Author's note: Sorry about the wait on this, I had double shifts the last couple of days and no time to write!

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Rather than be underfoot while she cooked, Castle wandered into the living room, looking around – although he'd been there often enough that the place wasn't new for him like the safehouse had been. He looked through her bookcase – many of them were his own novels, of course – and found a small stack of crossword puzzle and variety puzzle books. Figuring that those would be good for something to do later on, he picked up a couple and set them on the coffee table for later, and sat down on the couch, picking up the remote for her TV. He already knew that she was a fan of a certain soap opera – they'd had that discussion over a case once – but he was really surprised just how many episodes were in her DVR. It wasn't a show that he watched, so he skipped those and looked for something interesting to keep his mind occupied with something besides the current case.

Eventually, though, he turned the TV off and set the remote down on the magazines.

"Nothing on?" Beckett asked him, walking into the living room.

"No. Not really." He smiled. "And no way to spy on the neighbors."

Her return smile was amused.

"I'll work on that." She came over and sat by him. "Dinner is going to be a while, do you want something to snack on while it's baking?"

"No. It's okay; I can wait."

They sat beside each other in comfortable silence for a little while, but Castle couldn't help but think about what had been going on. He sighed, and leaned back against the couch cushions.

"So I am going to the Haunt… I see Jimmy and get out of the cab and follow him into the back hallway of Bridget's place. I… something happens and I end up beat up and locked in the closet and Jimmy ends up dead…"

"So far it sounds about right, considering the evidence we have."

She was used to him running through their cases step by step like this – although it was never as personal as it was just then – and she was more than willing to go through the steps with him if it would help.

"Then what?" he asked. "Jeremy and Bridget have something they wanted fenced but Jimmy is dead now, so… they must have had to go to a different fence, then…. Yes?"

"Makes sense. But if it's really expensive like we expect, then they couldn't use just anyone – and they'd have to be careful who they discussed it with. It's very possible a fence might turn them in for a possible reward rather than deal with making something too valuable disappear."

"Huh." Castle rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "I wish I knew what the gift is," he muttered, frustrated. "If I knew, I could tell you and you might have a better idea who to ask about it…"

"We don't know for certain that you ever saw it," Beckett pointed out.

"I know where it is, though…" he said. "I remember… I remember her voice telling me that she couldn't tell me – or he'd kill us both – but I know she told me. I just know it."

"You're trying too hard to remember," she told him. Again.

"He could already be fencing it and getting away."

"Or he could be looking for it. Whatever it is." She put her hand on his knee, trying to calm him. "Do you think she told you what it is?"

He shook his head.

"No. I don't think I know what it is. I think that it's small, though."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know. Maybe because they hid it for so many years?"

"Or maybe she – or he – mentioned something that would make you think that."

"Maybe."

"Close your eyes and relax," Beckett suggested. "Maybe it'll come to you…"

He sighed, but did as he was told. She knew, though, immediately, that as tense as he was he wasn't going to be able to remember anything. The pattern she was seeing was that he tended to remember things when he was asleep – or when he wasn't trying to think of it. They were having better luck when things were just popping into his head. The problem with that, though, was that he was getting frustrated by not knowing. Not that she blamed him.

"Nothing," he told her, almost immediately, opening his eyes.

"You're trying too hard, Castle."

"I don't know how not to…" His entire body practically screamed his frustration – but she knew it was all directed at himself and she definitely felt for him, even if she didn't understand how it felt to not be able to remember something that was clearly so important.

"Let me help," she said, shifting a little beside him before she took his hand, turned her back against him and then used her hold on him to bring his arm around her. She caught his other hand and held both of them in front of her – against her stomach – and leaned back against his chest, careful not to bump the bruises that were only just starting to fade. She felt him tense against her, uncertain, but when she relaxed a little, with her hands still holding his against her he shifted a little to get more comfortable and then tried to relax as well. "Better?"

He sighed, and she felt it more than heard it, since she was so close to him.

