Chapter 24

For the next five weeks, Castle and Beckett established a routine. Beckett went to PT, cursed the sling, did the exercises with strict attention to doing only what the PT allowed – monitored by Castle and accompanied by commentary which would have ensured her chairwomanship of the Guild of Fishwives and Dockworkers in perpetuity – and gradually began to increase her range of motion. Castle, over Beckett's voluble protests, cooked, made coffee, ferried her around, spoke to Alexis and Martha every other day (to find that they really didn't mind that he was away) and continued to spend two afternoons a week in the library for anyone who wanted to talk to him or get books signed. Beckett huddled into a corner and read, only occasionally disturbed, which suited her just fine. She'd never wanted to be a public hero. Officer Dermot looked in once a week; Montgomery called her once a week.

And every night they went to bed together, snuggled close, discovering the extent of passionate kissing that was available, then sleeping hand in hand, or with Castle's arm firmly around Beckett's waist.

Mid-morning at the beginning of August, Beckett's phone rang.

"Beckett."

"Detective," Montgomery's smooth tones greeted her. "How are you getting along?"

"Better, sir. The PT is pretty pleased with how it's going. The sling came off at the end of last week."

"Good. Don't overdo it. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your future."

Beckett's heart plummeted.

"Obviously you can't go back in the field till your shoulder's completely better and the NYPD has determined that you have enough motion in it to perform your duties safely and to an acceptable standard. That sure isn't now."

"No, sir," Beckett drooped. "The PT says at least another eight weeks before I can start on strengthening and then six after that before it's as good as it'll get."

"Hm," Montgomery said, in a tone which indicated that he'd made his own enquiries. "That ties up with what I was told. I'm pleased to hear that you aren't trying to snow me."

"Sir."

"Anyway, it's clear you won't be back in the field for another three to four months. I can't have detectives sitting around for that long."

"No, sir."

"And I don't want you sitting at your desk doing paperwork all the time either. You'd go crazy and you'd drive your team and me crazy."

"Sir."

"I'm not having that in my precinct."

Silence. Beckett blinked hard.

"So, I have a plan."

"Sir?"

"The Academy wants to have a guest lecturer to tell the latest crop of cadets what it's really like. You're it."

"What? Sir," she added hastily.

"And since that's not a full-time role by any means," Montgomery added, "the rest of the time you'll be in the precinct" –

"But you just said" –

"Let me finish, Detective."

"Sir. Sorry, sir."

"You'll be with your own team on their cases – but not out in the field – but I also want you to mentor some of the uniforms who're thinking about promotion to detective. You can start with LT." Beckett could hear the evil grin in Montgomery's voice. "You're going to be a teacher, Beckett. It's about time you started passing on your skills to a wider group than Detectives Esposito and Ryan. Castle writing about them doesn't count."

"I what, sir?"

"You're going to be a teacher. I'm sure you'll do it just as well as detecting."

"But…but…"

"But I'm not having you sitting around wasting your time and not doing anything useful. Training the cadets is valuable – and," he added, "showing them that our top cop is female won't hurt a few of them either."

"Sir," Beckett said dazedly. She hadn't expected that.

"And LT and the others who want to go for detective know your reputation and'll listen to you."

"Yes, sir."

"And most importantly, we can work it all around your PT schedule," Montgomery stated. "Because make no mistake, Beckett, this is a stop-gap measure. I want you back in the field."

"Sir, yes, sir. I wanna be back in the field."

"So I expect you back in Manhattan in one week's time, to report to me."

"A week, sir?"

"Yup. That gives you time to get your PT transferred to a Manhattan/NYPD therapist, tidy up your affairs there, and pass on my compliments to Chief Tully. He tells me you've been a great advert for the NYPD."

Beckett choked.

"We were at the Academy together," Montgomery divulged.

"He never said that!" Beckett squawked.

"Nope. I asked him not to tell you."

More squawks.

"I know you, Beckett. I wanted the truth, not evasions." It was a rebuke.

"Sir."

"So. Next Monday, you'll be here. Good to have you back. Don't get shot again."

"I wasn't intending to, sir."

