A/N: Hey guys! Once again, I appreciate all the kind words for this fic. It really lifts me up on days I need it.
This is the big one (in more ways than one). This is the talk. At first, I was going to split it into two chapters, but I decided the Band-Aid needed to be ripped off all at once. Doing that made an already long chapter into a real behemoth. This chapter also puts me over the 25,000-word mark for the mini-ficathon, yay me!
I already answered this on Twitter, but for those who missed that and were wondering about Mimny, read chapter 2. :)
And away we go!
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Chapter 7
7:15.
Castle should be here any minute. He wasn't the type to be 'fashionably late' unless he really was running late, and then he'd call. As important as the discussion they were about to have was, Kate was almost surprised he hadn't gotten here early.
A rich meaty smell permeated the apartment, making her mouth water even as her stomach was churning. She wasn't sure she'd be able to eat a bite, but she continued her preparation, adding soft breadsticks to the oven, then pulling salad fixings out of the fridge and tossing them into a large bowl.
Everything was ready, all she needed now was Castle.
All she needed was Castle.
In more ways than one.
Shaking her head to rid herself of that line of thought – not the time, Beckett – Kate's eyes drifted to the notepad sitting on the coffee table. She'd tried to list her reasons in a series of bullet points, but her emotions had gotten the best of her and the words poured out. How on earth was she going to be able to speak to Castle without overflowing or panicking? There were a few tear splotches on the paper, (another reason she wasn't going to just hand the note to Castle) and even rereading through the paragraph, she almost spiraled back to the cemetery.
She pressed her fingers against the scar on her chest. She did that when it twinged or when she needed comfort. She hadn't figured out exactly why pressing it made her feel better, other than for some reason it helped ease the ache and reminded her she was still alive. She'd beaten the bastard who had shot her. It helped this time as well. She was alive, and she was going to have a serious discussion with the man she loved about their relationship.
Kate was not normally an optimistic type; she saw too much horror and depravity in her job to be able to see all the sunshine and unicorns that were supposed to exist. But for all the darkness surrounding the situation with Castle, even with pouring her heart and eyes out on the notepad, she thought she might see a tiny ray of light peeking through.
He wanted to talk. After two weeks of silence or snark, he wanted to sit down and talk about the issue. It helped that she thought she knew what that issue was now, so they could get right into it if need be.
She'd pretty much let go of the idea of a nice leisurely meal with small talk, and the big convo later. The elephant was too big, and at best there would be stony silence while they shoveled their food into their mouths if they didn't open with the discussion. She just hoped they wouldn't lose their appetites during the debate. Ha! That word debate. This was going to be an argument no matter how positive she was trying to be about it. Optimism or not, this thing could still go sideways, and she knew it.
Kate sighed and opened her case notes. It was time to get out of her head. The first thing she pulled up was the code. W4-1949-898. What the hell did that mean? Maybe it wasn't a code at all, maybe it was a serial number for an object of some kind. Still didn't explain what it was, but she made a note to check it out.
There was a knock at her door at the same time as the oven timer pinged. Of course. She jogged to the door and peeked through the peephole. Sure enough, it was Castle. And it looked like he'd brought the wine she'd decided not to ask him for. And he looked damn good – again, not the time.
She was smiling as she opened the door to him.
"Hi," she said, perhaps a little too brightly for the circumstances. You're trying too hard, Beckett. "Come on in. The timer just went off, I need to get the lasagna out of the oven." She turned and jogged over to the kitchen.
XXXXXX
Castle looked a little nonplussed at Beckett's attitude. It threw him off what little game he had going on in his head. While he wasn't necessarily expecting her to be downbeat, he wasn't expecting upbeat either. He followed her to her kitchen and watched her open the oven and take the food out.
Huh. There was a stiffness in Kate's posture as she placed the lasagna on a trivet on the counter, then bent back down and removed a pan of breadsticks. Stiffness that had nothing to do with the heat of the oven.
Maybe she wasn't as buoyant as she seemed at the door. He placed the wine on the countertop as she turned to him with her lip between her teeth.
She's nervous! Rick thought in some surprise. Had she figured out why (or more likely was she ready to admit she already knew why) he was so angry with her? Maybe, but it made him feel better that she was as nervous as he was.
