Kate had called the nurse after that, forcing Castle to take his medication. She knew he needed them, since he'd kept cringing in pain throughout their board game, and then when they'd just cuddled up and talked. He'd tried to hide it, and failed.

Now he was passed out, his mouth hanging just a little bit open and his hands gripping the sheets. She was curled around him, twirling a single finger through his hair and watching him sleep.

Alexis had poked her head in knowingly, whispering that she was going home for a bit to get some 'real sleep'. She'd winked and left, leaving them to their own private moment.

Martha had come and gone, having a slightly more over-dramatic reaction to the new relationship, mostly consisting of "I told you so!"s and "Darling, welcome to the family!", making Kate blush furiously. As much as it seemed awkward to admit it, she loved being called a part of the Castle family, even if it was a little premature.

Even the guys had come in after a little while, catching the pair cuddled up on the bed. Meriting raised eyebrows and Ryan slapping his partner in the back and whispering "You owe me thirty bucks", they'd sat and talked as if nothing out of the ordinary, or what had been previously unordinary, was going on.

Extracting herself from his strong arms, she climbed off the bed and slipped into her boots. Her coffee deprivation was really starting to kick in, so she figured a trip down to the Starbucks wouldn't hurt.

Once she had her skinny vanilla latte in her hand, she stepped out of the shop and started to make her way down the street when she saw a flash of metal in one of the side alleys. There was a man there, tall, bald and menacing, and a woman stood in front of him, blocking him from leaving. Kate had never seen the man before, but the woman…she had raven black hair, and her MiuMiu purse stood out like a birch tree in a forest of elms.

Jasmine.

Jasmine Riverson was her full name, as she'd gathered from her drowsy and slightly loopy partner before he'd passed out on her. ('Gathering' was more like 'poking and prodding until he spits something suffice out' in this case, but still.) She was a rich woman from Uptown, and no one had any clue how she'd gotten herself mixed in with someone like Rock. And that, Kate guessed, was exactly who was standing there against the brick wall.

It was as inconspicuous as could be, she thought. Meeting in broad daylight, where everyone could see but no one could suspect a thing. Or maybe this wasn't a meeting; maybe this was a full out confrontation, something unplanned and very, very dangerous.

As always, she had her gun hidden away in her purse. Her hand immediately found it and she pulled it out, eager to stop trouble and get this guy for good.

If she had been on duty, she would have called out "Police!" or "NYPD!" But she wasn't on duty, and this wasn't an official working arrest, so she used every inch of her body to stealthily glide across the road and get behind the bald man.

The voice in the back of her head told her to bring her gun down over the back of this guy's head. She'd done it before and she'd do it again. It would knock him clean out and he wouldn't hear her coming. Raising her gun above her head, she cringed as the one thing she hadn't counted on happened.

"Oh my God!"

Faster than she could think, Kate was spun around and smashed against a wall. He head collided with the brick and she felt herself go dizzy with pain, her vision suddenly dotted with black spots. She tried to shake it off, but two hands were clamped down onto her wrists so hard that her blood circulation was getting cut off. She couldn't move. She was trapped.

"Damn it, Jasmine," she grumbled quietly. The rich woman looked slightly sheepish, but fear overpowered everything else on her face, every other emotion. The poor lady was terrified, but whether of Kate or of this man was undetermined.

She was apologizing with her eyes, she realized. She was apologetic, but since she couldn't speak it, she communicated with the only things she could.

Then Kate snapped back into reality, where she was currently pushed up against a wall in an alleyway, by one of the scruffiest, dirty scumbags she'd ever encountered. He reeked of bleach and other chemicals, and his eyes darted around faster than Kate was used to seeing in criminals. He was off it.

"NYPD. Take your hands off me." There was no tremor in her voice as she'd feared there might be. She was calm, cool and collected; she was tough.

"I said take," her voice lowering, "your hands…"

She twisted around in his grasp and flipped them over, so that his face was pressed up against the bricks and his hands were behind his back. He grunted as his teeth collided with the stone surface. It probably hurt like hell, but he deserved it.

"Off of me."

She reached for her cuffs, which were usually in her back pocket, but they weren't there. Sure enough, she could see them glinting just above the leather of her handbag. She cursed.

