Author's Note: Apologies for not being able to post last week but RL got in the way.

The Best-Laid Plans

Chapter 23

Kate blinked her eyes open, momentarily disoriented, before she remembered, realized. She was in Castle's bed, in the loft. It was, she belatedly realized, as her brain fully woke up, the first full night she'd spent in his bed since the first (and last) time, she hadn't allowed herself to linger, had snuck out when he'd fallen asleep. This was better.

She squinted, turning her head to look at the clock on the nightstand on her side of the bed. (wait, what, her side? Since when did she even have a side on his bed? Except she rather thought she did. Certainly, she couldn't imagine Castle denying it.) The clock read 6:12. She made a small face. It was early, especially considering it was a Saturday, but then again, Saturday notwithstanding, it would be a work day for her thanks to the new case and she still needed to go home to change.

Slowly, she wriggled, turning over under the weight of Castle's arm so she could look at him, moving carefully so as not to actually dislodge his arm. (What, she was comfortable, cozy, and didn't want to really move or disturb him yet. She was being thoughtful, it had nothing, or at least not much, to do with simply liking the feeling of Castle's arm over her, how sheltered it made her feel.)

He was still sound asleep, she saw, in the dim light filtering in through his curtains. She hadn't had a chance to see him sleeping like this before. The nights he'd stayed at her place, the first night, he had woken up before her, and the second night, her alarm clock had woken them both up. So this was her first chance to see him asleep, his face half-mashed into his pillow. She felt warmth, an odd combination of amusement and… liking, sprout inside her. He was cute like this, with his hair sticking up every which way, looked younger even than he normally did with his expression smoothed out in sleep, even though that was contrasted with the not-at-all-childlike stubble darkening his cheeks and chin.

And he was, as she'd immediately become aware, radiating heat like a furnace. Which would be very useful in winter since she was often cold. (Since when had she started to think like this, just assuming that they would still be together when winter came around? It was months away.)

She pushed the thought aside. No point in fretting over what might happen in the future. She would just focus on the now, which was well worth appreciating. She could definitely get used to waking up to this view. At some point, he or maybe she had pulled the covers up to their waists but that still left Castle's chest and shoulders bare and very much up close and personal since she was lying within the curve of his arm. Surrounded and sheltered by his warmth and his strength, his familiar scent wreathing in her nostrils. Oh, yes, she liked the idea of waking up to this. Liked all of it, from his very comfortable bed, to his clearly expensive, luxurious sheets, to him.

It was just too bad that she could not linger in this bed all morning. Some other time, though, she promised herself, definitely. For now, though, they had a case so she did need to be leaving. And that meant she needed to wake him up. She was not about to sneak out (again).

She grimaced a little and lifted a hand to touch his cheek, feeling his morning stubble against her palm. She traced her fingers over his ear and then down his nose and he stirred a little, turning his face into the caress of her hand to brush a sleepy kiss to her palm, sending just a little thrill of sensation up her arm. He didn't open his eyes though, only tightened his arm around her, pulling her just that little bit closer so she was even more thoroughly surrounded–and oh, now she could feel the part of his body that was definitely awake.

She felt a little quiver of arousal go through her, all the nerves in her body seeming to fully come awake. They did have a case but, well, it was early enough so they had some time.

She traced his face again, this time tracing his eyebrow with her fingers before sweeping them down his cheek, then moved her thumb along his mouth. And that was what made his eyes open, his lips curving slightly under her hand, as he blinked. "Mm, Kate," he rumbled, his voice low and husky with disuse–and she felt her stomach flip at the sound. Because his sleepy, husky voice was similar enough to his sexy, husky tone and she couldn't seem to help her reaction to him.

"Morning, Castle," she whispered.

He still looked a little drowsy, not fully awake, so to assist with that (what, she was being helpful) she lifted her other hand, trailed her fingers down from his clavicle to his chest, her fingers circling around his nipple and then lightly pinching it, the more intimate caress immediately making his body jerk a little, his eyes flaring open, the curve of his lips deepening. "Oh, I like the way you think," he murmured and oh, now, this was his sexy tone.

She shifted closer to him, nuzzling a kiss to the corner of his lips, his chin, and allowing one of her legs to slide over and around his, a not-at-all subtle invitation. Which he was quick to accept, rolling over onto his back and bringing her with him until she was lying sprawled over him.

She lifted her head, smiling into his eyes. "Smooth, Castle."

