For fear of appearing indelicate, but with a pompous, dignified look, Castle was going over the sophisticated greeting phrases in his head, while he was pulling on his blazer, and then the lady turned to face him: she was holding a mug of coffee in her hands. A fleeting but intense stare, the elusive squint of her hazel-green eyes, and a coldly nonchalant expression on her face: they stared at each other for a moment, then the lady lowered her head and held the mug to her lips, blowing off the transparent vapor smoked over the coffee.
- What, mister? - she took a careless, hurried sip, and burned herself: it made her shiver so visibly. - Is there a problem?
- Y-yes... - Castle suddenly felt the floor slipping out from under him, and her features merge into a flesh-colored blur. - I-I just don't... understand how this... unearthly technology... And the universe... is no help to me...
- The universe?! Then you don't know the word "budget". That's too bad. Welcome to our real, adult world, sir. Anything else?
- N-no.
And she left the room, carefully holding the mug in her small, dainty hands, and Rick, ruffling his bangs unnecessarily, looked around desperately, not knowing where to put his ass, leaned back against the partition. He stared dumbly at the floor in front of him for some time, and his heart was already frantically pumping blood, short of breath, and his mind refused to believe it.
"No! It can't be! - Castle nervously covered himself with his palms and began rubbing his face with an effort. - This is unbelievable! It can't be like this! It can't be a coincidence! No! No!"
Swallowing heavily, Rick stepped awkwardly on his waning legs, and his hand went to his collar, unbuttoning one button at a time. And how could he not fall into a stupor, for there stood before him a moment ago... Evelyn! Yes, the mysterious "Evie", from his past life, who had caught him by everything: her independent appearance and the ability of original expression, her sense of humor and specific habits, the recognizable smell of perfume and the sophistication, plasticity of caresses. Yes, the date was brief and anonymous, but he could not forget it, regretting that he could not open up and tell everything about himself without concealment. And his temporary partner couldn't either, because she was just playing, her brief and secretive role, but they were, were wonderful together, and no one knows about it. And no one will know, because Rogers always keeps his word...
- Sir, are you unwell? You look strange!
Castle looked up and put his left hand in his pocket: there was a stout-looking Latino man standing in front of him, taking a slow sip from his cup.
- T... tolerable... S... now... ...will be... Allow me to introduce myself. I... Richard Castle... Writer.
- Oh, is that you the captain was talking about? Detective Javier Esposito," and the officer nodded. - So do you need a doctor or not?
- I'm not sick enough to have syringes shoved in me, but I apologize for my unbecoming appearance. I've been doing that a lot lately. After being held hostage. There was an assault. Just the other day.
- Oh, that was you? - Javier moved the mug to his left hand and eagerly held it out to Castle with his right. - I hear you're no shy, either. You've been good.
Rick tried to straighten his shoulders, but he still felt devastated and inferior. And believing in the deceived, unfulfilled hopes he'd had. Probably the only thing that would have saved him from a total fiasco would have been coffee and a chance to put everything in its place, but the chance factor was so unpredictable...
- ...I was just so scared that I didn't have any other emotion," and Rick made a pathetic, painful grimace.
- That's normal," Esposito nodded. - Even after a business trip to the desert, I get scared sometimes, too. But I don't show it. It's important to cope with yourself, to get over yourself, and then the tone of life will rise.
- I've experienced something like that, too, which is why I'm here," Castle seemed to be regaining his composure. - I'm looking for a story and, shall we say, partners. And if we can find a common ground, everyone wins. I'll give you an entertaining narrative, and you'll give me some of the subtleties of the craft and some of the recognition. You'll have something to show off to your friends...
- I don't know about you, but we, men or women, are used to taking risks. It's what we do. And we don't take risks for glory. The safety of the city is more important. And in fact, we're all ready to tell you about it, now that you're here...
Suddenly it dawned on Castle that his face was alive with color, dimples in his cheeks, wrinkles in the corners of his eyes - Rick was feeling his way.
