Author's Note: You are invited to read the racy prologue to this story: Hubba, Hubba, Heart-stopper. Like many great tales, this one starts with a dude named Castle and a muse named Beckett. In this unusually long chapter, the main fic branches out to include the beloved & hilarious Rysposito, Esplanie, and other unusual dyads in the quest for peace, justice and a more amusing hiatus. Enjoy!
Homicide Detective Katherine Beckett and Master Sergeant Valedictoria Evans had a few things in common. Despite drastically different appearances, both were 'very good at bossing men around' according to millionaire lover boy Richard Castle. He was wrapped around their respective fingers upon meeting each.
In addition, both women rarely remembered their dreams. However, on the morning of Tuesday, April 1st, 2014, Beckett in New York city, and Evans 1500 miles south, were surprised by a vivid vision that would linger in their conscious minds.
*o*
"Alright grunts and detectives, time to roll. Report in."
Castle was eager to be first, "Ready on the beach."
Beckett concurred. "Ready, Hoax."
Cannon echoed, "Ready on the high ground."
Detective Ryan sized up his view of no less than 4 fully outfitted enemy combatants in his visor, "Ready in Tower Two."
Creedon reported in from the communications center, "Listening in."
Adnan mirrored his friend, "Ambassador in embassy suite."
Fitz refreshed his satellite uplink, "Tech live."
Kreuger answered, "I'm here with the pups."
Detective Esposito closed one eye to focus his telescopic sight, and aimed his sniper rifle on the door that Master Sergeant Kai-Rhee was about to open, "Tower One is go. I have visual on Valkyrie. Let's do this."
Hoax mounted the all terrain trike, Simon stood on the tail. He started his engine and motioned for Castle to follow. The leaner man bent over to Hoax' ear. "You gave him gun?"
"Relax. It's just for show. He wants the photo op. I think his lady friend's the one packin'."
Richard Castle, feeling like every bit the American hero, mused to his fiance, "Why does a fortnight's worth of push-ups, a little army green face paint, and a four wheel all terrain vehicle make such a difference? I feel like Commando!"
"I dunno, Castle, could have something to do with the rocket launcher strapped to your back."
"Yeah, definitely that."
*o*
"What happened Monday night to bring on a dream like that?!"
"What happened Monday night to bring on a dream like that?!"
Kate and Kai-Rhee both startled awake with identical exclamations, and identical eye rolls, in reaction to the identical dream. As they floated disembodied over the scene, neither of them had any context for the emprise, nor all the people involved.
Both women, however, were crystal clear that the image of Richard Edgar Castle in army fatigues caused troubling interrobangs on many levels.
Before Kate rose to dress for work, she turned over to stare at the pillow where her fiancé's head usually rested. 'Let's hope Rick isn't taking himself too seriously amidst all those military veterans. We want his heartbeat to get stronger this week, not give it reasons to skip beats.' A familiar Ferrari came to mind, corrupting half her face with an ungovernable smirk. 'at least not until he returns home to me.'
Before Kai-Rhee attempted to leave her bed, she brought her knees to her chest one at a time to stretch her hamstrings. 'If that joker, Castle, is gonna stir up trouble, I'd better keep an extra eye on him. Funny that I dreamt of Javi though… Guess it was inevitable.'
On an island off the Florida Keys, the wall clock read:
Day 01 Hour 0600 Zone R Month APR Year 14.
Under it a writer whimpered.
Rick Castle sat on a wooden bench, hunched over a picnic table in the mess hall style dining room of his bootcamp 'retreat.' He stared plaintively at the alphabet shaped cereal floating in milk in front of him as the letters rearranged themselves into mocking snippets of words. 'NY' floated across the bowl bumping into 'KB.'
He tried to work up the courage to grab his spoon and eat those tasty little letters, but the idea of lifting his arms repeatedly, even just the small distance between the bowl and his mouth, was making him wince before he even attempted the action. Internally, he whined in grammatical angst, 'This is the worst birthday present I ever gave myself…ever.'
