First of all – WOW. You guys are freaking amazing. I have been completely and utterly blown away by your wonderful reviews. I just couldn't believe the response I got – and as a reward, here's your new chapter –though I had planned on updating last night. Sadly for you guys, though happily for me, I was invited to go snowboarding instead – sorry! It was too good to pass up.

Now that I've got my fix though!...

Disclaimer – yada, yada, y'all know the drill. If I actually owned them, I'd make a point of keeping Nathan Fillion around at my beck and call….sadly, I don't and I can't. :'(

Chapter 2

Castle didn't know what to do. She was clearly getting worse, and he once again considered bringing her to the hospital. Remembering once when Alexis had been sick with the flu, he gathered the frail shaking body into his arms, rocking back in forth, trying to sooth and comfort the detective. She responded by wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and let herself be rocked back to sleep like a small child. Soon, the shaking lessened, and the sobs quieted, and Castle was quite sure that she had fallen asleep again. He tried to lie her back down, but discovered that her grip around his waist was not one to be reckoned with. Conceding defeat, he laid down with her, and pulled the blankets over both their forms. If she's not better in the morning, I'll bring her to the hospital, he promised himself before falling asleep again with her in his arms.

It was still dark when Castle once again felt himself being pulled from his sleep, his first conscious thought being that his ass, for some reason, was buzzing. The second realisation to creep into his still sleep-addled brain was that there was a very warm body still wrapped around and lying on top of him.

Beckett.

After a few more seconds of complete confusion, he realised that his phone was ringing from his back pocket. Carefully reaching underneath his body, he pulled the phone free of its resting place.

"Hello?"

"Dad? Where are you? I've been worried sick! Why didn't you call? Are you ok? Is Beckett ok? What's going on? Dad?"

"Alexis?" he cut off his daughter's worried barrage of questions, "What time is it?" he mumbled quietly, still trying to get his bearings without waking the sleeping woman in his arms.

"It's three in the morning, Dad!" she continued, her voice having come down only an octave or so, hearing that her dad was, indeed, still alive and well, but still laced with worry and annoyance that he hadn't called her like he usually did when he was going to be very late.

"God, Alexis," he began, finally coming fully awake, "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I must have fallen asleep."

"Are you still at the station?"

"No, I'm at Beckett's."

The enormity of his words didn't hit him until after he spoke them aloud.

The cautious excitement in his daughter's voice, however, did not escape him. "Why are you at Detective Beckett's place?"

"It's not what you think, honey. She's really sick and I took her home, but I didn't feel right leaving her here alone. I'm so sorry that I didn't call, I guess I was a little distracted and – "

"Is she ok?" his daughter's now worried voice cut him off.

Not wanting Alexis to worry anymore than he had already caused her to, he quickly reassured her that he was sure it was just a bout of the flu and that Beckett would be just fine a couple of days. Satisfied by his answer, Alexis assured her dad that he should stay with Beckett and make sure she got better. Yawning, she hung up with his promise to call her with an update the next day.

After hanging up with Alexis, Castle took stock of the detective, who was thankfully still sleeping in his arms. What he saw, however, did little to reassure him. Her face was flush and her hair was plastered to her head with sweat. Her body against his was burning hot, and for the first time, he realised that they were both soaking wet. Despite his words of assurance to his daughter, at that moment, he found himself extremely concerned.

With his phone still in his hand, he decided that it was time to get a second opinion.

"Hmellow?"

The sleepy voice that answered reminded him that it was still quite late – or really early, depending on your outlook.

"Hi, Dr. Parish? It's Castle," he began quietly, trying not to wake Beckett.

"Castle?" she exclaimed, her voice now completely alert at the unexpected voice on the other end of the line. "Why are you calling me at….3 AM?"

"It's Beckett, she's sick and I'm not sure what to do," he cut her off.

Squelching her annoyance and becoming concerned, Lanie had him describe all of her symptoms before assuring him that it sounded as though Beckett had a bad bout of the flu. After instructing him to get her fever down and keeping her rested and hydrated, she promised him that she would be by in the morning to check on both of them.

