Chapter XXIV

Two weeks later

12th Precinct, NYC

Beckett and the boys watched him on TV in the breakroom.

"He really does look ruggedly handsome," Ryan pointed out, holding a tiny cup of espresso from the machine Castle had bought for them. Both Ryan and Beckett made good use of it, but Esposito was still stubbornly clinging to the old, barely-drinkable brew from the 20-year-old pot sitting in the corner. Because real men didn't drink espresso, or something like that. It's what he was holding in his old mug now, the one with two chips on the rim that he'd already cut his lips on more than once.

Beckett leaned against the table cradling a latte in her hands. Milky and sweet, just the way she liked it.

"Look at our man flirtin' with Kristina Coterra," Esposito announced with way too much glee.

"More like Kristina Coterra getting ready to have him for dinner," Ryan added, smirking.

"Guys," Beckett frowned. "I'm not seeing this."

"Rumour has it Kristina Coterra likes to show off her bikini collection to her favourite guests after the interview is over." Esposito grinned. "Betcha ten bucks Castle is gonna make that list."

"I'm not wasting my money on a sure bet," Ryan piped in.

Beckett shot them both a glare, "What makes you think he's gonna fall for that?"

"He's a man… a straight man who's got a pulse," Esposito shot back. "Have you had a look at her? She is smokin' hot."

Now that he mentioned it, Beckett turned her attention away from the man she loved and to the woman interviewing him about the upcoming release of his first book since he killed off Derrick Storm. Esposito wasn't wrong. Kristina Coterra was hot and she knew it, judging from the tight, low-cut dress she wore that didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Now that we're all excited about your first book with a sexy female lead character, why don't you tell us who your real-life leading lady is these days, Rick? We saw some photos on social media a while ago, of you and the woman whom you've told us is your inspiration for Nikki Heat, NYPD Detective Kate Beckett."

Beckett bit her lip and focused on Castle again, watched him recover from the unexpected personal question.

"Detective Beckett and I have become good friends while I was doing research for Nikki Heat but no… there is no leading lady in my life right now."

"Well, I can't imagine it'll be that way for long," Kristina giggled. "In fact, why don't you join me for dinner tonight?"

"Dinner?"

Castle mustered a smile, but Beckett could tell that this question threw him off even more than the first one. Here's where you politely decline.

"Yeah, sure. Of course, I'd love to have dinner with you."

Beckett's eyes widened in shock, Ryan and Esposito high-fived each other and Kristina Coterra clapped her hands together with a squeal, like a little girl.

"On that note, don't forget to get your copy of Heat Wave on October 13! We'll be at the book launch and we'll see you tomorrow, with guest star, Dr. Lonny Gaucci, the CDC's charismatic new lead epidemiologist, who'll discuss whether we can expect to see a global pandemic in the near future, and after that, I'll be happy to share some details of tonight's dinner with you."

Castle smiled that well-practised smile of his, the one that wasn't impressing her at all right now.

"I meant the food, of course!" Kristina pretend-chided her audience with a wink. "Details about the food!"

The credits were already rolling on the screen.

"See, told ya." Esposito said. "Maybe her audience will get details about the food, but we'll get the real details from Castle."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Seriously, guys?"

"You jealous, Beckett?" Esposito challenged and for once his cockiness rubbed her the wrong way.

"No. Why would I be jealous of some bimbo talk show host that needs to put someone on the spot on live television like that?"

"Oh yeah, she's jealous," Ryan added. Ryan who usually had more common sense and considerably less machismo than his partner. But not today. "When's the last time you've been on a date, Beckett? I mean, a real date, not a pretend one to lure out a stalker."

She turned off the TV in the break room after grabbing the remote. "I think we're done here. Don't we have any murders to solve these days?"

Ryan sipped the last of his espresso, his blue eyes smiling. "Nope. Not a one."

Castle called her about a half hour later, after she busied herself with a stack of paperwork that she'd been setting aside for an unexpectedly quiet day just like this. The boys offered to help another detective canvass a building instead.

Of course they did.

Anything to get away from paperwork.

"How's my beautiful detective? You missing me at the precinct?"

"No," she lied. "I see someone has a dinner date."

"Oh…you saw that."

"Oh, yes. We all did. Me, Ryan, and Esposito. They're very excited about your date, by the way."

He chuckled. "Boys will be boys."

"Uh huh…"

"I'll cancel it. Tell her something came up."

Beckett bit her tongue. Didn't tell him that if he'd just politely declined on air he wouldn't have to go through the trouble now. "Okay."