"Shit. Jasmine, hand me that."

The woman remained still.

Her eyes narrowed. "Jasmine, give me the bag."

"You're going to arrest me."

"No, Jasmine, I'm not. Of course I'm not. But you need to give me the cuffs, okay?" She outstretched her hand and made gestures similar to those of someone trying to convince a mental patient to put down that knife.

"You're lying."

Kate sighed, repositioning her hands so that one of them still kept a firm grip on the hopped-up crook's hands and the other was free. "Just kick it over here, will you?"

Jasmine shook her head. She began walking towards the busy Manhattan street. "I'm sorry, Kate," she said quietly, her voice almost completely overpowered by the rush of the city. "I'm so sorry."

And then she turned on her heel and ran, dodging taxis and Mercedes Benzs and people and dogs, and disappeared out of the detective's sight.

She let out a frustrated sigh. Why hadn't she knocked this son of a bitch out when she'd had the chance? She'd been right there. If she hadn't been thinking so hard, he would be out cold, handcuffed and Jasmine would be…not where she inevitably was now. Telling her little criminal friends all about the small little detective that had their leader pinned up at gunpoint.

She had options laid out in front of her. She could, only for a second, release this dirt bag's hands and make a dive for her purse, grabbing the cuffs. She might just have time to jump back and catch him again before he ran off. It was risky, but it could work if she was fast enough. Or, she could reach back with her free hand and grab her phone, call Esposito and Ryan down to the alleyway and have them tie this guy up. But who knows how long she'd be sitting there holding him to a red mud wall if she did that. It could be forever. It could start to rain, or she could get hit by lightening, or his buddies could be alerted to his disappearance by that stupid prissy Jasmine and come after her. She could be sealing her own death trap.

Then, there was the last option. She could still knock him over the head with her gun, rendering him unconscious. It would be unethical, it would feel wrong and terrible, but it was her safest bet. It was the plan with the most certainty.

She knew what she had to do. She had to try. Using her peripheral vision, she stepped towards her bag and quickly removed her hands from the man's wrists. She hoped he was still disoriented enough from his little encounter with the flat rock surface to not move when she let go.

Of course, reality never goes as planned.

The second Kate pried her eyes away from him to locate her handcuffs, he was off down the alleyway, sprinting for his life. And damn, was he fast. He was toned, he was tough, he was hardcore.

And about two seconds later, he had a bullet hole in his right leg.

It was all she could do. Let him get away? Let the man that had shot her partner, the person she loved, get away with an almost-murder? Not a chance. It wasn't going to happen. So she'd cocked the safety off and took a shot.

At that point, she hadn't cared where it hit. It could have hit him in the head, the hip, the arm, the chest…or the leg, where it had ended up. It had been a blind shot, taken out of rage and angry confusion.

She was still pissed when she approached him a moment later, clipping his hands behind his back and ripping a strip of his cotton shirt off his chest. She tied it around his thigh, applying pressure. He deserved justice, not death.

She was calling Esposito and Ryan and Lanie and the Captain before she even had time to think. Her body was on autopilot. As she heard the sirens screaming down the pavement, saw the feet of her friends and coworkers rushing towards her, all she wanted to do was be in Castle's arms. She wanted to hear what witty remark he had for her. He would have loved to see her work so quickly in such a case.

She boxed the criminal over the head once for good measure and vengeance as he was led into a waiting cruiser. Just as she did so, her cell rang again. It was – speak of the devil – none other than Richard Castle himself.

"Hey," she answered happily. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just woke up and you were gone. And I'm not happy about it."

Kate laughed. She could just imagine him sitting in his hospital room, pouting his life away. "I went to go get some coffee, and ran into a small…dilemma. I'm okay," she added as she heard his mouth open. "Seriously. I am. I have to go down to the station for a bit – " She looked to Esposito for confirmation of this, and he nodded " – But when I'm done I'll come back, okay?"

She could imagine his smile, as boyish as ever, on the other end. "Okay. I'll let you do your job. But you are so telling me what happened after."

She chuckled. "Calm down there. You know I would never keep it from you."

Sorry for the wait on this. I was stuck for the longest time.

Tell me what you think! I love hearing thoughts, and it helps me know if there's even still interest at this point.