Close Encounters 19


Kate was in the front seat of the small, European car with Hunt who was driving, leaving Castle and Walker in the back. Castle was checking their weapons - what they had left - and listening to Walker explain something about the tablet. Kate gripped the door handle as they screamed around a corner too fast, but she couldn't keep from falling into Hunt.

His hand on the gear shift came up quickly to grab for her, and Kate stiffened, an angry retort dying in her mouth. But his fingers, as they gentled, brushed unmistakably against her breast on their withdrawal.

She stared at him.

"Seat belt," he said, his voice a little rough, a little low. Dangerous.

Kate shifted away from him, glancing over her shoulder to look at Castle. She'd quelled her own indignation at the way Hunt had touched her because Castle already was so pissed, so mistrustful, but he was doing something to the tablet and not paying attention to them.

So Kate snagged the seat belt and looped it around her knee rather than her waist, the dress making it awkward, her hands shaking for some reason. The cross-body strap still dug into her breasts, but at least the lap belt wouldn't cut into her stomach.

She didn't know if that mattered or not, but she wasn't taking chances if Hunt crashed them. The DC roads were well-marked and laid out in a nice pattern, making it easy for a car chase. But no one had followed him off the property, no one had even seemed to know they'd been there.

She was suddenly so damn grateful that Castle had bid for that painting under an alias. She'd been ticked at him for messing around, thinking he was making things more complicated for them, but he'd been right.

Never leave a trace behind.

At least now it looked like the distinguished Mr. Thomas Crown had struck again - only this time he'd stolen a man from custody rather than a priceless work of art. She would laugh if she wasn't sure it would sound a little hysterical.

"It was an accident. You were falling," Hunt said quietly.

Kate shot him a swift look. "Don't."

"It didn't mean anything-"

"Does it look like I even care?" she hissed. She did though, something... he had been the one to make her look like a fool in London. She'd been frustrated with Castle's bullying and his damn rules and she'd pickpocketed a dignitary for his wallet just to show Castle up.

And nearly caused an international incident.

Hunt was stone-faced beside her. She glanced back and saw Castle had shouldered his way forward, his gaze glancing between them. Kate lifted her hand and he immediately caught it, squeezing her fingers.

"You can let us out up here," Castle said.

"Don't be stupid. You need-"

"You can fucking let us out or I will shoot you."

"The car will crash. Your wife is pregnant. Don't be moronic."

"She has a seat belt on," Castle said calmly. He let go of her hand and brought his gun up between the seats. "Pull over."

They were maybe ten miles from the embassy. Kate wasn't sure that was exactly smart, but she wasn't willing to keep going with Hunt either.

His appearance here all from London seemed ill-timed. Had he already been in DC when he got the call from Black? Or had he known what was going down that far ahead of them?

Hunt sighed and glanced to her as if she would talk sense into Castle.

But her husband wasn't bluffing. He'd shoot Hunt somewhere non-vital because the man had saved their lives and he'd leave Hunt here. She didn't think that was smart at all - he was a witness to their activity tonight - but she wasn't going to argue.

"Pull over, Ethan," she said softly.

He growled and jerked the car towards the curb, thumping the steering wheel hard with his flat palm. "You're making a huge mistake."

"You're in league with a man who has tried numerous times to murder my wife," Castle said. "This isn't a mistake - it's protecting what matters most to me."

The car came to a crunching stop, the front bumper scraping the curb, and Kate released her seatbelt and opened the door before Hunt could try anything. Castle hustled Walker out ahead of him and slapped the top of the car.

"Go. Get out of here. Back to wherever you were summoned from."

Hunt called through the passenger door even as Castle shut it. "Can't you just listen-"

"You've done your job. Stop protesting." Castle turned back to them and nodded, and Kate and Walker headed for the alley between the two office buildings, passing a couple dumpsters crammed into the narrow space.

Hunt didn't try to follow, and finally they heard the sound of the car pulling away, the front bumper crunching as it released the curb.

Walker stumbled and Castle caught him.

"Hey, you okay?" Kate said, glancing at Castle with a look.

