This is larger mainly because I chose to work within the scenes and add to them. Been very busy so my writing time has been limited to short periods. Enjoy.

Chapter 51

Precinct

Upon arrival at the Precinct the next morning, Rick carried an attitude of confidence. He was going to successfully chip away at the wall Detective Beckett had built between them. Preparing for work, he had decided to wear the clothing Kate had favourably commented on and he wore the cologne she liked the most. The one that turned her one, had her collapsing at the knees if he played it right. A conversation with his mother last evening had caused him to question whether Kate would let him back in. He strongly believed she was half leading him on, but another part of him worried she really had decided she no longer wanted to be his girlfriend. She had phoned Martha when the ME truck had been hijacked to steal the body to let his family know he was safe. Why would she do that if she didn't care about him and his welfare? She acted out her dislike for him so well that sometimes he had her fooled.

A heavy inhalation of oxygen by Kate brought him back to the present, to watching Max Haverstock in the interrogation room. The man was a suit, rarely saw the sun he was that pale, wore glasses and had a balding head. Rick guessed he was in his mid to late forties. He poked about the interrogation room, explored the nooks in the wall. He also guessed that Kate had a good whiff of his cologne. He sensed she sneaked a glance in his direction. The urge to make a comment was almost too strong for him but he focussed on the man in the box. Fox in a box. Rick smirked.

Standing to everyone's right and closest to the door, Beckett cleared her throat, "Are you sure this is the guy?" She asked anyone who was listening.

Esposito, who stared through the one-way glass, replied, "Maxwell Haverstock. And he confirmed he knew the vic."

"This guy couldn't throw a wet sponge off a roof, let alone body," Rick remarked.

"Well, I guess we go poke around and see what he gives us." She glanced to Rick, silently indicating he was to follow. He stepped back, falling out of the line up, then followed her out of the viewing room. In the corridor, the detective abruptly turned about to face Rick as he pulled the door to. He stopped, surprised, and found himself barely inches from her staring down into large hazel eyes. Oh yeah, she was breathing in his scent. Her pupils were a little too large, her lips a little full.

She hissed, "This is only because I've been told we have to be partners."

Rick's eyebrows raised, and he gave her a quirky smirk, "Well guess what?" Her brow furrowed, and he continued, "I was told the same thing."

"What the-?"

"Who by?" They asked simulteneously.

"You first." Rick pushed.

She glanced up the hallway, "Captain."

"Same."

"He's played us." She said between gritted teeth.

"Seems so." Distracted, he softly leaned in closer to her and breathed in deeper. "Why Beckett. You're wearing my favourite perfume."

The lips pressed together and she got flustered, "Get in the Interrogation Room."

"Sure," he obliged, then paused and quietly said, "But Detective, we'll deal with this other stuff later." He opened the door for her ensuring she didn't have a second to respond without someone hearing her.

Beckett strode into the interrogation room as she said, "Mr. Haverstock?"

"Yes."

Rick closed the door and leaned against the wall, watching Beckett who was trying to quickly settle her emotions. The pressure was mounting on Kate to resolve their issues and was coming from multiple directions. Even Esposito had made a passing remark at Rick about Kate's moodiness brought on by their differences.

"Do you know why you're here?" She inquired with the suspect.

"No, they just told me I needed to come in." He was awkward when he turned about and stepped to the table.

Beckett sat at the table to the left of Rick, "It's about John Allen. He was murdered last night."

"That's terrible." He responded and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"You and he were friends." Beckett suggested.

"We had adjoining cubicles." He was unsettled, a little nervous.

"When was the last time you saw him?" She calmly asked.

"Oh," he took a moment to recollect, "Not since D-Day. That's what we called it. D for downsizing."

"You were let go?" She glanced to Rick.

"Yeah." Haverstock replied.

Beckett said, "I bet that made you pretty angry."

"Yeah, fifteen years we worked there together. You know, you'd think that would mean something. You'd think loyalty would be worth something. You know what it's worth? A kick in the teeth."

Beckett said, "Did you ever call and tell John that?"

"Oh yeah, all the time. Yeah, I told him we didn't deserve to be treated like that, but I promised him one day the world would turn, because karma is a nasty little bastard."

