Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters used in this story. As for other influences, please see the author's note at the end of chapter two.
A/N: Down below.
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"It's from my dad," Castle whispers, still holding the note he pulled out of the envelope. "It says 'Your boat, Thursday night. Give Jonas the night off.'"
Beckett
"Hey babe," she says after they've stepped into the loft, unclipping her holster from her belt. "Will you please put this in the safe?"
You've been bugging me for ages about 'handling my weapon.' Enjoy the opportunity, Rick, I need a minute.
Still lost in thoughts about the disturbing letter he'd just opened, Castle mutely accepts Beckett's sidearm and starts to trudge towards his office, not even turning at the sounds from the stairs.
Alexis, acutely attuned to her father's moods and still a little nervous about his reactions after the death of Senator Bracken, slows her pace, timing her arrival so that she meets Beckett at the bottom of the stairs just as her father disappears into his office.
"Kate?" she asks nervously. "Is everything okay?"
"We just got some bad news," Beckett starts to explain when Alexis cuts in.
"The reporters downstairs?" she asks shyly. "I thought you'd be okay with that," she says as she lets her head fall.
Oh, Alexis. Life really has taught you to expect the worst from the women in your father's life, hasn't it?
"Hey," Beckett says gently, reaching out for Alexis' hand. "I'm right where I want to be and don't care who knows. I'm happy to be here. Our bad news is something different, something that put an end to what had been a wonderful day. Unexpected and bizarre, but still wonderful."
"So, what happened?" Alexis asks, still looking down, but at their linked hands rather than the floor.
With a frustrated sigh, Beckett's bothered that she has to repeat recent history. "Alexis, I hate to do this again, but can I talk with your dad about this, first? I don't want to steal him away or seem like I'm shutting you out, but we just found out as we entered the building. I want to work through this with Castle before he starts getting tied in knots about it."
"So it's about his dad," Alexis guesses. "And you're going to help him, right?"
"It's one of the reasons I'm here," Beckett agrees quietly. But not the most important reason, which you might actually be starting to believe.
"Maybe we can talk over dinner?" Alexis asks quietly, finally looking up into Beckett's eyes.
"I hope so," Beckett says optimistically, but careful not to overpromise. I'm not going to set myself up to disappoint you. "Your dad can be a little stubborn, but I promise I'll do whatever I can to get him to talk about this as soon as possible."
"'A little stubborn,"" Alexis quotes back with a quiet huff and shake of her head. Releasing Beckett's hand, she takes a step back. "I'll make dinner, you go talk with dad. Good luck."
"Thank you, Alexis," Beckett says earnestly, marveling again at the possibility of building a stronger relationship with the young woman. "Who knows? Maybe we'll be done in time to help."
Alexis looks doubtful as she heads to the kitchen, but there's something in her posture that makes Beckett think she's still hopeful. Spinning on her heel, she's anxious to spend time with Castle to figure out how they'll address this new disaster.
Entering the office provides a stark visual reminder of one potential way this conversation can go off the rails. It's not quite the disaster it was after Castle went off the deep end trying to become a master Gamma in a matter of days, but somehow it seems worse. The books are reshelved and the typewriter reassembled, but the painters haven't yet been in to address the scorch marks on the walls and ceiling. The floor is a mess, with the old, warped floorboards torn up but the radiant-heat system only half installed.
The melted metal sculpture, in particular, catches her attention. Rather than throw it out, Castle's taken to changing it regularly, often in ways designed to catch her attention. It's been a copy of roses he brought her, an impressionistic swirl, and even an (unfortunate) attempt at a globe. He seems to be staying away from any busts, but I'm sure he's practicing. Right now, though, it looks like a flash-frozen explosion, angry lines radiating out from a small central core. She's hoping that it's something she didn't notice this morning, rather than a recent adjustment.
A little surprised that Castle's not in the office, Beckett carefully tip-toes across the wrecked floor, figuring that he's changing clothes or maybe even taking a shower in an attempt to wash away the implications of his father's note.
