Close Encounters 12: Dr No

Beckett checked her watch and scraped a hand through her hair, coming up on her toes in the bathroom. The mirror gave back an image she didn't quite recognize, a woman with too much bone, a woman still shadowed. She didn't like it, and she turned her face away.

Thirty seconds.

She paced to the bathroom door and back again, arms crossed over her chest, counting slowly to herself as she tried not to think about it. Tried not to have expectations.

It was warm in the bathroom - even for December - the tile heated under her bare toes. She'd left the office early for a therapy appointment with King, but it was her last one for the year. Next session wasn't until the middle of January; it felt liberating to be down to once a month.

Time.

Kate checked her watch just to be sure and then she headed back for the sink and the little plastic stick waiting there. But she could tell before she even picked it up.

Not pregnant.

Just late again, still not regular.

Not pregnant.

She let out a slow breath, relief and disappointment both, and she wrapped the pregnancy test in toilet paper and threw it away. As she washed her hands, she avoided her own gaze in the mirror. She'd have to tell him tonight, and she didn't look forward to that.

It was nearly Christmas; part of her had wanted a new reason to celebrate since the holiday was already so mired in the past for them both. But no. This was good. They still had so much to do.

Kate switched off the bathroom light and stepped into the bedroom, pausing before the wide windows, the weak winter sun barely touching her face. She'd meant to go back to work after this.

But she turned and crawled into bed.

Castle yanked the tie from around his neck and rubbed at the raw place against his adam's apple. He hated long days like this, hated how rundown it made him lately. He hadn't brought it up - not sure there was anything to bring up - but he thought maybe he was getting a cold.

He wasn't sure he'd ever had the common cold before. But his body ached, his joints, he got these ridiculously intense headaches, and he felt every one of his forty-four years today.

He dropped his keys over the elephant's trunk, heard them clink sharply against hers, and then he reset the alarm with a sigh. He wanted a drink and a shower and to crawl into bed, lay his head in her lap and have her run her cool fingers through his hair.

He'd been up for nineteen hours straight on this latest project and Beckett had been in and out of his meetings all day, but they hadn't gotten a chance to really connect. He missed her. She'd left early for a therapy appointment with King and he hadn't even gotten to kiss her good-bye.

Castle grunted and realized he was standing stupidly inside his front door. He popped the buttons on his cuffs and toed off his shoes, left them in the entryway even though he knew she always tripped on them. He couldn't help it; he was so tired and he wanted to see her. Fill up his eyes with her.

He mounted the stairs slowly, the stillness downstairs already letting him know she wasn't in the kitchen, and his phone hadn't alerted him that the panic room was open. When he got to the hall, he called her name softly, the quiet upstairs both delicate and tender.

Sasha met him in the doorway to the bedroom, tail wagging at his arrival, a nudge of his hand with her nose. The dog seemed to glance back over her shoulder and Castle followed the puppy's gaze to find Kate curled under the covers, asleep.

His stomach flipped, but he ignored the way panic so quickly seemed to fill him these days whenever he saw her looking less. Instead he scrubbed Sasha behind the ears for being such a good guard dog, and then he crawled into bed with his wife.

It was seven o'clock on a Wednesday, but she was sound asleep and he wanted to follow.

Castle softly kissed the rise of her shoulder, buried his nose at the back of her neck where her hair spilled over the pillow, his eyelashes tangling in it. He eased his arm around her waist and brought them closer, his knees bracketing hers, and he let his eyes close.

It felt good. He didn't know if this was because of therapy or something else, but he'd be here when she woke.

She waited until they were settled on the Ugly Couch with their plates before she broached the subject. He was flipping through channels and wrinkling his nose at the listings recorded on their DVR, but she took the remote out of his hand to get his attention.

Castle didn't look too surprised, but his eyes did track the remote for a second, like he couldn't help it.

"I took a pregnancy test and it was negative."

His breath rushed out, part gasp and part body blow, and it took everything in her to keep herself under control, face closed; she didn't want to break over this. Over nothing.

"You took it alone," he murmured. His hand dropped to her knee but his eyes avoided hers. "I'm sorry."

"No need for an apology," she sighed. She wished he would look at her; it would help to know what he felt about this. Sometimes he compartmentalized better than she did.

"I guess you're late?"

