A/N: Hey, look! A new chapter! And it's only... four... months... later. Well, that's embarrassing. However. It's done now. I very much hope that the next chapter won't take that long to finish. But this semester is already looking a bit intense, so I'm not gonna start making promises. Anyway. For the moment, let's focus on the fact that there IS a new chapter for you to read. So, go on. Read it. It won't bite. I promise. I guess I should stop typing now so you can actually do that.

When he awoke, she was still sound asleep on the bed beside him. His first thought was that in all of his various fantasies about waking up beside Kate Beckett, this situation had never occurred to him. It wasn't comfortable, as he'd always imagined it would be. There was no feeling of oneness. In fact, now, asleep beside her in the same bed, he felt more separate from her than he ever had. While asleep, they'd kept on opposite sides of the mattress, never coming close to touching. Even their unconscious minds understood that they weren't ready for this step.

He got out of bed slowly, being careful not to wake her. He knew that he'd gotten more sleep than she had through the night, and he wanted to let her catch up. Still, when he looked at the time he saw that it was already after ten, and, aware that she wouldn't be sleeping for much longer no matter what he did, he began making coffee.

The previous night had been a confused tangle of emotions. That much was inarguable. Maybe he'd been right. Maybe having her there beside him was what had kept him from having more of those unsettling dreams. But another thing he was sure about was that, no matter how platonic he claimed to himself that the sleeping arrangement had been, his feelings toward her didn't end there. It would've been easier if they did, but it was in the same way that it would've been easier if he could fly. If the coffee machine that he was loading could fill itself. If the hearing, now less than a week away, could resolve in Beckett's favor without her ever having to leave the Hamptons. These ideas were simply not fact, and pretending that they were wouldn't help. Nothing would change. He'd never move an inch. The coffee would never be made. And Kate would never again be Detective Beckett. Hard as it was to admit, sometimes stagnation could be just as dangerous as change.

He forced his thoughts to change courses. Now was not the time. He and Kate both still had miles to go before they'd be ready for the hearing, and it was already Tuesday. Something had to change. Maybe it was him.

The next time she wanted to talk about it, he was going to be ready. He'd go through the whole memory, everything that had happened in the alley that night, or at least as much of it as he could remember, by himself, before she even got out of bed. That way at least he could wrap his mind around everything, and then maybe when he heard her tell it he'd be able to support her, rather than making it even more difficult.

He crept back into the bedroom and took his notebook from the nightstand, being just as careful as before not to disturb her. He glanced at the bed on his way out, and she still seemed to be sleeping soundly. He closed the door noiselessly and went back to the kitchen.

He sat down at the table with his coffee and nodded at the blank page he opened to, surprised that he hadn't thought of this sooner. The empty page was fickle – it could be his best friend or his most bitter adversary. He couldn't count the number of hours he'd spent staring at a blank piece of paper or Word document, willing words to appear on their own, sure that they'd never come any other way. But then there were times when the words seemed to come without being asked. And when he was going through something difficult and didn't know who to turn to for help, the page was always there to help him collect his thoughts. No matter how hard he banged the keyboard or how many pens he broke, the page was always there. It might not have been sympathetic, exactly, but it was there. It would always listen. And sometimes that was all he needed.

He thought he'd start at the place where Beckett had stopped last time – or, rather, the place where he'd stopped her. When she'd stepped into the alley, leaving him watching from around a corner.

"Detective Beckett," Carson said, flashing his teeth in a brief but nauseating smile. "I was hoping you'd show up."

"Were you?" she asked, keeping her face blank. "I'm glad. Because I have a few things that I'd like to discuss with you."

"You know, I met you once before," he said, ignoring her comment. "I'm sure you don't remember. You were with your mother, out shopping. She was beginning to stick her nose in places where it didn't belong, and I was… keeping tabs."

I couldn't see her, but her voice registered clear disgust. "You stalked her before you had her killed?"

"'Stalked' is such an ugly word. I wouldn't put it quite like that. I just had to keep an eye on her. And I have to say, it wasn't unpleasant. She was a bitch, but she was hot. And then there was you. From the first time I saw you, I admired you. You have a strong will, and a nice ass."

I was more aware than ever of the gun in my hand. It was a perfect shot, straight to Carson, unobstructed. It would shut him up, and permanently. But as Carson had a weapon and an accomplice, it could also get the both of us killed. Still, I didn't like the way he was talking to her.

"Shut up," she said simply, too experienced to be shaken by a simple inappropriate comment. "If you can't answer my questions here, I'm gonna need you to come with me."

Again, he ignored her. "I wanted you, Kate. But the timing was wrong. I needed to remain hidden. But now…" He trailed off, his features slowly twisting back into that horrible grin. "This is my chance. My chance to finally get everything I always wanted. You could make it easier on yourself and give it to me voluntarily… but if you don't, I've always appreciated a struggle."

"You want a struggle?" she demanded, her voice full of that fierceness that sometimes comes when she's dealing with a difficult suspect. "I'll give you a struggle."

