A/N: This has been in my head for a while and once, I sat down to write it, it just flowed. I hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to my brilliant beta Jana – this one took some work!

I do not own Castle or any of its characters.

It shouldn't have affected her, but it did. The moment they'd stepped into the alleyway, her stomach had started to tighten; the second she saw a woman, mid-thirties, with long brown hair wearing a brown trench coat slumped against the wall she'd begun to feel sick. They'd all noticed the similarities, the only thing that was different was the lack of blood. This woman had been strangled. The vivid purple bruises were stark against the woman's ivory white skin; a plastic bag that had been forced over the woman's head was being removed by Lanie. Red roses, tattered, lay strewn across the alleyway. Kate shuddered, trying to forget the photos of her mother on the night she'd been murdered. Everyone was tip-toeing around her, except Castle. He'd arrived late on the scene - he'd been trying to catch up with his writing. He'd taken one look at the body, handed her the coffee, then had grasped her spare hand. It was subtle. They'd only been 'together' for a matter of weeks and no one really knew. But he could tell she needed that sense of comfort, the reassurance that one of 'her people' was still around and knew how she was feeling, but wouldn't make a huge deal of it.

They'd driven back to the precinct in silence. Her eyes were on the road and his were on her, his brow furrowed and his blue eyes filled with unspoken concern. He could tell from the tenseness of her body, the way her knuckles were white on the steering wheel that she was not okay. But he also knew she thrived on being in control, needing to be strong. The moment he voiced his concerns, she would close up, or break down, and for her own sake he knew that she needed to stay composed. To find solace in helping a family similar to her own.

That was the worst part. She'd been tasked with telling the family. It was late, around eleven o'clock at night so they followed the address on the woman's ID. Jane Buckingham – the same initials. They knocked on the door and it was opened by a man, probably in his early forties with a girl behind him, probably late teens. Castle's grip on her hand tightened.

They'd been having dinner, or waiting to anyway. Jane had been working late for the past few weeks and they were using this meal to catch up, to sort things out and to resume the normality of family life. But Jane had never showed. The husband, Jonathan, had tried calling her phone several times and she hadn't picked up. Eventually, he'd left a message on her phone and he and his daughter Kristina had returned home, awaiting her return. From questioning the family it seemed that they knew very little about recent events in Jane's working life, she'd been working late and leaving early, so they'd barely seen her.

"You'll find who did this, won't you Detective?" the teenager had looked so desperate, so grief-stricken that Castle's chest had tightened. He glanced over to Kate, waiting for the usual response of 'We'll do everything we can'. But to his surprise, she took the girl's hand and her tone was low, almost dangerous.

"I promise."

They didn't speak after they left the family's home, but once at the precinct she went into work-mode. In a matter of seconds she lost the softness that he'd seen in her over the past few weeks and reverted back to the Detective he'd initially met all that time ago. She was work obsessed, driven, desperate to get to the answer. But, as he watched her as daylight broke he knew she was on edge. In a way she wasn't working to bring justice to Jane, she wanted to bring justice to her mother. He stood, taking her hand and leading her into the break room. "Kate, you need coffee and a moment's rest." They'd been working non-stop all night, going through work records and beginning to start contacting colleagues. He pulled out a chair for her in the break room and gently sat her down, resisting the urge to kiss her head, to offer the type of comfort a boyfriend could give. When making the coffee, his eyes were on her all the time. Bringing the coffee to the table, handing her a cup, he sat down. "She's not your mother, Kate."

There was a silence, and then she nodded "I know that, Castle." Her words were clipped, tight. She was still trying to retain her composure. Her hands were clasped on the table in front of her, ignoring her cup of steaming coffee. He placed his hands around hers.

"But do you, Kate?" He looked her straight in the eye. They retained eye contact for a moment before she dropped her gaze to their hands. "I can already see you drowning. You're too close to this."

She gulped hard, and when she glanced up at him he could see her eyes were glassy. "I'm trying to give that girl the closure I never got." Her voice was gravelly with emotion and he shook his head.

"Not like this, you can't do it like this." He took a deep breath. "Can I suggest something? And please hear me out first?" She nodded, "I think you should take the day off, we'll both come back tomorrow morning and you'll be fresh and ready to fight this. I trust Esposito and Ryan, and I know you do too, so let's give them some time to work some leads and give you time to distance yourself."

