The Worst Possible Time, Epilogue

Where We Left: Castle and Beckett are together in the Hamptons, kissing and solving cold cases

It's closer to October than Labor Day before Beckett's cleared to return to work. Minor nerve damage caused an occasional delay in her right arm's response time, a problem that only healed in the past two weeks. She should mind the wait more than she does.

A warm hand, clumsy with sleep, arrests her attempt to slither out of bed.

"Don't," a deep, scratchy voice mumbles from the pillow. "If we ignore it, reality will go away."

Kate slips back into bed and slides a hand up his chest. "Don't know if you remember, but the reason we're going back today is that you have a book tour. My leave goes for another week."

"Stupid Nikki Heat," Castle says into his pillow. When forced to get out of bed early, he keeps his eyes closed and pouts.

Kate shouldn't find his sulking ritual as adorable as she does. She should find it immature and aggravating. It should absolutely not have her narrowing the space between them to brush a kiss against his lips.

"See?" he says in between brushes of her mouth. "Isn't this so much better?"

"We can still do this back in the city."

"Not when I'm on my book tour." Gina's called in her favor from her help with Castle's foot injury: a thirty-city book tour with no complaining.

If and when Gina extracts another such promise from Castle, Kate's making sure she's included in the no-complaining clause.

"But I'll be just getting back to work and plenty busy," Kate whispers. "By the time you get back – "

"Who knows how many murders I'll have missed." The petulant whine is totally out of place against how his hand slips down her body.

"I promise I'll tell you about all of them over the phone."

"And not reopen the Sara Gutierrez case until I get back."

"Agreed." While they have a strong case against both Carol's husband and Sara's brother, they reached a point that requires both formally reopening the case and police resources. Rather than hand off the case to Esposito and Ryan, Castle and Beckett decided to wait until she was back at the precinct to wrap up the case. It's become their case, and Beckett wants to be there for the end.

Unfortunately, the two other unsolved murders that Espo sent their way (along with an agreement that Beckett pick up one of his Friday shifts before the end of the year as a thank you for being her errand and copy boy) remain unsolved. The lingering questions surrounding the murder of a man with ties to organized crime and a long rap sheet don't bother Kate too much. But the other case annoys her. The roommate is almost certainly the killer but will likely never face prosecution due to shoddy police work.

"Should I take it personally that you're frowning?" Castle asks, his hands still.

"No." She can obsess over unresolved justice soon enough. For now, she has nowhere pressing to be and a nearly naked Richard Castle at her disposal. Taking advantage of her healed shoulder, Kate straddles him in one fluid movement. Leaning forward, she pins his hands above his head. "Reality can wait a little longer."

"I like what you're doing with your hair."

The comment comes from nowhere. They're nearly back in the city. For most of the trip, they've bantered about unimportant matters. "What?"

"Your hair. I like how you're wearing it. It looks good long." Castle's voice has that rough undertone it gets when he's serious about something.

Kate's ears redden. "It's long because I haven't had it cut all summer. I have an appointment to get a trim on Thursday."

"But it looks good."

"Maybe for the beach, Castle, but I need to look a little more professional back at work." She's been wearing it in loose waves, partially to hide the uneven ends, mostly because it's easier and not just because of her shoulder. After a summer in close proximity to the Atlantic, the damp ocean air has permanently infiltrated her hair. Trying to keep it straight is a fool's errand.

"But couldn't you keep it long?" Castle asks. "I mean, the short hair is adorable and all, but I like this too."

Kate's initial impulse is to tell him that's not his choice, that she's not going to wear her hair a certain way for a man, even a man she loves. But she does like it longer, already plans on getting a trim rather than an overhaul, and isn't it good that her boyfriend likes how she's wearing her hair?

Not that she's going to let Castle win that easily. "You want me to keep my hair long?"

"Yes."

"Fine, then – "

Castle's phone rings. Kate glances over from the driver's seat as he frowns. Despite his entreaties that she always drives (conveniently ignoring the past few months), Kate won today's round after pointing out that her doctor suggested it was good for her to get back into the rhythm of her daily activities.

