Something in Castle's biology has shifted since he's started working with Beckett -- he's learned to sleep like a cop. Scraps of rest, only when absolutely necessary, with a hair-trigger wake-up reflex.

The pressure of the blanket is slight, but it pulls him from sleep all the same, and when he feels a warm presence beside him he chooses not to open his eyes. The weight of her is beside him, her constant gravity keeping him anchored, and he takes in a breath of her perfume. Slowly, he hinges his jaw back together.

With his eyes closed: "I could smell you coming, Clarice..."