A/N- Thanks for all of the great reviews and comments about this story. Kudos to those of you who spotted the NF Easter Egg. There's another in this installment. Hope you enjoy it.

The Commitment

Chapter 2

Of Coffee and Super Heroes

"The dude is into something he shouldn't be." Esposito backed his rolling desk chair another foot and expertly shot the wadded up piece of paper into the trash can he and Ryan had set out. "Two, count 'em, two," he waved two fingers at Ryan, "more points."

Ryan grimaced and backed his chair up even with his partner's. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." He aimed and then turned to Espo, "Man, you don't really believe that, do you?" He tossed his paper basketball and muttered, "Dammit," as it skittered under his desk.

"I don't know what to believe. I mean the dude attaches himself to our squad for," he made air quotes with his fingers, "research and we can't get rid of him and now, with whatever he's up to, we can't even find him?" He backed up again and shot. "That's two more."

Ryan shook his head and said, "I think we should take him at his word. I don't think he's doing anything illegal…"

Espo cut him off, amused, "Maybe immoral." Ryan smiled, his Irish eyes sparkling as he and his best friend performed a complicated fist bump. They both liked Castle. They liked his lifestyle. They liked hanging out with someone with his lifestyle. It would never happen on a cop's salary. Sometimes they took too much delight in knocking his ego down a peg, but generally, they liked having a guy around who happened to be a best-selling author who also happened to bring all of the perks such status enjoys. Especially the Ferrari, oh, and the Knicks tickets.

"Maybe we should follow him." Esposito said, fishing for his partner's opinion.

Ryan shook his head, "Nah," he aimed again and made it. "Woo hoo! No, I don't think we should get involved with that."

"Involved in what?" Beckett came back to her desk from the records room with a stack of files. She turned to see them hastily picking up paper balls off the floor, and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, can't you find something useful to do? Maybe you should get involved with whatever you were talking about."

"Um, we were wondering about Castle?" Ryan approached her desk as if she were his favorite teacher.

She scowled, "What about him?" Ryan retreated.

"Beckett, where is he?" Espo's curiosity was killing him. It's part of what made him a great investigator.

She regarded him. If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she had wondered the same thing. "Tell you what; if he comes in today, why don't you just ask him."

"If he comes in." Espo walked back to his desk, sat down and spun in his desk chair. She turned her attention back to the files.

"Wow." His smooth baritone startled her out of her concentration. She hadn't noticed him come in, sit down or even the coffee he placed on her desk. "What are you reading? It must be fascinating."

"Hey Castle, yeah, sorry, it is actually. Cold cases."

"Any likely candidates for our expertise?" At her look he quickly added, "Well your expertise and my, uh, my wild and inappropriate theories?"

"Well, yeah, actually. There is a couple." Her voice trailed off. She looked up at him and reticently asked, "So, where have you been?"

"Beckett," he began as he squinted, "why is it so important? I told you it was book stuff."

"I don't know, Castle, it's just, well you're here all the time and now, you're not. I just m-"

He sat up straighter in his seat. "Missed me?" His face instantly transformed. It was a mixture of delight, joy, and mischief.

"No," she said, scowling, "I just mean that I don't know what to make of it. You're kind of keeping whatever you're doing to yourself and you never do that Castle, you pretty much share everything." She released the rest of her breath and stole a glance in his direction.

He was not buying it. She could tell because of the shit-eating grin threatening to burst onto his lips. Up until then it was only pulling the corners of his mouth up and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Why can't you just admit that you missed me? That you enjoy having me around. That I bring a certain quality to the investigations."

"Holy crap, Castle, did you get a little ego boost today? Was she a blonde or a brunette?" She immediately regretted her words and wished she could pull them back into her mouth. What was it about him that made her spout disdain uncontrollably? She could usually filter her thoughts, but when they traded verbal jabs, she couldn't ever see that line. The one she continually crossed. The casual observer would not have seen the flicker of hurt cross his face, but she did. "Oh. Castle, I, I didn't mean anything-"

"It's okay Detective." He used her title. Kate knew this was deliberate. It was his way of distancing himself from her taunts. He regarded her, the effect of her thoughtless words still evident in his eyes. "Let's take a look at one of those cases."

They worked the cold case all morning. Their approach was to treat the murder that happened over a decade ago as if it were fresh. They set up a murder board and timeline. The challenge was the evidence. Nothing was fresh; they had to go on written witness statements, as most people's memories became unreliable after a relatively short period of time. The case they picked to work was the murder of a young man named Harold Jordan. It had been attributed to gang violence, but that didn't sit right. It didn't fit his story. Castle dove right in, fascinated by the challenge and piecing together a puzzle where they didn't have all the pieces. Kate observed him, considering all aspects, creating a story from the evidence and conjecture. The twenty-two year old had never been in trouble, didn't have a rap sheet, had just graduated and begun a new job. Nothing to indicate any ties to gangs or gang violence. He poured over the family members and friends' statements and made notes.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I'm going for some coffee and to stretch my legs. Do you want some?"