She hummed something like agreement that meant really she was just - off. Still off. Still not right, and that made her furious in a way she didn't like to look at.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and this time she knew what he was apologizing for. Russia. She didn't want that either. Beckett pressed her shoulder to his and returned the remote, kissing his jaw softly.

"We'll keep trying," she murmured. "Or well, keep not preventing it, okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly. His eyes turned to meet hers now, determination in them. Maybe he'd just been afraid to show her how much he wanted it until he knew she did too. "Yeah, it's only been six months. And we're still rebounding from everything."

"It'll happen," she said softly, uncurling her fist and wriggling her fingers against his. "Just takes time."

"But I'm ready now," he sighed. Plaintive, a little sad, but some of it obviously colored like melodrama to ease her heart. "I want to meet him."

She nudged down next to him, balancing her plate on her lap as Castle started scrolling through television stations again. She wanted to meet him too, wanted to see him - he was as real as anything she'd ever known and he didn't even exist yet.

"What if it's a girl?" she asked then.

"Then I'm toast," he groaned. "A girl? I have no idea how to do that."

She smiled and picked up her fork, shifting to sit straighter so she could eat, and Castle found an episode of that 1980s-set spy show he liked. They settled in to watch tv and ignore whatever else might be wrong.

She didn't want something to be wrong.

Her phone call came into him at noon while she was out picking up takeout for their office. Castle almost didn't take it because he was elbow deep in wire transfers that he could almost see an end to, but if they didn't have the meat loaf he wanted, he'd have to pick something else.

And Bryce was at the station next to him, looking a little too interested in his work.

Castle grabbed the phone. "Just get me the chicken," he answered.

"Castle, I've picked up a tail."

"What?" He jerked upright in his chair.

"That's not helpful."

"Shit," he breathed, before snapping into action. He blanked his screen and pushed the satellite to the main projection, fixing it bright and wide at the center of the room. He put her on speaker and called up the info for her GPS location. "You're on speaker. Give it to me."

"I'm at Fifth and-"

"East 106th," he supplied, watching the dot track her movement now. "On foot. Head for the metro at 103rd, Kate. We'll see if we can't get eyes on him."

"Lunch'll get cold."

There was a collective groan from the other occupants of the command center - Bryce the loudest, little rat - and Castle shook his head at them. "Ignore them. This will take as long it takes. Procedure says-"

"I know," she interrupted. "I'm headed to the subway. I think there's a car too."

"A car?" He felt ice water drench his guts and pressed his finger and thumb into the bridge of his nose. "Describe it." He lifted his head and snapped his fingers at Malone, but the guy already had traffic cams rotating through on his work station.

"Burgundy Xterra," Kate said after a pause. "I think he knows I've spotted him."

"An Xterra has been following you?" he said quietly. For a grab - that was the only thing he could possibly imagine. "Mitchell. Mitch, get guys on the ground to intercept Beckett."

"Castle," she growled.

"A car's following one of my team - no way in hell I'm leaving my guy alone," he shot back. "Don't argue with me."

She huffed over the phone. "The car hasn't been creeping down the street after me, no. Just - I've seen it four times in the last week. NSA sticker on the front windshield. Like that time-"

"Bracken," he growled. Shit, not what he needed right now. "Mitchell? Get-"

"I'm on it. Calling a guy I know," Mitchell said back. He had his phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder even as he was tasking a group of agents towards Beckett's position.

"Kate," he murmured. "Get off at a random stop. Don't tell me until after you exit."

"It's a secure line," she protested.

"Yeah, well." Bryce was right here and even though Castle didn't really think the IT specialist was involved in this, he wasn't taking chances with her life.

Kate sighed but they both knew what it felt like - what the last few months had felt like. Her physical therapist disappearing, the lack of follow through on Black in North Africa, Bryce dogging their steps. He didn't know what this was, maybe just the NSA reminding their CIA counterparts that they had no jurisdiction here, but whatever it was - he didn't like it.

"Be safe," he said tightly.

"I'll let you know."

He wanted to demand that she stay on the line, but he knew she needed to have her focus solely on the job. Still, he said what he wanted to say despite the fact that the CIA recorded everything.

"Love," he said shortly.

"You too."

