.
'Loud voices calling for revenge
Cold metal triggers on their fingertips
The midnight streets are running red
Bloody City, Bloody City, Bloody City
x
Everything was stark white outside her window - if not for an occasional flock of birds curious enough to join the plane on its journey, making of the bird of steel and iron their newly found companion. Kate Beckett cast a swift sideways glance to her own companion of flight, whom she would gladly ditch; the stout, and bulky man crushing her against the window as he snored awfully loudly, his greasy face resting on the rounded bone of her shoulder. Her mouth twisted with something close to disgust as she looked away, the thin skin between her eyebrows pinched. So much for last minute tickets. She hoped it would be worth it, it had to be.
She tried to ignore the man currently drooling all over her, her eyes directed back to the clouds that started dissipating to reveal a wide sea of blue. Chewing on the inside of her lip, she let out a sigh as her fingers flexed around the letter Royce had written for her, vowed to herself she would only read it once she had the bastard behind bars.
The call had come sometime around 2am, and it had hit her like a blow, brutal, and sudden, so sudden.
The moment she put a foot outside of her cruiser, she felt it - the heavy, suffocating atmosphere hanging in the air - or perhaps just over her. The place still crowded with uniforms, the too bright yellow tapes, the otherwise stillness all conspiring against her - her defenses surging to the bait. The erratic pounding of her heart bounced against the paper-thin walls of her inner ear as she strode toward Esposito, and Montgomery as they spoke - a shadow of their own painted all over their faces. They looked at her as if expecting her to break, and she almost did there, and then. "Turn around, go back home, and let me handle this". But instead, she took a short intake of breath, her hands shaking as she walked away from them and swung the yellow tape high above her head in a jerky move.
The sight of her former training officer rooted her legs to the ground, the hitch in her breath finding an out through her convulsing throat in a croak that she smothered behind her hand. Vicious tears prickling in the corners of her eyes, and pooling there. All of a sudden, she lost all sense of her surroundings; the light, and fresh breeze that had tickled the skin at her nape gone, and replaced by a harsh stifling air that compelled her to zip her coat open so she could breathe - her own vision tunneling until he was the only form her eyes were able to latch on. She was merely aware of Lanie behind her, until the woman laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, honey." She ducked her head, not knowing what to say- how to react; contradictory winds spiraling inside her into a raging whirlwind of emotions.
He had betrayed her. He had looked at her in the eye, and lied as if she had never meant anything to him- she probably hadn't. Perhaps she had always been that desperate, and reckless kid in his eyes. Thirsty for revenge, and throwing all caution to the wind. But, he had been her savior, a long time ago. She had been drowning into her own illusions, her fragile and misplaced ambitions life-threatening, and self-destructive. She had been so young, and too easy to impress, and he had been the dry land she'd been looking for. He had been her friend, and she was tired of losing the people she loved
She walked to the lifeless shell of a man, her legs struggling to hold her dead weight. A man she could barely recognize as he laid there face down. She crouched slowly with measurable, shuddering breaths, and let her eyes run over him softly, a clad finger grazing his hair in a last goodbye.
The morning after, Montgomery ordered her to go home the minute she stormed into his office ready for battle - because she knew what was gonna happen, and she wouldn't have it. Not this time, not for this. His eyes were warm, and kind but firm as he voiced the order. "Absolutely not, this is too close to you. I am not sending you in LA. .You're going home." If anything, it triggered something in her, fierce and borderline childish, her blinders falling into place as she nodded away at his dismissal with a rigid set of her jaw. Then, she took flight; grabbed her leather jacket from her chair and flung it over her shoulder, headed for the elevator with stiff, calculated steps, long waves of brown bouncing on her shoulder blades in sync with each step.
She could feel all eyes on her.
But, he let her go, because of course he had seen it coming, probably only had given her an out before she could spiral down the drain. One she didn't - and had never taken. She wasn't stupid, albeit perhaps reckless and bullheaded, and he knew that. Though, he didn't need to know that the only reason she back to her place was to grab a duffel back with a weeks worth of -light- clothes and the bare minimum necessary to blend in before she fled to the airport.
And here she was, crushed between a stranger, and a window, on a plane to Los Angeles - alone, with only her backup piece, and a badge that held no power there.
