Summary: Post-Watershed. After confiding in her loved ones, Beckett made her decision about the job in D.C. It takes the advice of someone unexpected to change her mind.
Here is my two months too late, obligatory post-finale fic. I was inspired by rewatching 1x09 Little Lost Girl, and I recommend you all do so as well. There are some poignant parallels.
Disclaimer: As a soon-to-be struggling college student, I can tell you for a fact, I own nothing.
Edit: To my hateful Guest reviewer, I'm sorry that you didn't enjoy this fic, but I'm afraid you were missing the point entirely. This goes for anyone that felt I was being unfair to Kate or stereotypical? I recommend you go back and watch 1x09 Little Lost Girl to fully understand what I was going for here. In the episode, Will Sorenson and Beckett had a conversation with striking parallels to the argument between our dynamic duo in the season 5 finale. Beckett faulted her ex-boyfriend for the same exact things she did to Castle. I'm not talking just about the job, but the fact that she didn't include him in the decision. In this story, I tried to convey not only that Kate missed her partner, but that she wasn't fitting in at her job either. Beckett speaks for the dead, and in the D.C. setting, she wasn't able to work the way she did best. That being said, I'm also a 100% believer that in no way does being in love make a female character any less independent or kick-ass. Kate made the decision because the relationship made her happy and so did her old job. Kate made the decision for Kate, and I wouldn't write it any other way. Once again, I'm sorry you didn't get the point I was trying to make. If you want to discuss this further, I'd appreciate it if you messaged me under an actual username instead of hiding behind an anonymous face.
Kate Beckett fastens the buttons of her dark blazer, hands clumsy and clammy in the muggy, morning air. It's hot and unbearably humid, and her apartment's air conditioning stopped working last week, but she didn't have the time to call someone about it. Tonight, she decides, she will phone the landlord, or else she might actually drown in a puddle of her own sweat.
She breezes through her kitchen like a tornado, a roll of paper towels falling victim in her path and skittering across the tile, unraveling, but she doesn't have time to worry about it. Traffic downtown is a bitch at this hour, and she's running late as it is.
The coffee sloshes from the carafe into her travel mug, splashing up to burn her fingers in her haste to pour it, and she lets out a string of curses. Damn coffee. Damn work. God damn it.
Her phone buzzes in the pocket of her slacks, and she sets down the coffee to fish for it, bringing it up to her ear.
"Agent Beckett."
She meets one of her teammates at the scene. Special Agent Carl Bartlow. He's not her partner. She doesn't have one here, but none of the agents do. Sometimes they work cases together, sometimes she does fieldwork on her own.
Of course, there hasn't been much in the way of fieldwork yet. The first two months on the job were mostly training - anything from handling firearms to dealing terrorist threats - and paperwork. Her studies were demanding, the hours grueling. Certainly not conducive to any type of personal life.
And so her greatest fears were realized. Her relationship with Castle has...suffered to say the least. Of course, he wasn't happy when she turned down his proposal, but things have only become more strained since then.
She had her reasons for refusing. They hadn't yet talked about marriage or even about moving in together. There were just too many things left unsaid, and she didn't want to risk staying solely for their relationship and then living to regret him for it.
And she really, honest to goodness thought they could survive this, that maybe it could make them stronger in the end. But she hasn't had the time to eat or sleep properly let alone work on them.
He's been down to visit her a grand total of three times since she made the move almost three months ago. Something always came up. Usually, it was her fault, her new responsibilities getting in the way, and she can barely stand herself for it.
They text daily and talk a few times a week, but each phone call has him sounding more and more somber, and they leave her feeling weary afterwards.
Kate thinks she might be able to take a three-day weekend sometime soon, now that she's established her place on the AG's team. She'll make the trip back to New York. She'll visit with her friends and have lunch with her dad and spend two nights in Castle's bed, reminding him over and over that she loves him more than this job that requires so much from her. And everything will be okay. It has to be.
