Detective Beckett sprinted determinedly after the coffee shop manager as he frantically attempted to make an escape and slammed him into the counter, his thick, black, hipster glasses becoming dislodged from his head and clattering to the floor. He struggled, but she slammed her body into him again, knocking the wind out of him as she pulled the metal cuffs from her belt. He let out a breathless groan. Blowing a piece of hair out of her face, she began to read him his rights.

"You're under arrest for the murder of..."

Ding! Rick's train of thought was interrupted by the oven-timer.

Rick triple-saved, turned from his laptop and sniffed the air. Throwing on a pair of novelty Star Wars oven mitts, he glided to the oven, pulled the door open, and carefully removed two trays of pastries, transferring them to a cooling rack. There was a basket lined with wax paper already piled halfway with various baked goods to take with him to the precinct today.

"It smells like heaven in here! Oh, Richard, you're baking! Don't they look just delicious!" Martha drifted into the kitchen in her silk dressing gown. "And I appear to be just in time to help you out by sampling them for quality control purposes," she sang, snagging a pastry out of the basket.

"Uh-uh! Mother, those are for the precinct." Rick chastised her, but it was already too late.

"Well even more reason, darling. If anyone knows a good donut, it's a police officer, and my this IS a fantastic donut." Martha said around a bite of warm dough. "Wait a minute! I thought the precinct was on Mondays dear, and - did you shave?" Rick ran a hand over his jaw self-consciously.

"Yeah, I uh...I have to go down to the precinct this morning and sign some confidentiality papers. I uhh...I ended up helping out a little bit on a case Monday evening."

"Really? You helped out the police, Richard? However did you manage to do that? And haven't they all gone home by the time you come around to clean the building?" Martha asked, skeptically.

"Well, yeah, most of them are usually home for the evening, unless there's a big case but there's this one detective..." Rick started.

"Go on," said Martha, intrigued.

"Well she stays late almost every Monday and we've gotten to talking lately, and -"

"She huh?"

"Well, yes."

"I see." Martha raised her eyebrow, her innuendo evident.

"No, it's not like that, Mother," Rick sighed, running his hand through his hair, "I mean, we have been talking a bit lately, but I think it's just friendly conversation. Usually, we're the only two people there at night and -"

"How cozy!" Martha commented, a little smirk playing across her lips. Richard did his best to ignore it and continue on with his story.

"Well, anyway, she stayed late Monday working on a case and we talked about it a little bit, and we ended up solving it together." He smiled proudly, bouncing a bit.

"So that's why Alexis said you were acting strangely yesterday."

"No. Not exactly," Rick said, turning his gaze away. "I...got into a little bit of trouble. I may have gotten a little too caught up in solving the case and I sort of forgot to clean a few offices." He pulled a pained face, awaiting his mother's onslaught.

"Oh Richard! Please don't tell me you've gotten yourself fired." Martha threw her hands up.

"No, but it was a close call. I almost did, and then I was late for the coffee shop, and Rob was angry "

"Richard!"

"but Detective Beckett -"

"Your lady detective friend?" Martha asked, eagerly.

"Yeah. She really went to bat for me. She smoothed things over at the precinct, and then she came down to the coffee shop and talked to Rob, and I don't know what she said, but you should have seen his face, Mother. I think he almost peed himself." Rick grinned to himself, remembering the scene from yesterday.

"Sounds like she really saved your bacon, kiddo. So all this baking is for her?"

"Well, her, and some of the guys in her department. They don't even know me, but they did a good deed yesterday, and I just wanted to do something for them to say thank you."

"Well, I'd say the best darned bear claws in the city are a good start."


Beckett yawned, and stretched leisurely, smiling, before rearranging the blankets and pressing her face back into her pillow. Wait a minute... She popped one eye open cautiously and peered around. She was in bed! She had slept...in bed. She hadn't done that in...she couldn't remember how long. She sat up, sleep addled and confused, trying to remember what happened last night after she got home. Placing her hands down on the bed for support, she brushed against something solid and flat. She picked it up. Oh right...the manuscript.

She had started the first chapter after she came in the door last night, finished the third while waiting for the pizza boy, and after chapter five, she had decided to read another chapter in bed before perusing the case files she had copied from the archives. Only, she'd never gotten to the files, and the coil-bound volume laid open somewhere around the end of chapter seven. Which means she must have slept for...eight hours?! She glanced again at her watch to double check. And she probably even had time to read another chapter before wo-.

Her phone buzzed from the night stand, "12th precinct" on display.

"Beckett," she answered authoritatively.

"Yo Beckett, a body dropped." Esposito's voice said from the other end of the line, with a hint of amusement. Usually she was the one calling him. So much for that extra chapter. She grabbed the book anyway. Maybe on her lunch break.


"Morning Lanie!" Beckett called out cheerily to the medical examiner on scene, and came to squat a safe distance from the body, looking it over. Lanie's eyes narrowed. "What have we got here?" Beckett asked. Lanie tilted her head to the side and looked at Kate appraisingly.

"What happened to you?" Lanie questioned her, peering intently. Kate opened and closed her mouth at the question, before looking down at herself to make sure that her outfit matched and she didn't have two different shoes on. She looked up, confused.

"What?"

"This -" Lanie continued, motioning a gloved hand up and down in front of her detective friend, "Something's different. You're all..." She paused, looking for the right words. "Chipper. And well-rested." Kate shrugged. "That's not like you. That's not like you at all."

