The Interview

by madreag

This is an AU story set in 2009. Richard Castle is engaged to marry a well-know Public Defender. During a TV interview he offers an opinion which puts him at odds with his friend the Mayor. As a result he agrees to work with the 12th Precinct where he meets their best detective, Kate Beckett and her team. His life quickly becomes, complicated.

10. Chapter 10

The Interview

Chapter 10

If she had been more observant, she would have known. Would have seen what was going on with her boyfriend. But she didn't. He had became increasingly upset as she would tell about her days work sprinkling the story with Castle's name. In fact their first big argument over Castle had come when the writer's contact information popped up on her cellphone.

Now, weeks later, there were frequent texts with questions over details on procedure that he could not understand. All this was in the name of research. At first, Demming complained. She and her tag-a-long spent days together, so why couldn't she answer his questions then? Why did this interloper have to interrupt their evenings? Her explanation was was always the same. He wrote at night and during the course of most days, there simply wasn't enough time.

But there was a deeper, unspoken point of contention between them. At least for Demming. It was how Beckett would drift away on the phone. Pacing and chatting with the guy for twenty minutes at a time. Then she'd return and try to pick up the string of their last conversation. It was evident that she was not interested, and her feigned attempts just angered him. But what was clear, was that she had no interest in what she'd missed. The bottom line was that she wasn't there in the first place.

When the phone rang, more that once in the same evening, he was filled with frustration. He would then lean over, kiss her on the cheek and whisper, "I'll see you later." To his surprise she seemed OK with his early departures. No fuss, no fight, no telling the writer she had to go. She just waved and continued with her call, answering questions and occasionally laughing. It was as though someone else was in the room, and Demming was the interruption. With these changes, he began to see a 'new Kate.' One that he did not even know, and was not interested in marrying.

XX

Melissa Marrone had gotten in late and left early for the last few days. As she ran out this particular morning she reminded him, through a sleepy haze, that they'd meet later for coffee.

As he dressed and headed out the door, he brimmed with excitement over telling her about the venue he'd visited the day before. When he arrived he spotted her across the shop and waved indicating he'd get coffee. From the line where he stood, he could tell she was on the phone, either reading or responding to an email. After a five minute wait for their order, he arrived and sat down her cup of coffee along with a bag containing scones. Meanwhile her thumbs hammered away at some message she was typing, she glanced up smiled, "Thanks."

When she was done, they chatted about her current case for a couple of minutes. She apologized for being so busy.

He smiled back, "I understand. I think I'm getting use to your trial and court demands."

She reached over and squeezed his hand, "I'm glad you understand. Most of the time it seems like my life is governed by the court's calendar, and not my own." She paused, "So what have you been up to the last couple of days?"

He beamed, "I have good new, we went by the Lighthouse at Pier 61 yesterday to take a look."

She looked up, "We? I thought you were at the police station yesterday?"

"We were out and in the area so I swung by."

Her tone harsh. "We?"

"Yeah, Beckett and I...interviewing a possible...lead…a fortune teller. Weird place. I have to show it to you sometime."

Melissa's face took on a scowl, ignoring the fortune teller comment, "You took her to one of our possible venues for the wedding?"

"Mel I thought you'd be pleased I took the time?"

"I am pleased, but it would have more meaningful... if you had done so with your future wife, not some cop."

There are times he wondered if he was going crazy. He had tried to surprise his fiancée by dropping by to look at a spot they had discussed. but now she was frosting up like the ice queen, because Beckett was in the car. The insult to this irony, was that Beckett was also offended that he would take her instead of Melissa. He'd decided he'd do the next one alone.

He tried again, "I just wanted to see the place and we were near," he paused and without thinking added, "You sound just like Beckett." His tone flat and defensive.

If looks could kill he would have been dead, "I what?" But she stopped and grabbed her coffee.

He sat quietly for a moment, hoping the caffeine would sooth her. His thought were interrupted by a gagging noise. Melissa's face contorted, like she'd just drank vinegar, "What is this Rick?"

"You're favorite, a grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla."

"That has never been my favorite!" As she looked out the window, her face turned hard. "And...the way you just spit that out...tells me you've ordered it more than once!" She paused again, putting on her lawyer face and then bored in, "Who drinks this crap?"