Back to the matter at hand, Bartlow waves her forward, lifts the yellow caution tape for her to duck under. This case is serious, high-profile, and she's humbled to finally get the chance to show them what she's got.
The woman's body lies in a pile of wood chips stained red with her blood. A bullet through the heart by a long-range shooter, a professionally trained sniper, from the looks of it.
"Sandra Cortez," her colleague says. "More importantly, nanny to five-year-old Kendra Gage, daughter of Warren Gage. He's a researcher involved in a sensitive project for the Attorney General," explains Bartlow, and Beckett wonders if 'researcher' is code word for 'spy.' Castle would probably think so. "We believe that whoever assassinated this woman also kidnapped the girl in an attempt to compromise Mr. Gage."
"Oh," she gasps, surveying the playground and the masses of people surrounding the yellow tape. "Witnesses?"
"The shooting happened in broad daylight, but no one here can confirm that they saw the abduction take place. She was here, and then she was gone."
"And her family?"
"They're being informed as we speak. Right now, it's our highest priority to get the girl back before Gage resorts to drastic measures that might threaten his mission."
Bartlow isn't unkind, but it's still so strange to her how unaffected all of her teammates seem, how calloused. They don't talk about their personal lives or spend time together outside of work or get invested in the safety of a little girl. Maybe this is just what the job does to them. Maybe it's happening to her now, little by little.
"We will be partnering with the FBI in the investigation. Naturally, they will be informed on a need-to-know basis. I expect your cooperation."
"Of course," she nods. "I've worked with the FBI before on a kidnapping case."
"You're not in the NYPD anymore, Dorothy." Carl Bartlow grins, a pointed jab, and she seethes as he walks away. Three months in, and she's still getting hazed.
"Beckett?" a familiar voice rings out from behind her, and she turns, coming face to face with none other than her ex-boyfriend, Will Sorenson.
"Will?" What are the chances? He's dressed in a standard blazer, black slacks, and dress shoes. Dark sunglasses rest on the bridge of his nose, but he removes them, as if to make sure it's really her. He looks good, and how long has it been? Five years?
"What are you doing here?" Of course he's confused. Last he knew, she was still a Detective at the NYPD, haunted by her mother's murder and avoiding long-term commitment. With a pang of sadness at the last part, she thinks maybe things haven't changed that much.
"I, uh, work for the Attorney General now. I'm an agent."
"Oh, wow." He seems surprised. "Wow. Congratulations. Moving up in the world, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so." She shifts uncomfortably. "You'll be working the kidnapping with us?"
"The FBI is willing to lend a hand to the investigation in whatever way we can," he chuckles. "How does it feel to have the upper hand this time around?"
"Huh?"
"Oh, well, you know. Cops hate feds, feds hate cops. Turns out, federal organizations don't always play so well together either."
This is all getting very surreal very fast, so she shifts their train of conversation back on track. "What have you gathered from the witnesses so far?"
A few days later, they find Kendra Gage locked up in a basement. She's cranky and tired, but otherwise just fine. Her captors fed her and allowed her to use the bathroom, told her they were just keeping her safe, and how was she to argue?
"I want Momma now," she sniffles into Kate's neck as they carry her out. "I miss her. I miss Daddy."
She pets the girl's hair, long and red. Reminds her of Alexis. "I know, Kendra. Your mom and dad will be here soon, and they'll be so proud of how brave you were."
There were partners in the kidnapping, one dead and one in custody. Americans involved in a terrorist plot against their own country. She's familiar with the concept of course, after the case with Radford Hayes and the bomb and the freezer, but it's still so disconcerting.
The tearful reunion occurs, SWAT team members file out, and Will comes to sit beside her, watching Gage cradle his daughter as she sleeps.
"Job well done," the FBI agent proclaims, and she hums in agreement. They saved a little girl today, and that's all that matters. "Want to go get a drink? Hang out a bit before I head off?"
She's taken aback by the offer, but it really does sound appealing. She's been seriously lacking human contact, and catching up with an old friend might be just the fix. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go get a drink."
