Disclaimer: Yeah right. I don't own Castle.

A/N: Another little fun short story I wrote this morning as a distraction. NOT going to be extended. Not my best, but I'm trying to work myself up to a real case fic! The idea of multiple threads all interwoven, and more particularly themes that tie to Caskett as they so often do on the show; this would best be classified as an experiment in that direction. Funny little gramma note: There is a correctly used apostrophe towards the end of the story; but it might look wrong at first :-) Read it again and you might see what he really means...

Unbeta-ed: Such resources are valuable and not wasted on stuff like this! All mistakes are mine.

Edited 9/10/23: Granted - To many typo's tried to fix some including the specific one in the Guest review (thanks!). There are probably still some left :-(

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Castle saw feet, feet in high heeled boots, out of the corner of his eye. He had an important task though, so the looming sense of dread those feet spurred to the fore of his mind would have to wait to be dealt with. He was on a quest, and import one.

One of the feet started tapping, just moments before the words reached around under the desk to, "Castle! What are you doing? We have to go. We have a body!"

He started to back out from under the desk, shuffling on hand and knees. Then he saw it, where it must have dropped and rolled under the side of the desk: his favorite pen, Edgar Allan Poe limited edition with the Raven nib. He didn't write novels with it any more, but still sketched scenes.

He held it up as he finally started stretch his frame upright, showing it to Beckett, "My lucky pen!"

Beckett given him the patented eye roll, she's thinks the pen is just a pen, he can tell, "You were crawling around under there for a pen?"

He was right, but he also has a secret, steps closer, crowding her, knowing she'd never backdown, "This is the pen I first used to sketch the outline for Nikki Heat, the first draft of page 105, this pen..."

She'd been staring at it since he mentioned Nikki, her eyes a touch wider than normal, before blurting out, "Canihaveit?"

Took him a moment to decipher that, "You want my lucky pen? Why?"

Beckett reached up to cup his cheek, smiling softly, affectionately at him, "You have then memories of writing all those things, I just have a signed book. I don't know, if I could have it with me it'd be something else to remind me of us, of what brought us together. I don't know Rick. Forget it Rick, I can't take your special pen."

He just help it out to her, waiting until she hesitantly took it and tilted her head to put it into her jacket pocket. He took advantage of that momentary distraction, closed in, crowded her back up against the wall and as she let out a little gap of surprise, met her open mouth with his own.

Bodies fully pressed together it was only a moment before their tongues where dancing, her hands had made it into his hair, and his were pushing her hips into the wall as his own hips were starting their own mamba rhythm against hers. Things quickly got heated, and when she let out a little moan into his mouth, he stepped back, hands on her hips stopping a momentary chase.

Castle smiled at her, her expression was not one of simple amusement, "Don't we have a body to get to detective?"

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Beckett rolled her cruiser slowly to a stop at the crime scene, tape blocking the loading dock entrance to Balducci's Meats. Glancing over to her partner, friend, fiancé, she saw he was writing in his note book. A different, larger fountain pen in hand, this one metallic, with inlays of green and flecks of darkness; if she'd had to guess, maybe it matched her eye color.

Getting out the car she leaned down to speak through the open door, "Castle? You coming or staying here." She watched his head twitched around momentarily as he realized they were there, he got so wrapped up in things sometimes, forgetting what was going on around him; most especially when writing.

He scrambled out of the car as she started walking towards the tape, "Yeah. Yeah. Coming."

When they made it to where Ryan and Esposito were waiting the found them just hanging arounds with the body; literally since it was dangling from a meat hook, the front of it covered in blood and the face pale.

Castle couldn't help himself, "Just hanging with you new friend boys?"

The comment earning him a punch on the arm from Beckett and Espo slyly slipping what looked like money over to Ryan , before grumbling, "Bro? Can't you ever be serious about stuff? We got a dead guy here not a joke."

Beckett interrupted by stepping closer to the body, slipping on her gloves, "What do we have guys?"

