A/N: This is my winter ficathon entry, just a quick one to get out here while I keep editing my NaNoWriMo story. This follows the third prompt, and will include the words Tyson, Mexico City and Castle's annotated copy of "Casino Royale". Enjoy!

June 2010

His voice was a desperate hiss down the phone line and Beckett balanced the cell precariously, tilting her head to cradle the handset between her ear and her shoulder.

"What's your point?" she managed, wrestling with the pans in the cupboard and scowling.

"I-" he paused as everything crashed to the floor and Kate swore under her breath. "What was that? Are you okay? What are you doing?"

She cursed again, softly. "I'm trying to bake cookies," she admitted through clenched teeth.

"Oh. You bake? It doesn't sound like it's going very well," he chuckled.

"I bake," Kate said, indignantly. She sank down onto the cool tiles of the kitchen floor with a sigh. "What did you want, anyway, Castle?"

"I-uh." He was suddenly hesitant. "To be rescued," he managed, and she shook her head.

"What? Rescued from what, exactly?"

"Uh- my mother has friends over. They're... loud. They're drinking. They're… dancing. And singing."

Beckett raised her eyebrows. "I thought you and Gina were up at the Hamptons. Is your mother there too?"

"Oh," he said. "No. No, I came home."

"Are you okay?" she asked, curious.

"Uh-huh," he affirmed. But his tone was unconvincing and she sighed, considering.

"So you're back in the city. Do you wanna come over?" She threw her hand over her mouth. Where had that come from? Since when did she go around issuing invitations to Castle? And since when did he call her? It was usually the other way round, on the way to a crime scene, and he'd made it abundantly clear that he wasn't interested in following her around this summer.

He was silent for a moment. "I don't want to intrude," he said at last.

She snorted. "I'm baking cookies, Castle. You wouldn't be intruding."

"Okay," he agreed, and he hung up, leaving her confused. Was he actually coming over?

She had thought he was in the Hamptons. She had thought she wouldn't see him until the fall. A small part of her had questioned whether she would even see him then. He had Gina; what did he need with a muse if he had his ex-wife to keep him occupied, amused and inspired?

Beckett stood up, picking up the pans that had fallen onto the floor and selecting the baking sheet that she'd wanted in the first place, setting it on the counter. She shrugged. He could come over if he wanted, it wasn't going to stop her from doing what she needed to do before tomorrow. She opened her pantry and rifled through it. Flour. Sugar. Cinnamon. Well. That was a start she supposed, although she would need to get butter before she could actually bake the cookies.

The knock on the door caused Kate to jump in spite of herself . He'd gotten here more quickly than she'd expected and she took an impulsive look in the mirror before opening the door to find an apparently cheery Richard Castle on the other side.

"Hi," he greeted her, handing over a large grocery bag with a beaming smile.

"What's this?" she asked.

He had the good grace to look abashed. "Cookie stuff. I wasn't sure if you had everything you needed." He wiped his brow. "Though I have no idea why you're baking in this weather."

"Thanks," she said, accepting the grocery bag and gesturing for Castle to come in. "I didn't have butter," she admitted. He grinned.

"You're welcome," he told her.

She set the bag on the counter, wincing as she saw Castle looking around her apartment. "It's all I could get on short notice," she said, defending the studio sublet, and he shrugged.

"You should have stayed with me until you found somewhere better," he said, and she shook her head.

"It's fine, Castle. It's just temporary. I'll start looking for something more permanent after the summer." It wasn't that bad. It was just… small. But it was in a decent neighborhood, and a second floor walk-up wasn't the end of the world, even if there was only a room divider separating her bed from the living room.

He nodded, drumming his fingers against the counter and she bit her lip. Why was he here? They'd never exactly had a drop-in-on-each-other kind of relationship and after he'd left the precinct, his arm around Gina, she had doubted they would ever have any kind of relationship again. She stared at him, full of mistrust and doubt, but she blinked at last.

"You want a drink?" she offered, and he nodded.

"Coffee?"

"Sure." Kate switched the coffee maker on, the sound of the machine filling the awkward silence. "So- uh-" She ducked her head. "I thought I wasn't going to see you until the Fall?"

Castle shrugged. "My plans changed," he said, and she thought she saw a cloud pass over his face before it was gone, a smile plastered on his lips. "What are you doing home baking on a Saturday night anyway?" he asked. "I thought you'd be out with Demming."

