A/N: Look everyone, it's another update much faster than the rest have been, and even quite a lot longer! A big thanks goes out to RoninBlackwing as well for without them this chapter would have been much longer in coming as well as the next chapter or two. I think I managed to individually thank everyone that was logged in to review the last chapter, but I also want to thank everyone who left some feed back whether constructive criticism or love for the story who did so anonymously. For those few of you who think this story is disgusting, I promise I'm not making you read it. The majority of you though are awesome and I hope you enjoy this next installment!


Nearly an hour later, after they've spoken with the crime scene techs, promised to keep the husband in the loop, and driven back to the precinct to begin setting up the murder board, Castle is still complaining about the lack of proper grammar shown by the murderer when writing upon the deceased's body.

Beckett blows out a breath and pinches the bridge of her nose between index finger and thumb, trying desperately to hold onto her patience and ignore the man repeating himself for the seventh time.

"So how do you not make sure that you are using the proper language to make that point?" he asks finally sitting down form where he'd been pacing beside her desk.

Unable to take his diatribe a moment longer she summons her energy to attempt to stop him when the arrival of Ryan and Esposito do so for her. She'll have to remember to give them a special treat later on for saving her.

"Frank Anderson, retired middle school math teacher from I.S. 161. You want in?" Ryan calls across the bullpen as they approach her desk.

Beckett raises an amused eyebrow at them, does she really look like she can take on another case on top of handling Castle?

"Uh, no, thanks. Full up." she replies instead, saved from having to say anything further by the ringing of her cellphone.

An unknown number flashes on the screen of her phone as she steps away from the boys, barely noting Castle moving over to a different pair of desks, doubtless wondering about the other murder that had occurred during a full moon.

"Beckett"

"Detective we've traced the credit card number from that receipt you asked us to run and it came back as a Ms. Brandy Rossi." The tech on the other end of the line informed her.

Beckett quickly jotted down the name as well as the address of the woman in question and thanked the man before hanging up and turning back to where the boys were all huddled in a tight circle. What on earth could they be up to?

No matter, it was late and she was tired. Interviewing this Rossi woman could wait until morning, now it was time to wrap up this case and partake in a nice bubble bath.

"Castle" she called, noting the way the writer jumped guiltily in his seat at the sound of his name. Or at least the sound of her saying his name.

"If you want to stay and work with the guys you can, but I'm heading home and I suggest you three do the same." With a nod encompassing the two detectives as well.

She can't help but sag into the seat of her cruiser when she makes it down to the underground garage. So much for being relaxed and having caught up on sleep. She had forgotten just how exhausting a day with Castle could be. How had she possibly spent her nights with the man as well?

The late hour provides for a quick drive to her favorite take-out restaurant for an easy supper and an equally fast ride the rest of the way home.

Safely ensconced in her own home, Beckett changes out of her leather jacket and boots and into yoga pants and a t-shirt that is two sizes too big before settling down on her couch to eat the food she'd grabbed on the way.

Her body's physical needs being satisfied means that she can now turn her attention to other, more pleasurable activities.

A smile graces her lips as the woman makes her way to her bathroom and opens the faucets so that the water gushing out is at the perfect temperature; hot, but not so hot that it burns. Instead, just enough to relax her tightened muscles when she slips into the water's warm embrace.

Satisfied that the old claw-footed tub is filling, she turns her attention to the candles placed throughout the room and begins lighting them one-by-one.

When the candles have all been lit, Beckett flicks the switch to shut off the overhead light to the bathroom, instead casting the formerly stark white room in a golden ethereal glow.

She easily shucks off the t-shirt, leaving it to pool in a pile on the cold tile floor where it is soon joined by the yoga pants she peals down her legs and the simple, utilitarian panties that she'd put on when she had changed earlier; her bra already discarded in the bedroom an unnecessary accoutrement when she was at home alone.

Beckett sighs when she slips into the deep water, wishing she had poured some of her lilac scented bath salts in, but feeling the relaxing effects of the water nonetheless. The water encompasses her body, gliding over her curves in waves as soft and welcoming as silk.

Her nipples harden into tight peaks in the cool air of her apartment as they rise past the waterline, her breasts buoyed despite their compact size.

She sucks in a breath when a small shift causes the water to roll gently within the tub, caressing her skin and lapping at her sensitive pink buds.

