The apartment is ours. Closure on Monday.

It caused him to frown. He was most definitely cursed. He was really going to lose her.

However, he checked the time then tapped back, reminding himself of her father's words that he had to be patient.

Congratulations. Awesome news. Are you coming home for dinner tonight?

On my way. Need anything?

He smiled. He needed a magic formula to make her want to be with him. He tapped out.

Just you. I will open a bottle to celebrate.

He hit send then put down the phone, extremely disappointed the apartment had been sold to Kate.

Chapter 110

Season 2 – ep 13 Sucker Punch

Three days later, in the early hours of the morning, Rick closed and locked the door to Kate's new apartment. Beckett dumped her belongings and a pizza box on the kitchen counter then returned to take off a purple trench coat she hung beside Rick's coat. Things were a little make shift in the entrance with removal boxes piled up to each side. Rick carried another box he'd brought from the loft, along with an overnight bag packed with belongings he would leave there for times he stayed over.

"Jack Coonan." Rick stated as he followed Kate into the living area. "Sounds like a character name for a novel."

Beckett smiled with amusement, "If you're writing about the Irish Mafia, Jack Coonan was certainly a colourful character. He was into aggravated assault, arson-"

"Cargo theft, counterfeiting, extortion." Castle continued, "Heaps of writing material. I'll take this stuff to the bedroom, Honey." He kept going, stepping around boxes all clearly labelled.

"I thought thirty holes that don't normally appear in a healthy 35 year old male, would have grabbed your attention, Castle." She spoke loud enough for him to hear from the bedroom reminding him of the murder victim they had been called out to earlier in the night. As he returned, relieved of his luggage, she said, "Not the name, Jack Coonan. And," she smiled, mesmerised by her own imagination, "With a whopping nine millimetre Sig still tucked in his waistband, I would have thought that was right up your alley."

"Yeah." He smiled, fascinated and amused, as he approached the new fridge. "The poor bloody bastard didn't even have time to pull it out to defend himself." He opened the fridge door and stared inside it, wondering whether Beckett would ever allow a fridge to serve its intended purpose. The shelves were bare but for the standards. Milk. Ground coffee. Fruit, leftovers. Beer. There would be a bottle of vodka in the freezer for those special times. "Shower or pizza?" He asked as he fetched two beers from the fridge. He untwisted a lid.

It was an instant response, "Pizza." They'd been about to prepare dinner when they had been called out to the murder of Jack Coonan so now she was beyond hungry. She accepted the bottle and took it and the pizza to the lounge. "You know, Castle? The guy who shot Coonan was armed and ready. Whoever it was that got him was very, very good." She dropped the box on the coffee table and flipped open the pizza box. Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.

"Like I said, Kate. The killer was a Ninja assassin." He pointed the remote control and turned on the TV, had a good swig of his beer. When the TV picture was up, it was adverts, of course. "Hey, look Honey, Johnny Vong is on."

"Seriously?" She turned from the pizza to view the flatscreen, took a decent bite of the piece she had taken.

Castle mimicked John Vong as the info commercial rolled on, "Most people think you got to have money to make money, but that's not true. Look at me, when I come to this country I come with nothing. I come on boat, and now…I own a boat."

Beckett laughed, "Castle, you spend way too much time procrastinating about writing by watching TV."

"Used to. Nowadays, that portion of my nights are spent watching you, while I write." He bit into a piece of pizza, was pleasantly surprised by how good it tasted. Beckett had been banging on for weeks about a little pizza joint down on the corner near her old apartment, run by a couple of Chinese guys. "Excellent."

"Told you." She smugly replied, sat on the couch, "How many hours of sleep do you average? Like, I don't wake up."

"You've gotten used to me moving. About four to five hours depending on a number of factors."

"I can't believe you still watch me sleep."

"Well, I'm usually sitting beside you, writing on my Mac, you know, and if I get stuck I stare at you." Rick ran palm up his girlfriend's thigh.

"Mm. That's creepy, Babe."

"Mm." He looked at his hand momentarily thinking she was talking about his touch. "Sometimes it is." He smiled, "Other times you can look adorable."

"Funny, Rick. And I don't wake?"

He shrugged, "You might move, sleep talk but that's about it. You rarely stir now."

"You don't get tired?"

"Not much. Well, I get tired when we, you know-" he waved his pizza in circles and Kate nodded her understanding.

"Yeah, that really helps me sleep," she confessed.

"Yeah, well, some of those umm…" he swallowed food, "Sometimes those climaxes are mega events."

"Sometimes? Underselling your skills, Buddy." She laughed, "That's what you do to me, Ricky," she teased, glancing to him.

"Remember that."

"I will."

"You still have a heap to unpack." He commented waving a hand at the array of boxes.

"Yep. Least the bedroom is done. Those boxes belong to this room. Mostly books. The second bedroom, I still need a bed for guests."

"I have a queen size frame in storage you're welcome to. We can buy a new mattress."

"Sure. Thanks. It's not ugly is it?" She asked well aware it would rub him up the wrong way.

"It's not ugly." He glared at her, saw her expression, smiled. "Oh, I get it, you're shit stirring me. It's free."

"So easy, Castle. So easy to jerk your chain."

"I won't forget."
"I know." She smiled, "But yes, let's use the frame you have."

"I will arrange to get it out."

"Thank you."

*. *. *.

They got up early the next morning to get a head start on their new murder case. The shower was running and Castle was beneath the steaming water, scrubbing his face with soap on a sponge when Beckett stepped into the walk in shower. Her right hand brushed down his rib cage, causing him to jump with surprise.

"Fuck, Kate. Your fingers are freezing."