XXXXXX
Dithering. Damn it she was dithering. She was acting like Aunt Theresa at Thanksgivings long past. Flitting around the kitchen trying to make sure everything was just so. It didn't help that Castle was eyeballing her so closely. She was nervous enough as it was without him staring.
"Corkscrew's in that drawer," Kate pointed, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "And glasses are in that cupboard if you want to pour?"
"R-right," Rick stammered, breaking eye contact.
Huh. Castle was nervous too. Hopefully that wouldn't put a damper on their conversation. The last thing either of them needed was to awkwardly sit on either end of the couch like a couple of 12-year-olds on a first date, saying nothing.
"This needs to rest for a few minutes," Kate said, indicating the lasagna. "Neither of us need to be eating lava."
That cracked the ice between them a little.
A smile crept onto Castle's face. That was something he would have said...before…
Maybe there was hope.
Then he put his hand in his pocket and fingered the small portable computer drive there and his smile faded. Damn it, his mother was right. There was no way this relationship could be saved with his secret hanging over them too. Kate would be rightfully angry about what he'd done, with meeting with Smith and not telling her. Even though he'd met with the man alone, he should have called her immediately and they could have worked on this together. He was still worried that she would dive off the deep end if he showed her, but if he had done so earlier, he might have been able to ease her into the pool.
Kate noticed Rick's grin falling and wondered if this was the way it was going to go. A little banter, then remembrance of the problem. It may be too little too late, but she had to keep trying.
"Castle?" She indicated the bottle in his hand, the glasses waiting.
He jumped. "Right," he said, quickly pouring two perfect servings into the glasses. "Shall we sit while we wait?"
He cringed visibly.
"Sorry, I shouldn't try to host in your home."
Kate's smile returned.
"That's all right, I was just going to suggest that."
She set the timer for 10 minutes and the two moved to the couch.
"Oh, crap," Kate said. She put her glass on the coffee table and quickly began putting all her papers into a pile. "I was looking at some case stuff before you..."
She trailed off when Castle picked up the notepad and began to read.
"I think I understand why you're so angry. I was trying to figure out why you started pulling away and remembered it was during the Boylan Plaza bombing case. I read through some of the transcripts of the interrogations from that case, and came across one in particular. I said to the suspect that I remembered my shooting, and I think you may have heard that. I know that explanations probably won't mean much, but I need to try. You've said – and I believe you – that watching me die was the worst thing you've ever seen. But look at it from my end for a minute. You watched, I experienced. And everything that happened that day… Well. Everything was a part of that experience. You cannot know – and I don't ever want you to know or find out how much physical and emotional pain is involved in a shooting. I couldn't breathe, I… Well, you know the aftermath. I know this is going to hurt you, but I have to tell you. Your telling me you loved me was a part of that pain. It was a part of not being able to breathe. Combined with not knowing if you really meant it or you were just saying it because I was dying… I couldn't respond then, and I didn't know how to respond later. It's an excuse, I know it, and I know I've taken too long to say anything at all. And while I wouldn't blame you if you turned around and walked out of here, I don't want you to. I don't want you to leave the precinct either. Working this case has been so difficult without you. Colin is a nice guy and a fine detective, but it just isn't the same. It's just wrong to bounce theories off him and not you.
XXXXXX
Gobsmacked.
A good word, gobsmacked. One of those words where you just know what it means the first time you hear it.
Gobsmacked and bitter. He thought... He'd really thought she wanted a face to face verbal conversation/argument/fight – whatever it turned into. But this? A letter? Beckett might as well just have mailed it to him. His hands shook so badly the paper rattled.
"Was this really how you wanted to 'talk' to me tonight?" Rick asked stonily. "A note? And then to say you don't want me to leave the precinct? I suppose the 'tearstains'," he actually airquoted the word, "were a nice touch. You know, you're the one who said we're not poster children for communication, but I thought you actually wanted to talk about this..."
He was working himself up into a full-fledged conniption when he looked up and saw the panicked expression on Kate's face. For some reason that made him relax a little and he sat back on the couch instead of standing and leaving as he first wanted to. Always a sucker for the story, damn it. He leaned forward again to pick his glass up and take a sip of the wine, wishing it was something stronger.
"Beckett?"
XXXXXX
Shit! Shit! Shit!
