A/N: I rewrote the last chapter shortly after posting it when I reader pointed out a continuity error (oops!). If you read the initial version where they are freaking out about Gates finding out about their engagement you might want to go back and reread the second half of the last chapter. If not, just be aware that there were some changes.

"I don't know, Javi." Ryan pushed his chair back from the desk and spun around to face his partner. "Jenny is pretty dead set on picking her cousin."

Esposito's face crumpled up—a look that was part disgust and part shock. "What? That scrawny, bow-tie wearing dude. Fuzzy red hair. Glasses so thick they make him look like he's ready to do some welding at a moment's notice. Showed up to her Birthday last year with his own gluten-free, sugar-free, dairy-free, cake-free cake. Talked about his pet hamsters ALL night. That is the guy you want to be the godfather of baby Ryan?"

Ryan slumped over in his chair. "To his defense he does work at a pet store. So…" He tried to come up with some excuse that made talking about hamsters for two hours socially acceptable.

"So nothing. All I'm saying is your kid has two potential futures. Future A," he held his hand out palm up like he was showing off the newly revealed prize behind curtain number one. "Baby Ryan grows up with a rodent for a best friend, breaks out in hives every time he tries to talk to a girl, and counts joining the bumper-bowling singles league as both playing a sport and playing the field."

"You do realize the designated godparent will only get custody if both Jenny and I die, right?"

Esposito ignored his question. "And then there's future B." He held out his other hand, bobbing them up and down like he was balancing a scale. "Star quarter back in high school. Graduates magna cum something or other from college. Goes on to become a decorated war veteran and ten years down the road—BAM, "he clapped his hands together startling Ryan, "the White House. But let's not forget baby Ryan will also have a way with the ladies…or dudes. Whatever floats his boat."

Ryan looked amused. "And where do you suppose he is going to get this smooth-talking way with the ladies from? Because last time I checked you and the ladies, or should I say Lanies, were not hitting it off." He intentionally used Lanie's name to see what kind of reaction he could get. He knew Esposito liked heart-to-heart, emotional talks as much as he enjoyed getting punched in the face, so he hoped the humorous, back-door approach would get his friend talking.

Esposito pushed his chair back and stood up. "Bro," his voice dead serious, "I've got so much game going on that you just can't keep up with the plays."

"Ooh, ooh. What are we playing? Can I get in on it?" Castle plopped down in Esposito's chair and spun it around in a circle—a little kid delighting in a ride on his personal merry-go-round. He stomped his feet down stopping the circular motion, his eyes loosing focus until the world around him stopped spinning.

"We're playing Life." Esposito answered. Castle scanned the desktops, confused by the absence of a board. Esposito continued, his voice deepening. He sounded like the voice over for an action movie trailer. "Life. Two potential futures. Two potential doors to walk through. Choose the wrong one and—"

"Okay, okay. I get it," Ryan said. What he really got was how desperately Esposito was trying to deflect his subtle probing into his personal life. He turned to Castle, "Javi here is trying to convince me of his merits as the godfather to baby Ryan. Jenny wants to pick her cousin."

"The hamster man," Esposito exclaimed.

"Wait, the I tuck my hamsters in at night and sing them lullabies hamster man?" Castle sported the same shocked look Esposito had earlier.

Esposito emphatically pointed his finger, looking more like a teenage girl dishing some gossip than an adult homicide detective. "Exactly."

"Well I can solve that problem for you," Castle said. "Bypass hamster man and Esposito and make me the godfather. In case you didn't know I'm great with kids."

"Notice he didn't say babies," Beckett pointed out, walking into their huddle carrying two hot cups of coffee from the break room. She handed one to Castle and propped herself against Ryan's desk.

"May I remind you who was on diaper duty the entire time we watched baby Cosmo."

"Yea I think it was mostly your mom and Alexis," Beckett teased. She knew he changed more than his fair share of diapers but couldn't pass up the opportunity to press Castle's buttons. It was too enjoyable watching the indignation fill his voice as he presented a multi-tiered argument opposing her point. The best part being when he finally realized she was only giving him a hard time and his passionate argument slowly trailed off.