She first headed to her hotel on Ventura Boulevard so she could change - she couldn't lay under the radar looking like a cop. Luckily, she had planned everything even in her rush. The sun was harsh on her skin, the light hard on her eyes, but at least she had picked light enough outfits that still wouldn't get in the way of a bit of action.
A few hours later, she ended up in front of Violet Young's house in Beverly Hills. Royce had apparently been helping her, and she was nowhere to be found. Whatever it was about, she could be the key. She might not be, but she couldn't not look into it. Beckett looked around the property, watched for any sign that Violet could be home; except for her own rental car, there were no vehicles, from what she could see through the large windows, there was no one in. It was enough proof for her.
Rounding back to the door, she bent as she took a pin out of her pocket, and worked at the lock with defty fingers, felt more than heard it give way, her lips quirking up into a victorious smile.
"You tried knocking?" The snarky voice came from nowhere, her smile falling as she swore under her breath, her body frozen on the spot.
Shit. Rookie move, shit.
Slowly, she angled her face to glimpse at who whoever that was. Figure out how she could play this.
Fuck. Shit.
Her skilled eyes located the badge at his hip in a heartbeat, she was screwed. The tall, and broad guy was staring at her - or rather, at one particular part of her that just so happened to be jutting out, his eyes flicking from her ass, and up to her eyes with a too-smart arched eyebrow, and a smirk.
Oh for fuck's sake. She straightened up, and turned on her heels, raising her hands in the air as he still regarded her silently with his arms crossed on his chest; his forearms so thick, and strong that the navy blue of his summer jacket strained around it- Fuck.
He seemed to enjoy seeing her make a fool of herself, his eyes (so blue that she could see even from here) sparkling with a playful glint. He looked so pleased, she couldn't take anymore of this.
"Are you gonna arrest me, or are we gonna stand here all day?"
He laughed. She glared, a fierce thing that he was sure worked on the toughest scumbags. She was cute, but he wasn't in the least impressed, and he let it show.
Richard Castle, LAPD, considered himself very lucky, today. Of all the breaking and enterings he had been on in the past , this just had to be the best one yet. He had received a call from a neighbor who had claimed she'd thought she'd seen someone walk around a house multiple times in a very suspicious way. Today had been surprisingly calm so far, and he had gladly swapped hours of paperwork for a little trip in Beverly Hills.
She really hadn't been sly about it, he had seen through her little game from miles away - it'd been sloppy, and somehow, he could see on her face that she wasn't used to that. Of course she wasn't.
She'd caught him staring at her ass, but he honestly didn't feel sorry. It'd just been...there, and he was a little bit sad when she stood up, and turned to face him. Although, her face was worth it; high defined cheekbones, a sharp jaw he almost longed to feel, a long cascade of warm chestnut waves that fell past her armpits in enticing waves, large eyes that were currently spitting fire. If he didn't know better, he would think she was a model straight out of a magazine, or perhaps even a local actress. But he did know. He knew who she was, had received a second call even more interesting, one he fully intended on keeping to himself - for now.
Had he not known, he probably wouldn't have told, even if she definitely knew what she was doing. She had a smartly put outfit that screamed vacation time, but something in her eyes was telling him more, probably too much. Something shifty, and eager.
She was insanely gorgeous; the never-ending line of her legs elongated by the summer platform shoes, her ass tightly snug into chinos he couldn't tell the color of (really, how could he have resisted?), the thin and long creamy summer jacket that cascaded down her figure, and that flashy blue top that allowed just the right amount of cleavage - and he was staring, again.
He blinked and recovered quickly, his smug grin back in place. "Arrest you. I don't know about that." He saw her eyes flash with surprise, her eyes looking around as though looking for a camera. A laugh almost bubbled out of him, but he cleared his throat to cover it. Cute, and funny - a woman after his own heart.
"You don't know?" She asked with contempt, her eyes narrowing at him. He liked how expressive her face was, it encouraged him to keep the game on. But he had to be careful, she was good. She would see through him soon enough.
"I thought I heard screaming inside, didn't you?" He said casually, craning his neck to take a look behind her, the door just barely pushed open. Her brows furrowed in confusion, and her mouth fell open.