"I got a good night's sleep last night," she admitted. "And they've really improved the quality of coffee at the precinct."

"Who is he?" Lanie's eyes flicked up to Kate's, alert.

"Who's who?" Beckett looked at her blankly.

"Girl!" Lanie swatted at Beckett as if she intended to slap her. "The guy!" She whispered harshly.

"What guy? There's no guy." Beckett insisted, shaking her head slightly. It's not as if she could tell her that she spent the night in bed with David McAllister, fictional rookie NYPD cop, trying to solve the murder of a Broadway actress. Sadly, he was the only guy to see the sheets in her apartment since... Oh god, she was dating a book.

"Mmm." Lanie replied critically, indicating that the conversation was not over.

"Lanie, there's no guy! Now, just...tell me about the body." She fixated her attention on the corpse laying on the floor.

"Based on temp and lividity, time of death is around six hours ago. Ligature marks suggest strangulation, and oh, here's something you should see." Lanie raised the arm closest to her. "There's some sort of mark here. I have no idea what it is. It'll be something for the knuckledraggers to run down."

"Hey!" Esposito and Ryan shouted, from their relative positions across the room, speaking to local uniforms and CSI, respectively.

"Oh, calm yourselves!" Lanie shouted back at them, before turning back to Beckett. "And don't think you and I are finished talking either."


Rick strolled off the twelfth precinct elevators, basket of baked goods in hand, and noticed, with wonder, how busy the place looked during the daytime. Uniformed cops bustled in and out, speaking covertly in corners to men and women in suits, clipboards in hand, passing along pieces of paper between them. Rick couldn't help but feel their eyes on him as he passed, and thought that even cleaned up, in a nice button-up and jeans, he stuck out like a sore thumb. He spotted Esposito and Ryan setting up what looked like a new investigation on the white board, while a familiar form sat hunched at her desk, on the phone, shirt sleeves rolled up, scribbling information on a pad of paper. She looked different, somehow, today, brighter, more vibrant than she had at night, when he watched her from the shadows. He wondered if something had happened, or if this was just normal, daytime Detective Kate Beckett-Homicide. Ending her call, she happened to look up at him as he approached.

"Hey Castle," she grinned at him, and motioned him over with a nod of her head. Taking his opening, he strode over to her desk, deposited himself in a chair, lifted the cloth on his basket, and presented Beckett with a bear claw, fashioned with a little Superman-like superhero cape, complete with a K inscribed on a yellow diamond-shape.

"For my hero," he said, earning an eyeroll, and a half-smile.

"Castle, you didn't have to do that," she admonished him lightly, and then smacked his hand when he reached to take the pastry back, "but since you did..." she picked it up and took a victorious bite, smirking at him.

"Hey Coffee-man," Esposito shouted all the way from the white board, "where's my donut?"

"Yeah," Ryan added, "we helped out yesterday too."

Putting on a production of sighing and feeling much put-upon, Rick walked over to the board with his basket. Eyeing both detectives critically, he pondered for a minute before reaching into the basket.

"Esposito, you look like a powdered sugar and jelly kind of guy," he said, while dipping his hand into the basket and then pro-offering a napkin-wrapped donut. "And you, Ryan, hmmmm...I'm going to guess honey cruller," bringing another donut out and handing it over to the shorter man. By the time Ryan had his treat daintily unwrapped, Esposito had already managed to shove the entire thing in his mouth and was chewing animatedly.

"Bfft. Dnnut. Vvvvrrr," he tried to say, offering his fist to bump. Castle accepted.

"Thank you, gentlemen! I think. Your service yesterday will not be forgotten. Hey, I'm going to put the rest of these in the break room. In case anyone else wants some...or, you know, wants a second." Rick said, as Esposito's eyes covetously followed the basket. Returning, he looked around curiously.

"So, you guys are starting a case?" Rick asked, sinking back into the chair beside Beckett. He tilted his head, reading over the white board.

"Hey!" Beckett called out sternly, snapping her fingers to get his attention. "No, Castle. You know what happened last time." Rick pouted.

"We solved the case last time!" he bragged, grinning.

"You almost got yourself fired last time!" she corrected.

"But it's Wednesday. I don't have to work today," he pleaded. Esposito and Ryan's heads swivelled back and forth between the two, placing mental bets on who would win this exchange.

"Yeah, because I saved your behind, Castle. I don't want to make a habit out of it."

"But it's such a nice behind," he flirted. She fixed a challenging glare on him, and he held it. She leaned over him intimidatingly as he sat in his chair. Rick got the feeling that she got her way like this a lot. It was certainly having an effect on him.

"Go. Sign your papers, Castle. Or should I say Rodgers? Before you get yourself into trouble." She pushed away suddenly, leaving him staring as she went back to work.

"Legal's down the hall that way, man." Ryan pointed, smirking at Rick's loss. Composing himself, Rick stood up stiffly, pretending it was his own idea, and turned to walk down the hall.

"Fine. I have some papers to sign down the hall. You probably don't need me to tell you what that symbol on her arm means anyway," he tossed nonchalantly over his shoulder as he began to walk away, with a little smirk. He hadn't made it three steps, when Beckett cut off his path, pressing one finger into his chest.

"Sit." she commanded, already regretting her move, as he waggled his eyebrows at her and made a production of reclaiming his seat.