Fowl Play
A Caskett pre-show Christmas-themed meet-cute. One shot.
After making sure the path was clear, Officer Kate Beckett eased her cruiser onto Broome Street as she continued her afternoon patrol of the streets of New York City. As she was trained to do, she swept her eyes back and forth across the streets and sidewalk while also paying attention to traffic and listening to the police radios for any calls that needed responses. When she eased the cruiser to a stop at the next red light, Kate let out a huff of breath and dropped her hands off the wheel and into her lap as she waited for the light to turn.
Now that she was on the job over a year, Kate could say she felt entirely comfortable on patrol by herself. Depending on who was assigned to ride with her, she might have even said that she preferred it. Typically, though, she did have someone with her, but her companion that day had left just four hours into his shift, siting some lingering food poisoning that was not conducive to spending twelve hours in a car traveling around Manhattan.
Once traffic was moving again, Kate continued her scan of the streets. As she moved into the next block traffic thinned out and she could see more of the sidewalk. Up ahead, a peculiar sight caught her eye; there seemed to be three large white geese walking in a row. A gaggle of geese walking together would not have been out of place in Central Park, but this close to SoHo? That made absolutely no sense at all.
Kate looked in her rear-view mirror and saw there was not a vehicle directly behind her, so she slowed to around eight miles per hour to take closer look. As she drew closer, she confirmed that there were indeed several geese walking along the sidewalk together. Strangely, they appeared to be tethered—or, perhaps, leashed?—to a tall man walking beside them.
"What the hell?" Kate said quietly to herself as she tried to think of any reasonable explanation for what she was seeing. When she could come up with nothing, she decided this bizarre parade of man and fowl deserved investigation.
She drove another half block before finding a place to park her vehicle. Then, after quickly checking traffic, she jogged across the street and ended up on the sidewalk in front of the man and the birds. From that perspective she could tell that he had at least five or six of them, all on black leashes. Most were honking as they waddled along, though as two began to dart out towards the road, the man stopped abruptly, tugged on the leashes and appeared to be scolding them.
With an arched brow, Kate continued to observe the spectacle. The man was clean and not disheveled. He was well dressed and his shoes looked polished—and expensive. All those things led her to believe he was not a mentally ill individual who had stopped taking his medication; yet, he was still a man walking down a New York sidewalk with birds on leashes as he talked to them. No—not just birds; big, white geese.
Kate took two steps towards the man, bringing herself about a dozen feet in front of him before calling out, "Excuse me sir?"
The man gazed around, presumably unsure of "sir" referred to him, when he realized it did, he gave her a polite smile and said, "Good afternoon, Officer. Can I help you with something?"
Kate stopped walking a few feet from the man, making sure to keep herself a safe distance away from him—and the birds. As he wore sunglasses it was not possible for him to see his eyes, but she glanced up and down his body once more before responding. "Maybe. Why don't you tell me what you're doing with these birds?"
"I'm not breaking the law, am I? They're on leashes."
"They're birds…." She responded a bit dumbly. While she was well aware of the leash-curb laws for dogs, she very much doubted that a similar one existed for birds, particularly considering they were usually flying around. She did not necessarily think he was doing something illegal (if he was breaking a law—which he very well may have been—it was one she was certainly not aware of). Still, she felt it prudent to discuss his intentions in case they were unsavory.
"We'll," he continued with a highly amused expression, "I can't have them getting lose and running into traffic, can I? My daughter would never forgive me then."
"Are…" She paused, looked down at one of the birds that was now staring at her shoe with a concerning amount of interest, and then back up at the man. "Are these her birds?"
"Temporarily. They're six geese a-laying. You know, from the song."
Kate blinked. "What song?"
"The Twelve Days of Christmas. Surely you've heard of it."
"I…" Kate's jaw hung slack as she processed the man's words. Six geese a-laying from the Twelve Days of Christmas song? That did almost make sense. It certainly explained the half dozen leashed fowl, but…did that mean that…? Surely, no, but then again… "I…sorry—are you giving your daughter the twelve days of Christmas for Christmas?" She asked as that seemed the conclusion they were moving towards as crazy as that seemed.
"Yes." He smiled. Then, after a beat he continued. "Well, sort of. Did you know that if you give out all the gifts in the songs that ends up being 174 birds? That's a lot of birds. A lot of birds. So, then I thought…well, she doesn't need to get everything over and over again; that would be unnecessary. I decided I'd just give them to her once—one a day. But the more I looked into it, that's not practical. Did you know that swans are actually really aggressive? I can't give those to Alexis. So, she's getting stuffed swans, but geese are harmless. They're even kind of friendly."
Kate stared at the man gazing pleasantly down at the birds surrounding them with soft honking sounds and could honestly not decide if his story was sweet or utterly insane. On one hand, a father wanting to give his daughter such an elaborate gift spoke to his devotion and the fun-loving nature of their relationship. On the other hand the practicalities—or, rather, the impracticalities—of a gift that included so many live animals should have stopped him…shouldn't they have?
