The case was done and Castle had learned his lesson about straying from his team. Painful things may be after overhearing Beckett's admission of her lack of memory issues, but this writer was a three-detective guy.
Castle sat at his desk, laptop in front of him and glass of wine in his hand. His short-lived affair with the gang detective had yielded a ton of inspiration, mostly of the fight-or-flight variety. Unfortunately, Detective Slaughter had made it quite clear that he didn't want to find a character based on him in any of Castle's books. And Castle was confident that he wouldn't like the consequences.
He sighed and set the wine aside, closing the laptop. Maybe later he would work out a way to use his new experiences so as not to get himself killed by a maniacal, unhinged gang detective.
Keys! He remembered suddenly. Have to remember to bring the keys to the precinct tomorrow!
When all was said and done, he didn't mind lending his Ferrari to Ryan or Esposito, and Jenny would surely get a kick out of it. After all, what was the point of having nice things if you couldn't share them with the people that you lo—care about? Okay, so it was a demand instead of him offering, but Castle understood. He had been presumptuous, blithely using his friendship with Ryan and Esposito to get resources to impress Slaughter. They could have asked for more—even refused outright. Maybe they should have refused.
Castle leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hands. Now he knew how lucky, how truly privileged he was. Two friends, two best partners, who had his back and trusted theirs to him. He had taken them for granted. And still they had saved him, had come to his side during the almost shoot-out with the Mexican gang. Castle recalled Esposito pulling him back and stepping between him and any potential bullets.
Now the question—if not the answer—became simple. How was he to repay them? Show that he appreciated them and that he was sorry for how he had treated them? He could simply say it to Ryan and it would be accepted, albeit in a sloppy, maudlin scene. Esposito, on the other hand, would tease him mercilessly about being sentimental, and somehow it seemed that would take some of the meaning away.
He sat for a few moments, pulling out the keys to the Ferrari and idly playing with them as he thought. Suddenly, Castle grinned and laughed. He grabbed his phone, the perfect idea in mind.