"Glad to hear it. Oh – one more thing. Castle can shadow you at the Academy, and if the officers you're teaching are happy about it, that too."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I'll tell him."

"Okay. That's all. Till Monday."

"Thank you, sir."

Beckett laid the phone down, and burst into tears of relief. Castle hurtled in and only just stopped short of the table, skidding as he halted. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Beckett bawled.

"You're crying. That's not nothing. What's happened?"

"Montgomery called."

"And?" Castle said, cold dread congealing in his stomach. Surely Beckett hadn't been fired?

"I've to report for duty on Monday," she wept. "I'm back, Castle. I can go back."

"How? You're still one-armed."

"Teaching. Academy, officers who want to go for detective. And working with Ryan and Espo but only from my desk." She blinked hard and sniffed. "I thought he'd fire me."

"Roy wouldn't do that."

"No choice if I couldn't work."

"Are you happy about it?" Castle asked. She was still sniffing.

"Yes."

He hugged her. "That's great!"

"But I have to teach the cadets," she muttered.

"You faced down Finn Rourke in his own den," Castle said. "How can a bunch of green cadets be worse than that?"

Beckett blinked. "How did you know about that?"

"You told me." He grinned. "Wish I'd seen it."

"Anyway, cadets. Ugh."

"Better than the alternative," Castle pointed out, and then frowned. "What…if you're not solving murders, what about me?"

"You can still stalk me," Beckett said mischievously.

"I do not stalk, I shadow." Castle put on an air of grave offence, which only made Beckett giggle. "Stop giggling at me." Beckett giggled again. "I won't make your coffee," he threatened.

"Oh, well – in that case." She stopped giggling, though her eyes danced.

"Monday," Castle said thoughtfully. "So we've got a week to get home?"

"Yeah. We'll need to leave here tidy, and you'll have to tell Mrs Tousa – I'll tell Chief Tully."

"I don't think that's fair. She might be cross with me, and then I'll be run out of town. They'll probably pelt me with tomatoes on the way if she's cross."

Beckett's face fell. "I'll have to leave my Harley here," she grumbled. "I don't want to."

"You can't ride it, though. I can't ride it, either. I need to drive us back."

"You keep your hands off my Hog!" Beckett whipped back. "You're not touching it."

"Then you can't drive my Ferrari either," Castle riposted. "Mine."

"Ferrari?" Her eyes gleamed green and covetous. "You have a Ferrari?"

"Surely you found that out when you ran me?"

"If I did, I forgot. But I wanna drive it."

"And I wanna ride your Harley, but you won't let me – and even if you did, you won't be driving for weeks yet – hey, does that mean I can drive your unit?"

"No."

Castle pouted. "Aww, no fair."

"It's a cop cruiser, not my personal vehicle. Anyway, Montgomery won't let me out of the precinct except to the Academy, and that's only on East 20th. He'll make me go by public transit." It was Beckett's turn to pout. "I've never taught in my whole life."

"Not true."

"I haven't."

"Not formally," Castle said. "But you explain and show and bring people on every day you work. That's teaching, by example."

"It's not the same. I don't have to do anything special there, I just have to do my job. Standing up in front of a class… that's different."

"Are you nervous?" Castle blurted. "Because I promise they'll be far scareder of you than you are of them. You're legendary."

"I don't want to be a hero," Beckett said.

"Like it or not, you are. The Academy is going to have your bio as a guest lecturer, and they'll all look you up if they've any investigative skills at all." He grinned. "You could make that their first assignment."

Beckett scowled. "No way."

Castle slid an arm around her. "Like it or not, you're a hero," he repeated. "So own it."

"Montgomery wants me to – quote – pass on his compliments to Chief Tully. They were at the Academy together," Beckett diverted. "I guess I'd better do that while you're explaining to Mrs Tousa tomorrow afternoon."

"You won't be there to protect me?" Castle threw his hands in the air dramatically. "But Beckett, what if she gets mad at me?"

"Smile sweetly and exert some of that charm page six keeps talking about."

"Mean."

Beckett smiled. "We'd better start to tidy up. If I've to report next Monday, I'd like to be back home by Thursday, and it's a pretty long drive."

