An evening at the Four Seasons seems to be doing everyone good, Castle thinks. His mother has spent the evening drinking wine and generally behaving as though they were at the hotel for a treat, rather than because they were nervous about being in their own home.

Her attitude has been infectious and Alexis perks up as soon as they order room service. An evening watching movies may have set both Martha and Alexis' minds at ease, but Castle's fears haven't been so easily assuaged. In spite of his mother's insistence that the thieves had broken in looking for valuables, he remains unconvinced, and the conspiracy theories taking hold in his mind are disturbing.

Each time Martha tells the story of coming downstairs to a disturbance, her tale becomes more elaborate, until, fueled by too many glasses of wine, she's talking of scaring the intruders away before they could take anything. Castle nods and pretends to agree with her, but privately thinks the intruders had plenty of time to take money or objects, and he's more and more convinced that they left empty handed.

He wants to warn Beckett, but that would mean admitting what he's done, what he's taken from the precinct. He wishes he'd never thought to investigate it in the first place, that Esposito hadn't let him copy Johanna Beckett's file, and that Karpowski hadn't so easily allowed him into a restricted area.

He wishes that instead of dealing with a break in, he'd been at the scene yesterday. He knows nothing about the case they'd caught, just that if Beckett was there, he would have liked to have been there too.

Once he finally makes his way to bed in his half of the suite, he tosses and turns. Castle alternates between burying his head beneath the pillows, and stretching out on top of all the covers; it's a long time before sleep finds him.


Castle wakes to Alexis' face floating somewhere too close to his own; she's leaning right over him, her hands at the ready, about to tap his face. His mother is hovering in the background and he wonders vaguely just why this family seems to have no boundaries. "Dad!" his daughter hisses, and he rubs his face and winces, swatting her away.

"What?" he scowls, and she looks at him disapprovingly.

"Dad!" she says again, exasperated. "It's eleven in the morning. We need to go. If I'm skipping school to go to the Hamptons we need to actually go there."

"Right." Castle sits up reluctantly.

"And-" Alexis raises an eyebrow and fixes him with her most innocent look. Even in his sleepy state, Castle thinks he knows what's coming next, and he's unsurprised by the next words out of his daughter's mouth. "I kind of need a new swimsuit- can I borrow your credit card?"

Castle notes that the need to shop is apparently genetic. For all that Alexis seems to have nothing else in common with her mother, she and Meredith certainly do share a love for his credit card. Then again, he supposes his daughter could have just as easily inherited that trait from her grandmother- Martha certainly enjoys burning through the plastic as well. His mother is standing behind Alexis, beaming down at him, and he sits up, pointing. "There. My wallet's there. Take the card. And go!"

"Thanks, Daddy," his fifteen year old squeals, planting a kiss on his cheek before dashing to the dresser housing his wallet, and he winces, covering his ears.

"Go," he says again, and he watches as the two red-heads exit, gleefully clutching at his credit card, before flopping back onto the bed.


"Seriously?" Beckett whirls around when she hears his familiar footfall behind her, and her eyes fall on Castle. Her instinct is to attack, although she regrets her words the moment they're out of her mouth. "Seriously. You're back here again? Robbery's on a different floor if you need to make a statement about yesterday. You know that." She shakes her head. Can the universe just give her a day without seeing him? A day to clear her head? Just one? There's something that aches in her heart when she looks at him.

"No," he says. "I'm just here to see Ryan and Esposito. I didn't mean to bother you."

She watches him take the few steps between her desk and the boys; each step is heavy, laden with fatigue, and she sighs before turning back to her computer, angrily scrolling through her emails and praying for her phone to ring with a body drop. With a distraction.

She looks up again to see Castle beckon both of the boys into the conference room, and she tries to hide the that fact she's watching as the two boys shrug at one another and follow Castle, curiosity apparent on both their faces.

Castle's back is to her, and Esposito is blocked by the window frame. She can see Ryan, though, and she watches him run a gamut of emotions; his mouth finally falling open in shock, and he looks out into the bullpen. She averts her eyes, but he catches her, and he schools his features, casting a nervous glance back at Castle.

