Author's Note: The move to the Hamptons and the return of Agent Shaw. Enjoy.

Nothing Lost

Chapter 46

It seemed to Castle that the next couple days were a strange mix of a whirlwind of action interspersed with periods of waiting.

Everything fell into place according to their agreed-upon plan, which didn't surprise him if only because he was in no state of mind to accept no for an answer and would have willingly used every cent he had and every connection he'd ever made if it would make it happen. But fortunately, it wasn't necessary.

He called his friend the doctor, Chris, as they were walking back to the cabin, Beckett carrying the cassette player while he had the all-important cassette once more tucked away in his pocket. Chris had been happy to hear from him and just as happy to call up his friends among the surgeons on staff at the hospital and promised to call back as soon as he knew anything.

That was the first period of waiting as until Beckett's appointment had been scheduled, they could not talk to Jim about the move, not knowing the timing or if it would even be possible to schedule an appointment so last minute.

But fortunately, Chris called back within a couple hours with the name and number of one of his good friends, a Dr. Whittier, a surgeon who was expecting a call about squeezing Beckett in for an appointment within the week. Castle promptly called Dr. Whittier, fully prepared to offer anything he could up to and including outright bribery if that would work but found it wasn't necessary because Dr. Whittier, a genial man by the sound of him, had apparently met Alexis through his own daughter being friends with Chris's daughter and been favorably impressed by Alexis and was therefore willing to do a favor for Alexis's dad. Castle sent up a silent thanks to the fates, not for the first time, for having a daughter like Alexis and passed his phone to Beckett to speak to Dr. Whittier herself.

Dr. Whittier agreed to fit Beckett in for an appointment during his lunch hour on Thursday and with that, the move to the Hamptons was set in place.

Talking to Jim was somewhat more of a challenge, requiring every bit of whatever acting talent he'd inherited from his mother, to seem unaffected and only concerned with Beckett's physical therapy. But he managed, launching into a somewhat overly enthusiastic description of his house in the Hamptons, sounding like a real estate agent trying to make a sale to his own ears, in an attempt to make up for Beckett's quietness.

Once assured of Beckett's agreement and informed about her appointment with Dr. Whittier, Jim easily agreed to moving to the Hamptons for the next few weeks after only a mild protest at the idea of imposing on Castle, which Castle was quick to shoot down.

Preparing to leave the cabin occupied both him and Jim after that as neither of them would allow Beckett to so much as lift a finger to help. All she was permitted to do was pack up her own clothing. Jim was clearly an old hand at cleaning up after a visit and preparing the cabin to sit vacant once again and Castle was happy to be kept busy.

So they were able to leave the cabin the following afternoon, Castle reflecting on how quickly things had changed. It had only been the day before that he'd returned, little knowing he would be leaving again barely 24 hours later, this time with no plans to return. He was, strangely or perhaps not so strangely, oddly reluctant to leave the cabin that had been such a haven for not just Beckett but for him too in these last weeks. It was here that his and Beckett's relationship had deepened, started to feel real and solid. It was here where he and Beckett had gone on their first date—had it really only been a week ago?

But this time, he was leaving with Beckett and that made all the difference.

He glanced at Beckett to see how she was reacting to this departure and felt the first little prick of unease at the expression on her face, so… controlled, so… shuttered. Of course, he told himself, she had to keep up a front for Jim's sake, could not let Jim know that anything at all was amiss.

He and Jim had agreed that Beckett could ride with him on the long drive to the Hamptons with Jim following behind, although Castle had given Jim the address and directions to the house anyway.

Castle glanced at Beckett as they drove out of the driveway, leaving the cabin behind. They were alone now, Jim safely in his own car behind them, but her expression was still too… blank for his comfort. He wanted to ask if she was okay, what was wrong—inane questions since he knew exactly what was bothering her—and he knew Beckett too well by now to think she would appreciate the inquiry. Instead, he settled for saying, "Well, we're on our way."

"Nice observation skills," she responded drily. "How long will the drive take, do you think?"

Okay, so not about to have a serious conversation then. "We should be there around dinner time. I've called some friends who also look after the place when I'm not around so there should at least be some food in the house and things will be ready for us."

"Very responsible of you, Castle."

"I have my moments."

"Tell me more about the house. How long have you had it?"

"Since Alexis was around 8. She was so excited at the idea of having a pool and being able to go to the beach so I caved and bought it."