When he said nothing and looked away, she waited in silence, "Rick, look at me! Is this her drink?"

Again he did not respond. Melissa stood, grabbed her brief case, and shot a final cold stare, "I've got to get back, I'll see you this evening." She took two steps and turned around and hissed, "You can tell me about the location then."

He had stood, hoping to stop her, but then sat down and stared at the two cups of coffee and shook his head. He had to make a point of keeping the women in his life separate. Where Beckett teased and laughed off the mistake, Melissa was not so generous. He needed to be careful in his discussions to limit any references to Beckett or his police work. There was no questions, when it came to either subject, for Mel, there was no love lost.

XX

The house was now dark. Melissa was long asleep, but he could not slow down his brain. The discussion about the Lighthouse location for their wedding had not happened. Melissa had gotten home late and was still angry with him.

As he sat alone in the great room, Beckett crawled back into his head. Her comments about rings, and love, and what it all meant to her, had pried open doors he had long keep shut. They were doors he had no interest in looking behind, but now the old besetting fears were again flooding his heart. He decided to go to the roof, maybe fresh air would help.

It was a balmy clear night. The air smelled fresh from the recent rain. He took in a deep lung full and breathed out, trying to calm himself. As he made his way around the roof he saw the silhouette of his friend Gene sitting in one of the lawn chairs. His feet were propped up on the parapet wall, a cigar in his mouth.

Without turning to look he spoke, "Rick, that you?"

Castle let out a small laugh, "Who else would come up here in the middle of the night?"

"Have a seat on one of our WalMart's finest." Pointing at the flimsy plastic chair beside him.

"Thanks." Castle sat and sighed. "What brings you up here Gene?"

"The usual, as you know...I don't sleep that much. But...the real question is, what brings you up?"

"Ah, I don't know." Letting out another sigh.

"You know Rick, you lie as poorly in the dark as you do in the light."

Castle remained quiet for a little while, then, "Something at work, just won't let go."

"You talking cops and robbers, or writing?"

"Cops."

"What? A difficult case?"

"No, not a case."

"OK." Stretching out the word.

"We were driving across town, I commented that I was struggling with what size ring to buy Mel for the wedding. Beckett launched into this thing about..." He stopped and folded his hands in his lap.

"About what?"

"That the ring means nothing. That only love is important...how she wanted to wake up in twenty years next to the man she loved, knowing that she was the center of his world."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No! Of course not, but it made my talk about size, and diamonds seem stupid. Meaningless. She was talking about the magic of love. I was talking about the trappings." He paused again.

"This Beckett...she seems to... really get under your skin?"

"That wasn't what she was trying to do," He paused and his tone remained flat, "She was just speaking her heart."

"So what was it that upset you?"

"She was right. She was thinking deeper, thinking much...longer than I."

"Longer?"

"You know, down the road, years from now, when we're changed by time, and only love will count."

"She sounds like a smart cop and smart woman. But why does that bother you?"

"Because I hadn't thought that far. Hell, I haven't thought beyond the honeymoon and... here's Beckett reflecting on – a love for the ages."

"Rick..love is for the ages."

"I know, I know."

"Well...you answered that too fast." The older man turned and stared at Castle, waving his arms like a conductor of the night sky. "Love is a mystery, it is almost unexplainable." He paused and waited for Castle to make eye contact, "It's the antidote."

Turning to look at the old man, "Antidote? What does that mean?"

"It's the cure and protector of our short comings, our emptiness."

He stopped and let Castle consider what he had said. He had been in many conversations with the younger man. He'd sensed something was going on, maybe even subconsciously between Castle and the detective. She had indeed gotten under his skin. Invaded his world, and not with just insight into police work. Somehow there had been a deeper connection. She was able to push aside the buzz of planning a wedding, forcing him to think seriously about what he was doing. "Do you wonder why you and the detective...click or maybe even clash so much?"

"I do. But, I can't explain that either." He let out a weak laugh, "We seem to think in unison. It can be frightening at times."

"Thinking alike is not dangerous."

"It's not just alike. It's more of a reading of one another's thoughts. We arrive at the same the conclusions, simultaneously. It makes us, and everyone around us, laugh." Castle smiled as he thought about the last time it had happened.