Echoing in his ears came Kevin Ryan's portentous comment from last week when Esposito had brought up the fact that his Special Forces trainer, codename Kai-Rhee, ran an elite physical training program for those with massive gall and a matching bankroll. Before Castle had talked himself into this now obviously misguided idea, Ryan had mentioned a very plain warning of what he could expect. In retrospect it was only too clear. However, only now could Castle hear Kevin's teasing comment for the plain truth it was. 'I hear she makes them cry in their cereal.'
'I need to thank the boys for suggesting that I need Miss Evans to whip my heart into shape before my wedding to Kate Beckett.' Despite the inestimable value of the mental focus meditations that the author had learned the day before, Rick's mind played out possible paybacks for the ungodly pain in his triceps.
The evil master who had brought him to this unenviable fate called out across the room, "Hoax! Can you please fix Mister Castle something to save him from the scourge of all those carbs?"
"Sure thing, Sensei!" the large man shouted back through his easy, knowing smile. He gave Castle a quick almost imperceptible wink before he started darting amongst the gleaming stainless steel appliances of the commercial kitchen that adjoined the mess hall.
In a moment, Hoax was passing a towering glass filled to the brim with a thick golden concoction through the cut-out window. The young man they called Cannon, Castle's equally tall, but much more flabby cohort, transferred the glass to the table in front of the author and whisked away the untouched cereal bowl.
Rick sniffed the contents of the glass in an attempt to psyche himself up to lift brutally sore arms for the task. It smelled pleasantly like a Mango Lassi from his favorite Indian restaurant back in New York. The olfactory suggestion of something pleasant from home made the writer's features melt in gratitude.
"Here," Cannon added a fat straw to the glass, "This might help."
Castle immediately considered Cannon 'a keeper' for this little kindness, but he scanned the room to assess how badly his rep would be damaged if the other men, and the Master Sergeant, saw him accepting the short cut. He had no problem admitting his lack of omnipotence, but this little microcosm of military-esque male bonding had it's own rules. After observing yesterday's system of rewards and punishments for displays of acceptable and non-acceptable behavior, he was wary. And Richard didn't want a little straw to be the reason he garnered the 'gift' of another 200 push-ups, no matter how much he wanted to keep his hands in his lap right now.
The blue-black haired kid in his early twenties, called Kreuger, was sucking down a putrid green drink sans straw. Similarly, the two gentlemen cloaked in conversation at the far side of the hall, were also imbibing lips to glass. But the scrawny young man they called Fitz was using a similar conduit to sip his magenta hued smoothie.
Fitzy was certainly an outlier in the social stratum of this little group. The evidence was clear in his thick-rimmed glasses and silkscreened tuxedo t-shirt. However, Castle had previously observed the young man's keen mastery of just where the limits lie, and how he could push them to their furthest point without over-stepping, during the many drills they undertook yesterday. Rick happily took this flimsy shred of supporting evidence as plenty of encouragement to curl himself over his own drink and begin to suck it up without the use of his aching appendages.
Castle's face lit up in surprise. Unlike most of his experiences the day before, this moment was downright delicious, a ray of liquid sunshine, and better than he could have hoped from it's smell. He sat up, craning his neck to catch Hoax in the kitchen.
The gregarious laugh of the big man shook itself through the hall.
"What's a matter, Castle? Did you think I was all brawn and no brains? I'm a man of many hidden talents." He laughed at his own joke, even though he knew it was lost on the new recruits.
Evans snickered with him, as she chomped on a particularly crunchy piece of salad.
Spurred by her ominous dream, she took the opportunity to draw the writer in. "Did you think everything at Camp Krypton was here expressly for the purpose of torturing you, Rick?" She snapped off a crunchy carrot in her teeth to accentuate the image, unable to refrain from the fun of hazing one of the many spoiled rich clientele that sought out her help.
Castle marveled that in just one day, his new master had managed to so completely brainwash him with her tactics that he now winced at the mention of his own first name.