She'd only gotten a block from the subway station - she'd chosen a line at random and it had pushed her farther from the Office - when she heard footsteps behind her. She picked up her pace and angled her trajectory to take her right alongside an office building's sleek windows, holding her breath until she caught the image reflected back at her.

She grunted and pulled out her phone again, called Castle. "You sent the boys to intercept me?"

"They were closer," he said without greeting either.

She paused by the office building and waited for Esposito and Ryan to catch up, saw Ry's lifted grin, the little wave he gave her as he came forward eagerly. Espo looked tense, ready for battle, and she sighed into her phone.

"Does this mean they're on board?"

"You'll have to ask them," Castle replied. "I'll let you rendezvous. Take your time getting back."

"I know," she murmured and ended the connection just as Ryan got to her. He gave her a hug even though it hadn't really been that long - just a few months ago she'd been at the 12th to harass them - and Espo deigned to give her a fist bump.

"Sorry, guys. I didn't mean for him to call you."

"His agents weren't close enough. Glad he did," Espo said shortly, shrugging in his jacket. She felt the winter wind now herself as the adrenaline drained out of her system, and she nodded towards the crosswalk.

"You guys with me until the end?" she murmured. She hadn't meant for it to sound so final, like such a committed undertaking, but they both took it that way. Ryan looked to Espo and Espo looked back at Ryan, both of them saying things she wasn't privy to.

"We are," Esposito said firmly. "We got your back."

"We're a team," Ryan said. His voice was quiet but held that deadly certainty she'd come to rely on from him. He'd always been the lighthouse for their team, guiding them through rough waters. She knew what it meant to have him at her side.

"You guys don't have to do this," she said quickly. "Ryan, you don't-"

"I know. I've thought about it-"

"Took his sweet time-" Espo interrupted.

"-And I've made a decision. Jenny and I are both good with this. Though she doesn't love that so much of the job will be classified, she did point out that I don't do much talking about my NYPD cases as it is."

"Plus it's more money and the team is back together," Esposito said casually. "Your boy promised us we could skip a lot of the crap they put new recruits through, start working as consultants until we get clearances."

"Yeah," she affirmed. "That's how it would work. But you'd both have to do training at some point - even you, Ry. Even if you're staying stateside."

"I know," he nodded. "Can't be worse than Espo's horror stories about Ranger training."

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, but she wouldn't demolish his illusions just yet. Besides, maybe the training for Ryan in his support staff capabilities would be different.

"Castle also promised me that I'd have your back," Esposito mentioned, giving her a long look.

She narrowed her eyes. "I've heard something about that. You do know that's not possible. And besides, Castle and I are cutting back. His job lies more coordinating things here, and we're partners. So-"

"So you're here?" Espo asked, like he didn't believe it. "I can't see that lasting long. Not you, Beckett."

She didn't want to try to explain how they were not not-trying to get pregnant, how it would happen no matter what Espo thought she needed. "We'll see."

"All right, let's get this show on the road," Ryan said then, hands on his hips as he surveyed the street. "Did the guy follow you here?"

"I stepped off at the last second, so no. I don't think so. But they could've had someone in place to pick me up as I came out."

"What about the Xterra?" Espo asked.

"Gone."

"Then let's wander the city for an hour or so and see what shakes out," he growled, already striding forward.

She shared a look with Ryan, a smirk because they both knew that Esposito had to be practically giddy at his move to the CIA, and she started following.

But Ryan caught her sleeve and held her back a moment. "I gotta tell you now, before we run out of time. Jenny and I are pregnant."

Her heart stopped and thundered back to life once more; she threw her arms around Ryan's neck and laughed, squeezing him hard. "Oh, Kev. I'm so happy for you guys."

"That's what decided me," he said into her embrace. He stepped back with a blush in his cheeks. "Being a support agent means more time inside the building, less on the street and in the line of fire."

She clutched his arm as he started walking, her joy for them flavored with a wild and surging hope for herself and Castle, and Ryan paused again to wait for her to catch up.

"I'm glad, Ry. Glad you're coming to the dark side."

He pierced her with a long look and then nodded. "But - uh - I need a promise from you."

"Anything," she said, matching his steps now as they followed the lone scout of Esposito's form.

"If he's stuck out there and I'm back here - you promise me Castle goes after him as hard as he goes after you."

