For a cultured museum curator at the top of his profession James looked a wreck. The collar of his shirt was stained red, and half a dozen butterfly closures decorated the right side of his face. He probably should have been hospitalised himself, but instead was pacing nervously in the corridor as they approached.

"How is she?" Rick asked, trying to see into the examination room.

James stopped and pushed both hands through his hair, a tiny fragment of shattered glass falling unnoticed like a tired star. "The doctors are still assessing her."

"And you?" Kate put a hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He tried a shaky smile and indicated the cuts on his cheek. "These are nothing. Just going to make me even more ruggedly handsome."

"Hey, that's my line," Rick complained, but without heat.

"So what happened?" Kate asked, guiding James to one of the plastic seats and making him sit.

"A … uh …a truck came out of nowhere, ran into the side of the cab. Maggie's side." James swallowed hard. "It jammed us against a van, and …" He looked anguished. "I could hear Maggie moaning, and I … I couldn't get out to help her."

"James, Maggie's strong."

"I know. I know. But …" He swore, startling a young nurse walking by. "Sorry. Oh God." He buried his face in his hands.

"I get it," Kate said softly, stroking his back and feeling the tension in the muscles making them tremble. "You thought Maggie was dead, then you found out she wasn't. And now this."

"They tried again, didn't they?" James' head snapped up and fire burned in his eyes.

"I don't know."

"But you think it is. The driver ran. He didn't even wait to see if …" Anger was beginning to keep the fear at bay. "I shouldn't have let her go out."

"Castle says you couldn't stop her." She glanced up at Rick, who nodded encouragingly. "Something about her dander …"

James almost smiled. "That damn dander of hers. She's so stubborn. One day it might –" He stopped, suddenly aware of what he had been about to say.

"Coffee." Rick was firm. "You need coffee. I'll go and find some." He looked at Kate, his eyebrows raised in query, but she shook her head fractionally. "Be right back." He strode off.

"She'll be fine, James," Kate reassured him.

"Find him for me," the big man implored. "Find him and let me alone with him for just ten minutes."

The fury in him shocked her. "James –"

"Five minutes, then. Kate, don't let the … the pretence of civilisation fool you. I know how to use my fists. And it would save the city the cost of a trial."

She wasn't surprised. She'd always felt James might have a darker past than he'd admit to. "Maggie won't thank you if you get arrested."

"I don't care."

"Of course you do."

James glared at her, then his expression seemed to soften. "Kate, how come you get me, but you don't get Rick?"

"I get him. I really do."

"Not according to Maggie."

"She should mind her own business."

"She thinks it is her business. You're both her friends, and she wants to know why you're doing this to him."

Kate withheld the sigh. She didn't want to talk about it, but at least James wasn't currently threatening to bring down death and destruction on the driver of the truck. "I don't know," she admitted. "I thought I did, that this was what I wanted. And I still do. It's just …"

"Things are different now."

"Yes." She fingered the ring in her pocket. Rick had made her take it, telling her to keep it until she'd made a decision, and it wasn't just about marrying him. "This time was supposed to be a trial run. To see if we can do a long distance relationship."

"And we messed it up. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. And you didn't mess anything up. It was me. I was just so happy to see him …"

"You want more."

"I want it all." It was a revelation, just saying the words out loud.

He studied her. "You know, I've always been jealous of Maggie's relationship with Rick."

"You don't say."

He had to smile this time. "I know. Pretty obvious. But seeing you two together, you and Rick … he loves you."

"That was never in doubt."

"And you love him."

"Yes."

"Then that's all that counts. Believe me." Tiredness seemed to swamp him, and he ran a hand over his face, dislodging one of the closures.

"Here," Kate said, reaching up. "Let me." She replaced it, smoothing it gently. "Better." She looked into his blue eyes, so different to Rick's that they might as well have been a different colour altogether. "And Maggie loves you. You should have seen her when she thought you thought she was dead and she wasn't."

