Rosie requested a scene missing from my story, The Judas. Here it is, as requested. Castle characters belong to ABC. The Call Box was made up. If such a bar exists in New York, it's merely a coincidence…but would be very cool. ~ Mel

Face to Face

Raising a hand in a lazy wave, Javier Esposito watched as the taxi pulled away and headed down the street. He was glad to see Kate Beckett so happy. Things recently had seemed to spiral out of control for all of them, but it appeared a few good things had happened as well. Being suspended sucked, but it had given him perspective. For Kate as well, apparently. After so many years of dancing around each other, she and Richard Castle were finally together. Just as Javier and Kevin Ryan drifted apart.

Still, what had happened tonight had gone a long way to mending that relationship as well. Family was like that. No matter how angry he might be with that person, nobody else messed with his family. Nobody. Esposito planned to make that very, very clear. It wasn't that Kevin needed someone else to fight his battles. No, this was for Javier.

Rolling his shoulders to release some of his tension, Esposito unlocked his car door and slid into the driver's seat. He started the car and pulled out his cell phone to call Roselyn Karpowski. After several rings, a tired voice finally answered. Javier could hear the noise of the 12th precinct's bullpen in the background.

"Homicide. Karpowski."

"Hey, Karposki. It's Esposito."

"So you did pull your head out of your ass."

His instinctual response to that would get him nowhere, so Esposito swallowed his pride. "Yeah, seems so. Listen, I need to know what's been going down at the 12th. Before you say it, yes I was an ass. Yes, I should've been talking to Kevin. I know all that. Just tell me what happened."

There was a drawn out sigh from the other end. Whether in annoyance or because Karpowski was gathering her thoughts, Javier wasn't sure. "Okay, Espo. I don't know the whole story, 'cause I was on vacation for most of it. I know he got dumped with a lot of paperwork and they managed to stick him with being on-call for pretty much the whole time I was gone. He got in a fight with a suspect because Matt Coker deliberately took his time backing Ryan up. Stupid fool. Ryan could've been killed. This last thing, though, was Pete Walters' fault. Ryan went to talk to a person of interest in a murder and the lazy ass stayed in the car. The person of interest became suspect number one during the course of Ryan's interview and all hell broke loose. The guy opened fire and headed for the roof. Your partner called for backup and followed him. By the time Coker and I got there, Ryan was pinned down and nobody else could get on the roof without being shot at. It took a long time, but Ryan managed to talk him down."

Esposito gripped the steering wheel tightly with his left hand, a wave of anger flowing over him. "What about Coker and Walters? What happened to them?"

"Coker managed to redeem himself a little and turned on Walters, who'd instigated most of it, so Matt is suspended for two weeks." A hint of satisfaction crept into Roselyn's voice. "Walters suddenly discovered that nobody had his back anymore. He's on unpaid leave, pending the result of an investigation into his actions. My guess is he won't be coming back. Iron Gates was pissed."

"Yeah, well, what Captain Gates feels is nothing compared to me right now. I want Coker's phone number."

There was a loaded pause on the other end of the phone and Javier began to wonder if she'd give it to him. "Coker deserves a punch in the face for not backing Ryan up the first time. But, Esposito, he was there with me on that roof. He knows he was wrong and wants to make it up to Ryan."

It was Esposito's turn to sigh. "Look, Ros, I'm not going to murder the guy. I just want to talk to him. I won't lay a hand on him, I promise."

In the end, he got the phone number and sent a quick text message to Matt Coker. As he waited for her response, he buckled his seatbelt, pulled away from the curb and hedged his bets. Sure enough, when he got the text back from Matt, Javier was only four blocks away from his destination.

Esposito. I know we did wrong. Pete is the Call Box. Don't kill him.