Kai-Rhee had made abundantly clear that real grunts earned their worth when they displayed enough prowess, skill and commitment to earn a nickname, as her assistants Hoax and Simon had. Three of his fellow campers, Cannon, Fitz, and Kreuger had been donned with this honor as well. Only Rick and the two men across the hall were still answering to their Christian names.
The acidic disdain with which his trainers said his name gave him all the motivation he needed to set his sights on earning a kick-ass pseudonym from Master Kai-Rhee as soon as humanly possible. Coming home to Kate with a sobriquet that he had earned with his body, instead of his pen, seemed like the perfect prize to give her in the bedroom. He was already fantasizing about his fiancé vocalizing her appreciation of his newly improved 'engine' by screaming whatever manly moniker Evans would undoubtedly be knighting him with by week's end.
'Okay, maybe that prize is more for me than Kate,' Castle admitted to himself as he shook the too tempting thought of naked Beckett out of his mind.
When his new sensei recognized the look of transgression flash across his face, she taunted, "You thinking of running back to Kate, Rick?"
"Why, yes, Master Sergeant, I am thinking of my fiancé." He tilted his head with a reflexively charming smirk.
Casting his glinting eyes toward her beheaded vegetable, he countered, "But I'm not planning on reuniting with her until I've got the carrot you've been dangling in terms of a nom de guerre. I've been wondering how it is that my fellow campers garnered their titles?"
"They've each got a story to tell, Castle. But it's not for me to share. I get to come up with the handles, but I don't own the grit they had to show in order to get them." She stood up from the table. "Besides, I wouldn't want to torture you needlessly with the 'total commitment rule' hanging over your head like a rickety guillotine." She glanced at Castle's lap.
The writer gulped at the suggestion of something sharp near his 'man-parts.' He knew all too well that Kai-Rhee was reminding him that he wasn't allowed to write, network, contact home, or even masturbate during his time on her island. 'Total commitment is your only job.' The words in her disturbingly inarguable law-making voice, now etched into his memory, sent a quiver of dread up his spine as his mind replayed them.
"5 minutes 'til we trot, gentlemen!" Kai-Rhee announced before stepping outside.
The room erupted in fast moving men, finishing up their breakfasts and dumping their dishes into the bus bin.
Fitz stopped on his way out with advice for the newbie, "Better imbibe that quick, Castle. You're gonna need it. See you on the beach." He started out the door, but then turned around to add, "Oh, and you definitely wanna use the John before you head out there."
Cannon chimed in, "And sunblock, right Fitzy?" The big blonde rubbed a noogie out on the diminutive man's wiry hair before lumbering out of the room.
Fitz rolled his eyes at Cannon, and pulled up his shirt to reveal to Castle the word 'Fuckface' written in bright white skin across his chest, outlined by atomic pink sunburn.
"Good tips. Thanks gentlemen."
'How on earth have these youngsters survived over two weeks of Valkyrie's corporal extortion?' As the senior resident of this jocular, low-brow group, Rick braced himself for another day of gym class torture among the young and the wrest-less.
As Richard jogged along the sand with his 3 trainers and 5 fellow trainees, his insatiable curiosity began to bubble immediately, against direct orders. Undoubtedly, he'd never had an opportunity quite like this to meet such disparate personalities under these exceptional circumstances of combined duress and jocose bonding. And these 'men,' even if he had to use the term loosely, were a quirky bunch of specimens that seemed at first glance to defy neat categorization.
Certainly, Kai-Rhee had no stereotypical mold to fit into. All 5'4" of her muscular frame moved like a jaguar as she loped easily down the beach. With the battle scars and her uncanny ability to reduce men to puddles of compliant order-takers, she was a study in contrasts. Rick guessed that her elegant symmetry and soft copper skin might be the result of genes from The West Indies, maybe Creole blood, mixed with influences a little more hard-bitten. 'In another context, where she wasn't trying to intimidate me out of my skin, it's likely she would still halt all the conversations at a party. If not with her beauty, than certainly with the river of confidence she un-dams to deluge a room.'
Richard's thoughts paused briefly on his sensei's admonishment not to 'write or plot,' before he decided to take those terms literally instead of figuratively. He rationalized that as long as he didn't take pen to paper and diagram the traits of his compatriots on physical evidence, he was safe from her wrath.