"I can imagine. So tell me, what do think about this...unusual connection between you and this woman?"

"Honestly Gene, I don't know. She's a real mystery to me...and I'm not looking for a mysterious women to understand."

Again Gene let silence do some of the work, "This may not sound related, but I think it might be." Leaning forward, hands on his knees, "I have learned that we are best at breaking things. We are the problem...and no one else. Life is a balancing act! Looking to the future, but accepting things as they are...finding a degree of satisfaction with where we are." He sat up and looked out onto the City. As he did his voice turned even more solemn. "But there is a potential danger in us, a life-paralyzing thing. I've seen it over and over, in people, in my friends and even myself. We set aside something good or even miss something great, for something that is allusive. Something I think I want, even need...but in the end I've traded all I have, for something I already possessed. And in the trade, in my folly, I missed it. Only then do I discover...that in this exchange, I got something of a much lesser value..."

Castle was not sure he understood, but listened and waited. But his friend had no more to add. Even though he sensed him his presence, it seemed as though he was far away.

"Are you telling me, I've swapped something for...I'm not even sure how to phrase the question."

The old man stirred, his voice low, a whisper, "I'm telling you that life is hard….it takes lots of diligence…but..."

Again Castle waited, but the old man was quiet again. "But what Gene?"

"Do you think it's an accident that you're at the Twelfth Precinct? At this precise moment in life?" He paused, "There is one thing I do know Rick...there's just no such thing as a coincidence."

XX

It was always hard to know what the traffic would be like on any given day in Manhattan. There were times when both the sidewalks and streets where so congested, no one moved. Some said the energy of New York was generated by the compression of so many into such a limited space. But for those who worked there, it was a constant source of irritation. On this day, it was going no where. The task had been a quick run by a neighbor of the victim for a few follow-up questions. Instead it ended up being traffic jam at the 1st and Houston parking lot, formerly a street. The culprit today, was a truck that had died, blocking traffic in all directions.

Again Detective Beckett found herself alone, in her cruiser with Richard Castle. She was trying to keep things cool, and the conversation light. But Madame Johns was still rummaging around in her head and Beckett was still trying to sort out her warning. Then her passenger was speaking.

"Hey, see that parking place, take it!"

"Why Castle?" Her voice dripping with irritation.

"We're a couple of blocks from Economy Candy, I want to pick up some Abba-Zaba's for Alexis."

Without speaking, she swung into the parking space. Eyes dancing as she looked at him, "Great idea! We're not going anywhere for a while in this traffic...and I love that place."

They both became kids in a candy store. They would hold up the many bit size confections and talk about when they first recalled eating it. One of Beckett's favorites was Oh Henry! Her mom told her that when she was young and out tricker-treating, one year she had refused all candy except, Oh Henry's.

Castle stopped and shoulder bumped her, "Did you really do that?"

She was still laughing at the idea, "I can't remember, but I should ask my Dad."

Each had a basket they were filling. While Beckett bought twice as much as she planned, Castle went crazy. His basket was filled with: Bit-O-honeys, 5th Avenues, Mary Jane's, 100 Grands, Chick-O-Sticks, Big Hunks, Charleston Chews, Clark Bars, U-No Bars and Paydays.

While Beckett was selecting candy from a different isle, Castle secretly hid a box of Tootsie Pops at the bottom of his basket. He would give them to her later, so she could be like Telly Savalas, who played Detective Kojak, on an old TV show. The actor had never appeared without a Tootsie Pop hanging from his mouth. Finally he hid five bags of O' Henry's. His plan was to hide them in her desk, her cruiser and the break room.

But he was not alone in the game. At the same time Beckett secreted away ten bubble gum cigars. For another day.

As Castle was scurrying up an aisle, adding more and more to his basket, Beckett just watched. She had not seen him so fascinated or gleeful. All she could do was laugh. When he looked up her, the look in his eyes was like an electrical jolt to her stomach. She wanted to close the space between them and wrap her arms around his neck. He seemed to sense something in her expression.

"Beckett, you OK!"

She let out another laugh, "You are such a kid."