She laughed, "Yeah. I know. Sorry."

He looked at her. "You're not sorry one bit." He wrapped his arm around her middle, noting her hair was tied up on top of her head, a sign the hair wasn't to get wet.

"Mm." She turned when his hands urged her to, until she was backed up to him. She glanced about to visually assess how aroused he was, having felt him against her buttocks. "Castle. This is a shower."

"Quickie too." He replied his left hand sneaking down her pelvis to her pubic mound. "I promise I won't wet your hair," he murmured just before he kissed her left shoulder.

Laughter erupted from her. Her body succumbed to his proposal to have sex and her hands reached behind her to find him. She squeaked when his finger circled her clit and his gentle nip on her shoulder stilled her body.

Castle grumbled something, his voice partially drowned out by the running water, but mostly by Kate's inability to clearly think and hear. Absent of thoughts she focussed only on what her body felt, what he did. Her legs lost their ability to support. His right arm hooked around her, held her against his chest in support.

*. *. *. *.

Their first stop off for the day was to visit Richard Coonan, the deceased's brother. He was polite, businesslike seated behind his large desk, in his expansive office that was only a fraction small than Becketts old apartment. He was clearly a busy man. He also wasn't one bit surprised his brother, Jack Coonan, had met with an untimely and gruesome death and was now on a slab at the morgue. No surprise at all.

Castle let Beckett carry the interview aware Coonan tolerated the time out of his day but wouldn't let it go for too long.

Richard Coonan explained too Beckett that he and his brother had been raised in a rough neighbourhood and had been on their own a lot. A smile broke when he stated Jack had been the toughest kid on the block, and that's what first brought him to Finn Rourke's attention. Castle wasn't aware of who Finn Rourke was, but Beckett seemed to know and mentioned she had heard that Rourke ran with The Westies. Richard Coonan summed it up that whatever his brother had been doing for Rourke had been what got him killed.

They were in and out within ten minutes. They departed after Richard Coonan reiterated that he had turned his back on his past, had made a life for himself.

Beckett was quiet during the journey out of the high-rise building, deep in thought about something, the case they were one. On the other hand, Castle had a gut feeling Richard Coonan knew more about his brother's life that he let on. He didn't have the experience of having a sibling, neither did Beckett. They didn't have a sense of sibling rivalry, of growing up with another child. Maybe he'd had a chat with Ryan when they got back to the Precinct. He had a handful of sisters, was experienced and could add something to help him understand the relationship between the Coonan brothers. Hell, the guy hadn't so much as flinched when Beckett had informed him of his brother's death. Not a tear.

On the way to Finn Rourke's pub, Beckett filled Castle in on The Westies. By the time she agreed to let him join her in the pub, he was up to speed with these men and educated on how dangerous the Westies were.

*. *. *

Back at the Precinct, Beckett came from the ladies. She sat at her desk as Esposito lowered himself onto Castle's chair. She looked at Esposito, questioning his appearance but also dying to tell someone what had gone down with Castle at the pub.

"What's the smug look for, Chica?"

She smiled, reached into the second drawer and glanced about the bull pen to locate Castle who was with Ryan. They were at the coffee machine engaged in what seemed light conversation. She grabbed a protein bar and placed it on the desk before her. "Oh, I was thinking when Castle and I went to Finn's Irish pub."

"Mm?"

"On the trip to the pub, I said to Castle that the Westies can be pretty rough, right? Asked if he wanted to stay in the car, you know wait for me."

Esposito chuckled, "Metro boy with the Westies."

She snickered, "He replied," she lowered her voice to mimic Castle, "No way." She then went up an octave. "So, I suggested he keep his mouth shut and um… try to butch up a little." She bit her bottom lip holding back laughter.

"Him butch up? Yeah right."

She absently puckered her lips thinking about just how much he did butch up with her. "Well, I'm looking for Finn Rourke to have a chat with him and so I go into Finn's Irish Pub in company of the suit with the expensive haircut and cologne beside me."

"And you don't exactly look Irish and you look expensive."

"No. Nothing Irish about me, but not sure about looking expensive. But in I go. Ask for Finn Bourke." She sits forward. "Guy behind the bar tells me, you and your wife there can keep looking."

Espo chuckled, "How did writer boy take that?"

"Mm. Ignored him." Kate smiled, "Gets better. I'm focussed on the barman, struggling with the Irish accent and Castle is fiddling as usual. I threaten to make a phone call to the department of health, that they will be down there, and the pub will be shut down for a month. It's not like I'm asking for a lot, for him to cough up. Next thing, writer boy over there." She waved a hand in his general direction, and Esposito followed to see the buys messing about in the breakout room. "He's got his hand wrist deep in a huge pickle jar, diving for pickled eggs and next thing he's got one and pops the entire pickled egg in his mouth and he's choking on it."

She laughed unable to suppress it any longer. Esposito cringed. "Geez."

"Right? The saltiness and vinegar with a hard-boiled egg." She screwed up her nose. "And then, Finn Rourke, who's looking old and scruffy now, appears outa nowhere and tells Tommy the barman to give a pint to the pretty boy to settle his stomach. Castle chased the egg down gulping the beer."

"What did you do?"

Beckett sat back, "Remained as cool as a cucumber, I said Mr Rourke, I'm Detective Kate Beckett. I'm here about Jack Coonan. He wasn't gonna talk anyways and then shortly after we came upon Mario Mendoza getting his face re-arranged by a couple of Irish thugs. We have him waiting in interrogation one. LT is watching him."

"How about Ryan and I have a chat with him?"

"Sure. Ryan might be able to get through to him."