Castle didn't disappoint. "What! My mother? Alexis? They watched him for all of a couple hours. I had him with me all day while you and the boys worked the case. Changed my first diaper in the Babies R' Us bathroom." He held up his index finger. "Then there was the one I changed in the back of the cruiser." Another finger went up. "Then the one I changed when we arrived back at the station." Three fingers. "Then—"

Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito held back their laughter for as long as possible, but Castle's incredible recall for every diaper he changed had them rolling before he could get all five fingers up.

"What?" Castle asked. Esposito good-naturedly patted him on the shoulder. "I really did change a diaper when…we…got…"

"That was too easy," Beckett said in between laughs.

"Yea Castle, we get it. You're king of the diapers." Ryan added.

"Hey man, new nickname?" suggested Esposito. "The Diaper King. I think it suits you." He turned to Ryan before adding, "So now your choices are Hamster Man, the Diaper King, or me. Choose wisely." He returned to balancing imaginary scales on his palms.

"Speaking of making choices." It was a weak segue but Ryan didn't want to miss his window of opportunity before Beckett switched into work mode. He pulled open a drawer in his desk and whipped out the Page Six headline. "When did you guys decide to go public?" He tossed the spread on the desk and Beckett found herself looking at the same images from yesterday.

The expression on her face told him all he needed to know.

"Well at least they got some nice pictures," Esposito said feebly. He picked up the paper and pointed at a shot from a crime scene a couple weeks back. "I'm particularly fond of this one." He lifted the paper up to his face the way he might hold a mug shot up to a suspect for a comparison. "Notice the handsome man in the background?" He cracked a cheesy grin.

Beckett grabbed the paper from him and slid it back into the drawer. "So where are we on the investigation?"

Ryan seamlessly shifted into detective-mode, sensing this was not the time to push Beckett, and answered her question. "Lanie called to confirm time and cause of death. Her analysis places the murder at just after 1AM, meaning she was killed shortly after leaving the club. COD was from the champagne bottle as we suspected. Small fragments of matching glass were lodged inside her skull and the fracture patterns are a match. She'll call later with the toxicology report."

Esposito took over the briefing. "So here's something much more interesting. That call Caitlyn got right before she left the club. It came from somewhere inside Daniel Henry's penthouse. Problem is, there were about a dozen people on the premises at the time—cleaning staff, a lone butler, some friends crashing from out of town, and of course," he gestured over at the murder board, "Daniel's girlfriend Samantha Roberts who was home sick at the time."

Beckett thought for a minute, planning out her strategy of attack. "Javi, you and Ryan head over to Daniel's penthouse. Interview both Samantha and Daniel's other girlfriend Jennifer, and then talk to anyone else who was home at the time that call was made. I want to know who made it and what it was about. Castle and I are going to stay here and talk to Daniel when he shows up, which should be," she looked down at her watch, "any minute now."

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened and Daniel Henry walked out. Despite his undoubtedly late night, he looked like a man who had just arrived home from a week at the spa. The harsh lights of the precinct that made even the most attractive look a little weathered, somehow made him look even younger and more vibrant. Catching Beckett's eye, Daniel waved from across the room, flashing a grin. Beckett had to muster all her reserve will power to act professional and not roll her eyes at the display. She nodded to Ryan and Esposito who took off toward the elevator, giving Daniel a once-over as they passed.

Imagining small talk would be like listening to nails on a chalk board, Beckett wasted no time directing him to take a seat in the interrogation room before joining Castle behind the two-way mirror. As eager as she was to get this over with, her instincts told her that she would get more information out of him if she made him wait. As a man who was accustomed to giving orders and making demands, she needed this moment to remind him who was running the show.

"So how does it feel to be reunited with your old friend?" Beckett asked, watching Daniel through the glass. From the few words the men had exchanged at the club she got the feeling Castle and Daniel shared an interesting history, but since he hadn't been very forth coming with an explanation, she hadn't pushed.

