Close Encounters 21


Castle hunted below the windows of what he was almost positive would be their rooms at the bed and breakfast. He'd seen Kate through the stairwell window and he'd been quick to pay attention, mostly as a way to test his skills and perceptions.

He'd asked her a few times today, but really, he was the one who felt off.

He shouldn't have been messing around with the serum. But how could Castle have known his father would choose this exact week to fuck with them? He'd been experimenting with the drugs and the supplements for months now, and usually it was no big deal, but the last few weeks had been rough.

So he was outside the bed and breakfast, slipping between the buildings via a rank alley in an effort to push himself, test himself, find out where his limits were this time. He wasn't tired, wasn't hungry, he just felt an awareness that seemed out of proportion to the mission.

That thing in St Cyr at the train station, walking the block with Beckett to scope it out and keep on the move - he'd felt it then. How his brain was receiving sensory information that just wasn't there.

A little test then. See how bad it was, how paranoid he'd gotten. Unreasonably paranoid versus rationally paranoid - that was the issue. The problem. If he was reacting from the gut and his gut was leaky, then they were in trouble. But if he was reacting from twenty plus years in the service and its combined subtle insinuations and tremors, then there was something else going on here.

More than his father's threat to destroy his family if Kate didn't meet a contact. A Collective contact, a person that apparently his father trusted only so far, who had information that they - 'they' - needed.

Perhaps they did. Perhaps not. That wasn't the thing that made Castle's eyes see shadows and his ears hear unnatural silence and his fingers itch for his gun. Or Kate's gun. Something to protect them.

He'd had this sensation a few times before. Flying over the English channel when the bombs hadn't gone off. Right before a man tried to cut his hand off. And the moment he'd walked into that island courtyard and seen Kate with his father and Deleware leading him like lamb to slaughter.

He'd murdered Deleware for touching his wife. Not self-defense, not necessary really, though it had been one less to worry about. Cold-blooded murder wasn't his wife's way, wasn't ever what she wanted for them - for blood to be their family's foundation - but Deleware had betrayed more than just marriage vows or a country, and Castle had acted in accordance with what his instincts had told him were true.

Was that the problem now?

Maybe so. Not Deleware, but his father's continuing personal betrayal. Maybe Rick Castle was - when it came right down to it - still a five year old boy waiting for his father's car service and thinking to himself, Now she can't keep me from him. Now my father will come for me.

Castle had thought he'd murdered that in him. He had thought his father had killed it dead when he'd put Kate on her knees and held a gun to her head, finger at the trigger. Castle had been through years of therapy now, figuring that shit out, and he had been certain he'd hacked it off, dug it out of him, the need for his father's approval.

But he hadn't.

And if that was the case, if something still buried sick and dark and deep inside Castle wanted his father to love him, then there was good fucking reason for Castle to be paranoid and watching his wife's back and feeling ill at ease.

Because it would all go so very wrong if Castle leaned in towards his father.

He would lose everything. He would lose her if - for one moment - he broke rank.

He couldn't break. This wasn't the time to break.

No, Rick Castle needed to find a way around that five year old. Killing him hadn't worked. Killing him had only made him sicker, more twisted, desperate. Killing... Kate kept reviving him. That was the real problem. Kate touched him there, in the darkest and most desperate places, and she fed the lost little boy of him. She made him less afraid, less dark, less dangerous.

She made him grow up. She'd made him a father.

James.

Castle closed his eyes and pressed his back against the brick, sucking in a breath that scraped his throat.

James.

Whatever small, twisted thing was in Castle absolutely had to grow up for his son, his son, his little boy who needed him. John Black could go to fucking hell; John Black was not going to destroy his family.

Castle opened his eyes and stepped into the alley and kept going.

Test his limits. Find the reach of his endurance. Figure this out.

For Kate. For his son.


She didn't know what to do with the milk. Fuck.

She was late now for their rendezvous but Castle had actually mentioned to her that lateness was allowed - thank you, Rick, for that, she thought, rolling her eyes. But she hastily adjusted her clothes, a clean t-shirt now, and she dumped the milk in the bathroom sink and watched it spin down the drain.

