"It would never have worked," she said, dropping the plastic shopping bag in his foyer and turning back to him.

Castle was struggling to get his keys out of the door to his loft, his face a mask of disappointment. He'd been mopey all flight long.

"It was too small. And we would've had only about fifteen minutes-"

"That's all I needed," he said morosely.

She snagged his hand and pulled it away from the door, then took over the job of coaxing his key out of the lock. Kate had it within seconds, turned around to see him rolling his suitcase to the hallway.

She paused a moment, let it soak in that she was actually in Castle's apartment, that she was actually going to stay with him in his own room from now until. . .forever.

She swallowed hard. Wow.

He'd stopped to look back at her. "Kate?"

"Where do you want your keys?" she asked, trying to cover her hesitation.

"Uh, just. Bring them with you. I try to keep them on my dresser or I'll lose them."

So now she had to follow him back to his room, her heart slowing as she neared the hallway. He was already in his room now; he took hold of the handle on his suitcase, swung it around. He disappeared from her view.

She was at Castle's apartment. For good. Her clothes were hanging in his closet.

Kate stepped into the room, pausing on the threshold to watch him unzip the suitcase, start pulling a few things out. Was he unpacking? She'd never figured him for the type to unpack the moment he got home; if she'd ever thought about it, and she really hadn't, she might have expected him to leave it for much, much later.

As she watched, Castle took out his bag of toiletries and started for the bathroom. So maybe he *didn't* unpack everything, just the necessities. Or maybe he felt it was pointless to unpack when they'd be heading for Cleveland soon. She followed him, hesitating again when he stopped and met her eyes in the mirror.

She realized she didn't know what to do. Or how much she *could* do, here in his home. She'd sleep in his bed, she'd pull out clothes from his closet, but did she need to ask to take a shower, brush her teeth? Could she raid the fridge at one in the morning when she woke from a nightmare, or go get a book to read on the couch until she fell asleep?

She wasn't even sure where her toothbrush was. The stuff from Quantico had mostly gone to the trash. She had shoved anything she wanted into Castle's suitcase when they'd packed for their flight home, but most of it she'd left. The running shorts, the khaki and polo uniform for classes, the stupid trainee hat.

"Kate? All your stuff is here," he said, gesturing to the sink before him. Twin vanities in gorgeous granite countertops, a sweeping mirror, the peek at a massive shower, the sinfully deep bathtub. "I made room."

Then she really looked and saw her electric toothbrush in its base next to what she could only assume was his toothbrush; she noticed a familiar line-up of face wash, lotion, and toothpaste in a neat row next to the sink, placed exactly the same way as she'd had them in her own apartment. Her bathrobe hung on a hook next to the shower stall.

"You made room," she repeated, then watched in amazement as he opened the medicine cabinet and she saw her razor, her assortment of beauty products, even that last box of tampons, half-empty.

He had made room. She leaned forward, hazarding a guess as to where he might have stowed her make-up, and opened up the bottom drawer in the cabinet between the two sinks. There it all was. Organized just as she had left it. Now in Castle's master bathroom, in as close to the same position as she'd had it in her own place.

She leaned back against the tiled wall separating the sinks from the shower. "This is. . .a little creepy, Castle."

"It is?"

She glanced at him in time to see the wash of disappointment on his face, felt badly for letting her mouth run away with her.

"But it's also. . .very sweet," she said softly, hoping to make up for it.

When Castle regarded her, she was sad to see the hesitance on his face, the guarded expression. "I didn't know what else to do, Kate."

She chewed on her lower lip. Kate pushed off against the wall and came towards him, knowing it was up to her to fix it but not knowing exactly how. "You did just fine."

"You can move anything you want, rearrange anything-"

"I'm sure you found good homes for everything," she said quickly, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder, his skin hot even through his crisp, French blue dress shirt. The blue made his eyes so brilliant, made the lines of his body so solid.

"No, I mean, you can move my stuff. Anything in the whole apartment. Well, maybe not Alexis's room. Even though she's leaving, I still-"

"I wouldn't dare touch Alexis's room," she interrupted. "Castle. You did good."

"I did?" He cleared his throat and nodded once, glanced down at his hands. "I'm not sure what we do next, Kate."

She smiled at him, because he looked like he needed a smile, and felt her hesitance disappear in the face of his concern. "I'm going to take a shower, brush my teeth, and then crawl into bed with you. That okay?"