Her breath caught and she glanced swiftly to Espo, then back to Ryan. "He will," she promised. Castle would do it for her, but more than that, Castle was a man of honor. Just like Esposito. "You guys are our team. Our family. We don't leave our own."

He nodded and opened his mouth to say something but Esposito called out from ahead of them. "You guys done acting like girls at a slumber party? We got places to be."

The tension broke just like that. She and Ryan caught up with Espo and it was the three of them again, like it'd been in the beginning, their lives on the line and covering each other's backs.

She had missed them more than she'd known.

It was five o'clock and Castle had been thinking about calling it a day. Beckett had finally arrived with Esposito and Ryan in tow; she was still showing them around the Office, getting them acclimated to the level of restrictions that would be in place. They weren't officially transferred, but he'd already put in a request to 1PP for their assistance in an ongoing investigation.

Bracken.

He wanted to get this guy. Of course, now he was worried that they'd made waves, since an NSA-tagged vehicle had been creeping after Beckett. Didn't mean-

A phone call came into the command center and ruined his concentration; he didn't know why it seemed so momentous, only that it had his attention. He wasn't the one who fielded it - Malone was working the phones as part of an in-house sweep on their internet lines - but he saw Mal's face the moment he heard whatever was being said on the line.

"Shit," Castle muttered. There went the quiet evening at home he'd hoped for, ensconced within the sheltering, armored walls of his brownstone on Broome Street.

"Boss," Malone said thickly.

Castle winced and felt his hand clutch around his own phone. "What've we got?"

"We got a body," he said.

Castle closed his eyes - just a moment, just one brief flickering second to feel the exhaustion and defeat wash over him - and then he opened his eyes and steeled himself for it.

"Tell Beckett," he said quietly. "And let's go."

It was strange and wrong to be walking down the dock alongside the East River like she was back in the 12th Precinct again and rolling up to a body. It was even their turf, and she had Espo and Ryan winging her as she strode across the concrete behind Castle.

Their team.

Castle had been tight-lipped; no one had made a positive ID yet. She got the feeling that was because they were waiting on her. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. She had dread tingling in her fingers and making her lips feel numb.

Ryan and Esposito talked in low voices behind her, disturbing that sanctity she'd always insisted upon, and she supposed that after a couple years without her, they'd formed their own rituals and routines when it came to approaching a body.

The East River was rank this close to the industrial complex, and more than a few guys turned their heads away. But none of them put a hand to their nose, none of them looked disrespectful, and she knew that was because of Agent Richard Castle. He led by example, and at least here, he didn't look anything other than determined.

She realized now how strict a control he held over himself, how much of his natural personality he had to suppress when he was in the field. She knew the man who laid in her lap and told her dirty jokes when she couldn't fall asleep after a nightmare; she knew the man who'd bought her an herb garden and gotten soft and sweet about the little stuffed elephant he'd gotten her for her birthday last month.

She knew the smile and the tease and the laughter, and no one here saw that.

"What've we got?" he said quietly, calling to the forensic tech who stood with his camera in hand and a sour look on his face.

"Deceased is male. Tentative ID but we were waiting on you for a positive." He shook hands with Castle and her husband straightened up and stepped closer to the edge of the dock. The East River lapped below, the sound of water hitting concrete and doing its best to erode, constant and immutable, timeless.

"Beckett," he said to her then, turning slightly. "Come look at this."

She didn't like the depersonalized pronoun - this instead of him - but she stepped to the edge and looked down. For a moment, all she saw was the bright white of the crime scene tech guys' spotlight dancing off the black ink of the water, but then the half-submerged thing came up like an answer in an eight ball.

She gasped and closed her eyes, but still the image remained.

"Fezzik," she whispered.

Castle sighed, heavy and weighed down. "It's Robert Prose. He's a CIA-vetted and licensed physical therapist."

"That's a positive ID?" the tech asked calmly.

"Positive ID," Beckett replied, squaring her shoulders. She glanced up at Castle and then back to the boys still flanking her like a war party. "He was supposed to be in charge of my PT after Russia. He never called me back."

There was a moment of silence, the whole dock yard quiet and painted in the pulsing red and blue lights of the local police cars, the Homeland Security van, and the three unmarkeds from the CIA pool itself.

Castle grunted and ended the silence, put a hand to her hip in a brief gesture before he turned back to the men waiting on his word.

"Time to call Secret Service. It's a task force now."