"Although…"

She raised her brows. "Although what?"

"If I go for dinner with her and she mentions it on her show it would…cement our singleness."

Beckett exhaled. "'Cement our singleness' ?"

"Ryan said something last week, about how we'd make a cute couple. I'm starting to think they're on to us."

She ran a hand through her hair. "So you think having dinner with Kristina Coterra will put a stop to that?"

There was a pause on the other end. "It's a dumb idea, isn't it?"

Yes.

"But you have your girl's night with Lanie tonight anyway, don't you?"

This time the pause came from her end.

"Obviously, it would just be dinner," he added. "I'll foot the bill and find a reason to leave right after dessert."

"Fine," she said it through clenched teeth. "Go have dinner with her for the sake of our charade."

"Only if you're okay with it."

Why wouldn't I be okay with you taking another woman out for dinner?

"Kate? Are you? If you're not I'll cancel."

"It's fine. If you think this is an opportunity to show the world how very single you are, then…fine."

"You don't sound like you're fine with it."

"Castle…"

"It'll just be dinner. You know that, right?"

"It better just be dinner."

"I love you."

"Enjoy your dinner."

Manhattan, NY

While her boyfriend was wining and dining Kristina Coterra, Beckett took out her best friend.

She'd made reservations at one of Lanie's favourite French restaurants on the Upper West Side and it brightened her mood to see how much her friend enjoyed it. Made her realize she'd neglected their friendship for far too long. Back in her rookie days she used to go out for drinks with Lanie nearly every Friday or Saturday night.

But not long after her promotion to detective, everything seemed to take a backseat to work and her after-hours obsession with her mother's case.

"This was the best bouillabaisse I've ever had, in my entire life," Lanie announced as she soaked up the last fishy bit of it with a piece of baguette from that generous bread basket that sat on their table.

"Ready for dessert?"

She sighed a happy sigh when the waiter came to remove her now empty bowl of fish soup and asked her the same question, while deftly scooping up Beckett's empty plate as well.

"Mais oui," Lanie told him. "I've been thinking about the French coconut cream pie since I opened the menu."

"Excellent choice, madame," he told her with a smile. The tall, handsome Haitian had been charming Lanie almost since they sat down. "It is our house speciality."

"I'll have the chocolate mousse," Beckett told him. "And an espresso."

"Absolument."

Lanie sighed again after he left. "What is it about that language that makes everything sound beautiful?"

"In this case, I think the person saying them has something to do with it." Beckett grinned. "I think you should get his number. Now that your on-again, off-again thing with Javi is off again."

At that Lanie reached over for her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and unwrapped it to reveal 10 digits and a hyphenated name. Jules-Josue. "Oh, I am way ahead of you, girl."

Beckett's jaw dropped. "When?"

"When you went to the washroom after the appetizer."

"Wow. I'm impressed."

"He stopped by for a chat."

"I see that." Beckett picked her glass of Merlot and swirled around the last bit of it. "You know, you should take French classes, since you love all things France so much. Or plan a trip to Paris."

"You know, we have been talking about me all night. Me and Javi and our mess of a relationship, and me and those Louboutin heels I got last week that I still feel guilty about, and me and my parents driving me crazy for not visiting more often…tell me about you. How are things with Castle?"

She swallowed the last of the wine. "They're good."

Lanie leaned into the table. "But…"

Kate made a face. "No but."

"There was definitely a but in your voice. I can hear a but from across the morgue no matter how hard you try to squash it."

Kate made a mental note to work on her tells. "Well, he is having dinner with another woman tonight."

"What?" Lanie was aghast.

"He went on some morning talk show today to promote the launch of Heat Wave and the host asked him out."

"And you're okay with that?"

Her gaze went to the now empty wine glass and she half wished it was full. "It's just a dinner. To prove to the world that he's single."

"You didn't answer my question."

She turned her eyes back on her friend. "I trust him, Lanie. Nothing's going to happen."

Lanie shot her one of her famous don't-bullshit-me looks. "Still not answering my question."

"No…" she admitted. "Of course I'm not crazy about it. But it's not even about this one dinner, it's this whole charade. I don't know how much longer we're supposed to keep this up. We've been together almost five months, and aside from Martha and Alexis and the doormen at his loft, you're still the only person that knows about us."

Lanie's face softened. "Then there's that."

