Castle was still staring at the polar bear painting—vacillating between wondering why he had ever bought it in the first place and thinking it was the coolest thing ever. It always made him happy to look at it—right now though, it just made him depressed.
The half-filled bottle of his fourth beer was warm in his hand and he felt mildly drunk, enough to make him forget about her for a few seconds at least. He knew it would wear off soon though. He might have to move to harder stuff.
He knew he should turn on the TV or write or do something to distract himself, but he couldn't summon the energy. He had only gotten up once to go to the bathroom. When he had finished, he had just left his pants there on the floor, too dejected to even bother putting them back on. What did he need pants for anyway? Pants wouldn't bring her back.
He tried not to worry about her, about her being cold or hurting or hungry. He tried to imagine her warm in her bed, a cup of tea on her nightstand, maybe even reading one of his books, but then he stopped trying to imagine that because it made him mad that she would settle for his book when she could have the actual author. So now he was mad … and worried. It was a horrible combination.
Should he call her at least? It wasn't the same as going over there, which was probably too much. But a call—it showed concern, not obsession. And he really was worried about her …
But there was this small part of him that felt she should come back to him. After all, what had he really done? Sure, he had said some pretty stupid things, but nothing to warrant the veritable wrath she had unloosened upon him after talking with the Captain. He didn't order her off the case—Montgomery had.
This anger of hers—he didn't discount the depth of her anger or her reasons for feeling it, but it was unnecessary. Yes, she had been through some terrible things, but she had a partner now. However she saw him—as a friend, a partner, a lover, whatever—he was hers. She would never again walk alone. Be mad at the world, but not at him.
He let himself feel sorry for himself for a few minutes and then forced a lid on it. Feeling sorry for himself wouldn't change anything.
He tried to rally himself into doing something, but he was exhausted. He had done nothing but focus completely on her for the past six days straight—he was tired. Of course it had been work tending to her needs, but it was a labor of love. He felt raw now, like he had a really cute puppy in his house for a week and then had it cruelly taken away.
Oh great, Castle. Now she's a puppy?
He was such an idiot.
He looked at the painting again. Or maybe a baby polar bear? Actually, that was more like it. Baby polar bears were cute, but they would also tear your head off in a second. Yeah … that sounded more like Beckett.
And then he heard a knock.
No way.
He jumped off the couch quickly, banging his left knee into the glass coffee table and sloshing some of the beer out of its bottle. Cursing, he set it down and walked quickly over to the front door. He remembered his lack of pants and thought he should probably go back and put them on, but his excitement to get to the door and his lowered inhibitions won out.
He had no idea what was going to happen once he opened that door, but he didn't care. He was sure that if he could just get her inside again, everything would be okay.
He put on his best smile and swung open the door.
He was still smiling when the wet cloth covered his face and a strong arm held him still. It wasn't until he had collapsed and finally gone unconscious did that happy, hopeful smile leave his face.
Alan caught Castle and pulled him back inside, his legs dragging behind him. She followed them in and shut the door the door behind her.
He deposited Castle on the couch in a decent position and then backed up, waiting for his next order.
"You can leave us," she told him pulling off a long white glove.
"Shall I wait in the car, ma'am?" he inquired politely.
"No, just leave," she dismissed him.
He nodded at her, and abruptly left.
Esther couldn't believe it. She was here! In his apartment and he was laying on the couch in front of her, looking adorable in his button down shirt and underwear. Oh his underwear! Were those kissing kittens?
She steepled her fingers in front of her, rubbed her hands together, and allowed herself a smile. This had been a very expensive project—and had caused her to cross some lines she might not normally would've crossed—but it didn't matter now because she had what she wanted—him, alone, and Detective Beckett out of the picture.
After going back to lock the door, she returned to the living room. He was lying on the back of the couch, so she sat on the part that jutted out and watched him, waiting for him to come out of his fog.
Finally, he opened his eyes.
"Hello, Richard," she smiled.
"Kate?" he asked.
Esther frowned. Not a good way to start.
She moved closer to him and put her hand on his knee.
He jerked back from her touch.
"Who are you?" he demanded, but weakly. He tried to lift his head, but couldn't. What the hell was going on? He felt sick, drugged.
"I'm Esther," she greeted him, pleasantly. "We've met before, remember. I was here, for Martha's class."
"Where is Kate?" he replied.
"Kate is not here. She left. She isn't coming back," she said, firmly.
"She's coming back," he insisted, his head rolling from side to side on the cushion.
"No, she's not," Esther disagreed. "She's never coming back. I'm going to be with you now."
"You …"
"Yes, me, Richard. You don't need her."
"Yes, I do. I need her ... I …"
"No, you don't," Esther interrupted. She moved closer to him and once again put her hand on his knee. "I'm here for you," she whispered, seductively. "I want you. I want to make love to you. I want to live here with you. I want to be in your books. I want to take care of you. I want to love you."