- Tell me, Officer Esposito, who was that girl who came in front of you? She had that stern, unapproachable look...
Having finished his coffee, Esposito returned the empty mug to the table and for some reason looked out into the common room.
- You can call me "Xavi". And what girl are you talking about? We have plenty of them!
- She has brown hair and seems to love coffee (she drank it so greedily!) Green and brown eyes, a light cotton sweater and black jeans. She also wears cherry scented perfume. I feel like I'm in a supermarket with fruit...
- Hmm... - Javi raised his eyebrows strangely, and his face took on a thoughtful expression. - Already noticed? You've got a lot of grip. Beckett has just returned from the trip, but if you think to make a move on her not for work, you, sir, waiting for a severe bummer. First of all, she hardly ever smiles, and jokes won't get her going. Secondly, she has practically no private life. She's always at the station. Thirdly, she doesn't trust public men with dubious reputations at all, and it's hard to imagine they'll tell you anything personal. And once again, get yourself some material, ask the right questions, but stay out of her way. Right, Kev?
The blue-eyed brown-haired man who'd sent Castle here the other day stepped across the threshold, but there was no answer. The other cop nodded and stalked over to the coffeemaker, grabbing a cup. Trying not to spill boiling water from the spout, he muttered something to himself. Probably scolded the obsolete, broken equipment, while the other two patiently watched. At last the stubborn device was defeated, allowing the blue-eyed man with the cup in his hand to join in the conversation.
- What was it about? - he asked softly, stirring the cup with his spoon. - By the way, I'm Kevin Ryan.
- I'm Richard Castle, the writer," and Rick made an understandable hand gesture, then bowed. - Here, I've come to look through your lockers for a story.
- How much have you found? - Kevin was slowly sipping his coffee, but he knew from the officer's fleeting crooked grimace that the cops had nothing but gruel. And he took note...
- Uh... I'm just getting started, but there's already a question...
- He accidentally crossed paths with Beckett, Kev," Esposito yawned softly. - And seems to have a crush on her...
The cops chuckled good-naturedly, but Castle's eyes widened wildly; these guys weren't supposed to see anything.
- Guys, you misunderstand me! It's not what it looks like! I saw her for the first time, but she had such an expressive image. And I imagined it so vividly. A beautiful and rugged prude with the power to change this world! She has (and will have!) a stern inner core, a straight line of life, and unshakable principles! Yes, I'm talking about her now as a possible heroine for my future book, and a central and in-character character is capable of pulling a lot! And if it's not too hard, give me a hint about her (and not only!) at least something! I owe you a worthy present! You will not regret it!
There was a short pause: the cops looked at each other again, but mysteriously, and Kevin waved his hand toward the table.
- And let me make you some coffee, Castle. This old machinery is so stubborn... And you and I have plenty of time...
...playfully, Castle crossed the office to take a seat in the chair to the left of the object of his attention. He looked around: an antediluvian monitor with a worn keyboard, cardboard cases stacked neatly in the corner of the desk, and an empty mug to the left of the workplace. A black and metallic embossed sign on the desk read: "Detective Catherine Beckett," and the owner of the title was busy filling out a form in her beautifully cursive handwriting. And there was something else on the table that evoked mixed feelings.
"Wow! Friendly elephants! Some kind of mascot, no less!" - And Rick hummed, drawing attention to himself, but Beckett's shoulders didn't even move, and the pen just kept scribbling on the paper. And Castle hummed even louder, thinking that he had not been heard, but Beckett reacted unexpectedly: sharply raised her head to look at the intruder, shoveled the documents into a stack and, putting it in the desk, jumped up from her seat. Her terra-cotta knit jacket was hanging on the back, and Kate had it on in a split second: Her grin was contemptuous and cold.
- If you're not well, mister, you don't belong at the station, you belong in a hospital bed. Shall I call a doctor? - and she waggled her eyebrow as smoothly as she had once done, but Castle was not embarrassed at all, producing his most charming smile.
