A/N - I have no excuse for this being as late as it is except that I had to finish The Commitment - my muse sat tapping her toe impatiently until I recognized her. That being said, I only have three in progress stories to update now. :-)

Thank you, so very much for your continued readership. Thanks for all of the reviews, too. I'm addicted to your kind words.

Enjoy!

~GeekMom

Breaching the Castle

Chapter 10

Close

Erika Larson sat up for the thirteenth time since lying down a mere four hours prior. She had come in to the makeshift barracks after a grueling nearly twenty-four hour chase through the woods, hills, and fields of back-country Ulster County. They weren't any closer to capturing the fugitives. She should have known they would head for the first place they could get basic necessities. She should have seen it coming. She was exhausted. She had every right in the world to sleep, but she couldn't. She should be out on the trail, bringing in the bastards, not leaving it up to Fleming. Dave was a good cop but this was her op, not his. She compared herself to a new mother: she couldn't just leave her baby with any sitter, even if that sitter was a top notch, up and coming, kick-ass lieutenant. It was her op, and although she resented it, she understood the need for sleep. But sleep was proving to be as elusive as the Buchanans.

There was a soft knock on the door. The interruption stopped the circular argument she was currently exercising on the hamster wheel in her brain. Sighing or yawning, depending on which side of the disagreement you were routing for, she said, "Come in."

The door swung easily inward and a man stood silhouetted in the light spilling in to the darkened quarters from the hall.

"Who's there?" She asked. She stood. Diligence and caution had been inbred in her family. Just because it was highly improbable that someone would attack a supposedly sleeping State Police Lieutenant inside of the county sheriff's office in the middle of the night didn't mean it couldn't happen.

"Chill, sis. You the only one in here?"

"God…Justin, you scared me and no." She glanced at the two other occupants of the room. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Superhero," he explained, rubbing his palms together, "Born of another planet where sleep is unnecessary and superfluous. I could ask you the same."

"You mean superfluous like using superfluous and unnecessary in the same sentence?"

"I'm more about action than words. Besides, it's beside the point." He walked through the darkness and sat on the edge of her bed. "Look, I know that the mantle of command weighs heavy upon your shoulders,"

He wanted to take care of her, but, seriously? "Mantle of command, really?"

Impervious to her mocking the way that only an older brother could be, he continued. "You need to hang it up for the night and get some rest."

It was sweet, really, Erika thought. She smiled, happy to be somebody's kid sister.

"Well, that and you get like a thousand times worse than your worst PMS day when you miss your beauty sleep." He air quoted beauty when he said it. Offhandedly he persisted down the dangerous path to make his point. "Seriously: a total bitch." She shook her head and clenched her jaw. She should have known that he had another motive. She threatened him with her pillow. "You've got too many men working under you to subject them to that."

Oh yeah? At least I'm not some stupid superfluous superhero."

"Wow that was an amazing, well written come-back." He shook his head. "Did you just channel a fourteen year old?" Not yet getting the satisfaction of a rise he poked again. "Isn't that about when you got your first period?" Justin touched the hollow under his eye, deep in memory. "I think that's about the time I got my first black eye."

"Justin," she warned and covertly clenched her pillow.

"I mean," He continued, "We could just make sure that everyone had chocolate to throw at you, but that seems logistically…" He didn't finish his suggestions. It was hard to speak with a pillow shoved in your face." He retaliated and then she received goose down redemption when she smacked him squarely in the face making him lose his balance and crumple in a heap on the floor. She stood over him, gleefully doing an 'I kicked my brother's butt' victory dance.

"Don't think this makes you the winner of the war," Justin warned. "This was but a mere battle, now get to sleep. Oh and for god's sake, be quiet."

"Yeah, you too, ass." Erika smiled her thanks. "Goodnight, Justin." He winked as he closed the outer door.

After their skirmish, Erika sat back down on the bed, having laughed and relieved of the tension in her shoulders and back, she finally fell asleep.