"I thought so." It shouldn't have been possible for him to preen while lying flat on his back but he managed it. His eyes were so bright and so blue, it made her heart seem to stutter a little. He just looked so happy…

"Now that we're here, what exactly do you have in mind?" she teased, pretending thoughtfulness.

"I can think of a few things…" he murmured and before she could react or guess what he intended, he reared up and touched his mouth to her chest, an open-mouthed kiss to the slope of her breast, and she gasped a little. Oh well, that would certainly do. She shifted fractionally higher, giving him greater ease of access, and he slid his mouth across her breast until he closed his lips around her nipple. She moaned, the wet heat of his mouth as he licked and suckled, sending sensation cascading through her. Oh oh god, she didn't know how he could always work her up so quickly, just the touch of his mouth to her skin, and she could feel wetness flooding between her thighs.

Almost as if he knew or sensed her thought, his hands swept down her back to her butt and then slid down, until his fingers slipped between her legs, unerringly seeking out her center.

Her cry mingled with his groan. "You are so wet," he mumbled against her breast, his fingers tracing, circling around and finally over the most sensitive part of her.

"Cas-sle," she panted. "I want–please." His oh-so-talented fingers continued to explore, stroking, caressing, his thumb brushing against her just right as one of his fingers just barely slipped inside. Ooh…

She was ready–oh so ready–and she shifted, wriggled until she felt the heat of him against her, almost but not quite where she wanted him.

"Kate." One of his hands cupped her butt, holding her in place, his voice strained. "Protection."

Oh right. She released a breath that was almost a groan before she flung her arm up, her hand scrambling in the dresser of his nightstand where she knew he kept his supply. She closed her fingers around one packet and he grabbed it from her, managing to take care of sheathing himself without dislodging her from her position straddling him.

And then his hands caught her hips, moving her into position, until she could–and did–slide down, taking him into her, their twin groans mingling. Oh god, he felt so good…

"God, you feel so good," he moaned, echoing her thought.

She could only pant in response as her hips began to roll, slow and steady. He rocked his hips up into her, meeting and matching her movements, the pleasure already spiraling higher and higher.

He levered up to close his mouth around her breast again, one of his hands sliding down to touch her where they were joined, and that was enough as she flew over the edge, bliss cascading through her so fast and so intensely that it stole her breath, left her panting and trembling and tingling all over.

She was only vaguely aware of his hips jerking once, twice more, and then he was groaning beneath her with his own climax. Just as she collapsed onto his chest, her face tucking itself into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Mmm, every panting breath she took had his scent filling her nostrils. She could feel his heart thudding against hers and couldn't quite tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began.

Slowly, eventually, she managed to roll herself off of him, feeling him slip out of her, the sensation somehow sending a little aftershock of pleasure tingling through her.

He turned his head and their eyes met and held as they simply lay there quietly for a long moment.

"Hi," she whispered inanely–and no, she didn't know why.

His lips curved slightly. "That was an amazing way to wake up."

She bit her lip, feeling heat creep into her cheeks, ridiculously. Except she belatedly realized that she hadn't exactly planned on this, had really only meant to wake him up so she could leave, only her body–the body that could not seem to get enough of him–had other ideas. "I should probably go," she murmured after a long minute.

"Go?" She could hear a pout in his voice, see the beginnings of it in the way his lips turned down.

"We have a case, remember?" She was reminding herself as well as him. "And I need to shower and change before that."

His lips turned down more definitely and then he heaved a mock sigh. "I suppose I can't make you play hooky."

For the first time in her life, the thought was surprisingly tempting but she quashed down the errant thought. It did make her soften enough to brush a quick kiss against his lips before she managed to push herself upright.

He lay back and didn't even pretend not to be watching her as she forced herself to leave the cozy comfort of his bed (and his arms). She slipped into the restroom and then returned to slip on her clothes. He watched until she put on her shirt, covering up her upper body, before he too got up, disappearing into the bathroom in turn, while she pulled her pants on. It was her turn to watch him when he emerged, still naked, as he pulled on boxers and then shrugged into a robe. She liked the look of him like that too (although, really, was there a single look of his that she didn't like?) He looked big and warm and, well, snuggly, still scruffy, like some sort of sexy teddy bear, which sounded disturbing but then again, she'd never known anyone who could combine being so cute and so sexy at the same time.

"At least, have some coffee before you go?" he offered.

"Yeah, sure," she agreed. It was still early enough.