They end up at her apartment because she's lived in D.C. for months now, but hasn't really lived, doesn't know any of the local hangouts or hot spots. Since he's stationed in Baltimore now, only got called down for this case, he doesn't know either. She pulls out a bottle of whiskey, and they sit and reminisce, and she laughs more than she has in weeks.
"I miss people," she blurts out stupidly. "I mean, I don't really have any friends here. In work, that is. Or outside of work."
"When did you take the job?"
"Made the decision back in May. I'm still the new guy." She sips at her drink, relishes in the burn of the alcohol after a couple long days. "I guess it's a different atmosphere than the Twelfth."
"Mmm, yeah. I get that. Especially in your line of work, I'm sure most people aren't used to forming personal attachments."
"My line of work," she repeats dumbly. It's more a question than a statement.
"Well, yeah," he grunts. "Mine too. Traveling place to place, getting transferred. But especially yours. You're gonna go places, Beckett. Don't put down too many roots, just keep moving up the ladder."
She lets that sink in a little. Does she really want that kind of life? "I'm getting used to D.C. still. New city, new apartment. Sorry about the air conditioning by the way."
Will chuckles, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt a little higher. "Isn't August supposed to cool off? This place is a safety hazard. You really ought to take care of yourself, Kate," he sobers, leaning towards her, hand stretched to her face.
"Woah." She uses her free hand to swat him away, roiling in the wave of déjà vu. "What are you doing?"
"It didn't work out too badly for me last time." She remembers the kiss they shared back at the precinct. Until Castle walked in with a wisecrack about cops and feds. Back then, he was so arrogant, so infuriating.
"I'm not going to have sex with you."
He frowns. "I wasn't asking you to. I just...it's nice to see you again. And I can't say that I don't think about us sometimes. How things could have been different. I'm sorry if I-"
"I have a boyfriend."
"What?" As if it's so hard to believe. "Here in Washington?"
"No," Kate shakes her head. "Back in New York. You know him, actually. I'm dating Castle."
"Castle?" he exclaims. "As in Richard Castle?"
"What other one is there?"
He's silent for a moment, then bursts out laughing, almost in hysterics. It's a strange sight to see. Even when they were together, he was still so serious. She was too. "Oh man. You know, I saw it coming. He followed you around like a puppy, and you were practically in love with his books."
She can't deny it. His books were a guiding light in such a dark time. "Shut up."
"So, you're sleeping together."
"We're dating," she corrects. "We're...we're pretty serious."
"Really?"
"I mean, at least we were," she murmurs. "The long distance thing has been hard on both of us. I'm not really sure where we stand." Turnabout is fair play. "What about you? No significant others?"
Will bows his head, seems very thoughtful. "The work we do, Kate, it doesn't really lend a hand to successful relationships. The last serious girlfriend I had, well, it was you. Not to say I didn't try with others, but-" he cuts off at the look on her face. "Are you surprised?"
"A little," she says, incredulously. "It's just a job. A wonderful opportunity. It's not my life. I've grown, Will. I've changed, and Castle's been a big part of that."
"So how did he react when you decided to move to D.C. and work for the Attorney General?"
"I didn't tell him at first," she admits. "So he was angry. I thought he was going to break up with me, but instead..." she stops, unsure of how much to disclose. She didn't tell anyone but her father about the proposal. Martha probably knows, and maybe Alexis does too, but that's it. "Instead, he didn't break up with me. He even offered to move here too if that's what I wanted."
"And that's not what you wanted?"
"I didn't want to force him to leave everything behind. He has a life in New York, a daughter and his mother and his own job."
"Hmmm." His forehead wrinkles, and she can see how time has worn him, even since they saw each other last. "When I asked you to move with me to Boston, you refused."
"I did," Beckett answers slowly. "What has that got to do with anything?"
"You thought it was unfair of me to ask you to move. You thought if I cared about our relationship, I wouldn't have accept the offer."
"I never said that!" she protests. "I was proud of you, but I couldn't leave New York. I had a career there, my mother's murder..."
