Erm, yeah; the only note I have for this chapter (mainly the first part) just imagine the music from the original scene. Just do it.
Oh, and if it's not included or it's only brushed over, it's the same as the episode.
Enjoy!
X
"Mom, when can we go home?" Johanna queried, leaning forward and resting on her elbows, watching her mother finish making her coffee.
With an eye roll as she turned, Beckett leant forward to meet her daughter's blue eyes, "Do you ever stop complaining?"
A glint in her eye, a smirk on her face, Johanna fought back a chuckle as she shook her head, following Beckett out of the break room and into the bullpen. As if on cue, Castle himself came ambling down the corridor, his face lit like Times Square.
"Hey Castle," Johanna greeted with a small wave and a grin.
"Hey Jo," he said briefly before catching up to Beckett, tapping her on the arm, "Ask me why I'm here!"
Smirking, Beckett turned to him, "You know, I ask myself that question every day."
Letting her giggles escape, Johanna caught the sideways glare from her mother as she turned to take her seat, as well as the excitable grin from Castle as he too, sat. While there was no seat for Johanna, she settled for leaning comfortably in the crook between her mother's arm and her desk.
"That was Paula, my agent, with big news about my book, Heat Wave," Castle started, his excitement not deterred by Beckett's sideways glance of disapproval, "Wanna guess?"
"Guessing would imply caring," Beckett added, her sip from her mug interrupted by a nudge from Johanna, whose raised eyebrow expression moved quickly to one of eagerness as she beckoned for Castle to continue.
"The headlines in the trade might read, 'Castle bestseller to heat up big screen'," he said.
A gasp and grin exploded from Johanna, while her mother beside her held an expression of somewhat dread.
"Your book is being made into a movie?" Beckett questioned, almost disappointedly.
Castle's excitement seemed to take over his whole body as he sat up straight in his chair, "And you are about to immortalized on the silver screen!"
"That's so cool!" Johanna exclaimed
"Right!?" Castle agreed, meeting the young girl's high five before he turned back to Beckett.
"Actually," she interjected, "Nikki Heat is going to be immortalized, not me."
"Well, yes, technically," Castle began, "but it has been widely publicised that you are the inspiration, so, who would you like to play you in the movie?"
"Whoa, are you kidding?" Ryan exclaimed, appearing just in front of Beckett's desk with Esposito, "Are they really making a Nikki Heat movie?"
Castle's enthusiasm matched Ryan's excitement, as the two exchanged a very brief encouraging gesture, while Johanna raised an eyebrow at her mother, who was extremely focused on her papers on the desk.
"Dude, did I call it or what?" Ryan continued, as Esposito reached out from behind his partner for Castle to feed the birds.
As their conversation continued, Johanna had shifted from leaning on her mom to standing beside her, their varying expressions of bewilderment from Johanna and muted disapproval from Beckett going back and forth wordlessly. Interrupted by the ringing telephone, Beckett's final playful glare was met with the cheekiest of grins, as the young girl beside her turned back to the boys as she took the phone call.
"Beckett."
"Yes, I'd like to report a murder," came the voice on the other end of the line. Reaching for her pen, Kate sighed internally at the timing of the call; she had really wanted to go home soon.
"Do you have an address?" she asked, squaring off the pad in front of her, pen at the ready.
"Where's the fun in that?" the caller added coyly.
Dropping her pen, she clicked at Ryan, who looked up immediately from his conversation, moving to his own desk to trace the call. Esposito watched over Ryan, while Castle and Johanna had their eyes intently on Beckett.
"Okay," she replied, her focus now on the person on the other end of the phone, "who is this?"
"Oh, a fan," he replied menacingly, as all eyes in the room darted between Beckett and Ryan.
"Tell me more about this murder," Beckett began, watching Johanna's body and expression drop beside her, knowing she wouldn't be going home any time soon.
"Well, I did it," the voice chided, "and that's all you need to know."
With that, the line went dead.
"Hello?" Beckett called into the receiver, as Ryan quickly scrawled down an address beside her.
"Got it," he said, as Beckett replaced the phone and looked up, "42nd and Lex."
"That's Grand Central Station," Castle piped in, as the three detectives began to organize themselves to leave.
"I guess we're not going home any time soon then," Johanna sighed as she looked to Castle, who shook his head in an equally disappointed manner.
X
"Grandpa, has Mom called yet?" Johanna sighed, plonking her elbows on the bench top and her chin in her hands, her grandfather, Jim, opposite her drying coffee cups in the kitchen.