Castle stared vacantly at the glass, his focus on his own reflection and not the man sitting on the other side. Her question couldn't be more on target, but not in the way he guessed she intended. Looking back at him he saw the Richard Castle from his younger days—the reckless, egotistical, shallow man who got high off of pulling careless pranks and sleeping around—his daughter serving as his only anchor to normalcy and a responsible adult life. He had since learned to look forgivingly, even nostalgically, at that juncture in his life, but having a very real reminder sitting before him still didn't feel good.

"Castle are you okay?" Beckett could see the inner turmoil darkening his features.

Castle knew Beckett was well-versed in his history. He knew she was beyond judging him for it. But watching the way her face registered disgust, if only for a second, when she spotted Daniel across the bull pen made him feel a level of remorse that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. "Yea, I'm fine," he mustered. "Just feels strange seeing someone from your past after this long." He didn't tell her that the person he was referring to was himself.

"You can sit this one out if you want," she offered.

Castle thought about it for a moment. "No, if you're done running from your past then so am I." With that he pushed into the interrogation room, leaving little opportunity for Beckett to ask him what he meant.

Upon entering the room, Beckett watched as Daniel momentarily tensed up and then, like an actor donning a character for a play, relaxed back into the chair. It was clear that getting any useful information from him wasn't going to be easy, but his small lapse in character told her all she needed to know. Daniel was anxious, and anxious men eventually talked.

Beckett knew she needed to walk a fine line between expressing sympathy for his loss—even though it didn't seem he viewed Caitlyn's death that way—and asking the tough questions. But before she could get a word out, Daniel took control of the conversation, his smooth-talking playboy veneer taking center stage.

"Ricky. Kate. So sorry you two had to leave early last night. Man the stories I could have told you about this one." He gestured toward Castle as they took their places across the table. Thankfully Castle didn't fuel the fire with a response.

"Mr. Henry, thank you for coming in this morning," Beckett said.

"Really, honey. You gotta break out the tough lady cop routine already? Whatever happened to common courtesy and etiquette? You know, a little chit-chatting, flirting, some pleasantries among old friends." His rebuke was saccharine, bordering on sleazy. The way he drew out certain words. The way his voice inflected upwards at the end of each sentence like he was asking a question. Beckett wondered if the man could say anything without it sounding disingenuous—or ironic.

"Mr. Henry," she began again, this time all pleasantness gone from her voice, "common courtesy went out the window the moment your girlfriend was murdered. We can sit here and talk about the old days, swap stories, but I'm much more interested in finding out what happened to Caitlyn. I'm hoping you are too."

Daniel leaned back in his chair and laughed, "Rick you sure do know how to pick em'."

Beckett could feel her blood beginning to boil—her urge to flip the table over and shock him into submission rising by the second. But instead of letting her emotions fly off the handle, she barreled forward, taking another approach.

"Okay listen. This can go two different ways. Either you cut the bullshit," she purposefully used her sweetest voice, hoping it would grate on his nerves, "and answer my questions or I let everyone know just how uncooperative you are. What do you think will happen when the media gets wind that Mr. Daniel Henry is purposefully interfering with an investigation? I know they say when you're famous any attention is good attention, but getting named as a possible murder suspect—maybe not."

The smile on Daniel's face gave way to anger. "What are you trying to say? You know that would be slander if you said any such thing, and I could have your badge revoked."

Beckett leaned in, "All I said I would say is that you are uncooperative, which up to this point has been true." She dropped her voice to a whisper and innocently said, "I can't help what ends up as the Page Six headline. I think that much has been made abundantly clear."

Castle could feel the mood in the room shift and decided to use it as his opening into the conversation—to call on his former friendship to crack through the façade. Even though he and Beckett rarely entered an interrogation with a game plan, they always seemed to fall into sync, dancing around the questions to a tempo only they could hear. The execution was often so flawless it was as if it were scripted.

"Daniel, please. We just need to ask you a few questions," Castle gently pushed, asking not as the guy assisting the NYC police in a murder investigation but as the guy who at one time was willing to fly off to Miami at a moment's notice.

