I know, I know… I said I wanted to update sooner. I admit, this time it's purely on me. I had to go save the world. From Alduin the World-Eater. :)

Chapter 10: Negotiations

Apparently being released from the hospital doesn't mean much to the police: I leave the hospital in cuffs and I am brought to the precinct immediately. That the G-Man had new instructions for me just minutes before I'm shipped off to the Twelfth doesn't really better my mood, to be honest.

I push back these thoughts as LT comes to pick me up in the lobby and bring me into the homicide division's interrogation room upstairs, where he tells me to wait.

And I wait.

And wait.

Finally, after what feels like hours, but was really only about twenty minutes according to my watch, Beckett and Esposito enter the room and take seats across from me.

What do I have to lose, really? Now that I think of it, not much. Hm… let's see if we can throw them off their game a little bit, shall we?

I lean forward with my hands folded and a friendly smile on my face. "Good afternoon, detectives. How can I help you?"

Already I can see Beckett's right eye twitch slightly, but both continue to look straight ahead at me. "You face charges of obstruction of justice, and accessory to murder, you do know that?" she asks deadpan.

"Of course I do!" No, I don't. Nice to know. "And yet, you're 'interviewing' me, a minor, who is all alone in interrogation against two hardened detectives. Isn't someone missing here?... Ah screw that, isn't there a waiver or something I can sign? I'm a big boy, I can handle an interrogation, even from you, Beckett." No, I don't. Maybe? "And you, too, Espo, of course. Wouldn't want to neglect the former Special Forces guy, would I?" I ask rhetorically and lean back in my seat, still with the same smile on my face.

Now I have their attention. And they even look at each other shocked. Left, right, and straight for the knock out! Okay, not really, but it's a good start.

"How do you know that?" Esposito asks. "No one outside this floor ever calls me Espo, and my past with the Special Forces isn't public knowledge."

Ahem… yeah… so it happens I can get their attention… as it turns out I'm also really bad at planning ahead. And as always when something like this happens, I fall back on what all people who didn't like doing their homework have perfected over the years.

I improvise.

I look around and my gaze settles on the camera in the corner of the room. "I… err… would really like a coffee right now. Detective Beckett, would you mind showing me the way?" I ask, desperately hoping she gets the hint.

She exchanges looks with Esposito, and apparently she wants to go, and Espo asks if she's serious, and she tells him that she can handle a fifteen year old boy. Seasons of reading 'oozing subtext' have made me rather good at this.

"All right. This way." With this, she leaves the table and an uncomfortable looking hispanic detective to walk into the bullpen, expecting me to follow, which I gladly do.

Once we're in the break room (which is hopefully not named in the same fashion as the interrogation room), the coffee machine comes into my view and I really, really want to fast forward to when Castle has already 'donated' a new one to relieve the division from monkey pee on battery acid.

She pours a cup of coffee and wordlessly holds it in my direction to which I only shake my head. "No, thanks. I don't drink coffee, I just want to talk."

Beckett shrugs and takes a sip herself from the offered cup. Her frown gets a little deeper when the vile fluid hits her taste buds, but she shows no other reaction. Commendable, surely.

Then she leans back against the counter and watches me intently over the rim of her cup, through the steam of the hot coffee. It's a little bit intimidating that I have to look up to her, but that's probably the four inch heels, at least partially.

"Now, I'm only here as a courtesy, Jonny. You want to talk? Fine, but first, you listen to me: the prosecutor is dying to try you as an adult and make an example out of you. He has to close this case fast and clean, or he can kiss his political career goodbye. I don't say I like this, in fact I really don't like this, but you have to give me something really good to make a deal. So what have you got for me that you couldn't say in front of the camera?"

"What I was going to say has changed a bit after what you just said, but it stayed basically the same: I can give you access to my network." When I see her sceptical expression, I push on. "I'm young to be an information broker, but… let's just say I inherited it. And before you ask, no, there was no criminal activity involved in the process." Unless interdimensional traveling is now outlawed, that is. "Whenever you're stuck, give me a call, I consult my network, and I come back with an answer. My network is also how I knew about your colleague's past, by the way. It won't solve a case for you directly, but I can point you to people you should talk to."

Beckett puts down the cup and crosses her arms. "You come into my precinct, charged with multiple crimes, and expect me to hire you?"

Her perfectly calm tone scares me a little, but I swallow my fear before forcing a smile onto my face.

"To 'hire' me would mean that you'll pay me. Which you won't, whether you accept my offer or not. Aside from the fact that the NYPD paying a minor for his services won't look good in public, I don't need it. Part of said inheritance was also a shitload of money, which allows me to live happily off the interest it's earning without having to work. Ever again. Truth is, I don't want to use my network for the forces of evil, which is what my predecessor did."

I don't even know the guy, if there ever was one, but yeah.

"Which is also why I haven't sold a single piece of information, even though the offers has been quite lucrative. Fortunately, I don't have to worry about money, so I would much rather put it to good use; and if I'm any good at judging characters, then I'm talking to the right person. You seem to be someone who became a cop to help victims get justice when nobody else does, which means our goals align."

Her eyes narrow at that. "Don't think you know me."

I hold up my hands. "I don't. Just… consider my offer. In exchange for my services, all charges are to be dropped, and as a bonus, I start by helping you catch this 'killer'."

She gives me a flat look and leaves the break room without another word. I'm a bit lost, but after a few seconds of standing around rather dumbly, I follow her, just in time to hear her call for the cop who brought me up here.

"LT! Bring the little one to the holding cells, I have an unpleasant call to make."

Said cop winces, seeming to know exactly what she means by that. Which I don't. But, I am to be brought to the holding cells like a common lowlife anyway, so it's not like I even have to care about that.

He grabs me firmly at the arm and maneuvers me in the direction of the holding cells.

"I'm not little! You're only one or two inches taller than me, the rest are those damn heels," I manage to yell over my shoulder before we turn the corner to the holding cells.

I could swear I hear Ryan snickering.

I'm only that much of an asshole is as a character :D A little fun fact on the side I found out while researching: Nathan Fillion is whopping twelve centimeters (about four inches I think) taller than Stana Katic. And you rarely notice that… that woman wears crazy high heels! Just saying.

As I'm not from the US and my knowledge of US law comes from tv shows, I don't claim any of the legal ongoings in my stories to be accurate. In case of doubt, it's artistic freedom ;)