"Not yet, Jo," Jim said calmly, placing the now dry mug in the cupboard and turning back to the plates, "but you know, to take your mind off it, maybe you could come and help put away these dishes."
With yet another dejected sigh, the nine year old slid of the stool and plodded around the bench top, taking the saucer from Jim's hands and heading for the cabinet where it belonged.
"I hate it when she gets a case at night," Johanna groaned, "And tonight was supposed to be movies and popcorn."
"And now you're helping your grandpa do the dishes, you must be the luckiest girl in New York," Jim added with a chuckle, earning himself a glare from Johanna.
"I'm sure your mother won't be home too late," Jim reasoned, "and if she wasn't coming home at all, she would have called already."
"I know, Grandpa," Johanna mumbled, putting away the last of the dishes and turning back to Jim, "but it's, like, super late."
"She'll be home soon, kiddo," Jim reassured, walking toward his granddaughter and guiding her back to the living room.
Before they were able to reach the couch, Johanna gasped, hearing a key turn in the lock of the front door, and within nanoseconds, she was running toward the door.
Pulling the safety chain across, she quickly turned the handle and pulled it open, the grin on her face the first thing to greet her mother as she stepped across the threshold.
"Hey, Jo," Kate greeted, chuckling, as her little girl's arms were thrown around her waist, squeezing tight.
"Hey, Mom!" Johanna cried, "Did you catch the bad guy?"
"Not yet," Kate answered, detaching Johanna so she could close the door, but was stopped by Jim.
"Don't bother closing it, Katie," he said, standing up, "I think I'll be headed off now."
"Bye Grandpa!" Johanna said, walking very quickly toward him and allowing him to pull her into a warm hug, "Thanks for coming over."
"Anytime, kiddo," he murmured, watching as she wandered over onto the couch and collapsed into the cushions.
He continued toward the door, grabbing his coat and slinging it over his arm on the way, before he moved toward Kate, who was stood waiting at the door, a small smile on her lips.
"Thanks, Dad," she added quietly, as the two shared a very brief, one-armed hug.
"Make sure you get him, Katie," he said, before waving a final farewell to Johanna and heading toward the elevator.
After waiting until the metallic doors slid shut, Kate then carefully pushed the door closed, replaced the safety chain and locked it.
When she turned around, Johanna was curled up on the couch, her eyes closed, though Kate could tell she wasn't yet asleep. Kicking off her boots and pulling off her coat, she tiptoed over to the living room, and sat herself down just by the little girl's head.
"Tired, Miss Jo?" Kate murmured, leaning over onto one elbow, the thumb of her free hand gently pushing her daughter's hair back behind her ears.
Johanna's bright blue eyes popped open, and with a mischievous grin on her face she sprang up onto her feet.
"Never!" she exclaimed, watching as a smile spread over Kate's face before she dropped back down onto the couch.
"Good," Kate began, as she then stood up, heading over to the kitchen as she continued to speak, "because guess what we've got in our cupboard?"
"Not a whole lot?" Johanna queried sarcastically, giggling as her mother momentarily stuck her tongue out as she pulled open one of the higher cupboards.
"No," she replied, reaching in and pulling out a small, blue packet and turning back to Johanna, "Popcorn!"
"YES!" Johanna cried, jumping up off the couch and racing into the kitchen, tearing open one of the cupboards and clambering eagerly for the biggest bowl she could find.
Laughing as she went, Kate put the popcorn into the microwave, and set it off to cook, Johanna joining her as they both sat and watched as the bag expanded.
"Remember, whoever says it quickest and the most gets the first handful!" Johanna reminded, her eyes intent on the revolving paper bag.
"It's going to be me," Kate reassured, her mini me shaking her head.
"Nuh-uh, you're going down, Mama Bear," Johanna said defiantly, not daring tear her eyes away from the microwave.
"Big words for a little girl," Kate replied, her eyes too not moving.
"Small but fierce," Johanna exclaimed quietly.
Both green and blue eyes sat, waiting and watching the popcorn, the small, mediocre pops continuing and with only 10 seconds to go on the clock, they waited anxiously for the biggest pop to come.
"SNAP CRACKLE POP!"
"SNAP CRACKLE POP!"
"YES!" Johanna shouted, "I win!"
"Nah, that was totally me!"
"No Mom, you were too slow!"
"I don't think so!"
Giggling and wrestling to get the microwave oven open, they managed to get most of the popcorn into the bowl, the rest of it landing somewhere on the ground.