She lunged toward him, and I had to physically grab the side of the dumpster to stop myself from doing the same. There were two men with guns in the alley with her, I reminded myself. The second I let myself be visible, things would surely go south quickly. And they weren't exactly going well as it was. I was of more use to her here, hidden and armed.

Carson nodded to the other man, and, so quickly that I almost missed it, he somehow got behind her and grabbed her in a kind of chokehold, his arm wrapped around her throat. Under normal circumstances I'm sure she would have been able to evade him, but she was so focused on Carson that she hadn't seen this coming. She tried to push his arm away, but he was strong, and didn't budge. She growled, frustrated.

Carson smirked. "Good start. Your mother, she was much more reserved… proper. I like my women a little wild."

I wanted to shoot him. In fact, I'd never wanted to shoot anyone more in my life. Derrick Storm would've done it by now. Nikki Heat probably would've too. Detective Beckett… she looked like she probably would've shot him if she would've been able to reach her gun. But Richard Castle… Richard Castle was too preoccupied by the gun that the flunky was holding with the barrel pressed up against her lower back. If he shot Carson, what would stop this other man from shooting her?

"I have your list," she said, her voice low, but projecting so that Carson could surely hear her.

For a second, his grin fell. "What list?"

"The list of all the people you employ. All your infamous connections. It was in the wall there, wasn't it?" She tried to nod her head to indicate the place where we'd found it, but her range of motion was very small. "You let anything happen to me, and my partners will make sure it's all over the media."

The corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. "You really think I'd leave something like that out in the open?"

"Hidden in plain sight," she countered. "Pretty smart. No one would think it could be anything important. But it is, isn't it?"

"Important, yes," he said, his smile widening. "It got you here, to me. Thinking you could bait me. But in reality, I'm the one who baited you. Detective Beckett's last stand. I'll get what I've wanted from the first time I saw you… and you'll never leave this alley alive."

At this point, I'd heard enough. Maybe I couldn't shoot, but I still had my phone. Paying no more attention to what was going on in the alley, I speed-dialed Captain Montgomery and whispered into the phone, as fast as I could and as loud as I dared. I gave him our location and asked him to send help, and then tucked my phone back into my pocket.

"This would be a lot easier if you'd stop struggling," I heard Carson say as I tuned back in. "For you, I mean. I really couldn't care less. As I said, I like my women with a little… spark. Your problem, Katie, is that you always overestimate your own strength."

"It's Beckett," she cut in.

He ignored her, and continued with his monologue. "You're not weak, of course. But you believe yourself to be stronger than you are. You think you're superhuman. Wonder Woman." His face twisted into an ugly grin. "Nikki Heat."

"Do you ever shut up?" she demanded.

Carson ignored her, but his assistant tightened his hold on her throat and I could hear her gasping, trying to fill her lungs with air. It took everything I had to keep from bursting into the alley. I aimed the gun she'd given me, seriously considering shooting. I aimed first at Carson, the one who I knew that Beckett would have me aim for, the one who'd ordered the hit on Johanna, and had done the same to so many other people. But I couldn't seem to pull my gaze away from the other man. From the bit of a side view that I had, I could see that she was fighting against him less now. She was still trying, but it was slower now, and her breath was coming in gasps, fighting against the pressure of his massive arms against her throat and chest. This was the man who I really wanted to shoot. I aimed at him… but what if I missed? What if he moved at the last second?

As soon as the horrible possibility that I might accidentally hit Kate occurred to me, my hand started to shake. And then I knew that I couldn't shoot. I couldn't. It would be too much of a risk.

"Freeze!"

The word echoed through the alley, bouncing off the solid brick walls. Cops started streaming in from all directions. At the time, I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought that what I'd done, making that call, had saved her. But now…

As he drew a shaky breath, he was aware of the aroma of coffee, coming from somewhere much closer than the kitchen, where he'd left the pot brewing. All too willingly he took his eyes away from the notebook page, and saw one of his mugs, full of the hot, brown liquid, set on the table just behind it. He followed the inevitable conclusion and continued to lift his head until his eyes locked with hers.

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Couple minutes." She drummed her long fingers against the side of her own coffee mug. "I'm surprised you didn't hear me sit down."

"Well, I was… writing," he explained. All the words seemed to be trapped somewhere between his brain and his pen. Suddenly, forcing any through his mouth seemed a momentous feat.

"Can I ask about what?"

There was something in her eyes, something about the way she was looking at him, that gave him the feeling that she'd guessed. So rather than trying to conjure a verbal response, he simply nodded.

She bit her bottom lip and gave her own nod, her own silent sign of acknowledgement. She swirled the coffee around her mug before taking a sip. When she put it down, she gestured to the notebook. "May I?" she asked.

He shifted in his seat. He'd never intended for her to read it. But he'd never intended for her to read anything in his notebook, and that hadn't exactly worked out. If she read it, then at least he wouldn't have to explain what he'd been doing. Without a word, he slid it across the table.

A/N: That IS kind of a cliffhanger. So I'll try not to leave you there for too long. :) Anyway. Reviews are awesome. If nothing else, then at least to let me know that there are still people reading after that rather extensive and unplanned hiatus. :P Thanks, as always!