Author's Notes: First of all, WOW, I did not expect such a positive response to this story. Either I'm not as neurotic as I thought, or there are a lot of neurotic people out there (just kidding, I love you all!) Secondly, I totally lack the medical expertise to include much in the way of detail, and I have a feeling that's going to be important. I'm Googling like a madwoman looking for reliable info, but if I miss anything or screw anything up, PLEASE let me know and fill me in with your knowledge! I would be more than happy to make edits in the name of accuracy. =) Lastly, this chapter turned out a little on the short side, but it seemed like a good place to break chapters, so I'll get started on chapter 3 as soon as I get all my errands done tomorrow. As always, I welcome any and all feedback; good, bad, and ugly. Enjoy!

"This diet is going to be terrible," Castle groaned, reading the list the doctor had sent him home with.

"Well, you were bleeding internally, Castle, what did you expect?" Beckett asked. Castle may have slept through the night thanks to a drug-drenched lullaby, but she had hardly slept a minute in the chair that had seemed less and less comfortable as the night went on. If she didn't get some coffee – or some sleep – soon, she was about ready to scream.

"No coffee?" Castle went on, ignoring her. "You've gotta be kidding."

"Tell me about it," said Beckett through her teeth.

"Ooh! Wait! It doesn't say anything about no ice cream! Well, I know what I'm eating for the next few weeks! Can we stop at a grocery store? I think we're out."

Beckett sighed. "On one condition. No matter how jealous it makes you, you're buying me coffee."

"Deal."

Several gallons of ice cream in hand, they walked up to Castle's loft, and Beckett helped him organize his freezer.

"Wanna help me eat this one?" Castle asked, holding up a carton that wasn't going to fit no matter what configuration they tried.

"Oh, no thanks, I should get back to work," said Beckett, taking a long gulp of coffee.

"Going already?" Castle said, looking sad. "I had kinda hoped you were going to stay and sit on the couch watching soap reruns and other terrible daytime television with me."

Beckett sighed, torn. He looked so pitiful, puppy dog eyes on his face and ice cream scoop in his hand. On the other hand, she hadn't even checked in with Ryan and Esposito or Montgomery about the case since asking for them to take over.

"There's no way this carton is going to fit, and I'd hate for all this perfectly good ice cream to go to waste," said Castle. "And I know you love mint chocolate chip."

He had a point. And Beckett couldn't deny that mint chocolate chip ice cream would go just perfectly with her cup of coffee.

"Okay, okay, one bowl of ice cream," Beckett gave in.

Clearly pleased, Castle scooped them both generous portions, then brought them out and flicked on the TV.

"Ahh, One Life to Live," he said nostalgically. "Just like old times."

Beckett smiled and took a bite of her ice cream. Just as she had suspected, it went delightfully with her coffee. Somewhat against her better judgment, she finished off every bite of it, reasoning that she'd squeeze in an extra sparring session later in the week. She washed it down with another drink of coffee, and in spite of all the caffeine, she felt sleepy and content. Just for a minute, she thought, closing her eyes with every intention of getting up and heading to work soon. Her body had other plans.

She woke up with a pillow under her cheek and a blanket around her shoulders, feeling slightly disoriented. Beckett yawned and opened her eyes, recognizing her surroundings as Castle's living room.

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily. She got no reply, which she soon realized was because Castle was stretched out sleeping on the couch adjacent to her. She was glad to see that he was breathing evenly and seemed to be comfortable. She also smiled when she saw her shoes sitting neatly on the floor next to the couch. Apparently Castle had managed to put a pillow under her head, wrap her in a blanket, and take off her shoes, all without waking her up. Impressive, she thought. And sweet. She looked at her watch, surprised to see that it was two in the afternoon. I guess I really was tired.

Castle was sound asleep, and Beckett didn't want to wake him by turning on the TV, so instead she picked up the packet of information the doctor had given him. The packet included details on appropriate diet and levels of activity, as well as what to expect over the next couple of weeks, and instructions and how and when to change the bandages. She read the packet top to bottom, assuming Castle wouldn't bother. He didn't exactly have a history of following directions. Once she had familiarized herself with the recovery instructions, she picked up the empty ice cream bowls and spoons and loaded them into the dishwasher, then went into Castle's study to call Montgomery.

"Afternoon, Beckett," he said. "How is everything?"

"Fine, sir," she said. "How is the case?"

"Ryan and Esposito didn't find much at the apartment, but a couple transactions popped in financials. They're running down persons of interest now. They've got it under control."

"I'm coming back," said Beckett. "I just needed to get him to the hospital."

"You get any sleep last night?" Montgomery asked.

"A little," said Beckett. "How'd you know?"

"Because it's two-thirty. If you'd slept, you would have called by seven."

"Sorry, Captain," said Beckett, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Don't apologize," said Montgomery. "I would have done the same if it was my partner. How is he?"

"Sleeping," said Beckett. "The doctors said he's going to be fine. It'll probably just take him a while to recover."

"Alright," said Montgomery. "Keep me posted, but take the rest of the day off. I'd rather you get some rest."

"Yes, sir," said Beckett. "I'll see you in the morning."

She disconnected and tiptoed back to the living room.

"There you are," said Castle. He was awake and sitting up. "I knew you couldn't have left without your shoes."

Beckett smiled, half at his comment and half at his tousled hair. "Yeah, I just had to make a phone call," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Strange," said Castle, looking off into space as he thought about it.

"Strange how?"

"Just strange," said Castle. "I've never had a giant slash in my belly before."

"I can only imagine," said Beckett, wincing as she did just that. A rush of guilt swept over her, and she looked away from him, remembering their first official day working together.

If you get injured following Detective Beckett to research your next novel, you cannot sue the city. If you get shot, you cannot sue the city. If you get killed — My lifeless remains cannot sue the city? —Your heirs, Mr. Castle.

Even worse, she remembered what she had said in response: Do I have to wait for him to sign, or can I shoot him now? It had seemed harmless and in jest at the time, but seeing him lying on the gurney hadn't been funny at all. She knew he had signed his life away in waivers, and that he knew what to expect on the job, but it didn't make her feel any less guilty at seeing him hurt after following her. She couldn't deny that his help had been – as much as she hated to admit it – instrumental in catching the suspect. And that suspect had turned out to be their murderer. Feeling anger boiling up, she started to think of any charges she could add to her suggestions for the DA. Technically "assaulting a police officer" wasn't accurate, but there had to be a similar charge for assaulting a volunteer...

"Beckett?"

"Mm?"

Castle paused, looking hesitant. "You're probably going to say no, but..."

"What?"

"Mother and Alexis won't be home for a couple more days." He stopped again. "Will you stay?"

Beckett's insides melted. Castle was scared.