"See, Mom, those are your bits cos you lost!" Johanna chided, giggling as she grabbed the bowl and ran for the living room.
"You're going to be sorry, missy!" Kate cried, as she chased a squealing and giggling Johanna into the living room, catching her just in time to see her shoving a full handful of popcorn into her mouth.
"I wib!" Johanna mumbled through a full mouth.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kate said, taking her own handful of popcorn and popping each piece into her mouth individually.
As she attempted to chew her immense amount of popcorn, Kate got up and headed for the movie cabinet, crouching down and pulling it open.
"Okay, Jo, we have time for one movie, what's it going to be?" Kate asked, hearing the bowl be set down and feeling a body beside her.
"Umm…." Johanna murmured, "I think, The Princess Bride."
"Original," Kate replied, chuckling, as she reached in and pulled out the DVD, taking it from its case and putting it into the DVD player.
"Totally," Johanna said, as she jumped up and raced down the hall, "I'll get the blanket!"
X
The next morning, Beckett sighed as she arrived at the next crime scene. After she had dropped a complaining Johanna off at school, she had hoped she wouldn't face any more calls from the mystery murderer in the hope of catching him first, but her wishes had gone unnoticed.
The second crime scene was very much like the first; public location, four GSWs to the chest, all with a letter etched into the end, this one continuing the yet to be finished message. This fact did not sit easy with Kate, knowing that the incomplete message meant another murder was on the cards.
"I guess its official," Castle began, "our guy is a serial killer."
"I thought a serial killer would be like the Holy Grail for a crime novelist," Beckett added, as the two wandered toward the carousel entrance.
With a small shrug, Castle considered; normally a serial killing would mean excitement in his books; the motive, the means, the story…but there was something about this one that didn't sit well with him.
"I guess, it would be if it weren't for the Nikki Heat of it all," he murmured, "I feel a little responsible."
Turning on him, Beckett looked him straight in the eyes, "Really? Like, The Beatles are responsible for Charles Manson because of Helter Skelter? Or is it more like Jodie Foster's responsible for John Hinckley shooting Reagan?"
"If I hadn't created Nikki Heat –"
"He would still be killing," Beckett interjected, "he would just find another reason why."
Before their conversation could continue, Castle found himself side tracked by the mass of black SUVs that had just pulled up alongside the cars of the NYPD, his offhand gaze causing Beckett to turn also.
"Either a UFO just landed on the other side of the park…" Castle began.
"Or the FBI's here to claim jurisdiction over this case," Beckett finished with a sigh.
"Maybe they just want to ride on the carousel before the line gets too long," Castle added quietly, a comment which gained him yet another eye roll from Detective Beckett.
As they watched, a slew of agents, led by a redheaded woman calling orders, began to move toward the crime scene. Castle watched on in awe, while Beckett felt the dread of what was to come build up as they passed under the police tape and closer to her.
"Here it goes," she muttered, loud enough for Castle to hear, as the redheaded woman headed right for her.
"Nikki Heat, I presume," she greeted.
"It's Beckett," Kate corrected, "Detective Kate Beckett."
"Yeah, read all about you in Cosmo," she continued, before turning to Castle, "and you must be the celebrity writer tag-along, Richard Castle."
She looked once more between the two of them, before extending her hand to Beckett, "Special Agent Jordan Shaw –"
"Wait, wait, Jordan Shaw?" Castle began excitedly, "The same Jordan Shaw that broke the Hudson Valley strangler case in 1991?"
"I also play a mean game of Scrabble," she replied, unimpressed, while Beckett looked to Castle with an expression of equal distaste.
"Now that we all know each other, I'd like to see the body," Shaw said, starting to walk off but stopped by Beckett.
"Agent Shaw, my people have already secured the area," Beckett began, "CSU is on the scene and we are canvassing the park, so as happy as I am to see the cavalry, there's really not much left here for you to do."
"Detective," Shaw began sternly, "the gods in the marble halls have sent me here to catch a killer, which I will do with or without your help, okay?"
Beckett, though annoyed, mumbled a quiet approval.
"Now, can I see the body?"
Meanwhile, Castle was otherwise distracted, "That is so going in the movie – can you say that again, but start from 'marble halls'?"
Disregarding Castle's childishness, Beckett turned to follow Shaw, before the attention of both was caught by the calling figure at the carousel entrance.
"Agent Shaw!"
