OPENING DAY

The uniformed policeman led the courier up to the third floor of the Twelfth Precinct and pointed at a man slouched in a chair next to the desk of an attractive but harried-looking detective. The fact that the man was playing with a yoyo didn't seem to faze either the policeman or the lady detective.

"That's him," the uniform said.

The courier stepped over the desk. "Rick Castle?" he asked the man with the yoyo.

Startled, Castle looked up and the yoyo went spinning toward the courier, who just managed to dodge out of its way.

"Sorry," Castle said, pulling the yoyo back to snap into his palm. "I'm Castle."

"Delivery," the courier said, handing Castle a large manila envelope.

"You're having your mail delivered here now?" the lady detective, Kate Beckett, asked.

"Yes," Castle said. "And I'm thinking of putting in a hot tub right over there," he pointed to the desks where Detectives Ryan and Esposito sat, "since that space really isn't being used for anything productive."

"Funny, Castle," Esposito said.

"This from the man playing with a yoyo while we try and do real police work," Ryan added.

Castle signed the clipboard and handed it back to the courier, along with a generous tip. "Come on," he said. "You're doing paperwork. That's not real police work."

Beckett scowled at him. "Unfortunately, Castle, this isn't like one of your novels where once the bad guy's caught, the case is over. Real cops have to do paperwork." She looked down at the pile on her desk. "Tons and tons of paperwork," she sighed.

"Speaking of paperwork," Ryan asked. "Wasn't the point of following us around so that you could write more Nikki Heat novels? You're always here. When do you write?"

"First," Castle said, pointing at Ryan with the envelope to emphasize his point, "I'm following Beckett here around. I'd only follow you around, Ryan, if I was writing comedy, not drama."

"Got you there, bro," Esposito said to Ryan.

"And second, the writing process is a deeply personal process that cannot be analyzed or explained," Castle continued.

"He writes at night sitting on the couch in his underwear," Beckett said, not looking up from her paperwork.

"So you've witnessed this literary toil first hand, eh Beckett?" Esposito asked.

Beckett looked up and her face started to turn red. "Well. No. That is… I…"

"You're free to come over and watch," Castle teased.

"That's okay," Beckett said, recovering quickly. "I get the Horror Channel at home."

"And again, bro," Esposito said.

"So what's in the envelope?" Beckett asked, trying to change the subject.

"Let's see, shall we?" Castle asked.

He grabbed a letter opener off of Beckett's desk and sliced the envelope open with a flourish. He tented the envelope, looked inside and cried, "All right! They're here!"

"What?" Beckett asked. "What's here?"

Castle reached in the envelope and pulled out a handful of long strips of paper and theatrically fanned then out, like a magician fanning a deck of cards. "Tickets to opening day at Yankee Stadium. And not just any tickets. A suite. A luxury suite. No better way to catch the start of the season."

Ryan and Esposito were on the feet immediately, scrambling over to the desk.

"No way!" Ryan said.

"Where'd you get those?" Esposito asked at the same time.

Both were practically salivating at the prospect.

Not Beckett, of course. Beckett sat back and crossed her arms, trying to look nonchalant. Indeed, a little disgusted at the vulgar display. Inside, of course, she was jumping up and down like a little girl yelling "Ask me! Ask me! I wanna go!"

Castle plucked two of the tickets out of the fan and handed them to Ryan and Esposito. "You guys game?"

"Yeah!" "You bet." They snatched the tickets out of Castle's hand faster than a golden retriever nabbing a treat.

"Oh, wait," Ryan said. "I, uh, kinda need to ask Jenny."

"See if she wants to come along," Castle said. "I'll see if we can get them to add warm milk and honey to the menu."

"Yeah, funny," Ryan said. He whipped out his phone and hit number one on the speed dial. "Hey, honey bunny," he said. At the smirks from Castle and Esposito, he blushed, turned his back and walked back over toward his desk.

"So what do you say?" Castle asked, waiving a ticket under Beckett's nose. "Opening day at Yankee Stadium?"

Beckett started to reach for the ticket and then paused. "I can't," she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. "It's kind of a thing we have, my Dad and I. We always try go to opening day together."