He gulped and nodded, some of that original lust flaring in his eyes. Somehow, it was comforting to see; it was familiar. She reached down and took his bag of toiletries from him, dropped it on the counter, then put both hands at his chest, stepping in close, their thighs brushing.

It had been sweet of him, spending the last five months arranging things just like she'd had them in her own apartment, trying to get it right, hoping to make her feel welcome, at home. It was sweet and a little silly and exactly what she'd needed, even though she hadn't known she needed it.

She leaned in and slanted her mouth over his, working at his bottom lip first, sucking on the pout he'd displayed throughout the remainder of their flight, nibbling the corner of his mouth until his hands came up into her hair to hold her there.

She drew back long enough to catch the heavy-lidded arousal in his face, then aimed for his jaw, nibbling at the sharp demarcation of his chin and up the broad line of his mandible until she was breathless and dizzy at his earlobe.

His hands were under her shirt and sliding up and down, slow and soft strokes that made her arch against him, hungry and wanting. He kissed the sweep of her cheek, dragged his lips down to her neck as she struggled to keep hold of her wits.

A tug on her hair had her pulling away to see him devouring her with his eyes, greedy for her, drinking her in. She licked her bottom lip and he moaned, crashed his forehead down to hers with a little pant. Her skull bumped his.

"What is it with you and bathrooms, Kate? Always trying to jump my bones in the bathroom."

She laughed breathlessly, felt the rush of blood in her body, wanted nothing better than to push him to the floor, then straddle him.

The violent force of the image had her knees running to water, and she sagged, felt his arms holding her up.

"Take this off," she said finally, pushing on his hips to get him away. "Take it off and get in the shower with me. We can pretend we're cruising at 30,000 feet."

"Aye-aye, Captain."


Castle had fallen asleep, which he was mortified about the moment he woke, but Kate was asleep as well. He lifted his head and was surprised to find her leg tangled between his with her body stretched diagonally across the bed, her face turned away from him.

He was squeezed onto one side and had fallen asleep on his back, and apparently, he had even slept the night through because it was that slant of brilliant sunlight across his eyes that had woken him.

Rick checked the clock - 7:30; the arraignment was scheduled for that morning at nine and his daughter was slated to leave for college at noon. He was driving Alexis there with her stuff crammed into the back of his car, while Ashley drove his own car behind them.

He wasn't looking forward to leaving his daughter at college. His guts churned at the idea. And leaving her with Ashley seemed somehow worse. It wasn't, of course, and Ashley was a great guy with a gentleman's attitude towards his daughter, but it didn't matter.

Castle wasn't ready. He had wanted Alexis and Kate to have time to be at ease with each other before the wedding, before everything changed. He'd wanted Kate to be with him when he had to leave his daughter at her dorm, be his back-up on this one.

But she'd go to the arraignment today and probably meet up with Esposito and Ryan and the Captain to get a jump on this.

He was fine with that; he understood it. He really did.

It just. . .sucked.

Kate stirred, grunted as she woke up, then rolled over, a little closer now. "I've got a huge bruise on my back, you neanderthal," she muttered.

"You were the one who invited me into your shower," he laughed, his heart easing a little, grateful that somehow she'd known he needed a laugh. Or at least, grateful for her very good timing.

Kate slid her hand across the sheets and over his arm, squeezing. "Mm, I did. Make up for missing out on the Mile High Club?"

"Just about." He grinned at her raised eyebrow; even with the side of her face squashed into the pillow and her eyes still sluggish with sleep, she was good at displaying her irritation.

"Well, that's all you're gonna get, so it'll have to," she said.

"All. . .ever?" He gasped and rolled onto his side to trap her under his body.

She did some kind of trick with her leg and flipped them over. The air rushed out of his lungs on a gasp; Kate was perched on his chest with a triumphant grin.

"Maybe not ever," she whispered and dropped her mouth to his for a slow kiss. After a thorough investigation, she pulled back and licked her lips. "Morning breath."

"You started it."

"I'm not exactly complaining. Just commenting." Her eyes were smirking. If that were possible.

He untangled his hand from beneath the sheets and brought it up to touch the hair that had fallen forward, let his fingers skim through it. She'd cut her hair short for the training, but it was still soft and thick. It curled easily this way, especially since she hadn't used the hair dryer after their shower. It was different, and he liked it, liked how it reminded him of the first time he'd seen her.