"No, thanks. I'm going to call Jordan's roommate."

He knew that would still be a difficult conversation, so he offered, "I can stay, if you'd like, and wait."

"No, Castle thanks. I've got it."

"Okay, find out if he ever went by the nickname: Hal." She stared blankly at him. "Oh come on, Jordan? Hal can be short for Harold. Hal Jordan? Ya know, the Green Lantern, Hal Jordan?" Jeez, Beckett, you disappoint me." He stood up shaking his head.

"Hal Jordan A.K.A. Green Lantern was DC. Clearly the inferior comic publishing organization," she deadpanned.

His eyebrows shot up but then he clutched his hands over his heart. "You wound me, Beckett." He grabbed his jacket and headed to the elevator, feigning injury and death until the doors closed.

He jogged down the steps of the precinct, thinking about the morning, it was eleven. He turned left, headed toward the little coffee shop just down the block. It was a newer place, but Rick had been attracted to it because of its name. When it opened, besides being a place to try coffee, he just had to meet the owners who had named their coffee shop 'The Mugging' because of its close proximity to the precinct. The coffee turned out to be good and the owners, a married couple, John and Sharon Donnelly, were salt of the earth type of people. Great characters with a terrific sense of humor.

He opened the door and his presence was announced with a jangling of bells. John looked up from the espresso machine he was cleaning. "Hey Sharon," he called to his wife, "our long lost writer is back." He grinned at Rick, extending his hand. Rick readily shook it as he returned his smile.

John's wife poked her head out of the back room. "I'll be right out." She was operating the roaster.

Castle asked, "How are things going? Looks like you've found customers." He was nearly tackled as Sharon came from the back room and gathered the writer in a bear hug. Rick returned her embrace and breathed in the heavenly scent of roasted coffee beans.

John made a face, "Oh man, stop smelling my wife," He winked and broke into a grin.

"Can't help it. A beautiful woman throws herself at me and smells like coffee? I don't think I could pass that up."

John moved back behind the counter. "Your usual?"

Castle pressed his lips together as he considered, "yeah, thanks, that'll be great." He looked around the shop. It was simple and clean. The coffee shop was small but attractively decorated with knick-knacks, personal family photos, and rustic signs with witticisms. Rick's favorite: 'Unsupervised Children Will be Given a Double Espresso and a Kitten' There were a few other patrons populating the tables and booths, but not as bustling as the coffee shop's rush hours; between five and eight in the morning and right around two p.m.

John spoke as he fixed Rick's latte. "Things are good. I can't believe how much coffee we go through." At Castle's questioning eyebrows he added, "It's not a bad thing, just wow."

"New Yorkers like their coffee," Sharon said as she came back from bussing a table. "Thank goodness it's a legal drug."

Castle chuckled as John handed him his coffee. He lifted it in salute. "Here, here." He brought the cup down to his mouth, breathed in the robust aroma, smiled, and took a cautionary sip. "Perfect, thanks."

John nudged Sharon and acknowledged Castle with a sideways nod, "Case in point."

Sharon admonished him, "Leave him alone, we don't want our only famous patron to find somewhere else to get his fix." Her eyes were dancing and her smile spilled sunlight to the entire shop.

The door jangled again and Castle glanced in the direction of the sound. He sputtered the sip he just took and said, "Susannah, what are you doing up town?" He moved toward her and gave her a hug.

"Oh, Rick! I didn't expect to see you today. I had some business with the library," she said with a grin.

"Have you been in here before?"

"No, I'm not usually in this neck of the woods."

"Well, Susannah, this is John and Sharon," he indicated the baristas, "Donnelly. They own the joint and keep my caffeine addiction in check. They're great and so is their coffee. John and Sharon, this is Susannah Hamilton. She's a special needs teacher, an inspiration and a super hero to me and several of my friends."

She ordered and said, "drink your coffee, Rick. I think you really need some of that caffeine." Susannah's whole face radiated glee for a moment but was replaced by, what, he wondered.

"Man, I can't catch a break," he held up his hands in surrender. "John, I've got this," he handed him a fifty and walked away. He glanced back and winked. "Susannah? Would you care to sit?"

"Um, sure. You didn't have to buy me a coffee."

"I had my wallet out anyway." He charmed.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, anytime." He searched her face. "So, what's a nice teacher like you doing in a coffee joint like this?"

"Hey," John protested. He threw a towel in Rick's direction.

Sharon came by the table, picked up the towel, and deposited two blueberry muffins in its place.

Rick said, "Thanks Sharon," and passed the plate to Susannah. He gave her his full attention. "What's going on?"

Her gaze fell to the tabletop, "Everything is so up in the air." She looked directly into his eyes. "I can still count on you, right? I mean, even if there's, um, difficulties."

"Susannah," he assured, holding her gaze, "I gave you my word. I don't back out of a commitment."