She paused in his office to retrieve her gun from the safe while he headed out to the kitchen and was already busy with his very complicated-looking coffee machine when she came out to perch on one of the stools at the island. She made a point of watching what he did so she would know how to make coffee, just in case, for future reference. Not that she was assuming she'd be making coffee here a lot–except fine, yes, she was assuming that. She could picture–abruptly wanted–more leisurely mornings at the loft with Castle, mornings when she wouldn't have to leave, could surprise him with coffee in the mornings, maybe drink their first coffees of the day in bed together.

He was setting out mugs and getting out vanilla creamer from the fridge when he commented conversationally, "You know, you should pack a bag, keep some clothes here so you don't need to go through the hassle of going back to your place every morning."

"Why, Castle, I'm touched," she drawled, hiding behind humor to hide the sudden flutter of her heart. "Are you, Mr. Metrosexual, actually offering to give up some space in your closet?" He was only being practical, she told herself, it was no big deal. It wasn't like he was suggesting she move in or anything. But she couldn't help the spurt of nerves, old, ingrained instincts of self-preservation, of independence, rising up inside her because keeping clothes at his place would be another thread tying them together, would make it just that much more complicated if they broke up.

"It'll be a wrench but for you, I'll manage it."

"Well, I'd hate for such a self-sacrificing gesture to go to waste," she joked, sternly trying to calm her abruptly thudding heart. It only made sense, would make things easier for her not to have to do the walk of shame back to her apartment every morning after she stayed over at the loft. It was nothing to get flustered over. Never mind that she and Will hadn't reached the point of actually leaving clothes over at the other's place until they'd been together for more than a month but then again, considering both their erratic schedules, they hadn't spent that many nights together at that point either. And when they'd broken up… she pushed aside the memory of that drawn-out agony, of having to linger in his apartment to pack up her things and then having to watch as he packed up his things from her place.

His lips curved. "As always, you're too generous."

He rounded the island and slipped his arms around her from behind, bending to press his lips to the spot behind her ear then moving on to nuzzle kisses down her neck, the faint scratchiness of his stubble against her skin sending little tingles through her. She felt her tension dissolving on a little hum, relaxing back against him. Her eyes fell closed as she tilted her head to give him greater access, one of her arms coming up to cup his cheek, keep him in place, not that he showed any sign of wanting to move.

They both started when the coffee maker emitted a sharp hissing sound and then he straightened up a little, pressing a last kiss to her hair, before he released her and returned to the kitchen to prepare both their coffees.

She gave him a quick smile of thanks as she accepted her coffee, her eyes fluttering closed as she inhaled the scent of it and then took her first sips. She didn't know how it was, told herself it was ridiculous, entirely irrational, but she could swear that his coffee really did taste different, better, than any coffee she made for herself, whether at the precinct or here–just as the coffee he bought for her every morning did. Of course, here, it was entirely likely that his coffee might just taste better because it was made from some exclusive, top-of-the-line coffee beans but that didn't explain the other coffees.

She opened her eyes to see that Castle was just watching her, his eyes soft, his own coffee untouched. She fought back a blush. "What? You know, staring is still a little creepy."

He blinked and finally lifted his mug to his lips to drink. "Nothing. I was just thinking, I like seeing you here, like this, in the morning."

"Well, play your cards right and you might get to see me here again. You're not that bad to wake up to," she quipped, the light response covering for the flock of butterflies that had taken flight inside her. Oh, absurd, to be reacting like this, practically swooning just from a few simple words–and yet, how could she not?

He laughed. "You're too kind."

As always, it didn't take her long to finish her coffee and then she slid off the stool and turned to leave.

Castle hurried around the island to catch up with her, sliding his arm around her, as he accompanied her to the door, a journey that took longer than it needed to as they both dawdled along the way.

She turned in his arm to face him once they reached the door. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course. Although I might be a little late coming into the precinct since I want to stick around until Alexis gets home from her sleepover."

She kissed his chin. "I figured you would. I'll let you know if anything comes up with the case."

"Good. See you soon."

"See you soon." She gave him another kiss, keeping it brief and closed-mouth since she really did need to be leaving, and then quickly slipped out of his arms and out the door before he could try to draw their parting out longer.

Some time later that morning, Kate had to call up a not inconsiderable amount of will to snap her Detective Beckett facade into place as she walked into the bullpen. She'd found a little smile lingering on her lips without her conscious permission more times than she cared to remember during the course of her shower and quick breakfast in her apartment and she absolutely could not allow such a smile to escape her while at work. They were in the middle of a case, she reminded herself again, deliberately calling to mind the memory of speaking with the victim's brother last night which effectively sobered her.