Ryan started the run down, speaking up before Espo to avoid and other snide remarks, "Marconi Balducci, 45, found and IDed by the foreman when he opened up this morning. Wallet is on him, confirms the ID, brother of the owner. Did the books according the foreman, on the side though, works for a big accounting firm. Class ring still there, watch too, it's an A. Lange & Söhne, had to google it, worth a fortune; doesn't look like a robbery."

Castle had to put is two cents again, "Not a robbery, personal or business, he's in the meat business, anyone else thinking mob?"

"Nope" "No" "Nah"

Ryan gave him a slap on the back, a good try pity it was a miserable failure, kind of pat, "Dude, it's a high end, high volume, old school butcher shop, not the meat packing district."

Esposito wanted to get everything else out, "Owner's on the way in, business office is upstairs, we haven't checked it out yet. Lanie will be here soon, she was just coming on shift when the call came, so we have no time of death yet."

"Ok guys, you know the drill, Ryan run the phones for Marconi and the office line here if he was the accountant, speak to the people he worked with, Esposito run his financials see of he could legitimately afford that watch."

"On it boss."

"Castle, you're with me, let's check out the business office upstairs."

As they walked up the narrow stairs Castle' hands kept brushing up against her ass, until she finally stopped and looked over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, "Really? We're working."

He shrugged, "Can help it, it's right there, so close and I like to touch things. It just gave me ideas that's all. Sorry."

She turned back around climbing the stairs again, "You know what gives a girl ideas Castle? Prime meat just hanging in front of my face. Not beef though. Another kind of meat. Maybe we can have something special to eat tonight?"

His footsteps had stopped on the stairs behind her and she grinned. "Catch up Castle!"

The office was small, and they we both horrified to see ledgers, not a computer; a seriously old school operation apparently. They both started nosing around, Beckett looking for anything out of place, knocked over, moved recently. Castle straight for the man ledger on the desk flipping it open to the last filled pages, seeing columns of numbers and a signature at the bottom of the page. The signature was unique, appearing to come from a italic fountain pen nib; he flipped back through the pages, same pen same signature at first.

"Beckett. Look at this."

Flipping through pages she noticed too, "The last few signatures, they're different."

"Yeah, but the pen didn't change."

"Marconi have a pen on him?"

"The guys did inventory, didn't mention one."

"Looks hinky."

There was a knock at the door and a uniform poked his head in, "Mr Balducci is here."

Beckett nodded, "Okay send him in and wait outside."

Mr Balducci was an interesting character, mid-forties, overly tanned, too many rings, balding.

"Mr Balducci, we're sorry for you loss, we'd like to ask a few questions if we could?"

"James, but everyone calls me Jimmie, who are you, I mean cops sure, but?"

Se held her hand out to shake by way of introduction, "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, and my partner Richard Castle."

"You got questions about my brother? Sandy, my foreman, he called me after he called the cops. Sorry but I don't know nothing."

Castle pulled out his note book and pen, "Do you mind if I take notes?" Receiving a shrug before he uncapped his pen and started to write, or scratch at the page.

He looked up at Jimmie, "Looks like I'm out of ink, got a pen I can borrow?"

"Uh. Sure." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a couple, one cheap disposable that he handed over, the other was a much older looking pen.

Castle took the disposable, "Thats a beautiful looking pen, may I look? Mine is a Graf, I find it sits so well in the hand." He held out the pen towards Jimmie, catching Beckett's amused expression from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah looks nice." They exchanged pen hostages as Jimmie clarified terms, "Look. Don't write."

Castle uncapped and examined it carefully, it was old, the nib worn, perhaps even replaced at one point, "It's beautiful, italic right? Does it have a history, a story?"

For the first time they was excitement on Jimmies face, this was something he wanted to talk about. "Yeah it was my grandfather's, he always loved the italic. That pen he started the store with, signed the first invoice, could say it's the reason the store exists."

They didn't get much more from him than that, he told them his brother did the books and they only met once a week to go over a few things; he'd verify everything and then sign the ledger.