That's all the questioning Rick Castle bothered with before he started drawing a story board in his mind, so he could staple his observations of the group to an easy mnemonic device. But for some reason, rather than his digital home office version, the writer pictured their faces on Beckett's analog murder board at the 12th precinct.
That sent the author's mind on an indulgent errand, 'Oh Kate, what are you doing at work right now? Are you hunched over paperwork with that adorable little crease teasing your brow? Or staring at the white board with that far away look of deduction that I love so much?'
Castle was struck with a useless pang of jealousy for Esposito and Ryan who were undoubtedly at her elbows as she unraveled whatever mystery was keeping her busy this week without him. The selfish devil on one shoulder secretly wished that she'd have a terrible time with this week's case, because she just couldn't do it without him. 'Hmmm, even in my fantasies that sounds farfetched.'
His team at the 12th was hard to leave for almost any reason these days. He blamed the wedding fast-approaching for making him sentimental. Even though he and Kate would be sharing a lifetime of experiences together in a host of contexts as husband and wife, their bond had 'grown-up' in that bullpen with Zito and Ryan close by. They were 'part of the furniture' in their relationship. After putting their lives in each others hands more times than he could count, he thought of 'the boys' more like family than co-workers. Unlike his daydreams of Kate, Rick's thoughts weren't concerned with what Rysposito was wearing as they contemplated evidence, but he did feel worlds better knowing that they had his intended's back in his absence.
'Mmm, what is Kate wearing right now?'
Rick's thoughts must have been a little too distracting, because before he realized what was happening, he found himself tumbling headlong. Sprawled flat over scrub lining the beach, he spat out a mouthful of sand, without a hint as to what hit him.
"Little help, friend?" A suave, tan skinned man with a gold chain around his neck, leaned over Castle to offer his hand. A full head of feathered black hair, a distinguished prominent nose, and near sparkling smile awaited acceptance of his offer.
Rick nodded and clasped hands with the Middle Eastern charmer. After leveraging himself upright again, he brushed off the gravel that had adhered itself to the sticky sunblock still not fully absorbed on his legs.
"Those roots can be tricky," his Samaritan's stout ebony-skinned running mate offered, pointing at the culprit protruding from the path as it crossed into marsh grass. This man, obviously of African descent, had a shiny bald head and dark eyes both of which reflected the morning sun with a friendly down-to-earth demeanor.
The man who helped him up apologized, "Excuse me, where are my manners? My name is Adelphian Raj Adnan. And this is my closest companion Mister Robert Washington Creedon, the third."
"Hi there, Mr. Castle. You can call me Bob." The darker man held out a big meaty hand for a vigorous hand shake.
"So nice to meet you, Bob. Do I detect a hint of the South in your voice?" he probed.
"Yes sir. Alabama-raised for 18 years before I shipped out for my first encounter with a real bootcamp. Speaking of, we should get a move on before we're missed. Care to carry on this conversation while we jog?"
"Nothing would make me happier." Castle was ever so pleased to be engaging with such interesting and mature fellows, since thoughts of Beckett were clearly a hazard to tarry with during exercise.
When all three of them settled into a synched rhythm Rick continued, "So, Bob, what brings you and your friend to this 'beautiful island resort'?" The writer's sarcasm elicited a chuckle from both of his new acquaintances.
Creedon responded, "Well, let's just say money, sloth and our mid-thirties made a terrible conspiracy right across our mid-sections while we weren't looking." The two friends exchanged knowing glances.
Adnan added, "But it didn't escape the notice of our wives, who were less than appreciative of our new physiques." He slapped the small abdominal pouch bouncing under his white T-shirt.
Creedon agreed, "It's not like I didn't notice entirely, but sometimes without a war to fight, it can be a little difficult to say 'no' to that one more frosty Mai Tai."
"Or that last coconut shrimp?" his friend chided.
"Or that extra week on the cruise ship with the five star chef." Creedon hung his head and shook it in the shame of lost self control.