A small hand creeps towards her inner thigh, trailing across her stomach and the crease of her leg, fingers making small, barely there touches as it goes. She teases herself, one hand drawing nonsense patterns on her abdomen and thigh while the other trips upwards towards her breasts.

Her arousal heightens as she pinches a nipple between finger and thumb, rolling it gently until her legs fall open and she releases a shuddering sigh.

She jerks hard when fingers make contact with flesh that's a very different kind of wet, easily parting her folds and slipping into the welcoming heat that is found there. The movement causing the water to roll dangerously in the already overfilled tub.

When she presses a single finger into herself, she can't contain a jerk of her hips. This time enough to make water spill over the sides of the bath.

On a sigh, she removes her hands, not wanting to create a mess for herself by overflowing the bath and soaking her floor.

She stands shakily and steps from the tub into the waiting arms of a towel placed conveniently nearby. Not bothering to unplug the drain or blow out the candles quite yet, Beckett takes the few steps into her bedroom and collapses inelegantly on the bed.

One hand delves into the bedside table whilst the other takes up a dance across her rapidly cooling skin. Her chest flushed from a combination of arousal and remnant heat from bathing.

Easily finding that which she seeks, the hand emerges with a comically bright purple dildo in its clutches.

Now sufficiently aroused, Beckett eagerly twists the base of the toy, causing it to spring to life in her grip, buzzing hungrily as she trails it down her body.

She teases herself for only a moment, running it up and down the juncture of her legs, gasping whenever the vibrations reach her swollen clit.

Letting her legs fall further open, she places the head of the toy at her entrance and pushes forwards slowly. Gently easing the generous length into her body before withdrawing it once more, she repeats the movement several times, pressing it deeper with each stroke.

She writhes and jerks underneath her own ministrations, the toy now buried fully inside of her. The obscene purple no longer visible amongst folds dripping with the evidence of her arousal.

Beckett thrusts the toy back and forth, quickly climbing towards release.

"Uhmm" she moans grinding down onto the faux cock within until she shatters spectacularly, her inner muscles clenching down on the hard plastic where she's left it deep in her inner channel.

Aftershocks claim her body for many minutes afterward, her body lithe and boneless against the sheets that are sticking to her sweat slicked body.

She finally withdraws the toy and wrenches herself from the bed to clean it and grab her clothing from the bathroom floor.

Teeth brushed and lotion on, she proceeds clothe her still oversensitive skin before falling into bed and into a deep, dreamless sleep that isn't interrupted until her alarm sounds the next morning.


Castle arrives at the precinct before she has even finished her first cup of coffee; along with him comes the incessant chatter the writer seems unable to go without.

Luckily for the both of them; both being her sanity and his physical wellbeing, their suspect arrives in a timely manner courtesy of the uniform who has escorted her to the precinct.

The three of them enter the interrogation room, Ms. Rossi proceeding the writer and detective who take partnering seats on the mirrored side of the table presenting a united front.

Beckett presents the woman with the receipt they'd found at the victim's apartment. The same receipt that matched the credit card numbers of the woman before them.

"I believe you've been informed of the death of Ashley Cosway?" Beckett began the questioning.

"That is correct." Ms. Rossi responded without visible emotion.

"And the numbers on this receipt match those of your credit card?"

"Yes Detective. That's my credit card. I had dinner with her last night. She's my best friend. When I left her there, she was alive."

"What time did you leave Ms. Rossi?"

"Around 7"

The interrogation continues although it's becoming more and more obvious that this woman is not their killer. Of course, if her alibi that she was at the Gansevoort bar after leaving her best friend's house turns out to be solid it will be a lot more clear. Instead, they're informed that Ashley Cosway had invited her best friend to dinner for more professional reasons than personal.

"She wanted to get a restraining order." The other woman finally revealed, becoming more distraught as the interview continued. "She wouldn't say who! God, I should have stayed with her. I shouldn't have let her off the hook!"

Having decided there was nothing more Brandy Rossi could tell them, Beckett thanked the blond for her time and sent her home with her business card.

They now knew that something had happened Friday while their victim was at work, something bad enough for her to have wanted a restraining order. Now they had something to work off of.

The first step was to call the vic's husband and see if his wife had said anything to him about what had occurred. Unfortunately he didn't even know there had been an altercation, let alone who else had been involved.

"Looks like Ashley took her oath seriously," Beckett observed aloud as she hung up the phone, "Her husband had no idea that something bad happened Friday."

"Doctor/Patient privilege is supposed to protect people, not get them killed." Castle concurs.

