Beckett's standing before the words are even out of Ryan's mouth, discarding the last of her granola bar into the trash and grabbing the jacket that's on the back of her chair. Ryan and Esposito are hot on her heels and the three of them pile into the elevator.

Her mind is a knot of tension and she forces herself to take a deep breath. "What do we know?" she asks, and Ryan shakes his head.

"Not much- but no-one's been hurt. They're trying to get in touch with Castle now."


When they make it to Castle's loft they find a distraught Martha giving her statement to a couple of uniforms, and they earn themselves a glare from the robbery detective on the scene. "It's not a homicide," Detective Wilson tells them, and Beckett shrugs.

"No- but it's our civilian consultant's place," Ryan speaks up when it becomes apparent that Beckett's not going to do anything but observe the scene; her lips are tightly drawn and she's scanning the open room.

She steps away from the boys and makes a beeline for Martha, sitting down beside the woman and nodding at the uniforms. "What happened?" she asks, and the older red-head turns to her, distress in her eyes.

"I was upstairs," she says, "when I heard a noise down here. At first I thought Richard was back, so I wasn't at all concerned, but when I came downstairs-" Martha pauses with a wry look on her face- "well, Richard certainly wasn't here, and it looked like this." She gestures through the open study door- there are papers strewn around and a ton of books have been knocked from the shelves.

"How did they get in?" Beckett asks the uniforms grimly, taking note of their names. Clyde and Summers.

"Through the terrace, we think," Summers tells her, and the other Officer nods.

"Probably got to the terrace from the roof," Clyde says. "We've got someone downstairs talking to the doorman now."

Beckett nods, glancing again at the mess in the study before turning back to Martha, when a tall figure storms into the room. Castle wraps his mother up in a hug, and Beckett looks away uncomfortably. She'd forgotten, in her haste to get here, that being at the loft would mean seeing Castle.

"Beckett," Castle says, turning to her with a note of desperation in his voice.

"Castle," she returns, but she doesn't initiate any other conversation, and they stare unhappily at each other for a second before she looks away, avoiding his eyes.

"Thanks… for coming," he starts, but before things can become more awkward, Ryan joins them, looking at them both appraisingly before shrugging and interrupting.

"Castle, hi. Is anything missing?" he asks, and Castle looks around, eyes wide and uncertain.

"I- uh- I don't know. I just got here, so… maybe? But I haven't had a chance to look."

"Doesn't look like there are any prints," Ryan says, and Beckett grimaces. "Professional job, by the looks of it-" It's obvious Castle's not really listening, he's wandered into the study, and Beckett casts a glance at Martha. The older woman looks flustered, and she trails after her son.

Ryan cocks his head after the two of them, indicating that he and Beckett should follow, and she does so reluctantly. She shouldn't have come here. She leans against the doorway between the office and the living room, sighing; she'd been right here just last night, albeit in very different circumstances. It's one thing to put her anger aside and work a case that involves Castle, but she's homicide, not robbery, and she's not needed here.

As if in answer to her prayers, her cell chimes, and she looks at the message from the precinct. "Our warrant's in for the boyfriend," she tells Ryan, and he nods.

It's Castle who surprises her though. He turns to look at her. "Caught a case, did you?" There's a gravity to his voice that takes her by surprise.

She just nods, and turns to go. It's all too raw; just two days ago he would have been with her on the murder investigation, and it's with a heavy heart that she leaves. She can't stay, but she doesn't want to go, either.

Esposito's been hovering around the lead from the Robbery division, but he follows her out the door.

"I'm going to stay here," Ryan calls after them, and she waves a hand behind her, kicking herself for not being polite enough to give a proper goodbye to Martha, but the loft is suffocating.

"You wanna tell me what's going on, Beckett?" Esposito asks her as they ride the elevator downstairs and she stares at him for a moment, considering. His eyes are devoid of any of the gentle ribbing they so often have for each other, and she can only read concern in his expression. "This- thing with you- it's not about Sorenson, is it?"

"No," she agrees, deciding to tell him. She'll keep it matter of fact, she's not going to elaborate. "Castle- Castle's been looking into my mom's case behind my back."

"Oh." Esposito's mouth hangs open a moment too long, and she thinks he's shocked. She nods, clenching her teeth. Yeah. She was stunned too.


Castle feels a weight lift when he sees Beckett exit with Esposito, but he turns around to find himself face to face with Ryan. "It was you, not Sorenson, who upset Beckett," Ryan accuses, and Castle acquiesces with a curt nod.