- You're not the first one to try to get me into bed (you know!), but somehow it's always in the wrong way... And actually, my name is Rich.
- I know," said Beckett as she cut it off, adjusting the badge on her belt, "and that's good enough for me. Are you finished? I'm trying to work here, for a minute!
Kate was clearly disgusted with the conversation, and, trying to get the girl to like him just a little bit, Castle sat up straight in his chair and pleaded with his hands folded across his chest.
- I just... I was just wondering, have we met before?
Some incomprehensible, strange vivacity flashed in her gaze; Kate furrowed her brows painfully, and the index finger of her hand, in such a familiar and characteristic gesture, touched the expressive lips.
- I don't remember handcuffing you, or dreaming of shooting you on a long chase," Beckett smiled, but it was awkward and ugly, "but if you ask me any silly questions, I'll ring you for you!
- Oh, so you like S&M? - Castle still wished to shake her up at least a little, but the attempt certainly failed: Beckett only grimaced contemptuously, then abruptly, with her hands resting on the table top, threw her body forward, coming closer to Castle face to face, and exhaled angrily, unhappily full-throated.
- I love it, Mr. Castle! Catch up, handcuff the dude, stick his face on the floor and see if we're laughing or not! Does that make sense, Mr. Castle? Also, you have time to look around for now, and all we have here is work. In fact, I need to go over there!
Beckett pointed a finger behind her back, straightened up, biting her lip nervously, and without any regret showed her back to Castle, walking away to the elevator.
And Rick... Catching the sarcastic glances of the already familiar couple at the table across the aisle, he sprawled in his chair, arms crossed over his stomach. Yes, that wasn't how the essentially strange and sudden meeting had gone: he'd lost the battle, but he hadn't lost the war, and something told him that getting close to Beckett again would take a lot of time and energy. Like the local, infamous-tasting coffee was taking them away, and Rick made a necessary and important call.
Castle didn't leave the precinct until the evening. He chatted with Montgomery, gave him his thoughts on the partnership with Beckett, got to know a dozen other detectives, promised autographs, visited the archives with Ryan, and even watched the work of the coroner through the glass. And that alone gave rich food for thought, but without the central character of his book all this knowledge would lie dead weight in his notebook. And it didn't take much thought at all to figure out who that central character would be. Only she is Evie/Kate, only Kate Beckett, and his renewed attraction to her will allow the novel to be described in such detail and emotion that the housewives behind the book will gasp with emotion. And that's collections, success, and recognition from the entire literary community. Even a Pulitzer Prize is possible. But that's a dream for the future, and right now his heroine needs an antipode and a sidekick at the same time. At first the heroine rejects him, making it clear that she "does not care about him at all," but one tangled case will bring them together and maybe even put in the same bunk. What's more, he was good at describing things like that...
On his way to the loft, Castle stopped at a distinguished coffee house, and now, over his third cup in a row, he was contemplating a rapprochement strategy. The fact that Beckett didn't recognize him, or pretended not to, set them back to square one, which meant making every effort to win her soul and body. For even now, with the nerve endings of his back, he felt a shiver of her presence. Just like then, he wanted to take her so familiar/unfamiliar face in his hands, sink his boredom into those juicy, inviting lips, and kiss her until he was mind-blown. And then caress, embrace, desire this flexible, beautiful body, wriggling beneath him, so that together in the end he could forget. Together, and maybe forever, but the timing would have to be right.
And now his, Castle, first worthy step in the position of assistant detective Beckett should be an offering of coffee to her. As Rick remembered from that - long ago - time, Evie/Kate was literally fixated on that drink, and that more than a dozen cups he planned to serve her would surely cement, as it should, their relationship, unify their minds, and make their future actions together more systematic and fruitful. And not to be unsubstantiated, right today, with the blessing of the captain, Castle had already set up a real, branded coffee machine in the lounge, so that the object of his adoration drank not "monkey piss", but real coffee, with unsurpassed deep aroma and incomparable taste. And this is just the beginning...