Kate Beckett was in his bed at seven-thirty in the morning, lounging in his bed even. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and she turned her head into his palm to snag that thumb with her teeth. Her tongue, wet and hot, circled around and around, had him gasping, thrusting his hips into the angles of her body.

"Make it quick, Castle," she whispered, undulating against his hips, pressing herself down.

"Quick?"

"Arraignment today. And then Alexis."

"Alexis?" he grunted, trying to think, unable to think when she did that, that thing- "Oh!"

She chuckled and slid her hands up under his shirt, her knees on either side of his thighs, seemingly taking her time for a woman who'd demanded it quick. "Your daughter, Alexis?"

"Uh, jeez, Kate, what does she have to do with this?"

Kate's hands stopped and he gathered enough brain cells to open his eyes and look at her.

"Hopefully, she has nothing to do with this." Kate raised an eyebrow at him. "But she *is* leaving for college today, if I'm not mistaken. That's what you told me."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is. I'm taking her at noon."

Kate lifted up, moving her hips out of contact with his. "Am I. . .Did Alexis just want it to be the two of you?"

He blinked and tried to calm the erratic pulse pounding through his body. "Not that I know of. She mentioned wondering if you'd be back in time."

"I thought. . .I figured I'd go too," Kate said, chewing on her bottom lip. "But if she'd rather I didn't-"

Castle lifted his head to look at her. "Really? You want to - Yeah, I want you to come. Alexis will too. But the arraignment?"

"It's at nine. Plenty of time."

"But I thought you'd want to. . .you know. . ." He put his arm behind his head to keep his head propped up, his other hand at her waist.

She slid off of him onto her side, putting her hand under her head, watching him carefully. "I'd want to what?"

He wondered what that look in her eyes was. "Get started on the case, try to get a jumpstart on things. You've got to be in Cleveland Friday morning."

She shook her head at him. "I don't have to report there until Monday. Jordan gave me the weekend."

"How did that happen?"

"When I talked to Jordan at the airport on your phone, I told her I was flying back to the city for Lockwood's arraignment-"

"Oh. She knew it was for your mother's case-"

"No, actually. She was fine with me coming back for that, but it was when I told her we had to get Alexis to college-"

Castle laughed, nudged her shoulder. "You shamelessly used my daughter to get the weekend off."

"I did not. I didn't even know that was possible. But she said she'd tell Avery I was coming in Monday morning; she told me to make it work, make it up to you." Kate gave him a look that he knew meant he was in for some rough times as the partner to a woman in the FBI. "So we have a few days. We can get Alexis to college, and then distract you with the case when we get back."

"I will need a lot of distraction," he said mournfully. "I don't know that the case will be enough."

"I can help too," she answered, leaning forward to brush her lips across his nose. "You big baby."

"How about we get back to that quick distraction you mentioned?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the alarm clock. "I don't know. It's almost eight. . . ." She turned back around with a too-innocent look, her eyes wide.

He growled at her, leaned in to wrap his fingers around her neck and tug her forward. "Don't be a tease, Kate."

"But it's just sooo much fun, Castle."


Dread filled the hollowed out space in her as she sat down next to Rick. Lockwood was in the prisoner's cage at the front of the courtroom as they waited for his arraignment to start.

Her head turned at the thud of the door opening behind her. Two uniformed officers sauntered down the aisle; one gave her a look and she felt the indignation heat her chest, creep up her neck. She might not be a NYPD detective any longer, but she had every right to be here.

It stung that it had taken her FBI credentials to get her inside though. The bailiff hadn't been happy about letting her retain her weapon either.

Beside her, Castle squirmed in his seat. He hadn't heard what Lockwood had hissed at her through the cage bars, but she knew he had an idea it wasn't anything good.

"I'm sorry," Castle said softly, his hand brushing the outside of her thigh.

"What for?"

"It just seems like every time we find a new lead, something happens to shut it down. Lockwood murdered McCallister, McCallister murdered Raglan. All the cops that had something to do with your mother's murder are dead. There's that mysterious third man, but we have no way of getting his identity now."

She shook her head at him, gave him her best stoic-cop face. "This is actually what I've been waiting for; it's a break in the stalemate. I've been having a staring contest with the devil, and the devil blinked."