Beckett who was struggling to focus, said, "Is that why you killed him?"

"Who?"

Beckett clarified, "John."

"Why would I want to kill John?"

Beckett said, "For firing you."

"He didn't fire me. We were let go together on D-Day. Fortunately, I was able to find another job."

"He didn't have a job?"

"I guess he doesn't have to look for one anymore." Haverstock concluded.

Rick straightened up in his chair and looked at Kate, "I guess he's right."

"Thank you, Mr Haverstock. We'll be in contact if we need any further information."

Kate stood, Rick followed her out. Ryan and Esposito joined them on the other side and they headed to their desks.

Beckett sat opposite Rick at the diner, a strawberry shake in a metal cup half consumed on the table. She watched Rick down his second cheeseburger, eternally amazed at how he could virtually vacuum up food when they were on a time constraint. She had just finished a two minute phone conversation with Lanie a time she had been captivated by him. She was surprised she remembered what the doctor had updated her with.

With Rick's attention on food she caught time to look at him. He'd been to the Hamptons and got a bit of a tan and extra freckles. He also hadn't bothered to shave that morning. The sight of a day's growth of stubble sexually aroused her especially when she dwelled on what he did with that stubble. She uncrossed then recrossed he legs.

"What did she say?" Rick asked the moment after he swallowed.

She sat up, coming out of her day dream about whiskers, "Umm, well, they found Allen's body again."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Mm. Dumped in some alley. Lanie said someone operated on him."

"Operated? On a dead body?" The other eyebrow was up.

Kate shrugged her shoulders her mouth busy with the straw and consuming the shake. It was a nice one.

"She said he was cut open and they took all his organs out."

Castle smirked, "Somebody hated his guts."

"Really? You're going with that?" She asked suppressing a giggle.

"Yes. What else did she say?"

"That the guys who did it were not surgeons, that the cuts were sloppy. They probably used box cutters or kitchen knives."

"What the hell were they were looking for?"

"It gets better, Castle. Lanie said she ran a tox screen and found nothing in the vic's blood stream. But in the body cavity itself there were trace amounts of powdered cocaine."

Rick sat up as something hit him, "He was a drug mule."

Kate smiled, really smiled for the first time she had been in his company of late. She loved their bantering, the way she secretly enticed with little bits on information to a discovery, and she didn't try to suppress a show of her feelings. "Yes."

Castle smiled right back, but then sobered and said, "I don't buy it. How does a middle-aged insurance guy with no history of substance abuse, no criminal record-become a drug mule? This was not a bad guy. You don't just fill out an ad on Craig's List. You gotta know people. Bad people!"

"Well, we all know those," Kate replied, "We have to drop by the morgue on the way back to the Precinct."

"You tell me that after I down two burgers?"

"Seeing a dead body still disturbs your stomach?"

"Yeah and I haven't been around them lately."

"You'll be right, Castle. Just put a little of my cream under your nose." She pulled a little jar of Vicks from her pocket.

"You always carry that."

"Mmm. Like you do candy."

"Keeps you sweet," he replied and dived back into finishing his meal.

Kate sat back, stared at him for several seconds. "Maybe I need to be a bit sweeter," she replied.

"Don't change a thing. I like you the way you are. Every bit of you."

Her breath was caught in her throat when their eyes connected, his so blue, so beautiful. The urge to reach over the table to cup his jaw, kiss his lips was almost stronger than her. He licked his lips, she took all that in, recalling times he'd grinned up at her from between her thighs. She wanted that back.

"No." He said, "Don't change a thing. Now drink your shake. We have an appointment with your BFF."

"Please don't change either."

"As freaky as all this is, let's not forget it happened post-mortem." Lanie said as she unveiled the body laying prone on the slab. Rick instantly held his breath in anticipation his gut would somersault in response to the sight of the body on the slab. But it wasn't too bad.

Nevertheless, a little blue glass bottle of Vicks Vaporub appeared before him, the lid off, held by long slender fingers. He pushed a finger into the oily cream and swiped it beneath his nostrils, inhaled through his nose. There a sudden awakening of his respiratory system/

"Thanks."

