AN: I'm having a lot of fun writing this story. If you guys are having half as much fun reading it then I'm a happy girl. Now, serious question – would you like the typical Castle admitting his secret investigating cue-fight-scene storyline at some point? Or perhaps Castle admitting his secret without fight scene? Or are you cool with pretending Castle's secret totally isn't relevant to his developing relationship with Beckett/this story? Personally, I can imagine all the options… Suggestions are invaluable! To my reviewers, you manage to make me plaster a silly grin across my face that lasts for hours; I love it, keep it coming and thank you. Special thanks to White Pawn, because seriously, wow! You manage to blow me away every time you review. Apologies to all for the rather long intro – if you haven't picked up on it, I have the tendency to be a bit of a rambler… Anyway, carry on…

Chapter Twenty

"That's not possible," she breathily drew out.

Castle ripped his hand from Tessa's and spun to face Beckett, already on his feet moving towards her before Tessa had the chance to process her now empty hands.

"Who is he, Beckett? We'll get him," Castle growled, his arms on Beckett's shoulders, forcing her to look at him. As he waited for her to respond he almost shook her, impatient to know what exactly they were up against. He gazed at her forcefully, registering her pale, shock-infused expression. "Talk to me, Kate," he pleaded gently, running his hands up and down her arms. "Whatever it is, we can handle it – together," he breathed the last word, his tone a strange mixture of reassurance and fear. Tessa processed the events in the room faster than Beckett. She was staring at her empty hands incredulously.

"Honey? Come back," she gasped, clearly confused by the turn of events. She had expected things to work out with Castle now that he had begun treating her properly, like a husband ought to treat his wife. But there he was, touching that stupid detective. Castle ignored her, his focus entirely on Beckett. Tessa's usefulness in the investigation had expired, he had no further obligation to give her an ounce of his attention – not that he had ever wanted to in the first place.

Tessa's words reached Beckett, however, and brought her back into the present. She gently brushed Castle's jaw with her fingertips and looked around him, her eyes boring into Tessa's.

"I told you he was mine," she smiled, her tone deadly serious. She brushed his jaw again and Castle captured her fingers before they had the chance to leave his face and brought them to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on each of her fingertips.

"All yours," he readily admitted, Tessa's presence already forgotten. He promptly was reminded of it though, as she lunged at them with a guttural scream. Beckett flung Castle from her path and caught the other woman's hands swiftly before pushing her to the ground.

"Espo. Ryan," she grunted. "Can you deal with this. We're done. I've got to fill Castle in on Dunnings." Before she had finished speaking the boys were in the room, cuffing Tessa once again and successfully restraining her. As they pulled her from the room, Beckett threw out a brief, "Enjoy prison," and hoped she'd never see the woman again (her trial withstanding).

"Dunnings…" Castle prompted, his tone puzzled.

"It's not possible," Beckett repeated her earlier admission. "C'mon, walk and talk, I need to get to my desk." Castle simply nodded and extended his hand to her. She hesitated for a moment, concerned about the need to remain professional at work. She could see how desperately he needed this though, the small gesture of hope to tide him over until they could really talk. The past couple of days had been trying on him – on the both of them – to say the least. She clasped his outstretched hand and allowed him to lead her to her desk as she poured out the story of Peter Dunnings. "Dunnings is not a good guy," she started with a sigh. "We suspected him of a bunch of minor crimes over the years but no conviction ever stuck. Finally we, well really I, arrested him for murder and not just one person. He was given a life sentence. There is no way on earth it could actually be him," she mused. "Surely it has to be someone connected to him though, it can't just be a coincidence. How many Peter Dunnings can there be in the world?" Castle shrugged.

"I'm sure we could Google it," he hesitantly threw out. Beckett responded with her penchant death stare, the one she reserved just for him.

"Hypothetical question, Castle. There's only one Peter Dunnings with a grudge against me," she grimaced. She hadn't liked dealing with Dunnings. She had been glad when the conviction had come through, that was a man who did not deserve to return to society at any time in his life. A monster was a more befitting term than man. Castle took in her grim expression and rubbed gentle circles on her hand with his thumb. Her lips turned upward slightly at the gesture. She reached her desk and gently dropped his hand, moving to her computer and tapping away wildly on the keyboard. Castle took his usual seat beside her desk and she grinned at him with her eyes, her lips pursed slightly. The normalcy of him being there helped to dull the fear of whatever Dunnings had planned for her. Obviously he was powerful if he had managed to persuade Tessa to act out her delusions. That took some serious forethought.

