He's Armed
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A/N: This is a continuation of my story Do You See What I See? but you don't really need to have read that to follow this. Though I'd love if you did. :) If not, here's what you need to know: Castle and Beckett became Caskett over the course of December of Season 3, and Beckett wrangled the rules around so that Castle could carry a weapon when he's working with the team, so long as he jumps through some hoops first.
This was going to be just a one or two shot, but I couldn't decide which angle to cover, so I decided on ALL of the angles and it's grown into a rather big thing. It covers the second half of Season 3, touching on quite a few episodes, starting with Knockdown. I'll be using chunks of dialogue from the show, but I figure everyone here will be able to pick those pieces out. I couldn't decide on a genre, or even two, because this is going to sort of wander between light and dark.
Please excuse any errors.
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Chapter 1
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She was going to kill him. His girlfriend; his hot, smart, talented, amazing detective girlfriend was going to kill him, and all the evidence pointed to the fact that she was going to enjoy it. Wheezing, Castle dropped from a run to a dawdling jog, and finally to a walk. He teetered across the path until he found himself stopped with his hands on his knees, chest heaving in an attempt to find some oxygen in the cold January air.
It hurt.
"Castle! C'mon, there's only half a mile to reach our goal!"
Castle twisted his head around so he could stay bent over and still glare at her. Beckett looked chipper, jogging in place and rubbing her gloved hands together in her enthusiasm. Her hair was in a ponytail, and it bounced jauntily from side to side. She was cute. She was also infuriating.
"Seven miles, Beckett. Seven miles." At last the wheezing was under control. Castle straightened so he could glare at her from his full height. "In the bitter cold. For no good reason."
"To prepare you for your physical test!" Beckett interjected, still bouncing around on her toes and moving her hands to her hips. "I'm only thinking of you."
Castle squinted menacingly. "There isn't even a distance run on the test. It's sprints, and agility, and climbing and lifting. I read that giant stack of paperwork you gave me." He wasn't proud of the whine in his voice, but it felt well earned.
Beckett bit her lip and grinned, the puffs of air leaving her mouth at an angle before being whisked away by the brisk breeze. "Always the reader," she teased. "And it'll help in the long run. So to speak."
Castle nodded, still breathing deeply, and pursed his lips. Then he shook his head. "We're done, coach. No more PT. I'm ready, and I'm done. This is done."
Eyes widening, mouth dropping open on a grin, Beckett held her hands out to the side with the palms up. What, giving up? "Alright," she relented when his expression didn't change. "We can walk back. But I think that tomorrow-"
"Nope."
"Castle..."
"No. Nope. Tomorrow I'm sleeping in." He twisted his wrist to look at his watch. "Until way after seven-thirty. And I'm not running or lifting, and I think I'm going to eat a cheeseburger. Or maybe two."
It was Beckett's turn to send him a look. "Your test is in three days."
"I know. And I'm pretty sure I'll pass it with flying colors. In the meantime, you," he poked her shoulder, "need to find some other recruit to harass."
Sliding close to him as they picked up a brisk walk back toward her apartment, the day feeling colder now that they weren't running, Beckett wrapped one arm around his waist. "But I don't like any of the other recruits."
"Right now I'm not sure you like me," Castle countered with a laugh.
Beckett laughed with him and squeezed once more before stepping aside so they could walk more efficiently. They were halfway back when she looked sideways at him. "I'm sorry. I know I'm over-doing it. I just got caught up. I think it's fun."
Castle huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Why? How is this fun?" As he asked, he looked down at her in the growing morning light, and almost answered his own question. Beckett's eyes were bright with amusement, her cheeks and lips rosy with the cold and exertion. And just like the first day she'd shown up at the loft to take him jogging, she was wearing a big NYPD sweatshirt and leggings that gave him an eyeful anytime she was ahead of him, which was most of the time.
"I like running," she began.
"No!" Castle feigned surprise with wide eyes and his smirk pulled into an "O" shape.
"And I like running with you, jerk," she continued, bumping her shoulder into his and then wrapping herself around his arm. "We're outside, and it's away from all of the downs of life. And you're wearing sweats."
Castle coughed in surprise. "You like the sweats, really?"
"It's kinda hot to see you working out," Beckett continued with a sultry grin. She used her hold on his arm to lift herself up to kiss his cheek, but made a face when she pulled away with the taste of sweat on her lips.
"Hot? Really?" Castle could feel his chest puffing out in pride, his stride lengthening into a strut. Not that Beckett was stingy with compliments, but there was something attached to his male ego that she was complimenting here and- "No. Hey. You will not convince me that this is fun."
Beckett chuckled low in her throat and raised an eyebrow. "Challenge accepted."