"Mm." Kate responded noting that Lanie had washed the deceased and if it weren't for the missing parts the man looked like he was asleep.

"The actual cause of death is up here," Lanie pointed to victim's throat. "Bruise pattern indicates the assailant strangled him with both hands."

Castle and Beckett leaned in to study the bruising about the victim's neck and Rick said, "The bruising is a little lighter right there."

Beckett asked Lanie, "What would account for that?"

"Broken or dislocated finger, maybe." Lanie replied taking a closer inspection of the one shorter finger the bruising exhibited.

Castle glanced up to the girls, "Maybe he's fancy. Strangles people with his pinkie sticking out. Like tea." He held up his little finger, gave the girls an innocent stare.

Lanie rolled her eyes. Kate vacantly stared ahead. She inhaled deeply.

"Okay," Kate said, "It's time for us to leave."

"Hang on, Girl. Have you two sorted out your differences?"

"Almost."

"Working on it."

They answered simultaneously turning their gazes to each other.

"Good. I will see you two later." Lanie responded.

"I believe that's our cue to leave." Rick said, playfully looped his arm into Kate's arm and encouraged her to follow. She walked and when they reached the corridor she didn't pull away, so Rick didn't release her until they needed to open a door.

"We'll meet the guys back at the Precinct and see what we've all learned." Beckett said as they continued to the car.

"I'll text them on the way back," Rick replied.

Esposito lifted himself from a chair and stepped to the whiteboard, grabbing a red marker, "John Allen was coming back from Mexico, not New Mexico." He advised the group and wrote 'Mexico' beneath the dead man's name. A motor vehicle licence mug shot was of Allen was staring back at him.

Ryan said, "No criminal history, healthy, white middle class... They wouldn't have looked at him twice at customs."

"True." Esposito agreed, "The man had skills. Why would he do something so stupid?"

"Because, he had to. I went over financials with the wife." Ryan replied holding up a few sheets of paper.

"How bad?" Beckett asked.

"They've been living on credit cards the last six months. She had no idea. She thought everything was fine." He handed over the papers to Beckett who scanned the typed and hand written information. Castle peered over her shoulder which Kate didn't seem to mind. She actually leaned a little his way to let him read the data.

Beckett said, "Well Kev, if he wasn't going to work every day, where was he going?" She handed back the papers once Rick sat back.

"This is where Luthor Whitehead comes into the picture." Esposito said. "He owns the finger print on the inside of the glove that was found at the scene. Whitehead has been busted twice for possession of intent and once on conspiracy. Pled out on all three. Did a nickel up-State for a gun charge and is currently on parole for conspiracy to distribute."

"Have you established any relationship with our vic?" Beckett asked.

"According to the delightful Mr Whitehead, Allen had three quarters of a mill of coke in his stomach and he don't show up for the meet." Ryan explained. "Whitehead said they went looking for Allen. Walked up the block and guess what they saw?" He smirked, then waited as Beckett and Castle who glanced at each other both pulling faces. Suddenly Rick's eyes lit up.

"No way!" Rick burst out. "They saw a bunch of cops and writers staring at a tree? They saw us?" He grinned and sat forward in anticipation.

"They saw us." Ryan confirmed. "Then they had to make a quick plan to snatch the body to claim their load."

"So," Beckett pondered half smiling at Rick's boyish enthusiasm, "Who on earth knew Luther and informed him that Allen would be a mule?"

"Arr, that was a guy named Ron Bigby vouched for John Allen. Got him the job as the mule." Esposito replied.

"Ron Bigby is a floor trader at Goldman." Castle commented, after which Esposito wrote the name of Bigby and his occupation beneath that.

Beckett said, "Mr Bigby obtained employment for Mr Allen as a drug mule-"

Rick continued, "Because Allen played and lost at the Poker table. Allen and Bigby were in floating games around town, small stakes, and a good way to blow off steam after work. But then when he got laid off it stopped being a game. He started betting to make up his pay check, but the stakes were too low, so he went to Chinatown, to the mob-run games. He lost more than he had to the wrong guy."

Beckett seemed to have brightened listening to Castle and she added as she turned to face the writer, "He couldn't make enough to cover his losses."