Nicole Carr turned back over after witnessing Larson's late night meeting and took a deep breath. She had already reported what she had seen. It didn't make sense now any more than it had that afternoon. Maybe she missed something. If she went back to Callis now, it would seem like Carr had it out for Larson. She didn't: she really liked and respected the Lieutenant. She also worried for her. Carr sighed and shut her eyes.

Derrick sat in one of the armchairs in Castle's sitting room. He checked his wristwatch again, his patience rapidly running out like gasoline evaporated from an eight cylinder road hog. Ryan and Esposito sitting on the sofa, looked like two mischief-making students waiting for their principal, talked quietly to each other. The door opened abruptly and Beckett, who was sitting at the small round table contemplating her knuckles, watched as Castle walked through the doorway of his suite: he had an odd expression of his face; almost one of victory. He dramatically spun and held the door for the captain. All three of her detectives, exchanged looks and stood as Gates entered the room.

Gates ignored the surprised looks of her people and stepped purposefully through the room to stand in front of the still seated Derrick. She lifted her fists until they were firmly planted on her hips. Gates raised an eyebrow and unabashedly assessed Derrick from head to toe and pursed her lips. Castle actually felt bad for the agent: he had been subject to that very exam before. The captain's gaze was so fierce and intimidating that, he joked with the boys afterwards that if it had lasted any longer, he was certain the scrutiny could have made him pee a little. Castle hoped Derrick was experiencing the same level of discomfort. From the look on his face, he'd bet that the phony bodyguard would need to change his shorts.

Castle smirked and sat down at the table with Kate. "Captain Gates, this is Derrick…my bodyguard."

"Hmm," Gates grunted. "Derrick, is it?" Gates narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. "I want you to know, right here and now that if anything happens to my people because of some half-assed plan of yours, you will answer to me. Are we clear?"

Derrick rose to his full height in front of Gates, dwarfing the woman, and said, "It's a pleasure, but jeez Rick," He turned toward Castle, all but out and out ignoring Gates' outburst. "Can we cut the bodyguard crap? I know you've already told your partners the true nature of my occupation and I assume that the good Captain is equally well informed?"

Castle guiltily looked from partner to partner. "But…how?"

"I bugged your room," Derrick said shamelessly and crossed to the door. He opened it and looked in both directions down the hall before closing it again silently and sliding the privacy bolt. He turned back to the assorted expressions of outrage on the each member of the group's faces. He sneered and reached into the lamp. He pulled off a miniscule electronic device and held it up for everyone to see.

"What the hell!" Esposito bellowed as he charged toward the agent.

Ryan stood and grabbed his partner's shoulders, but shared his repulsion. "I thought you were here for Castle's protection."

Beckett said nothing but Castle noticed a fire in her eyes and her interlaced fingers grow white with bottled up irritation. Castle closed his eyes for a beat and then opened them again. "Ryan, Espo…guys thanks," he stood and gestured for his friends to relax. "Derrick," he began quietly. "How am I supposed to trust you, when you don't trust me?"

"Okay Ricky, settle down."

Beckett clenched her jaw. She did not like him, did not trust him, and despised how he patronized Castle.

Derrick counted on his fingers as he continued, "First: you trust me because of who sent me. Two: I knew you were going to tell everyone, because third: I'm a freaking spy: I don't take anyone at their word and I know my targets and objectives and so did the person who sent me. Hell, he suggested the bug." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Castle closed his eyes and after a long deep breath, slowly opened them, continuing to breathe deeply but still clamping his jaw tight. "And five,"

"Four," mumbled Ryan.

"Yeah, yeah. All right freaking four: we're all on the same page now. You're the one who wanted everyone to know everything. You said that you did not want to keep secrets from your partners, but you were willing to keep the fact that everyone knows who I really am from me and keep me in the dark. I guess that's okay."

Castle blinked. "I guess…I…I'm sorry?" He scrubbed his hand over his scruff on his chin. "I actually have no idea what you just said."