"You said that it was a choice that didn't include you." Her own words hit her like a slap in the face. How could she have not noticed before, her own hypocrisy? "Maybe I was a fool to have let you go," he says quietly. "But it seems like history has a way of repeating itself."
Her head is spinning from his words and maybe the alcohol too. Oh, Castle. How could she have made such a huge mistake? These past few months have been hell, and she thought if she just worked a little harder, she could make a life for herself here. She was flattered by Agent Stack into thinking that this job could give her a greater purpose, but she couldn't have been more wrong.
"You'll probably be moving too, eventually. First D.C., Boston, then Phoenix, then Cleveland."
The way he repeats things from a conversation years ago, practically verbatim, is seriously creepy. "Is there anything you don't remember?"
"Not when it comes to you." He smiles gently, pouring another finger of liquid into his glass and downing it in one gulp. "You really like him, Kate?"
She sighs, twirling a stray strand of hair around her finger. "I do. I love him."
"Then take it from someone who's already made the same mistakes and has had to live with the consequences." He stands up, grabs his jacket, and makes his way to the door. "Dedicating your life to the job might be the safest bet, but some risks are worth taking."
If she believed in destiny or fate, she might also believe that this was meant to happen, that she was meant to work this case with her ex-boyfriend and have this conversation that made all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Maybe it was inevitable, but he gave her the extra push she needed. Sorenson of all people.
She knows what she has to do now.
"Will," Beckett calls out as he's about to leave, halfway through the door. He pauses. "Thank you."
And the man gives her a knowing nod, eyes full of empathy. "Goodbye, Kate."
She books the first flight she can find from Dulles International to JFK, traveling with nothing but the clothes on her back and her cellphone. Even the hour-long plane ride isn't enough to prepare for what she's going to say to Castle when she arrives. And it's two o'clock in the morning for God's sake. What was she thinking?
Kate made the decision on impulse. Usually she avoids doing things without thinking them through first. She's methodical, tactical. Definitely not impulsive, but Castle's been known to bring things out in her, sides and facets to her character that she either buried deep within herself after her mother was murdered or didn't even know existed.
Sometimes, she thinks he doesn't realize how much he's done for her, how good they are for each other. She needs to do a better job of showing him, starting now.
The key slides into the lock, and she turns it until the tumbler clicks. Her palm is sweaty against the doorknob. She wonders what she'll find inside. Will he be in his room, sleeping? Writing feverishly at his desk? Passed out on the couch in front of the TV?
Or maybe none of the above. She pushes open the door, and there he is, seated at the table with a mug and a sandwich in front of him.
"Kate?"
"Hi," she breathes. He looks so rumpled and adorable sitting there, like he just rolled out of bed. And just like that, she forgets everything that she'd planned to tell him. "Uh, late night snack?"
Castle blinks his sleepy eyes, confused. "I-I woke up. Couldn't fall back to sleep. Forgot to eat dinner," he stammers. "Kate, what are you doing here?"
Damn it, she at least had some semblance of an explanation thought out on the way here. Why can't she remember? "I finished my case."
"Oh." The writer lifts a hand to run through his hair self-consciously. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting...wait, the kidnapping? Did everything turn out okay?"
"Yes. We found her, alive and well," she's quick to soothe his fears. It makes sense for him to think that the only reason she would come here in the middle of the night would be to seek comfort after a hard loss. "She's with her family now."
"Thank goodness. You had me worried there." The corners of his mouth turn up in a smile that has her heart doing backflips. It's been much too long since she last saw him. "You really are saving the world."
"No, not the world. Just a little girl." The satisfaction she feels shouldn't be so surprising. She can't believe that Stack made her - for even a second - feel like what she did as a cop was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Getting justice, one life at a time. "Plus, I had some help."
"Right, right. How was it to work with Sorenson again?" She kept him updated as much as she could through texts. He doesn't sound jealous at all, but maybe just a bit insecure.