Castle plucked another ticket from his hand. "So bring him along."

"You mean it?" Beckett asked, brightening. "Really?"

"Sure," Castle said. "The suite holds a dozen. I promised Mom and Alexis they could go. And Alexis will want to bring her friend Taylor since Ashley's out of town. Taylor's not much into baseball, but she's got a crush on Brett Gardner."

"Really?" Beckett asked again.

"Give him a call," Castle said. "I'd kind of like to meet your dad."

Beckett snatched the pair of tickets from Castle's hand and whipped out her cell phone. She stood and walked off while she dialed.

Ryan came walking back over. "Jenny's got to work," he said. "But she said it's okay if I want to go."

Castle and Esposito both make sneezing motions into their hands while saying, "Whipped! Whipped!"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Ryan said, sticking the ticket in his pocket.

Beckett came back over, her face beaming. "He'd love to come. Thank you, Castle."

"Great!" Castle said, slapping his leg. "This is turning into a real party!"

"The city isn't paying you to party," said Captain Roy Montgomery, stepping out of his office.

"Well," Castle said. "Technically the city isn't paying me at all."

"Then quit bothering my detectives when they have work to do," the Captain said. "Got a body over at the Lexington Hotel."

"Let's go," Beckett said, grabbing her coat.

Ryan and Esposito scrambled to their desks to grab their gear.

"Captain," Castle said. "Opening Day. Yankee Stadium. You and the missus. What do you say?"

"I say yes," the Captain said.

"You coming, Castle?" Beckett called from over by the elevator.

Castle threw two tickets at the Captain and rushed after Beckett.

The tickets fluttered to the floor. The Captain stooped down, picked them up, and looked them over. "Luxury suite," he murmured. "Eat your heart out, Commissioner."

Lanie Parish, the Assistant Medical Examiner, was leaning over the body when they arrived at room 1123 of the Lexington Hotel.

"Hey, Lanie," Beckett said. "What have you got for me?"

"A whole lot of dead guy," Lanie said, motioning to the grossly obese, naked man lying in the middle of the room.

"Lanie!" Castle said, edging his way past Beckett. "Yankee Stadium. Opening Day. You in?" He paused at seeing the corpse. "Whoa! Who harpooned Moby Dick here?"

"Gunshot, not harpoon," Lanie said. "Actually, multiple GSW's, although I'm still trying to find all the entry wounds." She looked over toward the door.

"Yes, Esposito's coming," Castle said.

"Did I say anything?" Lanie said. "We're not joined at the hip, you know." She looked down at the corpse and muttered, clearly loud enough to hear, "Although if that boy thinks he's going to the game without taking me, he's got another think coming."

"Castle?" Beckett said. "I hate to interfere with your party planning, but… dead guy? Murder investigation?"

"Oh. Sorry," Castle said.

Beckett knelt next to the body.

"I'll give Esposito your ticket," Castle whispered to Lanie.

"Castle!" Beckett said.

"Sorry. Sorry," Castle said. "Focusing on the dead whale. I mean, guy."

Esposito came in. "One of the maids, Consuela Obregon, was cleaning the room across the hall. She heard three or four gunshots at about ten o'clock and ducked down behind the bed. She heard someone running down the hall. After a few minutes, she didn't hear anything else, so she looked over the bed. She didn't see anything so after waiting a couple more minutes, she looked out in the hall, saw the door open her and looked in to find jumbo here sprawled on the floor. She called hotel security and they called 9-1-1."

"She didn't see who it was that ran?" Beckett asked.

"She was too busy hiding under the bed," Esposito said.

"Smart woman," Castle said.

Beckett gave him a look.

"Just saying," Castle said with a shrug. "I never understood people who look to see what's going on when they hear gunshots. I hear gunshots, I'm with Consuela under the bed."

"Yes, well, your bravery is legendary, Castle," Beckett said.

Any retort by Castle was cut off by Ryan walking up, reading from his notepad. "The room's registered to a Myron Davis. He's a businessman from Akron. Checked in yesterday for a three night stay."

"Surveillance?" Beckett asked.

"Cameras in the stairwells, lobby and elevators," Ryan said. "They're pulling the tapes."