"Better," he agreed. His breath was warm against her ear, but his body was still tense – although she had a feeling it was for a different reason, now.

"Close your eyes," she told him. "And try not to think of anything…"

"Easier said than done."

"I know." Her hands tightened on his. She wouldn't tell him, but she rather liked his arms around her. "Just try, okay?"

She closed her eyes as well, and settled against him, allowing him to cradle her in his arms. As she relaxed further, so did he, and she knew that much was working, at least. His arms tightened a little on her, but his hands carefully stayed in hers, not straying any higher – or any lower, for that matter. He breathed deeply once, and then again, and for a long moment they were both quiet, simply being a comfort to the other.

Castle found that he really was beginning to relax. Not something he'd ever have thought he'd be able to do with Kate Beckett's body so close to his own and his arms around her almost possessively. Her thumb stroked the side of his hand as he relaxed, and the motion was almost hypnotic, helping him clear his head of anything distracting – aside from her, of course, and since she wasn't doing anything more than simply helping him focus, she was far less of a distraction than he'd ever thought possible. Surprisingly – or maybe not – he found that with his eyes closed and blocking out everything else it wasn't as hard to allow his thoughts to drift back to those memories as it had been.

"Okay…" he murmured more to himself, but aloud so she would know where his thoughts were going. "They're arguing…"

"Jeremy and Bridget?"

"Yes."

"About the gift?"

"Yes."

"What are they saying?" she asked him, softly.

"She wants to sell it. He thinks they need to wait."

"For what?"

"Someone is coming."

"Who?"

"I don't know. She doesn't like him, though. She told me that he cheated them before and she thinks that he'll do it again."

"Did she tell you his name?"

"I don't…" she felt him begin to tense as he tried to force the memory, and her hand brushed against his arm, gentling him before he could lose the calm that they were both enveloped in. He relaxed. "I don't think she told me. No. Jeremy mentioned him. I heard him. Roger."

"Roger. Good. Who is he?"

"I'm not sure. I think he's-"

A knock on the door startled both of them and Beckett jumped up with a muttered curse. She'd been so close! Castle looked almost dazed, and she frowned, wondering if he was okay. The person at the door knocked again and her phone alerted her to a text. Ryan was letting her know he was the one at the door. Of course, she checked the peephole anyway – better safe than sorry – and then she opened the door. The detective was carrying the bag she'd left at the safehouse as well as Castle's.

"How's it going?" he asked, entering her apartment and setting the bags on the floor.

"We're fine."

"Need anything?"

She looked over at Castle, who was looking more alert. He shook his head to tell her he was fine, and she turned back to Ryan.

"I think we're okay. Did Esposito find anything in Bridgett's history?"

"We're waiting for her school yearbooks to be sent over. We should have them by morning."

Not everything was available on the Internet unfortunately.

"All right." Beckett checked the time. "Do what you guys can, and then go ahead and call it a day."

"That's what we figured. I think I got everything out of the safehouse, but call me and let me know if something is missing and I can pick it up on my way in tomorrow."

"Thanks," Castle told him, sincerely. He didn't want to have to use Beckett's toiletries, after all. They were more lavender and vanilla than he preferred.

"Sure thing."

Ryan didn't stick around and Beckett turned to Castle once she'd closed the door behind him. He gave her a wry smile.

"Almost had it, huh?"

"Pretty close," she agreed. She sat down beside him. "They seemed to have argued often…"

He didn't need to ask her who she meant by 'they'. Instead he nodded.

"All the time."

She wanted to try getting him relaxed again, but Beckett had a feeling that he'd been shaken when they'd been startled by Ryan, and she didn't want that to happen again. His nerves were already fairly well shot, she knew. She reached for his hand, but made no move to lean against him again. Instead she simply sat with him.

"You want to try again?" Castle asked.

"Let's wait until after we eat," she suggested. "Then we can focus on it a little more and with less distraction."

He relaxed without even realizing just how tense he'd been and Beckett knew they'd made a good decision. They had all night, after all.