"So what are you going to do with these birds?"
"Oh, I have a straw pen in the apartment. It's where the chickens are. Sorry—'French hens,'" he added with as good of an air quote as he could give while holding all the leashes.
With this new layer of insane information all Kate could do was blink at him for several moments. "You…have chickens in your apartment?"
"Don't worry they're temporary. We already had to give back the calling birds—they would not stop screeching."
Her concern growing, Kate asked carefully, "Sir are you sure you're okay? Have you started any new medications recently?"
The man gave her a pointed look. "I'm not crazy, I promise. It's just… well, this is probably more information than you want to know but: Alexis's mother and I are divorced. For months the plan has been for Alexis to spend Christmas week with her mother. Then, just a few days ago, Meredith canceled. Secretly, I was excited, because I'd been so bummed about spending Christmas away from Alexis for the first time, but when I saw how down Alexis was about her mother thinking that a ski trip with her actor friends was more important than her…I just want Alexis to have a good, memorable holiday."
With these added details, Kate returned to thinking of the man's gesture as sweet. He was clearly still crazy—very, very crazy—but in a kind, fatherly way. She did not imagine many fathers would go to the lengths he was to ensure his daughter had a good holiday and that certainly was a commendable action.
"How old is she—your daughter?"
"Nine."
"Well, I know what it's like to spend Christmas without my mother, so I hope she enjoys her…geese," she said with a slight laugh.
The man chuckled as well. "Well, thank you. And thanks for all that you do to keep our city safe Officer," he dipped his chin and stared at her chest for a moment before adding, "Beckett."
"Kate."
He smiled a bit wider. "I'm Rick. I'd shake but…" He cringed while holding up his leash filled hands.
She shook her head and took two steps back, knowing she needed to return to her patrol. "It's fine, don't worry about it. Just make sure you get those birds out of your apartment after Christmas? I'm sure they violate some city codes."
"Trust me—that won't be a problem. And since I'm skipping the swans, the geese are the last of the water fowl."
He continued on his way for several steps before Kate stopped him, unable to suppress the curious questions now bouncing around her mind. "Wait—sorry. One thing: how are you going to get the milkmaids? I mean, you're not going to put a cow in your apartment, are you?"
He laughed. "I don't think the act of milking is part of the song so—no. As for the rest…would you like to find out?"
The twinkle she saw in his gaze made her heart flutter and she cleared her throat in an attempt to ignore the feeling. "What does that mean? How would I find out?"
"Do you have a business card?"
"Ah…yeah?"
He nodded his head towards his left side and said, "Put it in my pocket—If you want to, that is."
Kate paused with her hand above her pocket for several seconds, considering. She definitely did not need to insert herself into this man's holiday present to his daughter; that did not seem appropriate. Plus, she was still trying to decide where he fell on the sane-to-insane spectrum. Yet, he had extended his offer to her completely unprompted—and she was very curious about the milkmaids. Figuring he probably would never even give her a call, she pulled out one of his business cards, and tucked it into the left pocket of his jacket.
"Thanks," he said with a grin. "I'll be in touch, Kate."
Then, with that, he continued coaxing the birds down the sidewalk. Kate watched for another minute with an amused smile on her face before turning around and getting back to work.
Kate hurried along the dark city sidewalk, dipping her chin into the open collar of her jacket to protect at least some of her face from the biting night air. She glanced at the address on the building closest to her and figured she had less than half a block to go, but she saw no marquees up ahead. With further thought, she decided that was not entirely surprising. After all, how big of a theatre could an individual rent for a live-action performance of the Twelve Days of Christmas song for only one main audience member?
With her hands stuffed deep into her pockets, Kate walked for another minute before arriving at a black door labeled "Theater" but with no other markings. She instinctively reached out for the handle, but before she grasped it she jumped back as though it might be a burning hot coal. Cursing beneath her breath she asked herself for perhaps the tenth time that day: what the hell was she doing?
Four days earlier she had received a text message from an unknown number with an address, date and time, and the statement "Hope you can make it – Rick." She was baffled for several minutes before she recalled the man with the geese and the pieces came together in her mind. A quick web search of the address revealed it to be a theatre and thus she deduced that this would be the grand finale of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Kate immediately chuckled at the thought of the young girl and the birds now filling her apartment, but simultaneously decided that she would not attend the event as it was most likely meant for immediate family only.
Then, the day before, she had been in her cruiser waiting for her partner to come out of the McDonald's with their coffee, when a version of that song came on the radio. She thought with fond amusement of the man corralling the geese down the sidewalk and thought...well, why not? If the event was truly meant for family members only, Rick could have simply just not extended an invitation. With how busy she was with her work schedule, she probably would have forgotten about the man and his geese until after Christmas anyway. And even if she had thought of it again, she certainly would not have been offended if the invitation never arrived.