"All right," Beckett said. "See what you can find on this Myron Davis and see if his description matches our vic. And find out what he was in town for."

"On it," Esposito said. He and Ryan turned and walked out.

Becket looked over at Castle. He was counting on his fingers. "Castle?" she asked.

"You, me, Mom, Alexis and Taylor," he said, ticking off fingers. "Ryan, Esposito, Lanie, the Captain and his wife. Oh, and your Dad. That's eleven. The suite holds twelve. You want to invite Josh?"

Beckett looked a little uncomfortable, as she did whenever Castle brought up her boyfriend. Then she shook her head. "Josh isn't much of a baseball guy. He's into hockey. Aren't, ah, you bringing a date?"

It was Castle's turn to shake his head. "No. Dates and baseball don't really work for me." He laughed. "One time, I took Kyra to a game and…" his voice trailed off and he licked his lips. "Anyway. Murder victim?"

"Oh, yeah, right," Beckett said, chagrined that Castle had managed to pull her away from the task at hand. She turned to Lanie. "So does ten o'clock match the T.O.D. for our victim?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that," Lanie said. "My liver probe wasn't long enough to get through the extra padding of tubby here. But from rigor and lividity, I'd say that's about right."

Two techs came in with a gurney, interrupting the conversation. One of them whistled. "Yeah, Frank," Castle turning to the tech as he stood and looked from the body to the gurney. "I'm thinking forklift."

Beckett erased the details of their last case from the murder board. It had already been photographed and the various photos and other evidence boxed up to await the trial. Castle was perched on the edge of the desk, talking on the phone. He put his thumb over the pickup and turned to Beckett. "What kind of beer does your Dad like?"

"What?" Beckett asked, turning toward him.

"Beer," Castle said.

Beckett still looked confused so Castle nodded to the phone. "It's the suite caterers. They want to know what kind of drinks to stock and, well, I want to make a good first impression on your Dad, so…"

"Diet Coke," Beckett said. "Castle, listen…"

He held up a hand. "And some Diet Coke," he said into the phone. "Right. And don't forget the grilled onions to go with the hotdogs. Great. Thanks."

Castle snapped the phone shut and turned to Beckett. "Sorry," he said. "You were saying?"

"About my Dad… and the game," Beckett said, fidgeting. "I was thinking…"

She was interrupted by Ryan walking up waving a compact disk. "Got the surveillance footage from the hotel," he said. "Nothing from the elevators and, unfortunately, this is all they could get from the eleventh floor stairwell." He sat down at his computer and popped in the disk. After a moment, a window popped up with the image of a darkened stairwell. A moment later, the door opened and a figure came out, a hoodie over its head. It darted quickly out of a frame.

"Anything from the lower floors?" Beckett asked.

"No. That's the weird part," Ryan said. He hit a couple keystrokes and the video backed up and paused. "See. The perp goes up the stairs from the eleventh floor."

"Up?" Castle asked.

"Yeah," Ryan said. He hit a couple keys and the scene changed to show a stairwell. A moment later a figure in a hoodie ran past the camera and up the next set of stairs.

"So he went up to the roof?" Castle asked.

Ryan nodded. "And unfortunately, there's no camera's on the roof or the top of the stairwell."

"So pigman stole the eggs from the bird people and, when he wouldn't give them back, they sent a winged assassin to take him out. Then the assassin runs up to the roof and flies away."

Beckett and Ryan both looked at Castle.

"C'mon," he said. "Don't you play Angry Birds?" He held up his iPhone.

Beckett rolled her eyes and turned back to Ryan. "Is there a fire escape leading down from the roof?"

"Already on it," Ryan said. "Esposito took some uniforms to canvass buildings with a view of the roof or the fire escape to see if anyone saw something about the time of the murder."

"Make sure he asks if they saw anyone fly off the roof," Castle said.

Beckett gave him another look.

"What?" Castle asked. "If Patterson can write about winged teenagers…"

Beckett ignored him.

"We got a positive i.d. on the victim," Beckett told Ryan. "It is Myron Davis. Let's pull phone and financials."

"On it," Ryan said.