Walker waved them off and eased upright. "Old football injury. My knee gives. I won't slow you down though. I can walk through it."

"You're fine, Walker," Castle said quietly. "We're just old friends out for a stroll."

"Without shoes," Walker said, glancing down.

"Ah," Castle murmured.

"Rick Castle," Kate growled. His eyes snapped to hers and he grinned, a slow and delicious thing that made her skin tingle with awareness.

"Yeah, bad habit, baby." He reached out and took her wrist in his fingers, almost delicately. "Never again."

She blinked, surprised by the emotion behind his voice. It had become a joke with him, her getting frustrated with his non-response answer of ah, and she'd only been trying to lighten his mood.

But he brushed a kissed to her cheek. "Love you."

She caught a breath and smiled back at him. "Love you too."

"I hate to interrupt," Walker said, clearing his throat. "But it's nearly midnight and stores are closed. And neither of you are wearing shoes."


Castle held her hand as they walked in their formal wear down the sidewalk, shoeless. DC was probably the only city in the country they could do that safely; it was so clean here, especially near the Capitol, that he hardly even noticed his bare feet.

"You okay?" he heard her murmur to Walker. The man still had the tablet in his hands for safe-keeping, but his knee didn't seem to be bothering him too badly. Or he wasn't letting them know.

"We'll head to the DC safehouse, see if we can't meet up with Mitchell and Threkeld."

"Did they text you back?" she asked him.

"I got a text saying they'd arrived cleanly, but nothing from Espo. As soon as we get there, I'll go back out for him."

Kate didn't say anything to that, though he could read her hesitation. She wouldn't leave Esposito behind - he knew that - but she wanted to be the one to go out after him.

But she couldn't. No way.

"Can we ride the metro?" Walker asked finally. "I'm not sure how much farther I can walk. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. There's a stop just past the Capitol. Maybe two more blocks. You okay to do that?"

"Yes." Walker nodded as if to convince himself, but even in the darkness, Castle could see the man was enjoying it. The thrill.

He knew the feeling. He glanced over at his pregnant wife to check in with her and she merely shook her head softly, smiling at him. He had no doubt she was good to go; she always was.

Her fingers tightened around his and he remembered the look on her face when Hunt had said it didn't mean anything. Whatever it had meant, whatever it was they'd been talking about, it was nothing compared to this, and he wasn't worried.

He never had to worry about her. He might hate Ethan Hunt all the more, but his wife was steady. She had his back.

"Partners," she murmured to him.

He used the cover of darkness to steal a soft, thankful kiss.


When they got to the safehouse, Esposito was at the front door to greet them, an automatic rifle in one hand and his kevlar strapped on. He looked ready to make war; he looked ready to take on a whole damn embassy alone.

Despite Castle's direct order.

Castle pulled back a fist and landed a solid punch. Espo staggered and Kate jerked forward, but Castle crowded her out, dragging Espo out of the hall.

"I told you to fly back to New York," Castle snarled.

"You made the rendezvous," Espo answered, glancing past him to Beckett. "Beckett, I was-"

"Disobeying a direct order," Castle growled. He angled the man back into the living room and shook him by the bulletproof vest. "Agent Esposito."

"Fuck off. She's my boss. Not you. I told you that going in to this thing. She's my partner and I won't leave her behind."

"You gave her a gun and let her come back into the embassy because she's your boss," Castle said, shoving on him again. Espo wasn't even trying to break free. The gun in his hand was nothing. He knew what he'd done.

"She would have gone with or without me," Espo said hollowly. It was echoed in his eyes. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You fucking stop her," Castle growled, getting in close. "You stop her because I depend on you to make better choices than that. I depend on you-"

"Stop. Stop it," Kate shouted. She was shoving on him now, breaking him off of Esposito. "What the hell, Castle?"

"I gave him orders. I told him not to allow you back inside the security zone, and especially not fucking alone. He disobeyed. I also told him to fly the fuck home, didn't I, Javier?"

Esposito ignored him.