She felt kind of sick.

It was contrary to everything she'd been working towards for the past - shit - nearly two years now. It felt like betrayal to her son, betrayal to Castle when he wasn't at all happy about her taking the damn pills in the first place, and most of all, a betrayal to herself.

She wasn't where she wanted to be.

She was falling apart a little bit, and that wasn't okay.

Get it together, Beckett.

It was fine; it was life. Shit happened, especially to them, and she had chosen that when she'd entered the Police Academy. Her motivation, true, had been her mother's murder - a thing done to her - but the choices were all hers. Kate's alone. Her mother's murder was cleared and the reasons known, but here she was in Paris.

Because it was obvious that Kate Beckett was more than just her mother's murder. Had always been more than that, but the existence of Rick Castle in her life had put a kind of bold and underline to it. She knew it now, what she stood for, what she wanted from life, what was important.

Her husband, her son. The quality of their lives but also the quality of their characters - and her own. She couldn't expect to influence those things, to shape those things, if she ignored a summons from John Black and instead simply hid in the panic room.

That wasn't life. These were her decisions, and while being away from her son for four days wasn't ideal, it also wasn't the end of the world. Dumping her milk down the drain was just - another thing she had to do.

She was determined to move past this. No betrayal here, Kate, just the realities of existence.

So she ran water in the sink and washed the breast milk down the drain, glancing at her watch to check the time. She was overdue by five minutes now and not willing to test Castle's overactive imagination.

Kate cleaned the pump and repacked it, tugged the backpack on over her shoulders. Her leather jacket was supple and warm from the heat inside the room, and she hooked her fingers under the straps of the bag as she left.

Kate locked the door behind her, slipped the key into the inside pocket of her jacket, and then she turned for the stairs.

Her husband was waiting on the landing, in shadows like only he could ever find, but he had an easy smile for her and he looked calm.

"I'm late," she admitted.

"I figured. You good now?"

"Should be for a while," she told him. He was heading the opposite direction of the front door, leading them down a hallway, through the kitchens, and out the back exit. Of course.

"I should have asked before," he said softly. "But what's the schedule, love?"

"Even if you had asked, not sure I could tell you," she said cryptically, rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to pump more often, took a couple extra pills to - you know - keep up my reserves, but it hasn't worked so hot."

"James has nursed every night so far," he said, giving her a calculating look. While she normally thoroughly enjoyed Castle's long perusal of her breasts, this didn't feel quite the same.

She smacked his chest as they stepped out onto the main street, and he caught her hand with a quirk of a smile. "He's gotten what he needs," she told him. "Don't worry. I just wanted extra, and it didn't happen, and I guess now it is."

He was smiling at her. That soft smile that meant he loved her - a lot - and it was hitting him strangely because he was amused. Sometimes that was a little insufferable, but Kate was determined to make the most of today, of their time in Paris, even if it was a mission to meet his father.

Castle circled her hand with two fingers, turned her palm down as he angled her watch towards him.

"Meeting's in... forty minutes," Castle said. "We have some time if you want to explore the area. Relax a little."

"Yes, please," she grinned. "The last time we were here it was work, work, work."

He smirked, a short shake of his head. "And then cave, cave, cave."

Kate laughed, surprised by his easy joke. "Well, my Russian sabbatical wasn't exactly a vacation destination."

"Uh-huh. And the whole getting stuck in a freezer thing wasn't ideal either. But if you're willing to give Paris another chance..."

Kate flipped her hand and caught his fingers. "Let's play tourist, Castle."


The Eiffel Tower was different seeing it through Kate's eyes. They approached from the Champ de Mars, a landscaped park much like the Mall in DC, but the Tower was so dominant before them that little else could be noticed.

"It was built for the World's Fair of 1889," he murmured, waiting with her as she slowed to a halt before the tower. "The entrance arch, make an impression, you know. Prove that Paris was the center of the world. It was supposed to be temporary."

"Temporary."

"They had to promise to take it down. It was considered an eyesore, ruined the landscape."