He'd expected a fight, a stubborn refusal to back away from this case, especially after she'd promised justice to that girl. But he knew she was feeling trapped, like the memories of her mother's case were threatening to consume her again. She simply nodded and got to her feet. He also pulled out his chair and, as she moved to walk past him, he grabbed her arm. "Kate," he murmured and her downward gaze flicked upwards, questioning yet subdued. "I'm going to hug you now okay?" He murmured, "As a friend, I'm going to hug you." Again she nodded and he wrapped his arms around her petite frame. She made no move to return the embrace but he felt her relax slightly in his arms. He fought the surge to press a kiss to her head, knowing that doing so would lead to questions from the 12th that neither he, nor Kate, were ready for yet. He released her and she left the break-room, walking straight into Gates' office. As he went into the main office area, Esposito and Ryan turned to look at him, their gaze questioning. He simply shook his head, willing them not to ask questions. The door to Gates' office re-opened and Kate emerged. She was entirely business-like in the way she approached her desk, gathering her things. She was Detective Kate Beckett, dangerous and unapproachable. As she walked towards the elevator, Rick wondered whether he should go after her, or give her a moment alone. But, as she pressed the button, she turned around to look at him, her eyes willing him to follow her. And of course he did.

As soon as those elevator doors closed her arms were around him. Tight, in need of comfort. They stood still, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his around her waist, his lips pressed to the top of her head, feeling her slow steady breathing.

They went back to her apartment, ordered in Chinese food and watched crappy movies for the rest of the day. They didn't talk much. He wasn't sure what the right thing to say was and she was completely content to just sit there and enjoy his company. Eventually, the evening came. "Bed, love." He murmured, and she went with him. They changed into their sleeping attire with barely a word and climbed into her bed. At first, he thought that after a day of close contact, she might not want to lie so close together but she pulled him to her. She was facing away from him but pulled his arm over her waist and he followed her lead, lying close against her and holding her close enough to let her know he was there, but not so tightly to be restricting. It didn't take them long to fall asleep; after staying awake for so long and having such an emotionally strenuous day, they were both exhausted.

Rick stirred, taking a moment to register where he was. They normally stayed at the loft, not at Kate's. But as he became fully awake he began to recognize things, her closet, her jewellery box. But Kate wasn't beside him, curled up into a little ball like she normally did in the night. The door to the ensuite bathroom was closed, but a thin line of light was visible under the door. She must've woken and gone in there. With a small groan he sat upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing, pulling on the blue dressing gown he kept in her room – Kate's apartment was always freezing, something he didn't quite understand after their near escape from freezing to death. He wondered if he should go in there but restrained himself. Then he heard her voice. "Daddy?" Rick glanced over at the clock on her bedside table. It was two in the morning, why was she ringing her father? "No Daddy, I'm fine, I just wanted... to hear your voice." The case was obviously really affecting her, by calling her father 'Daddy', by the quiet tone, she sounded so vulnerable. It was all he could do to stop himself from going in there and wrapping her in his arms. "Yeah," he could hear the tears in her voice. "Tough case." Then the shuddery inhale. "It just reminds me of Mom and you... us, when we..." there was another pause. "I know, I love you too, Dad." She was regaining her strength, this was good. He slowly pushed open the door. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bathtub with her legs drawn up in front of her. As he walked in, she looked up at him and gave him a weak smile. He spotted the tear tracks on her cheeks. He settled himself on the floor beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder and she relaxed into him. "He's with me Dad, he's looking after me." Rick smiled at her, pleased she was accepting his help. A few years ago, this would've been an impossibility. "I will Dad, I promise. I love you, stay safe and sleep well." She put the phone down with a sigh, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you." She whispered and, with the arm wrapped around her, he gave her a light squeeze.

"Always."

He ended up carrying her into bed, and this time she curled up against him, her head resting on his chest. "I love you." She murmured into the darkness and he kissed the top of her head lightly.

"I love you too, Kate. Try and get some more sleep."

They woke early the next day and the first thing Kate did was to check her messages. She was no longer off duty, she was ready to fight back and prove herself. He was still waking up, watching her as she was listening to her messages, despite the fact that she was turned away from him. He gently reached up and put his hand on her shoulder and she turned, giving him a small smile, showing him she was okay. "Co-workers noticed she was becoming rather friendly with one of the new guys at the firm." She told him, her tone was business-like, "It's possible that he has something to do with it. The boys have him in for questioning at the moment." She gave his arm a small squeeze, "I'd like to go in and get back into this case." She paused, eyeing him carefully, but with power, telling him not to fight her. "I'm ready for this Rick, I swear." And he nodded, pulling himself upright.

"Well, let's get going then."

The 12th was thriving with activity, the whiteboard carefully annotated. They had the new co-worker in for questioning when they arrived but, instead of going straight into the observation room, Kate went to the whiteboard. Rick watched as she scanned it, taking in all of the new information – timelines, suspects, victim information. Then she turned, giving him a small nod and the two of them went into the observation room.