She didn't miss the tone of disdain in his voice at Tom's name, and she shrugged, averting her eyes. "You called and asked me to rescue you even though you thought I was with Tom?"

He shrugged. "I was desperate," he told her, a smirk on his face, but Beckett thought she heard a hint of loneliness in his voice.

"Tom and I broke up," she told him shortly, turning and pulling mismatched mugs from the cupboard above the sink.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. She doubted it. "So what are you doing for the rest of the summer if you're not up at the Hamptons?" she asked, pouring the coffee and handing Castle a cup.

"I still have to write," he told her.

"Even without Gina on top of you?" Kate asked with a raised eyebrow. Seriously. What was he doing here? Why had she answered the phone? And then the door? If he'd called a day later she would have been gone already, out of cell phone range.

"We broke up, too," he admitted, running a hand through his hair and leaning back at the counter. "If you can call it that. It took exactly two weeks for both of us to remember what we hated about one another." It was Castle's turn to refuse to meet Beckett's eyes and she took a sip of her own coffee with a shrug.

"It's none of my business," she said, turning back to the bag again and pulling out the baking supplies. "Impressive," she told him, holding up the icing pens and he chuckled.

"So what are we baking for?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm baking so I have cookies to take up to my dad's cabin," she said. "I'm going up tomorrow, and dad will be there for a day, so I'm taking some to him."

"You're taking some vacation days?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Uh-huh. A week. I'm going upstate tomorrow morning." She smiled at the thought; her bike and the open road were calling. The heatwave in the city was taking its toll; the AC in this apartment was sporadic at best, and warm summer nights at the lake would be welcomed.

"What do you usually do up at your cabin?" Castle asked as she switched the oven on to pre-heat it and reached for the mixing bowl under the sink.

Beckett shrugged. "Read. Swim." His eyes lit up at the mention of swimming, and she scowled at him, recalling their conversation about swimsuits not long before he'd taken off for the Memorial Day weekend. With Gina. "I usually take a pack and go camping for a few days."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?" Kate handed Castle the butter and a saucepan. "Can you melt this please?"

He nodded, taking it and lighting one of the gas burners on the stove top. "I mean, yeah- you take a pack? And hike? Aren't you already camping? If you're at the cabin?"

"Camping at the cabin? Indoor camping isn't a thing, Castle." Kate smirked. "No, I take a tent, a sleeping bag and a stove. I take some food and I hike until I get to a secluded spot."

"And then what?"

Kate smiled, thinking of the trips she'd done in the past. And then… nothing. She loved sitting back, not a thing to do, looking at nothing but an endless expanse of sky and lake and trees; the perfect antidote to a hectic city life interspersed with homicide on a daily basis. "And… nothing. Hiking. Camping. Sleeping." She shrugged.

"Sounds... fun," Castle said but the look in his eyes was skeptical.

"It is," Beckett insisted. She looked at him, amused. "You've never been camping, have you?"

"I've been camping," he protested. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I have. And hiking. I've just never hiked particularly far from… well, my car. But when Alexis was little I bought a tent and we camped on the edge of our property at the Hamptons. How is that different to you camping at your dad's cabin?"

"Oh yeah?" she challenged, sifting the flour into a bowl and accepting the cinnamon that Castle handed her. "Did you and Alexis build a fire by yourselves?"

"Well, uh- no," he confessed. "We cooked in the house. And when Alexis got scared in the middle of the night, we went back inside."

"Alexis, huh?" she asked, chuckling at the thought of Castle trying to take his daughter camping and he tore his gaze from the stove top to glare at her.

"Are you implying that I'd be scared of camping, Detective?" he asked.

Beckett smirked. "We could find out," she said. "You should come with me tomorrow." Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd just said; the invitation had escaped her lips before she could stop it. She chanced a glance look up from the mixing bowl, sure he would decline with a smart remark.

The look on his face, though, was one of wonder. "Really?" he asked, disbelief apparent in his eyes.

"Really," Beckett said, decisive; the invitation was out now and she wasn't going to shy away. "I wouldn't have said anything if I didn't mean it," she assured him with a white lie. She shrugged. Well. Maybe she hadn't exactly intended to invite Castle, but the idea had... merit.