"Both of us? But she's the one who's sick!" he asked, confused.

"Yeah, and now you've been exposed," she stated flately, "I'll come by in the morning with food and some drugs, but for the time being, I'm glad that you're there with her."

"Lanie?" he asked tentatively.

"Yeah, Castle?"

"Thanks."

Having hung up with the medical examiner, and feeling a modicum of relief, Castle was now faced with the task at hand. He knew he couldn't leave her in her sweat soaked clothing and sheets, but he was truly loathe to wake her up, knowing that she needed her rest. Feeling her forehead though, he realised that he needed to get some Tylenol into her system at the very least, to get her temperature down. And for that, she needed to be awake anyways.

Shaking her shoulders gently, he whispered her name and was relieved when she opened her eyes, staring at him groggily, though he could still see the glaze of her illness.

"Castle?" she croaked out confused.

"Hey there," he started softly, "how are you feeling?"

Unlocking her arms from their death grip around his waist for the first time, she tried to raise her hands to her face to rub at her eyes while trying to get her bearings, but found the effort to be too much and just let them drop back down unto the bed.

"Like death," she ground out softly, shivering slightly now that she was no longer attached to the warm body in her bed.

"I think you have the flu," he explained to her, "we need to get some medicine into you for the fever and we need to change your clothes and the sheets. You can't sleep in here like this."

He heard her groan something, but couldn't make out the words as a sudden cough seized her system causing her to sit up quickly from the force of the hacking. Worried, though seizing the opportunity, Castle sat up with her, rubbing her back gently through the coughing fit. Once it abated, he got up from the bed, and, coming around to her side, scooped her up and brought her to the living room.

"Put me down, Castle," she muttered, though her words lacked their usual force. He set her down on the couch, wrapping the throw that adorned the back of it around her now shivering body.

"I'm going to get you some water and some Tylenol, and then I'm going to change your sheets, but first –" he turned on his foot and went back into the bedroom for a new oversized t-shirt, "do you think you can change into this while I do that?"

"I'm not a child, Castle," she protested weakly, "I can dress myself, you know."

He smiled a little, glad to see her stubbornness alive and well, even if severely weakened by her illness. That she had yet to comment on his presence or asked him to leave, however, surprised him. That said, he wasn't going to bring it up if she didn't.

Seeing her start to struggle out of her soaked t-shirt, he went to the kitchen to get the required supplies and to give her some privacy. He was glad to see when he got back that she had managed to get into the dryer clothes, though the effort had seemed to have exhausted her completely and she appeared to be asleep again on the couch.

"Kate," he spoke softly, touching her shoulder, her eyes opening again, "here, you have to take these."

After she complied, drinking the whole glass of water and closing her eyes again, Castle returned to the bedroom to set about changing the sheets. That done, he returned to the living room, picked up the sleeping detective and returned her to her now dry bed.

Feeling achy and tired himself, Castle turned to go and bunk down on the couch that he had just liberated her from when he felt a hot, dry hand clutch his own.

"Stay."

That one word was all he needed.

Since I'm terrible at replying to reviews, I'll try and address some of your questions here :)

Beckett NYPD: lol – done and done. :)

Bella Paige: I likely won't have that written into the story for a couple of reasons – some of them are primarily dramatic – another is b/c I've never actually been in the hospital and have no idea how it works or what it's like – and I don't want to write something that I don't know anything about :)

slightlyobsessedHaylz: I'm glad you thought it felt authentic! I have some very good (or bad, depending on how you look at it) personal experience with the flu!

Youdude: first – you made me laugh and you're right – 24 (now 27) reviews definitely means I owe you all a new chapter! And it's true – we do tend to make Beckett the one who's sick…or in general, the woman – I think part of it (though it flies in the face of feminism) is that we still like that old 'knight in white armour' bit on some level– also – I'm writing it this way, I think, b/c I'm a woman and not-so-secretly would LOVE my own personal Castle to take care of me when I'm sick….to quote a recent episode…it's all very meta :p

Thank you all again for your wonderful reviews! Chapter 3 is already in the works so keep 'em coming! =)