A smile spread its way across Derrick's face. "Good, we're even." He shook his head. "Most of the drivel that falls out of your mouth: I don't get either. The bottom line is that we all want the Buchanans back behind bars or better yet, in the ground."

"We'll bring them to justice," Beckett said quietly. Gates smiled inwardly but proudly. "We're cops; it's not our place to act as judge and jury. We capture them."

"And bring them in," finished Gates. Esposito and Ryan quickly nodded their ascent. Castle remained still. He did not make eye contact with Derrick or his team. If the truth were to be told, he would be okay with putting an end to this nightmare by ending the Buchanans.

Derrick smiled: it was not a warm thing. "Given what I do, I'm not under the same constraints that you are, but despite the recommendations of Rick's contact," he mimed air quotes as he said the word contact, with his fingers as he screwed up his mouth in disgust, "I will not terminate them unless they give me no choice. I'll tell you one thing; the freaking compassion is going to kill me." He shook his head and turned back to Castle. "Can we flipping start now?"

Castle made eye contact with Gates, the boys and finally Kate: each gave their silent consent to proceed. "Okay," he said as he sat back down next to Kate.

He had disappeared into Castle's bedroom. "Cool," they heard behind the door. Derrick reemerged wheeling a white board on casters. "'Cause I was going to anyway." He rubbed his hands together and grinned what to Beckett appeared to be a Castle-esque lopsided grin, only without the good nature behind it. "Alright class, what do we know?"

"Holy crap, Marvin. How did you come across this?"

"One of yours: a Trooper named Nicole Carr, she looks to be about twelve, but apparently she's been acting as an assistant to Larson and she's noticed some things."

"Things? What kind of things?" Chick sat forward in his seat. One of his primary functions was to keep the department from looking foolish.

Callis hesitated. "Just, well she says that the lieutenant talks to herself, a lot."

Woolford shook his head. "Hell, I've been having a non-stop conversation with myself since I was promoted."

Callis raised a sardonic eyebrow at his friend. "You're making this confession to convince me she's not crazy?"

"Funny," Chick sobered. "Do you think she is?"

Quickly, Callis shook his head. "Oh god, no. You and I both know about the stresses: no, I don't think she's incompetent. Anyway, Carr spoke to me because she was concerned about the one-way chats. I had Wilson pull her file and this." He shoved the file across his desk so his friend, who was pulling out glasses, could read it. Callis picked up his cup and took a long sip while Chick read the file.

"Jeesuss." Chick blew the simple swear out as he looked back up, removing his reading glasses.

"She volunteered to lead the op. Do you think it's about revenge?"

Woolford tapped the file. "The report says it wasn't definite and no charges were filed."

Their musing was interrupted by a scream outside of the building. Callis jumped up and ran to the corridor just as a frightened young women burst through the doors. Wilson grabbed her protectively and steered her back toward his desk. Callis waved Larson back into her room and then crept outside to assess the threat. Woolford, who was now more of a politician than a cop, came out of the sheriff's office just as Callis returned, holstered his weapon, and gave the all clear.

Wilson had the woman sitting in a chair behind the desk with him. She was a mess: her hair was wild, she had been crying and she had the shakes. Wilson thought that they might have an addict on their hands, but her eyes were clear and there was one overriding factor that he could not ignore: the woman was terrified.

Callis walked back to his deputy's desk. "Ma'am?" Callis began. "Are you okay?" She shook her head. "Mark, get her some water." Wilson moved out from behind his desk. "I mean are you hurt…injured? Did anyone attack you?"

"Ye…yes…it was them. I saw the brothers." Wilson froze in the hallway and turned back to his boss.

"Mark, put us in lock down," Callis ordered. By that time, the exhausted searchers that had been billeted there came wandering into the corridor.

Wilson took a few more steps to the wall behind his desk and pulled a lever, not unlike a fire alarm. It locked all the doors automatically.

