A/N: I've been in hardcore shipper mode for the past few weeks, so when this idea popped into my head, I couldn't help but write it down. Hope you all enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle. Though I will ask for it next Christmas.

STORY IS PRE-ESTABLISHED CASKETT

The coffee cup is heavy in her hand as she presses the button for the elevator, then steps in. It feels strange.

So strange.

She takes a deep breath as the elevator rises, preparing herself for another miserable day of going over case notes (alone), interrogating suspects (alone), reviewing evidence (alone), and drinking coffee after coffee (alone). She sighs and leans her head up against the elevator door, wondering when she became so reliant upon his eyes, his smile, his . . . everything to get her through the day.

Yeah. She misses him.

The elevator dings, spitting her out into the precinct that once provided her with comfort, but has done no such thing since he left. Now, everywhere she looks is just a reminder of what's missing. What she's missing. And she hates it.

Wow. Hates her job.

He really has changed her.

She saunters over to her desk, sets the coffee down, and then glances up. She catches Ryan nonchalantly sending looks her way. Concerned looks. She shifts her eyes back to the desk and tries to fake a smile to ease his worries.

But it falls flat.

She gives up.

She immerses herself in paperwork, doing as best she can to keep her mind off of . . . him. After all, he never helped much with paperwork anyway . . .

But she still misses his presence. The chair sitting next to her desk has never looked so somber.

She reaches over to pick up her coffee and raises it to her lips. But then she pauses, sighs, and tosses it into the garbage, still half full. It doesn't taste the same when it doesn't come from him. Instead of energizing her, it just depresses her. Makes her wish she were anywhere but here.

When Esposito walks into the bullpen, she barely even notices. He goes up to Ryan, and they exchange a few quick and quiet words before the latter gets up and leaves. Esposito, on the other hand, turns his attentions to his senior officer.

And his friend.

"Yo, Beckett."

She doesn't look up.

"Yeah?"

He stops to look at her.

"You okay?"

She glances up at him, tries on that fake smile again.

"Yeah. Fine." She puts her pen down, gives him her full attention. "What's up?"

"That suspect that you wanted me and Ryan to look into yesterday? Well we found him. He was in Central Park. Trying to pickpocket tourists."

She has to take a moment to go over the case in her head and remember what he's talking about. The victim was a teacher. White male, thirty-five, always used to go for runs in the park where he was shot. And the suspect . . . ah, right. A drug addict who was also a kleptomaniac, seen in the park right about the same time the vic was killed.

"He's in the interview room?" she asks.

"Yep. Whenever you're ready, he's ready."

"Okay. I'll take care of him in a sec."

Esposito nods and turns to walk away.

He turns back hesitantly.

"So when does Castle get back from his book tour again?"

She takes a breath, lets the gloom wash over her for a moment.

"Next week sometime? He wasn't very specific." Some of the annoyance leaks into her voice. "He said he'd call when he gets back."

'Cause that worked so well last time, she refrains from adding.

Esposito once again nods.

"Good," he says. "Ryan and I are getting sick of seeing you looking like a kicked puppy. You need to turn that frown upside down."

She raises an eyebrow at him and then smiles broadly, highly exaggerating it. He chuckles.

"There you go!" He laughs again. "I'm going to go check on some evidence. CSU said they were sending something up."

"Okay."

"And I wouldn't keep that suspect waiting too long. He was pretty impatient to talk," he calls over his shoulder as he walks away. She finishes up a line in her paperwork.

"Going now!"

She stands and grabs the current case file. "Interrogate a suspect" is not on the top of her list of things she'd love to do right now, but "Interrogate an agitated drug addict" is even farther down on that list. She pauses outside of the interrogation room, making sure that she is fully composed. She may be a bit upset, but there's no way in hell she's going to let it affect the case. The captain would have her head.

She pushes open the door, staring at the case file in her hand.

"Robert Hol-" She glances up.

And freezes.

Because the man standing in the middle of the interrogation is not Robert Holden. From the picture and information in her case file, Robert Holden is a short man with greasy black hair and dark brown eyes. A drug addict, a convict who had been arrested in the past for distribution and assault.

