Later that night, Richard Castle sat in front of his computer, typing away. He had arrived home to a hot dinner and a mother and daughter who, while relieved to see him, were both noticeably put off by his refusal to discuss the conclusion of the case. Rick believed, or rather hoped, that he'd managed to placate them with his half-truth of a very long day. At any rate, they'd stopped asking questions and instead switched to relating the events of their own days. Now, two hours later, they'd both gone to bed and he'd retreated to his office to process the events of the day the only way he knew how: by writing about it.

Yes, the story would never be published. In fact, to avoid the wrath of the US government, he wouldn't even bother saving the file. But his thoughts careened through his head at breakneck speed, and he knew sleep wouldn't come until he imposed some order in his mind.

"Dad?"

"Hey pumpkin," Rick looked up from the screen to find his daughter leaning against the doorframe. "What are you still doing up?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Alexis started walking toward him, "normally when you and Beckett solve a case you come home and can't stop talking about it. You share every detail of the takedown and every little bit of information about the guy's motive. But tonight," she started walking around the desk and Rick hurriedly minimized the document, "you come home looking like you've been through the wringer and the only information we get is that you caught the guy. That's it. Then once you think we're asleep you start writing something that I'm not allowed to even read." She looked pointedly at the laptop. "What's going on?"

Rick let out a sigh and dropped his head. "I'm sorry sweetie," he finally said, raising his head back up. "I want to tell you, believe me. It's killing me to not tell you. But I could go to jail if I say anything." Or worse, he thought.

Alexis's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Since when did the NYPD care so much about nondisclosure?"

"They don't." Taking another deep breath, Rick made a decision. "Our suspect was in trouble with the federal government." His daughter's eyes widened, and he knew she understood. Good girl.

"So why are you writing about it?" she asked after several moments.

"Just trying to get my thoughts in order." He glanced at the computer and looked back at Alexis. "You should get some sleep."

Her eyes narrowed slightly at the change of subject, but a large yawn destroyed the effect. "Okay," she said, smiling sheepishly. "But you should, too."

"In a few minutes," he promised. "Now scoot." Alexis leaned over and placed a kiss on his head before making her way back out of the office. Rick waited until she was in the living room before re-opening the document and leaning forward to read what he'd written so far. He'd covered pretty much everything except the final conversation with Colonel Carter, and reading it back now he had to shake his head. Who would have thought when he decided to shadow an NYPD Homicide detective he'd wind up with notes that read like something out of the science fiction section?

Stifling a yawn, Rick clicked on the red X at the top of the screen. Do you want to save this file? The author paused with the cursor hovering over the "No" button. If no one ever saw the file, then technically he wasn't breaking the terms of the nondisclosure agreement….

Why risk it, though? It had been fun to relive the whole experience in writing it, but Rick was not sorry to click that "No" and shut off the computer. After all, he could always use the terms of the nondisclosure agreement as an excuse to get Beckett alone….

THE END

Author's Note: My thanks to all of you who have stuck with this story over the last two years (yikes!). I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.