My plan won't quite work in the shower, Beckett thinks, preparing herself for their conversation, but maybe a gentle, loving time to connect would be a better way to start?
But Castle isn't changing clothes or showering. He's sitting on the end of the bed, staring at note clamped in his hand but clearly looking past it, lost in thought.
Back to Plan A. Look at me, Castle, not that damned note.
"Despite how we spent our first few years together, I don't like fighting with you, Rick," Beckett starts, voice crisp and posture just a note below challenging, "especially now. So let's get this over with rather than avoiding the issue for the next five days."
Her abrupt introduction has certainly caught his attention. He's looking up at her, brow knit and mouth opening to reply. Beckett doesn't give him the chance.
"I'm going with you," she avows, brimming with determination and certainty. "We don't know what he has in mind for this meeting. You can't protect me – I'm at risk whether I'm there or not, and I can't help if I'm not there."
"Kate…," Castle tries to mollify, but Beckett's not having any of it.
"If he just wants to talk, I can go below, or up to the bridge. I won't eavesdrop or try to interfere with a private discussion between you and your father," she promises. "But I need to be there. You helped me with my dad, Rick," she says with heartrending candor, "now I need to help you with yours."
"I was…," Castle tries to interject, but Beckett knows all too well what happens when Castle starts working his (non-Gamma) magic with words and isn't going to let him derail this conversation before she's spoken her mind. No way, Castle. You might know me, but I know you, too. I'm not going to let you distract or delay with beautiful turns of phrase.
"I might not have figured out how to be a Gamma like you have," Beckett admits while Castle starts to look irritated, "but let's not forget who actually has training for meetings like this. And I'm not just talking about the weapon and hand-to-hand skills, which I know might not be much use with him, but I've built a damn fine reputation for undercover work and interrogations."
Castle's still looking at her, but instead of trying to speak, he's starting to show signs that she knows well after years of working together. Don't you even try to deflect this with humor. That'd be a good way to see an up-close reminder of that hand-to-hand training I mentioned.
"I'm serious, Castle. I'm going," she repeats fiercely. "Besides, you'll need me," Beckett rails, thinking of yet another argument in her favor. "We're going to tell our family what's going on and make proper preparations. You know Alexis won't let you go alone, so it's no good trying to slip away from me."
Mentioning their family seems to have foreclosed humor as a reaction, leaving Castle sitting on the bed, looking up at Beckett with an open stare. Beckett's appalled to realize that she's panting slightly, her passion for her arguments having ramped up more than expected. She tries to even out her breathing, lest her shortness of breath here in the bedroom give Castle some easy distracting comment with which he can try to slip away from this discussion.
Castle lets a few moments pass before he succeeds in speaking. "Anything else?" he asks quietly, waiting to see if he's going to be allowed his rebuttal.
Beckett has only one argument left, and she makes it quietly to emphasize its importance, to make them both lean in to recognize it. "You promised we'd do this together."
In response, Castle takes a deep breath. After dropping the note, Castle rubs his thighs as a way to release some pent-up energy and tension, then reaches out for Beckett's hand. Wary that he's trying to anchor her in place while he makes his case for going alone, she's still unwilling to deny them a physical link to each other. But you don't get to pull me onto the bed. That's for making up after a fight, not a distraction before.
"I've only got one thing to say, Kate," Castle starts quietly, looking at their hands before raising his eyes to meet hers.
Which means I'll only have to ignore you once, Rick.
"I need you with me," he says quietly but with as much passion as she'd shown in her own arguments.
"But, Rick," Beckett starts to object, before her brain catches up with her mouth. "Wait, what?"
There's no denying his smirk now, though his tone is still serious. "I could wish things were different, but we need to do this together," he says while giving her hand a squeeze. Beckett's trying to decide between pulling him up for a hug or knocking him back onto the bed when he proves his identity by failing to keep his mouth shut. "Mind you, the other stuff you said is complete nonsense, but you were right about that."
