All the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Castle, never will, and certainly have no chance of ever profiting from it.
Quilt
When she opens her door, he says, "This came a few minutes after you left."
She takes the box. "And you were just dying to know what's inside. Come on." She waves him to the couch and opens it, pulling out a crazy patchwork of hearts and frogs, of books and butterflies, and rainbows and rockets.
"It was damaged in the explosion," she says softly. "I had it restored."
"There must be quite a story behind it."
To his surprise, she tells him. He listens quietly, warmed by both the nearness of her body and the glimpse into her past.