Castle liked these self-effacing chaps already, "So, you were enlisted together? Is that how you met?"
Adnan supplied, "We met in Iraq during the war. Bob here has a special technical talent for listening in on conversations that might be of high value. And I was hired by the army to pick up on the nuances those conversations might be hiding, and predict where we might point Bob's x-ray ears in the future." Castle could see Adnan's obvious pride in their successful partnership.
"So, fast friends in the field, reunite for a week of cardiac cleansing?" Rick guessed.
Creedon joked, "Reunite? I wish. This joker has been Velcro-ed to my side for the better part of 10 years at this point." He turned to his well-groomed friend questioning his own math, "Is that right, Delphi, a whole decade?"
"That's correct. Met in '04. Made our first million by '06. Retired just before the bubble burst in '08. He's my good luck charm." Adnan pinched Creedon's round chin between his thumb and forefingers and gave it a little wag like a doting aunt, before Bob swat his hand away.
Creedon flexed his meaty arms while he continued jogging, "Don't make me unleash these dogs on you again, pretty boy."
Delphi laughed and let out a mocking wolf cub howl to show just how scary he found his friend's empty threat.
Rick waited until they finished their round of banter, before he continued his interrogation. "First million by '06, huh? How does a military salary parlay itself into that kind of money? If you don't mind my asking."
Delphi veritably beamed with pride, ignoring Bob's sheepish expression, "You see this genius here? He trained his high tech Spidey ears on exactly the opportune time and place that opened up a whole new world for this humble son of a University linguistics professor."
"Don't sell yourself short, Delphi. I could never have sweet talked those Dubai investors into building a state of the art water-park with only a few schematics as collateral. Your silver tongue built that first million out of thin air." He clapped his partner on the back.
Adnan's face melted into something a little lecherous, "I did so enjoy explaining the investment potential of water slides to the sheik's daughter."
"I bet you did."
Castle thought he was looking at the younger Middle Eastern equivalent of himself when he took in Delphi. He was a smooth talking, well groomed, ladies man who made his millions with a turn of phrase and tractor beam charm.
"So, what kind of name is Adelphian Raj, was it? Do you hail from Baghdad?"
"Yes, by way of Greece. My mother was a Greek actress who fell in love with my father's brilliant poetic mind." He winked his right eye at Castle. "Poppi was an author and taught at the Uni's in Baghdad. He and my mother were a love story for the ages." A faraway look paused Adnan's tale. "But when the Kurds and chemical warfare threatened in '86, my father sent Mitera and I back to Athens, until our city stabilized again. But, as you know, that never really happened to anyone's satisfaction. My great shame is that I smuggled myself back into Iraq to find my father without my mother's permission when I was 14. My father and I, we had to make our way without her for many long, lonely years. My father got lost in his books, and political discourse." His tone turned smarmy, "I, well, I used my words to gain entrance into the forbidden worlds of beautiful women, and sometimes, powerful men."
Now Rick was even more unnerved by the similarities he shared with his Greek-Arab compatriot. There were certainly parallels in their backstory, but Castle's mind was immediately drawn to the contrasts as he took in Bob's look of total support for his friend. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous that Delphi had found a life long friend to complement him in Creedon. It was clear that they loved each other in a way that only best friends with a lot of history can do.
On the other hand, most of Castle's 'bro's' were women. Even though he had uncountable poker buddies and definitely enjoyed his male friends, none of them were his missing pieces the way Ryan and Esposito fit together like nut and bolt.
Searching his heart, Rick realized it was his fiance, Katherine, that made him feel complete. 'She's the best partner I could imagine. In fact, the real Beckett is much better than I can capture in my books.'
Before meeting her, it was his daughter, Alexis, who anchored the world famous author to his best self. Rick realized in that moment that he no longer needed to stress about choosing a 'best man' for the wedding. It was obviously Alexis, who had been his better half for all these years. Only her bright-eyed blessing could shore him up for the next big leap of faith into his future. He made a mental note to ask his daughter to do him that honor at the first opportune moment.