Way to ruin the moment, Rick.
A perched brow is enough to prompt an explanation from her partner. "First, I want you there even if my dad just wants to talk. There's no eavesdropping about it. He has a problem with that? Tough," Castle says roughly. "You're part of my life and I want you there."
"Anything else?" Beckett repeats his question while trying to contain a happy smile.
"Well, we're going to ignore your self-deprecating comments about your Gamma skills and look at the strategic potential instead, Ms. I-have-training-in-this-and-you-don't," Castle answers with a teasing tone and a perched brow of his own.
"Okay, Mr. I'm-a-writer-and-know-how-this-should-go," Beckett replies in kind. "What's the great strategic potential that I've overlooked?"
Beckett's confused by Castle's far-away look, until she remembers the conversation they had with their family to explain what happened with Bracken. Another cone of silence? You're really enjoying playing secret agent.
"Aside from our family, who've we told about Gamma abilities?" Castle asks, before answering his own question. "Just the boys, right?"
"That's it, aside from Jonas," Beckett agrees. "But Gates is thinking along these lines. I'm not sure if she's going to press for details or if she prefers to have some plausible deniability, but she knows something's going on after your daring rescue operation and Bracken's demise."
"Gates," Castle says with a sigh. "She might be a problem," he says, surprising Beckett. "We might have to think about her separately, but we're okay for now as long as she's focused on me."
"Okay for what?" Beckett asks with some exasperation, prompting another smile from Castle.
"Okay for you to be our secret weapon," he answers with a mischievous smile. At Beckett's blank look, he explains. "The boys, Jonas – they think all the Gamma stuff has been all me, right? They don't know that you're a Gamma, too."
I'm a secret weapon? A hidden gun isn't any good if it doesn't have bullets.
"It has been all you," Beckett answers with sad frustration, but Castle's already disagreeing.
"What about Cali?" Castle encourages. "You certainly did something there! So what if you're having some troubles? You haven't sunk any boats yet, so you're still ahead of me."
"What about the guy who came for Diane?" Beckett presses her case. "You did all the work there. Plus," she adds, thinking of something else, "the blue mist after you destroyed his nexus – the boys saw that go to me as well as you."
Beckett knows something's up from Castle's embarrassed reaction. What did you do? she thinks, giving him a piercing stare.
"They, ah…," Castle trails off. "They think that was a consequence of us spending time together," he says, looking sheepish. "I didn't say it!" he protests in response to her look. "Espo guessed that what was going on and I just didn't correct him."
Why is it that women are the ones accused of gossiping? You three are ridiculous. But even if they don't know about me, I'm still no secret weapon.
"Rick, you broke free to fight your dad. I sat there and tried to physically push myself free," she says with a tone of disgust. "I didn't even try any Gamma tricks. And what could I do? Make a ball of light? Slap his face? That's not going to cut it in a fight."
"How have you fought every battle since you became a cop, Kate?" Castle asks rhetorically. "Physically. Cut yourself some slack. You just need a little time to adjust."
"But we don't have any time!" Beckett growls in frustration. She looks highly annoyed at Castle's laugh.
"Look at us," Castle says, still chuckling. "How many hours ago were we just through that door, with me getting anxious about the lack of time and you as the calm voice of reason? We have the time we have," Castle says far more easily than he did last time they talked about this. "I trust you, Kate. I trust that you'll be able to do what you need to do when the time comes. It's that simple."
"You trust me too much," Beckett grouses, but she can't deny that his faith in her is starting to undermine what was looking to be a good breakdown.
"I trust you," he says simply. "We'll keep practicing, but I have no doubt that you'll be a kick-ass Gamma, too. And no one, including my father, has any idea about what you can do."
How am I supposed to defend against absolute faith? Awed anew by his unwavering belief in her, Beckett crawls into his lap, straddling him at the end of the bed. What was meant to be a recognition of his faith instead turns into a long string of kisses that succeeds all too well in distracting them from everything else.