Rick turned in his seat angling himself closer to Beckett and he leaned in, his eyes wide and bright, "Yeah," he smiled, "Then Allen remembered the night Bigby told the story about his own fiscal emergency, about how he went to Mexico, made fifty grand in one day. That's when he figured, hey, what the hell, just pay it forward."

"Yuss!" Beckett gasped, "Bigby said Allen owed, and said John thought he was Russian Mafia because of all his tattoos."

Ryan cleared this throat disrupting their build-up of conversation and said, "If some tight-end Russian mobster was after me, I could see taking a job as a drug mule."

Esposito sighed, "And a tattooed Russian in New York City. Well, that narrows it down."

Beckett who, was seemingly conscious of the sudden healthy glow across her cheeks, reluctantly turned her attention to all the men rather than just the one. "Well, we need to conduct an investigation based on the information we have, not the evidence we need," she concluded.

Castle nodded his agreement, "Well, Bigby said the Russian hangs out at the club at Chinatown. Why don't we just go there?" He asked but maintained a visual on Kate, noting her lips had thickened, her cheeks were rosy. Casting his gaze to Esposito he saw that he had also noticed the arousal in the female detective. His brown eyes assessed Beckett's entire face before looked at Castle and said.

"The games are word-of-mouth, bro. They don't just share with cops."

Castle shrugged, "Well, luckily I'm not a cop."

"Castle." Beckett cautioned.

Castle said, "What? It's perfect. I go in, scope the place out until I ID the Russian."

Esposito contemplated it as he glanced to each member of the team, "Hey, you know, that's not a bad plan."

"Okay, yes not a bad idea, but we still have to find the game." Beckett said.

Castle replied, "Leave that to me. I have my own game to go to this evening." He checked the time, then Kate, "And on that point, I'd better head off to get the house ready."

"Executive hours." Esposito replied.

"Yeah." Castle replied, "But I'm not on the payroll."

"Bye, Castle." Ryan called after the writer as he headed towards the elevator. He tapped the top of Kate's monitor gaining her attention, "It's good to see you two getting along again, Beckett."

After Rick closed the door on his writer friends for the evening, he took his phone from a pocket and opened it. At almost 1.00 am he texted Beckett, asking her if she was awake. The door was then secured for the night and he went to the kitchen to clean up. The phone rang. He checked to see it was Beckett. Accepted the call.

"Burning the midnight oil, Detective?"

"Reading a good novel."

"The author?"

"Umm, the latest Michael Connelly."

"Seriously? He was here tonight, playing poker."

"Seriously?"

"Mmm. Sure was." He grabbed a handful of chips left in a bowl. "He lost a packet to Cannell."

"Stephen Cannell?"

"That's with a J. Stephen J Cannell."

"Okay. Did you find out anything?"

"Sure did. Cannell had the place. Tomorrow night. Nine pm."

"I will organise a team for tomorrow night." She fell silent. Rick waited for her to continue. Reward came when she meekly murmured, "Castle?"

"I'm right here."

"Mm. That's a pretty good story, Ricky."

"Mm? What is?"

"All those people who sit around your poker table, play cards in your company. The list is impressive."

"Friends. Just friends." He paused, gritted his teeth and decided to tell her the truth, "I would give anything for one of those individuals at the table to be you." He quietly said. "I would give them all up for you."

The conversation fell silent again. Rick heard her move something, her breaths.

"I have things to figure out." She timidly disclosed. "Give me time."

"You've had time. You can have time." It was clear by the tone in his voice he was impatient, "See you tomorrow."

"Night, Rick."

He disconnected the call, stared at the phone to see if she called back, but the screen went black and it was done.

In the stakeout van the following night Esposito fiddled with wires and devices inside Rick's dress shirt. The author was itching to get started on his under cover operation. Ryan was messing about with the receiver end of the equipment ensuring they had everything working fine.

"Speak Castle," Ryan requested as he slipped on head phones.

"One, two. One two. Testing, one, two." Rick said with a deeper than usual voice, a grin appearing when all three member of his team gave him a look. "What?" He asked.

"I was expecting "Major Tom to Ground Control."