"Well Jimmie, if we could ask you to wait here for while while we finish up enquiries here that would be helpful. Just in case we have any further questions.

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Back downstairs Lanie had arrived and gave them a quick greeting before getting down to business, "Time death sometime between 10 and midnight, it's cold in here, but so long as they didn't change the thermostat sometime last night that's the range."

"Guys? Did the foreman tell you if anything was going on last night?"

Espo had asked of course, "Yeah boss, weekly meat delivery; said he'd never seen Marconi here for one before, but he was last night, watching the whole thing. Delivery was finished unloading about 9PM."

Castle rubbed his hands together, almost in glee, but then seemed to remember it was a murder after all, "But the ledger was signed last night, but not by Marconi, and if he only signed once a week and looked back, that explains the mismatches for the last few days too."

The guys were looking a little confused, so Beckett filled them in, "The signatures in the ledger don't match guys, the last few are different, but written with the same pen it looks like."

"We don't find a pen on Marconi, nor did Lanie."

Castle was happy to add their discovery to that nugget, "Nope, but we did, Jimmie had it."

Beckett was getting frustrated, "I'm almost certain Jimmie did it, he has the pen, but what was the motive?"

Epso was the first to offer a suggestion, "Money. Seriously guys, the guy's a butcher driving a Maserati, and enough jewelry to drown him if he fell in the Hudson; he takes his money seriously."

"Espo seriously? The guy kills his brother, his accountant, of course it's about money! But about what exactly."

Castle butted in, "Money is cash."

Everyone was staring at him after that, only Espo worked up the gumption to respond, "Seriously Bro? You gone Rainman on us?"

Castle glared around at them, "Seriously? The accountant sees the money, it's all in the ledger, but he only sees cash if he watches it happen."

Beckett smiled broadly at him, shifting to stand close, shoulders touching, she was facing the guys but brushing against him as she expanded the theory, "Jimmie was working under the table too, selling on the side, a cash business. An illegal side business."

Ryan lifted a finger, processing a thought for a second, "That fits too. Marconi was a partner at Ernst & Young, absolutely loaded. I spoke to a couple of his colleagues briefly. They both said he wanted to retire, get back into the family business."

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All four of them were stood in the observation room, looking through the glass at Jimmie Balducci in the interrogation room. He was fiddling with his rings and cleaning under his nails with his teeth. They whole performance as making all of them wince.

Beckett glanced around, taking an unspoken vote, "So he did it, killed his brother who wanted to retire and buy back in, only he found there was illegal selling under the table."

Castle kept going, eager for a complete story, "Wanted Jimmie to come clean, it would come out eventually, and then everything would be at risk. The family legacy."

Ryan raised the problem, "We don't have enough to arrest him, no murder weapon, no DNA, no proof he was even there."

Beckett gave him a nod in agreement, "You're right, we haven't got enough to arrest, which is why he's just here to answer some more questions; on the side, no Miranda, and he hasn't asked for his lawyer. So we can still talk."

Castle had been looking at him through the glass, and was twiddling with his pen, "We have the legacy Beckett, he got really excited about the pen, the legacy of the store, the family history."

Beckett faced him, waiting for him to turn back to her, "You think we threaten it? Threaten to take that legacy from the family?"

They were grinning at each other after that, a look of understanding passing between them.

"Let's go Castle! Let's rock his foundation."

They both entered the interrogation room wearing their game faces, Beckett starting the ball rolling, "Mr Balducci, we'd like to ask you some follow up questions about the business."

He seemed a little surprised, head drawing back quizzically, "Not about Marconi?"

"Well yes, about your brother too. Like why you killed him?"

Jimmie was spluttering, "What? I got no motive to kill my brother! He's family, generations of us, we've stuck together."

"You sold meat from the store under the table Jimmie! That's motive."

"So what if I was running a cash only business on the side, it's not illegal."

Castle and Beckett shared glance: seriously? Castle decided to clue him in, "Of course it's illegal Jimmie. It's sales tax evasion."

"Bah! It's a misdemeanor right?"