"So," Castle pants as he pulls away just enough to take a heaving breath. "Does it count as a fight if we were both arguing the same point?"
"That's a good question," Beckett answers, trying to adopt a pensive look despite her flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. "I'm not sure, but I know how we can find out," she says as she dives for the buttons on Castle's shirt. "We'll have to see if this feels like make-up sex."
He must've Gamma'd me, Beckett thinks moments later, somehow gloriously naked in the blink of an eye. And from the disparate locations around the room her articles of clothing have landed, a tornado was almost certainly involved. But she produces some contradictory evidence almost immediately, divesting Castle of his clothing just as quickly and doing an even more impressive job of adorning the floor and nearby furniture with yet more clothing.
She's just pinned Castle to the bed when tentative knocking at the door has them looking at each other in alarm rather than besotted infatuation.
"Hold on a minute!" Castle calls out as Beckett dives for cover under the blankets. Castle's stretching to reach a shirt when he overbalances and tumbles to the floor, just as Alexis pushes the door open.
"Dad?" she calls out from the office. Finally remembering his options, Castle raises a hand and a pillow sails from the bed to land in his lap to provide some meager cover as he shouts out "Wait!"
"Kate?" Alexis asks as her head appears in the doorway. "Oh!" she cries out in alarm, whipping a hand up to cover her eyes and blushing enough that her face is redder than her hair.
"Alexis, just give us a moment," Beckett says while also blushing. But when Beckett's about to look down to hide behind her hair, she catches Alexis cocking her head, knitted brows barely visible over the cover of Alexis' hand.
"If you guys are talking, I can't hear you," Alexis says in confusion.
Oh, crap. The cone of silence. That's why she didn't wait.
"I was worried something happened," Alexis babbles in her discomfort. "I couldn't hear you guys talking, and you're usually… much louder when you're… trying to be quiet."
Oh, Sweet Jesus.
Turning to Castle, she sees him looking every bit as embarrassed and shocked as she feels. Not sure how else you're supposed to look while sitting cross-legged on the floor and wearing only a pillow and a hastily-donned dress shirt. Or when you find out that your private time hasn't been so private!
"Kate, Alexis, this is all my fault," Castle confesses while looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. "I forgot that I muted us. How embarrassing," he says. "I'm really, really sorry."
"I just came to make sure you were okay and tell you that dinner's ready when you are," Alexis says, head just barely visible through the doorframe and eyes still covered. But just as she's ready to depart, her expression changes even around the blinder of her hand.
Oh, there's a look I know all too well from your father. How frightening that it's hereditary.
"Don't let this little scene dissuade you, Dad," Alexis offers from the doorway. "Had I known it was a possibility, I would've requested the mute option for most of the other times you two have been in here."
Beckett assumes that Alexis hightailed it back to the kitchen after that parting shot, but she can't visually confirm with her face buried in her hands.
Castle
"Pier 32, please," Castle tells the cabbie as they climb inside and get situated in the back.
They're both tense, anxious about the safety of their family and nervous about the upcoming encounter. At least they have some experience at charging into dangerous situations together, and this is even a little better than usual since they've had several days to prepare.
"I'm glad Alexis is so enamored of your father," Castle offers softly, thinking about the tense evening that Jim, Martha, and Alexis have ahead of them.
And I'm glad you seem so willing to blend our family.
Beckett grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze before holding it tight. "Thanks for finding them such a good place, Rick," she says quietly. "It'll be a terrible wait for them, but at least they're safe and close to home."
Castle nods, thinking of the apartment he was able to sub-let from a friend. There's no record of the transaction, and the building has a number of entry points that are out of the public eye. Their blended family can at least wait in tense comfort. If tonight goes well, he or Beckett will call on a burner cell and give them the all clear to return home. But if they haven't been contacted by 7:00 AM tomorrow morning, they have much more elaborate directions about how to sneak out of the city and to a place of relative safety.