"Arrr… showing your age Espo." Castle remarked.

Beckett who let the banter continue, peered out the van window down the alley way. She could smell Asian food and the alley was flooded with lighting, "You sure this is the place?"

Castle replied, "Cannell has never steered me wrong."

Esposito said, "Button cam's in place. Ryan?"

Ryan said, "Good for picture and sound."

Esposito said, "So remember, we can hear you, but you can't hear us. Once you leave this van, you're on your own, okay?"

Beckett said, "All right, tell me the plan again."

Castle said, "I go in, find the tattooed Russian, I get a clear picture of him, then I get the hell out of there."

Beckett said, "And you don't stay any longer then you need to."

Castle said, "I'll be fine. Besides, it's Chinatown, how many Russian poker players can there be?"

Esposito swung open the back door so Castle could exist. The threw him his suit jacket that he pulled on and straightened up so it was neat. He gave a grin then left.

Beckett looked out the window watching the writer walk into the alley, "Anybody else have a bad feeling about this?"

Esposito and Ryan raised their hands.

Beckett observed the hand raise, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Castle entered the Gambling Room and the camera showed the surveillance team a large room full of men and card tables. Castle whispered into his mic, "I'm in. Tattooed Russian. Uh, there's another tattooed Russian. There's a whole table of tattooed Russians. Apparently, there are a lot more tattooed Russians in Chinatown than I thought. So, the Russians are regulars here, but only a handful of them play at the table, which is where John Allen would have gone. Guy said they're card bullies. Raising the pots, forcing their opponents to bet more to stay in the game."

Ryan removed the head phones of his ears, "You think he has any idea that he's recapping a conversation we just heard in its entirety?"

Beckett shook her head as Esposito replied, "Give the guy a gadget and he thinks he's Bond."

"Let's just hope he remembers he's wearing a camera before he goes and takes a leak."

"Ryan," Esposito frowned, "Why would you even—"

"Trust me."

They turned their attention to their surveillance as Castle murmured into the mic, "See what kind of trouble I can stir up. I'll go sit at the table, see if I can find anything out."

Beckett's anxiety shot up, "What did he say?"

Ryan said, "He just said he's—"

Beckett glared at the monitor, and with sheer frustration said, "That's not the plan. That's not the plan, Castle!"

They watched as he sat down at a game table, "How's it going?"

"This is no limits table." A Russian said.

Castle replied, "Which is perfect, cause I am a no limit kind of guy. Change for twenty thousand, please."

This was killing Beckett, "Nononono, what's he doin'?"

Ryan replied, "Dropping nearly half my yearly salary like it's pocket change."

Castle said, "Nice tats. No, the tattoos, nice. What do they say?"

A guy in a track jacket across the other side of the table replied, "It says 'mind your own business and play cards."

Castle said, "All right, don't mean to pry. I'm just a writer. Doing a little bit of research."

A guy with a goatee asked, "Anything we might of heard of?"

They heard Castle say, "Um, Storm Fall, Storm's Last Stand."

The guy to Rick's right asked, "Derrick Storm?"

Castle replied, "Yeah."

The guy brightened, "I love this guy. Why did you kill?"

Castle said, "It's a long story, but I'm working on a new one about underground poker. It's hush hush. Just came down to get a feel for the world, you know.'

The guy with the goatee spoke up. "And you want it to be authentic."

"Exactly." Castle confirmed.

The man with the goatee answered, "No problem," then spoke in Russian to the other plays. They all laughed.

Esposito glanced to Ryan and Beckett, "Seems like he's making friends."

Beckett looked to Esposito, "They just said they're going to take him for everything he's got."

"What, you speak Russian?"

Beckett kept her eyes on the monitor, watching as the table commenced a new gave, "Semester in Kiev, between junior and senior year." She glanced at Esposito then said with a good Russian accent. Sometimes when I am bored I go to cafes in Little Odessa and pretend to be Moscovite."

Esposito fidgeted on his seat, "Now that's kinda hot."

On screen the game Rick had put himself in was well underway, and Rick was still in the game. He stretched his arms up, trying to get good shots of the suspects for his team who keenly watched on from the van.