"Leave Wednesday, stay somewhere overnight on the way? I don't want to drive all the way in one day if I don't have to, and it probably won't be good for your shoulder."

"Let's get on with it, then."

"You, Detective, are going to sit nicely while I tidy up. I haven't managed to get you this far so you can do too much now." Beckett squawked. "Nope. There isn't much to do anyway, and we still have to eat and wash till Wednesday. No point doing anything before tomorrow evening."

Suddenly, Beckett smirked. "You know, I could really get used to having a domestic servant. Are you for hire?"

Castle smiled back lazily. "Personal services only. Would you like a massage?" His tone dripped sexuality. "Or something else?"

"Do you do pole dancing?"

"I'm not that flexible." His smile turned predatory. "But I could do lapdancing."

Beckett squirmed slightly, thinking of recent evenings where Castle's lap, or at least a lap-adjacent area, had been very much present; not to mention nights where Castle's impressive endowment had been interestingly accessible or even more interestingly pressed against her.

For the rest of the day, Beckett could barely stop smiling. Even undertaking her PT was less awful than usual. She put in a call to the police station, and made an appointment with Chief Tully for the following day. Castle declined to forewarn Mrs Tousa, claiming that he wanted to leave Walton alive. Beckett scoffed.

Beckett wasn't scoffing on Tuesday afternoon. Sitting in the library, she had a perfect position to hear Castle trying to explain their departure to Mrs Tousa.

"So," Castle said smoothly, "we have to go back to the city on Wednesday."

"Oh?"

"Beckett's been told she can go back to work, so I'm taking her," he explained.

"Oh?" This oh carried disappointment.

"She can't drive herself," he said. "And she's needed in New York."

"But what about all the people who want to see you?"

"I have to take Beckett home."

"They'll be hugely disappointed."

Castle stopped. "Hold on. You know perfectly well that everyone's had five weeks to meet me. You're just messing with me."

"Sure I am. You wouldn't be much use to that girl if you could be distracted from doing the right thing by fans and fame." She smiled. "Now, you take good care of her." The smile dropped. "Or you won't be welcome back here."

Beckett thought it might be time to intervene. She stood up and joined Castle. "Castle's welcome at my cabin any time," she said firmly. "He's looked after me all this time and I'll decide if I need someone to take care of me."

Mrs Tousa smiled smugly. "I was waiting to see what you'd do, honey. Stepping in to defend your man's the right thing too. You two'll be just fine. And I want an invitation to the wedding, okay?" she threw backwards as she left.

"Wedding?" they said together, equally terrified.

"I think I'll go see Chief Tully," Beckett rushed out, blushing beautifully. "Before Mrs Tousa starts booking the officiant." She left in some disarray. Behind her, Castle smiled thoughtfully, thinking that a wedding wouldn't be a bad idea. Someday. Which was not today. Really not. He told his brain to settle down and stop jumping the gun.

Beckett strolled towards the police station, mind awhirl. Wedding? No no no. (Yes yes yes, said an over-enthusiastic piece of brain. She rammed it back into a common-sense box.) Far too early even to think about that. They were barely even dating.

"Chief Tully?" Beckett said politely.

"Detective Beckett," Tully replied. "Good to see you."

"Sir. I've come to tell you that I'm leaving tomorrow, and reporting for work on Monday."

Tully regarded her with surprise. "You are?"

"Yes, sir. And Captain Montgomery requested that I pass on his compliments to you. He said you went through the Academy together."

"We did." Tully smiled evilly. "So what's he doing with you?"

"Teaching, sir. Guest lecturing at the Academy, desk work, and mentoring officers who want to take the detective's exams."

Tully whistled. "He sure doesn't want you off the job."

"Sir?" Beckett said blankly.

"Now, don't you tell him I told you this, but your captain must've pulled some pretty big strings to get you a guest lecture place – rather than making you sit at home or on restricted duty. They don't hand those out like candy."

Beckett gaped at him.

"Speaks well of your reputation, strings or not," Tully added. "No matter who suggests you, you only qualify if you're the best."

Beckett thought that her blush might qualify for spontaneous human combustion.

"Thank you, sir," she managed.