"It's a candy store Beckett, I'm suppose to be kid. "

"Well we gotta go! You going to have that shipment delivered?"

"Cute, go check out, I'm right behind you."

They met outside, she shook her head, "Two grocery bags, of candy! Really Castle?"

"Be nice, there's something special in here for you!"

"That so?" Her eyes dancing in glee, "You'll like what I got you better!"

He laughed, "You're on."

XX

By the time they returned to the precinct the boys were mumbling about calling 911.

"Where have you guys been?" Esposito huffed.

"Got stuck in traffic, and made a detour."

Ryan raised his eye, "What kind of a detour."

Beckett offered a causal, "Nothing, just a pit stop."

"For three hours? You have to dig the pit?"

She now glared at him, "Is there a point to these questions Detective Ryan."

"Yeah we've been stuck here for hours doing paper work and you come back acting like the cat who ate the mouse."

Castle looked at Beckett, "You see any mice?"

She tried not to smile, "Nope, not me."

"Castle your an interloper and your covering for her,' pointing at Beckett. "She doesn't even like you." Espo laughed.

Before Castle could counter Beckett jumped in, "Yeah right! I don't like the guy who stepped in front of a drunk with a bat for me? In comparison to my team who gives me nothing but grief." She shook her head.

Castle smiled, "See! She likes me!"

It's was Ryan turn, "She doesn't like anybody!"

XX

A week later Castle stood in the break room shaking his head. He wasn't quite sure how it had happened. But what he did recall was Esposito and Ryan giving him grief about being a 'rich guy' and not living like the rest of the world. And his hasty response.

"Very little changes guys. Happiness is not hidden between hundred dollar bills. Old worries are replaced with new ones, and the day-to-day business of life...continues."

"Yeah, well you live in a palace, and we all live down in the squirrel cage."

"I don't live in a palace."

"OK, if that's so, we always do something for the 4th of July, how about we do it this year at Castle's flop house?"

"You're on! Melissa would be happy to meet you two."

"Now you are lying Castle." Esposito laughed out loud. "You're here for talking trash. And she's a public defender? We're probably on her personal hit list."

Ignoring the insult, "Who's we this party?"

"You know, we, the gang here at the Twelfth. It's no more than 15 or 20 people." Ryan's face wide with a smile, "You want out Castle?"

"Of course not. Let's do it."

The party to celebrate the nations birth, ended up with about 25 people, the majority from the Twelfth. The balance included his mom, Alexis, Melissa, two of her legal assistants and finally two of Castles three partners on the Beckett Building project.

The party had gone well but it had been a hard sell to Melissa. Not only was her fiancée working with the wrong team, he was now partying with them. He'd convinced her to invite a couple of her staff so they could meet the guys, particularly Esposito who was foot loose and on the prowl.

It was clear from Beckett's comments that Demming was also not excited about going to a party at the ride-a-longs house. But she too had prevailed, telling him the majority of attendees would be cops.

After the meal the group remained around the large table. Esposito wanted to get Castle's goat and asked where he had been attacked by the guy with the bat.

The answer was instantaneous, "34th & Lexington." But with the answer, the room had gone silent. Tom Demming stared at Castle. Melissa Marrone at Beckett. For without even glancing at one another they had both responded in perfect sync. The silence was finally broken by Lanie who cheerfully offered, "They do that!"

Castled studied the grim face on his fiancée and stood. Taking on the part of a happy host he asked, "Who would like another Guinness? Or maybe some wine?" Moving towards the kitchen as he spoke. He heard the chatter start again and exhaled a breath of relief.

He stood at the refrigerator, leaning his head in and letting the cool air waft against his face. He startled when he felt a hand cover his own on the door handle. Stepping back, he stared into the warm green eyes of Kate Beckett.

"Sorry Castle!" She glanced down at the floor for a moment and then her head came back, eyes now determined, "Tom and I would like a Guinness."

He handed her the two bottles and pointed at the opener on the counter.

XX

The two woman sat and just took in the quiet. The last guest had left, Castle and Melissa had gone into the office and closed the door.

Alexis had turned and was looking at the same door. She could hear only muffed voices from the other side. "Grams, can I ask you something?"

Martha Rogers responded to her her granddaughter by turning and giving her her full attention. "Of course you can, but," holding up her hand, "The answer is yes."