"I started looking into her Mom's case behind her back," he confesses and he watches in shame as the Detective's eyes widen. He pushes it aside though; the feeling of violation of having an intruder in the loft is oppressive and he has a sinking feeling in his stomach. He's missing something, he's sure of it. He's perplexed by the entire situation. Why would anyone go to all this effort to break in and not take anything?

And then it occurs to him. The safe. There's only one thing that's new to the loft in the last forty-eight hours.

"I have a safe," he tells Ryan.

"What?"

Castle turns sharply, and Ryan follows him into his bedroom. A few drawers in his dresser are ajar and the closet door is wide open. He points. "In there. There's a second door, and the safe is behind it." Ryan nods, beckoning to the Robbery Detective.

"Wilson?" Ryan calls out, and the other detective joins them.

"I'll get CSU to check it for prints, then you can open it and confirm nothing's missing," he says.

Ryan hovers a little longer, but he doesn't say another word to Castle. It's a relief when he leaves, and Castle is left, dazed, to sift through his desk to check if anything is missing. There's a stack of cash in a desk drawer that remains untouched and none of the more expensive electronics or toys have been disturbed, although Castle notes with dismay that one of his swords is broken.

Castle sits prone beside his mother, as CSU upend his home more thoroughly than whomever was here before them, and when they're at last done dusting for prints, he walks back through his bedroom, trailed closely by Martha.

He swings the closet door further open and he slides the inner door across. The safe itself appears untouched except for the fine trace of fingerprinting powder which has been added to the already significant layer of dust. He punches in the code, sighing in relief as he sees that it's all in order; nothing in here has been touched; paperwork, money and passports all stacked neatly.

"Everything there?" Wilson asks him, and Castle nods.

"Everything's there," he tells the detective.

"Good. It's a good spot for a safe," he tells Castle, but his tone is disinterested, and the man steps back into the study, leaving Castle and Martha alone in the bedroom.

Castle stands silently for a moment longer, and then with his mother watching him appraisingly, he strides back to the safe, picking up each of the documents in turn until he's satisfied that the files really are all still there.

He closes the again and sinks into the armchair by the bed, surveying the damage. Were they after the files? How could anyone have even known he had them? He's none too impressed by Wilson, but there's something else holding him back; if the intruders were looking for the case files, it's best if as few people know as possible. He won't say a word to the robbery detective, but perhaps tomorrow he can talk to Ryan and Esposito, and if he's lucky, he can leave Beckett out of it entirely.

Alexis comes home as the last of the uniforms are leaving, horror in her eyes as she realizes that something has happened while she's been at school. "Hamptons tomorrow?" she asks quietly, and Castle nods. He'll need to clean up here, but he wants to get away from the city, from his loft.

Martha shakes her head in dismay, surveying the scene before her. She turns on her heel, returning a minute later with a glass of wine in her hand, and she squeezes her granddaughter's shoulder.

The three of them make quick work of tidying the shelves; Alexis and Martha ease the books back onto the shelves, and Castle shoves the upended paperwork back into the appropriate drawers.

Alexis still looks shaken, although as Martha drains the last of her glass of wine, he notes that his mother looks quite a lot calmer. He wouldn't mind a drink, either, but instead he hugs his daughter to him, pressing a kiss into her red hair before asking. "Hotel tonight?"


Kate stretches, trying to work the kinks out of her back. She's packing up the murder board; it had taken more than she'd expected to get the confession out of Kristina Sokolova's boyfriend, and she's exhausted. She unpins the photos and scrubs at the dry-erase ink until it's all clear, and then she leans back against her desk, staring up at what is once again a blank slate.

Images swim before her eyes; her own thoughts come to life. Her mom's picture would have been on a board like this at one time; she's curious to know how long it had taken Raglan before he'd packed it up. Kate wonders if it had haunted him at night the way her own cold cases do her.

She scrubs tired hands across her eyes; the last few times that she's stayed back this late to finish up she's had Castle by her side. For a split second she considers texting him but she dismisses the urge; it's a habit, she tells herself, and completely unnecessary. She can't shake her feeling of trepidation though. There's a portent of fear swirling in her stomach, and Kate has no idea where it's coming from; she just knows that she's had an uncomfortable niggling for most of the day. She sighs, standing up when she sees Ryan and Esposito coming toward her, their computers already shut down.

She follows suit and switches off her own PC, following the boys into the elevator. She smiles tiredly at them and declines the offer of a drink. She needs her bed, not alcohol, in order to put this anxiety to rest. It's been a long couple of days; nothing a good night's sleep won't solve.


A/N: Thanks for joining me on this journey, guys! Trish and Kylie, your advice and notes are invaluable. x