The man must've been in his forties. He was reasonably good-looking with almost black hair, interrupted by the emergence of a few grey hairs. He seemed upset, his light blue eyes red rimmed and he was frowning. Whoever this guy was, it didn't seem likely that he was their killer. "We were going to run away together!" he told Esposito who was coolly watching him, "She'd just phoned me to tell me that she was about to end it with her husband, then we could leave and go wherever I wanted to..." the man trailed off, a few tears coursing down his cheeks. "I don't know what I'm going to do without her."

Kate turned and left, hearing all she needed to. Rick spent a few extra moments observing the man. He definitely wasn't who they were looking for. When he left the observance room he found Kate at her desk, she swivelled her chair to face him. "She wouldn't have been going to tell her husband at the meal if their daughter was there." She had those two little lines on either side of her nose; she always got them when she was thinking hard, "Castle, focus." He was snapped out of his thoughts.

"But then why was she going to the meal? Surely she would've told the husband on the phone, she would've wanted to get hold of him."

They were interrupted as Esposito and Ryan approached them, "Something isn't right here." Ryan stated, facing their thoughts.

"I think we ought to pull Jonathan Buckingham's phone records." Kate's gaze had turned steely, "Let's see if he really couldn't get hold of her."

Looking at the records, it slowly unravelled. She'd had a 10 minute conversation with her lover at around 8. Then she'd had a 15 minute conversation with her husband at around 8:30 and no other missed calls or any taken ones – the husband who'd said he hadn't been able to call her or know where she was. Esposito turned, grabbing the phone. "I think it's time we got the daughter in."

It was up to Kate to run this interrogation, they'd decided that since the two had seemed to get along alright when they'd met earlier, it would be easier on the girl. Jonathan hadn't been happy when he'd found out he wasn't going to be allowed in for the interview. "It's just some routine questions, sir, I'm sure you'll understand that we need to examine everything carefully if we're going to find your wife's killer." But Kate's tone was strained; she had a terrible feeling forming in the pit of her stomach about the identity of Jane's killer. The girl looked terribly nervous as Kate walked in, she sat down opposite her and her voice became soft. "It's okay." She murmured, "You're not in any trouble, we just want to get our timeline sorted out. The girl had nodded. "What we want to know is how many times your father left the restaurant to phone your mother and for how long."

The girl had frowned, "Why?"

"It would just make things a lot clearer for us."

The girl had nodded hesitantly. "Well, at first he tried calling her when we were in the restaurant, but he couldn't get through to her. But then he said he couldn't hear if it went to voicemail or if Mom was actually picking up so he went outside. He was out there for a while, I think he tried to call her several times."

Kate nodded, taking note, "And how long was he out of the restaurant?"

The girl had shrugged, "About 45 minutes, maybe more. I was playing with my phone and then my food came so I'm not entirely sure."

"Can you remember what time your father stepped out?"

"At about 8:30."

It was all they needed to know.

From looking at the distance between the restaurant to the area they'd found the body, they realised it was a 5 minute walk (if he'd walked quickly). That would give the father enough time to take the 15 minute call, 5 minutes to walk there, 10 to do the deed and another 5 to walk back - and that was if there timings were correct – they could check to see if there was any CCTV footage from outside the bar to make sure. She made a call to Lanie to see if there was anything extra in the bag that they'd found over her head and they struck gold. There had been a receipt in the bag, and it was salvageable. Along with that there was Jane's DNA and residue which had been left by flowers. Lanie was running the outside of the bag for prints as they spoke.

They'd kept the daughter and the father in separate rooms, not giving the father any chance of skipping out on them. They were pretty sure they'd found their killer, now they needed a confession. Kate had initially thought that Esposito and Ryan were going to carry out the interrogation but they had only shaken their heads, stating that she was the perfect woman for the job. And she had Castle by her side to make her feel safe.

Jonathan looked significantly nervous as they walked in, his hands clasped on the table, his eyes darting around the room. "Afternoon Mr Buckingham." She was business like, cool, not letting anything show across her face. She and Castle sat down opposite him. "We wanted to go over a few things with you, a few things that haven't added up."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about."

Kate brought out the folders and began flicking through them, carefully, drawing out the moment and heightening the man's tension. "Oh really?" she frowned, her voice taking on the quality of mocking sincerity, "Because you told us you couldn't get hold of your wife that night. And when we checked her phone records, you had a 15 minute conversation with her relatively close to when she was killed."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

Kate raised an eyebrow, "The problem is, Mr Buckingham, you lied to me. When someone lies to me, I think they've got something to hide. I think that's what's going on in your case." The man said nothing, neither denying nor agreeing, so she pressed on. "Why didn't you tell us she was having an affair Mr Buckingham?"