"And now it's synonymous with Paris," she smiled. "I can't believe - 1889? I mean, it's over a thousand feet tall, right?'

"Hm, three hundred and twenty meters, yeah, I think that's right. Thousand feet."

"People are climbing up," she noted. "You think we can do that?"

Castle winced. "Have to get tickets months in advance, Kate."

"Damn. Too bad." Kate nudged him and he realized she was pulling out her phone and googling it. "Holy - listen to this - it's as tall as an 81-story building, Castle."

"Yeah, just wait until we get closer."

Kate bit her bottom lip and lifted her hand to block the morning sun, staring ahead of them towards the Eiffel. "We have time for that?"

They had a meeting in Le Castel Cafe, of course, because his father thought it would be amusing, no doubt, and until then, he and Kate could get lost in the crowds without fear.

"Come on," he encouraged, nudging her towards the structure. He reached down and took her phone from her hands. "You walk and gawk, and I'll read from the wikipedia page."

"Ew, you know me better than that," she said.

Castle glanced down at her phone and saw she'd connected to the official website. He chuckled and took her by the wrist, wriggling until he'd laced their fingers together. "Okay then, I'll read from the untainted history."

"Please," she hummed, grinning over at him.

He led her forward, letting her stare up at the Eiffel while he guided her away from other groups of tourists. "All right. Ready? Let's see, ah, here we go. 'The projected tower came under heavy criticism from the art community which felt that engineering had no place in the design.' Ha, isn't that-"

"No comments from the peanut gallery. Read."

He narrowed an eye at her but she only waited, so he gave it up, kept reading. "A Committee of Three Hundred was formed - one member for - holy shit - each meter. That is going overboard, don't you think? I mean-"

"What did I say about the commentary, Rick?"

He grunted. "Fine. 'We, writers, painters, sculptors, architects and passionate devotees of the hitherto untouched beauty of Paris, protest with all our strength, with all our indignation in the name of slighted French taste, against the erection-"

Here Castle snorted; he couldn't help himself, and Kate let out a breath. When he took a cringing look over at her, she had her lips pressed together and he could tell she was trying not to laugh. He'd gotten her.

"Never mind the official history," she told him primly. "Impressive enough to require silence."

She gave a brief nod towards the base of the Eiffel, and he smothered another smile to lead her that direction. Along the way, Castle slipped her phone into her back pocket, wriggling it a little to tease, and he got a hip bump for it. But neither of them spoke, and they kept quiet until they'd come under the iconic, wrought-iron Tower.

"It's bigger than I expected," she said. There was reverence in her voice. "People built this. Men built this, Castle. It's - Each base is a compass point; do you see that?"

See it? Beckett was the one with the lodestone in her blood. "My little homing pigeon."

She laughed, knocking her hand into his pec so that he flinched. He shut up again, letting her take it in.

"1889. That was a hundred years ago, Rick, but only one man died. The whole time, the whole project, and they only lost one man."

Castle glanced over at her and saw she'd craned her neck to look up. They were at the east base of the tower now, buffeted by people heading for the line that would wind its way up, but she was unyielding. He saw her sway as she stared up, and she quickly jerked her head down, reaching out to catch his arm, blinking hard.

"Whoa, hey there."

"Think I need more coffee," she laughed. "Actually, I need real food, Castle. We had lunch on the way to Langley, but no dinner-"

"Shit. My fault. I'll find us something." He jerked forward, but Kate held him back, chuckling as she pushed her palms against his shoulders, physically blocking him. He frowned.

Kate shook her head, patting his chest. "Calm down, super spy. Let's walk under the Eiffel, see the whole thing, and cross the bridge to the other side of the Seine. Then stop somewhere over there for food. How's that?"

"Perfect," he agreed immediately. He knew she wouldn't suggest it unless she could actually make it, though it wasn't like it was that far a walk. He was overreacting just a little; yeah, he could tell. He saw it.

Kate slid her fingers down his arm and circled his wrist, tugged him gently with her. When they stood directly below the Tower, they both tilted their heads back to look.