"Chick, I'm going to take this young lady to a less public area." He nodded to the dozen or so people in the hall in various stages of undress and wakefulness. "Our sleepover guests will probably have questions. Could you handle that?"

Woolford nodded, he missed the actual police work and was pleased to help in any way.

They moved Marissa from the entryway to a conference room to take her statement and to calm the young woman.

"I'm Sheriff Callis, this is Deputy Wilson. What's your name, miss?" Callis asked after he had her seated and considerably more calm.

"My…my truck is outside. They tried to…" She buried her face in her hands again as images of the knife and its owner's cold eyes came back to her.

Callis glanced at Wilson, who stood and headed out to secure her truck. "Okay, let's start with your name."

"Marissa…my name is Marissa Bishop."

"Do you live around here?"

"Down in Stone Ridge. I work at the Kings Valley Diner."

"Oh…yeah, I thought you looked familiar, I just didn't place you. Good coffee and pie over there." Callis noticed an immediate difference in her posture. She began to relax.

Marissa's lips curled upwards. "Thanks."

There was a soft knock just before the door swung open. Doug Houser entered the conference room. Wilson paged him when the office locked down. "Doug." Callis met his deputy's eyes. Marissa this is my deputy, Doug Houser." Houser shook her hand and took a seat next to the sheriff. "Where did you see Joey and Liam Buchanan?"

Marissa breathed in and out audibly before she looked back at Callis. "Route 209…I…I thought I hit one of them and I stopped. People shouldn't walk out there at night."

"You're right. Did they approach your vehicle?"

"Oh god, yes."

"What happened?"

"They…tried to get in. My doors lock…but they tried. My window is broken…cracked. One of them had a knife." Marissa wrung her hands in her lap, her shoulders were slumped, and she sobbed as the memory of the events overtook her.

Callis placed a palm on her shoulder. "Marissa, take a minute if you need to."

She shook her head. "I think I hurt one of them."

"What do you mean?" Callis glanced at Houser.

"I didn't mean to, but he wouldn't let go." Through Callis' gentle urging, she continued. "I started to pull away and the one hung on to my door handle until I was going too fast. He rolled in the road behind me. I…I didn't stop. What if I've hurt him?"

"Shh, now Marissa, even if you might have hurt him; if you were trying to defend yourself, there's nothing to worry about." It would actually be okay with Callis, if. Truth to say, the Buchanans were making this whole week to be just a little too interesting. He longed for a little dullness.

Marissa seemed unconvinced but she said, "Okay."

"How long ago was this?"

"Um…maybe fifteen or twenty minutes. I turned back around and came straight here."

"Do you remember exactly where on 209?"

"Yes. I purposefully looked. Just north of the creek."

"Esopus Creek?" Doug asked. Marissa nodded. "Kev, that's just about fifteen minutes from the hotel."

"Yeah," Callis said as he rubbed his hand down over his face. "Let's hope they didn't succeed in getting a ride."

"Liam!" Joe screamed as he watched his brother roll away from the speeding truck. Joey scrambled over to the shoulder where his older brother rolled to a rest. He looked up and just saw the trucks taillights disappear as it crested over a hill. "That bitch!" He exclaimed and turned back to the figure on the ground. "Liam!" He knelt down and rolled him over. Liam's eyes were closed. There was a gash on his cheek and his arm looked bent in the wrong direction, his pants and jacket were torn. "Oh god, Liam?" He shook him desperately.

"Chill out little brother, "Liam gasped as he regained consciousness. "I'm okay. I just need a sec." He sat up, wincing a bit and stretching his joints and muscles, cracking his shoulder back into joint. "Damn, that was one hell of a ride." He said as he rubbed his arm. "I thought for sure she was gonna stop again, stupid bitch." He chuckled and held his hand up to Joe. "Come on, help me up. I'd bet my life that that whore is going straight to the sheriff. We need to get off the road."