It soon becomes apparent that both the friend and husband have solid alibi's which leaves Friday's patient as their new prime suspect. But first, coffee.

She watches Ryan and Esposito escorting what must be their victim's family from the interview room as she walks through the precinct to the break room. Somewhere along the way losing Castle and without her shadow there to work the expensive espresso machine he'd bought she opts for coffee from the carafe sitting silently on its hotplate.

Leaving the breakroom, she comes to a halt, watching with amusement as Castle prances towards her singing something about a restraining order. What is going on with these guys lately? Her amusement comes to an abrupt halt when he nearly runs into her and spills her coffee, although she can't suppress a smirk when realization that he's been caught crashes visibly into the man in question.

"Hey" he answers quickly taking a step back.

"Hey" she responds, giving him a suspicious once-over.

"I was just- um, they were-" he stutters turning towards the other two men as if expecting them to help him "there was two…"

"Yeah" she says her point having been made as evidenced by his desperate search for a plausible excuse.

Karpowski is actually the one to come to the writer's rescue. She'd found out who Dr. Cosway had seen on Friday afternoon and potentially who she'd wanted a restraining order against.

The boys gather their jackets and follow shortly behind them towards the elevator until Caste leans forwards and presses the button to shut the door just before the two detectives can board the lift.

"Why'd you do that?" Beckett question, brows drawn as they hear Ryan yelling through the now thorouyoghly closed doors.

"Do what?"

"Don't play dumb with me Castle, why did you close the door on them?"

"Hm? Oh, I didn't realize they were following us."

Beckett scoffs in disbelief but having nothing further to go on gives up the line of questioning. She'll figure out what's going on sooner or later.

Castle remains quiet on the ride through the city, as if afraid that anything he says can and will be used against him. He's not wrong.

"Alright, I'm just gonna say it" he begins as if whatever thought that has just popped into his mind is something he's been mulling over for a while, "I've got a feeling. Doesn't happen often, but I'm feelin' it. This is our guy!"

An eye roll the only necessary response from Beckett as they enter the butcher shop owned by their suspect.

"Mr. Ross?" Beckett calls, eyeing the man on the other side of the counter who is currently slicing a side of beef with a very large cleaver in his hand.

"What's up? Garbage on my sidewalk again?" the man enquires before turning back to the ribs before him.

"Uh, would you mind putting that down?" she reminds the man, nodding to the knife he's still holding.

He complies, albeit unhappily, and follows them out of the store.

"Where were you between the hours of… uh, when was that again?" Castle begins, looking to Beckett for help. Ha! Better leave the interrogating to the trained professionals Castle.

Despite the writer's continued interruptions and attempts at questioning, they learn that the altercation had actually occurred at the appointment before that of Hal Ross and his wife. It was just too good to be true that the man with violent priors could be their murderer and this case could be wrapped up all nice and neat just like that.

"I got a feeling this isn't our guy" Castle sums up helpfully and then shutting his mouth quickly, wilting under the glare she bestows upon him.

Unfortunately Beckett can't help but agree with the man for once and thanks the butcher for his time before returning to the precinct, this time desperately reminding herself not to break Castle's fingers if he reaches for the radio dial one more time.

"Castle?!" she finally grits out through clenched teeth.

"What?" he asks, completely oblivious to her annoyance.

"If you touch that dial one more time you can get out of my car and walk home without even bothering to come back to the precinct. Got it?"

"Got it" he confirms, not in the slightest bit subdued by her attitude. Infuriating man.

Upon returning to the precinct, Beckett grabs a new coffee. Her former one having been abandoned on her desk when they left to interview Ross earlier.

A quick check of the victim's appointment book showed that the patient who saw Dr. Cosway before Hal Ross was one Evan Hinkle. Unwilling to abandon another coffee she sends a uniform out to collect Mr. Hinkle and bring him in a little chat.

It's not long before their new suspect is in the interrogation room and Beckett is sat before him, her notes prepared before her. But before she can begin questioning the man, Castle leans heavily onto the table, invading the man's personal space.

"For the record Mr. Hinkle, you are admitting that you were Dr. Cosways one o'clock appointment?"

What the hell Castle? What are you doing?

"I knew this would happen. I knew it. First time I met her I knew she would leave me. Why does this always happen, why do people keep leaving me?"

What is this guy going on about? She wonder, noting with satisfaction that at least Castle has sat down, even if he's not scrutinizing the man any less.

