I don't own any of this-it all belongs to Joss, and all those people at ABC.
"And don't you ever stand for that sort of thing. Someone tries to kill you, you try to kill 'em right back. Wife or no..."
Kate Beckett had to roll her eyes as she heard her "partner" trying to console the one and only lead on their current case. Bridget, a young woman who had an "I'm new to the city" appearance, had been party to an arranged marriage, only when she arrived at her future husband's apartment, she had found him dead, and the men who had killed him who had left her, knocked out and gagged, next to the body. Quite unfortunately, she had not seen the men before they had grabbed her and told her in no specific terms that she was not to fight or make a single noise. Bridget was fuzzy on the details after that and Castle was adamant on not pushing her too far.
"So, what will you do with me?" She asked, timid, but bold around this man who wanted her to stand up for herself.
"We'll keep you close by for a couple of days, see if you can't recall something to help with the case. "Beckett was sharp, and she saw the utter disbelief in Castle's eyes, that she could be callous to such a vulnerable woman who was just trying to make her way in the world. She adjusted her tone, just slightly, so that she would at least seem courteous to the woman. "You'll probably be put in a hotel near the precinct until we can find you something better. And there will be someone with you, keeping you safe, on the off chance that those men try to find you." She turned back to her computer, reading over the report again, trying to glean something, anything, from the text so she could get back to work.
"I've got it!" Both women jumped, though Beckett less so, as Castle's hand flew down to hit the desk. "She'll stay with me. My place is safe, and I've got an extra bedroom. And even better, it won't cost the city a dime." Beckett watched the two exchange a look, and she knew there was no way this was going to end well.
"I would get to stay in YOUR apartment? The apartment of Richard Castle, the best mystery writer of the twenty-first century?" Bridget was automatically ecstatic, oblivious to the daggers that Beckett was shooting the apartment owner in question.
"Castle, we both know that is not going to happen. It is incredibly unprofessional of the station, and it would mean putting your family at risk."
"Alexis is on a school trip for the week. Mother is out of town until next Monday."
"Regardless, Captain Mont--"
"Thinks that it sounds like a very good idea." Her boss, managing to walk up behind them without notice looked at Beckett, Castle, Bridget, then returned to her. "Though we would be glad to repay any expenses this young woman incurs."
Castle, ever the philanthropist to the young, sexy women, shook his head. "All on me, Captain. I have no problem spending money that all of you have helped me earn, helping you in return."
"But Captain, I must insis-"
"Detective, this will be fine. Perhaps in a neutral environment, Bridget could relax and be more help in the investigation. I'm surprised you haven't thought of that." He walked off, leaving an exasperated detective, a smiling Castle, and a hopeful Bridget in his wake.
"Well, if that's settled, I think we'll be headed back to my place then. If, that is, there is nothing else you need me for, detective?" As always, he knew she couldn't hold him, but the phrasing of his leaving as a question made him look ever the respectful gentleman.
"I just have to finish this paperwork, and then I'll head home. No need for either of you to stick around." She turned completely around so that it was clear that she was done with the pair and waited until she heard their murmurings cease as the elevator doors shut.
Hours later, Beckett was still at her desk, her fifth cup of coffee in her hand. There was something that she just couldn't put her finger on that wasn't quite right about this case. Sitting her mug down on the desk, she settled back in her chair and reached her arms up and behind her to stretch. Closing her eyes, she reveled in the silence for just a minute until her phone rang.
"Beckett."
"It's Lanie. Listen, there's something weird with the groom here."
"Listening. What is it?"
"Turns out that before he was shot, there was some sort of toxin in him. Some sort of knock out drug. I'm not exactly sure which one it is, but several of them are used in prostitution scams." Kate's mind started whirling, and she realized what wasn't making sense"...I remember stories in med. school-men would come in the ER, half out of it and missing their wal-"
"Shit. Lanie, I've got to get to Castle's apartment."
"Girl, what does this have anything to do with writer boy?"
"I think I know how that poison got in our vic's system. And if I'm right, the source of it is with Castle right now." Beckett was already running out of the office as she closed her phone.
"I can't believe I'm staying the night in your apartment!" Bridget, who claimed that she was in her mid-twenties, sounded to be closer to Alexis's age. After exclaiming over how gorgeous the loft was, how he had such taste, she was now running her fingers over the spines of the books. His books. More specifically, the books he wrote. "I've got every one of your books from the library the day it came out and I've read them all twice. Some three or four times."
"Yes, well...I feel very humbled. I don't think I've read them all once." She looked at him, astounded. "It might surprise you, but some authors don't read their works after they're published. Some say it's bad luck, others prefer not to spend more time with the characters after their done with the story. Not to mention, there are no surprises for the writer in a book he has finished writing."
"Oh. Well, you should read them. They're very good. I just love how you write the characters. Derrick Storm, especially. I hated you when he died, but I understood why you had to do it."
"There was no where left to go with the character. He had done everything, seen everything. It was time for something-"
"New." She completed his sentence. "The Nikki Heat book. I wish I had it with me. I was so close to the end and now I don't know when I'll get to finish it." She sighed. "I could only bring necessities with me, and those men took what little I had of those." She watched Castle, as he thought for a moment, then turned to go to his office. "Where are you going?"
"I've got a surprise for you. Give me five minutes." He shut the door and she looked around for a moment, then muttered under her breath.
"I'll show you a surprise."
Moments later, when Castle opened the door, arms behind his back, he was startled into dropping both his jaw and the newly signed copy of Heat Wave on the floor.