"If I ever untangle that sentence, I'll probably thank you."

There was a discreet cough from behind them, then, "Agent Beckett."

Kate looked around to see a familiar, black-suited figure standing twenty feet away. "Forsyth. What are you doing here?"

"Working."

"How did you find me?"

"I pinged your cell, since you apparently had it turned to voicemail."

She felt annoyance sweep through her, but held it in check. "What is it?"

Forsyth moved further away, obviously expecting her to follow him. Reluctantly Kate got to her feet, then put her hand on James' shoulder. "Rick will be back in a minute."

"I'm okay. You'd better go. He doesn't look happy."

Kate glanced at Forsyth, seeing the same implacable expression she'd already got to know. "How can you tell?" she murmured softly, then strode towards the FTF agent. "Couldn't this wait?" she asked. "My friend's in here, and –"

"This is work, Agent Beckett." He put a lot of unnecessary emphasis on Agent. "Some interesting information has come to light."

She wanted to sigh, then gave in and let it roll, warmed by the slightly astonished look on his face. Maybe nobody had sighed at him before. "Fine," she said, composing herself. "What information?"

For answer he walked away, forcing her again to follow.

"Where's Kate going?" Rick asked, catching sight of her disappearing around a corner just as he reached James, three plastic cups of coffee balanced in his hands.

"Someone called Forsyth, I think."

"Oh, him." Rick handed over one of the cups and set the other two on a low table. "And you might be better off not drinking that. I think they overdid the monkey pee."

James narrowed his eyes but took a mouthful anyway, feeling his tongue trying to retreat from the flavour. "God, you weren't kidding." Still, he forced the rest of it down.

"Whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."

"I think it'll be a close run thing."

They shared a moment of the companionship of men everywhere in the face of appalling beverages, then looked around as someone called the author's name.

"Hey, Castle." It was Kevin Ryan, Esposito at his side as always.

"Guys." Rick gestured towards the remaining coffee cups. "Can I tempt you?"

"And have my taste buds burned out even more?" Ryan shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

Esposito went so far as to pick up one of the cups and sniff the aroma, then very carefully put it back down. "That should be illegal."

"Cruel and unusual punishment," his partner agreed.

"It's not as bad as that stuff you used to drink," Rick pointed out. "Before I bought the espresso machine." He exhaled heavily. "I think I've corrupted you."

"That kind of corruption I think we can live with," Ryan said fervently.

Rick smiled faintly, then said, "I assume you're here because of Maggie."

Esposito nodded. "We can't investigate the bombings, but Carol Flanagan is still ours."

"Who?" James said, then his brain caught up. "Right. The one you thought was Maggie."

"Someone killed her, only it looks like it was a case of mistaken identity." Ryan took out his notebook. "Do you feel up to telling us what happened?"

James was about to go over it again when the door opened and an older man stepped out, wearing a white coat over his scrubs. He was on his feet immediately. "Doctor?"

"Mr Congreve, your wife is going to be fine." The man smiled. "She's got cuts and bruises, but nothing major. She's very lucky. We wanted to run a few tests, mainly because of the pregnancy, but she's –"

"The what?"

"Her pregnancy. And we want her to stay a couple of days, just for observation … whoa there." The last was as he reached out to stop James from slipping to the floor. Rick stepped forwards to take the other side, and they guided him back to the chair. "She's fine, Mr Congreve."

"I … uh … don't think it's that," Rick said.

"Oh. You didn't know?"

James looked shell-shocked. "I'm … I'm going to be a … father?"

"You are." The doctor glanced at his watch. "Now, I have other patients to see. They'll be taking your wife to a private room shortly, but I'm sure she'd like to see you before then. I'll be back to check in on her in a while." He smiled again, then strolled off, patting his pockets as if he'd forgotten something.

"Congratulations," Ryan said, beaming. "Maggie and Jenny can compare notes."

"R … right," James stammered, then reached for one of the coffees and gulped it down, not even noticing the foul taste.