The man's gaze flicked down to his hands, "That stuff is private."

"Nothing's private in a murder investigation." Kate sighed, "Now you see Mr Buckingham. By lying to me, keeping vital information from me... you haven't really helped yourself have you?" She went in for the kill. "So do you know what I think? I think you killed her, you could've easily got to her, killed her and walked back to the restaurant in the time when you were out of sight from your daughter."

The man raised his eyebrow, leant back in his seat and crossed his arms. "Detective, that's all circumstantial, you haven't got any actual evidence."

"I think you're forgetting," she was practically spitting her words now, "That the bag was still over her head when we found her, Mr Buckingham." She leant forward slightly, her eyes narrowing like a lion about to jump in to catch their prey. "And I bet your fingerprints are all over it." The man blanched slightly and Kate carried on, "And did you forget? There was a receipt in there too." A dangerous smirk played across her lips, "I bet, if we tried, we could trace it back to your credit card." Castle watched as beads of sweat began to stand out on the man's brow. "That's pretty concrete evidence, Mr Buckingham." She snarled. Then, quick as a flash, her demeanour changed and she leant back in her seat. "But I can give you some help, Mr Buckingham, a hint." It seemed to have the desired effect, the man seemed to be hanging on her every word, desperate for a way out. "If you confess," she was almost purring now, "Plead guilty, it can help with your sentence, maybe lessen it a bit." She waited, watching him carefully. "So, what do you say?"

There was silence, then he started to speak, stuttering, falling over himself. "Things... things hadn't been easy in a long time. The dinner was supposed to... supposed to help make things better. I'd even bought her a present, some flowers and a bracelet, they weren't hugely expensive, but it was the thought that counted right?" he paused, his eyes wide and desperate. "But then I get her phone call," anger was beginning to seep into his voice, "Saying it was over, that she'd found some other guy and that she was leaving me, our family, for him." He shuddered, "That couldn't happen. So I told her to stay where she was, that I'd send Kristina home and that we could talk face-to-face, that it couldn't be done over the telephone." He gave a small, manic laugh, "and she agreed, so I went straight there, I took the bag." He paused, "I... I couldn't convince her to stay. She was determined to break up her family. I figured it would be better for Kristina to think she was dead and part of our family rather than know her own mother wanted to leave us." He stopped, looking at his hands, "So I... I took the bag, threw the presents to the ground and... when her back was turned, I put it over her head." He shuddered, "She tried to fight, but I was stronger. Then I... I ran back to the restaurant, waited for a little while, and then I took Kristina home."

Kate barely waited for him to sign the admission form before she was out of there, Esposito and Ryan took charge of the actual arrest. She just about made it to a small, empty room off of the main precinct building before she broke and Rick followed her. She fell into his arms as sobs wracked her body, the realisation hitting that this truly was not her mother's case, but that she'd given justice to a girl just like her. He gently rubbed her back as she experienced her catharsis. Once she'd stopped crying she didn't break away but rested her head on his shoulder, her lips pressed against his neck. He could feel her getting her breath back, calming herself. Then she stepped back, pushed her hair out of her red-rimmed eyes and gave him a smile, one that reached her eyes. She gave him a curt nod. "Let's go give Kristina her closure."

They sat facing one another, the girl was bent over, head in her hands. "I thought it couldn't get any worse," her voice trembling, "but it did." She inhaled with a shudder, "I wish I'd never found out."

Kate leant over and squeezed her hand, "In time, you'll be glad." She reasoned, "In time, you'll be glad your mother got the closure she deserved. The grief will fade eventually. You'll still miss her, and you'll still resent your father. But, after a while, it won't hurt so much." She reached into her pocket, "This is my card," she passed it to her, "If you ever need to talk, don't hesitate to call me, about anything, okay?" The girl nodded. "You will get through it, I promise." They got to their feet and Kate gave the girl a brief hug. They walked out to the main precinct and the girl walked towards the elevator, joined by a couple in their mid-seventies.

Kate felt Rick by her side, his fingertips brushing the back of her hand, "Where will she go?"

"Her maternal grandparents," she watched as the couple embraced the girl and the group walk into the elevator, "She has a home with them for as long as she needs it." The elevator doors closed, "Thank you for being there for me, through all of this, it can't have been fun."

Castle smiled, "I told you... always." She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his as the precinct erupted in shouts of surprise and wolf-whistles.

She felt at home at last.

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