She had barely finished going through the emails waiting for her that morning when the boys arrived in the precinct in turn, immediately heading towards her.

"Where's Castle?" was Ryan's greeting as he neared.

She shot him a look. "Good morning to you too."

Ryan only grinned. "Good morning, Beckett. Where's Castle?"

She rolled her eyes. "He had some things to take care of this morning so he said he'd be in a little late." She was not going to mention Alexis's sleepover because that would be announcing that the loft had been empty last night and she had no intention of opening herself up to the boys' teasing. Which, she realized a moment later, had been a nice attempt but fruitless.

"And how was your night?" Esposito asked, not at all casually. "Did you… enjoy it?"

She threw him a narrow-eyed look. "It was fine," she answered repressively. "Do you guys have anything to report on the case or are you just here to give me a hard time?"

The boys made a show of exchanging looks before Espo answered, "Not much we can do yet. The victim's phone and financials haven't arrived. It's a little too early to start calling up the victim's co-workers since it is a Saturday and I'm assuming Perlmutter hasn't contacted you yet about his findings."

Damn it, the boys had something of a point–not that she was about to admit it. "You can at least try to start contacting his colleagues. Sitting around and waiting isn't going to help anyone, least of all the victim. And I could always tell the Captain that you're more interested in gossiping than in solving the case."

It was a bluff, of course, as she wouldn't report such a thing to the Captain and even if she did, the Captain wasn't likely to act on it since he knew the boys too well and made his own judgment calls when it came to teams. The boys knew it too but it did have the benefit of communicating how unamused she was.

Ryan pretended to sigh before he retreated.

"We're on it, Beckett," Espo conceded with a bit of a grimace before he too returned to his desk.

She too returned to work, or at least what work she could do at this stage, which wasn't all that much. At least, before she started to feel too impatient with wasting time, Perlmutter sent an email with his autopsy report, in keeping with his usual ways of communicating via email to minimize human interaction. By now, she'd worked with him enough to know that he only called or more unusually, asked her to come into the ME's office when he had something unusual to tell her or something specific he needed to show her. If his autopsy report revealed nothing new or interesting, he emailed it. (Lanie, by contrast, preferred in-person visits for her to pass on information.)

As she'd expected, the final autopsy report didn't have any surprises from what they already knew. Evan Hardesty had been beaten, consistent with having been punched and kicked, and died from blunt force trauma to the head caused by the broken brick they'd found alongside him. There were no defensive wounds so it appeared he had not been given a chance to fight back. His stomach contents indicated that he had just eaten dinner, very possibly at the restaurant he'd been found behind, and his blood alcohol content showed he'd had a glass or so of wine with dinner, but not enough to impair him in any way. Otherwise, there was no trace of any illegal substances and nothing else unusual to report.

Castle arrived late morning, bearing two coffees as usual, and was followed shortly afterwards by the arrival of the victim's phone records which provided the first real step forward in the investigation as it gave them the name and phone number for the woman who had been the last one to see him alive, who turned out to be a Helen Lorimer.

She called Helen Lorimer and asked her to come into the precinct at her earliest convenience, saying only that she wanted to talk to her about Evan Hardesty. Kate did not break the news of Hardesty's murder over the phone as it never seemed like a fitting thing to do, even if it didn't appear that Helen had known Hardesty all that well. The news would still be a shock and she also wanted to observe Helen's reaction. From her voice, Helen sounded a little confused and wary, none of which were unusual reactions, but otherwise unsuspecting and agreed to come into the precinct within the hour.

Helen proved to be a pretty, petite brunette, one of those very feminine-looking women who made most men leap to open doors for her and protect her. The sort of woman that tended to make Kate feel as if she herself might be some sort of giant alien species since Kate was not only much taller but also not generally the sort of woman who immediately roused anyone's protective instincts, even if she would have wanted to, which she didn't.

She briefly introduced Castle and then gently broke the news about Hardesty's death to Helen, watching as Helen gasped and paled sharply.

"I don't–I don't understand," Helen stammered a little. "I just–saw him last night. He was fine. I don't–what happened? Was it an accident?"

"I'm sorry but it looks like Mr. Hardesty was murdered."