"Kate?" he whispered, smiling now. He reached for her hand and held it. "I love you, too."
Ugh, she wanted to slap that dopey smile off his handsome face. But then she had an idea. Her plan was to ruin him for the detective and did it really matter if he knew the difference right now?
"Castle," she said sweetly. Hell, she knew exactly what Kate sounded like. If this is what it took, she could do it.
"Thanks for coming back over," he said, so gratefully and innocently, it made Esther want to kiss him and kill him at the same time.
"I missed you," she purred into his ear, settling in closer to him. He cuddled into her happily.
"I missed you. Don't leave again. I like it when you're here," he told her, his eyes still struggling to open.
Screw this, she thought. They could talk later. Right now, they needed to do something irreversible—something permanent.
She kicked off her shoes, hiked her dress up, and moved onto his lap.
"Wow," he smiled, dreamily. His hands started lightly rubbing the tops of her thighs.
"Is this what you want?"
"Yeah," he sighed.
And then she heard the knock.
Shit. This needed to be happening way faster. And why had she sent Alan home? That was so idiotic of her. She never once thought that Kate would come back over.
More knocking. Her musings ended immediately. She needed to focus on the task at hand. There was still time.
"Kiss me, Castle," she said in a husky voice, sinking down so their faces were close.
"You don't smell like cherries," he accused. When he started to stir under her, she grabbed his jaw and sought out his lips.
"No," he resisted, covering his face with his hands.
She ignored him and started moving faster, kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt. She was losing time.
"Castle?" a female voice called from the other side of the door.
"Kate," he murmured.
Jesus, they were ridiculous. She needed to speed this up.
Kate knocked on the door again. And again, there was no answer.
Was he asleep? Taking a shower?
She decided to knock louder. And then louder, until she was pounding on it.
There is no way he could sleep through this. No way.
"Something's wrong," she called out to the two uniforms. They pulled their guns and approached her swiftly.
"I think we need to kick it in," she surmised. She took a step backward.
And then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Let me do it, Detective," a deep, warm voice said behind her. Surprised, she stepped out of the way as one of the guys moved in front of her. She hadn't noticed how big he was—or how big the other one was. They were massive. He probably wouldn't have to really try to kick down the door, whereas she probably would have broken her leg. The Captain had selected these guys for a reason and she was grateful.
"Do it!" she ordered, her eyes focused directly on the door.
And he did.
The door swung open and the first thing they saw was a beautiful, sexy blonde woman with smudged pink lipstick sitting on top of a very relaxed Castle.
It had to be a blonde, didn't it?
She sighed, gestured for the men to clear the place and walked over to the couch, her gun trained on the woman's chest.
"Are we interrupting something?" Kate asked in a mocking, but steady voice. Shit. Did he really not have pants on?
The woman stared at Kate with hateful daggers in her eyes. "You don't love him like I do," she accused. "You haven't even slept with him. He's better off with me."
"Castle, what the hell?" Kate interrupted. "Are you drunk?"
"No," he whimpered, finally looking at her through heavy eyelids. "Well, I was kind of drunk and then … I … she … they … put this thing on my face," Castle went to put a hand over his face to demonstrate the chloroform, but misjudged the distance and ended up hitting himself. He frowned and then closed his eyes and yawned.
"You drugged him?" Kate asked her, incredulous. "Yeah, I haven't slept with him, but I don't drug him just to get on his lap either."
The woman's eyes narrowed on her. "You're a mean and hateful person, Kate Beckett. And I would know. I've heard everything—everything you have said to each other in the past three months, and you are a damaged, broken person who will never understand how amazing he is, how much he deserves. All you do is take from him and he just gives and gives. You've turned him into mess; I'm just here to clean it up. This whole thing happened because you're a selfish, clueless woman."
Ouch.
"We're all clear, Detective," she heard as the uniforms came back into the living room.
"Thank you," she nodded. "Can you please wait outside and give my Captain a call? I've got things in here."
"Sure thing," the door kicker-inner answered. "We'll knock when the Captain arrives."
Kate returned her gun to its sleeve and pulled the handcuffs from their holder.
"Get off of him," she ordered, moving closer to them.
"I won't," Esther refused.
"Don't make me get my gun out again. We both know this is over," Kate told her.
Esther's façade fell pretty quickly. She got off of Castle and stood up beside the couch. She pulled down her expensive dress and ran her hands over her hair, smoothing it down.
"Over here," Kate said, firmly, nodding toward the stairs. Esther didn't resist when Kate put the cuffs on her, locking her to the exposed silver railing of the steps. Esther just sat on the step in silence. She was still scheming in her head, but it was halfhearted. At least she could afford a good lawyer.