"It was fun at first," Kate confessed. "The secrecy. Having to keep our hands off each other, it's like it heightened how much we wanted each other. One time during a case, Castle booked an eight-hundred dollar-a-night hotel room in the middle of the day, 'cause neither of us could stand to wait until the evening. We were in there for maybe thirty minutes, while the boys thought I went to grab a sandwich."

"Instead you got a sausage."

Kate coughed and reached for her glass of water. "Something like that."

"But how long can you keep this going?"

"That's what I've started to ask myself. We can't even have a dinner out together, like this. And sometimes he feels bad about that, so he orders take-out from these really fancy restaurants, and he'll decorate the table with candlelight."

Lanie smiled. "He's a sweetheart."

"He is. I mean, sometimes he can be an arrogant, cocky bastard who drives me crazy, but he's also really, really wonderful, Lane. I'm crazy about him. I love him."

"But…" Lanie pressed. "You're gonna have to spit out that but at some point. Preferably before I turn my all attention to that coconut pie."

"But…I'm so tired of pretending," she admitted. "It feels like that's all we've done since I've met him. At first we pretend to date and then we pretend that we're not dating. It used to be fun…now it's just exhausting. Worrying all the time about someone finding out. Making sure we don't do anything to give ourselves away. Making sure I'm not looking at him like I love him or accidentally brushing my hand against his…I feel like I'm some mistress who needs to be kept hidden."

"Oh girl…" Lanie seemed sad for her and that wasn't what Kate wanted. "So what happens if people find out? Is it really such a big deal?"

"He won't be able to shadow me at the 12th anymore."

"You so sure about that?" Lanie questioned. "He's not a cop, so he's technically not a co-worker."

"I'm sure because I know Gates is just itching to have a reason to get rid of him. If it was up to her, he wouldn't even be there. Castle went over her head and straight to the mayor to get approval. She's still pissed off about that."

"Oh…" Lanie winced. "He did?"

"Oh yes."

"And…is that so bad? If he were to stop? He's launching his book in a handful of weeks. Doesn't that mean his research is over anyway?"

Beckett sighed. "He loves it, Lane. Like really loves it and he's good at it! It no longer feels like he's there just to jot things down in his endless collection of Moleskins. Sometimes his theories are wild and absurd other times they're just sane enough that they make me see things from a totally different perspective. He's helped us crack cases and if it wasn't for him, I might have died in the waters of the Hudson River a couple of weeks ago."

"So…you don't want him to leave?"

"I just…I don't want to take this away from him. I don't want to force him to choose."

Their waiter appeared out of nowhere, holding a tray with a slice of coconut pie, a small bowl of chocolate mousse and an espresso next to a tiny silver box holding two sugar cubes. He set them all down on the table with effortless grace.

Lanie's face glowed and Beckett wasn't sure whether it was because of the pie or the waiter. Or both. "Merci."

A small dollop of handmade whipped cream topped her chocolate mousse, and when she scooped up the first spoonful it melted in her mouth. It was light and airy and sinfully delicious.

"Oh my God," Lanie's exclamation was orgasmic. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to eat another pie after this one. Nothing else is gonna measure up."

Beckett smirked. "No more pies for you then."

"You didn't answer my question," Lanie added, licking every last bit of cream off her fork. "If his book is coming out soon, won't he be done with the research anyway?"

"His publisher seems to think it has the potential to become a series, like Derrick Storm."

"Oh…" Lanie broke off another generous piece of pie. "How amazing would that be, to have an entire book series based on you?"

Beckett cringed. "It's flattering, sure. But what's that gonna do to my reputation as a cop, a female cop, if there's a character based on me, one who has a naked silhouette of her body on the book cover?"

"A what?"

"It's one more thing that the boys got a kick out of this morning when they showed the audience the book cover. Can't you already hear the snickering from some of the guys on the force?"

Lanie shrugged. "Eh…you're too tough and too good at what you do to let that get to you."

She slowly scooped up the last bit of chocolate mousse and within seconds the waiter appeared to seamlessly remove the empty bowl from her sight. "Maybe…"

"But you do need to talk to him," Lanie decided. "It's not selfish to want a relationship that you don't have to hide."

"I don't know…"

"It's not selfish." Lanie insisted. "You're not sixteen anymore and sneaking around behind your parents' backs. You're grown ass adults and if that means he has to make a decision then so be it. Whether or not you want him to, he does have to choose."

Beckett bit her lip as an inexplicable fear suddenly hit her. "I just…I don't want to lose what we have."

"If he prefers playing cop over being with you in public, then you don't have all that much to lose. Trust me."

"Ladies," the waiter appeared again. "Can I get you anything else?"