"Such a sacrifice for you, buying a big beach house just for your daughter," she drawled.

He took the hint, accepting that Beckett wasn't willing to talk any more about her mom's case or her reaction to the tape. He slid into telling stories from past summers in the Hamptons, teaching Alexis to swim in the pool, having sand castle competitions on the beach, watching Fourth of July fireworks from across the bay.

Beckett smiled and made teasing, pointed remarks and for a while, he felt some of his concern and his tension ease as he simply enjoyed her company.

She fell asleep about halfway during the drive, which he was glad of because he could see faint shadows under her eyes indicating she had not slept well the night before. He felt another prick of worry; was she having nightmares about Bracken, her mother's murder? He supposed it was almost inevitable that she would. He knew how much her mother's death had devastated her and for now, Bracken was still out there. He could only imagine all that Beckett was feeling right now, to know she was so close to finally getting justice for her mother. After all these years, all that she had already been through over her mother's case.

These next few days until they were able to talk to Agent Shaw would not be easy. And even after they handed the cassette over to Agent Shaw and she was able to act on it, Castle wasn't naive enough to think there would be no emotional repercussions for Beckett when Bracken was finally arrested. Beckett's mother's case had haunted Beckett, been an open wound in her life for more than a decade. She had built her entire adult identity around her mother's case and the search for her mother's killer. It was why she'd become a cop in the first place, in many ways the foundation of her life, and he could only imagine what might happen when that foundation came tumbling down.

Getting justice and finding peace would be wonderful in time, but the immediate aftermath of a war—and a war that had been going on for more than a decade—was always messy.

She slept for most of the rest of the drive and Castle kept a careful watch as she slept, his concern not particularly eased. She appeared to be sleeping soundly enough but even in sleep, she didn't look relaxed, a faint frown lingering on her brows. He wondered if she was having bad dreams but was reluctant to wake her because he wasn't sure and if she wasn't, he didn't want to disturb her rest.

She stirred a little, a very soft sound, not quite a whimper, escaping her, and now, he did wake her, reaching out to nudge her arm gently. "Beckett. Wake up."

She jolted awake, her eyes flying open, something like alarm flashing across her face before she realized where they were, met his eyes.

"You okay?"

"Fine," she clipped.

He didn't try to push, instead made a gesture out the window. "Look, you can see the water now."

That distracted her and seemed to ease her a little, at least he hoped so on the rest of the drive. She straightened up in her seat as they left the highway and started driving through surface streets.

For the first time, it occurred to Castle to wonder if Beckett would feel uncomfortable in his Hamptons house. Beckett almost always seemed so confident, so at ease with herself, but he also knew she had some deep-seated insecurities and, he suspected, some lingering issues with his wealth or, more accurately, the disparity in their relative wealth. She was the first woman he'd met in years who not only didn't like him for his money but in fact, was probably actively discomfited by it. The certainty was precious to him but at the same time, he wanted her to feel comfortable out here, just as he did.

Now, he noticed as he rarely did, the size of the houses they passed, the evidence of the average income here. His own house was far from the largest or most ostentatious on the street but it wasn't the smallest one either.

But then, this was still Detective Beckett and he could not imagine her ever being intimidated by something like material wealth—could not really imagine her intimidated at all.

He turned into his driveway and heard her soft intake of breath. For a moment, it was as if he viewed the house through her eyes, seeing its (excessive) size, its opulence. And it was over the top, especially considering the size of his family. He found himself remembering how much Gina had liked the house, liked to invite people to it to host large, fancy parties to impress people with his wealth. Remembered too how much Beckett had initially disliked his over the top displays of wealth when they'd first met.

He could have made a bad joke—something like 'it's not much but it's home'—but instead, he limited himself to a simple, "We're here."

He hurried to help her out of the car and she managed a faintly teasing smile. "You rich or something?"

He shrugged and gave a small, not entirely easy, chuckle. "I don't own a private helicopter or anything but I do okay."

She snorted. "Okay," she muttered under her breath before shooting him a small smirk. "This isn't a house; it's practically a castle."

He grinned. That was more like his Beckett. "Castle's castle, I like it. I know it's a little much but it was on the market when I was looking and at the time, I was still a little high on fortune."

Now she smiled. "Well, I can certainly see why you and Alexis like it so much. So do you wanna give me the grand tour?"

