I can't keep up
'Cause you're so far gone
And it's all too much hindsight
Three wasted years, wasting time
As the hunger pains grow inside

-Hindsight, Death Cab for Cutie


It had annoyed her, once upon a time, they way that Castle always seemed to know a guy. But at that moment, she was rather grateful.

The four of them were gathered in the conference room, the table piled high in the middle with papers and laptops and, most importantly, Chinese food from a place that delivered after 2am. Castle's doing. As she grabbed another Mu Shu pancake, she decided she didn't care who he'd had to beg, bribe, or sleep with to get them food so late. Between trying to figure out the case and figure out Castle, she'd forgotten to eat lunch.

They were hunting for connections between their victims, which was proving to be an unfortunately fruitful line of inquiry. Obviously, if their guy just wanted billionaires, he had more than enough to chose from on the island of Manhattan. Maybe he wanted specific ones?

The problem for the team was that Peterson and Marshall were connected in dozens of ways of varying levels of importance. Did it matter that they both served on this charity board, or had given money to that PAC? It was like untangling octopi, trying to figure out which two tentacles were the important ones.

"What's 'The People for American Prosperity?'" she asked the room.

"PAC," Castle said, without looking up, "Conservative group. Lower taxes, cut benefits, blah blah blah."

"How do you know all these groups?" Ryan asked.

Castle shrugged. "I have money, so they think... I get a lot of calls."

Kate dropped the folder in front of her, concentrated on the Mu Shu. Everyone was working diligently and well, despite the lateness of the hour and the exhaustion. It felt like a team, maybe for the first time in months.

"Castle. What'r you working on?" she asked, noting how he seemed to be staring off into space. He was looking bedraggled and boyish, except for the five o'clock shadow. Was there a such thing as a three am shadow?

"These guys knew each other," he responded.

"Yeah," Espo said sarcastically, pointing at the stacks of papers around them, "think we established that Peterson and Marshall were connected."

"No," Castle said, "I mean, our killer and victims knew each other."

"You found something?"

"No, but I keep thinking about it, and it makes more sense than anything else. Our killer knew about Peterson and Marshall's habits and schedules."

"Yeah, but that just means he coulda been surveilling them," Espo said.

Castle shook his head, but it was Kate that continued. "No, I think he's right. Our killer was able to approach both of them in plain daylight. Either he was disguised or the victims knew him."

"Plus," Castle continued, "why these guys? I mean, if you're hunting billionaires, why these guys?"

"If you're hunting billionaires, why is any one billionaire better than another?" Ryan asked.

"If you're trying to get on TV, make a point, whatever, then wouldn't it be better to kill Warren Buffet or Mike Bloomberg or someone the public knows? These guys were about as anonymous as the super rich can get."

Ryan nodded.

"Okay, so we're looking for three connections then. Peterson to Marshall to some third person..."

"Five connections," Castle corrected. Earth and water remained.

They all sobered. They got his point immediately. No one spoke for a minute, just silently chewed their food while lost in thought. Eventually they each dove back into the stacks of paperwork.

"Huh. This is an interesting one," Esposito said around a bite of fried beef a few minutes later. He flipped the paper to the side a bit so that Ryan could read over his shoulder.

"Says here," Ryan said, reading Espo's paper, "that Peterson, Marshall and two other guys cofounded a business together, thirty years ago."

"That's four, anyway," Castle said.

"Would our guy be angry over something that happened thirty years ago?" Ryan asked.

"Nah," Espo said, "It's gotta be that charity thing."

"This guy is operating fast, but he's obviously been planning for a long time."

Beckett nodded, "This guy is smart, methodical. He has a long memory. I don't think there is a timeframe that is too long."

"The company is no longer in business," Ryan said, coming around to Beckett's way of thinking, "but they made decent money off of it. Not like they make now, but... it's reasonable to assume that this was the starting point for the fortunes Peterson and Marshall built up later."

"What did this company do?"

"Software. Not sure exactly. Maybe a tech can explain it."

"Let's find out. See if they were involved in any lawsuits, anything weird. A disgruntled employee, a competitor that got screwed. Our guy may have been wronged by them. Could be a simple case of revenge."

"Got it."

The boys jumped up, their spirits seemingly renewed by an actual lead to pursue.

"And guys?"

They stopped at the door.

"Find out who the other two guys are. If there's even a hint that this company is the motive, we need to get them under protective custody, fast."

The boys nodded, and left. But they were going at half-speed. She and Castle were too - everyone had been up for too long. The case had been going for about a day and change, but it already felt like a year.

She fished into her carton, looking for more to eat, but came up empty. Castle had ordered what he could, but they'd skipped so many meals everyone had eaten double. She dropped the container in frustration, catching Castle's attention.

"You need a break," Castle said as she stretched, trying to crack her back.

She didn't look over at him. She couldn't afford a break. Luckily, wherever Castle had disappeared to for the afternoon had seemed to rejuvenate him a bit. The rest of the team seemed to be riding on his energy. And he seemed to be paying attention to her again.

"You know what I really need?"

He raised one eyebrow and smiled, the closest to a come-on she'd seen from him in awhile. Rather than roll her eyes, she let the smallest smile peek out in return.

"I could really use the FBI's manual on serial killers. If this lead doesn't pan out, we're back to the killer with a message angle."

"I know a way we can get both."

She leaned forward at that. He had the FBI manuals? "Don't tell me..."

He nodded.

"After Tyson? Or Dunn?"

"Before both, actually," he said, "back when I thought a serial killer might make a good plot." He stopped, shook his head, like he was trying to brush off the ignorance of his youth. "I got them from my guy at the FBI. I have them - it's actually three manuals - back at the loft. I'll let you read them if you agree to a nap and more food first."

"Food yes," she said, "but the nap will have to wait."

He smiled. He'd obviously been bargaining with her, but she was okay with the terms. Besides, she was willing to give a little, to get a little bit of the old Castle back.

"Okay, let's go then."


A/N: Sorry for the delays. My arm is in traction. It makes the typing a tad difficult, and the voice to text thing keeps thinking I'm saying 'asshole' instead of 'Castle.'