"I- ah-"
"I think we should go in. You know, just to make sure," he said as he walked toward, and past her with a serious face, all traces of a smile wiped out as if it'd never been there. He didn't withdraw his weapon, didn't really need to. But, he knew a way that would push her to blow her own cover.
"You're serious." She dead panned, stepping aside as he pushed the door wide open, saw her throw her hands in the corner of his eyes.
"Very. Behind me."
"Yeah, right," she snorted, both her eyebrows shooting up at him. He didn't miss the slight quirk at the corners of her lips, though she schooled it fairly quickly. Oh he liked her.
And.
"You're a civilian, you've got to-"
"I'm not," she spat out as if he had hurt her pride. As if the idea alone of being a mere civilian was a concept she couldn't assimilated herself with.
He spun on his heels, her face devoid of any emotion. He raised a triumphant eyebrow at her, let a slow smirk play along his lips. Gotcha.
She stared at him for a moment, a fraction of second before her eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "You know who I am, don't you?"
"Oh that I do, Detective Kate Beckett." He smiled, big and wide, let himself enjoy it. Though, he saw something flinch in her eyes, it'd been slight - barely there. Like a spark of disappointment. Perhaps he'd have missed it if her whole body language hadn't deflated along with it.
"Great," she muttered tightly, her face angled away from him.
"Richard Castle, Robbery/Homicide," he blurted out as he extended his arm, hand wide open in invitation. He thought perhaps he had played with her enough- she looked awfully dejected, and it stirred a surge of revolt within him. He hated to have caused this.
She remained silent for a beat, and he genuinely thought she would brush him off and leave right then. He saw her eyeing his hand from the corner of her eye, weighing her options silently. She bit her lip so hard he almost winced, and gave him a short nod, her slim hand nesting in his like a wary bird that he cradled with caution. "How do you know?"
He relished in the warmth of her smooth skin, his finger curling instantly as his heart skipped a beat. Their eyes met for a moment too long, and she snatched her hand back while he turned his back on her and stepped inside the villa, used that moment to catch his breath.
"I received a call from your captain, Montgomery is it?" He closed the door behind her, turned to face her soon enough to see her face fall, eyes dropping to the ground in a sign of shame that didn't suit her in the least. "I've got to warn you, he sounded seriously pissed. I wouldn't like to be you."
She shot him a dark, hard look that cut right through him, and made the hair at his nape stand. He'd have backed out if there wasn't something so fragile mixed with the anger. Anger that wasn't directed at him- but at herself.
She'd disappointed her Captain. She had broken the rules, yes, but there was no pride in it. He could tell she was not one to overlook protocole. And while he didn't agree with the way she had handled it, he understood. From now on, though, he would make sure she wouldn't go rogue again.
"Then, why are we still here," she said, though her voice carried not as much darkness as she glanced around the room her hands on her hips- it was strangely very hot. She was hot.
He shrugged, walked around the ridiculously large living room, eyes scanning the place carefully. "Well, that's for you to say. What were you here for?" He asked as his trained eyes tried to find something out of the ordinary - or too ordinary.
He heard her walk behind him and quicken her pace to level him. "You're gonna help me? Why?" Blunt disbelief. It exploded out of her, and he had no doubt it was written all over her face. It almost hurt him.
Oh, she thought he would send her back home, didn't she. He could have. But to what aim? She was here now, and it would definitely be more fun with her. He was pretty sure she would have done whatever she wanted anyway. But, if she needed reassurance (which he doubted she did), he'd give it to her.
"There's a murderer running in my streets, and I could really use a partner. So, you're gonna help me." He said arching an eyebrow at her, watched as she pursed her lips in an attempt to suppressed a smile, it seemed. Her eyes were much clearer, and he captured how the wild amber sparkled.
She raised a matching, challenging eyebrow at him in response, "Fine. But so you know, I don't take orders," she let out as she walked past him to take a look around, purposefully letting her hair flick the air like a whip, her voice dropping low - so low and throaty that his abs spasmed hard, the sudden burn making him suck in a breath.
He blinked into space, released the air he had been holding.
"You're welcome.." he mumbled, walking after her with a shake of his head.
He wasn't going to survive this.
"Beckett, here," Beckett heard from behind her, and she turned to see Castle wave a notepad at her. "QIR Flight No. 215 7AM," he read aloud, "Ring any bell?"