"Sure," he agreed. "I'll just grab our stuff from—"

He was interrupted by Jim's arrival, his car turning onto the driveway.

Jim stepped out of his car, his eyebrows raised. "This is some place you have here, Rick. I can see what you meant about my not being in the way. We can probably go for days without even setting eyes on each other from the size of this place."

He laughed. "Not quite but there is certainly plenty of room. Glad you made it and welcome. I was just about to give Beckett the grand tour."

"Well, then, I guess I arrived just in time." Jim paused to drop a kiss on his daughter's cheek. "Hi, Katie."

Jim immediately turned away to retrieve his bag and then turn towards the house so he, thankfully, didn't notice but Castle was watching and he caught the way emotion momentarily flickered across Beckett's expression. His heart clenched a little. He'd never doubted it but she loved her dad so much, was so fiercely protective of him and so worried over what the new revelations about her mother's case might do to him. It wasn't only Beckett's life who'd been so irretrievably shattered by Johanna Beckett's death. It wasn't only Beckett whose peace of mind Castle needed to keep in mind.

He could not take Beckett's pain away but one thing he could definitely do was help her to protect Jim.

Fortunately, the new surroundings of his Hamptons house were an easy distraction and Castle was quite happy to play the host, showing Jim and Beckett over the house, the single guest room on the ground floor which he'd decided would be Beckett's at least for now, until going up and down stairs was easier for her, and then allowing Jim to pick from one of the four guest rooms upstairs. He and Jim rejoined Beckett downstairs as he quickly showed them his office/library, the two casual family rooms, and then led them out to the expansive dining room and kitchen area, all of which overlooked the lawn and the bay.

He found himself relaxing, delighting in the way Beckett's faint discomfiture seemed to ease as she saw more of the interior of the house, the approval in her eyes. He hadn't been kidding when he'd told her he'd wanted to invite her out here for years, basically since the moment they'd met—at first mostly as a way to see her in a swimsuit and, yes, have the fling which had been all he'd really wanted at first (he remembered his own shallowness with an inward grimace) but the more he'd known her, he'd just wanted to give her a break, the chance for a relaxing vacation considering how hard she worked. The Hamptons had always been a refuge for him, somewhere he could relax, and he had wanted to share it with her.

And now, finally, he could.

A tour of the grounds outside was postponed until the next day in favor of preparing dinner and the rest of the evening passed quickly, with Castle making an effort to keep both Jim and Beckett amused by sharing more stories about past summers out here. It worked too. By the time they'd finished eating dinner, the atmosphere was relaxed, felt as if they'd been out here for days. It made it easy to imagine future summers out here, when all this was over. He and Beckett and their families, just enjoying the summer, barbecues for the Fourth of July, days spent at the beach…

Oh yes, he could imagine it, wanted it. Their families, each broken in their own ways, but somehow fitting together to make a whole.

In spite of his lingering worries over Johanna Beckett's case hanging over them, he felt a surge of hope that this move to the Hamptons would prove to be a good thing, another step forward for their relationship, their lives…

Castle had always been an optimist but by the following Saturday, even he was finding it hard to feel quite so sanguine. If he had hoped that relocating to the Hamptons would be the catalyst for a shift in his and Beckett's relationship, well, it sort of had, just not in the way he'd hoped.

Rationally, he knew it wasn't being in the Hamptons that was the cause—it was her mother's case—but even so, it was hard to keep from missing the intimacy of the cabin and how much… easier things had been at the cabin.

Both Beckett and Jim appeared to have settled in at his house. On a couple mornings when Jim had awoken before Castle had, Jim had been comfortable enough to start the coffee and begin making breakfast before Castle had arrived.

At least on the surface, everything was going well, according to plan. He had driven Beckett to her appointment with Dr. Whittier on Thursday and Beckett had been cleared to start physical therapy from Monday, with the expectation that after 4-6 weeks of physical therapy, she would be cleared to return to work. His mother and Alexis had joined them yesterday and were getting along well with Jim, his mother (thankfully) behaving in a somewhat more restrained fashion than she otherwise might, although he wasn't sure how long that state of affairs would last.

But it was Beckett herself and their relationship that was mostly worrying Castle. Not because she was avoiding him in any way—he found himself thinking, oddly, that he might almost have preferred it if she had been—but because when she was with him, she was… friendly, too friendly. Certainly whenever Jim was present, she kept up an untroubled façade, behaving much as she had before, smiling and occasionally teasing, very much the way she'd used to behave in the precinct. Which was the problem. She was treating Castle as she treated one of the boys, as if they were friends, good friends even, comrades, but not sharing any deeper emotions.