"Problem?"

"No. Just not sure why she'd be calling," Castle says. Before Kate can ask who she is, he picks up.

"Hello?"

Kate hears a woman's voice – rushed, scattered – on the other end, but can't make out the individual words.

"Yes – yes – no, I remember you. Yes, the NYPD. No, that's still – have you tried calling the police – "

Kate tries to catch Castle's eye, but he's focused on the conversation and staring straight ahead.

"Ok, not the police." Castle scowls. "No, I can swing – Same address? – Yeah, I still have it."

Kate impatiently waits for Castle to hang up the phone. He's holding the phone to his right ear, meaning she can't even eavesdrop. Given his penchant to try and listen in on her calls, he should be more understanding of her curiosity and allow her to listen in, doubly so since they're in a relationship.

Castle hangs up. "Feel like a detour?"

"How do you know her again?" Beckett asks as they climb the apartment building's stairs.

"Bought a couple of sculptures from her. I think you'll like her work," Castle says. "Maybe we could buy a piece for your new place?"

There was a brief discussion about Kate simply moving into Castle's place when they got back from the Hamptons. Kate's new landlord told her after she was shot that if she needed to move out for any reason, he would waive the penalties for breaking her lease. She found it a surprising bit of compassion in a city not famed for its generosity, at least until Castle pointed out that, as far as the landlord was concerned, she had been both almost blown up and shot in less than six months. To the landlord, she likely seemed a liability to his building.

Regardless of what her landlord may or may not want, she's keeping her apartment. While they cohabited this summer even better than they solve murders together, she and Castle have only been a couple for three months. Kate's not ready to give up her own space. Although, when she calculated how much she would save annually in rent and utilities by moving in with Castle, she did have the thought that independence isn't worth that much.

"So all she said on the phone was that she was in trouble, she needed help, and she couldn't go to the police," Kate repeats when they get to the fourth floor.

"Yeah. Sounded pretty panicked too, which isn't like her. The few times we've met, she's the epitome of calm, cool, and collected. You know, one of those Zen artistic types."

As they near the door, Kate's pulse speeds when she notices the door is ajar. Out of habit, she reached for her holster before she remembers her gun is in storage at the 12th. Her hand drifts for her phone to call Ryan and Espo but stops. The girl specifically said she didn't want the cops involved. For now, Kate will respect that wish.

"Should I knock?" Castle whispers. "I mean, she knew we were coming, so maybe she left the door open?"

Kate hesitates. She doesn't want to risk tipping off anyone in the apartment, but Castle's right: she knew they were coming and plenty of people in New York have the bad habit of leaving a door unlocked when they're expecting someone. She nods.

Castle quietly knocks. "Maya? It's Rick Castle."

There's no response. Kate strains to hear even the slightest noise within the apartment, but there's nothing. Kate nods him forward.

"Maya, I'm coming in," Castle says before he cautiously opens the apartment door. Kate hates that he's going first, but she isn't armed and he's the one Maya called. If Maya is worried about something, she needs to see a familiar face first.

The apartment is as much an artist's workshop as a living space. It's empty, but it's also a mess.

"Someone's been here, and they were looking for something." Kate's eyes sweep the scene, trying to spot anything unusual amidst the mess. "Try not to move or touch anything. She may not want to involve NYPD, but she might have to at this point."

"Maya?" Castle calls, a little louder this time. "It's Rick Castle. I'm here with my girlfriend, Kate Beckett."

This is really not the time to feel a quiver of excitement at hearing Castle call her his girlfriend. He's been calling her that for weeks. But there's something about hearing the term now that they're back in the city that's different, real. As if the months in the Hamptons were a dream, and Kate's waking up to discover it wasn't all make believe.

"Maya?" Kate repeats as she and Castle make their way into the apartment.

At a closed door to what Kate imagines is the bedroom, she and Castle pause. He raises his phone. "Maybe I should try calling her again?"

Beckett nods as Castle hits redial. Her gut instincts are roaring to life, starving and eager to make up for lost time. Right now, she wants her badge, her gun, a CSU team, and the authority to get to the bottom of this.