The one thing she didn't want him to see, and of course he picks it up. This could not possibly get worse – don't think that Beckett, with your luck, you'll jinx it.
Kate moved to take the notepad from Castle, but he pulled his hand away.
"Kate? Give me a reason why I shouldn't up and walk out right now."
"You weren't supposed to see that," Kate replied. "I do want to talk – really talk about all this."
Castle eyed her in disbelief and suspicion. He scanned the notepad again, his frown deepening.
"Castle, I don't have your gift for words," Kate sighed. "So, I decided to make notes; to give me an idea of what I wanted to say and maybe how to say it." She indicated the pad in Castle's hand. "I was going to put that thing in my bedroom, or in a drawer or something. Maybe it sounds stupid, maybe it was stupid, maybe it is stupid, but it was something to do to put my jumbled thoughts in some semblance of order. And yes, I cried. I don't apologize for that; this whole thing has been a monumental fuck up – at least on my part, and I know that. But I never meant you to just read my explanation like that. It's all a part of what I was going to say, but I did want to speak face to face about it. I did."
The timer pinged and Kate closed her eyes. She stood and moved to the counter, standing still a moment, wondering if she should serve dinner or not. Her appetite had certainly been squashed.
Then she felt Castle coming up behind her. He silently opened the cupboard door again and pulled out a couple of plates.
"Let's eat," he said, not looking at Kate. "I have a feeling we'll both need our strength for this."
Kate nodded, took the plates from him, and served up the lasagna.
"Take these to the table, please. I'll get the salad out of the fridge."
Rick complied and Kate grabbed the bowl and a bottle of homemade raspberry vinaigrette and joined him.
"Oh, the breadsticks!" she exclaimed, rushing back to pull another plate from the cupboard and putting the thin bread on it, while Castle returned to the kitchen for silverware and napkins. Kate pointed to the appropriate drawers.
It was all so domestic, even with the cloud above their heads, that Kate almost smiled. How could they still be 'them' with everything?
Then the slight levity she felt dropped when Castle decided to dive in. Not just the food, but the discussion they'd already started.
"So you really didn't believe that I was telling the truth about my feelings?" he asked, the hurt evident in his tone.
Kate took a bite, set her fork on her plate and chewed thoughtfully.
"It wasn't that I didn't believe you – though, to be fair, I really don't remember much immediately after that..."
"Well, you did pass out right after I said it," Rick interrupted.
Kate nodded and stared at her plate.
"Yeah, and I don't remember anything until I woke up with my dad and Josh hovering over me in the recovery room." She looked at Castle and her lips turned up slightly at his scowl at the mention of Josh. "Things were still fuzzy for a few hours, but after my dad stepped out to grab some coffee, suddenly the bell rang. Full color flashback. I was on the grass, you were above me, begging me not to die, telling me you loved me."
She looked down and then back up at the man watching her with sad but suspicious eyes.
"Do you remember the panic attacks I had during that sniper case?"
Castle blinked at the apparent change in subject.
"Yes," he replied a little warily. "I saw the one beginning before you shut me out and ran away, and you told me about another in your apartment when you cut your wrist after breaking a glass?"
"Yeah, and both of those were a walk in the park compared to the one I had in the hospital that day. I was screaming, and punching the air..."
Kate slowed her words, remembering, as Castle looked at her in some astonishment.
"I tore some stitches. It was a good thing Josh was already in the room, being a doctor and all. I'm glad my dad hadn't come back yet, I had to be sedated. I think that was a couple of hours before you came. I was still a little loopy when you got there."
"Yes, I remember."
Kate closed her eyes for a moment, but otherwise ignored the small dig.
"One reason – and I know there were more reasons, my dad told me about the fight you and Josh had, though he talked about that later – one reason that Josh was annoyed you were there, was because he was afraid your presence would give me another attack. You were there at the cemetery; you were with me. You were so much a part of that day. Josh was right to be wary; I know he spoke to the nurse outside and told her to keep an eye on me while you were there. So if I did collapse again, help was immediate."
Castle nodded, a little surprised she didn't dwell more on his and Davidson's fight in the waiting room.
"And as for was the 'I love you' real or not..."
"How could you think it wasn't?" Castle interrupted. "I was begging you to stay, to not die! Did… did it ring false somehow?"
