Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series, the Heat series, the Storm series or any of the characters. Forgive me, Terri?

"What do you mean, yours?" Nikki asked, unsure of what Storm means.

"I mean, the bullet came from my gun," he said calmly.

The three detectives frowned. "So, you did it?" Nikki asked, having no trouble whatsoever believing that Storm killed these people. "Is this a confession?"

"No," he said, laughing, "nothing like that. It means that whoever did this had access to my gun. And there are only four people I can think of that have that," he said.

"And who would that be?" Nikki asked smartly, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, me, Agent Jones, Agent Garcia…" he frowned, and then finished, "and you."

"Agent Jones left a number with us," Ochoa said, searching through his wallet for the card.

Storm snapped. "It isn't Agent Jones, I'm sure of it. Agent Jones wouldn't do this."

"Okay, why don't you try to contact Agent Garcia, then?" Ochoa asked.

Storm smiled sadly. "I think your ME would do that better, considering that she's in her fridge," he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh," said Ochoa. His voice was small as he realized that Agent Garcia was the dead woman. "So that means…"

Storm smiles. "And it wasn't me."

Immediately, a great fanfare broke out among the detectives. "How dare you accuse me of murder, Agent Storm! How dare you!"

Similar things were spat, as well as opposites. Soon, the room had split into three clear sides to the argument. In one corner of the triangle of death was Heat, backed by Ochoa, who believed that Storm was the killer. In the second corner was Raley, backed by Lauren, who believed that there was a perfectly logical explanation for this. And third, there was Storm, who believed it was Nikki.

And in the middle stood Rook, eyes closed and hands over his ears.

"Well, reporter boy?" snapped Ochoa, glaring at Nikki's 'partner.' "Going to choose a side anytime soon?"

Rook bit his lip. "Well, I don't think it was Storm," he says cautiously, not bothering to look at Ochoa's flaming nostrils. He closed his eyes, and began to finish his sentence slowly. "But I don't think I agree with Raley, either."

The group stood in silence as the words slowly sunk in.

"What the hell? Rook, you don—don't actually think it was me, right?" asked Nikki, eyebrows raised. "Right?"

"Well…" Rook trailed off. "I just… it just…" he trailed off.

"What?" Nikki asked sarcastically, her voice flailing at the odd tone.

Finally, Rook had a little courage. "I'm not implying you killed these people, Nikki. It just seems a little suspicious that you were sleeping for twelve hours. That's all."

Nikki sighed, and she put her face in her hands. "No. You shouldn't have the right to be suspicious of me!" she snapped.

Rook scoffed loudly. "I shouldn't have the right? I shouldn't? Dear God, woman, can't you hear yourself? Nikki, all I've done is stand by you. For four years I have stood by you, not blinking twice when you'd call, but getting in the car and coming."

"Why?" Nikki snapped, standing up and glaring at him. "Why have you stood by me, if all you're going to do is betray me?"

Rook's nostrils flared and he took a deep breath. Now or never, he thought to himself. "Because I'm in love with you!" he exclaimed.

Before anyone could react, Rook stormed out of the precinct, jabbing his thumb into the close door button, so that Nikki couldn't get a word out before he was gone.

And he didn't intend to come back.

Richard Castle threw the pen down in exasperation. The story wasn't supposed to go like this! Rook and Heat weren't supposed to fight, not on paper!

Paula had been after him for weeks to get his new book, Heat Storm, but he hadn't been able to get it right.

And now he was up against the deadline, with nothing in his mind except the light in Kate Beckett's eyes as the fire in her mind extinguished.

He had replayed the exchange in his mind over and over again.

"Oh, Kate. Shh. Kate, please. Stay with me, Kate. Don't leave me, please. Stay with me, okay?"

And then the words had flooded.

"Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate."

And they wouldn't

stop

running.

"It's all WRONG!" he exclaimed aloud, knocking the papers off of his desk.

He saw the door open a bit, and Martha stuck her head in. "What is it, Richard?" she asked, her voice just a little too soft for her standard tone.

"The book isn't writing itself," he said, pouting like a child.

Martha came in, fluttering her hands before her torso. "There, there, Richard. It's okay," she said, hugging him like a mom. She stroked his hair, just like she used to do when he was a baby. "That darned book, it better get writing soon!" she joked.

Richard half chuckled, but really, he looked at the pages strewn around himself. The page on top was from his second chapter, and through the bleariness of sleep he read, "They rode through the city of New York merrily, pretending that no one else in the world existed. And, for just a moment, for the two lovebirds, no one else did."

Suddenly, a small smile adorned Richard Castle's face.

"Mother, I think I may just have the ending."

Martha smiled. "Oh, good! I knew you'd get it!"

Richard smiled back at his mother as he began to collect the strewn pages. As he piled them back up, a picture frame fell off his desk, and he picked it back up. It was a picture of him and Kate on his first day in the precinct. He coughed softly, closing his eyes.

"Oh, Richard," Martha said, and she took the picture from him, propping it up. Then, she smiled, one of her I-have-an-insane-yet-possibly-brilliant-idea smiles, one that brought out the enigmatic Richard Castle that everyone loved, hiding away the Richard Rodgers that held the emotion.

"I know what will make it all better!" he said, looking at his mom.

"Oh no," she said, a look of mock scorn in her eye.

He smiled devilishly again. "Smiley face pancakes?"

I know that was sappy as hell, but I can't resist a cute chapter-ender :)