Jasmine, nothing is going to happen. I don't know what I'm looking for here, but maybe there's something I'll be able to see in his apartment that'll help me figure out why he's after you."

His friend was shaking, but she understood. "Rick, promise you'll call me as soon as you get out of there."

He smiled and nodded.

"I promise."

The alleyway was cold and dark. With the sunlight of the summer day long gone, the only light Castle had was that of his flashlight. There were trashcans lining the sides of the buildings around him, filling the air with a putrid stench.

He couldn't believe this was where the guy lived. Jasmine had always been so high-class, so civilized. It shocked him that she'd gotten involved with someone with this kind of lifestyle.

There were no stars out tonight. The brick buildings around him covered the moon, an eerie twilight falling over the area. For a summer night, it felt like it was freezing cold. He found himself suddenly wishing he had a coat.

Shining his small beam of light onto the walls of the structures around him, he read the brass numbers in his head. 308, 310, 312…

He glanced down at the slip of paper in his hand, where Jasmine had written the address.

314.

Rick took a deep breath. What the hell was he looking for, exactly? Some sort of magical clue that would tell him why a low-class shark was pestering a friend of his for money? How was this going to end well?

Ascending the steps to the front door of the apartment, a feeling of dread sank down onto his shoulders. As much as he'd promised Jasmine he'd be okay, could he really hold onto that?

Through the chilling silence, a single footstep rang out against the concrete. Castle spun around, and saw nothing more than a shadow in the dark.

Dunn dunn dunn...

Sorry, I had to do that :p I didn't get a lot of reviews on the last chapter (THANK YOU to whoever did leave a review, and to everyone who Favorited this or added it to their Story Alerts) so I'm hoping you'll be kind enough to leave more this time? I love to hear what people think of my work. :)