"She didn't leave you, Mr. Hinkle, she was murdered." Beckett chimes in, leaning forward now herself.

"Yeah. Just like my first wife." Wait, what?

"You're first wife was murdered?" Castle asked, the tone of disbelief in his voice mirror that of her own internal monologue.

"That's right. I smothered her to death." Their suspect confessed as Castle and Beckett share a look of triumph. They've just solved their case. You can bet on it.

"Yeah. That's what she told me. I murdered her with love. That's why she left." Or not…

"Just tell us about your last appointment with Dr. Cosway." Beckett jumps back in. Time to get this show back on the road.

As much as she was disappointed to learn that this man was not, in fact, likely to be their murderer, she was still surprised by how much Castle was silently fuming beside her. There was something going on here and she would get to the bottom of it. Maybe she'd have to ask the boys. She could usually intimidate at least Ryan into telling her the truth.

Hinkle's innocence becomes even more pronounced when he reveals that he hadn't seen the doctor last week. He had called to cancel because of a panic attack. One which had conveniently placed him in the ER, as if he actually needed his story to be corroborated.

The man was useful for something though, having revealed before he left that she hadn't charged him for cancelling last minute because Dr. Cosway was going to use the time to have lunch with her husband instead.

Bingo. And now they're back to the husband.

"What's with the super cop?" she questions Castle as soon as the door to interrogation 1 closes behind Hinkle.

"I have no idea what you're talking about?" Castle denies instantly. No less than she had expected really, although she's still frustrated that something is going on in her house and she doesn't know about it. What kind of detective is she if she can't uncover something that's going on right beneath her nose?

Back in the bullpen she calls the credit card company to confirm that the Cosway's had indeed had lunch together on Friday, but when she looks up from the tablet she'd been taking notes on, definitely not just doodling, she found Castle huddled together with Karpowski and one of the uniforms.

What the- As soon as they saw her looking at them the trio broke up and scattered.

"So what you got?" Castle asked immediately, seemingly unperturbed by her presence, unlike the other two who had nearly run to get away before she arrived.

"I just got a ping on Ashley's credit card. A lunch charge at Petit Bistro right next door to her office. The hostess confirms that the Cosway's where having lunch there on Friday, and the only reason she remembers it is because they were making kind of a scene."

"He's our screamer" Castle realizes.

"They were arguing all the way back to the office." She confirms

"He's the one she was getting a restraining order against."

"Jason's alibi that he was at the game with a friend feel a little squishy to you?" she asks slyly.

"Like a wormy apple."

After asking Karpowski to take another look at Jason Cosway and watching the woman escape as quickly as possible once more, she turns to the sound of Castle asking her if she wants more coffee. Beckett raises a brow in question, she liked her coffee as much as the next cop, ok maybe a little more, but she had just gotten a cup. Even she didn't need another one yet. Usually Castle was more observant than that.

Dismissing the man, she approaches the murder board and almost gleefully moves the picture of Jason Cosway from the family column to that belonging to suspects and writes in a question mark behind the husband's alibi on the timeline.

She just can't shake the feeling that she's being watched though, the hairs standing upright on the back of her neck a distraction from studying the board before her.

She is being watched! Looking up she meets the eyes of a uniform whom she barely recognizes. The man quickly looks down to the papers in his arms and then scuttles out of the room.

A quick glance around the room reveals that he wasn't the only one watching her. Detectives and uniforms alike scatter before her until she manages to pinion one of them who got a little too close.

"Hey, Stegner" she greets, waylaying the other woman's attempts to escape the room like her cohorts had.

"Just admiring the great board work Beckett." she lies through her teeth. Beckett didn't become a detective just because of her good looks. She spends her days determining who's lying and who's telling the truth. Unfortunately for the young woman, the uniform that Beckett has caught in her web seems to have forgotten that.

"Care to share any insight?" the detective asks, allowing the younger woman to dig herself a deeper hole if she dares.

"I really need to… go file." She finishes lamely. Well, the girl isn't stupid, Beckett determines whilst watching her nearly run away.

"Uh huh" she grins like a shark who smells blood in the water.

It's then that Beckett realizes what has been happening all along when she catches sight of money passing from a fellow detective to a rather full looking envelope in Castle's hand.

"Son of a-" she mutters under her breath, stalking across the bullpen towards her quarry. It's not often that she and the boys split up on cases but with the budget being what it is, occasionally they have to take on more than one case at a time. She really can't believe that they would make a bet on who could solve a murder first though. Weren't they more mature than that? Hah, maybe not.