Erika was instantly awake the moment she heard the scream. She jumped out of bed and into her shorts. Looking around she saw Carr and another female trooper just getting out of bed in the women's quarters. They followed Larson to the door and stood aside as she slowly opened it.

She stepped through the door. "Sheriff?" Callis waved her back. Larson was unarmed and if there were a credible threat, it would be better if she stayed back. She retreated along with the other two women. The room they were bunked in had no windows and only the one door. She locked it and waited.

They spoke for two hours; well spoke probably would not have been the word Castle would have chosen: argued, fought, debated, contended, brawled, tussled, or disputed would have been more accurate descriptors. In the end, it was made very clear that it was Derrick's way or the highway. Rick cringed at his mind's use of the overused expression. He couldn't wait to get past this and back to some form of a normal life.

Derrick was the operative with the experience. Even though he reluctantly acknowledged the inside the box, by the book experience of the detectives and even more so of the captain. He even said that Castle had proven to be useful at times, but despite all of that, none of them had ever been a part of a manhunt before, not on this scale. Therefore, it was his method and his approach was dangerous. Beckett had serious misgivings about the plan, but she understood the reason Castle agreed. He needed to be doing something constructive: to be in the fight. She understood, even though it did not make her happy about it.

Castle said goodnight to the boys and the captain at his door. Gates noticed Beckett's reticence to leave and called, "goodnight Detective."

"Good night, sir," she waved back. "Um, goodnight Castle," she said uneasily as she hurried out the door to be seen by Gates. It certainly felt like they were teenagers on a school trip. The chaperone kept a close eye on her charges.

"Oh, um…goodnight Beckett." Castle said as he shut the door. He turned to the agent. "You really are a son of a bitch."

"Yep." Derrick lifted his water glass and drank a sip in a toast.

"I don't know my contact," he mimicked Derrick's finger quotes from earlier that evening, "that well, but I'm willing to bet that he is an asshole and a prick, just like you are."

"You don't have to be mean about it, but yep."

"Terrific. Look, I have a headache. It has been a freakishly long day. I want you to go."

"Go where? I'm your bodyguard, remember?"

"Who? Who still believes that?" Castle frowned. "No, go find your own place to sleep. I've had it."

"But I really am here to provide body guard services."

"Go watch the front door then."

Derrick sat back down on the arm of the chair. "Oh ho," he sing-songed and nodded his all too smug noggin at the closed door. "Beckett. You want Beckett to come and play," he stated triumphantly.

Castle sighed and sat down in the opposing chair. He was quiet for a moment and Derrick thought that maybe the author had succumbed to sleep. He moved to get more comfortable but was startled when Castle drew in a sharp breath and said, "Yes…please?"

Derrick regarded his object of his mission. Jack had told him that he was his son, had told him that he never knew him until a few months back. Here he was pleading to see his girlfriend. He sighed. "Oh hell, I'll be in the lobby." He said as he pursed his lips in displeasure. "Lock the friggen door after she gets in here and don't open it for anyone but me, got it?"

"Yeah, I've got it." Castle said already swiping his phone. "Derrick?" He called. The spy turned around with a smug smile on his face, certain he would receive the thanks that he should have been afforded. Castle tilted his head. "Don't come back tonight. I'll see you at breakfast."

A smile spread across his face and he shook his head. "God, you sounded just like your dad, then. Have a good night, kid," he said as he opened the door. He closed it and Castle pressed her icon. Derrick re-opened the door. "I told you to lock this."

"I will when she's in here. Good night." There was no mistaking Castle's dismissive tone. Derrick had thought it more than once today, that if Jack had been a presence in the kid's life, he had no doubt that Castle would have been a hell of an operative.

After placing Marissa Bishop was in protective custody, Callis, Houser and Wilson and a dozen other troopers and deputies went to the area of the fugitives' sighting on route 209. Wilson had called the Ulster county highway department and secured high-powered halogen work lights, but a crew had to be woken up and then they had to get to the sight. He had the highway blocked for two miles both north and south. Callis joked that the young man was gunning for his job with his efficiency. Actually, Callis did not doubt that if he wanted it, Wilson would, someday be sheriff.