"Boss, what's our next move?" Esposito called across the bullpen, signalling the boys return to the room.

"I remember Dunnings," Ryan added as they joined Beckett and Castle. "He was nasty." His comment was met with a wave of nods from the group. Beckett extended her hand, a casual request for silence.

"Listen. Records confirm that Dunnings is still in jail. So he most definitely cannot be acting alone. Castle and I will head down to the prison and see what visitors Dunnings has been getting lately. Can you guys check the prison phone records from Dunnings block, see anything pops." She rose from her chair, spinning to grab her jacket from behind her. Before she'd had the chance pull it on, Castle was gently drawing it from her fingers, holding it open for her to step into. She rolled her eyes at him a little, but acquiesced. She didn't regret allowing him the movement as the brush of his fingers through her jacket sent electricity curling to the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip to suppress the contented sigh that threatened to escape. He chanced a brush of her collarbone as he retracted his fingers and found her shiver slightly from the touch. He gave a little half-grin in response, before starting towards the elevator, with her hot on his heels. Or more like, hot in her heels he thought with a smirk.

As they rode the elevator together the atmosphere was a convoluted mix of palpable tension and utter contentment at having Castle home and safe. They leaned against the back wall, shoulders flush against one another. Neither seemed anxious to break the silence although they were both acutely aware that much needed to be said. Riding cosily in an elevator with Castle was almost enough to make Beckett forget about the danger still at hand. Naturally, she hadn't forgotten at all – Castle was at risk, after all – but having him there, tucked beside her, it was easy to pretend that everything was back to normal. Better than normal, she mused, as his breathing caused his shoulder to move against hers, sending butterflies spiralling madly rising from her stomach to her throat, resulting in her breath hitching momentarily in response. The silence lingered as they made their way to the cruiser, both revealing in the shared quiet moment. A break from the stress of the past couple days.

Castle was first to break the silence as Beckett slowly manoeuvred the car into the typical city traffic that had increased exponentially since she had driven to the precinct that morning. It seemed like this was going to be a fairly slow trip, and she was tempted to use the siren but Castle's voice cut through her frustration so she turned her attention to him.

"So, I still haven't told you my favourite part about being held captive by a madwoman," he smiled softly, his tone held a semblance of jest but his eyes were serious.

"You've got to be kidding me, Castle," Beckett shot back dryly. "You have a favourite part?" She asked incredulously, eyebrows raised.

"Apart from you rescuing me, yeah," he replied with a shrug.

"You do remember what you were wearing, right?" She smirked, meeting his eyes. They sparkled gently at her tone.

"Beckett," he groaned dramatically. "So not what I want to dwell on." She shrugged, her lips rising in a cheeky grin.

"You totally pulled it off, Castle. So cute," she teased.

"You think I'm cute," he gasped in mock surprise. She bit her lip, shaking her head gently, he frowned in response. "Tease," he muttered. She grinned brightly.

"Aren't you telling me about your favourite moment of being kidnapped by, perhaps, one of the craziest woman I've ever had the displeasure of sharing an interrogation room with?" she pressed.

"Oh yeah," he softened instantly, sincerity ringing in his every word. "I got to listen to a phone message that literally took my breath away." Beckett's immediate response was a sharp intake of breath. Castle hesitantly dropped his gaze, giving her a moment to process.

"You heard that? I didn't think you would…" she broke away, gazing at him to find his eyes averted to the floor of the car. She summoned her courage. It seemed like it was easier to chase down an armed suspect then to be honest with Castle at times. "I'm glad you heard it, Castle," she added, her voice strong. "I meant every word."

Castle couldn't contain his grin. If she hadn't been driving a car he would have pulled her into his arms in that instant. He settled for beaming at her like a crazy love-struck teenager. He didn't even try to mask the affection that he knew was spilling from his eyes. She caught his gaze and her face blossomed into a mirroring smile. It was the single most beautiful thing Castle had ever seen. It knocked the breath right out of him, but he didn't even seem to sense it, he was too caught in the moment – in her utter perfection. He still hadn't heard her mutter a return, I love you too, but it didn't matter, this was most definitely enough for now. Progress was still progress and this felt like a pivotal move in the right direction. If he died now he would die a serenely happy man.

"I thought you would be mad," she admitted hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "That I lied about remembering what you said to me in the cemetery."