"With any luck, we'll see them soon," Castle says distractedly, head turned toward the window. Beckett, looking concerned about Castle, releases his hand in favor of his upper arm. After a quick kiss to his cheek, she rests her head on his shoulder. "Come here, Castle."
I can't imagine a time where a request like that won't capture my attention.
"Bet you never thought you'd need to encourage me to talk, did you?" Castle says with a small chuckle as he pulls Beckett into his side. "I'm sorry, my mind just keeps running off."
"No problem, babe," Beckett whispers into his neck, enjoying this last chance to connect before meeting his father. "I'm a little scattered right now, too. But focusing on what matters," she says as she gives him a tight squeeze, "helps me."
"Love you," he murmurs into her hair. They're the last words Castle speaks before they arrive at the Pier, but he shows his attentiveness to Beckett in other ways.
"Just think," Beckett says as she slides out of the cab, using Castle's outstretched hand to stand, "the last time I got out of a cab here was on our first night together. There's a memory to hold tightly tonight."
"You say that as if memories from that night aren't always on mind," Castle says with a small grin while reaching for her hand. "Shall I shuffle to the boat to help us on our trip down memory lane?"
"No, thank you," Beckett replies with an eye roll. "But maybe after our meeting, you could reenact your scene with the boxer-briefs and the handcuffs?"
"There's the incentive I need to get through this meeting!" he answers with quiet exuberance, managing to pull a smile from Beckett despite the dire circumstances of their visit.
"You ready to meet your dad?" Beckett asks as they start their walk toward Slip 47.
"As ready as I can be, I guess," Castle says quietly. "I can honestly say that in the thousands of scenarios I considered, none of them were close to this," he chuffs. "Thank you for being here with me."
"Of course, Rick," Beckett says while squeezing his hand. "No place I'd rather be."
No place other than meeting a homicidal magician in a remote location?
At Castle's look of disbelief, Beckett adjusts her vow. "Well, a beach in Bali might be preferred, as long as you were there. But we're going to do this first, then we'll think of fantasy destinations."
Sounds suspiciously like honeymoon planning.
"Deal," Castle answers quickly and happily. "Now come on, Secret Weapon, let's get to our meeting. Just remember – don't blow your cover unless it's life or death."
"We'll be fine, Castle," Beckett answers with an indulgent roll of her eyes. "I think he just wants to meet his son."
Beckett
As Slip 47 comes into view, they see that their guest has arrived before them and is sitting on the transom, legs dangling to obscure the name of the Tuggedly Handsome. While not dressed in black today, his denim pants, white shirt, brown leather jacket, and ball cap would serve him well as urban camouflage. A quick squint and hand signal from Castle reveals that their visitor has no weapons on his person, not that he'd need them.
The older man hops onto the dock upon their approach, standing with the grace and posture of someone who knows how to move quickly and effectively when necessary. From the quirk of his head, it looks like he knows he was just scanned.
"Hi," Castle says in a forced voice, a hard edge undergirding words that might look polite in writing. "I'm Rick Castle." With only a small flinch, he extends his hand toward the older man.
With a cocked brow, the older man extends his hand. "Jackson," he says in reply as they shake. He endures the quick glare of an orange light placidly, offering a quick indulgent smile. "Just checking," Castle says without apology.
Not that I'm sure many people would want to imitate you.
"This is my partner, Kate Beckett," Castle says with that same undercurrent of assertiveness bordering on aggressiveness.
"You armed, Kate?" Jackson asks with a lilt in his voice as he shakes her hand.
You're kidding, right? Not that it matters. So why are you asking? Trying to make it clear to your son that you're not checking me out?
"Usually," Beckett replies tersely, offering nothing else as a conversational gambit.
"We going to just talk here on the dock or can we actually go aboard?" Jackson asks in a voice that would usually sound playfully but in this tense atmosphere just seems out of place.
"Your meeting," Castle says with a shrug and a gesture towards the boat, "your preference. You just want to sit on the boat or should I take us out?"
