AN: Okay guys, this really is the last chapter before I'm without the internet for a couple of days. I might get the chance to use it at uni tomorrow, but it really depends if I've done anything on the story before then – which may not be all that likely. I apologise in advance for the delay. I really appreciate everyone who's added this story to their alerts/favourites – thank you all for reading! Please take the time to review.

Chapter Five

The likelihood of that fantasy was slipping further from his hands with each moment he spent captive at the power of this madwoman.

The madwoman was carefully extracting a container of spaghetti from the picnic basket on her lap. She returned the basket to the floor and opened the container, enthusiastically – and somewhat savagely in Castle's opinion – stabbing a chunk, before holding it up to Castle.

"Here comes the aeroplane," she crooned. Castle briefly considered the likelihood of it being poisoned before he opened his mouth and accepted it. He mentally rolled his eyes, Beckett style. The only thing it was likely to be poisoned with was Viagra, this whole experience was insane. He would never joke about being ruggedly handsome again, apparently, it wasn't to his advantage. Not the asset he once thought it was, if this brief – he hoped – stint in captivity taught him anything, it was that for sure. Whilst he'd been lost in thought the madwoman had loaded another forkful of spaghetti was thrusting it gracelessly towards him. If it had been Beckett, she would have made it sexy, at the thought of Beckett feeding him a romantic meal his stomach fluttered. If only she had agreed to dinner tonight, he could be there with her now, sensually feeding one another. That would be the heaven to the hell he was currently in. Then again, that would be his idea of heaven under any circumstance. After this little stint in captivity was over he'd have to work a lot harder at making fantasy a reality, the sheer number of fantasies that he had these days were making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on reality. Of course, they were all about Beckett, long gone were the days when another woman even came close to entering his mind. It was reserved for her, and her alone (as was his heart, his body, his bed, him – it was all for her, whenever she chose to collect it). He struggled back into the present, pulling his mind away from his detective and back to slow chewing the mush in his mouth.

"Er," he cleared his throat before continuing. "Did you make this?" He tried to plaster on another fake grin, he hoped it didn't look as insincere as it felt.

"Yes, sweetie," she blushed. "Do you like it? I made it just for you?" He nodded. When he got home he was going to have to get his mother to give him some acting lessons, he didn't think he was being all that convincing, but she beamed in response so he tried to push his luck.

"Is there any chance I could use the bathroom? I'm busting," he admitted somewhat sullenly. He wasn't really in dire need for a toilet but it couldn't hurt to re-examine his escape options. She frowned slightly in response, and cocked her head, apparently thinking, gauging the level of trust that existed in their "relationship". She shook her head ardently.

"After dessert," she asserted. "I have a special romantic dinner planned and I don't want any interruptions," she hissed. Oh god, she was positively unstable Castle concluded – not that it wasn't already evident from this whole situation.

"Oh okay. That sounds nice," his smile was more of a grimace. "What's for dessert?"

"You mean other than me?" she purred and Castle was tempted to bring up the contents of his stomach. He struggled against the sensation, before he continued, surprised his voice was steady under the circumstances. He decided to ignore her suggestion somewhat.

"Did you bake? You seem like you'd be a good baker? He replied glibly. In a way she did, apart from the insanity, she had the temperament of a woman Castle could see being content simply spending the days baking and caring for her family. The insanity was a pretty daunting character flaw though.

"Oh sweetheart, of course I baked for you. But first, I have a fortune cookie for you. Would you like me to read you your fortune?" Castle really didn't, but saying no to this woman wasn't an option he currently had.

"Of course," he flashed a winning Richard Castle grin, the one he reserved for public events, only those who knew him could see the missing spark of genuineness. With that she reached for the picnic basket and withdrew an oversized fortune cookie.

"I'm excited to know what the future holds for us, baby," she said with a breathy chuckle. She cracked the cookie in half and extracted the scrap of paper. "It says…" she paused for dramatic effect. Castle tried to school his expression into excitement. "…that a new love will bring renewed happiness and a bright future." She smirked. "It's like it was written about us, how perfect is that!"

"Perfect," Castle echoed hollowly. At that she beamed.