As Beckett and Shaw turned, they were met with a striking young brunette, taller than most women of her age, hair hanging over her shoulders and piercing eyes. While Shaw seemed happy to see the new addition, Beckett was unsure at this point how she felt.
"Agent Winters, I'm glad you could make it," Shaw exclaimed, reaching out a hand and shaking enthusiastically.
"Thank you for inviting me along," Winters replied, "sorry I wasn't here sooner, Agent Walker was having one of her crises."
"Well, we all know what Logan Walker's crises are like," Shaw added with a chuckle, before turning back to Beckett and Castle, "Detective Beckett, Mr Castle, this is Special Agent Abigail Winters."
"We've met," Beckett added curtly, extending her hand, "it's a pleasure to see you again."
"And you too, Detective," Winters replied, offering a nod of acknowledgement to Castle also, before turning back to Shaw, "so, what's the latest?"
"I'm yet to see the body," Shaw replied, looking expectantly toward Beckett, who turned abruptly toward the carousel, but was stopped by an approaching Esposito and Ryan, the latter holding a black purse.
"Unis pulled this from a trash bin," Ryan stated, "wallet's inside, vic's name is Michelle Lewis."
"According to her business card, she's a dog walker," Esposito chimed in.
Winters looked worriedly to Esposito, not knowing what would happen between them, but found that he was very determined to avoid her gaze.
"There's a print here," Beckett began, all eyes now on the purse, "and it's too big to be our victim's. Let's get it to the lab for –"
Her sentence was interrupted by Shaw's cell appearing over the purse, the camera snapping a picture before it was then whisked away. Shaw and Winters shared a momentary look of mutual approval, before Beckett brought their attention back.
"What are you doing?" she asked, giving her best attempt to not sound demanding.
"That print is already in the lab and being processed," Shaw explained, "no muss, no fuss, no black powder on your clothes."
"Wow, there's an app for that?" Castle exclaimed, his eyes darting from the print to Shaw's cell.
"That's why I joined the FBI Mr Castle," she explained, "for the toys. Really eager to see that body."
She gestured for Winters to follow her, the two walking off and beginning to quietly converse between themselves.
"Can I see that –"
Castle aimed to follow, but was stopped midway by Beckett's arm, her gaze not having left the direction she was facing through sheer frustration.
"Be a chance to check it later…" Castle murmured.
X
Back at the Precinct, Beckett stood by her desk, Castle beside her, as the FBI agents swarmed the bullpen, bringing in equipment in quick succession. Inside, Shaw and Winters were comparing notes and crime scene photos, uploading everything onto the computer of a fellow agent. Leaving her cell with Shaw, Winters headed out of the room, straight toward where Beckett and Castle stood. Beckett was slightly apprehensive to talk to her sister; the last time they had seen each other, was when their mother's murderer had just been killed, right here in the precinct.
"Hey," Winters greeted, stopping in front of the two and offering a small smile.
"Hey," Beckett replied curtly, her arms crossing as she leant back on her desk. Her eyes didn't leave the young FBI agent in front of her, who was now looking toward an apologetic Castle.
"So, uh, how you been?" Winters asked, "It's been a while."
"Yeah," Beckett answered, "Yeah it has."
Castle looked sideways at his partner, confused by her coldness toward her younger sister. Sure, the last time they worked a case together, things didn't turn out so swimmingly, but he didn't feel that warranted this sort of hostility.
"Well, uh," Winters continued awkwardly, "glad we get to work together again."
A taut smile was the last exchange between the pair, before Winters turned slowly around and headed back into the war room.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Castle turned on Beckett immediately, "Okay, what was that all about?"
"Castle, it's none of your business," Beckett spat, stepping past him on her way toward the FBI setup.
"I know but last time you and Abi talked it was –"
"Castle!" Beckett exclaimed, turning to him and holding up a hand, "Let it go."
For now, he remained silent, as he followed Beckett through the door into the bustling evidence room, knowing that the subject would inevitably come up again later.
"You're running partials too, right?" came Shaw's voice, as she conversed with associate Agent Avery, Beckett and Castle looking momentarily around the room before they were beside her.
"Through all databases," Avery replied, "the lab is getting us information as fast as we can follow up."
"I thought there was a backlog at the lab," Beckett intervened, remembering a frustrating instance the previous day where she was without identified prints.
"We have a federal fast pass, so we get to jump the line," Shaw explained, "Currently we're running 35 solid leads based on DNA prints, trace evidence found from both crime scenes and we're running it through the FBI data matrix. The matrix also looks for a connection between the victims in case the killer has a type, or a favourite hunting ground, or isn't killing randomly."
