Chapter 7

So, after the difficulties I had with chapter 6, this one flowed as easily as anything.

In case anyone didn't get it already, I'm completely winging it with the case. I know almost nothing about police procedures, and have no idea yet whether this case will become a bigger part of the story, or just stay as a back plot.


Rick was starting to get a little irritated. He was trying to pack a suitcase for the trip to L.A tomorrow, but his progress was being severely hampered by the two women who, for better or worse, he called family.

"Oh no, Richard." His mother announced, "That shirt makes you look positively middle aged. Short-sleeved button downs do not work for you."

He looked over at her, sat on his bed eyeing the perfectly acceptable dark blue shirt with disdain. "I like this shirt. And I never look middle aged, do I Alexis?"

His daughter, who was busy folding the clothes he'd picked out, looked up at him, with an expression that clearly told him she wasn't going to get involved, and said, "Dad, are you sure you need this much? You're only going for four days."

He directed a crooked smile at her, allowing her to dodge the question. "Of course I do, kiddo. Think of all the parties I might be invited to, all the people I might meet."

"And all of the pretty, impressionable young women you might meet." Martha cut in with a dramatic flourish. "Just don't come back married, that's all I ask."

Alexis wrinkled her nose at that. "Ew. Dad, I really don't want a step mom who's only a few years older than me."

Rick saw the amused look on both of their faces, but still felt a little wounded. I'm not that bad. I'd never do something that impulsive. He tried to make light of it. "I doubt I'm going to have time to propose to anyone. You have nothing to worry about."

Before Alexis could voice the thought that her arch smile indicated, she heard her cell phone ringing in her bedroom, and hurried out to answer it. Rick discarded the shirt that had been deemed unacceptable by Martha and reached for another. "Does this one meet your exacting standards, mother?"

She nodded, a tolerant smile on her face. "Really, Richard, you should trust me. I know fashion far better than you can ever hope to."

"Right, sure. Well next time I go shopping, I'll be sure to take you with me." He glanced at the open door, to make sure Alexis wasn't in earshot, leaning towards Martha, and speaking in a low voice. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that in front of her." At Martha's confused look, he clarified, "About pretty women. I'm under no illusions about my romantic history, but I don't want Alexis thinking less of me because of it."

Martha looked shocked now, "She doesn't think less of you! She never could." He busied himself with brushing imaginary lint of the shirt he was holding. Recently, he'd noticed Alexis had taken a dim view of rumours that had appeared about him in the tabloids. Not unhappy or angry, just… disappointed in some way. He'd reassured her that they were just rumours, that the two women he was being linked with were barely even known to him, but still, he could read her like a book.

It was something he'd worried about. He'd always been careful about exposing Alexis to that sort of thing. Rick had been very discreet in the few liaisons he'd had when she was younger. Gina had been the first girlfriend he'd ever introduced to her, and he hadn't done that until he'd started considering asking her to marry him. For nearly all Alexis' life, it had just been the two of them, a happy little family, and no need for anyone else. Of course, Meredith had been an occasional visitor, but not often enough to disrupt the fabric of their lives. He'd feared that Alexis might have reacted badly to the prospect of sharing him with anyone else, but even at twelve, she'd been mature enough to realize that a new woman in Rick's life wasn't a threat to her.

Since his second divorce, Alexis had kept her own counsel about the dates Rick went on, and the brief relationships he'd had. She was certainly smart enough to have no illusions about what he got up to, but he still went out of his way to be discreet. He'd been apprehensive that, as she got older, Alexis would start to think his behaviour with women was unpleasant or, much worse, the way relationships were supposed to work.

This recent attitude change was the first hint he'd had that she might be forming opinions to the former.

Martha shook him out of his reverie, "Richard, we were joking. Both of us. But if you're really worried, then I'll stop." Her expression turned stern as she added, "But if you really don't want people saying that, or thinking it… Well, there's only one way around it."

Have a proper relationship. He added, in his head. Looking up at Martha again, he decided to take a chance. "I'm working on it." He said, quietly, and saw her eyes widen.

"Working on it? You mean…"

"I mean, I've developed a… fondness… for a woman. And I'd like to pursue it." He avoided looking at Martha, suddenly feeling like he was fifteen again, and asking her advice on how to ask a girl to the prom.

