The door closed behind Rachel McCord, and Kate collapsed on the couch like marionette whose strings had suddenly been snipped.

The visit had been brief, no more than five minutes. Really, what else was there to say after, "You're fired"?

Except, "I'm going to need your service weapon and ID."

That had stung. Deeply.

But McCord had made an effort to be gentle, assuring Kate she'd get a generous severance and positive recommendations.

All Kate had managed to choke out was a redundant, "Are you sure?"

"All too sure, I'm afraid. They wouldn't have made me the messenger if they were indecisive about it. You messed up, Beckett, for the noblest reason, sure, but we both know you struggle with following blind orders."

"Who made the call?"

"Kate—"

"Who, Rachel?"

McCord sighed in resignation before answering Kate's question. "Villante saw the news and knew that someone here leaked it. He took heat from the CIA, then confronted me first. But I was with Agent Wright when the call was made from the 12th to the news station. That left you, and you just confirmed it."

"So Villante told you to fire me if I confessed?" Kate said, realizing she'd pretty much been baited. It was an interrogation technique she knew well — pretend you have concrete proof and wait for the suspect to implicate themselves. But looking at McCord, Beckett knew her partner hadn't been fishing for a confession; she'd already known Kate was the leak.

"He was under orders from Freedman." McCord paused, knowing the Deputy Director had been the one to hire Kate only a few short months ago. "Kate, listen —"

"No, I get it. I was already on thin ice after everything with Castle and what happened with Secretary Reed. And you're right, I'm not very good at being a foot soldier." Her voice was clipped, but she conceded, "Maybe this is for the best."

McCord took that as her cue to leave, but first she offered, "There will probably be some paperwork to fill out. I can have them send it to you if you want."

Beckett shook her head, the weight and implications of everything finally beginning to settle. "No, I'll need to go back to DC anyway, so I'll come by the office. At the very least, I owe Freedman an apology."

McCord nodded, then added, "It really was great working with you, Kate." She nodded solemnly to Castle and regretfully accepted the badge and gun Kate held out to her, before stepping into the hallway and out of their lives.

Castle closed the door, then turned around in time to see Kate drop to the couch, covering her face as she leaned down so that her hands created a barrier between her head and knees. Castle stood for a moment by the door, not sure what the best course of action was — whether to offer her comfort or privacy. His indecision lasted only a matter of seconds before he was striding to the sofa and gathering her in his arms. There was a time such an overtly physical demonstration of comfort would have been unwelcome, as it would have signaled weakness or dependency for the indomitable receiver. But those days were long past, and as Kate folded into him, he was grateful to be able to offer what solace he could.

"Castle, what did I do?" she whispered, her voice soft and fractured with emotion.

"Your job," he offered sincerely, barely able to imagine what she was feeling.

But she just shook her head and laughed bitterly, "No, if I had done my job, I'd still have it."

"Yes, and Svetlana Renkov would be on her way to Russia with a target on her back. You did your job, Kate. You protected the victim."

This time, she nodded silently, then just let him hold her as tears slipped down her face. They stayed that way for a while, both silent and lost in their own thoughts about what had happened.

Finally, Kate sniffed and wiped her tears before sitting up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Castle ventured.

"I don't even know what to say. A few minutes ago, you were moving to D.C. to be with me, and now it looks like I'm coming back to New York."

"You don't have to, you know," he posited tentatively, "We could stay in Washington if you want, if you like it there. You could look for another job in the area."

"Doing what, Capitol security?" she replied derisively, then softened and smiled at his endless support and generosity. He really would do anything for her. "No, I was only there for one reason, and now it's gone."

Castle hesitated, moving his mouth but struggling to find the words he wanted to say. Finally, he managed to put his thoughts together. "Do you ... I mean ... have you thought about talking to Freedman, asking him to reconsider."

But Kate just shook her head determinedly. "No, not this time. Rachel is right, if they sent her and didn't even wait for us to get back, they're serious." She paused and took a deep breath. "And I can't blame them. I can't be trusted to follow orders. Never could. But I thought with this job, I'd be serving a higher purpose, and I wouldn't have to break the rules. I thought that's what these people did. I thought breaking the rules was part of the job description, but it turns out, they are more beholden to the rules than anyone. I guess it was only a matter of time until I came up against that wall."

Castle smiled, despite himself. "Must be my bad influence on you."

She smiled back, "Must be."

Castle met her eyes and saw the sadness in them. He knew she was facing the mortality of her professional identity and wasn't sure what to do with her feelings about it. All he wanted was to give her the reassurance he knew she needed, in any form he could offer it.

"If it makes you feel any better, Kate, I think I love you more now than I ever have," he said solemnly, referencing their conversation from a short while earlier. "You're the bravest, most honorable woman I've ever known, and you took a big risk that may have saved a woman's life. If the guys in D.C. can't see that, they don't deserve you."

She brought her palm to his cheek and stoked softly, feeling the stubble scratch against her fingertips. "Thank you, Castle. I can't say I'm feeling that way quite yet, but thank you."

Taking her hand, he stood up and tugged her after him. "Come on."

"We are we going?"

"To the kitchen. I have four half-gallons of ice cream, and I can't think of a better occasion to eat them," he explained, looking back and smiling at her tenderly. "You up for it?"

"As long as at least two of the flavors involve chocolate."