Castle, who had been playing excitably with the touch screen was now faced with headshots of the two victims, with a list of their connections and crossovers in daily life.
"Both Alex Peterman and Michelle Lewis belonged to the same Wessex gym but went to different locations," Castle began, "they're both members of MOMA…hmm, they both adopted their dogs from the same RSPCA."
While Castle was thoroughly impressed, Beckett stood further back, closer to Agent Winters, and looked on sceptically.
"Wow, sounds like it does your job for you," she taunted, a quiet smirk coming from the agent beside her.
"If only it were this easy," Winters added, "we'd have more psychos like this guy behind bars instead of on the streets."
Shaw turned and nodded in agreement as she continued.
"Besides, a machine can collate but it can't think," she said, "It takes a mind to hunt a mind. Take this guy; He calls the police to report his own crime, likes to kill in heavily populated areas and uses bullets as messages. Now, most of these stalker types can barely tie their own shoes, this one's different…smarter."
"You almost sound like you admire him," Beckett added.
"I admire him the way Robert Shaw admired the shark in Jaws," Shaw replied with a smirk, "the better I know him, the easier it will be to catch him."
"It's like when I'm writing…" Castle began, to which both Beckett and Winters rolled their eyes behind him, as he continued speaking to Shaw.
"Wooing the new girl, huh?" Winters whispered, "I thought you two were the great theorizing minds of this place?"
Beckett looked between the smartboard and Winters, unsure of what to say next, a few stuttering noises making themselves known before she could speak.
"We are, it's just –"
"Relax, Katie," Winters stopped her with a chuckle, "He just wants to play with the smartboard. Besides, we all know he only has eyes for you."
Before she could retort, two more agents came walking into the room carrying boxes filled with Heat Wave, leaving Castle chuckling on the far side of the room.
"Whoa, whoa, guys," he began, walking over as they set the boxes down, "not that I don't appreciate the royalties but, uh, why do you need 100 copies of Heat Wave?"
"If our killer is obsessed with Nikki Heat, then so are we," Shaw said, turning to the agent beside her, "Avery? Cliff Notes please."
Passing a few more books around the room, Avery then pulled a manila file from the desk and propped it open as he began to read.
"A real estate tycoon is killed; Detective Nikki Heat catches the case and investigates suspects who wanted the man dead. There's a trophy wife – of course – dangerous mobsters –"
"Excuse me," Castle interrupted, "it's a, it's a New York Times bestseller, I don't think there's a need to make it sound so dry. Thanks."
While Avery took a moment to raise an eyebrow at Castle, the three women alongside him shared a look of quick hilarity before the notes continued.
"Heat's life is complicated by a reporter named Jameson Rook, who's following her around for an article he's writing," he went on, "Heat and Rook verbally spar, and in Chapter Eleven, admit their attraction for one another and have sex…"
Beckett's eyes widened as she found every eye in the room now on her, except of course Agent Winters, who was looking down, chuckling under her breath.
"It's fiction," Beckett demanded, a comment which made everyone, particularly Winters and Castle, even more amused.
After an eyeroll, Avery continued once more, "In the end, when the killer's revealed, it turns out it's actually –"
"Oh!" Castle cried out, Avery looking to him extremely frustrated that he was interrupted yet again, "Spoiler alert."
"In deference to Mr Castle's artistic sensitivity, you can all read the book to find out the identity of the killer," Shaw ordered, giving a nod to a satisfied Castle.
"Thank you," he replied, before adding an afterthought of his own, "And, if you want me to sign those for you, just form a single file line right here."
Most eyes in the room rolled, while others simply looked at him, amused, as he sighed and looked away again at the lack of movement.
"Or not…"
A quiet beep caught the attention of most, as Avery began to click and type manically on the computer, Winters stepping forward along with Shaw.
"We got a hit," Avery began, "that pinky print of the second victim's purse belongs to a Donald Salt, two-time loser, on parole for a manslaughter conviction in 2005. They just matched it to the partial pinky print your team recovered from Grand Central."
"So he was at both crime scenes," Winters began, her arms crossed, eyes on the smartboard, Shaw having moved alongside Avery.
"And the purse puts him with our victim," Beckett added, looking to Winters, as the two shared a nod.
"Let's mount up!" Shaw ordered, as the team began bustling just as they were moments ago and heading out of the room.
