I want to hire you indefinitely, Detective Beckett, for however long it takes to rescue Alexis. Money is no issue; you can name your price... Just please say you'll help me... I believe you're my last hope."

She's thankful she's sitting down because the pleading in his voice makes her knees weak and she almost acquiesces right then and there, agreeing to help him, but she knows she needs time.

Christ, could she survive losing another child? ... How would he if Alexis doesn't make it?

"Well," she continues cautiously, "it sounds like both Mayor Weldon and Captain Montgomery are essentially on board and have already agreed to let me help you, but I do need a little time to think about it."

"Of course, I didn't expect an answer from you right away. I'm hoping to hear from you by the end of the week."

"Give me forty eight hours," but she already knows she doesn't need a couple of days.

Her heart's somehow already entwined with a deathly afraid, 16-year-old girl, and her broken father, with eyes the color of blooming blue peonies, and blessed with a gift of words that happened to save her wounded soul ten years ago.

Rick is just pouring his second cup of coffee while tending scrambled eggs in the skillet. His mind is not on breakfast though as he wonders if Alexis has already eaten this morning. He wonders if she's warm, if she's being confined today where she can't move, and if she's as frightened as he is for her well-being.

His mind wanders to the detective he met three days ago. The one with the sultry, soothing voice that's given him hope for the first time since Alexis was taken. There was a way about her, her hand lying softly on his arm that both quieted his nerves and gave him hope. He remembers being able to breathe deeply for the first time since the whole ordeal began.

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. It's soft, but with an intensity that indicates a person confident in their own abilities.

He hopes against all hope it's her.

He moves easily through the loft, navigating the obstacles of chairs and tables with ease. Opening the door, he's immediately swathed in the soft scent of cherries, confirming his initial thought.

"Good Morning, Detective Beckett. So good of you to stop by this lovely day. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Damn, his sixth sense is spot on if he knew it was her just by opening th door, and why did he have to look so fine first thing in the morning? ... And no, she's not acknowledging her body responding to the teasing charm in his voice.

"Hello, Mr. Rodgers," Kate responds, speaking softly, hoping he can't decipher through her tone just how she's feeling.

"Detective, I was hoping it was you."

His confession falls easily from his lips, completely without guile, and it's easy to tell it's nothing but the truth.

"Please come in. Welcome to my humble abode."

Rick steps to the side of the door, motioning into his loft for her to enter. Kate steps quickly inside and Rick closes the door quietly, not wanting to startle her or, in any way, make her feel uncomfortable. He steps back into the kitchen to attend to the eggs before they burn.

"You are sure welcome to take a look around while I finish cooking breakfast."

"Thank you, I will." she says while gazing around the loft in amazement.

His home looks like something out of the latest Jason Bourne movie.

Impressive, to say the least, especially for someone who has recently lost his eyesight.

On a desk in the center of the room is a full color, all-in-one printer / scanner / fax. A second scanner, which she guesses to be black and white, is alongside the all-in-one.

There are six high resolution touch screen monitors in a bank along one wall, all fitted with microphones for voice activation and optical character recognition. There are four computers, a couple of laptops and what appears to be a high capacity server / data storage system. All are on, operating silently in the background; the data received being logged automatically on the server, flashing lights evident on the server data buss.

With the speakers that adorn the walls between the monitors, it is apparent the entire system is designed to interface with the visually impaired, a fact that doesn't surprise her at all. She sees a high tech investigation center that would rival many small police jurisdictions, all assembled by this man, all just to bring his beloved daughter one step closer to being back in his arms.

Her heart breaks for this man who so dearly loves his daughter and has had her ripped from his embrace without any thought to him, or to Alexis herself.

"Please join me for breakfast. It's early so I'm sure this is your first stop. I have plenty. Eggs, fruit and the best coffee you'll find in the city."

Rick exhorts her to take a stool at the breakfast bar and relax for a few minutes.

"Coffee sounds wonderful."

