And...this is chapter four. I apologise for the one small spacing issue which appeared in the last chapter, which probably left you (it certainly did me) wondering exactly how Esposito had managed to appear in a moving vehicle WITH relevant case information no less. Would love to go and fix it, but right now it's enough of an achievement I can even post it so...yeah :D

I won't keep you long with this, just to confess that after the next chapter there might be a - small gap - between posts. The surge of bravado which allowed me to post this in the first place was badly-timed, I have an essay due. Yes, I am an idiot. Feel free to berate me.

Feedback is hugely appreciated, your response is incredible... still in a state of shock so many of you are willing to read it :) and on that note I'll let you get on with it. Just a very big THANK YOU to you all; especially those among you who make their presence known.

Disclaimer: I don't own Castle

Although he had wanted to open it immediately, he knew she might actually follow through on one of her frequent threats to shoot him if he did actually begin interfering with evidence. So he waited. He fidgeted like a crazy person, but he never touched it. Instead he listened to the sounds of the espresso machine in the next room, trying to gauge exactly how long it was going to take her to get back to her desk. The envelope had arrived at roughly four minutes past eleven. Since then ... roughly thirty seconds had passed. No, wait, make that forty-six.

He heard a low laugh from Ryan as he walked back to his own desk,

"Hey Castle, you've got a little bit of drool, just there," the man touched a finger to his face and the writer shot him a bored expression. But when he'd walked past him he did run a hand across his face. Just to make sure.

"Nice work with the photo-taking earlier by the way, I forgot to congratulate you," he called the words after the younger man, craning his head to see the reaction. The grimace he saw was reward enough and he smirked before turning his attention back to the tantalising envelope on the desk before him.

God, did it always take him that long to make coffee?

He debated over the action for a minute or so before finally grabbing up the envelope and beginning for the Break Room. Beckett was still working with the variety of levers, buttons and cups which made up the caffeinated masterpiece and he crossed to her holding before him,

"Beckett, the note is here,"

"Oh," she glanced to it, "Great. I'll be right there,"

"Can't I just open it and read it out to you?"

"Castle, I'm not a two year old, and it's not just because I'm trying to torture you," she sounded exasperated, "Three minutes will not kill you,"

"Not unless it's a bomb threat," he grumbled, letting his hopeful expression drop,

"Don't even joke about it. Like we need something like that going on as well," Beckett shot him a look when she overheard the remark.

"Well if you let me open it –"

"Esposito!" she barked out the single word in evident impatience and it didn't take long for the man to appear looking a little wary. He looked as though he was about to leave for the crime scene, as he had said he was doing brief minutes ago.

"Everything OK?"

"Yes,"

"No," the two words came out at the same time with the same irritated tone. His eyebrows rose,

"Me and Ryan were just headed back out to the crime scene, so I'm gonna let you two finish up here and –"

"Just open the goddamn envelope for me. If the Captain finds out I let Castle in on the chain of evidence, he'll chew me out," Beckett jammed one of the buttons on the machine with a determined set to her mouth, attempting to free some of its liquid contents, "Get copies so he can read it and quit bugging me,"

Esposito shot the writer a pointed look which was clearly supposed to remind him of their earlier conversation and yanked the envelope from his now motionless fingers,

"On it,"

Castle watched him go incredulously, then he turned back to Beckett,

"Did that seriously just happen? We had the note and you sent it away again?"

"You're getting your hopes up about the note. It is not going to give us a name and address. We have real work to do still," she spoke with an irritated note to her voice,

"Yes, but – this is a voluntary look into the mind of someone who has committed premeditated murder," he returned as she finally pulled a mug of hot, delicious smelling coffee from the depths of the machine.

"You sit in on interviews all of the time, Castle. What's so special about someone who just wrote it down?"

"It's different," he returned, "There's a different kind of freedom in writing something down than there is to speaking it. Especially when you're sat in cuffs in a police interview room,"

She began back towards her desk and arrived at roughly the same time Esposito did with copies in hand. He handed them over with a small smirk and Beckett offered a brief nod of thanks before sinking down into her chair for the first time that day. Castle all but threw himself into the one beside her desk before reaching for the copied note. Final number on the clock; nine minutes and eight seconds past eleven.