Castle was silent for a moment as the judge moved through the daily business. Lockwood was about twenty-seven down on the docket; they'd arrived early. Castle didn't look convinced.

"Look, Ryan's running down the transfer order; we know the signature was forged, but it had to have been done by someone with access. He's looking into correctional officers and clerical workers with authorization. This guy, the Dragon? Whoever he is, he left a trail. And we'll find it."

She knew she sounded too enthusiastic, too intense. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"What did Lockwood say to you just now?" Castle asked.

So he'd heard the tone in her voice as well. He must have figured she was the one rattled rather than the reverse.

"Nothing important."

"You went up there cocky and confident, Beckett, and when you came back, you looked shaken-"

"I'm fine." She said it reflexively, and winced even as she said it. "He said. . .he said not even the FBI could save me."

Castle's hand squeezed tight around her knee; he caught her eyes and she could see the rising tide of worry in his. Her dread multiplied.

"It's fine, Castle. He was just. . .pissing me off."

The dread rose in her throat now, like bile she couldn't keep down. She turned her head away from Castle, her eyes blinded momentarily on the chrome collar pins of the two officers sitting to her right. Lockwood was tense and restless in his cage.

Waiting.

The court was made to rise before the judge.

"Matter number 27 on the list, the People of the State of New York vs. John Doe, AKA Hal Lockwood. The matter is on for arraignment. Counselors for the record, and who you represent, please."

Her heart was pounding; she didn't know why. Saliva pooled in her mouth; her dread made her skin prickle, extra sensitive to the slightest stimuli.

Castle's fingers founds hers, tugged. "What is it?" he whispered.

"I don't know." She shook her head, winced when the morning light caught the metal on the officers' uniforms again, positioned at just the wrong angle. She had spots on her vision, Lockwood looked content enough to wait-

"Mr. Lockwood, do you waive a formal reading of this indictment?"

"I do," said with a sneer and sudden look to the gallery.

Kate narrowed her eyes, felt her brain click into gear. "Collar pins. The sunlight hit chrome collar pins-"

"What?"

"NYPD collar pins are brass," she whispered, her mouth dry, already slapping her jacket aside for her gun. Brass. Chrome. Not-

"Now!" Lockwood yelled.

Kate felt it in her guts a moment before Lockwood yelled; it was the only thing that saved them.

"Castle, down!"

She shoved her shoulder into Castle's side and brought him to the floor even as she heard the clinking roll of a grenade across the floor. Then the too-bright flash seared her eyelids, the percussive boom rattled her brain and scrambled her reflexes, shoved her hard into her partner.

Under her, Castle groaned. Her head had smacked the floor, and she was unable to make her limbs work. She couldn't make anything out through the smoke and haze and the after-images of the flash. She felt feet rushing past, sensed the bodies coming down the aisle, the mad dash for escape.

"Castle, you okay?" she yelled.

She watched his mouth move, but heard nothing; he waved an all-clear sign and she pushed to her feet, stumbling badly.

Lockwood was getting away. Damn it, he was already out of the court room.

Kate couldn't make her body work with her brain; she bounced off the gallery seats and careened into the door, fell to her knees outside and landed on something sharp.

Leg shackles. Handcuffs. She growled and squeezed her fingers around the chains as she rose to her feet.

All around her, people were on the floor. Another flash grenade, or perhaps a burst of gunfire; her ears were ringing, she wouldn't have heard either. A woman at her feet blinked.

"Where?" Kate yelled, pulling her gun out from its holster. She couldn't shake the ringing in her ears.

The woman waved towards the staircase. "Down," she seemed to say.

Kate took off at a run, head-checked the staircase for crossfire, then flew down the steps two at a time. She was at the tipping point of her control when she hit the first floor; she slid along the buffed floor then barely regained her traction.

Just ahead of her, she could make out Lockwood going at a too-fast clip, the fake police officers covering him. Neither paused to line her up in their sights, so she ran full tilt after them, heedless.

They were through the front doors now, and a ferocious thundering was replacing the ringing in her ears. A fucking helicopter. She grit her teeth and dug in, pushing the already-exhausted muscles in her thighs to get her there faster.

Too late. As she hit the front doors, Lockwood and his henchman jumped into the helicopter. She leveled her weapon at the front windshield of the bird and opened fire.

It rose and turned, and Lockwood was gone.

She exhausted her clip in vain.