Kate walked back over to Castle and sat down beside him.
He reached for her hand and she squeezed back.
"I love you," he sighed, giving her such a huge goofy grin, she couldn't help but smile back. He was still pretty out of it and it really wasn't funny, but it still kind of was. She could probably say anything right now and he wouldn't remember …
"I love you, too, Castle," she whispered, surprising herself.
"Can we get in my bed?" he asked, her words obviously not registering.
"Hold on, cowboy!" she laughed at him. "We'll get there soon enough."
"So how exactly did she get your pants off again?" Esposito jested, chuckling along with Ryan. They had been grilling Castle for close to five minutes now.
"She didn't. I never put them back on," Castle grumbled. He felt less drugged now, but had a headache coming on.
"Why did you take them off in the first place, Castle?" Esposito pushed on.
"After the bathroom. I just didn't care," he explained.
"So, you go to the bathroom and just leave your pants on the floor? Who does that?" Ryan asked.
"And who buys boxers with kittens on them? Kittens that are kissing, Castle! Seriously, dude, who buys those? Did you have them custom made?" Esposito stuck his hand out toward Ryan, who high-fived him.
"They're old. Alexis picked them out. I haven't done laundry in a while …"
"And then overpowered by a woman who's what … five-foot-two? Beckett said she was giving you a lap dance, bro."
At hearing her name, she looked away from the Captain for a minute and glanced over at the boys by the couch. Poor Castle. This whole thing did look pretty weird.
"She wasn't giving me a lap dance. I thought she was Beckett …"
"Oh, so Beckett gives you lap dances now?" Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow toward Esposito, who was shaking his head.
"No, she doesn't … but I thought she might …"
"You thought she might start?" Esposito challenged him.
"I was drugged … come on guys, my head hurts …"
"Yeah, a teeny tiny stripper girl drugged you …" Ryan giggled.
"A crazy stripper at that," Esposito continued. "Beckett told us that she's been following you for months, listening in on your phone calls. We found a freaking recording device in your bedroom, bro!"
"I feel so violated," Castle moaned, rubbing his temples.
The boys tried to stifle their laughing.
"Can I have my pants now?" Castle asked, politely.
"No can do, bro. They're evidence …" Esposito informed him. Ryan almost fell off the chair he was in.
"Go get his pants, Espo," Beckett said, returning to the couch.
"But the kittens …" Ryan was laughing so hard now, he was crying. He was wiping tears from his eyes as they went into Castle's room. She gave them as mean a glare as she could manage while still smiling.
"Feeling better?" she asked, sitting down beside him.
"Headache," he complained, pulling the blanket more tightly around him.
"No sense in hiding from me now, Castle. I already have a favorite kitten—it's the black one," she teased him.
"Mine, too!" he said eagerly.
Seriously? She couldn't help it—she laughed out loud in his face and then covered her mouth guiltily. He frowned again and dropped his head back on the cushion.
"Worst. Night. Ever," he groaned.
"Didn't turn out so bad though," she said softly, reaching for his hand. She held it tightly between them and rested her head against his shoulder. The boys came back with the pants and she gestured toward the glass coffee table. They dropped them there and continued into the kitchen to talk with the Captain. Sure, they were smirking, but they didn't say anything more, thankfully.
"You came back," he whispered.
"You sound surprised."
"I was," he admitted.
"I was wrong to leave," she told him, sighing heavily. "It was … selfish. If I had stayed, the security would have stayed. I left you exposed … alone …"
"Yeah," he agreed softly, and they both knew she meant more than just the security. "You do that a lot …"
She nodded, not proud, but he was right. "I know. I always tell you to wait … or to stay by the car."
"I never do," he reminded her.
"No, you don't …" she said, trailing off.
"Kate?" he whispered, squeezing her hand.
"We do better when we're together, don't we?" she surmised.
"Finally," he sighed, dramatically. They both laughed softly. Kate shifted and moved her face closer to his neck.
"I'm sorry … for everything …" she added, kissing him briefly behind his ear. She didn't even care who saw.
"Kate, is my house technically a crime scene?" he asked her, sounding more like himself.
"No. They'll be out of here soon. After everything, this case is pretty open and shut, I'd say. Esther—that's her name, by the way, didn't know if you caught that …"
"I can't remember," he said, shaking his head.
"She's already copped to everything. It's pretty routine now—no crime scene tape or forensic evidence processing. It's over. Why?"
"I want everybody gone. I want you alone," he said for only her to hear.
"How do you know I'm not leaving, too?" she teased him.
"Oh, that's fine. I always have Esther as an option," he countered.
"Esther, my ass," she said, grumpily, standing up.
"Listen up, everyone," she announced, walking into the center of the room. "Let's get this wrapped up … now!"