Callis pulled his SUV over to the guardrail and turned off the ignition. "The best way to do this is on foot boys. Let's go."

Wilson and Houser followed their boss onto the highway. Even at this time of night, when vehicles were few, the place was quiet. Without the traffic noise, it was like a cemetery. They swept their high-powered flashlight beams across the surface and walked for about a quarter of a mile when one of the younger staties called out. "I've got skid marks."

Under his breath, Houser said, "I don't doubt it." This elicited a much-needed tension-breaking chuckle from his partners.

"Let's take a look," Callis said as they walked to the side of the road. There were indeed tread marks and about thirty feet beyond the apex was a small puddle of blood. "Let's get it roped off and CSU up. For god's sake, watch where you all are walking. We don't want to trample anything. Also, stay vigilant: they could still be in the area." He made eye contact with Houser. "It's going to be another long one."

"I hope its Liam's blood and not some other unlucky driver's." Wilson said. That possibility had occurred to Callis back at his office, but he chose to believe that Liam was indeed injured and they had left the road again. He prayed for it, anyway. The brothers had already been responsible for enough blood shed.

Castle called Kate and asked her to come back to his room. She voiced her reluctance, "I just don't think…"

"Kate, please…I need you." He said it in such a hushed pleading way. There was no ulterior agenda. He was not seeing what he could get away with, which was the obvious motive behind why he gave her his key in the first place.

"Okay, give me a few minutes." She relented.

"You still have your key?"

"Mm hmm."

"I'm going to shower. Let yourself in and lock it. I'll only be five."

Castle let the scalding hot water work on his muscles after he washed away the day's grime, insecurities, set-backs and fear. He stood under its punishing spray for longer than the five minutes he told Kate.

Kate waited for him on the loveseat in the bedroom. She found a copy of Storm Warning on the table in his sitting room and picked it up, visiting its pages like she was on holiday to a favored destination with an old friend. She quickly became engrossed with the plot and didn't hear Castle when he appeared from the bathroom.

Castle allowed himself a smile as he observed her from the threshold of the bathroom. She wore a pair of dark blue leggings and one of his tee shirts: Captain America, old school from the comics, he had wondered where he had lost it. She had her hair up in a sloppy twist on the back of her head. She had already washed her makeup off and with her legs folded under her, she looked more relaxed and if possible, even more beautiful. Castle hated that he was causing her to stress and worry. Thinking of Burke he amended his thought: he hated that the Buchanans were causing her to stress and worry.

He walked across the thick carpet soundlessly. "Hey," he whispered, unwilling to startle her. He settled on the couch after she had lifted her eyes to him. He crinkled his eyes. "Nostalgic?" He asked indicating the book on her lap.

"It was here," she said dismissively and set the book back on the end table. "How are you feeling?" Kate watched him closely as he answered.

Castle paused, all the while silently answering her question: his emotions revealed by the expressions on his face. "A lot," he finally said.

"Castle?" She scooted closer to him and placed her cool palm upon his chest. She could still feel the heat from his shower through his tee shirt.

"I'm feeling a myriad of things right now. Mostly worn-out, I think. I just want to shut away everything that's happening: the manhunt, Derrick, Burke…"

"I was under the impression that things went well with Burke."

He scowled and answered, "Oh, yeah, they did…well as well as it can be when someone forces you to acknowledge your most painful character flaws and recent mistakes and rubs you raw with them, but yeah, it went well."

"Castle…" She moved the hand to his arm, lifted her other one into his hairline, and absently played with the soft, damp, brown locks.

"Can we not talk?"

She was surprised by his request and she raised a quizzical eyebrow. He always wanted to talk things through.