She thought about it for the remainder of her shift and decided that she would go to the performance. Then, by the following morning, she'd talked herself out of it again, and had been waffling ever since. Finally, that afternoon, she decided the curiosity she had with regards to seeing what Rick had organized was unable to be suppressed; however, she did promise herself to stay in the back of the theatre, thus enabling herself to make a quick escape if necessary.
Now, standing in front of the theatre doors, she once again felt silly—as though she was intruding when she shouldn't. This was slightly irrational since she had been invited, but she could not shake the feeling. She continued to back away from the black door until she almost backed into someone who said, "Whoa—excuse me."
"Oh! I'm so sor…ry…" Kate's apology drifted off when she spun around and found herself face-to-face with a man wearing a toy soldier costume complete with the oversized black hat. He held a cigarette between his lips, but after one more puff he flicked it away and stepped around her to enter the theatre. Kate stared at the door for several more seconds before throwing her hands up and following the toy-soldier-man inside. Now that she'd seen at least part of the elaborate costumes, she had to see the rest.
After walking tentatively through a narrow hall, Kate found herself standing in the back of a very small theatre that perhaps sat a hundred or a hundred and fifty patrons. For the most part, the seats were empty, yet the small stage was filled with more toy soldier men like the one she'd seen, only all of them carried drums. In addition, she saw women wearing milkmaid costumes, men and women dressed for the ballet, and a handful of others holding smaller woodwind instruments and assumed these were the "pipers" from the song.
Kate was too distracted with counting the number of people on stage to see if there really were the song-equivalent of each and thus did not notice a man approaching her until he greeted her with a cheerful, "Hey! You made it!"
Startled, Kate jumped, and then gave a half-embarrassed smile as she began to unzip her coat. "Y-yeah, I did. I, um, this is…how on earth did you do all this?" she asked with amazement as she gestured towards the stage filled with fifty people.
He gave a coy shrug as he slipped his hands down into his pants pockets. "I know people."
Her brow line reached the middle of her forehead as she countered with, "You know people? What does that mean?"
He gestured towards the front of the theatre were a woman with fiery-red hair stood beside a little girl with a long braid in a matching shade. "My mother is an actress, so I have theatre contacts thanks to her."
"A Broadway actress?"
He shook his head. "Off-Broadway. Very far off, as it happens."
"I see. And that's Alexis standing with her?"
"Mmhmm."
Kate watched the girl as she pointed excitedly towards the stage. When she lifted her gaze, she could see that the toy solider men were beginning to line up, as were the dancers; the show was about to begin. Still amazed at the spectacle, Kate turned back to the man beside her and said, "You clearly love your daughter very much."
The man smiled broadly. "That's very kind of you to say. She's used to me spinning stories and I thought…why not try and bring a story to life."
"Stories?"
He hummed and nodded. "I'm a writer."
"Playwright?"
"No, novelist. I write mysteries under the name Richard Castle."
Kate nearly fell over. Richard Castle? All that time she'd been talking to Richard Castle? But she hadn't recognized him! In person he looked much more rugged than on the back cover of his books—not that he was unattractive. It simply wasn't what she was expecting. "You—you're Richard Castle?"
He looked mildly surprised. "You've heard of me?"
"Yes I…I have a ticket to go to your signing in January," she confessed, then felt immediately embarrassed that she had done so. The writer did not look a bit ruffled, though. He expression only grew brighter.
"Really? Well, then I'm glad we bumped into each other."
"Yeah, I…sorry." She muttered and dusted her fingertips over her brow. "I'm still surprised I didn't recognize you."
"Don't be. I'm sure you didn't expect to find your favorite author walking a bunch of birds down the sidewalk…"
Kate immediately felt her embarrassment replace itself with something else… something she could not quite put her finger on, but it definitely lit a spark inside her belly. Tilting her head to the side slightly, she said, "I don't think I said you were my favorite author."
He shrugged. "One of your favorites, then. Why else would you want to meet me?" He added with a wink. Then, without missing a beat, he continued. "Before I forget: we're having a little get together after the performance and I'd love it if you would join us."
"Oh no I shouldn't," she said immediately. Watching the show was one thing, but an after party would definitely be for the family.
"Yeah come on. You made it this far. Unless you have somewhere else to be…?"
She shrugged and shook he head, trying to come up with an excuse on the fly. "No, no it's…it's just been a long week."
"I'm sure. Just stay for one drink? Everything's already set up back stage."
"Ah…" she hedged, but Rick's continued intense stare ultimately won her over. "Yeah, okay. One drink."
"Great. Oh I guess we're getting started—take a seat anywhere," he said, gesturing towards the front of the theatre. He then took two steps away and turned back to say, "Oh and Kate? Merry Christmas."
She let out a soft laugh as she said, "Merry Christmas to you too." Then she took a seat in the back row, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for the show to begin.
A/N - Thank you for reading & Happy Holidays!
Also thanks to Lou, who helped with the inspiration for this piece!