"Oh look, there's another cookie in that basket, it must be for me, I wonder what it says!" She fished out the second cookie, cracked it open slowly and broke into the biggest grin Castle had seen so far. "Baby," she breathed. "This is so romantic, yes, oh yes!" With that she pulled a cheesy engagement ring and a fortune with the words, Marry Me scrawled across it. "I mean I was hinting at it before when I slipped and called you my fiancé, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect you to propose tonight, it's just so magical!" She was ecstatic, smile stretched from cheek-to-cheek, eyes glowing. Castle didn't know what to say, she seemed so satisfied with this delusion, he was worried if he said the wrong thing it would jolt her back to reality and she would lash out at him. In this delusion he was safe, at least physically, for now.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Martha placed her phone back into her handbag with a sigh. Kate barely managed to stop her sigh of relief; at least Castle wasn't just ignoring her. She promptly admonished herself – that probably meant he was in actual danger and that was never a good thing. Meanwhile Martha was facing a serious internal debate, she knew that Richard had still been investigating Kate's mother's death, but if she said anything to the detective, it could compromise their relationship and Richard would be furious. But what if he was in real danger? Perhaps she should wait to see if it appeared to be connected, then she would show Beckett everything. In the end, her son's life was worth more than his happiness, wasn't it? She wasn't so sure.

Beckett glanced across to Martha who looked conflicted. She found it odd for the usually so flamboyantly confident woman. She knew she had to find Castle or this family would fall apart – and, in that instead she knew that she counted herself as part of the family. He had wormed his way into her life over the past four years and it appeared she was inherently lodged in his as well. The worried women before her were her family and they had to find the man who held them all together before it was too late. Beckett bit her bottom lip, hard. She tasted blood, but the pain jolted her out of her thoughts and into the present.

"Right, so we've looked round the loft. It doesn't look like he's been here since the precinct. Alexis, do you want to double check his bedroom?" The girl nodded, as she reached the entryway to his room, she threw over her shoulder –

"Beckett. Can you come? I don't want to miss anything. Plus, I don't really remember what he had on when he left for the precinct," she seemed slightly hesitant in her request, but Beckett had no scruples acceding to it. That was, until she entered his room, his sanctuary. Beckett had always expected to be more naked the first time she crossed the threshold to his room. She had also anticipated it would be with his lips glued to hers and his hands moving hungrily across her body. However, as she stepped into his room with his teenage daughter was so not the time to be bringing that up. She took in the room and was kind of relieved to find that she liked it, she almost giggled at the thought. Castle would be glad to hear that. She could mess with him in that flirty way of hers and bring it up sometime soon. It would make for a special of their moments, a joke wrapped in truth complete with raised eyebrows and sexual innuendos.

"So, notice anything, Alexis?" she asked the girl beside her who shrugged then shook her head. "Me neither," Beckett sighed. "I'll call the boys," she frowned. "Crap, I should've done that straight away. I'm sorry Alexis." The girl shook her head once again.

"You were worried, I get it. Are you going to go to the station? Can I come with you? Please," her voice grew smaller with each word. In front of her Beckett saw the vulnerable daughter, a little girl lost, not the ferocious young woman who had confronted her outside the bank on the day of the hostage situation. She wasn't angry with Beckett for this, which confused Beckett somewhat. She had sort of been expecting Alexis to slip into that angry façade where she appeared to blame Beckett for every risky situation that her father encountered. To be fair enough, Beckett thought it a valid point, she was every bit – if not more – responsible for the trouble that Castle found himself in. Beckett found herself nodding, pointedly.

"Of course, Alexis. Can't hurt to have a Castle in on the investigation, it's worked well in the past," her lame attempt at a joke fell flat, although Alexis lips turned up ever so slightly. Beckett sighed once more, it was going to be a long night. She desperately hoped that Castle would just spring through the door with a stupid excuse about meeting a fascinating stranger, or finding a new toy shop and losing track of time – anything. He would be greeted by three mad women whose anger would melt away instantaneously at having his infectious energy back in their presence. The evening would be salvaged, and life would go on. That was definitely the best case scenario. But the door didn't burst open and the women in the house didn't light up with relieved smiles.