Mitchell was getting into it now, grabbing Espo by the arm and leading him away. But Castle wasn't done; this wasn't over. He'd-

"No."

He jerked his gaze back to Kate and she was standing to one side. Not in front of him, not blocking him, but at his side. "Kate."

"No. You're mad at me, be mad at me. If you can't bring yourself to discipline me, then you sure as hell aren't taking it out on Espo."

Suddenly they were completely alone in the living room; everyone had melted away.

"Are you?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Like that, the pregnancy was almost unnoticeable, hidden by shadows. But he knew.

"Am I what," he rasped, his heart still thundering.

"Punishing me." She stared him straight in the eye. "You gonna hit me, Castle?"

"Kate."

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then don't punch anyone else. It was my decision."

She didn't say it had been the right one, and he was glad for that at least. Hell. "I'm pissed off."

"I couldn't tell," she deadpanned.

He gave a gruff, involuntary laugh and Kate walked towards him, arms loosening now to slide around his waist. He clutched the back of her neck. "I'm not sorry."

"Yes, you are," she murmured, bringing her hips against his. It was a strange fit; he could feel the baby there, cradled between them.

"No, I'm not."

"You'll apologize to him later," she said quietly.

He finally looked in her eyes, still angry, still wishing he could just - he really had the urge to tear something apart, but she was waiting on him to be better than that. To be the man she deserved.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Well, you're getting there," she chuckled. She shifted against his side and drew her hand down his arm, found his fingers. She played there a moment and then she pressed his palm to her stomach, the lace of the dress catching his skin. "Can you feel him?"

He caught his breath and waited, straining for it. "No," he sighed.

"I can," she murmured. "Though he's settling down now. Just when you got angry."

"Oh."

Her fingers came over his and trailed his touch up and down. "And when you were in trouble," she whispered. "When we were in trouble, I could feel him."

"You said like - tickling?"

"Popping bubbles. One at a time," she said. She was smiling now, sharing it with him, and he framed her hips with his hands and then embraced her, unable to hold it back.

"I don't want to punish you," he rasped at her cheek. "I just want - I want you."

"I'm here."


The CIA Director escorted them home to New York personally on his private jet. He'd been in DC for a meeting on the Hill anyway, and he'd taken offense that a US doctor and scientist had been snatched by some murky international organization with ties to the Austrian Embassy.

Threkeld slept.

Castle wouldn't let the Director wake him; they weren't sure what had been done to the man. Kate had reminded him that if sleep could come, then let the doctor have it. It might not for a while.

She and Castle sat on the floor outside the Director's on-board bunk, separated from Threkeld's sleeping form by only the closed door. Mitchell and Esposito were up front selectively debriefing the Director, but despite Castle trying to get her to sit in one of the plush, contoured seats with a seatbelt, she wasn't going anywhere.

"I want him to see our faces when he wakes," she told him finally. "So stop trying to make me leave."

He sighed but his body slumped into hers, slouching so that their shoulders touched and his cheek came to the top of her shoulder. She held him up, chuckling, and he stretched his legs out in front of him as the plane bumped through a little turbulence.

They'd quietly compared notes back in the safehouse, filling each other in on the circumstances of each decision, letting the stories comfort, the words ease them both. It wasn't that he didn't trust her judgment, and it wasn't that she didn't think he could handle himself, it was about making it out of there with everyone alive.

They'd managed that, at least. Even if Wilson and the Collective had gotten what they'd needed from Threkeld. They still didn't know.

"I think we did it," he said. His fingers trailed over the top of her thigh idly. "Didn't we?"

"We got him back," she said hesitantly.

"If he'd have... if the Collective had gotten my identity from him, we'd have known."

"But we showed up as the Rodgers, not the Castles," she reminded him. "There is no record of Richard Castle. He's a spy. They might still know they're looking for a man. A former soldier."

"Would it really have been such a long shot - Rick Rodgers to Rick Castle? I showed up right under Wilson's nose and he didn't catch on?"

"With my rather infamous reputation," she countered, "I bet he wouldn't have even thought twice."