"We are talking about Detective Beckett, aren't we?" She asked, knowingly, and he nodded. "Well, it's hardly been a secret, Richard. You spend almost every daylight hour with the woman, you've written a book about her. Why so hesitant?"

Rick walked over to the window, and peered out, trying to organize his thoughts. "Because she's my friend, the closest thing I have to a partner. I don't want to screw things up."

"Oh, now this is serious. Richard, are you in love with her?" Martha sounded stunned, and he could understand why. He'd studiously avoided any sort of deep connection with a woman for most of his adult life, ill advised marriages aside.

His answer was quiet, and a bit more wobbly than he'd have liked. "No. I'm not. Not yet, but I think I could be, one day." He turned around to see what Martha thought, and saw that she was truly amazed, smiling at him with soft eyes.

"Oh, my son," She began, moving towards him. "You shouldn't be scared of that. She seems to be a wonderful woman, and she obviously cares a great deal about you, too. Has anything happened?"

"No," He began, suddenly vexed again. "She's seeing someone. A cop. He's a good guy." He hated the mockery in his voice, but whatever way he cut it, Demming was a good man.

Martha fixed him with sympathetic eyes, "Well, if she doesn't have those sort of feelings for you, then it's really not your choice, is it? You can't force her to break up with this other man for you."

"But that's just it. She does have those feelings for me. I'm sure she does. We had a moment a couple of days ago. She was upset that I might be leaving, and got all hot and bothered about it." He grew more animated as he recalled the look on Beckett's face, and the wrench it had been for him to walk away when she was so receptive to him. "But she calmed down, and told me I should go, that I had no reasons to stay…"

"And you told her that she was one of your reasons." Martha interrupted, with a sardonic grin. By way of explaining how she'd guessed what he was going to say, she told him "You tell a good story, Richard, but I've heard them all before. So, did you pluck up the courage to kiss her?" He shook his head, "Touch her?" Again, he shook his head. "Told her you wanted to be more?" At his third denial, she let out an exasperated cry. "Well, you won't get anywhere pussyfooting around like that."

"She has a boyfriend!" He protested, "I can't just try to kiss her."

"Why not? It's up to her whether she lets you or not." She rolled her eyes at his affronted face. "Richard, chivalry is all very good. But if you don't at least let her know she's got a choice to make, then you might as well fly to Los Angeles and never come back." With that, she marched over to his open case, neatly folding the shirt that he'd been crumpling in his hands for the past five minutes, and laid it inside.

Rick was letting her words sink in, testing for weaknesses in the logic, when Alexis reappeared, a studiously glum look on her face. "What's wrong, pumpkin?" He asked, glad of the distraction.

"That was mom. She said she won't be in L.A next week. She's shooting a guest appearance for some show, on location in San Diego, so she won't be able to meet up with you."

"Oh, well, that's ok I guess." He said, trying to hide his relief. He did like spending time with Meredith every now and then, but he didn't think it was a good idea to see her whilst he was working through this Beckett thing. Besides, he had the distinct feeling that Kate Beckett wouldn't be so keen to take a chance on him if he had recently taken advantage of his ex-wife's 'benefits'. "I'll be able to catch up with her another time, I'm sure."

"Yes," Martha said, breezily, "A real shame, I'm sure. Oh well, we don't have all day to get this done." She frowned down at the half filled suitcase. "Really, Richard, why can't you be more of a typical man about this, and just take two pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts. Alexis is right, one would think you were leaving for a month."

Rick shared a wry look between the two of them, "Well, however much I'm taking, we need to get this done. I want to drop by the precinct, see how they're getting on with the case." He wanted to see if any more progress had been made on the lead he'd come up with. And maybe, if he got the opportunity, he might try to put his mother's advice into practice.


Kate Beckett was feeling very satisfied with herself at the moment. The new direction they had taken the case in was starting to yield results. Ryan and Esposito had been cross referencing robbery cases with the items recovered from the vic's warehouse, and had accounted for over half of the stuff already. She was sure that they'd soon have narrowed their search down to just a couple of cases. That was when they could really start looking for their murderer.

And it was all thanks to Castle's leap of deduction. She smiled to herself, contemplating the man. She'd been in love with his mind for years, ever since she'd picked up a copy of Hell Hath No Fury. He dismissed that book as one of his "lesser works", but it had always held a special place in her heart, as the one that had taken her, even temporarily, out of her world of grief and pain, and placed her in the fantastical world of murderous witches and adept detectives. It had been a shock when she'd met the man behind the stories that had entranced her, and discovered a boisterous man-child who somehow slipped all measures employed to control him.

