Wow, I can't tell you how awesome it is to have such positive feedback in such a short amount of time! Thank you all for your story alerts, story favs and reviews. They mean a lot!
A reefer, for anyone who doesn't know, is a street term for marijuana. I figured that with Ryan's background in narcotics, it was appropriate.
Anyway, on with the story. Enjoy, and as always – Castle belongs to ABC.
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Castle sat hunched in his usual chair next to Beckett's desk. He had brought them both coffee less than five minutes ago, but his mug now sat forgotten next to a bowl of jellybeans in favour of the intense game of iDuck Hunt he had just finished downloading to his phone. The graphics were terrible – meaning that they were a perfect replica of the original game he had played on his old Nintendo system back in the 80's. And as Castle held the iPhone inches from his nose, furiously watching the two crazed birds flying wildly around his screen, he futilely tried to win the round. But the birds were too fast, and in moments they flew away unscathed.
"Aw, man!" Castle whined as that annoying hound rose from the grass to laugh at him. Exiting the game and dropping the phone unceremoniously on Beckett's desk in exasperation, he looked at her dejectedly. "Stupid ducks wouldn't let me shoot them..."
The beautiful brunette looked up from her paperwork with a mischievous grin. "Gee, Castle, you'd think after hanging around the gun range so much you'd be a better shot."
"I will have you know, Detective," Castle shot back, quick to defend his honour, "that I was on level ninety-nine. And bad guys are usually," he held up his index finger to make a list, "one; not that small, and," he held up a second finger, "two; not that fast."
He had just started to reach for his coffee when his imagination kicked it into high gear and his eyes went wide.
"Unless…" Castle returned Beckett's questioning look with an expression that could only be described as sheer glee. "A mad scientist took – "
An arm shot out and suddenly his face was inches from her open palm.
"Stop right there!" she snapped, as her own face rearranged into an assorted look of mild horror, morbid curiosity, and a hint of amusement. "No need to regale me with a story about the creation of some criminal Frankenstein's monster made from the body parts of Road Runner and Speedy Gonzales."
She could tell from his gaping expression – despite the limited view through her splayed fingers – that he had, in fact, been thinking something along those lines. With a smug look, Beckett pulled her hand away and went back to work. Castle, meanwhile, continued to silently gape. It seemed that his creative flare was starting to rub off. Then he smiled.
"Thank you."
She looked up, smug look still firmly in place. "For what?"
"For saying Frankenstein's monster instead of just Frankenstein. So many people think the name is the creature's when it's actually the man's. It drives me nuts."
Beckett's expression changed into a genuine smile. After the slightest hesitation, she softly admitted; "Yeah, me too."
They sat there exchanging looks of contentment with each other. To a stranger it would have appeared that they were lovers sharing some intimate secret. To those that knew them, the stranger wouldn't have been that far off the mark.
The moment came to an abrupt end, however, with the sound of a man clearing his throat. Startled, Castle and Beckett simultaneously jerked their heads upwards to find Detective Ryan looking uncomfortably down at them. All three were visibly embarrassed.
"Uh…sorry to interrupt…" the new-comer started.
Ryan managed a steady – albeit, uneasy – gaze at Beckett as he nervously played with the collection of papers in his hand. "I've got my final reports on the Lenzi case ready for you."
He waved the sheets absently in the air, then awkwardly leaned forward between Castle and his boss to drop the papers on her desk.
"Thanks, Ryan," Beckett half-murmured, wondering if her cheeks looked as hot as they felt.
Castle could only look at her and smile sheepishly.
"Yup," Ryan replied before making a quick getaway back to the safety of his desk.
His partner, Esposito, had a desk behind his and they worked with their backs to each other. Due to the setup, Esposito also worked with his back to Beckett's desk. Currently, the man was hunched over his workspace completing his own final reports.
Sitting down in his chair and swiveling fully around to face his partner's back, Ryan conspiratorially whispered; "Hey – Javi."
Esposito spun lazily around, pen in hand. "Yeah, bro?"