She grabbed the surveillance photos from the coffee table, and headed to him holding them out in the air "Yes, this was Royce's flight. They must have flown together. See these photos? He knew they were in trouble. Probably left to New York to protect her."
She watched Castle's eyebrows furrow as his face leant on a side - confusion clouding over the blue sea - turning it grey. He had a handsome face - all rough edges, and deep shadows, and entirely too appealing. "Right. Perhaps he was doing some PI work for her. Look at that building the guy's coming out of. I think I know what that is, but I'd need to look into it."
She shook her head, teeth sinking into her digit as she tried to put the pieces together. "I don't know, Castle. Corgis, surfing, wine tasting? This doesn't make any sense."
He hummed, his eyes running over the photos. He intrigued her. He was nothing like any of the male cops she had been around before. He was quite a bit of a jerk, but he was also sweet - had bought her some time after all. She was used to boring, and dull - and he was everything but.
Perhaps she could take advantage of that while she was here. She'd noticed how he looked at her, he certainly wouldn't turn her down. She had planned on doing this alone, hardly ever needed anyone to begin with.
But maybe…
"Beckett." She whipped her head up, saw the recorder in Castle's hands. He pressed play, and a voice filled the room:
"The power of sound compels you"
The power of- what? "I don't know what that means," she said flatly, a sigh of frustration leaving her lips on a heavy puff of breath. "You know what? I'll call my boys. Have them look into Violet's contacts-" she stopped herself due to the look on Castle's face; the hard lines creased and shadowed by something dark. "Castle?" She asked, angling her head down to get a better look at his face, but-
He jerked his head up with wide, startled eyes as though he'd just blacked out and come back to himself at her voice. "Yeah uh-" His phone buzzed, his eyes glanced down. "Hey, look. Got results for that building. I sent it over to my tech analyst. It's a kind of R&D facility owned by a Charles Kelvin. And guess what?" A small smile crept along his lips, and she shrugged to urge him on. "The hobbies fit. Your Violet here was studying him"
"Let's go."
"You know, from what you've told me, and what we've just found out, I think our girl here got seriously played." Castle said as they walked out of the building and into the dim-lit street.
"No shit," Beckett countered tilting her face on the side and looking at him with a small smile. Even in the moonlight, she was breathtakingly stunning - if not more so.
"I'm just saying, that McCauley dude might just be your guy, Beckett," he said with a shrug. "A young actress, desperate to make a name for herself. He just had to tell her he needed a pretty girl to help him get the voice code, and promise to make her famous if she helped him and bam! Done." He heard her giggle quietly next to him, as she swayed gently into him leaving him in a paralysing state of daze. He wanted to, no- had to hear that again.
"You make it sound quite dramatic, but yeah, sounds about right," she agreed unlocking her rental car with a press of her thumb on the button of her key. "What?" she asked with a frown, that adorable line forming between her eyes.
"Nothing. Tomorrow?" He didn't want to leave her, and he hoped it didn't show in his voice, though he was pretty sure he had sounded more hopeful than he had intended. She unravelled him.
"Sure. I'll text you when I'll be ready," she said opening the door of the driver side and slipped inside with one last tight smile.
"And Beckett. You wait for me, got it?" She hated being told what to do, and while he'd been expecting to be on the receiving end of one her death glares, she only shook her head with a slow roll of her eyes. She might have a strong hold on him, he knew her type. She was a loose canon, clearly compromised and too close to this, he couldn't afford to let her think she could do whatever she wanted. He wouldn't let her.
"Sir, yes, Sir," she delivered with a cheeky curl of her lips, amusement intertwined in each word- mocking him. She winked, and smoothly slid into traffic.
He stood there under the too-bright light of the street light, when he realized his car was still where he had left it in Beverly Hills, and she'd left him here.
Great.
Story set in To Love and Die in LA - but clearly AU. This should be a three-shot at least, I think. I'm not quite sure yet, I tend to miscalculate. Be AWARE. This is rated T - but next chapter will have a M rated section. I will indicate where it starts and ends so you can easily overlook it (for those who aren't into that). Perhaps I will change the rating altogether if I decide to write more of that.
Very special thank you to Zoe who was a real support for this, and still is, and to Rhy and Kris for fixing up my mess.
