Because Mom and Dad can't have all the fun. Just most. ;)

Would you please just kick my ass?

"Is this the place?" Ryan asked, looking through the windshield of the parked car at the dive bar across the street.

"This is it," Esposito confirmed, double-checking his notebook. "Reggie's Tavern. This is where the suspect claims he was the night of the murder."

"Not one of New York's finer establishments," Ryan observed. The windows were filled with faded posters promising music from cover bands that had long since broken up, the sidewalk was littered with trash and puddles of don't-ask-what, and a buzzing sign over the door currently read "Reggi 's vern" in half-hearted neon. "At least it seems quiet tonight."

"Let's hope it stays that way long enough for us to get what we came for," said Esposito, and they both got out of the car and stepped out of sight down the nearest alley.

Ryan went over the facts. "Carlson claims he was here from 9 until close last night, and his buddies confirmed his alibi when Beckett came calling earlier. They swear he was part of the knockdown, drag-out, all-bar fight that went down, and that's where he got his injuries."

"But Beckett and Castle are convinced he's our killer, so if he wasn't really here, we need to make his buddies roll over on him," Espo finished. Both detectives wore street clothes, but that wouldn't be quite enough cover for this mission.

"Here's what I'm thinking," Espo continued. "I'll go in as a very disgruntled member of Los Machetes and demand to know where Carlson is. I'll say someone fingered him as the guy who planted a black eye on me last night when my street brothers weren't around to back me up. If his friends want to help him keep all his parts attached, they'll fess up if he wasn't really there."

"Won't they just lie to save his fingers? How will that help us?"

"Not a problem," answered Esposito. "I'll throw in a little bonus threat to come after them next if I find out they're lying. Gangs with machetes are crazy effective when it comes to persuasion. All I need is a black eye."

Ryan still looked doubtful, but his partner was confident. "C'mon, just go with it. It's a good plan, it'll work."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Ryan.

"Yeah I'm sure," said Esposito with the bravado of a soldier preparing for battle. "Let's roll." He squared his shoulders, set his chin, and waited. Ryan looked uneasy.

His partner grew impatient. "C'mon, bro, we haven't got all night. And we'll need to wait at least a few hours for it to show up before I can go in."

"Okay, okay," Ryan said. He set his feet in a fighting stance, pivoted back, and brought his fist to his shoulder. He took a deep breath and—

"Can't we just use makeup?"

"Damn it, man!" Esposito exclaimed, and threw up his hands. "Would you please just kick my ass? I need real damage or they won't buy it."

"I'm sorry, okay? It just feels weird to hit someone out of the blue. Especially my own partner."

"You didn't have a problem last time," mumbled Esposito under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

Espo narrowed his eyes and spoke up. "Last time. When you ratted me and Beckett out to Gates. You didn't seem to have any trouble smacking me down then. I guess it's easier to do behind my back."

Ryan's mouth tightened. "I knew it! I knew you were still mad. You told me you understood. You said we were cool now. Beckett thanked me for saving her life!"

"Yeah, so?"

"So what is your problem?"

"I don't have one!" By this point, both men were yelling.

"Fine!"

"So man up and hit me!"

"Fine!" Ryan drew back and punched his partner square in the eye.

Esposito staggered back, recovered, and with a grim smile he said, "Not bad."

Then he punched him back.

Ryan was caught off guard and landed square on his ass. It only took a moment for him to get his feet under him, and with his center of gravity held low, he tackled Esposito, who fell to the ground with a surprised grunt.

From there the fight devolved into a full-fledged back alley brawl. No words were exchanged— nothing intelligible, anyway— but if Castle had witnessed it, he could have written an entire chapter on what they were not saying. After several minutes of grappling, punching, pinning and rolling, of fists, knees and elbows, both men realized that the pent-up remains of their anger and betrayal were spent. Espo loosened the headlock he had on Ryan, and Ryan slowed his kidney punches until they stopped entirely. They both finally collapsed onto the curb, sitting side-by-side with only the sounds of their labored breathing. Ironically, it was the first time since that fateful day in May that the silence did not feel strained.

Esposito tenderly palpated the swollen tissue around his left eye. He also ran his tongue over his split bottom lip.

"This should be convincing," he deadpanned.

Ryan shot him a sideways glance and cracked a smile. "Yeah, that should do it."

"It'll need a little time to look good and bruised. Wanna go find some chili fries while we wait?"

"Sure. You can help me figure out how to explain to Jenny why I'll look like the bad end of a bar fight for date night tomorrow." Ryan stood and offered his partner a hand up, bloody knuckles and all. After a moment of eye contact that contained a second chapter, Espo took it.

Castle looked over the murder board one more time and suppressed a yawn. He and Beckett were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the edge of a nearby desk, and she was subtly leaning into him. He brought his hand up to absentmindedly massage her neck at the base of her skull, which was not so subtle, but it was almost midnight, and Gates was gone. Besides, it felt too good to stop him for the sake of professionalism when the bullpen was almost deserted.

Castle reviewed the state of the case. "So Carlson has a solid motive, Lanie's findings indicate our vic was stabbed by someone of his height and weight, and the timeline works out if his alibi is phony. What's keeping Ryan and Esposito?"

Kate closed her eyes and instinctively rolled her head back toward his hand. "They checked in about an hour ago to say they were finally heading into Reggie's. They had some sort of plan they didn't want to tell me about, so who knows."

"That sounds ominous."

"Well, you aren't with them, so at least they probably won't do anything too...stupid..." Beckett had turned her head toward the sound of the elevator arriving, and she trailed off at the sight that greeted her.

Esposito and Ryan were leading Mr. Carlson towards them in handcuffs. The suspect was unharmed, but the detectives looked like hell: black eyes, cut lips, and clothes that looked like they had shared a dryer cycle with a dead squirrel. The two men hadn't looked so happy in months.

Espo slapped Ryan on the the back (he winced) and turned to grin triumphantly at Castle and Beckett. "So guess whose alibi fell apart upon further examination?"

"What was the plan," asked Castle, "beat yourselves up until he confessed?"

"It was brilliant!" Ryan gushed. "Javi totally had this guy's buddies believing that a machete-wielding gangbanger would cut off his hands if he'd actualy been part of the fight at Reggie's last night. All we had to do was go pick him up at home."

"I wouldn't say brilliant— but if you insist," Esposito added with a poor attempt at humility. "We just need to ask Mr. Carlson here if he'd like to revise his statement before we book him. Care to do the honors, boss?"

Carlson spoke up for the first time. "Yes, please, save me from another hour of commercial-free bromance."

Beckett ignored the prisoner's comments. "Sure, Espo, I'll be right there." The battered detectives led the man in for questioning, laughing and recapping the evening all the way.

Beckett and Castle exchanged raised eyebrows. "Looks like the boys finally made up," he commented.

"Looks like it."

After a moment, Castle ventured, "Hey, Beckett?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember that time we had a big fight, then we had lots of fantastic make-up sex afterwards?"

"That time two days ago?" Her lips quirked in a small I'm-humoring-Castle smile. "Yeah..."

"That option works for me. For future making-up reference, let's stick with that one."

"Agreed."

A/N: You Criminal Minds fans may have noticed that yes, I totally stole a fictional gang from CM.