AN: Thanks to everyone who has added this story to alerts and favourites, I'm a little astounded by the number of you. It's awesome. I'm hoping you're enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I feel like the pace of this story is moving really slowly but I'll be working towards resolving it within the next couple of chapters (I think). Let me know what you think!

Chapter Eight

With that, he gently withdrew his hand and nudged her towards Alexis. "Go. Detect."

Beckett and Alexis were hit with an overwhelming sense of frustration as they stood in the precinct elevator waiting for it to slowly descend.

"C'mon, c'mon," Alexis mumbled over and over again under her breath. Beckett settled for impatiently tapping her hand against the wall, willing it go faster. Neither women were met with success for their efforts, the elevator continued to function at the same tedious pace it had for many years. Funnily enough, Beckett had never noticed it so acutely as she did during this trip. It was painfully slow, literally. She was filled with an increasing dull ache in her heart that – if the expression on Alexis' face was any indication – meant that the feeling was mirrored in the girl. Finally the elevator reached their desired floor and contrary to her feelings during the descent, Beckett was almost hesitant to step into the lobby and what fate they might discover had befallen her partner. On the other hand, Alexis nearly tripped in her haste to get through the opening doors. Beckett changed her tack, pushed her hesitation aside and plunged after Alexis, into the lobby and out onto the street.

As they attempted to retrace Castle's route, Beckett was reminded that Alexis was every bit her father's daughter. She had a penchant for picking up on the little details that could make or break a case. Beckett was shocked to find that in her own way, Alexis reminded her of herself somewhat as well – in a more tangible way than just the connection to the man they loved. Alexis was fiercely determined and somewhat stubborn. She also had a knack for detecting; she noticed the nuances of human behaviour. Beckett couldn't help but wonder if she had children with Castle would they resemble Alexis? Oh god, the inappropriate timing of her thoughts wasn't lost on her. The day Castle is missing is the day she really chooses to mull over the future. She understood the basis behind it though, the thought of never getting the chance to be with him forcing her to confront the idealised future with him. She really needed to change her reality, the thoughts of forever with Castle taunting her whilst the actuality of it seemed to move further away.

Alexis jolted to a stop beside her and Beckett froze, trying to ascertain what small but significant detail she had obviously noticed.

"There," Alexis pointed. They had just walked past a small Laundromat and there was a video camera mounted on the back wall. It had a clear view of the inside of the establishment, and if Alexis was right, a not too obstructed view of the sidewalk out the front.

"Let's hope he stuck to this side of the road," Beckett mused, before calling Ryan and Esposito and ensuring that they contacted the owner and secured the footage. Whilst Beckett was on the phone, Alexis had wandered further down the street. She waved wildly, procuring Beckett's attention and gestured to an ATM on the opposite side of the street.

"Another camera maybe," she mouthed. Beckett nodded and gave her a thumbs up – which seemed cheesy, contrite and somewhat out of character, but given the circumstances she didn't fully feel like herself.

Being city streets, there were masses of different bits and pieces of things on the sidewalk and in the gutter. However, there was nothing that obviously screamed Richard Castle murdered, like a pool of blood or signs of a struggle. Obviously he would have struggled, unless it had been someone he knew. But knowing Castle, who would wish him harm? Other than Beckett herself during his innately annoying moments. Even those were fewer and further between these days, now she found those moments oddly endearing. This wasn't such a shock; love has a funny way of helping you accept – not merely overlook – the flaws of the object of your affection. If Beckett was honest with herself, she was smitten, head over heels in love Richard Castle. The only thing that annoyed her about him in this moment was the fact he wasn't there. He was…somewhere, still alive she willed it to be truth, and hopefully dwelling on her as much as she was dwelling on him.

They continued to scour Castle's route and found only one other camera before the one in the lobby at the loft, both of which Beckett ordered the boys to procure. With that, she and Alexis walked back to the precinct, taking a slightly varied route, just to be sure.

As they made their way back into the homicide department to see what the boys had gotten from the security footage Beckett's phone burst to life and the caller ID startled her momentarily and she froze. Alexis' gasp beside her jolted her back to reality and she answered the call without further hesitation.

"Castle?"

X-X-X-X-X-X

Castle let out a yawn. As uncomfortable as he was, the emotional trauma in conjunction with the evident drugging he had received earlier today was exhausting. He just wanted the madwoman to leave for night so he could concentrate on escaping and get home to bed. His warm, comfortable bed, the only addition to the heavenly image – his detective snuggled in beside him, a content smile on her lips. She'd practically given him permission to fantasize about her, and this was the fantasy that sprung to mind – blissful sleep wrapped up tightly in one another. That was what Castle wanted more than anything else in that moment. He yawned again, trying to make his drained demeanour obvious to the madwoman. The conversation had fizzled, and he used the term conversation lightly in the first place. She seemed to pick up on his not exactly covert hints. She pulled a small blanket from the bottom of the picnic basket and draped in across his practically bare legs.

"Time for bed, darling. Sit tight and I'll be back first thing in the morning with a very special surprise for you. Well, for us, really," she clarified – not that it cleared anything up from Castle's perspective, none of this insanity was for him. With that, she gave another of her sloppy cheek kisses that Castle was becoming all too well aquatinted with for his liking and exited. He was left alone in the sullen room, candles still eerily burning. He hadn't planned on actually sleeping, but the excitement of day along with the drugging had left him dopey and docile. Moments after the madwoman left, the adrenalin that had been powering him subsided and he drifted into a fitful sleep. His last thoughts were that he would escape after taking a quick nap to recharge.

He dreamed of Beckett, it wasn't out of the ordinary, she often frequented his dreams. This was different though, he was more desperate for her, it wasn't the usual content dream of dating then marrying her, all he wanted was to ravish her. But, despite his best efforts, he couldn't find dream-Beckett anywhere; she was missing when he wanted her the most. Consequently, his dream provided little respite and he tried to pull himself away from it and back to consciousness several times over the course of the night, without tangible success. At one stage, he pried an eye open to a blurry image of his madwoman captor creepily watching him sleep. He shrugged his mind clear of it, convinced it was a part of his dream, he cried out for Beckett before lapsing back into a deeper sleep.

Little did he know that the image of the madwoman watching him sleep was not a fragmented part of his dream. She had returned mere hours after leaving, just to watch over her beloved's sleeping frame. She was not amused by the picture before her. More than once as her lover slept he called out another woman's name – Beckett – over and over again, his tone dripping with desire. The only variation of this was a pitiful, Kate, he murmured just once, with a sigh on his lips. The madwoman was not happy to say the least. She had specifically asked him to drop the Kate Beckett thing and he had sworn to her that he would. But obviously something was going on between Richard Castle and his muse and she was intending on doing something about it.

She left Castle to his fitful slumber and drove several miles from the abandoned office building. She'd seen enough CSI, she knew how it was done, how to evade the stupid cops. She was obviously proficient at it. After all, she stolen Richard Castle from the street with ease and now he was at her every beck and call. He was all hers, she greedily considered, elated at the thought. She drove to a rather derelict street, deep within the city and dug around in her bag for Castle's phone. She withdrew it, found the number she was seeking and dialled, pressing the phone to her ear with a menacing –

"Back off!"