No, this man . . . this man is tall. With soft brown hair and bright blue eyes that could light up a room all on their own. A writer, though she must admit, a writer with quite an impressive rap sheet - disorderly conduct, resisting arrest. And let's not forget theft. He once stole a police horse. Naked. She thinks to herself that she needs to add another theft onto that extensive history.

Because he stole her heart as well.

"Hey!" He's smiling at her. She's still too shocked to move. He frowns. "Did you somehow lose your tongue in a shootout with a suspect while I was away? Because I will happily kill the guy who did it."

She only takes a second more before she throws herself at him.

This . . . how did she ever live without . . . this?

His arms are wrapped around her and she has her face buried in his shoulder. She's not entirely sure, but she thinks she may be crying. He laughs as he rubs her back, and she can feel the vibrations in his chest.

God, she loves him.

She pulls back slightly in order to give him a passionate kiss, but is confused when he breaks away only a moment later.

"What?" she asks. "What's wrong?"

"Aren't you afraid Gates is going to find us here and punish you in some horrible manner? And me?"

"Right now?" She smirks. "No."

He raises an eyebrow at her.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Kate Beckett?"

She laughs, presses her face into his neck.

"I missed you."

He grins at her.

"I missed you more."

"Did not."

"Did t-"

She kisses him again.

And again he pulls away to look at her.

"Can we talk?" he says, suddenly serious. She studies his face, frowning.

"Is everything okay?" She's worried now. Did something happen on his book tour? Did he change his mind about all of this?

He smiles and the tension in her chest loosens a bit.

"I'm fine. I just . . . I missed you. There will be time for this-" He kisses her softly. "-later. Right now I just want to talk. I want to hear how you've been. How have your cases been going?"

"But . . . I thought you were worried about Gates. I'm not on break, and if she catches us just lounging around in here talking-"

"Don't worry about it. Ryan's distracting her."

"I . . . okay. Yeah, sure."

They pull apart, and he reaches down to pick up the case file she dropped when she jumped him. He guides her over to the table in the center of the room and puts the file down.

They each take a seat.

It feels oddly formal.

"So." He laces his fingers together, leans on the table. "What's been going on?"

"Well," she begins, still put off by his strange behavior, "I've been working this one case . . ."

She quickly fills him in on the murder of the jogger in the park, just wanting to get this awkward conversation over with so that they can go back to being them. The them that involves flirty banter and passionate eye contact; not this weird mix of dropped kisses and stumbling words.

But he will have not of that.

He nods his head, listening intently to her every word.

"Yeah, Esposito was telling me about that when I got here," he says.

"And when exactly did you get back?"

"Back to New York? About two this morning. Here at the precinct? Around five thirty."

"You must be exhausted!"

"Yeah, but I wanted to surprise you."

He smiles.

It's contagious.

"Oh, and speaking of surprises," he says, "wait until you see the evidence that came in on that particular case this morning. Esposito should be bringing it in any second now. I told him I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw it."

"Why? What is it?"

His smile widens.

"You'll have to see."

At that exact moment, there's a knock on the door, and then Esposito's voice calls out, "It's me."

"Impeccable timing, that man."

He stands and walks to the door, opening it about halfway. She sees Esposito slip an evidence bag into his hand. She's curious, trying to lean a bit so she can see the bag, but Castle is using his body and the door to shield it from her sight. Before the door closes, she sees Esposito grinning broadly.

Strange day.

Castle strolls back over to the table, clutching the bag tightly so she still can't see what's inside. It's not until he sits down and wordlessly slides the bag over the table towards her that she gets a good look at the evidence that is so exciting to both him and apparently Esposito as well.

"A ring?" she asks. She's so confused. "What does this have to do with our case?"

"It doesn't." Her eyes snap up. His expression is dead serious.

"Well then what . . . ?" She trails off, mind spinning.

His eyes remain on her as he slides his hand into the bag, watching her piece everything together. He draws the ring out, holds it up to her.

"Marry me."

A/N: I have an idea for another chapter, but I still have a lot of kinks to work out so there's no telling when it will get done. Unfortunately, I cannot control when inspiration strikes. In the meantime, reviews are MUCH appreciated!