"So, Mr. Castle, tell me a little more about this book." The man to Rick's right asked.

"Well, it's about this Russian mobster with a taste for cards. Yeah. Preys off desperation, luring people to betting more than they have."

"And why would he do this?"

Castle said, "Because he's also a loan shark. See, he fronts his victims and banks on..."

Beckett's brow furrowed, "What the hell's he doing?

Esposito said, "He's playing poker; he's trying to provoke one of these guys into giving up their hand.

Beckett said, "Or he's trying to tip off our killer.

Castle said, "...But this one guy, a family guy, he gets in a little too deep. Can't pay the loan back. So, the mobster's got no choice, has to kill him. Send a message to anyone else who owes him. So, one night he lures him into an abandoned building. Strangles him to death and throws him off the roof." He finished up. The three in the surveillance team were lured in with the story but studied the men at the table.

The guy directly opposite Rick, commented with a thick Russian accent, "Sounds like a lot of work. Why not just put bullet in his head? Much more civil. Bang." He laughed with Castle.

Esposito pointed at the monitor, "Hey Ryan, check this out, what is he doing with his finger?"

Beckett and Ryan leaned in close and she said, "Punch in on that. It's a prosthetic. That's why it didn't leave a mark on our vic. That's our guy."

Esposito said, "Hey, if he thinks Castle is a threat..."

Beckett replied, "We have to get him out of there. Now." She pulled of her head set, stood.

Esposito said, "Security is pretty well armed. We go in there as cops it could get messy."

Ryan said, "Whoa, what are you doing?"

Beckett said, "Uh, I'm going to go in there, and if I'm not out in ten minutes, you guys call for backup. Can I have my purse please?"

Esposito handed the purse to her as he said, "What are you going to do? Lip gloss them to death?"

Beckett thought about it, "Something like that."

She opened the back door of the van and jumped out. Inside a minute she was wrapped in a red knitted cardigan and stepping out of her work pants. She threw the pants in the back of the van and walked around to the side mirror to check her lipstick and hair which she ruffled up.

When Beckett arrived at the entrance, a back entrance going up a storey of steel stairs, she came across two bouncers at the base of the stairs. She was blocked by their bodies from going up the stairs.

"Ma'am." The bigger guy stated.

Beckett opted to put on the charm, and with a strong Russian accent and large docile eyes, she said, "Oh come on boys, my boyfriend is waiting, he's player. If I don't go inside he will lose." She assessed and didn't see much of a reaction so she upped it, stepping closer, "I'm his lucky charm, you know. No? Well, maybe I can be a lucky charm for you." She seductively said, "We win-and when I'm there we always win-then maybe I can share some of my boyfriend's luck with you."

The men looked to each other, then quietly stepped aside for her to pass them. As she climbed the stairs in her heels and with bare legs she was certain the men gazed after her. She didn't care. She needed to get Castle out of a risky situation that she had let him walk into.

Back at the table, Rick was grinning, having completely slipped his mind he was under cover.

"All in. It's a big pot Mr. Writer-Man." The guy in a blue shirt said, "All that money, whatever is money to millionaire, huh. You just gonna write it off on your taxes as doing research."

Castle said, "All in."

The Russian in blue, "Hum. You are like character in your book: in too deep. Three queens." The cards were dropped to the table for all the players to view his hand.

Castle said, "That's very impressive. Not a lot can beat three queens. Except an inside straight maybe. Sweetheart, this is for you. He drew in a pile of chips from the middle of the table. Would you change this into something a little smaller that I can carry. Now that is a big pile of money. What's money to a mobster, right?" He stood up and shook himself into his jacket.

Guy in white shirt came up behind Castle and sticks a gun at his back. "Walk."

Castle squawked, "Whoa, whoa,' and held up his hands. He walked into a kitchen.

"Who are you?" The man asked.

Castle said, "I told you, I'm a novelist."

"The story, the dead man, the roof, who told you? Who knows?"

Castle replied, "His family knows. His children know."

"If he paid what he owed, he'd be home with them now, but he crossed me and now you have crossed me."

Castle said, "No, no, I'm just a writer."

"Do not lie. You're a cop.