"Interesting for sure. Enlightening, actually. He had a lot to say, made me realize some things."
He looks down into the mug of coffee in front of him, contemplative. "What kinds of things?"
"These past few months have been hellish. And I'm not just talking about the job. I'm talking about us. The lack thereof," she clarifies before realizing she's still standing by his door. "I can't have this conversation when you're all the way over there."
He stands, abandoning his meal at the table and guiding her to the sofa. "Let's sit down."
She accepts the gesture and sinks into the black leather with a groan. "I've missed your furniture." But then more seriously, "I've missed you. So much, Castle. You have no idea how much I've missed you."
"I have some idea." He frowns, and she curses herself internally. Of course he does. "I've missed you too. Do you have a few days off? I didn't see any bags."
"I didn't bring any. Wasn't planning very far ahead."
"No?" She laughs in answer. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing. It's not like me, you know, to not have a plan. But I think I had an epiphany." She grabs his hand and squeezes tight. "A moment of clarity. I had a few drinks with Will-"
"You've been drinking?" he squeaks, and he just had to latch onto that.
"Not like that. Not enough. Let me finish." He closes his mouth. "We were talking, and he gave me some invaluable advice about the job and about us. At least, after he was done teasing me."
"You told your ex-boyfriend about us?"
"Sure I did. Rick, you're the most important person in my life." He has that look on his face. It's the same look he wore when she planned that elaborate surprise and when she gave him a drawer for Valentine's Day. Overcome. "And as the most important person in my life, I realize now that I've treated you very unfairly."
"It's all forgiven, Kate. Really. I'm sorry for the things I said too."
"You don't have to forgive me, Castle, and the last thing you have to do is apologize. You were right to call me out on my shit. Looking back, I can't believe how stupid I was, too stubborn to realize the truth."
"Maybe stubborn, but not stupid. You're brilliant. Extraordinary. It's why you got the job with the Attorney General. It's...it's why I asked you to marry me."
She has to swallow hard to keep from crying. "That job was everything I would have strived for five years ago. It was a wonderful opportunity."
"Was is past tense."
"So astute," she jokes. "Everything is so impersonal. I barely have co-workers, let alone friends. I work over seventy hours a week. My apartment is so empty..."
"I offered to help remedy that part, you know. And I didn't ask you to be my wife in a last-ditch effort to keep you here. I just wanted to show you that I was committed to this, wherever you ended up. I did it because I wanted to be with you from the moment I met you, and that's not going to change any time soon."
"I know you did, but I think I have a different solution."
His blue eyes project questions and seek out the answers. "Do tell."
"When Will asked me to move to Boston with him, I didn't go. I was disappointed. I thought we had something real, and he made a decision that sacrificed our relationship. And, Castle, I did the same damn thing to you. I fell back into old habits. I thought this job would be able to make me more, but all it's done is limit me."
"I don't think I quite understand what you're saying."
"That's why I came home," she chokes out, pressing her nails into his palm. "I've made a mistake. I tried to deny it for months, but I'm already living with the consequences every day that I wake up in bed without you. I miss your coffee and the loft. I miss building theory. I miss the boys and Lanie and, yeah, even Captain Gates. I miss New York and, and-"
He cuts her off with his mouth against hers. His fingers thread through her hair and curve around her ear. "Kate, Kate, Kate."
"Castle," she gasps, clutching the terry cloth of his robe. A tear falls between them and travels the line between their faces, and she can't be sure to whom it belongs. "I'm here." She brushes her lips to his nose, his forehead. "I'm here, and I love you."
"I love you too. So much." He pulls back to look her in the eye. "People make mistakes. Life doesn't come with a map or a set of instructions. We all just have to stumble through, find our way. But I want to help you be more. Whatever you need, just say the word. Here, there. Today and tomorrow. Just tell me what you need."
"Well, there is one thing I might request."
"Anything."
"A ride to the precinct tomorrow?" she asks with a slow, curling smile. "Early. It might take a few hours of groveling to convince Gates to give me my job back."