But before long, she'd realized that brain was as sharp as his novels always indicated. He could look at the facts of a case, and come up with a theory within minutes. Ok, so they weren't always plausible, some were plain crazy, but he never stopped trying. Sooner or later, he'd hit the right note, and carry her along with him. It intrigued her how often they'd both arrive at the same answer, despite the vastly different thought processes they used.

And before too long, she had forgiven the man she'd almost idolized for being so different to what she'd expected, and began to appreciate him for what he was. Her smile widened as she reminisced over the fun they'd had this past couple of years. He'd wrought changes in her that she'd never have imagined. She still saw cops in the office react with surprise when, instead of biting down and rejecting the jokey camaraderie, she embraced it, often coming out on top. Yes, she'd always had a sisterly sort of relationship with Esposito, and Ryan, despite being so clearly scared of her when he first arrived, had wormed his way into her affections as well. But she had usually been too caught up in doing her job to be any more than courteous and professional with most of the other officers.

Kate remembered telling Castle that he made her job more fun, and he had. But more than that, he'd made her feel like she could actually have fun at work, without feeling guilty about it. He'd become a good friend. At that, the smile slipped, and she frowned instead. A friend? That's not what he is, and you know it. Her conversation with Lanie the previous morning flashed through her head, her admission that she wanted Castle as more than a friend. She couldn't deny it now, but she didn't know what to do about it.

If I take a risk, if I'm brave enough, it could all go so horribly wrong. If it did, she'd be hurt. Badly. She really wasn't sure she could withstand that, not after how difficult it had been getting over Will. He left, what if Castle does too? This screenplay wasn't going away, she knew. Whatever his reservations, his reasons for staying in New York, they had to be outweighed eventually by the chance to further his career. She shook her head, angry at herself for allowing negativity to ruin her musings so soon. She couldn't do anything about that possibility, it was going to be Castle's decision, and she wouldn't interfere. Definitely not.

Trying to deflect her concerns, she stood up and walked over to Ryan and Esposito, who were both staring at their computer screens, in what seemed to be placid study. "Hey, guys," she called, rousing them, "Anything interesting?"

Ryan spoke first, rolling his shoulders as though they were stiff. "Not anything huge. Managed to cross another robbery off our list. It looks like most of this stuff was taken when the owners were away. No violence to speak of. I guess the vic had a reputation, after squealing on those guys." He looked over to his partner, tagging him in with a nod.

"Yeah," Esposito began, brandishing a file, "There were a couple of muggings, watches, wallets and jewellery. No more violence than a bit of pushing, though. The vic's in each case said the muggers were young. Teenagers probably."

Kate pondered this. It wasn't that unusual, really, to have muggers refrain from using violence. Good sense really, unless it was unavoidable. But every one of these cases were robberies done without injury to the victims. "Don't you think it's a bit weird, that not one piece that was recovered from our vic was taken with violence?" Both Ryan and Esposito nodded vigorously, having followed this train of thought themselves whilst reviewing the cases.

"Maybe more people than Demming thought knew about the guy's aversion to violent crime." Esposito reasoned. Ryan nodded, and Kate felt inclined to draw the same conclusion.

"So either he would only fence stuff taken without violence, or only those thieves who took without hurting people would go to him." She thought those seemed to be the likely options. "I don't really get it, though. If a guy gets a reputation for informing to the police, how long is he going to last in the criminal underworld?"

"Not long," Ryan stated with a snort. "I still think that's our most likely motive."

"Maybe," Kate allowed, "But Tom's guys made those arrests six months ago, the trials were fast tracked by the guilty pleas. It's all been done and dusted for a good four months. If anyone knew about what the vic had done, they'd have gone after him before now."

"Well, according to these cases, plenty of people do know. Or at least suspect." Esposito sounded frustrated, and Kate could understand why.

From progress to standstill in an instant, she thought. "OK, let's forget the violence aspect, for the time being, and focus on narrowing down our list of suspects. How many cases are left to account for?"

"From the ones Robbery sent up, just eight." Ryan said, glancing at the files still stacked on his desk.