From behind them a woman with a Russian accent called, "Him a cop? Don't make me laugh, he's barely even a man."

Castle looked to his left, saw Beckett in a red cardigan and heels. Her legs were bare and he saw her bra, "Beckett?"

Beckett ignored Rick and concentrated on the Russian man, "But you are man, aren't you? Very handsome man. Richard, are you bothering this handsome man?"

The Russian yelled at Beckett, "Go away."

Beckett said, "Okay! Boys and their guns, am I supposed to be impressed?!"

"It doesn't concern you."

"Actually," Beckett said, "It does," and with that she snatched the gun from the Russian and incapacitated him.

Castle checked out the back of Beckett and asked in a hushed tone, "Is it just my imagination or did you change?"

Beckett closed the hand cuffs, "Castle, would you get some backup, please?"

Her impatient tone snapped Castle back to reality, "Yeah."

Without waiting to be asked, Rick fetched Beckett's clothing from the surveillance van. He found her work pants and top, his mind stuck on the fact she was wearing the red bra he'd bought her when they had celebrated their third month together. The clothing smelt of her, of her hygiene products and a whiff of that glorious scent had his body responding. His senses were already heightened from the earlier event. He took the clothes to her. She waited for him behind a police van and was being questioned by a couple of plain clothes police when he returned. Routine business that he waited for them to finish. She was cold and shaking. When she noticed him, she waved him over as she wound up the conversation with the police. She'd provided him with enough information.

"Please," she muttered as she reached for her pants. He stood close to her and waited as she stepped out of her heels to slip on her pants. "I'm so cold, Castle. Thank you."

"I can see that, Kate." He watched her struggle to button up her pants because her hands trembled so much. Rick glanced about to see who was around, then stepped to his right which would properly conceal her as she took off her cardigan to put on the top he handed her. He held the cardigan.

"Thanks for saving me," he said.

"Y… you… you would have talked your way out of it." She stuttered out and glanced to his eyes once her head popped through the neck of her top. She slipped her arms in the sleeves, pulled it down then snatched the cardigan off him. She shrugged it on quickly.

"We'll get you some hot food on the way back to the Precinct." He offered as he extracted himself out of his jacket.

"Hot coffee would be perfect."

"Hot chocolate?" He held out his jacket, she turned so he could wrap it around her shoulders. Glancing gratefully up to his eyes, she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

"Thank you." She said as she stepped back into her heels. "Castle, I'm so cold. I should have gotten dressed after we arrested him."

"Probably. Come here," he invited and held out his arms for her to step in. He was warm. She keenly took up his offer and pushed herself into his tight embrace. He held her quietly until her body stopped trembling. She was the one who pulled away, looking up at his eyes momentarily.

"Kate," he softly said, wanting her to understand he longed for the rift between them to be gone.

She understood his silent communication by the softer expression she gave, pressed her lips together then said, "Let's get back to the Precinct. Can you drive please?"

"Sure." He took the keys she held out then followed her back to the Crown.

"Remember the first time we made love?" Kate asked, after she turned the dial up on the heating. She picked a plastic bag from the pocket of Rick's coat and studied it.

Rick glanced at her, unsure where she was doing, but he saw she had found his packet of English lollies that she unrolled. "Best night of my life and I will never forget it," he replied. He put the indicator on and when the road was clear, he pulled out into the traffic,

"Me neither." She swiped the vents so they faced her and turned the fan up. The bag was shaken, "What are these?"

He scanned the bag, and read out, "Maynards Wine Pastilles. We'll swing by the burger joint we like?"

'Mm. You went to the candy store."

"I did. I bought you more Pineapples."

"I received the box of Australian candy. Thank you."

Rick chuckled, "The guy at the shop thought I was crazy."

"No need to buy any for a while."

"It's the same day I found this bag of English sweets."

"English lollies," she whispered using an English accent, as she stole a sweet from the bag. As usual the candy was thoroughly inspected before she popped it in her mouth, a habit Castle secretly adored about her. A bit of a smile crept in and she mumbled, "Delicious."

"Better than the Allens ones," he commented.

"Maybe." She rifled through the bag again.