X
It had been a somewhat successful pick up; the suspect was in the interrogation room with Shaw and Beckett, while Castle and Winters hung back in the viewing room.
Donald Salt had been relatively easy to find, the only problem being, he was missing his pinky finger. So far, he seemed just as cocky and arrogant as the murderer himself, though it was quite obvious as the conversation continued, that was not the killer.
Castle, while extremely entertained by Beckett and Shaw being in the interrogation room together, he found it was not his most exciting viewing. Instead, he took the opportunity to confront Winters about her seemingly hostile encounters with her older sister.
"So," he started, as the green eyes turned from the glass to him, arms still crossed, gaze still hard. He had to say, it was slightly terrifying.
"So what?" she answered, shrugging as she turned back. He was not as clever as he thought he was when it came to being nosy, not when he had a genuine, personal interest in what he was nosing about.
"How are you and Kate?" he asked carefully, wincing as a sharp sigh escaped Winters before she turned her whole body back to him.
"You know subtlety is an art, right?" she said, "An art that you totally don't have mastered."
"Well, if I ever claim to be anything, subtle isn't usually it," Castle replied.
Looking down at the floor, she took a moment to consider things. True, it hadn't exactly been smooth sailing with her sister since Dick Coonan had been killed, but that wasn't entirely the reason why she was uneasy at the 12th. She knew how close the Homicide unit was here, knew that things would have been shared, and somehow, she knew that it wasn't just from that last case; it was partly to do with Esposito as well.
"We're not bad," she started, sounding a lot less sure of herself than she expected, "but we're not exactly great either."
"Is it about Coonan?" he asked.
Winters gave a gentle shrug, "Not so much anymore. At least, I don't think so."
"Then what do you suppose it is?" Castle continued.
"I mean," Winters started, unfolding her arms and beginning to pace around the viewing room, "I suppose we did have opposing feelings to the whole Dick Coonan thing. I mean, I grew up thinking it was all him; he was the one who killed my mom, and even though I know differently know, I still feel relief that he's dead. Whereas, she has none of that, she needs him to tell her who it was, who really wanted her dead."
There was a pause, and she looked over to Castle, her arms half folded, half hugging herself as she went on, her voice quieter than moments ago.
"But I guess she just feels like that was the end in the wrong sense," she added, "and I feel like it's a good end. So, I guess that's where we're not seeing eye to eye."
Castle nodded slowly, knowing he could never really understand the severity behind the situation in the same way the two Becketts would. He could only really see what it was they allowed him to see, and in this case, it wasn't always a lot.
"But if it's not about Coonan," he continued, unable to let go of what she had said before, "What could it be?"
Biting her lip momentarily, she looked over at him, then past him into the bullpen, where she could see the other detectives at their desks, working. So far, she had not had many interactions with Esposito yet, but knew that once one surfaced, it would be incredibly uncomfortable.
"I don't know how much you know," Winters began, "about various…connections…between some of the detectives here and myself."
Confused, Castle turned to follow her gaze, both their eyes now resting on the conjoined desks of Detectives Ryan and Esposito.
"Oh, you and Esposito," he added lightly as he turned back to her, only to find she wasn't smiling along with him.
"I don't know how much anyone knows," she continued, "but I would presume he'd have mentioned something to Kate. It makes sense…"
"Wait," Castle began, his mind going into overdrive as he compared everything he could remember about Winters with everything he knew about Esposito, "this doesn't have anything to do with Cris who's really Cristiano but only because you like the Spanish version of the name?"
Of course, it would be Castle who would be the first to hit the nail on the head at a moment's notice.
"It has everything to do with Cris," she whispered, "and he didn't know, and I didn't think I'd ever see him again, I mean, come on, this is Manhattan, you hardly ever meet the same person twice without arranging it and then…my old life came back."
Fighting the urge to burst with excitement at the juiciest of twists since his own novels, Castle maintained his composure.
"And he found out," he started, more as a statement than a question, "and you're worried that he's said something to your sister and –"
"No, I don't care whether he's told her or not," she interjected, "I care that she thinks I would keep things from people, important things, like that fact that he is the father of my child!"
"Abi –"
"Thank you for this little heart to heart, Castle, but I'd like to get back to work now," she muttered, looking back to the interrogation room to find Shaw and Beckett walking out, whom she followed quickly.
X
I have a competition very soon, so won't have time to finish this right away (i.e., this week lol) so I will do it when I get back most likely.
Hope you enjoy, sorry for the massive gap between the last the chapter and this one.
Kayla x