He tried to tell himself—and he did, repeatedly—that her friendliness was part of the show for Jim's benefit and didn't actually mean anything for their real relationship. But even when Jim was not present, an invisible barrier remained. She was quiet, even quieter than she usually was, and discouraged any of his tentative personal inquiries. The few times he'd ventured to ask how she felt or mentioned her mom's case, she'd answered briefly that she was tired or that she didn't want to talk about it. Technically truthful answers, he was sure, but not reassuring ones.

And they hadn't touched. He hadn't kissed her since their last walk in the woods around the cabin. He had usually been the one to initiate their kisses but he realized now that Beckett had proven to be more willing to touch him, more open to displays of affection, than he might have expected from the cool, reserved detective he had first met. It wasn't just holding his hand but she had easily fallen into bestowing small, seemingly insignificant touches in passing, on his arm, his shoulder, his back, sometimes his face and hair. And she'd been more willing to sit next to him, nestle against him, than he had expected.

But no longer. Since they'd arrived in the Hamptons, she'd kept to herself. And he hadn't wanted to push her in any way so he'd refrained from any caresses, let alone kisses, since they'd arrived.

Castle tried very hard not to feel even the smallest prick of hurt. He knew—he knew—how much she cared about him. She'd proven it over and over these past few weeks and he knew she wasn't fickle.

This, the way she was acting now, had nothing to do with him, he knew that. He understood that she was preoccupied with her mom's case and all the emotional repercussions of the latest revelation, the one overriding concern crowding out all other thoughts to the exclusion of all else. He knew all that but it didn't make it much easier to feel so helpless, so cut off from all she was going through. He was a fixer, liked to fix whatever was wrong, especially for people he loved. And knowing that Beckett, the woman he loved with everything in him, was going through this sort of emotional turmoil alone and he was unable to make it go away or help in any other way felt like a form of sophisticated torment.

He tried to put it all out of his mind as he straightened up some of the picture frames in the family room for the second time. He was fidgeting and he knew it, had cleaned the kitchen and dining room to spotless condition, neatened his office and cleared off his desk, and now was going through the family rooms to straighten up the cushions and other things, again. There was no earthly reason for any of this, he was aware. Agent Shaw was due to arrive soon but he highly doubted Agent Shaw would be noticing the furnishings or would care if a few frames weren't perfectly aligned. It wasn't a social call.

When Beckett had called Agent Shaw a couple days ago, Agent Shaw had expressed curiosity about the important evidence they had found and needed to give her (Beckett had not been more specific than that over the phone) and had agreed to come see them in the Hamptons today, needing to take care of some actual work beforehand since this investigation into Bracken was something she was doing on the side, not an official assignment. (Agent Shaw had not mentioned the investigation to any of the higher-ups at the FBI because she hadn't wanted to risk any rumors reaching Bracken, the higher-ups at the FBI generally being acquainted with many of the main power players in D.C. which would include Bracken.)

At least, they had the house to themselves. Castle had prevailed upon his mother and Alexis to take Jim out to visit Oheka Castle at the end of Long Island, claiming to feel like a failure as a host in not taking Jim to see any of the local sights. Beckett had persuaded Jim by making much of her own guilt at forcing him to spend so much time indoors, taking care of her all summer, without doing anything more fun. Jim had eventually agreed so his mother, Alexis, and Jim were away and not due back until close to dinner time, by which time, with any luck, Agent Shaw would be on her way back to the City, with the cassette safely in her custody.

The sound of the doorbell had him starting and glancing sharply over at Beckett. For a fleeting second, their eyes met in a moment of understanding as he knew they were both mentally bracing themselves for this conversation with Agent Shaw. They were partners, still.

Beckett stood up, straightening the button-down she was wearing in a gesture he'd noticed before when she was about to go into an interrogation she expected to be tough. In her button-down and jeans, she looked like her old self.

He headed to the front door, opening it to see Jordan Shaw. He blinked. Maybe it was silly but he'd still been expecting her to be wearing a business suit as she had been that day in the hospital. Instead, she was dressed casually, in jeans and a casual blouse, her hair up in a ponytail, although her casual dress was belied by the fact that she was carrying a briefcase.