Beckett checked with Lanie and when she said no, she asked him for the bill. "And a slice of the coconut pie to go for my friend, please."

"No," Lanie protested.

"Yes," Beckett insisted. "Also dinner is on me, so don't even start."

Lanie grinned. "Fine. But in exchange, you're talking to Castle, and you're gonna tell me how it went."

"I don't…"

"Yes," she shot back. "As you would say…don't even start."

Lower East Side, NYC

She'd already slipped into her favourite well-worn, oversized t-shirt at home when Castle finally called – pride and lingering annoyance prevented her from calling him, even though she was dying to know how his dinner went.

"Okay, that woman is insane!" he gasped into the phone, breathing hard.

She sat up in her bed. "Are you running? Is everything okay?"

"Escaping actually."

"What?" she sat up a little straighter.

"Can I just say that tonight…this…was a really bad idea. I can't believe you didn't talk me out of it, especially you, who's always this bastion of logic and clear-headed decisions…"

She bit back a smile. "Dare I ask what you're talking about?"

He still sounded like he was running and she heard him get into a cab. "No, maybe it's better you don't. But I do want to tell you that I won't be doing this again. Having a dinner with another woman to prove how single I am was a bad, bad idea."

She smiled. "Well, okay then. If you insist."

She heard him exhale in the taxi. "Are you in bed?"

"Yes. Just slipped in."

"I never thought I'd be jealous of a bed."

The smile was still on her face. "Good night, Castle."

"Until tomorrow, Beckett. Love you."

Manhattan, NYC

The next day all hell broke loose. A bombing at an anti-Wall Street protest in their jurisdiction. At least five people dead and dozens injured.

They walked through the scene first thing in the morning and the sheer scope of the carnage left even her, hardened homicide cop who'd seen plenty of dead bodies, shaken. For the first time since he'd started shadowing her, Beckett really wished that Castle weren't here. She didn't want him to see this, didn't want it etched in his memory the way she knew it would be in hers.

She wanted him to be her refuge from days like this and instead even his unflappable optimism was gone today. He was quiet and somber after they left the scene.

It wasn't their case to solve, but they were assigned to assist the FBI and Homeland Security. To help interview the many survivors who were there when the bomb went off while the federal agencies did the heavy lifting and tried to find the perpetrator.

There was one woman who'd come to New York on her honeymoon and lost her husband. They hadn't even been at the protest; they were just curious sightseers who wanted to see what the commotion was all about. Newlyweds whose entire life was supposed to have been ahead of them.

"Their future and all their plans, is just gone in a flash," Castle told her, still feeling the aftereffects of what they'd seen.

"It makes you think about all those things in your own life that you don't want to put off anymore." It was the first time she said it aloud but it had been on her mind all day. Lanie was right. It was time for them to move forward and stop pretending. If it was more important to Castle to stay at the 12th and do his research, she had to know.

She had to know where they stood and whether or not they had the possibility of a future together.

Beckett didn't tell him then and there but later on when he brought her a cup of coffee, as he so often did, it reminded her again. "Hey thanks. Castle…do you have a sec?"

He sat down across from her desk in the chair that was now there permanently. Even the night cleaners had stopped moving it. "Yeah, what's up?"

"I've been thinking…about the victims and all the opportunities they'll never have and I don't want that to happen…"

"Beckett," Ryan barged over and cut her off, holding a piece of paper. "We got somethin'"

Castle eyed her, oblivious to Ryan. "Kate…?"

Beckett exhaled, wondering how she'd muster the courage for this a second time. "It's okay…it can wait. Later, tonight."

The case tied them up and weighed them down, and by the end of the day they did much more than assist their federal counterparts; they ended up catching the culprit. It wasn't a right-wing zealot who hated the cause they were protesting, or even an anti-Wall Street anarchist who wanted to bring more attention to their cause. It was something so much pettier and the senselessness of it all made Beckett want to bang her head into a wall.

It turned out to be a case of ambition gone wrong. A newscaster who thought a well-timed explosion might be beneficial to her career, until the bag containing the bomb was accidentally moved and ended up causing so much more damage than she intended.

The only good thing about it was that once she was confronted with the evidence, she confessed.

It was in the bag.

When it was all over Beckett headed to the break room to grab one more coffee for the road, because if she didn't, she was afraid she might not be alert and awake enough for the conversation with Castle that she still desperately wanted to have.

She heard Castle chatting with Ryan just before she stepped into the breakroom.

"So now that your book's coming out soon, does that mean we won't see you around anymore?"

