She sits on the couch, frozen, as she listens to her watch ticks. She wants so badly to forget, but the memories burn. The guilt eats at her, as she reaches for another drink. She feels herself being sucked right back into that dark, black hole once again. The past tugs at her once again. She places her drink on the surface of the coffee table. It's late, and she's slipped out of his bed to be alone. She wonders how long it will be before he figures out the truth. The truth of the matter is that he probably already knows. She can only wait for him to confront her with the truth. Part of her prays that she never has to have that conversation with him.

She blinks away tears as she sits on the couch wearing his shirt. The apartment is eerily quiet. She finds herself surrounded by a silent room full of the sound of her own thoughts. She looks at the bottle of tequila sitting on the coffee table. She doesn't even like tequila. She is reminded of the last time she drank tequila.

She is sitting at the bar, on a stool. She looks over, and finds an NYPD detective approaching her. He's tall, dark, and handsome. He is well muscled, and has bright green eyes. He smiles widely at her. He is just what she needs to take her mind off the hellacious case she's been working.

"Beckett," he smiles.

"Mahlon. I haven't seen you in a while how is the one six treating you?"

"Took some adjusting to, but I like it."

"So where are your boys?"

He points to a booth nearby, "They started without me. They are already quite intoxicated."

"You'll just have to catch up," she smiles at him.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure."

"Do you drink tequila?"

"Not since college," she admits.

"The fact that you're here tells me that you've had a rough day."

"It's just the case I'm working," she reveals.

"So let's have a few drinks, and take your mind off of it?"

The following morning she wakes up with a splitting headache. She opens her eyes, and finds herself pinned under someone's arm. She rolls over to face him. She finds herself tangled in sheets with her fellow detective. She slides out from underneath his arm, and takes the sheet with her. She collects her clothes, and heads for the door.

"Are you coming back to bed?" he repeats, standing at the end of the couch.

She looks up at him, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to realize that you were somewhere else," Castle admits.

"I think I'm just going to sleep out here."

"Just remember that others have slept on this couch before you, and some not as meticulous about their hygiene."

"I'll be fine."

"How's the tequila?"

"Fine."

"Just fine? Kate you don't drink tequila. What's going on?"

"Castle I don't want to talk about it."

"Now, or ever?"

"I don't want to talk about it ever, really, and I refuse to talk about it now."

"When are we going to talk about it at some point?"

She shrugs, "I don't know."

"In that case I am going to go back to bed."

"Night."

He takes a few steps towards her. He kisses her forehead, "I love you."

She watches him walk away. He closes the bedroom door behind himself. She looks down at her watch. It has stopped. She sighs, and collects the empty glass, and bottle of alcohol off the table. She vacates her seat, and heads into the kitchen.

When she reaches the kitchen she puts the glass in the sink. She puts the bottle back on the shelf where it belongs. She takes off her watch, and places it on the counter. She pulls open a drawer full of miscellaneous items. Inside she locates a small screw driver, and a package of batteries. She returns to the counter, and removes the back off her watch. She pops the battery out, and replaces it.

She stops cold as she looks at the inside of the cover of the back of the watch. Inside the cold silver metal there is a small image. She stares at the picture in silence, for several seconds, unmoving. Her breath hitches, and she proceeds to put the screws through the back of the watch. She returns the screwdriver to the drawer, and the watch to her wrist. She closes the drawer, and leans against the counter. She can't hold off the tears any longer. They begin to fall like rain.

She's on her way home after work. It's been a long day due to her grueling case, and partly due to the fact that she started the day by waking up in a stranger's bed with a hangover. She pulls into a parking space on the street. She looks out her passenger's side window towards the entrance of the bar across the street. She wonders if he's inside. Her nightmare of a case has yet to draw to a close, and she just wants a drink.

The last thing that she wants is an awkward conversation. A conversation where she explains to him that she was only interested in one thing, and it wasn't his brains. She rolls her eyes, and groans as the keys hang in the ignition. Her phone begins to ring. She looks at the number on her screen. It's not a number she recognizes. Realizing that it could be about her case she answers.

"Beckett."

"Kate this is Tony."

It takes her a moment to place him, "Detective Mahlon?"

"Are you still at work?"

"I hope that I didn't give you the wrong impression last night, but I am not looking for a relationship. You are a nice guy, but..."

He cuts her off, "Beckett I am sitting in the bar, at a window. I can see your car parked outside. I was just going to buy you a drink. I'm not looking for a relationship. I am just looking for a drinking buddy."

"What about your other buddies?"

"They are the ones who told me to call you."

"What do you mean?"

"They heard that you could drink a sailor under the table. There are some wagers on the table. They don't think that you are capable of out drinking any of them. What do you say you split the pot with me when you prove them wrong?"

"I don't know about that."

"I'll pay for your drinks. Come on, what better way to forget a shitty day?"