Beckett watched his eyes drop to scan the page with a smirk before letting her eyes drop to the one she still held. The smirk faded quickly as she read. Even Castle brow began to furrow,

"This is –" he leant over her desk a little with the letter, "I don't know what this is,"

"This is trouble," she muttered, "I'm going to talk to Montgomery, I'll be back,"

"Right," he nodded. He let his attention follow her to the office door of the Captain but as it closed behind her it went straight back to the words on the page.

To the Detectives of New York's 12th Precinct.

I hope this day finds you well. If you have found my note you have found Daniel Weston. I have no doubts you wonder why he is dead, why I killed him. It is precisely for that wonderment that I had have to do this deed. You have not spotted him or what he is doing to the city that we all love so very much. You do not see the suffering and crime you have sworn to end multiply and hurt so many people. You have all been distracted for far too long.

But I am not distracted. I saw. I saw every day what he did. What they did. And now, as I write this note, I know that I do not regret my actions. I reached my breaking point and this is the result. You should have dealt with him and his friends long before I had to.

But I suppose we are a community; a shared network of friends and family. We share common goals and so I removed him from our streets; a goal we all shared in one way or another. It was an action for the greater good, I hope you understand.

Your friend.

He read the words slowly, lips moving as he processed them. Only once he'd read through for the third time did he raise his head.

The door to Montgomery's office was still closed. He couldn't even see the form of Beckett through the distorted glass.

He turned the other way to see Ryan and Esposito still reading, evidently their final act before leaving, or so he hoped for their sakes. Castle had no doubt that if Beckett returned to find them still here they'd be buried in paperwork a mile high. Thoughts of Beckett aside, he could see that their mouths were set in a grim line and he could tell that it was concerning them as much as it had him. As much as it had Beckett.

"I always hate the wackos," Esposito finally pushed the letter onto his desk and rose, heading for the Elevator, "You never know what's going to come next, you know?"

Ryan grunted his agreement and then began after him, laying his own copy of the letter on his desk. Castle let out a breath and took his own copy to pin to the white board. Beckett didn't reappear until well after the elevator chime had signalled the boys' departure. And even when she did, she didn't mention what had been said. All she did was grab her jacket.

"Let's go Castle," he fell into step immediately behind her, snagging Esposito's copy of the letter as he passed the desk.

"Road trip?" he looked interested and she nodded,

"Yeah. We still need to check out Danny Weston's favourite bar," she reminded him, sliding into her jacket and jabbing the call button for the elevator once she'd finished. Castle smirked,

"Right. Wunderbar," he didn't bother to hide his amusement this time, "You know that means 'wonderful' in German right?"

"Is it really that much of an issue?" she stepped through the doors when they slid open and he shrugged as he joined her,

"I like it," the doors closed, "You going to tell me what you talked to Montgomery about?"

"Nope,"

When they finally arrived at the bar, she almost wished she had already won the bet just so she could make him wait for her outside. Because one look at his face told her he was going to be complaining for the entire time they were in there.

Because there was nothing wonderful about it. It looked run-down and tired and Castle wrinkled his nose the instant they stepped out onto the pavement before it. No-one on the street about them was even looking to it.

"Lovely," he pushed his hands into his pockets, "So this is the Wunderbar. Considering all of the connotations of the name, I have to admit I was expecting a little more,"

"Well Danny Weston liked it enough," Beckett slammed the door of the Crown Vic closed and offered a grin, "Maybe the inside will surprise you,"

"The man was best friends with a proven drug dealer. My hopes are not high,"

In all honesty, neither were hers. But she'd learned the hard way that letting him know she agreed was a bad idea; the whining would start up again ten-fold. Instead she moved onto the subject of Walsh,

"I still have questions about that," she admitted as she crossed to the door, "Once we talk to Walsh we should know a lot more about what might have gotten him killed,

"If, you mean," he grumbled, "You know what I want to know? What exactly you friend from the note meant. How can he think you're no longer aware of the levels of crime in the city? You spend each and every day fighting it. Is that what's distracting you? Your jobs?" he glanced across to her, "Oh come on Beckett, you're not at all worried

She pushed open the door, choosing not to answer and they stepped into the bar.