"I don't know if it rang true or false, Castle. I heard you, and I saw you... but I was dying. God. The pain."
Kate paused and pressed her fingers to the scar on her chest. This time it the press didn't ease any pain, she was remembering, swaying back and forth on the couch.
Rick sat up straighter watching Kate in concern. He'd seen the action before, but realized this was a little different. She seemed right on the edge of... something not good.
Then Kate seemed to pull herself back from whatever brink she'd been on and spoke again, a little shakily.
"When I woke up the first time, everything was weird and I wasn't remembering much, and waking up the second time – well, you know how I overthink everything. Did you say it only because you were trying to keep me alive? To give me hope? To..."
"Well, I was trying to give you hope, Beckett. That doesn't mean it wasn't real," Rick broke in again.
"I know that now, Castle," Kate replied. "At least, I hope I do. But the reason I sent you away was because I nearly did spiral down. You came in the room and I wanted to talk to you, but I barely held it together. I cried for an hour after you left, though somehow I was able to keep from going off the deep end again. Kind of like just now, though as you saw, I have learned how to control it to an extent."
She paused and took a sip of wine.
"You don't have to tell me the whole story right now, Kate," Rick said. I'd like to know eventually of course, but right now I'd like to know why you thought my declaration..." he grimaced at his over the top choice of words... "wasn't real."
"It was like a deathbed declaration?" Kate phrased it as a question. "I was afraid you only told me because I was dying. And then you never said it again, so..."
"Well, if you'd 'remembered' sooner," the airquotes were back, as was Castle's irritation. "Kate, if you'd told me you heard me and still needed time, I would have given it."
"Fair enough," she shot back, irritation of her own coming through. "But I didn't and then I took so long to come clean that you found out on your own. And I'm sorry for that."
Castle stood and began pacing. He stayed away from the door in a move that made Kate think he was showing her he wasn't leaving. That was good.
"I'm not sure sorry cuts it, Beckett," he bit out. "It's been months! First you disappeared for three months and if you'd said something when you came back it wouldn't have been so bad, but you didn't! Can you even understand why I'm so pissed?"
Kate buried her face in her hands. How did they get here?
Stupid question, Beckett. A better one might be how do you knock his walls down?
"Of course I understand, Rick," she replied through her fingers. "And I don't blame you at all, especially considering how you found out."
The muffled 'Rick' stopped the man in his tracks. There it was again. Using his first name when she was taking conversations seriously. The ice around his heart cracked a little.
Kate looked up at him from the table.
"I'm trying to make you understand my reasoning," she said. "I know it'll never be good enough, it's all just excuses, but that's where my mindset was. It was easier if it wasn't real."
Castle stopped pacing and sat again, face falling. 'Easier'? Kate didn't seem to notice his anguish at her choice of words, because she continued.
"After the surgery I realized I had to get out of town. I was in the hospital for 3 weeks and my doctors and my dad and Josh wanted me to move to a rehab center for another 3 weeks. I don't think I would have made it at a rehab center without killing someone honestly," Kate smiled sardonically. I needed alone time…"
"Three months?" Castle interrupted.
"Y-yes?" Kate hesitated, cocking her head to one side as if she was unsure.
"I mean," she continued. "I was going a bit stir crazy after awhile, which is why I came back when I did. I still had another week off. And I know I shouldn't have shut people – especially you – out for as long as I did, but I did need that time. Dad was with me the first two weeks, no matter how I tried to get him to go home, and I scared him at least four times while he was there with my panic attacks."
"You had more?" Rick asked.
"Every time I thought of you and what you said," she answered simply. "That's why I didn't call you, I thought I needed to get over the sheer terror of being shot and your admission.
Off his look, Kate took the thought further.
"Yes, your begging me not to die and that you loved me absolutely added to the terror of the day. I was with Josh, we had problems, but things were going reasonably well in the relationship at that point – albeit with a huge elephant in the room," She indicated the man sitting across from her. "– And now here's that elephant making this mammoth statement that even if Josh hadn't been in the picture I wasn't ready to hear. I wanted to remember it, Castle, I really did, but it sent me into a spiral every time. I wanted to get past panicking every time I thought about it, and I wanted to do it before I called."
She paused and took a healthy sip of her wine; Castle took a bite of his salad, smiling inwardly at her inadvertent pun.