"What's your choice of poison?" he asks with a child-lke grin. "I can make nearly anything you want."

Kate finally looks around the kitchen noticing the granite counter tops, high end stainless steel appliances and expensive pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. Her eyes light up once they fall upon the commercial grade cappuccino machine sitting on the counter.

Richard Castle is definitely no ordinary man.

"Can you make a skinny latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla? That happens to be my favorite 'poison'."

Rick smirks briefly when she says the word 'poison', secretly loving that she's parroting his words back to him.

"Paying attention, are you?" he responds.

"Now what kind of a detective would I be if I didn't listen to my employer?" She asks jauntily with just a hint of mischievousness.

His million-watt smile, which makes his eyes crinkle adorably, reflect what he's going to say next. "So, you've considered my offer and have decided to help me find my daughter? ... That's the best news I've had in months. How can I possibly repay you?"

"Oh, you'll get my bill," she says with a lilting laugh. "I don't come cheap and from the looks of this 'Command Center' it seems you can afford my measly salary."

"I'll happily give you whatever your heart desires if you bring my baby girl back to me."

God, this man's good.

She doesn't know what's happening to her, why it feels so completely natural to be inside his place, the ease with which her heart responds to his words.

To him.

She sits quietly as they eat their breakfast, sipping the heavenly coffee, loving how she can watch him unhindered without fear of being caught.

She's amazed with how easily he moves about the kitchen, opening and removing only the items he needs for the task at hand. If she didn't know any better, she'd never guess he was blind.

She notices how diligent he is in placing everything back in exactly the same location and placed in a specific manner. He's obviously adapted to his blindness with grace and humility. He seeks neither sympathy nor pity for his affliction, only acceptance. He's certainly no longer the playboy his Page Six persona implies.

This is a man who is so much more than what's been portrayed in the media. This is a man worthy of getting to know and it's easier than she'd thought it would be to admit to herself she'd like to learn more.

More about him in every single aspect.

Her eyes tear away from his blue orbs, skim down the protruding angle of his nose, over the stubble adorned chin, down the large Adam's apple and fall on the breadth of his chest, - wide, strong, muscular.

She'd normally find a man wearing a Batman T-shirt unattractive, childish even, but on him, it has the opposite effect. The larger than life comic book character emphasizes his broad pecs and massive guns, making her long to run her fingers along the hem of the shirt, research what lies beneath.

Hmm, research, - definitely something she needs to do with him.

Kate breaks the easy silence with, "Rick... May I call you Rick?"

"Of course."

"The latte is amazing. I may have to agree with you that I can get the best cup of coffee in the city right here. Could I impose upon you for another?"

"Certainly." Rick steps back to clear the island of the plates and silverware and then moves to make Kate another cup of coffee.

She's enthralled with the composure in his movements, especially with the obvious injury to his left leg. The limp doesn't deter from his masculinity though, only emphasizes his sexy gait even more, bringing a quick kick to her pulse.

Oh, how he affects her without even trying.

"Here, you go. Hope it meets with your approval." Kate brings the cup to her nose and inhales the rich aroma of the latte. He's a master at this.

I bet he's masterful at many other delightful things as well.

"I might keep you around after this just to make my coffee for me," she purrs.

"I just, - might stay."

He says the words in a lazy drawl which only heightens her awareness of him, makes her eyes fall to his granite-stone ass, making her wish they could've met under different circumstances.

The detective in her quashes the woman and reminds her why she's in her favorite author's loft in the first place... Alexis.

She takes a deep breath before delving in. "I need you to start from the beginning, Rick. When were you aware of Alexis' stalker? When did she start receiving texts? Gifts? Please tell me all you know or suspect about what has happened... Leave nothing out. Not even something you feel is insignificant, because just the slightest detail might be the triggering factor in finding your daughter."

His hands wrap around the coffee cup, fingers curling tensely, and those piercing blue orbs fill with apprehension, laced with agony, and she knows, before he even speaks, she's reopening a wound that might never heal.