"Mr. Castle, quite a place you have here."

He shook her hand. "Good to see you again, Agent Shaw. How was the drive?"

"Just fine, thanks."

He stepped back to allow her inside. "Well, welcome. Can I get you something to drink, water, soda?" he offered a little awkwardly, the automatic courtesies coming to his lips even though everything in him simply wanted to get through this meeting.

"No, thank you, Mr. Castle." Her gaze flicked past him to Beckett who had joined them. "Detective Beckett, you're looking even better than I expected," Agent Shaw greeted.

Beckett managed a smile. "Thank you, Agent Shaw. I am doing better. And how are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine, but I can tell you I'll be doing much better once we can put Bracken away," Agent Shaw added briskly. "So why don't we get to it?"

He met Beckett's eyes briefly and then made a gesture with his hand. "We can use my office."

Beckett was the one to lead them to his office and he was momentarily distracted at the thought, the idea, that Beckett was almost acting as a co-host. Oh, he wanted that.

He closed his office door behind them. Unnecessarily, since they had the house to themselves, but irrationally, he still felt like he wanted this conversation to take place in an enclosed, private space. Beckett and Agent Shaw gravitated to the seating area at the end of the room that doubled as the library while he pivoted to the other side of the room, the wall on one side of his desk, quickly opening up the safe where he'd kept the cassette.

He joined Beckett and Agent Shaw to find Beckett was giving Agent Shaw a very brief summary of how the cassette had been found, both the role the boys had played, as well as mentioning that her mom must have hidden the cassette in the elephant.

Agent Shaw gave a brief, dry sort of chuckle. "I should have realized that even while on sick leave, you'd still find a way to help the investigation considering not even having your apartment blown up gave you a moment's pause before."

"I've been told that I never back down," Beckett returned with a bare flicker of a glance at him.

He felt a little spark of warmth, something like hope, in his chest at this reference to his own words to her.

"I'm aware. Now, what's on this tape that's so vital?" Agent Shaw asked.

He had already placed the cassette into the cassette player and glanced at Beckett, receiving a small nod, and he pressed play.

He held his breath as Bracken's voice seemed to echo in his office, tried not to shudder, but the moment Montgomery started speaking, Beckett abruptly jerked to her feet and he automatically stopped the tape.

"I can't listen to this again," Beckett rasped out and then she fled; that was the only word for her headlong rush out of his office.

Castle bolted to his feet, hesitated, glancing between the open door of his office and Agent Shaw. And made a split decision. They had already trusted Agent Shaw this far and Beckett needed him. There was never a choice about it. He hurriedly handed the cassette player to Agent Shaw. "Listen to the rest. Excuse me," he blurted out in a rush and then he too ran out of his office.

Beckett hadn't made it far. He found her just around the corner, listing against the wall as if she could no longer hold herself up, and his heart seemed to clench.

She was pale, her eyes wide and blank, short, jagged gasps for air escaping her. Oh shit. He gently maneuvered her so she was leaning against him rather than the wall, rubbing one hand in soothing circles along her back.

"Ssh, Beckett, it's okay. Just breathe, in and out. Try to match my breaths," he crooned against her ear. "Don't try to fight it, just breathe, slowly. You're going to be all right. I'm right here. It's okay. Just breathe…" And so on, babbling reassuring nothings with no clear idea of what he was saying but he supposed it didn't matter.

It seemed like a small eternity but he supposed it was only a matter of minutes before her breathing slowed, became more even. He kept up rubbing her back and after a while, she sagged further into him, burying her face into his shoulder. His heart leaped as he felt her hands tentatively, almost shyly, creep around his waist, more lightly holding onto his waist than embracing him, but it was something.

"We're going to get him," he promised quietly. "We will. This is the last step, giving the evidence to the FBI. It's almost over."

It was another few minutes before he felt her stir, nodding a little against his shoulder before she lifted her head. He drew back just enough to meet her eyes, reassured now as he saw that her eyes were clear, were able to meet his.

"Agent Shaw?"

"I left her to listen to the tape."

She nodded, straightening up yet further, and he could almost see as she gathered her composure, steeled herself again. Becoming his indomitable Beckett once again.

He dropped a quick kiss on her temple. They were so close, she hadn't been so close to him in days, and he could swear that he never loved her more than he did in these moments, when she made herself become stronger.

She allowed it, at least, but her only response was to say, "We need to get back to Agent Shaw."