Beckett and Castle freeze when they hear a ring tone on the other side of the bedroom door.

"Maya?" Beckett says near the door, louder this time. "I'm coming in."

S turns to look for something she can use so she doesn't leave prints on the door. There's a roll of paper towels, but she doesn't want to risk wiping off other prints. Grasping the smallest amount of doorknob she can, Beckett opens the door.

She stops cold at the sight of the body on the bed. Castle bumps up against her before they both step into the room.

"Is that – "

"That's Maya." Castle's voice is grim. "We weren't – "

"If her life was in immediate danger, she should have called the police." Kate runs a hand up his arm to soften her words. "We got here as fast as we could. She didn't say anything about being worried about her life. Just that – "

The words freeze in Kate's throat when they hear footsteps in the hall. Her eyes meet Castle's, silently communicating. He steps back to close the door to the bedroom as Beckett searches for a place to hide.

"There's a gun on the floor behind you," Castle says sotto voice.

Bending down, Kate picks up the gun. It's a different make than hers, but there's something oddly comforting about having a gun back in her head.

Huh. Maybe that's what Castle meant when he joked last week about her needing therapy.

"Sure you're OK to shoot it?" Castle asks.

Kate debates playing it tough, but this is Rick. "No. Get behind me."

It's a sign of how far they've come that he simply nods and follows directions. As he steps behind her, though, the sound of glass crushing under his shoes explodes in the quiet.

There's a rush of noise in the main room. Kate wants to look back at Castle, but instead she stares at the door, aims the gun, and prepares for whatever's on the other side.

The door is kicked in as familiar shouts sound:

"NYPD!"

"Let me see your hands!"

"Drop the – Beckett?"

"Castle?"

At the door, Ryan and Esposito stand, guns drawn.

Beckett exchanges a look with Castle before she turns to her fellow detectives. "Ryan. Esposito. Nice to see you."

Lowering the gun, she turns it so the grip faces Esposito and hands the weapon off to the other detective.

Holstering his weapon as he takes the other gun, he asks, "Beckett, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Castle knows – knew – the victim. She called him when we were heading back from the Hamptons. She said she was in trouble but didn't want to go to the cops." Beckett's body itches with how powerless she feels. "This is Maya Santori, and, if Montgomery's OK with me coming back a few days early, I think I have my first homicide case."

Esposito smirks. "Beckett, we just found you and Castle at a murder scene holding the possible murder weapon. You're coming down to the precinct whether you like it or not."

"Fine. But no handcuffs." No way is she returning to work after nearly four months while wearing handcuffs.

"Can we at least handcuff Castle?" Ryan asks with innocently raised eyebrows.

Beckett doesn't look at her significant other. If she does, she'll smirk and say something about how she's the only cop who gets to handcuff Richard Castle. That's not something Ryan and Esposito need to hear.

"I'll take that as a no. Anyway, nice to see you guys. I'm going to go put in some calls to get an ME and CSU down here." Ryan disappears into the main room.

Kate studies the room, realizes her posture shifted at some point. For the first time in months, she's Detective Beckett. "How'd you guys know to come down here?"

"Evidence at another murder scene." Espo side eyes her. "Already shaping up to be a weird one. Almost like the universe wanted to make sure you got a nice welcome back."

"How weird?" Castle asks.

"You're not calling Gina to get out of your book tour," Kate says as she falls into step with Esposito.

"But I knew one of the victims!"

Beckett turns to look at him. In her serious detective voice, she says, "You're not calling Gina because I am. Given that the NYPD needs your specific knowledge for this case, I'm hoping she'll be understanding about the need to delay the start of your tour."

She doesn't miss Espo's eye roll or Rick's megawatt smile as she pulls out her phone.

It took a summer, but she's finally where she wants to be: back at work, solving crimes, and sharing a bed with Richard Castle.

Kate Beckett is giddy.

Author's Note: And so, barring a few minor tweaks, I return them mostly as I found them, with Beckett, Castle, and the rest of the gang off to start Season 3.

Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, recommended favorited, followed, you name it, The Worst Possible Time. I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.