Beckett glanced down at her watch. "Damn. I'm late for my meeting with the D.A. on the Keeling case." She hurried over to her desk and grabbed her gun and badge. "I'll talk to you later, Castle." With that, she hurried out.

Castle dropped into Esposito's chair and rolled it over to Ryan's desk. "Beer. Hotdogs. Burgers. Nachos. Peanuts. And sodas for Alexis and her friend. Anything else we need in the suite?"

"What kind of beer?" Ryan asked.

Rick Castle shrugged on the pinstripe jersey with the number 4 and the name 'GEHRIG' on the back and then pulled on the blue cap with the white 'NY' on the front. He looked in the mirror and smiled. "Today… today… today… I consider myself… myself… myself… the luckiest man… man… man…"

"Richard!" his mother's voice came from the other room. "The car's here."

Castle straightened his cap and gave himself a wink. "On the face of the earth," he said quickly and then stepped out of his bedroom.

"Richard, we have to get going," Martha Rodgers said, grabbing her purse. "I don't want to miss the start of the game. Haley Swindal is singing the National Anthem and I was in a play with her last year."

"Isn't she Steinbrenner's granddaughter or something?" Castle asked.

"What?" Martha asked, looking up from rooting around in her purse. She stepped over to the stairs. "Alexis, Taylor. Come on. The car's waiting."

"We're coming," Alexis said, skipping down the stairs, followed by her friend, Taylor.

"What's the big deal about Haley Swindal?" Castle asked.

"She said she'd put in a good word about my acting classes to some of the understudies," Martha said, bustling out the door.

The front door closed and there was the sound of the lock being thrown. A few heartbeats later, the door opened again and Castle charged into the room, hurried over to the kitchen counter, and picked up a handful of tickets, then charged back out of the room.

"Here we are Mister Castle," the driver said as he pulled up to the curb. "This is as close as they'll let me get."

"That's okay, Vince," Castle said. "We can walk from here." He handed a wad of bills to the driver. "Pick us up when the game's over?"

"That's the plan, sir," the driver said.

"I told you," Castle said. "Call me Rick."

"Yes, sir, Mister Castle," the driver said.

Castle shook his head as he, Martha, Alexis and Taylor climbed out of the back of the car. Hordes of people were streaming toward the stadium, most in Yankees gear but a few in Detroit Tigers livery. "Over here," Rick said, pointing toward the luxury suite entrance.

"Castle! Yo! Castle!"

Castle turned to see Esposito elbowing his way through the crowd, pulling Lanie along in his wake.

"Hey! Esposito! Lanie! You made it!" Castle cried. He turned to his mother. "Mom, you know Javier Esposito. And this lovely creature with the winning smile and complete lack of taste in men is Lanie Parish, the medical examiner I've told you about."

"Nice to meet you," Martha said, holding out her hand to Lanie. "And to see you again, Detective Esposito. When are you going to let me win some of my money back from you?"

Lanie raised an eyebrow. "Poker night at Castle's," Esposito explained. "For an actress, Martha here is a terrible bluffer." He looked past Castle. "Hey Alexis."

"Detective Esposito, Doctor Parish," Alexis said. "This is my friend Taylor."

Taylor ran her eyes up and down Esposito. "Nice to meet you, detective," Taylor said in a comically sultry voice.

Esposito looked uncomfortable, but Laine smirked and put her arm through his. "C'mon, baby," she said. "I want to get a program before the game starts."

"Oh," Castle said with a knowing smile. "There are programs in the suite."

They walked to the gate where the Yankee's personnel checked their tickets and searched the ladies' purses, then directed them toward the elevators to the suites. Lanie made sure she stood between Esposito and Taylor on the ride up.

The elevator opened and the gentleman just outside the elevator checked their tickets again. "Right over…" he stopped. "Hey, you're Rick Castle, aren't you?"

Rick gave his 'yes, you are in the presence of your favorite author' nod and said, "Yes. Yes I am."

"I saw your picture in the Ledger in that 'Most Eligible Bachelors in New York' column," the man said. "You look a lot older in person."

The smile slowly drained away from Castle's face and his mouth opened and closed a couple times. "Yes. Well," he stammered.