He suppressed a sigh because, of course, she was right. And so they did, returning to his office.

Agent Shaw looked up as they entered and he closed the office door again. The agent studied Beckett closely but didn't ask how Beckett was doing and he mentally approved Agent Shaw's tact.

"You're showing us up, Beckett. My team and I have been digging for weeks and even on sick leave, you're the one to come up with the strongest piece of evidence to tie Bracken to murder," Agent Shaw greeted.

Castle decided for the second time in as many minutes that Agent Shaw was very perceptive and clearly understood Beckett's character because her words, the slightly dry tone, helped to put Beckett at ease.

"Just wanted to help after you've been doing all the heavy lifting," Beckett responded, almost sounding like her usual self.

"This certainly does help. And to think, it was sitting on your desk this whole time," Agent Shaw noted before she straightened up, her tone changing to become all business. "Okay. I'm going to need signed statements from each of you as to how you received the tape and attesting it's never been out of your control since you received it. When I get back to the City, I'll contact Detectives Esposito and Ryan for their statements on finding it, for chain of custody purposes. Then my team and I will dig in, gather everything we have, and try to tie Bracken to the other murders as well."

Oh, right, the other murders. Castle remembered with a pang of something like guilt that there had been three other victims murdered around the same time as Johanna Beckett, other victims whose families also deserved justice. The tape tied Bracken to Johanna Beckett's murder but not to the others.

"How long will it take?" Castle blurted out. How much longer would Beckett need to wait.

"A week or two, possibly more. I put a couple of forensic accountants I know and trust on Bracken's various financial records, personal and political, and there's a lot there—campaign finance violations are the least of the possible illegal activities, ties to drugs—"

"Drugs," Beckett interrupted. "My mom was involved in a clean up the streets campaign and I talked to a drug dealer named Vulcan Simmons and—"

"And Dick Coonan had a drug ring going on too, right?" Castle interjected.

"He did," Agent Shaw confirmed. "It was Coonan that made us start looking for a drug connection to Bracken and your detectives mentioned Vulcan Simmons. All of this is by way of explaining that this is a lot bigger than even the conspiracies you know about so it'll take a little while to put all the evidence together. Bracken's powerful so we'll need enough to practically guarantee conviction before a judge will sign off on an arrest warrant. So it'll be at least another week before you hear of more action on this but I'll be in touch."

"A week," Beckett breathed.

Agent Shaw's expression softened a little. "I know the wait is tough but cutting corners now isn't going to help us later. We're going to do this right to make sure it'll all stick and he gets put away for good."

Castle abruptly remembered what Beckett had said to him before kicking him out two years ago—that the idea of her mom's killer going free after just a few years made her sick.

Beckett nodded. "I understand."

With that, it seemed everything was settled. Agent Shaw tucked the all-important cassette into an inside pocket of her briefcase and he retrieved notepads from his desk, one for him and one for Beckett, as they each wrote out their signed statements and then handed them to Agent Shaw.

After that was over, he offered Agent Shaw lunch—it was lunch time and he could hardly do anything less considering she'd driven all the way out here for this—and so, although it was a little strange and unexpected, he found himself sitting down to a lunch of sandwiches with FBI Special Agent Jordan Shaw and Beckett, of course. It was awkward at first. He'd only met Agent Shaw once before, not under ideal circumstances, and he would not say Beckett and Agent Shaw were precisely friends but then Beckett asked about Agent Shaw's daughter and Agent Shaw softened more than he'd yet seen her, her expression lighting up with a smile.

He found himself blinking. Agent Shaw had a daughter and judging from her expression, she was very much an involved and loving mom. That was… surprising and impressive. He looked at Agent Shaw with new eyes, trying to reconcile the tough, capable FBI agent he knew she was with this new softer side.

She really was very like Beckett—or perhaps what Beckett could be in the future. Would Beckett want to be a mother?

His unruly mind suddenly presented him with a vivid memory of finding the little kidnapped girl, Angela Candela, two years ago, the softness in Beckett's expression as she'd lifted the little girl into her arms. And more recently, seeing the way Beckett talked to Alexis. He felt a spasm of longing so powerful it made him almost dizzy. He wanted it. God, he wanted it so much. He'd never really thought about it, having more kids generally or Beckett as a mother specifically, but now, he did and he wanted it, wanted kids with Beckett. Beckett, who would, he was sure, devote as much of herself into any kids she might have as she did with her job now—that was just the sort of person she was, dedicated, loyal, loving.