Castle takes something from the bag he's had slung over his shoulder, and he hands it to the guys. She narrows her eyes, all pretense of not watching now tossed aside. It appears to be paperwork, neatly bound in a yellow folder, and she watches Esposito flick through it. The three men walk back into the bullpen, and Castle makes a beeline for the elevator; he doesn't look her way and she stares straight ahead as he passes; only allowing herself to pinch the bridge of her nose when she hears the chime of the elevator, and she knows that he's gone.

"What was-" she starts to ask the boys, but her prayers are answered, albeit a little later than she'd hoped, and her desk phone rings. She takes the down the details, grabs her jacket, and when she looks up, neither of the boys are anywhere to be seen.


Beckett returns from the scene covered in grime and scowling. She plucks at the threads on the sleeve of her jacket. This had been such a nice jacket, and she's cursing the killer; murdering someone is one thing, but murdering her jacket is another. Did he need to hide the body in such a filthy cellar? And one with so many rough surfaces? Her only consolation had been Lanie; as the M.E. had swiped at the wall that had torn Kate's sleeve she'd spotted some other threads. CSU were sweeping the scene thoroughly now, and Beckett hopes that they'll uncover some evidence she can use.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Esposito exclaims, and Ryan smirks behind him.

"Crime scene," she spits out. "Which you would know, if you had been there. What's going on?"

Ryan shrugs uncomfortably, and the guys exchange a glance. "Tell you when you get cleaned up, okay?" She's starting to get a little worried and she decides; no matter what the boys tell her, she's going to talk to Castle tonight, really have it out with him. See if they can broker some peace.

Beckett nods, running a hand through her hair and rolling her eyes at the boys when another layer of dust is dislodged. "Right."

She takes the stairs two at a time to the floor above; there are showers in the ladies' bathrooms but she prefers the ones in the gym. The hot water tumbles over her and she takes the time to shampoo through her hair twice, cursing the lack of conditioner. She towels off and runs a brush through her hair; she wants to grow it again, the way she wore it when she was in her early twenties, before she'd chopped it all off the day she accepted her detective badge. Today, though, she's grateful that it barely reaches her shoulders because running a brush through it will be a nightmare.

Kate scrambles into the change of clothes she has in her locker; a pair of jeans and a soft t-shirt, a far cry from the professional slacks and shirt from this morning. She towels through her hair again; the hairdryer here is appalling and she's taken too long already. She has to get back downstairs; her own case is waiting for her, but she wants to know what the boys have got for her as well.


Esposito's on the phone when she comes down, though, and Ryan looks buried in paperwork, so she makes herself a coffee in the break room first, bypassing Castle's machine and making herself a cup from the older machine that's still sitting there. It's disgusting, but she figures she drank it for the last few years before Castle came along, and she can do it again.

Beckett crosses the floor to her desk and sits down, entering her password to access her computer. She glances up to see Esposito put the phone down, only to have it ring again, and she sighs, sipping at the coffee and making a face. Fine, she concedes to herself. As long as Castle's machine is here, she may as well use it, right?

She rolls her eyes at herself and stands. Life's too short to drink bad coffee and she trudges back into the break room, but Esposito calls her before she reaches the door.

"Beckett- It's Castle," Kate looks at him in annoyance, willfully ignoring the odd look on Espo's face.

"What about Castle?" she asks. "Another break in? What was even stolen last time anyway?" Nothing. She knows the answer. But she's not going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that she'd even looked at the file. No, absolutely not.

"Um." Esposito hesitates and Kate can't lie to herself anymore. Something is seriously wrong if Esposito is looking at her like that.

"Well?" she urges, frustrated by his silence and the apprehension in his eyes.

"He's-" Esposito shrugs, uncomfortable. "Kate, Castle's been shot."

There's a beat, and Kate feels the blood drain from her face. Her instinct is to stand, rush, and take charge. Her instinct is to do. She does nothing. Esposito's statement has sent chills down her spine, and she's frozen to the spot, unable to process anything as his words replay over and over in her head.

Shot. Shot. Shot. "Castle's been shot."


A/N: Many thanks, Trish and Kylie for giving it a look through! And to all you readers... I'm sorry for shooting Castle. Oops.