They all heard the sound of laughter and turned to see Kevin Ryan and an attractive blonde standing a short distance away.

"The look on your face, Castle," Ryan snorted.

"Sorry, Mister Castle," the man said. "Kevin and I went to Saint Brendan's together. I really am a fan."

Castle smiled good naturedly and waved to Ryan's fiancée. "Another woman with a complete lack of taste in mates. I'm glad you could get off work, Jenny."

"Hi, Rick," Jenny said. "Thanks for the tickets."

Castle made introductions all around.

"You seen Beckett and her Dad?" Castle asked Ryan as they headed toward the suite.

"Not yet," Ryan replied. "But Captain Montgomery and his wife are in the suite already."

The suite was on the first base side just above the press box. The back half of the suite was enclosed, with a small kitchen and sitting area already loaded with food. The front half of the suite was open, with two rows of stadium chairs on an open porch.

"Nice!" Esposito said as he ushered Lanie into the suite.

"Hey, Castle," Captain Montgomery said, stepping in from outside. "Heck of a view of the park from here."

"Captain," Castle said. "You remember my mother, Martha, and Alexis?"

"Nice to see you again," the Captain said, taking Martha's hand. "And this is my wife, Maggie."

"Captain, Mrs. Montgomery," Martha said.

"Please," the Captain said. "We've played poker together. I told you to call me 'Roy.'"

"And I'm Maggie," the Captain's wife said. "You know, I saw you last winter in 'The Lion in Winter' over at the Orpheum."

"Really!" Martha said, taking Maggie's arm and leading her over to the corner of the suite. "You know, that was such a challenging production…"

"Maggie's in trouble now. She'll never get away from gram," Alexis said.

"C'mon," Taylor said, pulling Alexis toward the open-air platform. "I think Brett is warming up."

"Get you a beer, Captain?" Castle asked, nodding over toward a tub in the corner.

"I could be persuaded," the Captain replied.

"Have you seen Beckett and her Dad yet?" Castle asked.

The Captain shook his head. "No. But she left the precinct early to go pick him up."

As if on cue, the door to the suite opened and Beckett stepped through, pulling off her coat as she did. Just behind her came an older man who had held the door for her.

"Beckett!" Castle called happily. "You made it! And this must be your Dad."

Beckett smiled and stepped to the side, motioning her father forward. "Dad, this is Richard Castle. Castle, my Dad, Jim Be…"

"Jimmie?" Martha's incredulous voice rang through the suite.

Beckett's father's brow furrowed as he turned. When he saw Castle's mother, Martha, all the blood drained from his face. "Mattie?" he gasped.

"Oh my God, it is you," Martha said, running across the suite to take Jim Beckett's hands in her own. "My God," she said again. "After all these years."

"All these years," Jim Beckett croaked. "It was…"

"June 21, 1970," Martha said. "I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You haven't changed," Jim Beckett said, shaking his head.

"Liar," Martha said, smiling. "I… I…"

Castle looked from his mother, to Beckett, to Beckett's dad. "Mom?" he asked. "You know Beckett's Dad?"

"You're Kate's father?" Martha gasped. "I… I had no idea…"

"Dad?" Beckett asked.

Jim Beckett turned to his daughter, his hands still in Martha's. "I met Mattie just once. Forty years ago, the night before I shipped out for Vietnam. It… It was before I met your mother. We were at a party in SoHo."

"At the Crystal Swan," Martha supplied.

Jim Beckett nodded. "I remember," he said. "I… my God," he gasped. "I can't believe…"

"June of 1970," whispered Castle. "But that was…"

"About nine months before you were born," Beckett gasped.

Author's note: This story has been rolling around in my head since opening day of last year. An old friend invited me to a game this year (in a suite) and I remembered the start of a story about Opening Day that I had. So I brushed it off and finished it up.

P.S. Please don't kill me.

P.P.S. I promise. I really am a Caskett shipper.

P.P.P.S. I almost forgot. A tip of the hat to my friend and fellow author MySoapBox who's 'Chuck' story 'Much Ado' was no doubt in my mind when I thought this up. So, I guess, blame her. (Waves at MSB).