Beckett stopped dead in her tracks, unable to resist eavesdropping because she too wanted to hear the answer.

"Oh I don't know about that," Castle shot back casually. "You might have to get used to me being around. There's a good chance this will be a series and I've come to realize that Detective Beckett was exactly the inspiration I needed to write again. After that long dry spell I had, that's something I need to hang on to." Beckett felt her heart drop as she heard him setting down a ceramic cup. "Who knows? I might become a permanent fixture."

"Well, after your help today, I'm all for it. We couldn't have cracked this one without you."

"Thanks," Castle lapped it up. "That means a lot."

"…Detective Beckett is exactly the inspiration I needed to write again. After that dry spell I had, that's something I need to hang on to..."

Was that to root of why he wanted to be with her? Because she'd helped to revive his career and inspired him to write?

Had she been stupidly naïve to think she was more than just another Sophia Turner? Kate didn't doubt that he loved her, but he'd probably loved Sophia as well.

He obviously had no desire to ever make their relationship public. Ever.

"Hey…Kate…" Castle almost bumped into her as he came out of the breakroom. "What are you doing here? I thought you were trying to cut back on coffee after six?"

"I, uh…yeah. You're right." Her mouth was so dry and she struggled to get the words out. "I am."

"You okay?"

She nodded. Too quickly. "Yeah. Fine."

"Night, Beckett. Castle." Ryan walked past both of them on his way out.

And Beckett was still glued to the spot.

"It's absurd, isn't it? What that woman did…for fame."

"Yeah." Her eyes met his. "It's crazy what some people will do to revive their careers."

He gave her a funny look, as if, for a split second, he understood what she really meant. But then it passed.

"Earlier you said you wanted to talk about something," Castle reminded her, still looking at her with something that looked like both concern and curiosity.

"I, uh…no. It's not that important." She took in a gulp of air. "I think I'm gonna head home."

"My place?" he whispered after looking around to make sure no one was within earshot.

She shook her head again. "I'm…really tired tonight. I just want to sleep, in my own bed."

"Okay," he agreed, without really hiding his disappointment. But not pushing. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. 'Night, Castle."

She made it two blocks past the precinct until the tears started to fall. She wiped them away angrily before taking the stairs down to the subway.

At the start of the day she really wanted to know the truth. Wanted to know where they stood, because she foolishly thought he'd want the same thing. But know that she knew better, she wished she'd let herself spend a few more months in ignorant bliss.

He's not with her any more.

I've already watched his interview three times but I get chills every time he says it. Dozens of tiny goosebumps rising on my arms.

He's not with anyone.

I don't have to protect him from those whores anymore, I just have to be there for him.

After all these months, I have something to live for again. I have to find a way to be at his launch party. To let him know that it's not too late. I've forgiven him and am still willing to love him the way he deserves to be loved.

I'm still a prisoner here, in this rich, gated community in Houston.

Papa locked me up here, in my cousin Antonio's house.

I've only seen Papa once since he kidnapped me on Long Island. It's mostly his fists that I saw. He beat me so bad, I wasn't sure I was gonna live.

I know he wanted to kill me and I know it was Mama who stopped him. Mama, the good Catholic, who probably got all hysterical and stopped him from doing it. I'm not sure if that's what happened, because I wasn't sure of much of anything in the weeks after that, but I'd bet money on it.

Mama's always had a soft spot for me. She's been here twice in the last few months and both times she wanted to pray with me. So I played along. I cried and asked God to forgive me for my sins and that made her happy. She's all about Jesus now. Now that Papa spends his nights with younger women who have tight asses and perky breasts, women whose stomachs haven't been stretched by giving birth four times.

At first I was watched pretty closely. But after a while Antonio kinda stopped caring. I can walk around the house as long as I don't go outside and stay out of everybody's business. Like I care about the lines of coke they do in the living room while playing cards or betting on their stupid fights on TV.

I'm good at looking dumb.

I walk to the fridge to get food and sometimes they look at me and I see them laughing at Papa's screwed-up son. They sure wouldn't do it in front of his face but here they do.

They think I'm a loser, but they're sitting around in their snakeskin shoes and ridiculous prison tattoos and I'm the one who's laughing at them.

Meanwhile, I've stolen hundreds and hundreds of dollars out of their fat wallets while they were wasted or screwing some whores in a bedroom.

No one even noticed, and I have enough money that I can survive when I get out of here.

And now I have a reason to get out.

I have to get to that party. I have to be with him.

He's ready for me now.