"Nobody move!" she commands, snatching the envelope of money directly from the writer's hands and all three men freeze in their tracks. Nobody dares defy Kate Beckett.

"What is this?" she turns directly to the writer, holding up the incriminating evidence as if for clarification.

"Girl scout cookie orders." He answers without a hitch. She'll allow that he covered quickly, for which she's impressed. Unfortunately for the writer, his excuse gives him away.

"Huh, girl scout cookie orders." She repeats as if in agreement, taking a look at the list of names and figures written on the once white paper. Wow, there are a lot of people involved in this one. Even, is that Montgomery?!

"Yeah I'm just helpin' out the troop." He continues, relief coloring his words. Silly man thinking that she's been fooled for even one second. It would seem that Stegner isn't the only one to forget she's a trained investigator.

"Funny, I didn't realize Alexis was a girl scout." Beckett begins going in for the kill before turning away from the man to go find his cohorts. The writer followed she knew he would.

Speak of the devil, "Freakin' great!" Ryan grumbles as he and Esposito cross the bullpen.

"What happened?"

"Ballistics screwed us." The boys spoke in tandem. It would appear that it's no longer just she and Castle who can perform that particular trick.

"Our mugger's gun doesn't match the bullets taken from our vic." Ryan's voice grows gradually louder until he's all but yelling. All the confirmation that she needs that her suspicions are indeed correct.

Wordlessly she hold the envelope aloft, nearly cracking a smile at the twin looks of horror that cross the guy's faces.

"What's going on?" Ryan asks, braver than she would have given him credit for.

"Betting on murder guys? Really?!" she asks in disbelief.

Cue the denial, but one voice cut above the rest.

"I'm telling you, it's girl scout orders." Castle continues trying to argue.

"Girl scout cookies are sold in February" she all but growls at him, "You guys should be ashamed of yourselves!" she continued, whirling back around to point an incriminating finger at her partners. Castle, she would have expected this from, but not these two.

"Now get back to work!"

Point made, she returns to the murder board, staring a hole into it even though her mind was focused on the envelope of cash still in her hand. The entire precinct had been in on this? How on Earth had it gotten that big? A small part of her even wanted to check and see who was favored to solve the case first. It had better be her and Castle.

"Beckett you are never gonna believe this" Karpowski cuts across the beginnings of an apology from Castle, but she isn't quite ready to let him off the hook just yet.

"Oh the bar on unbelievable is pretty high right now!"

"Vic's husband took out a three million dollar life insurance policy on her, last month."

He did what now? They had this case in the bag now. Hell, she may as well make some money out of this whole mess, "A hundred on us" she tells Castle, thrusting the envelope into the writer's chest.

He just stares after her as she stalks back across the bullpen to where the boys are still seated, ostensibly arguing over whose fault it was they got caught.

"Breakroom, now." She order, not even waiting to see that they follow her.

The room is still empty from when she'd busted Castle there not long before and she shuts the door behind the boys to give them at least a semblance of privacy.

"Listen closely. If our vic confesses first, Me, Lanie, and my favorite toy get to do whatever we want to you for the duration of our next get-together. If in the next hour your vic walks in here and confesses before ours, you get to do the same to me. Got it?" she whispers, aware that they're still at the precinct and that these walls have ears.

"Where's the challenge in that?" Esposito challenges. The only way that's different to usual is that they'd be tied down. That's no kind of punishment.

"Fine. The loser can't orgasm that night. At all." She concedes his point.

Ryan scoffs at the idea, "You really think you could withstand an entire night without getting off?"

"Well, since we're about to go get a confession, I won't be the one to test that theory Kev!"

Esposito on the other hand is intrigued, "And if, when we win, you can't hold back?"

"Well e already suggested wearing a dress to work for a week for whoever lost." Ryan points out.

"Deal" Beckett agrees, giving both men a nod of the head before turning on her heel and exiting the breakroom.

Only to find Castle standing on the other side of the door, eyes wide, clearly having heard everything.

Shit.

"Castle, I-"

"Forget it Beckett," he sighs "I want to see Ryan and Esposito running after a suspect in a miniskirt so let's go get our confession."

He wasn't a part of the group anymore, and they all knew why. So why did she feel so badly all of the sudden that he wasn't involved?


Thoughts? Anything you want to see later on? Let me know!