"I am so done talking, Kate. I just…" He laid his damp head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. He raised his hand, pinched the bridge of his nose and ended by rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. "I need quiet," he finished softly.

She was quiet.

Kate sat forward and came to rest on his lap.

"Kate?" She brushed her fingertips across his lips, demanding his stillness. Then she massaged his temples with those same fingertips and let her hands explore his scalp and nape of his neck, the shell of his ears. She felt him begin to relax under her ministrations. He tensed, sighed and she watched him swallow and bring himself back. "But…" She met his eyes with a warning, and then she softened her stern gaze into a small teasing smile. She quietly took possession of his mouth to keep him from any further speaking and through her silent attentions; she quieted all of the self-doubt and lingering questions in him.

Kate awoke against the warmth of his body behind hers, which was tucked safely under the weight of his arm, draped over her torso. His face was buried in her hair and with every exhale, she felt a soft caress which sent shivers across her scalp. She sighed contentedly and slowly turned in order to see his face. She looked him over carefully: peaceful, for the moment anyway. Her musing was interrupted by a knock on his door. She closed her eyes and breathed: she bet it was Derrick. Kate was not sure where the spy spent the night, but she was grateful he was not in the next room. She slipped out from under Castle carefully so as not to wake him and padded her way to his door. She checked the peephole and tiptoed back to his room.

"Castle," she whispered and shook him gently.

"Mm…"

"Seriously, Castle, Gates is at the door." She continued her assault on his slumber.

"Mmhm, Gates…Gates? What? …Kate?" He opened one eye.

"Yeah, Gates is here."

There was another knock and he frowned. "Gates?"

Kate rolled her eyes. He was not a quick riser. "Castle, you have to go to your door. Gates can't know that I'm in here."

"Yeah," he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He started for the bedroom door.

"Castle!" She whispered sharply.

"Yeah, Beckett, I'm up, I'm up." He said as he yawned and scratched a hand through his disheveled hair.

"I know. All of you is up." Kate loved his frumpy morning look: like everything else he did, Castle truly enjoyed sleeping. Most of the time, when he wasn't visited by nightmares.

He turned back to her, yawned again, and said, "Grammar should not be ignored, even in the morn…"

"Castle, you need to put on some clothes." She dramatically looked him up and down stopping at his mid-section.

"Oh," he smirked, "right." He sophomorically grinned, "Good morning." Bending down, he picked up his sweatpants from the previous night, and stepped into them. He noticed her watching his every move and cheekily paused to model the dark gray fleece, swinging his ass as he walked out of the room. Kate, wide-eyed, bit her lips and barely suppressed her giggle as she heard him bid the captain good morning.

"Captain Gates. You're up early. Is everything all right?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, Mr. Castle." She kept her focus trained on the half-asleep, half-naked man's eyes and not his bare chest. "Oh. Um, Sheriff Callis called and I thought you should know right away."

"Um, come in, um please." All of the early morning fun and humor was replaced by the sobriety of the situation. "What did he have to say?" He gestured to the sitting area.

"Again, I apologize for getting you out of bed." Her eyes roamed his suite.

"Captain?" He asked well aware who she was looking for. "What did Kevin say?"

Gates brought her eyes back to his. "There's been another incident. Apparently the brothers tried to car jack a young woman's truck last evening…"

"Oh god." He shut his eyes.

"Unsuccessfully," she continued, laying her hand on his forearm. She pulled it away once she had his attention again. "One of them was injured in the attack and the dogs have picked up the scent again."

Castle sat still for a moment. "Good, that's good, right?" The look on the captain's face did not reflect good news. "What?"

"It happened less than fifteen miles from here."

Castle chewed on his lip as he thought about the ramifications of what she had said. He pulled his lips flat against his teeth before blowing out a breath. Castle stood and crossed his room to the double French doors. He opened them to the chilly spring air. He blew warmth into his hands and then rubbed them together. "I guess today would be a great day to start our operation." He grinned coldly as he looked out over the forest from his balcony.