Oh god, he wanted kids with Beckett. If—oh, if—she wanted that too…

He was abruptly pulled back to reality at the sound of Alexis's name and he blinked, realizing Beckett was answering Agent Shaw's question about his having a daughter too.

"That's nice. I bet she's your little girl, isn't she?" Agent Shaw smiled.

He made a small face. "She's almost 17 and starting her senior year of high school so she's not so little anymore but yeah, even in spite of that, she's my little girl." And wondered, not for the first time, how it was possible that Alexis could be so close to leaving for college when he could swear it had only been a couple years since she'd started kindergarten.

Agent Shaw laughed. "They do grow up fast, don't they? My daughter's 9 now and it seems like only yesterday that she was crawling."

He and Agent Shaw easily slid into the usual parenting talk, swapping stories about their daughters, until he could almost forget the reason Agent Shaw was here.

But the momentary forgetfulness ended when lunch was over and Beckett excused herself, pleading tiredness, and saying her goodbyes to Agent Shaw then. He watched Beckett as she left the dining room, noting the signs of fatigue in her stride, feeling another stab of worry.

He'd almost forgotten about Agent Shaw in his preoccupation with Beckett and was a little startled when she spoke. "How is she doing, really?"

"It hasn't been easy but Beckett's tough."

"And she's had you. I'm sure that's helped."

"I don't know how much I've done," he demurred rather awkwardly.

Agent Shaw gave him a sidelong, rather knowing smile. "She trusts you, you know."

He glanced sharply at her, the words jolting him, but before he could respond, she went on.

"I can tell. It's in the way she looks at you, reacts to you. So, you and Detective Beckett are a real couple now. After all this time. That's good, I'm glad for you both."

He gave an awkward sort of chuckle. "How can you be so sure it's a good thing?" He left unsaid the fact that they barely knew each other after all.

"I'm pretty good at reading people, Mr. Castle, and I read Heat Wave. I could tell you cared about Beckett and from the way Beckett talked about you last year on the Nikki Heat serial killer case, it was clear that she had unresolved feelings too. Seeing both of you together in the hospital only confirmed it."

He fought the urge to squirm. It was discomfiting to feel as if his innermost feelings had been stripped bare, become transparent to this woman he'd met only once before. He managed a smile. "Well, um, thank you."

Agent Shaw gave a soft laugh. "You and Detective Beckett make a good team. You can tell Beckett I said so." She pushed herself to her feet, her expression and her tone shifting, becoming business-like. "And now, I should get back on the road. I've got work to do." She paused. "And tell Beckett not to worry. We will bring Bracken down."

"I don't doubt it." He meant it. With two such formidable women as Agent Shaw and Beckett willing it to happen, he doubted there was a force on earth that could defeat them.

She nodded. "Thank you for lunch, Mr. Castle."

"Call me Rick," he responded. "Thank you for coming out here and for, well, everything."

She sobered and met his eyes squarely. "You don't have to thank me for that. Bracken is exactly the kind of monster I joined the FBI to put away. I couldn't look my daughter in the eye if I didn't do everything in my power to bring him to justice."

He nodded slowly, conscious again of the surge of affinity, of admiration. She really was very like Beckett. "I understand."

Agent Shaw was, predictably, quick and brisk once she'd decided on a course of action—another way in which she was like Beckett—so it was only a few minutes before she was ready to leave and he saw her to the door.

She shook his hand firmly. "Good seeing you again, Rick. Say goodbye to Detective Beckett for me again."

"Yes, I will, thank you for coming. I guess we'll be hearing from you shortly."

"Yes, tell Beckett I'll keep her posted."

He raised a hand in goodbye as he watched Agent Shaw stride back to her car and drive away. He turned back to the house, wondering how Beckett was doing with the pinch of worry that had become his constant companion these last few days.

But Agent Shaw had said Beckett trusted him, thought he and Beckett made a good team. Absurd to react so strongly to her words but somehow, the vote of confidence from a woman whose perspicacity he had good reason to respect, mattered. Shored up his somewhat shaken belief in his and Beckett's relationship.

He knew Beckett trusted him, cared about him. All he could do was wait and hope that she would remember that she could turn to him for help, for comfort, for anything she needed.

~To be continued…~

A/N 2: Thank you to all readers and reviewers.