"I don't know." Castle shifted so that now he was sitting up, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him, switching their roles, comforted to comforter. "The Collective thinks they're looking for a serum, a set of blueprints to build the perfect soldier - like the directions in a Legos set."

She snorted. "You don't know what Legos even are."

"I do too," he huffed back, squeezing her shoulders. His chin dropped to the top of her head. "I was looking for some for James."

She turned her face into his sweat-stained tuxedo shirt, closing her eyes. "You were."

"And GI Joes. I always - I used to have one. Back when they were bigger, like the size of a-"

"Doll?" she murmured, lifting her head to smile at him.

"Action figure," he said, narrowing his eyes. "A real action figure."

"Uh-huh." She laughed at the way his temper sparked; how easy it was to get him. "You had a GI Joe?"

"Martha - my mother bought it for me for Christmas. When I was four. It was a really big deal; I had it with me all the time."

"What happened to it?" she murmured.

"Toys were for children. Babies," he said, clearing his throat. "James should be able to play with toys as long as can. For as long as we can possibly-"

"He will," she soothed, taking his hand. "He'll invent his own toys; kids do that. He'll make up wild stories and go on expeditions through the woods behind the cabin. He'll probably dress Sasha up or try to ride her-"

Castle laughed and the sound rumbled out of him, relief and happiness both, the reverberations echoed by the movement of the plane.

"He'll play," she said finally. "He'll be just fine."

But she knew that she couldn't simply will it to be true. A large part of whether or not James was going to be fine rested on the continued silence of the man asleep at their backs.

If Threkeld had talked, though.


"Biological weapons," Threkeld said. He didn't even bat an eye, didn't even look over at Castle to confirm that this was the story he was supposed to be telling. He just knew; he was with it enough for that.

The Director frowned and sat back. "The strain that nearly took Agent Castle from us."

"Yes," Threkeld answered. He was sitting stiffly in the seat, and whatever tell he had for lying was swamped by the definite pain he was in.

"That's enough," Kate said, standing up. The Director gave her a cool look for interrupting his debrief, but he didn't challenge her.

Shit. Only Beckett could get away with that.

Kate helped Threkeld to his feet but the man was struggling to go it alone. "Your wife is right outside," Kate told him, heading towards the door.

They'd brought everyone back to the Office; they weren't sure what to do with their lab team now that the Collective knew about Threkeld. They couldn't go back to their old lives, that was for sure, but they also didn't know how secure Stone Farm might be.

Castle was all for having the team closer. There were a lot of decisions to be made.

For now the Director seemed mollified, if somewhat suspicious. Castle had given him the name of the Collective, and Mr Wilson, because they were an actual terror threat, but he had held back the connection to his father's work.

That could never go on the record. And as such, they were now keeping secrets from the Director - just as Black had done.

Castle knew it was bad; he knew he was feeding into the same cycle his father had created. But he didn't know how to stop it. There were no other options.

The Collective had eyes and ears across the world, and they'd gotten to Threkeld, so it was only a matter of time. No one could know that Castle was the living embodiment of the project they hunted.

Because he had a family to protect. A son who would need him, might need more from the regimen than they even knew.

And Kate.

Kate was everything. And he was hers. If the Collective got hold of him, it was over. If the Collective knew... but Threkeld hadn't revealed their secret.

Oh, he had talked alright. He had talked. There wasn't a whole lot that could prevent a civilian from wanting that kind of anguish to end. But the questions had been about reproduction of the regimen, and their knowledge was thankfully incomplete; there was still some mystery to the reason why it worked at all, and the Collective had asked about animal trials.

Threkeld had talked about the rats.

Which didn't make Castle feel great about his wife taking those pills, but it did mean that the Collective didn't know there was a living man made from their program.

He and Kate would just have to keep it that way.

This was their new mission. The mission of their lives.


The End of Close Encounters 19: Thunderball

Stay Tuned for Close Encounters 20: Happy and Glorious (it IS a James Bond film, I swear)

for a full listing of my fanfic, check out my super cool library tumblr (made by jyleafer15) at writingwell dot tumblr dot com slash library