"Why did you mention that night?" He asked as he accepted a sweet she held out for him.

"Because right now, well lately, I've experienced similar things to those moments when you carried me to my bedroom. More excited and terrified than ever."

"Oh." He glanced at her, saw the large eyes, paled cheeks. She really needed fuel and a few sweets wasn't going to do the job. He recalled the night of their first date, that she had been scared out of her mind in the minutes preceding their first act of intercourse. He'd nearly stopped, but instead, he'd put the brakes on their progress and had taken her back to the beginning which had settled her nerves. Not long after they'd gone crazy.

Rick drove on. He calculated it was about an eight minute drive to the Precinct and four minutes at tops to the drive thru he was headed towards. He needed this conversation to go somewhere positive in four minutes.

"Why do you feel like that? Everything's okay." He lied. It wasn't okay at all.

She breathed slowly, bit her lip, then spilled out, "Because it's not okay and right now I cannot change what I've been thinking and feeling. I was really scared our first night together, because I hardly knew you. That was real and easy to understand. This, is confusing but I feel the same as that night."

Rick waited for her to continue but when she didn't he filled the air, "You were shaking. I knew you wanted to be with me, but I was aware you were bloody afraid. I remember I put you down …"

"You sat me on the bed, you stepped away and put space between us to let me breathe. You took your time taking off your clothes until you were naked, exposed to me first." She looked ahead. "You gave me the time to process it all."

"I didn't want to terrify you."

"La Dolce Vita," she said.

"The sweetness of doing nothing," Rick loosely translated. She was sending him a message in a subtle way. In Kate's way. He nodded, thought about it. "Okay."

She inhaled deeply and seemed to relax now he apparently understood, then turned the heating down. "I can't wait to eat, Rick."

"Not long," he quietly said, more preoccupied with analysing her subtext. "So, what you are telling me is my plan to gift you with flowers and teddies only served to put fear in you, suffocated you, at a time when you were pissed off at me. You needed space to think it out, perhaps lick the wounds I reopened on you. Any other time you would have embraced my gifts. Am I understanding you?"

"Mm. As my Dad said the other night, I needed time for the dumb nineteen year old to sort it out.'

"So, in order for the dumb nineteen year old to rule the roost for a while, you pushed me away and kept me where you wanted me." He appreciated she cherished her space and she protected her privacy more than any other person he knew but he struggled to accept what she was saying. "That's not fair and you know that."

"Rick, you instinctively respected that I was afraid the first night we were intimate but in my opinion, you ruthlessly disrespected my privacy even if it did come out with a good result."

"Well, from now on I will ensure you know everything," he replied, "But Kate, in return, I don't want you doing what you've done with ignoring me."

"I-"

"And the text you sent me?" He had less than a minute to get out what he wanted her to know.

"Text?"

"The Hey text? After all the effort I made to work things out with you, a text that says Hey? Not cool, Kate. We resolve our disagreements by talking it out even as work partners," he stated with enough punch that Kate didn't move, didn't respond.

He indicated he was about to have the car make a turn, ensured he had clearance then drove into the drive thru burger place they liked. He braked the car to a stop at the order console.

"The usual?" He asked Kate.

"Please. What you get."

He ordered enough food to feed them and the guys. As he drove to the window to pay he said, "When I finally received a text from you, and then saw what you wrote, the lack of, it hurt."

Their eyes met as he braked the car.

A teenager in the window greeted him which distracted Rick. He placed the vehicle into park, then felt his pockets going so far as to lift his ass off the seat to tap the back pockets of his jeans. He searched the console then it occurred to him. "You have my wallet in the right pocket, Honey." He grimaced, realising his mistake of calling her a pet name. "Damn," he hissed.

She quickly found it. "My purse is still in the surveillance van."

"Text the boys. Make sure they collect it." He handed her his phone then flipped open the wallet. "Let them know I've picked up dinner."

"Sure."

A quarter hour later they were at the Precinct in the breakout room. Esposito and Ryan dined with them on burgers, fries and drinks. Discussion circled on the events at the Russian poker game. Everyone had a good laugh over Kate's Russian performance. They ate while they waited for the uniforms to process the arrested before they would need to do their paperwork.