Beckett shook her head, "For the volume you were moving? Nope. Felony Jimmie. Felony."

"So what you gonna try to Capone me?"

Castle had to give him kudos for that, it was good line, "Capone was chased by the Feds Jimmie, the IRS; sale tax, well it's state isn't it."

Beckett decided to push a little, they had an edge now, something to push against, something he'd just confused to, "State tax evasion Jimmie. They're going of take your business. Close it down. Eliminate your family's livelihood. End your father and his father's legacy. That's what you get for selling meat under the table."

"Wait a minute.."

"No Jimmie, the accountants, they're already going over your books; looking at your bank accounts, matching cash flows."

"But.."

"About this murder Jimmie. You know, the one where you killed Marconi? Well you tell us all the details, confess, and all this other stuff becomes much less interesting. Maybe your wife gets to keep the business, can still afford to send your four kids to private school."

"You put that writing?"

"Yeah Jimmie, we'll put it in writing if you do too."

"I wanna talk to my lawyer, but we might be able to deal."

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Rick was sitting at his desk, head back, just relaxing at the end of the case and in Kate's company. They were so good together, he knew it, had known it, and looking forward to more of it.

"Hi dad!"

He jerked upright to chair, twitching, there was thumping noise under the desk and he whimpered. Eyes flashing open he saw his daughter in the office doorway, now with a slightly confused and concerned expression on her face.

"You ok dad?"

Hs mind could barely string a thought together, but he managed to spin something right then as he gasped aloud, "Subbed my toe Pumpkin."

Alexis was giving him a very skeptical look, a time out was definitely needed. Rick slipped his hands from where they had been resting on his desk, clenched into fists, below the desk and into Kate's hair. He tried to pull her back, but she was having none of it, sucking harder, pressing her teeth into him in warning. He couldn't help by whimper again. The heat of her mouth all around him, tongue rolling and curling around him and the occasional scrape of teeth; it had all recentered his brain to his groin.

"I though we had dinner plans? You, me, Kate. Where is Kate?"

"She's... gasp... Busy."

"Maybe I should call her?"

"No!.. Working... Hard... Full plate."

"Ok. You want to go out to dinner?

"Can't sorry... gasp.. damn toe.. gotta write.. stay here... idea's coming."

"Well I'm going to grab a bite ok? See you later."

"Bye..."

It was only when he heard the front door close that he relaxed. Though clearly relaxing wasn't quite the right word for it, but he was entirely consumed by a different sort of stress now. One centered in the feeling of Kate's mouth around him still, she'd slipped her hand below him too now, holding his balls cupped loosely, rolling them like a stress reliever and in time to the swirls she was making with her tongue around the flesh in her mouth.

He looks down under the desk only to see the shadows of hair grasped in his hands and two eye staring back at him. Again he tried to tug her higher, wanting to feel her lips on his, consume her mouth, touch her all over, draw his love on to her skin with gentle caresses. No, she resisted, a growl which shook right through him, a shake of her head, pulling his erection in her most through a roller coaster of new motions; and last, an acceleration, both hands, lips, tongue, everything moving faster now.

He felt the tension barreling toward a conclusion, knew she could feel the extra tension I josh thighs as they squeezed agin her body trapped between them, the clenching and twitching of his abdominal muscles. Her response was to hum encouragement to him, to deepen her movements. Aiming to drive all coherent thought from his mind, and she succeeded. The climax of his evening was mind numbing in the sheer expanse of its reach, all through his body, his mind and soul. He feel of her mouth sucking him down, swallowing everything he has to give just made his entire body vibrate for longer; the she'd twist or lick again, set him quivering all over again until it just became too much and he pulled back.

This time when he pulled her up his body she came willingly, smiling, grinning like a Cheshire Cat even as she pushed his chair back and climbed immediately into his lap. She sat across him, not straddling, but peacefully a rest and ticked her head into his neck where she nibbled slowly and gently. She murmured into him, "Love you Rick, sleep now; we'll write more story with our lucky pen when you wake."