Well, it definitely wasn't an improvement on the exterior. As they stepped in, it was to find their shoes sticking to the wooden floor; despite the definite evidence which told them this was not a hotspot of activity at any time of the day or night. The few framed pictures on the wall were all slipping in their frames and behind her Castle sneezed,

"You know, when Lucy Weston said he socialised, I was kind of expecting people," he mumbled, "There have to be three guys here. Including the bartender –" he sneezed again and she grimaced, stepping away from him,

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I don't know why I'm –" he sneezed for a third time and she threw a glance over her shoulder. He was wiping watering eyes and before she could say anything, a third voice joined them,

"Can I help you?" the words were issued by the bartender and she nodded briefly, turning away from the sneezing man to join him at the bar.

Castle wiped his eyes on his sleeve and surveyed the room warily. The only thing he knew that could make him sneeze with quite that velocity was a cat. There wasn't evidence of one in view though and he tried to ignore the desperate desire to sneeze for god-alone-knew-what-time and looked towards the bartender.

"I was told one of your regulars was a man named Daniel Weston," she spoke easily, showing her badge when she stopped at the bar. She slid his picture across the tacky surface of the bar with some difficulty, before watching the man's reactions as he picked up the photo,

"Yeah, that's right," he nodded, "Comes in every couple of nights. What of it? People like a local,"

"Was he here last night?"

"Sure. Got here about quarter past nine, was out of the door about an hour later. Only ever has one or two with his friend,"

"You know the name of his friend?"

"Sure. Harry," he surrendered the information easily enough, though Castle still remained at a wary distance from him. When he'd turned to see the man behind the bar, he was the first to admit it wasn't a figure he'd been expecting. If Castle had had to choose a backdrop for him, it would have been the weights room of a gym. Or a prison cell. Maybe some combination of the two would be best –

"Is Harry a regular too?" Beckett took the photo back and the hulk on the other side nodded. both ignored the bout or renewed sneezing from the writer behind her.

"Sure. He's in every day for one or two. If you come back around nine, he should be here," his tone was agreeable,

"Thanks, I might do that," she nodded to him, "Did Danny seem anxious or upset about anything?"

"No. The man was fine. He sat down, he had a couple of beers, he got up and left. Nothing out of the ordinary," the man shrugged and Beckett hesitated for one instant. But then she nodded,

"Thanks,"

"No problem, Detective. You need anything else, you come on back. Ask for Pete. Someone'll fetch me for ya," he tapped his fingers against the surface of the bar, "You pair have a good day,"

"Thanks," she nodded to him before beginning her way back to the door. Castle sneezed only twice more before he stepped out onto the street.

"Oh thank God," he mumbled, "There's a cat somewhere in there, I swear,"

"You're allergic to cats?" she looked surprised and he shrugged, still not looking too happy,

"Only mildly," he muttered, "But I think Pete needs to air out his bar a little,"

She laughed at the statement as she rounded the car. In the few instances her back was turned, Castle looked immensely pleased with himself. Then he sneezed again.

"If you're going to be doing that all day, there is no way you are coming back to the Precinct with me," her tone was one of warning. He looked immediately pained,

"But we haven't gone to see Lanie yet! I promised I'd see her later," he protested. She rolled her eyes,

"Out of everything you could have said, that's what you're going for?" she asked sceptically, "You promised you'd seen Lanie later?"

"Keeping your word is important,"

"So next time you promise to stay in the car –"

"I said it was important. I didn't say it was the be-all and end-all," he grinned at her. Then he glanced to his watch,

"You know it's nearly lunch-time?"

"I know,"

"We could go grab some food and then head back to the Precinct," he offered, "My treat,"

"I thought you were buying in pizza later on?"

"The secret to healthy eating is regular eating," his tone became mildly lecturing, then he added a rueful grin. "Added to which, going to buy it should give me time to stop sneezing,"

She hesitated for one final moment but then nodded,

"Fine." through the windscreen she spied the slip of paper he'd been analysing since he'd gotten it, "On the sole condition you do not breathe a word about the note for the entire time we're eating,"

He grinned,

"Scout's honour," he made the correct salute...just with the wrong hand. She fought the urge to throw something at him.

"Just get in the car,"

So there is a mention of food? I promise I will get around to the bet. But the case has just sort of taken over. I'm sorry! But I promise promise promise there is eating, and Castle/Beckett moments coming soon... although yes, I am going to drag it out. For many reasons. :D