Entrances and Exits, Chapter 1

Warning: This story contains small details about changes for Castle's eighth season.

"Victoria? You got a minute?"

Bill Hastings walks into her office and sits down. As the head of Internal Affairs, he's surprisingly unorthodox, especially by the standards of NYPD. Some of his smaller quirks include calling people by their first names and immediately entering a room after he knocks.

"One second." Victoria Gates finishes reading the report before looking up at her boss. "Good morning, Bill."

He nods to her computer. "Reading the report on the Duvon shooting?"

"It's a tragedy."

"Marshall recommended closing the investigation?"

"Tragedy it may be, but the officers involved acted within the law."

"They shot a vet with a prosthetic arm."

For the first four months Gates worked with Bill, she worried whenever he questioned her decision, assumed she had missed something. Then she figured out that Bill was the type of guy who liked playing devil's advocate, especially when he agreed. He pokes and prods because he likes to make sure his people have dotted their i's and crossed their t's.

"They shot a vet with a prosthetic who ran from a crime scene, refused to stop when they requested that he stop, and knocked down an 85-year-old woman with a bum hip in his attempt to flee the scene."

Bill's expression remains passive. "Guy had on a Marine Corp hat."

"Something you can buy at hundreds of locations just in New York. In fact, if you read the report, you'll find it wasn't even an official Marine Corp hat. It was a knock off." Gates leans back. Once she figured out Bill's style, she liked working with him, liked being forced to defend her positions. "As someone who did a stint as military police in Fallujah, you would think our veteran would know the importance of stopping and doing as the police say."

"Still going to piss off the veterans' groups."

"Yes, well, I'm not sending two young officers up the creek to meaninglessly placate people who should be focusing on the multitude of actual problems facing their constituents."

Bill rubs his left hand across his mouth. "I will say this. If NYPD had to shoot a veteran, at least this case is pretty cut and dry."

Gates studies Bill. He's dragging his feet. Despite the threatened protests by veterans' groups, this case isn't controversial or high profile enough to take up this much of Bill Hastings's time. "Why you really stopping by, Bill?"

"They went with Robbins."

Gates holds his eye as she nods and forces a smile. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"You're better qualified than he is," Bill says. "But – "

"Politics are politics," Gates says with a note of finality. "He's got an uncle at 1PP and his Daddy's high up in the DA's office."

"You're no slouch yourself," Bill says with a raise of his eyebrow. "Lots of cops in your family."

"Yes, but they were beat cops. No Granddaddy who was deputy commissioner." Gates briefly taps her index finger on her desk but stops before it seems a nervous tic. "You don't survive in the NYPD as long as I have without knowing this force runs on politics, nepotism, and backroom deals."

"Still not right." Bill had been the one to push Gates to apply for the open spot at 1PP. Her not getting this position is a bit of the rejection for him too, a sign that for all his maneuvering and networking, there are bigger, savvier fish in the sea.

"Look at it this way, Bill, now you don't have to let me go."

"Actually, I do." Bill folds his hands over his ever-expanding midsection. "Remember that incident out of the 12th a few weeks back?"

It takes Gates to remember the details. "Roy Montgomery. Another tragedy. He was one of the good ones."

"You knew the guy?"

Gates inclines her head in an indifferent motion. "Not well, although we did have a date my first year on the force."

Bill chuckles. "No kidding? I'd say you know him pretty well then."

"Not at all." Gates raises her eyebrows for emphasis. "It was a blind date set up by friends who seemed to think we'd get along because we were both black police officers from similar backgrounds. Montgomery was nice enough, but the evening was awkward."

That night, Victoria hadn't pegged Roy Montgomery as someone who would rise to the rank of captain. If anything, she'd thought he'd be off the force in five years. It was a good lesson for her: being smart and intuitive doesn't always equate to being right.

"We saw each other at a handful of events over the years, nodded and exchanged a few words of small talk, introduced our respective spouses, but no, I didn't know him well." While Gates talks, her mind cycles through what Montgomery's death has to do with her. Finishing her story, an unfortunate possibility pops into her head. "No. You know I have no interest in heading up a precinct."

"It's technically a promotion," Bill says in confirmation.

Gates shakes her head. "Technically, yes, it is a promotion, but you and I both know the work we do here is much more important."

Gates likes Internal Affairs. They're the gatekeepers for the rest of the force. Heading up a precinct feels like being banished to preside over a backwater town after existing within the corridors of power.

"I think it'd be good for you," Bill drawls. Every once in a while, the dregs of his Texas upbringing surface. "I'm gonna miss having you on my team, but you'll be good at this. You and I both know the city could use more people heading up precincts with your commitment to justice and dedication to the law."

For a moment, Gates relaxes back into her chair, lets her frustration shine through. "I apply for a promotion and end up feeling like I got demoted."

"Think it over" is all Bill says before he escapes from Gates's office.

Gates watches Bill's considerable girth move down the hall. She hasn't been on the front lines in over a decade. She's used to reviewing cases. Internal Affairs, for all the similarity of skills, is a different beast than bread-and-butter police work.

And it occurs to her: she's scared. She's scared that maybe she won't be able to do the job, maybe she's been in IA long enough that she won't be able to adapt to the mad rush of a precinct and open cases and moving targets. That fear settles it for her. If it scares her, it's what she should be doing.

Captain of the 12th Precinct. It has a nice ring to it.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. I adore Penny Johnson Jerald and think she's given Captain Gates a lot of humanity and personality beyond what was on the page. Since it seems, at this point, that Gates is not getting an official send-off on the show, I wanted to try and give her one here. This story is complete, and I'll be posting twice a week.

As a warning, I'm borrowing the show's lax interpretation of the NYPD's regulations, ranks, and promotions.