"Oh my God." It was all Castle could say, so he said it over and over. With each turn of the page, he let the phrase slip from his lips with a little more enthusiasm. His excitement becoming so overwhelming, it was causing the other two men in the room to feel uncomfortable.

"Where did you get this?" He nearly screamed when he came to the last page. His effervescent eyes were unwilling to depart from the small book in his hands; his smile so wide it would shame a child's on Christmas morning. With exuberance, he returned to the front cover to peruse lavishly once again.

Ryan cleared his throat when he realized Castle was becoming oblivious to the world around him. "We, uh, made some calls," he said, trying to cover his tracks.

"To whom should I address my gift of gratitude?"

"Me," Esposito said, dropping a case file on the counter. "'Cause you won't be getting anymore information out of either of us. Now let's talk compensation so we can get back to work."

"Hey! But I-"

"Not now, Ryan. You'll get a share equal to your involvement in the mission, which is to say very little."

"But, you didn't-"

"I said not now!"

When their attention returned to the man with the book, they shook their heads. They'd lost him again. Allowing Castle to enjoy the moment a little longer, they picked up their coffee mugs and walked out of the room, hoping to never hear the excited, girlish squeak he'd released upon receiving the book, emanate from any man ever again. The sound of heels reverberating throughout the room had them at their desks, pretending to be engrossed in reports in seconds. Innocently, they watched as Detective Beckett made her way towards the break room, her empty coffee cup swinging from her hand.

"He's in for it, Bro," Esposito whispered while adjusting the angle of his chair to witness the show about to take place.

"You bet he is," Ryan answered, positioning himself in the same way. "How many stitches?"

"At least fifteen and two broken bones."

"Ten stitches, three broken fingers, with the possibility of corrective surgery."

"You're on."

—

Beckett watched suspiciously as Esposito and Ryan came out of the break room with conspiratorial gleams in their eyes. They'd been in there for a lot longer than it took to make two cups of coffee. Looking at her own empty mug, she rose from her chair and decided she would have to look into the situation herself, and refuel with a serving of heavenly espresso and delicious, frothy steamed milk.

She could see Castle still standing in the room as she approached, not unaware of her coworkers tracking her movement as she got closer to the door. Something was going on in there. She was sure of it. Her convictions were reinforced when she heard their whispers coming from behind her.

She peered through the glass before placing her hand on the door knob. She looked at Castle's tall frame hunched over. He was captivated by what he held in his hands. A book, she saw. Mostly, she saw only his broad shoulders relaxed, and his back curled forward, as if he was closing the rest of the world off from him. Beckett rolled her eyes and proceeded to twist the brass knob and enter the room. He didn't even react to her arrival. 'Must be reading one of his own books,' she thought.

Beckett didn't want to know, really. She didn't care what he was doing standing in the middle of the break room turning pages of a book with care, and looking at it with reverence. It was likely something she would find entirely repulsive, or egotistical, or at the very least, so immature she wouldn't be able to speak to him as an adult again.

She ignored him as she waited for the espresso shot to drip into her cup. She pretended he was somewhere far away while the steam wand hissed as it frothed the milk. It was when she combined the two of them that she let curiosity get the better of her, and she walked around the room to face Castle.

"What are you doing?" Beckett had hardly finished forming the question, when she found herself using the counter behind her to support her weight, as her laughter had her red in the face, doubled over, with tears freely falling from her eyes. Behind the mist, she could see Esposito through the window in a similar state, offering Ryan a hand off the floor. The startled, effeminate outburst from the writer before her still echoing. Though incapacitated by the stitch in her side, she noticed as Castle slipped the book inside his suit jacket as discreetly as he could manage.

"Oh my God, what was that?" Beckett asked between big, gasping breaths to regain her composure.

"What was what?"

"That noise?" The hilarity of the moment was still causing her tremendous difficulties breathing and the pain to sharpen in her abdomen.

"Public emasculation. Are you happy now?"

Using her sleeve to wipe the moisture from her face and dab her eyes, she nearly doubled over again when she saw the color of his cheeks. Taking pity on him, she took another moment to restore her oxygen level before straightening and fixing him with a glare. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"I just did. You destroyed my masculinity, effortlessly, with many witnesses."

"Not that question."

"I have no idea what you're talking about then."

"What were you doing, Castle? Before you gave Esposito and Ryan enough fodder for a lifetime."

"I'm quite certain that I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just standing here, lost in thought when you frightened me."

"I saw the book, Castle. What was it?" There. She saw the panic flash in his eyes. Something else was there too. The way he was looking at her unsettled her a bit. "I don't have all day, Castle. Give me the book. Now."

Without another second's hesitation, he darted for the door.

"Castle!" She lunged for him, grabbing for the collar of his jacket, but he managed to evade her grasp by taking a swift step to the right. Her second attempt to thwart his escape was met with more success, being able to grab a handful of his short hair. He tried to wriggle free, but she locked an arm around his neck, pulling him back toward the center of the room; however, he surprised her by reaching behind him, grabbing her shoulder while simultaneously leaning forward and pulling her down. Beckett found herself flat on her back in the break room wondering what the hell had just happened. She managed to sweep Castle off his feet with a quick kick of her leg as he tried to flee. He landed roughly on top of her, knocking the wind from her lungs.

He was rising up off her, ready to spring for the exit again when he heard her cough and whimper ever so softly. He froze. "Kate! Are you alright? I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

She rolled to her side, taking a few deep breaths, before grabbing his shoulders, flipping him onto his back and pinning him to the ground with her hand on his throat and her knee in his groin. With her free hand she deftly reached in his jacket and pulled out the book. Applying more pressure than necessary to his groin, she brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "Did you really think you could get away, Castle? Have you learned nothing from all this time you've shadowed me?" With a cruel grin, she started to get off him. Looking toward the door, she noticed their audience. Esposito and Ryan had their noses so close to the glasss, they might as well have been pressed against it. They had been watching the event with glee before running back to their desks when Beckett discovered them.

"Now, what could be so shameful that you were willing to go head to head with an NYPD detective to hide it?" She watched him squirm for a bit before looking down at the book in her hands. It looked oddly familiar. She looked at the varnished, black cover with gold embroidery around the edges in a lace-like pattern. 'Oh no!' She thought, 'Please tell me this is not what I think it is!' She snapped her attention back to Castle who had stood and was slowly inching his way toward the exit.

"Don't move." She watched his Adam's Apple bob as he gulped.

"I can explain."

"Stop talking."

—

Castle knew he was in for it. His life was over. He'd never get to see his baby girl grow into a beautiful woman. He wouldn't get to walk her down the aisle. He would never be able to bounce his grandchildren on his knee and teach them all the naughty things he wished Alexis had done as a child.

It was worth it, he decided. If his life was going to end at this moment in time, it was sacrificed for the greater good. He would die nobly, and turned on... Had she really just intentionally touched his groin? Damn...

He watched her run her hand over the gold stitching before opening to a random page, his favorite page actually. Her eyes closed, and he could see the pink hue rising from her neck. She let the cover fall and lifted her eyes to his. Shaking her head at him, she walked out the door, straight to the elevator. Her coffee long forgotten on the counter.

"Fuck."

–—

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