Her building felt hot compared to the cold outdoors, and even after pulling off their gloves they were sweating more, not less, as they rode the elevator up to Beckett's floor. Castle pulled the collar of his sweatshirt away from his throat, grimacing in discomfort and wiping at his brow. He really did not enjoy the aftermath of running anymore than the event itself.
Beckett was stripping her sweatshirt off before Castle had even closed the apartment door behind them, and he took the opportunity to watch her moving around the apartment in just her tight Under Armour tee and leggings. Okay, maybe he liked this part of the running experience.
"Hey, do you want me to start the cof..." She trailed off when she turned and caught him staring. Smiling, the tip of her tongue coming out to run along the edge of her teeth, she closed the distance between them again. Stretching up on her toes, pressing her palms flat against his chest, she brushed her lips against his day's worth of stubble and nipped his upper lip playfully before letting him press closer and really kiss her.
Castle bent over her and slid his lips heatedly along hers, tilting his head and pressing his tongue against her slightly parted lips. She taste like cold air and sweat, and he sucked the tip of her tongue into his mouth to make sure he got a taste of her, too. One of his hands wound around her back to tug playfully at her ponytail, and she gasped in surprise before pushing away with a breathless laugh.
"You shower first, stud. I'll make some coffee. Then if you're good," she smirked at his affronted expression and patted his chest, "we can go to the shooting range. I know you don't really need any practice there, but that's hot too."
Castle's face widened in a genuine smile, he nodded agreeably and started toward the bathroom. But as Beckett headed toward the kitchen, he swept past her and corralled her with a strong arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her with him. She squealed in surprise and put up a half-hearted fight that Castle knew she could win if she wanted, but by the time they were in the bathroom and he was sucking on her exposed and salty collarbone she was pulling him closer, not pushing him away.
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The next morning Beckett woke alone. Castle had insisted that he get to sleep in today, despite her most persuasive arguments. And though he'd invited her to stay at the loft, she needed a day to do all of the things she'd been putting off when she stayed at his place. Laundry. Shopping. Blow the dust off of the things she was no longer using. And she needed to work out alone.
As much fun as it was to run Castle until he could barely stand up, Beckett was paying for it, too. Her leg muscles were tight enough that she winced as she shifted her weight. Deciding to work through some light training and a yoga routine, she stretched from side to side to loosen her ribcage before plopping down on the ground. She stretched her long legs out straight in front of her and reached for her toes, wrapping her hands around the balls of her feet to feel the stretch in her calves and hamstrings.
She worked through several variations before standing again and working her quads. Next, she used the pull-up bar she'd installed in a doorway to provide resistance to stretch her shoulders, and then pulled herself up. She'd always been light and strong, and the few other women at the academy with her had hated how easy the pull-ups were for her. She smirked at the memory, dropped down to full arm extension, and pulled herself up again. And again. Twenty more and she could feel the burn, her smirk gone. She concentrated and pulled herself up again, stretching her neck to get her chin over the bar.
Then her phone rang.
Beckett paused, mid-pull, and glanced toward the device. She considered letting it go, she wasn't on call, but dismissed the idea. After all, it might be Castle. Her chest pulled with a now familiar sensation of unrestrained affection, and she dropped to the ground. But when she picked up the phone, she didn't recognize the number, and she answered with more than a little apprehension in her voice. The last thing she wanted was to get pulled in to work by some detective she didn't know looking for information.
"Beckett." She plopped down onto the couch.
"Detective Beckett?"
"Yeah."
"This is John Raglan. I was the lead investigator on your mother's homicide twelve years ago."
Beckett's stomach dropped and she sat forward slowly, her facial features smoothing into disbelieving neutrality. When her response came it was slow, but unwavering. "I remember you, Detective Raglan."
"Listen I..." Raglan paused, but Beckett sensed she shouldn't prompt him to hurry, so instead she clenched the fist not holding her phone until the fingernails were digging into her palm. "We need to talk about your mother's case. There's something you don't know. There's a coffee shop at fourth and main... meet me there in an hour. Just you. No cops."
Hanging up, Beckett dropped back against the back of the couch in silence, her arms limp beside her and her eyes closed. She was trembling, but it might have been a good thing. Other than that, all she could feel was a heavy emptiness. There was no anger, no tears, no big adrenaline rush that had her leaping to action or tasting the thickness of emotion in her throat.
There was only the heaviness, and the trembling. After some unknown amount of time had drifted by, she dragged her eyes open. She had to fight this shock, and she was sure that it was shock that had stolen her proportional reaction, and get going. She had to meet the man who told her more than a decade ago that her mother had died. She had to go to the coffee shop. She had to get up. She had to move. She had to... Castle.
She had to call Castle.
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A/N: And so it begins. Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think.