She wouldn't have thought it possible but Helen paled even more at the harsh word. She forged on. "We understand that you had dinner with him yesterday and that's why we wanted to talk to you, to see if you remember or noticed anything unusual. Did his mood seem okay? Did he mention having any plans after dinner?"

Helen gave halting, uncertain answers that she hadn't known Hardesty very well, it was only their second date after being introduced by mutual friends at a dinner to celebrate another friend's birthday, and she hadn't noticed anything unusual. Her answers were what Kate expected but something in Helen's demeanor, manner, was setting off little niggles of something, her instincts prodding, and then she realized what it was.

It was the way Helen was looking at Castle. Kate was used to seeing the women they spoke to giving Castle appreciative looks, some more overtly flirtatious than others, and had become accustomed to ignoring them. Helen's glances at Castle were quick, almost sidelong, and frequent, and it took her a minute before it registered that Helen wasn't looking at Castle out of any sort of appreciation of him as a good-looking man but out of fear. It was nervousness, the way her eyes darted and then skittered away from him. Something she hadn't yet seen in a woman's reaction to Castle but she'd seen similar looks before in other women in different situations to know what it meant and felt a little chill inside her.

"Castle," she waited until Helen's latest, flustered response had ended, before speaking up, "why don't you go check with Esposito to see if the financials have arrived?"

He glanced at her in surprise. "But–"

She shifted her arm enough to nudge him as subtly as she could with her elbow, meeting his eyes and tilting her head very slightly in Helen's direction. She wasn't sure if he understood or saw what she'd noticed about Helen but figured he had because he swallowed whatever protest he'd been about to make and answered, "Sure, whatever you say, Detective," so obediently it was almost submissive, and promptly left the conference room.

Helen turned her eyes back from watching Castle leave with surprise visible in her expression. "He listened to you."

Kate bit back an automatic dry comment about Castle only listening when it suited him or something to that effect and instead said, "He's a consultant, not a cop." Which was true but didn't exactly do justice to his role either but it was a necessary little prevarication.

Kate leaned forward, lowering some of her usual Detective Beckett shield to make this less an interrogation by a cop and more a woman-to-woman talk, her tone softening, "I couldn't help but notice, you seemed a little tense with Castle around. I'm sorry but I have to ask about your past relationships. Is there someone–an ex–you might be worried about?"

Helen blinked too rapidly and then answered, "I… don't know what you mean," but the slight unsteadiness of her tone, her averted eyes, revealed the truth.

Kate waited for a long minute and then said, quietly, "From all we've learned about him, Evan Hardesty sounds like a perfectly nice, decent man. There are no obvious reasons we've found to explain why anyone would wish him harm. Is that what you thought too?"

Helen nodded. "Oh, yes, he was nice. My friend, Ashley, the one who introduced us, said she's known him for years because he was college friends with her brother and she said he's a good guy."

"It sounds like Evan deserved a lot better than he got, beaten and left to die, surrounded by garbage."

Helen sucked in a breath and then after a moment, she broke. "I… my ex… but I can't imagine, I don't think… I don't know if he could do this or how he could know about Evan…"

"That will be for us to find out. Tell me about this ex," Kate coaxed gently.

It took what seemed like hours but slowly, in fits and starts, Helen told the story, familiar in rough outlines from ones Kate had heard before and she limited her responses to encouraging hums.

Helen had met a rich, handsome, sophisticated man last year and been swept off her feet by his attentiveness, his compliments, the roses he bought her, the fancy dates to shows and expensive restaurants with private, hired cars. (Kate couldn't help a small inward wince at that detail, the echo of her own date with Castle just the night before vaguely disturbing.) They had moved in together and it was within a few months that things slowly, insidiously, started to shift. He changed her image, persuaded her to dye her hair blonde, picked out her clothes, starting with seemingly innocuous queries like "are you sure you want to wear that?" that slowly started to chip away at her confidence. He'd made it hard and then impossible for her to see her own friends, questioned her movements, accused her of flirting with any man she so much as exchanged greetings with.

By this point, Helen was in tears. Kate inwardly flinched. There were times she hated her job, hated what she had to do for her job–it seemed like cruelty to make Helen go on–but she did need to know. "Did he hit you?"