"Let's get away from prying eyes," Jackson suggests.
You mean "witnesses"? Beckett thinks, while a quick look at Castle confirms that he's thinking the same thing.
"Besides," Jackson says drily, "you'll feel better out in the running water, right?"
How in the hell does he know about that?!
"God, this is tedious," Castle sighs as he uncleats the mooring lines. "I get it. You know my family. You know about my boat. And you know my strengths and weaknesses. Is that what this talk is about?" Castle asks, surprising both Jackson and Beckett with his candor. "Are you here just to make ominous references about how well you know me?" he asks as he moves to another cleat. "I'm also afraid of spiders. And hamsters, too. Anything else you'd like to know?"
"I'm not here for that, Richard," Jackson says calmly. Interesting that he goes for "Richard" even though Castle introduced himself as Rick. He sounds like Martha.
"I thought it would make sense for us to talk. But not here," Jackson continues with a nod upward towards the captain's chair. With an eye roll, Castle climbs the ladder, fires up the engine, and soon has them chugging out toward Governor's Island.
Fine, so you know about Castle's – our – element. But if the secret's already out, then there's no reason we can't play to that strength.
Apparently thinking the same thing, Castle pilots them toward the confluence of the East and Hudson Rivers while Beckett sets out some chairs on the deck so that they can handle whatever discussion Jackson wants to have with some small shred of comfort. It bothers her immensely that his smirk upon seeing her set out the third chair looks so much like Castle's. Beckett leaves him alone, instead opting to join Castle on the flying bridge. Jackson simply takes a chair and waits patiently.
Castle cuts the engines and extends the anchors about 15 minutes later. After preceding her down the ladder, he extends a supporting hand to Beckett and leads her to a chair before seating himself. While he's lowering himself into the chair, he casts her a look that she recognizes all too well.
Going to cause trouble already? What do you have planned, partner?
"So," Castle starts the conversation with a bang, "was Joseph yours, too, or just Jonas?"
What!? When did you figure this out?
Jackson doesn't try to deny Castle's accusation. Instead, he just shrugs and turns to Beckett. "He's not bad. I can see why you keep him around."
"He's better than you can imagine," Beckett replies tersely, trying to keep her temper in check.
"Maybe," Jackson allows, "though I think I've known his potential longer than you have."
*You're* going to give me trouble about how long it took for Castle and I to get together? Oh, hell no.
"Peeping at him through windows or passing him on the street hardly counts as knowing him," Beckett fires back, before flinching at the realization that not only is she dominating the conversation she'd volunteered to stay out of, she's not exactly easing the tension of the meeting.
Sorry, Rick, she thinks while giving him a quick look of apology. The phantom cheek rub she hadn't hoped to feel helps her ratchet down by a degree.
"I haven't been around much, that's true," Jackson answers, apparently unruffled, "which is probably the reason you're still alive," he says while turning his head to look at Castle. "Besides, I've been able to help now and again."
"The CIA?" Castle asks, receiving a nod. "The poker guys still can't believe I got in there. Over the years, I've started to understand how unlikely that arrangement should have been. When else?" Castle asks, unable to deny the siren's call of a connection to a father, despite whatever qualities that man might possess.
Be careful, Rick. Don't set yourself up for disappointment.
"Casino Royale at the Library," Jackson says quietly. With brows furrowed, Beckett turns to Castle for an explanation but is alarmed by the stunned look on his face. She reaches out to grasp his hand, using physicality rather than any Gamma tricks to remind him of her support. Restored by her touch, Castle looks up at Jackson and whispers "That was you?"
"I had no idea then what you'd go on to become," Jackson offers quietly. "I've enjoyed your books. Not sure how you managed to write when you were with Meredith," he says with some disgust, "but the Storm books were fantastic. I had my doubts about Nikki," he continues with extra gravity to his voice while cutting an assessing look at Beckett, "but I've been surprised so far."