"Wha! Yo-hey. You're, um...well, there you are." Bridget was, except for a throw that had been on the sofa, naked from what Castle could tell.
"What are you doing?" His voice cracked, something that hadn't happened in years. No, decades. "You've got the guest bedroom. I showed you where that was, didn't I? And I showed you those pajamas too..."
"I just wanted to show you how grateful I was." She slid off the couch, the blanket sliding down a bit. "It's the least I can do for you being so nice to me." Castle stammered a bit before he could get a full sentence started.
"This is all for the station. It's thanks to them that I got a new book deal, and, for that matter, that Nikki Heat has been such a hit. There's no need to thank me. "He backed away as she started to inch towards him, fabric slipping lower every step. And while he tried to ignore it with his brain, some portion of him made him slowly stop. She finally stood in front of him, blanket pooled around her ankles.
"And at that same station, you told me to stand up for myself, to be a woman. I came to the city, planning to be married and a wife by now. A few days from now, I'll be gone from your life. I'll have to make my way with the strength you've taught me. But let me have a wedding night." Castle was dying. He hadn't had a woman this willing in years...not that Meredith wasn't fun, but this...this was different. If only the woman wasn't this Bridget, but his muse, the real life Nikki Heat, his Katie. Only he didn't call her that, since he valued his life just a little.
Wait. Why was he thinking about Beckett when there was this woman, leaning in to...He bent down as she kissed him, slowly and sweetly. Castle pulled away, knowing how wrong this was, how he was taking advantage of the situation.
"I really wish it was that simple. But you're a part of the investigation and Beckett's going to kill me when she..."
She jumped up, practically attacking him, and Castle gave in this time. For a moment, he closed his eyes, imagining a brunette instead of a redhead. Then, his eyes snapped open, as he felt dizzy. "Son of a -" As he fell, Castle reached for his phone, but it fell from his hands as he hit the floor with a lifeless thud. Bridget stood over him, checking to make sure he was out for the count before she started gathering her things.
"Night sweetie."
"Call Ryan and some uniforms and get to Castle's building. Hurry. Our murderer is in there."
"How do you know?" Esposito's confusion was clear through the phone. She inhaled deeply. There wasn't time for this.
"I'll explain later. Just get over there. I'm already here." She slipped through the door, showing her badge to the doorman, then raced for the elevator. The stairs might have been just a bit quicker, but Beckett had already ran several blocks when traffic stopped and she knew she wouldn't get there in time. Even now, she might not. She paced the elevator, waiting for the ding. There it was. Only, she wasn't on his floor and had three more to go. Beckett brushed past the group getting on the elevator and rushed to the stairwell and up the stairs. As she sidled down the hall, she watched as Bridget walked out the door of Castle's loft and started when she saw her.
"What are you doing here?" Bridget was quick to hide her surprise. "Ricky made it pretty clear that I would be quite safe here. We didn't need a cop." She stood, firmly, unlike the mousy woman that she had spoken to earlier today.
"I could ask you the same thing. Surely Ricky, "Beckett almost gagged, "knows you should not be left alone after such a traumatic event." She walked towards the woman and the apartment door.
"That man understands more than a woman like you can know. He gets that I needed a little alone time and asked me to go get some sodas." The two women were almost toe to toe.
"Then you wouldn't mind if I spoke to him while you were gone. Just for a few minutes about the case?" Beckett smiled, doing her best good cop routine. "I'll be gone before you get back." She reached for the door knob. Granted, she didn't want to let this woman out of her sight, but she knew her boys would be covering the exits before Bridget made it. And she had to make sure Castle was okay.
"Oh, that's fine. Somehow I doubt he'll be very talkative, but you can try. Good bye detective!" Bridget ran down the hall. Pulling out her cell, she called Esposito.
"Cover the exits, stop Bridget, and get someone up here. Castle's hurt." She raced to where she saw the man, lying next to his sofa. Her phone clattered down next to his as she skidded down to her knees next to him.
"Rick, Rick, Rick..."She checked for breath, then shook him. He moaned, and she wiped at what could be an embarrassing wetness on her cheeks, that is, if anyone else was around. "Thank God." Before she realized what she was doing, Kate leaned down and kissed him, full on the mouth. Gathering her wits, she stood and walked...no, stumbled to the door as she heard what has to be her backup. "He's in here!" She yells down the hall, and as the same dizziness overcomes her she realizes...
"You stupid son of a..."
"Dad...Dad..."
"Richard! Do wake up. You are going to ruin the upholstery that way." Stirring from his dream, Rick Castle stared up at his mother and daughter, both looking quite annoyed.
"Wha...What happened?" He looked around for the copy of his book, or any signs of another woman, one that wasn't related to him.
"You must have woke up in the middle of the night and decided to watch your space cowboy show." Alexis pointed at the TV. The DVD menu for "Our Mrs. Reynolds" was on the screen, and now that he realized it, the volume on the menu was much louder than it had been when he was watching it. Not to mention something not at all comfortable was under his chest.
"Oh." He pulled the remote out and turned the volume down before cutting the television off. "Well, now that the problem is solved, feel free to return your quite unnecessary beauty sleep, ladies. Of course, I wouldn't mind a good night kiss, if someone isn't too old for that?" He looked at Alexis, her hair in a ponytail, sleep still in her eyes. Yet, he knew she was as sharp as he was when she muttered, after standing on tiptoe to peck at his cheek,:
"But dad, doesn't kissing young girls make you sleepy?"