Alexis laughed, "I haven't asked anything yet."

"Some things...us girls just know." Smiling broadly. "And judging by the look, or should I say looks on your face throughout our little shindig today, the answer is, a definite yes."

"You really think so?"

"Think is far to weak a word my dear. People think about the weather, and change their minds. So, I don't think I'm right, I know I am."

"Oh Grams." The younger looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, "This is going to be ugly."

"Indeed it will, but," She stopped for another dramatic pause, "I fear the train has left the station, and will not be returning."

"You know...I like her?"

"Which her?"

"Actually, both of them." Sadness now coloring the young girl's expression.

"I know, I do too."

"Dad has been happy with Melissa and when he's happy, I'm happy." She stopped for a second, a thought snagging her attention, "Do you think he knows?"

"Of course not!" Wagging her finger at her granddaughter, "Learn this early my dear, men are seldom the sharpest tool in the box."

"Grams! A feminist at heart?"

"But of course, how do you think I've survived all these years?"

"Are you going to tell dad about his...his problem?"

"And spoil the fun?"

"I thought you agreed it would be ugly?"

"Oh it won't be pleasant, and I was jesting about fun." Her face became serious, "I too want your dad to be happy, and not just for a few months or a few years. I want him to be happy for a long time and that can only happen with the right person. As much as I like Melissa, I've never felt she was the one. I'm sorry to say that because it means my son will have to suffer before he's truly happy."

"But you can't tell him?"

"You or I can only observe. Ultimately he has figure this out."

"I thought so." She looked around the room, evidence of the now ended party everywhere. "Do you think Detective Beckett knows?"

"I do. She sparkles when she looks at your Dad, but, only him."

"I thought so too. I'm sticking with it being ugly."

"You're probably right."

XX

When she arrived at the precinct Captain Montgomery called her in.

"Detective please sit," pointing at the chair.

"What's up sir?"

"Well I have some...news." He paused, "I appreciate your willingness to allow the Mayor's friend to follow your team."

"I can put up with anything for awhile Sir." Smiling with an expression of pain.

"We're going to have to test your meaning of, for awhile."

She leaned forward, "I don't understand."

"Mr. Castle has asked to remain on board, indefinitely."

Acting shocked. "What? Why? Hasn't he already done his time?"

"It seems he's decided..." Her boss let the words trail away.

"Decided what sir?"

The Captain swiveled in his chair toward the window, hands steepled. As if her question had been answered, he moved on. "The Mayor is happy with the interest Mr. Castle has shown in the PD, and particularly with this homicide department. If the Mayor is happy, the people at 1PP are happy. You get my point." It was not a question.

"I'm still confused..."

"Detective I'll let Mr. Castle explain why he wants to be here and, why he's been given the Mayor's blessing."

"Sir, I..." but her bosses phone rang, he glanced at the screen.

He muttered, "Need to take this, please close the door on the way out." And pulled the phone off the cradle.

She stood outside his office for just a beat, trying to keep the smile from showing on her face. She never expected this, but was pleased. It certainly worked for her. Her task was to never let Castle know.

XX

Two hours later Castle arrived at the precinct. She saw him when the doors opened, although she wasn't looking.

"Detective, how are you today?"

She noticed he didn't have coffee today and greeted him with a you-tell-me tone, "Well not as good as you."

"What does that mean?" His eyebrows rising.

"Let me buy you a cup of our crap coffee." She pointed at the break room and headed in that direction.

Castle followed thinking, this was going to be an ear full. He had a pretty good idea she had gotten the word of his continued work at the Twelfth. He wasn't sure how she would react. Her signals confused him. Fortunately he had the Mayor, and her Captain on his side. She would no doubt complain but have to put up with him. Still he needed her cooperation, not resistance. He wanted to continue picking her brain and hang his fictional character around this real, live, Nikki. He had decided he'd tell her the truth, from the get-go. When he walked into the break room she was already pouring the sludge. She turned and sat two cups on the counter and slid one in his direction. She then leaned back against the counter's edge and put her hands on her hips, "So tell me, how did you pull off this thing with the Mayor?"