Daniel's face softened and silence settled into the room. Castle and Beckett sat in the stillness, knowing it could wear down Daniel's resolve faster than any more persuasive arguments from them. With a long, exaggerated sigh, Daniel leaned over the table, his head resting in his hands, and for a brief moment Beckett saw beyond the playboy personality.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, pushing himself back to a upright position.

Castle took the lead, asking him about his relationship with Caitlyn, her role within their unique business arrangement, and anything that set off red flags recently.

"Look," Daniel said about twenty minutes into their conversation, "despite our rough start I really do wish I could be more helpful. But like I've said, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary going on. I've got a business to run, I don't have time to meddle in the girls' petty arguments."

"So there was tension between them then?" Beckett asked, wishing he would have mentioned this fact when they first discussed conflicts among his girlfriends.

"Well yea, I suppose. I walked in on Caitlyn and Samantha arguing about a week ago. Don't know about what. Didn't care at the time. Probably nothing a little slumber party pillow fight couldn't fix though." He winked at Beckett who shot him a look.

"Mr. Henry." It was all she had to say to get him back on track.

"I would talk to Samantha if you want to know more."

Beckett and Castle pushed up from the table in unison. "Well thank you for your time, Mr. Henry. We'll get in touch with you if we need anything else." She extended her hand, offering him a professional courtesy he hadn't earned.

"Hey Rick. Jet's still fueled up, should you ever change your mind about Miami." He smiled, but it lacked the luster and arrogance that the man walking into the room carried. He sounded defeated.

Castle glanced at Beckett and was flooded with a feeling that the Rick of his younger days never knew—complete and total satisfaction. He didn't need Miami. He didn't need a distraction. He just needed her. Because nothing made him want to live life in the present more than living a life with Kate. Castle patted Daniel on the back as he headed toward the elevator. "Sorry, my answer is still no."

"Your loss."

Castle swiveled toward Beckett as Daniel disappeared behind the closing doors. "I'd say it's my gain." He smiled at her, feeling the regrets from his past descending down the elevator with Daniel.

"How about our gain?" She grabbed his hand, softly running her thumb over his before continuing. "Castle I know you two have a complicated history."

"Not really complicated," he said, "more like wild and reckless. And it's not something I'm particularly proud of."

"Castle do you know one of the reasons I fell in love with you?" She waited for his snarky remark about his ruggedly handsome appearance or charming wit but Castle stood there, silent, waiting for her reason. "It was because of your ability to evolve." She could tell by the expression on his face he needed more of an explanation. "So much of my life has been spent fixated on the past—on spinning my wheels but getting nowhere. And then I met you. You pushed me. You challenged me. You infuriated me at times. You were a shoulder to cry on, a punching bag when I was angry, and someone to let loose and have fun with when I needed to unwind. You have this ability to adapt—to morph into the person I've needed at just the right moment—even when I've been too blind to see it. Daniel Henry, he's one-dimensional; what you see is what you get. But you, Castle, everyday I see new facets to your personality that make me love you more than I ever imagined I could love anyone."

Castle felt is chest grow heavy, the urge to lunge forward and kiss her in the middle of the bull pen kept in check only by the silhouette of Captain Gates behind her office blinds. He was amazed that the woman standing before him, speaking so freely without a tinge of sarcasm, was the same woman that took years to admit her feelings. He smiled, a shy, boyish grin and then led them back to her desk, letting the moment pass.

"I need to make a call to Ryan and Esposito—give them a heads-up on the argument between the girls." Beckett picked up her phone leaving Castle to stare at the murder board. He picked up a red sharpie, drew a line between Samantha and Caitlyn's pictures, and in large block letters wrote TENSION. He hoped Ryan and Esposito would uncover more useful information than they had.

Castle shifted his attention back to Beckett who was still on the phone, the cord fidgeting between her fingers. Instead of talking though, she was listening with rapt attention. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she wrote something down on a pad of paper before hanging up.

"Did the guys already come up with something," he asked.

"Even better. That was Lanie. The toxicology report came back and it looks like we might have another motive for our murder." She held up the pad of paper and Castle read the single word she had written down—COCAINE.