Ahead of Castle ran his trainers, Kai-Rhee, followed by the hulking masses, Hoax and Simon. These three athletic specimens were followed by the motley band of twenty-something cohorts who had all earned their nicknames prior to Rick's arrival, Cannon, Fitz, and Kreuger. The three older trainees still laboring under their legal titles, Bob, Delphi and Rick, were bringing up the rear.
All nine runners had been trotting along the path in single file. They wound away from the beach, through denser vegetation, past a crow's nest look out, and over a hill that overlooked the lee side of the island. Castle was surprised to see a congregation of angular industrial buildings hidden there before the path lead them back to the beach.
When they could run side by side again, Castle queried to Creedon and Adnan, "Any idea what those misplaced megaliths were doing on a little tropical isle like this?"
"Financing it, most likely."
Delphi concurred, "I believe Kai-Rhee's little operation is granted use of this unique locale by some heavy hitters inside the military industrial complex. They built and own this little asylum from governmental control that we are standing on. Inside the edifices you saw back there are people who are no doubt shaping the future of war as we know it. It's better not to think about how they are going about that task, if you'd like to sleep at night." Creedon shook his head in agreement with his partner's warning.
Of course, telling Richard Castle not to think about a implausible conspiracy involving the development of futuristic weapons by people with means enough to create their own UN exempt landmass was tantamount to asking Sisyphus' boulder not to roll downhill. Rick's imagination was swallowed up by the possibilities for the rest of their morning run.
Back in NYC, Javier Esposito procrastinated the opening of an email that had him a little nervous.
To: Det. Javier Esposito
Fr: Valedictoria Evans
Dt: April 1, 2014
Subject: A long time
The experienced NYPD detective leaned back against his rolling chair and squeezed his pen like it was a stress ball that he might crush, scanning the labels with as much skepticism as possible. Castle's birthday had become an annual festival of practical jokes over the last five years. Just because Rick was somewhere in the Atlantic neck deep in the best prank that he and Ryan had ever pulled off in the history of April Fools, did not mean that the man wasn't capable of payback. It wasn't even 11 am yet, there was still a full hour of mayhem that could befall them. Espo's eyes were peeled.
"Yo, Ryan, you get any suspicious emails today?"
"Suspicious, how, exactly? If you mean our invite to the latest protocol debriefing on sexual harassment in the workplace, don't worry I RSVP'd for both of us. We just gotta remember to be down there by 2 pm, so we can get the good catering before it gets cleaned out. I don't want to get written up again because you can't let go of the last cream-filled donut. That was not cool, man."
"Hey, Perlmutter deserved that beat down. He knew I was going for that vanilla cream. What kinda man stands between another man and his dessert? I bet he doesn't even like powdered sugar. He was just poachin' my goods 'cause I asked Lanie if he was gonna spring for that toupee come spring, and that was Castle's idea! It had nothing to do with my lunch. I'm tellin' ya…"
Ryan held up both hands in surrender, "Javi, Javi, calm down, bro. Nobody said Morgue Man was entitled to your vanilla creme. I'm just saying that we should get there early today, so that super glue isn't required to seal up anyone's forehead later."
"Well, it worked fine for him. Can't even tell that where that finky little brow split open."
Ryan looked around nervously, "Alright man, hush. We're just lucky to have gotten outta that one with some low-level bribery. Now, what kind of email are you talking about?" Kevin asked, hoping to redirect Espo's ire in a safer direction.
"Check it out, bro." Javier pointed to the preview pane so Kevin could read the same address headers he had.
Ryan's eyebrows lifted before he checked to see his partner's reaction. "Do you think Castle sent it to scam you?"
"I can't imagine how he'd get past the likes of Kai-Rhee, but I'm not sure what else to make of it." Espo's mind had already turned over as many stones as he could think of.
"Maybe it's not a scam at all, maybe she actually wants to talk you to, bro. Did you read it yet?"
"Nah, not yet."
Ryan watched his best friend stare at the screen immobilized.
"Well, do you think it might help to read the body of the message before you decide if it's really from her?"