The Call Box was a cop bar. Esposito had been betting on Pete Walters drowning his troubles, and that was the closest cop-friendly bar to the 12th. Javier found an empty spot by the curb a block away, and walked back. The walk gave him time to decide how he wanted to play this. A blast of noise hit him when he stepped into the brightly lit bar, and Javier let the door swing shut behind him as his eyes scanned the room for the man he was there to see.

Several familiar faces from the 12th and the 54th smiled or yelled greetings as Esposito headed for the bar. And the man he'd come looking for. The detective stopped next to Walters, who was hunched over the bar waiting for another drink. As the bartender reached forward with a bottle of Teacher's Esposito slapped his palm over the empty glass and glared.

"He's done."

Walters snapped his head around to frown at the intruder, his face red with anger, only to blanch slightly when he recognized the owner of the voice. "Esposito. What the hell d'ya think you're doing?"

Clearly that hadn't been the man's first glass of whisky. "You and I have something to discuss, Walters. And I'd like you as sober as possible."

The two men on stools on either side of Walters quietly picked up their drinks and slipped away. News traveled fast, and nobody wanted to be nearby when Javier Esposito detonated. Sensing that he was alone and there would be no back-up, Walters straightened to his full height and glared down at the shorter detective. "Fine, let's take this outside then."

Jerking his chin toward the back, Javier led the way down the darkened hallway and out the emergency exit to the alley behind the bar. He walked a few paces away from the door, turned and shook his arms to loosen his muscles. "I hear you gave my partner a hard time the last few weeks."

"Everyone gave the Judas a hard time. What's the big deal?"

Javier took a threatening step forward and pointed angrily at the inebriated detective. "Don't you dare call him that."

"Why? You did. I heard Ryan tell his wife about it while he was on the phone in the break room. So what makes you so different from me?"

The accusation stung. Worse than Javier thought possible. He took a deep breath, trying to reign in his emotions. "I was angry. Partners are allowed to be mad at each other. It was our fight. Nobody else had any right getting into the middle of it. And to freeze him out, risk his life, was more than just stupid. It was cowardly."

Walters took his own threatening step. "Who are you calling a coward?"

"You! You got a problem with someone, you take it face-to-face. You don't get everyone else involved and sneak around behind the guy's back." Just to make it very clear, Javier shifted his stance. "I got a problem with what you did to my partner, Walters. And, unlike you, I'm bein' a man about it. He could've died on that roof today. You're going to pay for that."

Before Walters could react, Javier's right fist caught him on the cheek and snapped his head around. The bigger man staggered and brought his hands up to defend himself. The fight didn't last long. Too much whisky and too little spine meant that Walters quickly ended up on the dirt-strewn ground of the alley, tucked into a ball with his arms wrapped around his head.

Knuckles sore and bruised, Javier stood over Walters and caught his breath. "If they allow you to keep your badge, you better watch your back. If I ever hear of you treating a fellow officer the way you treated Kevin, I'll find you. We'll do this dance again. And, I guarantee, it will end the same way."

Leaving the defeated man in the alley, Javier pulled open the heavy metal door and walked back through the pub. The noise dampened as he made his way through the room and passed the bar. Most of the cops there avoided his narrowed gaze, either out of guilt or self-preservation. A handful raised their glasses in a silent salute of agreement. But none said a word.

Esposito flexed his fingers as he headed back down the damp street to his car. Hopefully word of tonight's events wouldn't reach Captain Gates. Or Beckett.

Once back at Kevin's apartment, Javier checked to be sure his partner was still sleeping off his pain meds then wandered to the kitchen for a bag of frozen peas. Javi settled in on the sofa in the living room, peas now making an ice pack for his swollen knuckles, and idly flipped channels. Things might have been out of control for a while, but that had changed. Esposito had taken responsibility for his mistakes and was doing his best to make amends.

Once Kevin woke up, he and Javi would work it out face-to-face. You don't get many friendships like the one he had with Kevin Ryan. And you don't get many second chances in this life, either. Esposito had been given both and he didn't plan to waste them.

END