Yeah, I get it. That's your second shot at me. We're well-versed in subtext, Jackson, and I'll give your opinion about how long it took for us to get here exactly as much weight as it deserves.
"And mother?" Castle asks tersely, seemingly having dropped into a shorthand with this man that he's known only briefly and under terrible circumstances.
"I helped when I could," Jackson replies, looking almost wistful. "Visiting was dangerous, both for my job and for the risk of leading others to you," he explains. "I came around less as you got older, especially when she moved on," he says while looking contemplative. "I looked after her as I could, but I was often on assignment, including when her husband ran off. You can let go of any thoughts of finding him, by the way," Jackson offers conversationally. "I didn't track him down until he'd spent everything he stole, but I can guarantee," he says with an almost feral look, "that no one will see him again."
How sweet. Bonding over the murder of Castle's step-father.
Castle looks bothered, but not by hearing of the demise of the con-man who treated Martha so poorly. "You should have said goodbye," Castle says quietly. "It hurt her, your disappearance. Raising me alone wasn't easy for her, especially after she finally gave up hope for your help."
"I couldn't," Jackson says quietly. "That would've just drawn a big target on both of you."
"Bullshit," Castle says roughly, firing up. Standing so that he can pace around the small confines of the deck, he spins on his father. "You're a fucking magician and you're going to sit there and tell me you couldn't conjure up a post-dated letter about how you're thinking of her before heading off on a dangerous assignment or something?" Castle rails.
I could try to calm you down, Rick, but I think you need to let this out. And I think he deserves to hear it.
"You took the coward's way out," he spits at his father. "You can try to salve your guilt by telling yourself that you helped where you could or looked in on occasion, but she didn't know any of that until we told her just recently. However many people you've killed, however many assignments you've completed or terrors you've faced – none of that changes the fact that you couldn't even write a Dear Jane letter to a young, frightened, ostracized actress."
"You're going to lecture me about mistakes?" Jackson answers in a low, dangerous voice. Beckett tenses in preparation for some kind of attack, but Castle's reaction is to laugh.
"What," Castle says around a chuckle, "you think I don't recognize my mistakes? Good Lord, man, everyone knows about my mistakes," he says while throwing his arms into the air to emphasize his point. "But show me one – just one – example of a mistake I haven't owned," Castle challenges. "It might take a while, and I might bumble on the way," he says while casting an apologetic glance at Beckett, "but I get there. So, yeah, dad, I'm going to lecture you about how you treated my mother."
"Well, then," Jackson says in low growl as he reaches into his pocket and both Castle and Beckett tense, "it's a good thing I don't need to stay here and listen to this shit." Pulling out his keys, he pushes a button on the fob. Somehow, I don't think he was unlocking a car door.
With that accomplished, Jackson returns his keys to his pocket and takes a moment to compose himself.
"I wanted to get to know you a bit," he says in a more neutral voice. "I wanted you to know that anything that happens after this isn't personal," he says with a light huff that makes them wonder if that desire has changed after Castle decided to have a go at him.
"The calm before the storm?" Castle asks with a hint of sarcasm as he lowers himself back into his chair.
"Probably," Jackson agrees with a nod. "I suspect we'll see each other soon under far less… cordial circumstances," he says with another huff.
"We've got Bracken's partner worried," Castle says with a grim, satisfied smile. "That's a start."
"Don't flatter yourself," Jackson dismisses. "You're actually going to die because of my mistake," he says simply, a statement of fact rather than an apology. "That, and friends who are just as stubborn as you are."
What do you mean, "friends"? Who else is at risk?!
"Who?" Castle asks, obviously sharing Beckett's concern.
"That jackass Sydney Perlmutter," Jackson growls, and Beckett's suddenly, inconveniently struck by the consternation shared by father and son. "He refused to classify Bracken as a suicide. There's no way that with the length of the belts and the distance involved that he could've generated enough force to snap his own neck. I did him the favor of making it quick," Jackson grouses, "and it bit me on the ass."