The sky was blue between the iron lattice-work, the height so impressive that it actually took his breath away.

"You're bringing me back here," she said. "When this is done, sometime, whenever. We're coming back here and we're going to the top."

He took a long, last look at the pinnacle, a rough breath in through his lungs, cold air and the sharp morning.

"We'll take the stairs," he promised.

Bring James.


Kate wolfed down a sandwich on brioche, thick slices of ham and melted cheese on a bun. And egg, so that the yellow ran down over her grip and she had to suck on her thumb and fingers to keep it from staining her sleeve. She had never tasted such a well-made egg.

Castle kept nudging her in the right direction as they walked, pushing her back towards the bridge, guiding her so that she could focus on eating her breakfast. She had another cup of coffee too, and the caffeine hit was doing wonders.

Once they were back over the bridge, they headed for the cafe where they were meeting up with his father. Castle pushed her to take a right at the corner, and she stepped over a crack in the sidewalk and onto the street. They had the light at the crosswalk and Kate finished off her sandwich, threw the paper in the trash as they passed.

The buildings were only four or five stories in this section, dwarfed by the Eiffel Tower on the immediate horizon. Kate glanced behind her to check it out again, smiled when Castle wriggled his eyebrows at her. She still had coffee left, but she wanted her hands free for their meeting, so she threw it away as well.

The cafes here were plentiful, catering to the tourist crowd, and the sidewalks were covered with colorful awnings. People were thick before and behind them, and just as they crossed another block, fat raindrops peppered them from the sky.

"Shit," Castle muttered. "I don't want the rain to drive people indoors. We need the cover."

"It's not too bad," she offered. Even as she spoke, the rain picked up, splashes on her cheeks and forehead, trickling down her ear to her neck. It turned from a drizzle into a shower in seconds, getting them both wet, and she felt the chill soak down under the collar of her jacket.

Castle took her by the hand and they picked up their pace, walking under canopies when they could, ducking into doorways and then out again, not staying in one place for too long. The crowd began to thin, but it wasn't too bad. They still had cover.

Le Castel Cafe was on the corner, the maroon awning and discreet lettering indicated they had arrived. Kate huddled against the facade of the Starbucks across the street, Castle at her side as they surveyed the area.

"What do you think?" she asked. The rain had become uncomfortable now, and she unraveled the rubberband from her hair and scraped her fingers through its damp strands. Castle was watching the Cafe through the rain, and so Kate used that moment to redo her hair, pushing it back into a bun off of her neck this time.

"You good?"

"Better," she admitted. "How's it look?"

"We'll stay here for another few minutes, then go in and check it out."

"Okay," she agreed readily. She knew Castle's paranoia, and they were here because of her, so she would do whatever he required to assuage his sense of security.

"Looks warm in there," he offered.

Her mouth twisted in amusement for how he was trying for her - partners, right? - but she was okay. "I've got a leather jacket. You, on the other hand, are a little conspicuous in only a t-shirt."

"I've heard that one before," he said. He was still watching the cafe. She took his coffee cup from him and stole a hit of caffeine, studying the sidewalk to watch their backs.

She handed it over but he shook his head, still not taking his eyes off the cafe.

"You keep it," he murmured. "I'm good."

Kate smiled and sipped at his coffee, a little too sugary for her, but she'd take it.

She had just finished it off when Castle spoke again. "So far, so good. I'll leave you here, take a slow loop through the place, then signal you from inside when it's clear."

He hadn't looked at her yet, his eyes still scouring the place, and Kate pursed her lips as he stepped forward.

"Aye-aye, Captain," she snarked.

Castle broke, glanced at her, and he had a little twist of his lips in amusement. "Ah."

She raised an eyebrow and he came back, softly kissed her cheek. She wrapped an arm around his neck and nudged her hips into his.

"You still watching?" he murmured.

"My eyes haven't left the entrance," she answered. And they hadn't, of course.

They were taking their fun where they could find it, but she wasn't stupid. They were set to meet John Black.

Being paranoid was going to save their lives.