I was approached last week by a reader who has some creative ideas of her own but is still finding her voice. So she placed a few of her ideas in my hands, and entrusted me to bring them to life. I was humbled. I do beg her forgiveness, as I adapted one of them to be more 'humorous' than 'dark'. This is for you, CastleandBeckett13. I wanted to get this out before the finale, but, alas, life got in the way. Assume it takes place post "Undead Again" but pre "Always"
Rick Castle approached the desk of his (once again) muse. The night she'd told him that her wall was about to come down, he was so suffused with hope that a structure within him fell as well. The dam that was holding back his creative juices, that barrier built with the pieces of his shattered dreams, cemented with bitter betrayal, simply crumbled into tiny fragments over which the ideas flowed like a happy babbling brook.
She was scowling at her monitor so intently that he was a little afraid for it. He knew that look all too well. It said 'Be gone from my life.' Its only insurance policy was the fact that it was an essential tool for Beckett's job. Well, that, and the fact that Captain Gates might view a destructive temper tantrum as just cause for sticking her in paperwork hell.
"Good morning," he offered gently, placing her customary coffee beside her elbow before taking his seat. She took a sip and closed her eyes as she swallowed, the furrow between her brows easing. "Passport to your happy place?" he teased.
She opened her eyes and glared at her screen again. "Sadly I can't stay. Stupid frickin' department policies. I swear, these people lay awake at night thinking of new ways to torture me."
"I know the feeling," Castle quipped, chancing a flirtatious grin. He'd always prided himself on being her comic relief, but this time the joke fell flat. "Sorry," he told her stony countenance. "You were saying?"
"I have to take a polygraph test," she spat.
"What? Why?" he demanded.
"Like I said, policy. Apparently it's so we can fully understand the 'stress that it subjects suspects to'," she huffed, making air quotes with her fingers. "Touchy feely bullcrap," she muttered, just loud enough for her partner to hear, had he been paying attention.
Rick, however, was off in his own mind. This was a development that interested him greatly. He knew she wasn't a perfect liar. Once her secret had come out that her claim of memory loss was false, he thought back and realized that the clues had been there all along, in her avoidance. He understood now, though, and he knew it had cost her a lot to admit, even indirectly, that she had been scared. He wasn't about to dwell on that issue any longer. No, there were other ways in which this situation might be useful to him.
The date of the test was a surprise to Beckett but not so much to her partner and the rest of their team, all of whom had used less-than-ethical resources to be sure to find themselves in the right place at the right time. Three men stood side-by-side in the observation room that offered a view into Interrogation 3. Each one fought the urge to cackle gleefully as they watched their colleague in her seat, having electrodes attached. Thanks to their prior arrangements, one of the cameras was positioned in the perfect angle to capture the image of the trace line on the paper.
The female examiner attached the elastic band around Kate's ribcage before taking her seat. A department representative looked on.
"First we'll ask a few baseline questions. Please answer only with 'yes' or 'no'." Kate nodded her understanding.
"Look at the way her lips are pressed together," Ryan commented. "Man, she's really holding back." Castle nodded his agreement.
"Bro, what are you doing watching her lips?" Esposito asked, cuffing him on the back of the head.
A tinny voice issued through the speakers, re-directing their attention. "Is your name Katherine Beckett?" the examiner asked.
"Yes," Kate responded. Few people could load that much irritation into a word with only one syllable.
"Are you currently a detective with the NYPD?" Again, the answer was in the affirmative. After a few more basic questions, the examiner said "For the next three questions, please respond with 'No'. Do you understand?"
"No," Kate replied, a glint in her eye.
"That was not one of the test questions, Detective," the representative interjected.
"Does the sum of two and two equal four? Does Christmas Day fall on December twenty-fifth? Is the year two thousand and twelve?" the examiner droned.
Kate dutifully answered in the negative. The examiner watched the wire thin pen twitch across the paper. On the other side of the window, the guys watched it too.
"Let the games begin," Castle murmured.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. I'm just interested. I've never seen one of these before."
The examiner consulted her list of questions. "Have you, Detective Beckett, ever knowingly misappropriated office supplies?"
Beckett's eyes flashed with irritation. "No, but make sure to ask the boys about their paper football tournament."
"So cold," Ryan whispered.
"Please confine your answers to yes or no, Detective."
"Have you ever perjured yourself in a courtroom to ensure the conviction of a suspect?"
"NO."
"These had better be standardized questions," Esposito murmured. "No one had better be questioning her integrity." Castle smiled at his loyalty.
"Have you, Detective Beckett, had intimate relations with any member of the NYPD?"
"That is none of your damned business!"
"Remember, this is meant to provide a full understanding of the stresses a suspect experiences. Please simply answer yes or no."
"Yes," she sighed.
"Has there been more than one relationship?"
"No."
"Was this individual partnered with you at the time?"
Kate smirked. "You don't understand how intimate relations work, do you?"
"Atta girl," Castle murmured.
"Detective, you are dangerously close to non-compliance with this exercise, which may be viewed as insubordination," the representative warned.
"Can you ask the question again," Kate retorted, unruffled.
"Have you had sexual relations with your NYPD partner."
They watched her take a breath before responding.
"No," she replied.
"Damn," Ryan muttered. "We were so sure, too."
Esposito looked at the trace of the line. "That's…an inconclusive result. Somehow she's equivocating."
They left the room, unsatisfied.
Castle watched them go. "There's a big difference between Intimate and Sexual, boys," he said to the empty room. "When you grow up you'll understand that."
"Have you had more that forty sexual partners?"
"Sonofabitch, you've gotta be kidding."
"That is not a yes or no answer."
Kate finally broke the careful eye contact she'd maintained with the people in the room to glare at the mirror.
"No," she answered.
"More than thirty?"
"No."
"More than twenty?"
"Yes."
"More than twenty five?"
"No."
"Thank you, Detective, that will be all."
"Is he next?" she asked, pointing at the mirror. Dead at him, actually. Hard to know if that was luck or her innate sense.
"To whom would you be referring?"
"My partner, Richard Castle."
"Mr. Castle is not an employee of the NYPD."
"Not technically, but he has all of the same access, is at my side for interrogations and everything else. Except the paperwork," she muttered. "Besides, he's here doing research. I think this would be a valuable experience for him." She raised an eyebrow at the representative, who nodded.
Behind the glass, Castle went pale. "Oh, shit."
She spoke to the glass with a feline smile. "Congratulations, Castle, you got my number. Now it's my turn to get some answers."
When I started this, I intended it as a one shot, but Beckett insisted that I let Castle have a turn in the hot seat. Please be so kind as to leave a review, alerts and favorites are flattering but they don't tell me exactly what I'm doing right.