Rick chuckled. "I'm going to find Kate," he said. "Tell her the good news."

James waved a hand but didn't really notice.


Forsyth took Kate to a small side room, currently unoccupied. At least, the bed was stripped, but a man in khaki was standing by the window, looking out into the evening. He turned as they entered and Kate got a good look at him as Forsyth made the introductions.

"Colonel Andrew Gault, Agent Kate Beckett."

They shook hands, taking a moment to appraise each other. Kate saw a man in his sixties, still strong, still fit, with a head of thick salt and pepper hair cut short around his ears, but slightly longer on top. As tall as Castle, she'd have known he was a military man even without the fatigues, holding himself almost to attention.

There was something about him that seemed familiar, and it was a jolt to realise it was because he looked like an actor in some sci-fi TV programme Castle had made her watch in retaliation for the Nebula-9 marathon and the Creever mask. He said it was to further enhance her cultural education, but she knew better. Still, Gault did resemble this actor, Richard something or other. Older, of course, but quite attractive in a carved granite sort of way.

"Colonel." She looked at Forsyth. "Do you want to bring me up to speed?"

It was Gault who answered, naturally taking control. "I'm here because of the explosive used in the two bombings," he said, his voice low, but probably capable of being heard from one side of a parade ground to the other.

"The RDX."

He nodded. "Dangerous stuff."

"Particularly in the hands of someone who knows how to use it." She didn't mind playing this game, sure that Colonel Gault was sizing her up as much as she had done him.

"Indeed." He seemed satisfied. "I've been called in because I'm heavily involved in investigating the … misappropriation of government property."

"Is that army speak for things have been going missing?"

Gault smiled, and for a moment Kate saw something else familiar about him that had nothing to do with science fiction. "That might well be, Agent Beckett."

"And you think the RDX used in these explosions came from your … misappropriated property?"

"I've been working on this for some time, but even I can't figure out how long we've been …" He was clearly annoyed at not having all the information, but went on, "All the records appear to be meticulous, with proper authorisations and approvals for goods coming in and going out, but when a visual count has been made, the stock doesn't agree. It's been virtually impossible to tell at what point it's gone missing."

"Just RDX?"

"No. Weapons, ammo … a veritable smorgasbord of destruction." He snorted. "About the only think we haven't lost is a tank, and I'm not counting those particular chickens yet."

Kate found herself warming to this straight-talking man. "There are other ways of buying explosives. What makes you think this is yours?"

Forsyth stirred, possibly about to say something, but a glance from Gault made him settle again.

"Because as of three months ago we've added a radioactive tag to certain deliveries." He almost twinkled. "And it looks like it worked."

Kate sat on the edge of the unmade bed, letting the facts come together in her head. "Do you have a suspect?"

"Might do."

"Is he likely to be the bomber?"

"I doubt it."

"Colonel, I've never been good at pulling teeth."

He laughed. "Sorry. I've worked in military intelligence for a long time – we're trained in not giving a straight answer."

Kate smiled. "It would be helpful if you tried."

He thought for a moment, considering his options, then said, "Sergeant Miles Feydeau. An accident waiting to happen if ever I saw one."

"Then why haven't you arrested him?"

"Because until now I've had no proof. And I can have men go out and count the boxes until they're blue in the face, but if the computer says everything is there, then nobody's been arguing." He looked faintly disgusted.

"So he's a computer geek?"

"No. That would be his friend, Sergeant Daniel O'Donoghue." He almost smacked his lips. "They've finally made the mistake I've been waiting for."

"Kate?" Rick put his head around the door. "Sorry, but I thought you'd want to know …" He stopped, his gaze falling on Gault. "Colonel?" If his jaw could have dropped to the floor it would have.

Gault looked at him. "Do I know you, son?"

"Uh, yes. Sort of. We met once, a long time ago."

"I don't think –"

"Castle, can't this wait?" Kate hissed.

"You don't understand," Rick insisted. "This is Maggie's father."