The way Helen flinched a little, averting her eyes, was answer enough. Kate inwardly steeled herself to gently draw out from Helen a little more information. Thankfully, it sounded like it had only happened a few times (still a few times too many but Kate pushed aside her own anger), back-handed slaps, which, considering Helen's petite stature, would almost certainly have knocked her down. Until the day Helen had run into an old friend of hers, entirely by chance, and the old friend had provided the impetus for Helen to leave during the day when he was at work, packing only one bag but leaving the rest of her belongings–most of which he had chosen or given her–behind as well as a note, telling him she was leaving and not to contact her.

She had changed her cell phone number, stayed with friends in the outer boroughs for more than a month, and only recently moved into an apartment of her own, far away from the neighborhoods that she knew he usually frequented. She had agreed to go on a date with Evan Hardesty because her friend had persuaded her it was time for her to date again.

Kate listened to this quietly, mentally revising her estimation of Helen's strength. Appearances notwithstanding, it was clear Helen Lorimer had her own brand of strength and courage that had, and would, serve her in good stead. She promised Helen solemnly that her name would not be mentioned at all if they ended up speaking with this ex–Jared Wisnowski. She asked for the name and contact info of the mutual friend who had introduced Helen to Evan Hardesty, for confirmation (not really necessary but it would provide a level of truth to tell the scumbag Wisnowski that they had other sources to hear about him). And then finally, she walked Helen to the elevator, recommending that if possible, Helen stay with a friend for the next few days.

She returned to her desk slowly, feeling an odd combination of drained and enraged at the same time, and felt some of her tension ease a little as she found that Castle had already provided a fresh cup of coffee.

"I figured you could use it after that intense talk with Helen Lorimer," he offered.

She managed a faint smile, although even a moment ago, she could not have imagined smiling. "Good call. Thanks."

"What did she tell you?" he asked mildly although she knew he had to be burning with curiosity.

She took a sip of her coffee and then sighed as she pushed herself to her feet again, keeping her coffee in hand. "Come on. The boys need to hear this too and I don't want to tell this story twice."

He followed her into the conference room where the boys were poring through Evan Hardesty's financials.

"We have a new angle," she told them, before giving a brief summary of Helen's story, watching as their expressions grew progressively grimmer. Fortunately, she didn't need to include any details. The boys and, she was sure, Castle too, were familiar enough with such stories to fill in the gaps on their own. "That was just over three months ago," she finished, telling them about Helen's leaving Wisnowski. "We don't know if or how he might have heard that Helen was starting to date again but–"

"But the city's not that big," Castle finished for her, darkly. "Easy to imagine how he would hear, friend of a friend, idle gossip, social media. And if he's had three months to stew over her leaving…"

"It wouldn't take much to set him off," Espo went on. "And we know that the killer was angry. Angry and violent, which sounds like this scumbag all right."

"Exactly," she agreed. She knew she was biased, which she tried not to be in working on cases, but for once decided she was okay with the fact that she really, really wanted this Wisnowski to be guilty because arresting him and putting him away for murder would be very satisfying. "So, unless you two have found anything interesting in the financials, I say put a pin in it for now and go talk to Ashley Vincenzo, the mutual friend of Helen's and Evan Hardesty's, to get confirmation of Helen's story and another source to protect Helen. Castle and I will dig deeper into this Wisnowski, see if we can find any other threads connecting him to the victim, before we bring him in."

Esposite bared his teeth in a not-at-all-humorous smile. "Bringing that piece of shit in will be an absolute pleasure."

With that, the boys decamped, leaving her and Castle alone in the conference room.

"That's why you sent me out of the room," he observed after a moment.

"Yeah. I realized she was nervous because of you."

"I was wondering but people are often nervous talking to cops so I wasn't sure and," he made a rueful face, "I don't tend to think of myself as being scary."

Unbidden, the mental image of him in his robe from earlier that morning, all scruffy and adorable, flashed into her mind, some welcome warmth flickering inside her at the memory. On impulse, she reached out to place her hand on top of his. "You're not but Helen has more reason than most to distrust all men."

"Yeah," he sighed. "After hearing about things like this, I always want to shut Alexis up in a convent with ten-foot-high walls. Or at the very least, forbid her from ever dating."

"You can't protect her from life, you know that. All you can do is be there for her."

He made a face. "I know but it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, you don't have to like it," she agreed. "No one does." She pressed his hand. "Come on, Castle. We have work to do if we're going to bring Wisnowski in."

~To be continued…~

A/N 2: I admit that the short bit of smut to start this chapter is gratuitous and wasn't even planned but Beckett insisted. I assume no one minds….

Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers, especially during this time when the site is being so uncooperative.