"Sure, after noon, I'll read it."
"You're gonna wait a whole hour, just so April Fools jokes will expire?"
"Yep, not letting Castle dick around with me like this. If it is a hoax, I'll know by then and I won't need to retaliate in any way that my partner might object to."
"Oh, well, Castle doesn't count. Besides, we already got him ten times worse than he got us last year because of your little bootcamp suggestion. Brilliant by the way."
"Thank you," Espo held out some hungry baby birds for Ryan to feed. Sending their smart-ass shadow to experience something like the hell that he, himself, had gone through to join the U.S. Special Operations Force definitely qualified for the highest level of fist bump between bros.
"Naw. I can wait." Javier pushed himself away from his desk and went to look for something sweet in the break room as distraction.
Ryan shook his head, talking to the files on his desk as he rearranged them. "Well, this next hour should be fun. Forget plowing through paperwork so we can go home early after the meeting." As he clicked closed open windows on his computer screen, Kevin addressed his own screen, "It was a pipe dream anyway. Only thing that might keep Espo focused now is a body drop."
Beckett strolled up and noticed Ryan talking to his desktop. "You okay, Ryan?"
He turned his over-smiling perpetually sleep-deprived new parent face toward her, "Oh, just peachy, boss. Javi's sugar loading over an imaginary prank that Castle hasn't even pulled, because apparently he's more anxious about the writer's birthday, than the writer is. But somehow that means I have to stay late and type up depositions. Unless, by some miracle, you are here to tell me that we've got a dead body."
"Sorry? Uh, no. No bodies." Beckett's face searched for sanity in that reply. Did she just apologize that no one was murdered? "I was just gonna remind you about the debriefing today."
"2 o'clock. Yep, Beckett, we'll be there." As she nodded and walked away with a confused look on her face, Ryan mumbled under his breath, "Yep, I cant wait to see how good Espo's 'listening ears' are working by the time 2 o'clock rolls around, if he's started down the path to sweet-tooth soothing this early in the day."
Kate Beckett settled into her seat next to her best friend, Lanie Parrish. She noticed Esposito and Ryan at the back of the training room, already raiding the snacks that lined the tables along the wall.
'It'll be nice to be able to just sit down, and let someone else lead.' She was trying to go easy on herself in Castle's absence. At his suggestion, Kate was trying on the habit of giving herself the smallest amount of leeway to enjoy little things in life, like the fact that Lanie had reserved them the most comfortable chairs, and sharing a few sips of her friend's raspberry fizz during the speaker's opening remarks, before the lights turned off.
"What constitutes inappropriate advances in the work place?" The speaker read off the title of her first slide.
That was all it took. Kate's mind flooded with year's of Castle's not-quite-inappropriate but oh-so-distracting glances over the years. Then her mind drifted through her own mentions of ice cubes and hand cuffs. Oh, there were so many ways she loved to torture that man into behaving. She smiled at herself.
"When does physical touching cross the line?" Another slide appeared on the projector.
With that, Kate wasn't listening to the speaker anymore. She was shaking Castle's hand. No, he was caressing hers. The smooth sound of his deep baritone, mingled with desire, flushed her cheeks as her mind replayed, 'This is me giving you a good night kiss…'
Beckett shifted herself in her seat to shake off the feelings that weren't really helping her focus, while glancing to see if the medical examiner was still paying attention. She found her friend's eyes fixed across the room to where Esposito was sitting next to Ryan. Parrish gave Beckett the smallest knowing pop of her eyebrows, as she continued to indulge in her favorite sport of Espo-leering. It dawned on Beckett, 'That's why Lanie picked this row! No one behind her can see her line of sight.'
Kate found it fairly adorable that Javier could unbutton all of her best friend's prim codes of conduct when no one was looking. Parrish was a brick house in all the best ways internally and externally, but she let Javi's heat burn her from time to time as long as there was no danger that he would catch on. After their failed attempt at dating, it was obvious neither of them could handle that, just yet.
Katherine checked out Lanie's target to see if either of the boys had picked up on the ME's attention. So far, both of them seemed to be focused on their lunch.