"What's going on with them?" The detective motioned behind him to the couple in question.
Esposito looked over Ryan's shoulder at Castle and Beckett. The writer was on his iPhone, and their boss was sipping coffee while perusing what he assumed were Ryan's files. The only thing even remotely out of the ordinary was the fact that Castle was even there. It was a paperwork day. But then, he had been hanging around during their caseless shifts more and more as of late. Since that dirty bomb nearly exploded in his and Beckett's faces, in fact. It didn't take a genius to figure out why.
"From the looks of it, I'd say…Castle's surfing for porn and Beckett's wondering where you learned how to spell?" Esposito ribbed with a smirk.
"Hey – I'm not the one who thinks 'accessory' has a 'k' in it," Ryan grinned wickedly. "No, I mean…just a second ago, the way they were looking at each other…I dunno, it kinda seemed like…like they'd split a reefer and were in La-La-Land together."
Esposito shook his head half at his partner's imagery and half at his apparent cluelessness. "And you call yourself a Detective," he scolded. "Bro, they totally dig each other." He said the last sentence slowly, as if explaining something to a child.
"Yeah, I know!" Ryan shot back indignantly. "But that look they were giving each other…" he shrugged, at a loss for words. "It was just different somehow, you know?"
Esposito was about to rib his partner some more when he noticed that Captain Montgomery was speaking quietly to the couple in question. A second later, Beckett and Castle were exchanging looks of trepidation as they got up to follow Montgomery back into his office.
"Hey – check it out," he said in a hushed whisper, nodding towards the trio.
Ryan swiveled in his chair and they both watched as Beckett, Castle, then Montgomery walked into the office and disappeared from view. The door was closed behind them. When Ryan turned back around, he and his partner exchanged their own looks of concern.
Esposito was the first to speak. "Whaddaya think that's about?"
"I dunno, man, but my cop senses are tingling."
"Your 'cop senses'?" was the incredulous reply. "Seriously?"
"Hey, shuddup. They're legit."
"Whatever, bro." Looking over his partner's shoulder at the door, he wouldn't admit it to Ryan but the feeling was mutual.
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"Have a seat," Montgomery said as he closed the door and gestured to the two black iron chairs which faced his desk. Many a browbeating had been delivered to victims in those chairs and to honour that, secretly, many years ago, he had named them. The chair on the left Castle was lowering himself into was 'Big Trouble', and Beckett went to sit down in the one on the right: 'Doomed'.
Going to his own seat, the captain fell into it heavily. He gave Beckett a measured look as he rested his arms on the desk and interlocked his fingers. Then he looked at Castle. Montgomery had spent only the span of a heartbeat trying to decide if the writer should be in the room or not for this. Considering what the pair had gone through together; how many times the man had put his neck out on the line for no other reason than to be there for her, the answer was obvious. He had more than earned the right to be in the room.
Looking back at Beckett, Montgomery thought about what he was about to say. When officers ascended up the ranks, they received training on how to properly deliver the kind of news he was about to share. Simply put, an officer's goal was to carefully choose words which would mitigate the shock, while at the same time not saying something that would lead the listener down the wrong path and cause them unnecessary grief. It was an art form, in a sense, and he knew only a handful of people who had truly mastered it. Beckett being one of them. But Beckett was also a cop, and like any cop, her first reaction would be to assume the worst – which made delivering bad news both easier and harder.
Heaving a sigh at her, he began.
"First of all, Beckett, you're not in any kind of trouble. Neither are you, Castle," he said, shooting a glance at the man who – interestingly enough – was sitting in Big Trouble. "You're in here because I've got some bad news about Mike Royce."
At the sound of her former training officer's name, Castle's head snapped to look at his partner. Beckett simply stiffened. Montgomery could almost see her run through different scenarios in her head, analyzing his choice of words and trying to put the puzzle together. She looked apprehensive, but remained silent. He knew to make this quick. No sugar-coating. Not with her.
"I'm sorry, Beckett. He was found shot dead earlier this morning."