Castle looks like he's inordinately pleased that Perlmutter's annoyed someone else for a change. Don't smile too much, Rick – the consequence of the ME's report is that Bracken's partner sounds like he's going to clean house.
"And your Captain," Jackson says while turning to Beckett. "With Perlmutter's report in hand, she's refusing to close the case on Bracken. There's no active investigation, but the threat of it just hangs there with an open file. It's too reminiscent of your mother's case, so steps are going to be taken to manage the situation."
Another open file, another link back to mom. Where does it end?
Castle's about to retort when he cocks his head. Pausing herself, Beckett knows what's caught his attention – the sound of another boat approaching.
"So, we going to do this here and now?" Castle asks in a surprisingly calm voice. All things considered, though, he might be right – this might be the best chance for us. At the confluence, family tucked away, no innocent bystanders like there was in precinct.
"Don't be so anxious, son," Jackson says with a wry quirk of the lips. "Who knows? Maybe he'll think better of it," he says with a shrug, showing his apparent indifference to his assignment. "But I'll promise you this: you'll see me coming. I owe you that much. They don't know what you are," he says while looking at his son, "either by ability or relation. As long as we keep it that way, none of this should blow back to Alexis. Just make sure to tell her that when you disappear, she needs to leave it alone." These last three words seem to reverberate, and he's driven the point home by staring at Beckett during his delivery.
So, Bracken's curse can extend to the next generation? With Alexis cast in my role, the young girl obsessed with the murder of her parent?
The approaching boat is within 100 yards, its engine providing the only noise while Castle thinks about Jackson's promises. He's still lost in thought when the other boat pulls alongside the Tuggedly Handsome. It's a smaller craft, probably used for water-skiing or puttering about. It might be a welcome sight in that it signals the end of this meeting, but Beckett can do without seeing its captain.
"Hey, Princess," Jonas says with a wide, mocking grin. "See what I mean about you always putting him in danger?"
"Jonas," Jackson barks as he stands, something in his voice causing Jonas to snap to attention and shut his mouth. Castle and Beckett rise as well, unwilling to lose whatever small maneuvering room they have.
Nice to know that someone can control that deceitful jackass.
Jackson is approaching the side of the boat to vault onto his new ride when Castle reaches out and grabs his forearm. Jackson shifts into a stance that Beckett recognizes from her training, one from which he could easily flip Castle or grab Castle's hand for a twisting submission hold. But he perches on the edge of readiness, coiled to move but awaiting a signal from his son.
"Thank you," Castle says quietly. "Do what you have to do. But if you can leave Alexis out of it, or even our whole family… thank you."
Jackson looks at him oddly for a moment before looking down at where Castle's hand still rests on his forearm. He reaches out slowly, reaching to clasp hands with his son. At least that's how it appears until Jackson grabs Castle's hand and gives it a ferocious twist, producing an audible snap as a bone in Castle's wrist or arm yields under the pressure. Beckett's surging forward before she realizes she's moving. But, once again, she finds herself frozen in place.
Castle's on his knees, but he's looking at her, not his father. With the smallest shake of his head, he hopes that she'll refrain from trying anything.
A secret weapon's no good if it's never used!
"Not here and not today," Jackson growls. "But when it happens, you'd damned well better be more prepared than you were today. You'd better let go of this cloying sentimentality and be ready to fight."
His message delivered, Jackson jumps onto Jonas's boat, which surges forward as soon as his feet touch the deck. Beckett's still held in place as the small craft speeds away, watching her opponents fade into the distance. Jackson's near the front of the boat, making a point of not looking back. No, that's left to Jonas, who can't resist blowing kisses or offering a cheery goodbye wave.
"Come on, Beckett," Castle grunts, surprising her. He's already on his feet, holding his wounded arm to his side while he opens the locker and extracts the towline with his other, preparing for a quick restorative swim. "We've got some planning to do."
A/N2: There's the counterbalance to last week's lighter chapter. Good times ahead!