He was taken back by the intensity of her look. "I...I explained that...I had learned a lot here and...thought there was a lot was more to discovered."

She pushed off the counter and took a step closer, "Let me guess, you want to become a cop?"

"No! No!" Shaking his head profusely, "I just want to follow your team some more."

"To what end Castle?"

With dancing eyes he fired back, "Research!"

"Research for what?"

"Ah...just research."

"No, that's not going to do. Research for what?"

"A couple of things."

"Why is it so hard for you to be honest with me?"

"It's not, I...I'm not sure you really...want to know." He wondered what part of telling her from the get-go this was.

"Know what Castle? I'm a cop, not a mind reader."

"OK, its...it's for a book about a homicide detective."

"And that was hard to say? But ...what makes me think, there's more?"

"Well, sorta." A smile pushed aside his concern, "You're gonna love her."

"She shook her head, "Her? I doubt it!"

XX

Later that evening Beckett was thinking about the changes to come with Castle's decision to stay on. It made her smile again. But then a cloud swept across her mind and it scared her. It drove her back to her high school days where she'd seen something in herself. Something she didn't like it. She had thought of it as the "thrill of the steal." It brought a frown to face at the very recollection.

She recalled a rival at her high school who bugged her. Beckett decided that snide remarks wouldn't do any good. So she turned her attention to the rival's boyfriend. After she won his affections, and crushed the other girl, she was became bored with the young man and ended it. One of her friends asked her what short-lived romance was about. The young Beckett replied, "Catch & Release, you know C&R." Telling her friend, "There are lots of fish in the sea."

The practice continued into college where men were clearly attracted to her. She could not resist the temptation, to repeat the "Catch & Release" game, until she set her sights on a nerdy guy. She was able to do 'the catch,' but then he quickly became bored with Beckett and told her so. That was her last C&R for her. She had discovered it was too unpleasant to be on the other end of her game.

Now she struggled with those memories from her juvenile game. The playing with people's hearts and wondered if she had truly changed. She and Marrone had worked against one another, Castle was Marrone's fiancée and they were zeroing in on wedding plans. So Beckett questioned her own motives, but certain she did not want to play the old game. But her inner urge to stop the relationship and marriage felt oddly familiar and she didn't fully trust herself.

"What are frowning for Kate?" Demming asked as he set a magazine down he had been reading.

"Oh, nothing, just a long day." She hated to lie, but what was troubling her needed to be left unsaid. Because in the end, it said volumes about her and Demming and she hoped they would not have another discussion about the writer. She was wrong.

"You still have the stalker with you." His tone incredulous.

"He's not a stalker...he's someone in political time-out, thanks to our Mayor." She immediately thought of the commitment Demming wanted from her. To move on, settle in and settle down. So talk about the 'writer or stalker' was subtext for 'why are you spending your days with another guy and won't take the next step with me.' When she didn't say more she drifted to the crazy candy store run. Castle was no stalker, but he could sure be crazy. She was pulled back to the room when Demming cleared his throat.

"Hey where'd you go?"

"I'm sorry Tom...just a long day." Before either could speak her phone vibrated on the coffee table. She saw the caller ID.

Awake?

As she looked at the phone thinking, bad timing, she also felt something jump in her chest, "It's just Castle."

He stood and shook his head, his face coloring, "Great, still stalking I see." He walked to the kitchen.

She typed, Yeah.

Time for a question?

She struck the keys again, Sure.

She waited for a minute before he responded. Tom returned, "What does he want?"

"Don't know, he had a question, I suppose he's writing." The phone shook.

What are the most common mistakes with chain of custody from the crime scene to the lab?

"What's the question?" Demming asked with a huff.

"He wants to know about chain of custody errors from a crime scene to the lab."

She turned to her phone, and typed, What?

Her screen immediately lit up, I'm writing, this has to be real.

She typed her response, Call me.

"You done with him?" His voice clear with its disdain over the interruption.

"No he's calling."

"Great! I'll be in the bedroom."

As he flopped onto the bed, he heard her phone ring and then her answer. What bothered him most was the way she responded to the jerk. He heard a tone in her voice, that he'd never heard when he called. Even though all she said was "Hey, Castle." There was just to much warmth, too much something. He got up and closed the door.

TBC