"But try not to encourage the cadets to get shot. You're issued a gun for a reason."

"Sir."

"If you ever want somewhere quieter, Detective, lemme know. You'd be welcome here any time." He grinned. "And you can tell Roy Montgomery I offered, too. That'll keep him on his toes." He stood up and extended his hand. "Tweaking Roy's tail aside, you did a great thing here, and we won't forget. Come back soon."

"Thank you, sir." Beckett shook his hand firmly, and escaped as quickly as she could while not actually running away. Even the library with the prospect of fans was better than Chief Tully. She'd process what he'd said later, with Castle, who'd be able to help her stave off her incipient panic attack.

The library was buzzing. Beckett suspected that Mrs Tousa had put out the word that it was Castle's last day – how, she didn't know: maybe there was a small-town telepathic net – what? That was as crazy as Castle – and everyone was here to talk to him.

Or not him.

"She's here!" someone hollered, and all hell broke loose. Beckett was engulfed in a sea of people, all wanting to shake her hand, say goodbye, sing songs (what the hell?) and generally ensure that she was sent off in considerable style. A sharp whistle brought the whole palaver to a screeching halt.

"Quiet!" snapped Mrs Tousa, and silence appropriate to a Presidential address fell instantly. "Detective Beckett, we just wanted to show how much we appreciate you. Since we can't kidnap you and keep you here" – appreciative giggles – "we just want to make sure you know that you've to come back often, and you'll be welcome every time."

"Speech! Speech!" someone yelled.

"Uh…" Beckett began. "Thank you. Uh…I don't deserve all of this. I just did what any cop would do." She managed a reasonable facsimile of a smile. "You're all great, and you've been far too kind to me. Thank you." She tried to hide after she'd finished, but Castle – treacherous rat! – had other ideas, and hoisted her on to the library counter where everyone could see her. Somebody clapped, and as the noise grew, Castle compounded his sins by delivering a smacking kiss. The cheers crescendoed, to the point where the roof shingles might have been cracking.

Castle lifted Beckett down, one single instant before she would have killed him regardless of the mobility in her shoulder, and smirked. "They wanted to bid you farewell properly," he said. "So Mrs Tousa and I made sure they could."

"I hate you," Beckett grumbled.

"Nope, you love me really. Anyway, now they've had their fun, we can go home."

"Let's."

Late on Thursday afternoon, Castle pulled up at Beckett's apartment block and followed her up, taking her small pack and then putting it in her bedroom. "Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" he asked. "You could stay at mine."

"I need to get used to managing – and your family need to see you." She looked up at him. "But…come round tomorrow, mm?"

"Sure," Castle said easily. "But first" – and he gathered her up into his arms and held her for his kiss. "I like kissing you much better without the sling in the way," he said after he lifted off. "So much easier." Beckett muttered inaudibly. "Till tomorrow," he said. "I'll come around eleven."

"See you then. Thank you for bringing me home."

Castle disappeared. Beckett looked at her pack, scowled, and unpacked it into drawers and closets. Finally, she regarded her yoga mat with considerable displeasure. She wouldn't be using that in the near future, which annoyed her immensely. Yoga calmed her down, and she could use some calming. Despite all Castle's reassurance, the idea of teaching was still terrifying. Instead, she did her PT exercises, resisted the temptation to overdo them, and put a call in to the NYPD physical therapist to book her next session. All that done, she called her favourite take-out pizza service and ate dinner when it arrived.

Even sipping her after-dinner coffee, she was unusually fretful and restless. It took her only a couple of minutes to discover that it was the absence of Castle that was causing her irritation, which was utterly ridiculous. He'd only left three hours ago. She should be perfectly able to live without him for three days, never mind three hours. Her brain was quite sure of that.

Unfortunately her body had other ideas. Her body said that it liked big, broad, warm person to snuggle up to and cuddle her. It also liked hard, passionate kisses (and soft, teasing kisses, and little pecks, and all sorts of Castle-provided kisses) and firm weight above her and pressing against her.

She told her body to shut up, and read determinedly until she fell asleep.

Thank you to all readers and reviewers.

This is the penultimate chapter.