However, Beckett watched Esposito put down his sandwich when the speaker announced, "What is the appropriate course of action if you find yourself attracted to another person in the workplace?"
Espo swiped his hands against each other so the crumbs would fall back into his plate, and finished swallowing his last bite. He took a swig of his water bottle and used his napkin to wipe his mouth. Ryan looked over at his partner and indicated a silent 'You gonna finish that?' Javier held back the sweets on his plate, but pushed the rest of it towards Kevin.
With another sip of his drink, the locus of Lanie's attentions seemed to be attempting an inconspicuous sweep of the room. Kate smiled at Espo's inability to remain incognito while he looked for Parrish. Javier had many talents, but flying under the radar was not one of them, especially not with attractive women.
Lanie began to blush a little and brought her hand up to cover her mouth, just in case she needed to shield herself when Javi's eyes met hers. Even though his broadcast movements were potentially embarrassing, Parrish agreed that the bold outline of Javier's passion in everything he did was an integral part of what made him stand out like a firebrand, while people around him could fade away into the drab grey-ness of modern life. It simultaneously drew Lanie in like a moth, and repelled her with heart-rending fear. She couldn't imagine how Javier could fit into her carefully planned life without wrecking things like a bull in a china shop. However, that didn't extinguish any of the middle-melting warmth that his presence invariably inspired in her body.
As his boss, Kate didn't need to see Javier's inappropriate bedroom eyes when they finally found Lanie. So, Beckett watched Parrish instead to see how this drama would unfold.
'Oh, there it is. Lanie's patented chastising glare.' Beckett could spot the moment her friend's protective instincts kicked in, because the sinfully desirous expression turned instantly into a facade of disinterested disciplining for Javi. 'Poor man, he doesn't stand a chance against those highly evolved defensive mechanisms. Neither of them do.'
Apparently, Beckett and Evans weren't the only ones with something in common.
Richard Castle and Javier Esposito were both successful men. They had already proven themselves to the world. Each had found their calling, and accomplished their jobs above and beyond anyone's expectations of their humble beginnings.
Still, Rick and Javi had plenty to authenticate to themselves. Both craved to express long-repressed desires, dreams that their lives hadn't afforded room to this point.
When Katherine Houghton Beckett agreed to be his bride, Castle felt like he might be closing in on a piece of his designs, even though he knew better than to count his blessings until they walked down that aisle together. Esposito, on the other hand, had no idea that his time might be just around the corner.
Having so much going for them, neither man would admit to dwelling on what they didn't have. Still, before drifting to sleep, both often closed their eyes with identical questions smoldering in their hearts:
'Will I ever get the life I yearn for?'
'Will I ever get the life I yearn for?'
So, who's gonna get 50 bonus Espo-points for naming the episodes when Castle dared to call him 'Zito?
By far, this is the longest chapter. Thanks for reading to the end (obviously a sign of superior distraction-deference skills on your part)!
Eternal gratitude to the many authors who've lent a hand to this baby: JamieSpencer4, FuelDH206, GeekMom, The Black Sluggard, purplangel, CharacterDriven, lousiemcdoogle, TeaCakeAndHappyThoughts, SelimPensFiction - and Detective Angie dtrekker for cover art. Not sure how I got so lucky, but you KNOW you deserve all the fan-girl-ling in the verse for your support!
Props to reviewers who encouraged a follow up to the Hubba, Hubba, Heart-stopper one-shot: sugar free vanilla, southerngirl1, Supremelyorange, MLN & 'anonymous guests'
To the 'real life' friends who held my hand through my first foray into full-length fiction, MC, ARC, MG, AS, WK, SH, SJS, TJS, Work friends, Co-op & Committee comrades, the nymphs & minions I have the privilege to live with: I pledge allegiance to the awesome life we've made together.
Hope you'll join along as we cajole our way to Season 7. Next up, the bro's banter about bedroom conquests, Martha waxes nostalgic about the 70's, and some 'bitch' hits on Kate's fiancé. Good times ;-)