"Right, well let's get them cleared. It's not out of the realms of possibility that one of those will tell us that someone had something very important to them stolen, and it won't be in the list of items we found." They both sighed heavily, but avoided making eye contact with her as she quirked an eyebrow. "No complaints? Good."

As she was turning to go back to her desk, she caught sight of a familiar and welcome figure stepping off the elevator. "Afternoon, Castle," She called, her lips curving in a pleased smile. "I thought you were busy preparing for your big trip."

The smile he sent back at her warmed her heart. "I was, I have. All packed and ready to go. No thanks to Alexis and my mother."

"Why, what did they do?" Kate asked, falling into step with him as he headed for the break room. "I thought they'd be glad to get some peace for a few days."

His fake laugh at that made her want to giggle, except that Kate Beckett didn't giggle. Ever. "They were fine with me leaving, just critical of my wardrobe." She eyed him up and down, as though critiquing the clothes he was wearing.

"They aren't so bad, Castle." She told him, playfully, "Though you could do with a lint brush."

"Thank you, Detective," He replied, nodding in gratitude at her advice. "I'll let you off for the crack, though. I can see it was just an excuse to check me out." Kate felt her cheeks flush, and cursed inwardly at how easy it was for him to get a reaction out of her.

Castle busied himself at the espresso machine, "Why, Beckett, you're looking awfully pink all of a sudden. Was it something I said?"

"Now who's checking who out, Castle?" She retorted, determined to give as good as she got, then regretted it when he smirked.

"Oh, I'm not going to pretend to have done otherwise. You're always worth checking out." He handed her a cup of coffee and she dipped her head, not wanting him to see the pleasure that simple act gave her. Especially after yesterday. "So, how's the case going? Any suspects yet?"

Kate looked up at him, and realized that he must have seen her reaction to the coffee. There was a softness to his expression, and a light in his eyes that made her feel flustered again. "Um… yeah. I mean no… No one yet. We're working through the cases from Robbery, eliminating them."

"Good," he said, smiling at her intently. "Because there's something I want to talk to you about."

She just looked at him, not sure what to say. Clearly this was going to be important, but she wasn't sure she was ready for whatever it was he was going to tell her. She opened her mouth to voice those doubts, but he raised a finger and placed it over her lips, shocking her into silence. "Just let me talk, ok?" She nodded, a frisson of heat spreading through her, originating at her lips, where his finger was still pressed.

Kate watched, a bundle of nerves now, as he quickly closed the break room door and returned to stand in front of her. He took a deep breath, and she saw that he was as nervous as her. "Right." He started, staring into her eyes, "As you know, I'm going to L.A tomorrow, for four days. I'll be back sometime on Wednesday evening." She knew this already. This wasn't why he was acting so strangely.

He continued, "I know this is far from the ideal way to do this, but if I wait until I get back, I might lose my nerve." Now she was worried. Lose his nerve over what?

He took another deep breath, and then let it out in a rush. "Kate, I'm fond of you. More than fond. I'd really like to get to know you better, in a non-professional capacity. Starting when I get back from L.A." Kate was astounded, trying to absorb his words and make sense of them. They ran so close to the thoughts she'd been having all day that she couldn't quite believe the coincidence. Still, that thread of fear remained, and clearly it ran through both of them.

She struggled for a moment before finding her voice. "Castle, are you asking me out on a date?" The voice she found was almost unrecognizable, quavering and unsure.

"Yes." He answered, and she let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, her whole body sagging. He obviously didn't know how to take that reaction, because he hurriedly added, "Don't answer now. Just think about it, please." His eyes had taken on a fervent cast now, as he stared at her face. His hands came up, as though he'd grasp her arms, but fell away and he backed off. "I'm going to go now, and let you decide. No pressure."

Kate tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come, and she just watched him rush out of the break room, calling a hasty farewell to Ryan and Esposito, who looked up, baffled. Wow. That was it. The totality of her thoughts at the moment. Her brain was frozen, but the rest of her body felt hot, searing.

She was glad he'd given her these four days to decide, because she had to be sure she got this one right. Her heart was screaming at her to throw sense out of the window and follow it blindly, but her dreary, safe head was already giving her a list of reasons why she should run and hide before it all went wrong. This would be the biggest risk she'd taken in years. Did she dare?


So, what will Kate decide? You'll probably find out in the next day or two. Please review.

Bonus points for anyone who can find the bit I lifted from Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series.