"I realize now that I should have called sooner – that it probably would have been easier to get over the panic if you were there," Kate continued. But I was scared to call you. At first because of the attacks, and then I was scared to call you because I'd taken so damn long."
Rick was silent, processing her words.
"Castle? Say something?"
"I'm not sure I know what to say," he replied slowly. I guess I understand where you're coming from with not calling me while you were recovering, but lying to me about remembering for nearly a year is what hurts. Not to mention the way I found out that you did. If you had told me – even as late as it was – I could have understood. It still would have hurt, but I could have understood it. As it is, telling a suspect before me…"
Stop looking at me like that, Beckett. I'm still trying to be mad.
"You acted like you didn't grasp why I was – am – so angry at first, but now you do seem to know. When did you find out, or did you know the whole time and are giving my mother a run for her money in the acting department?"
Kate wanted to smile at that, but Rick still had a look of anger and pain. He wasn't joking, and that hurt her, because he had a point.
"I didn't know at first. All I knew was that you were pulling away for some reason. I thought maybe I'd waited too long to be ready, you were tired of waiting, or you were tired of me."
Castle looked like he wanted to interrupt, but Kate barreled on.
"And I wouldn't blame you if you were sick of the whole thing – or me. But you know, even if I had 'recalled' what you said sooner," this time the airquotes were hers, "– I still wasn't ready for a romantic relationship. I'm not sure I am now, but I like to think I'm getting there, and even ready or not, you and I are the most 'real' non-work partnership I've ever had, and I want it to be more. Still, I know I can't ask you to wait for me forever. And I thought that maybe you thought it was gonna take forever for me to come around and that's why you were giving up."
She looked down at her barely touched plate.
"And then, a couple of days ago, at the beginning of this case, when you had just come back from Vegas wanting to talk, I got to thinking about when you changed. And I realized it was during the bombing case. At the time I couldn't understand why you pulled away after our almost conversation at my desk…"
"Before Ryan horned in on us," Castle broke in.
Kate smiled.
"The boys do have a habit of doing that, don't they?" she said. "Anyway, I couldn't remember the specifics of that interrogation, so I pulled up the paperwork from the precinct's website…"
"You can do that from home?" Rick asked in some excitement. "That would be a treasure trove for a writer."
"I'm not giving you my password, Castle," Kate retorted. "Nor am I going to get into it so you can peruse to your heart's content. It's a work site."
Castle had the grace to look a little contrite, albeit with a twinkle in his eye. It would be a gold mine, but he had been kidding. At best she could get fired for that. And no matter what happened between them tonight, he would never jeopardize something that was so important to her.
"Yeah, you did say you looked at the transcripts in your note," he waved a hand toward the coffee table where the notepad still sat.
Kate blushed. Maybe it had been good that he'd read it. It certainly had broken the ice and got them talking.
"So I'm wondering," Rick said, melancholy coming into his eyes again. Why did you tell Bobby Lopez you'd been shot? I mean… Would you have said it if you'd known I was there? Or if you had known, would you have said something else?"
Kate put her wine glass on the table and looked Rick in the eye. Her answer would probably hurt him again, but still, it was way past time for full honesty.
"That's a very good question, Castle," she replied. "It was kind of like Bobby was baiting me without realizing it, you know? He was talking about traumatic amnesia, and blanking out and not remembering what happened." She glanced down at the table, then back up at Rick. "He was using my excuse, and that pissed me off, because I was lying, so I knew he was too."
She sighed.
"If I'd known you were there, I might have either said something else, or more likely passed it off to you later as a lie to get more out of him. I do that from time to time."
"Yes," Castle broke in. "I thought it could be that," he hesitated. "But then I thought that you usually do that with persons of interest, not full on suspects."
Kate nodded.
"It's not unheard of for me to do it with a suspect, but you're right, I don't normally do that with them. A little more difficult to unravel once the lawyers get involved."
"I'm curious, when did you realize I had been there?"
"At the time? Well, when I came out of interrogation there was a still warm cup of coffee on my desk. I asked Esposito if you'd been there and he said you had to leave."
"I think I told him I needed to be somewhere. Truth was, I needed to not be at the precinct. It wasn't the time or place to get into it with you, and if I'd confronted you then, I would have exploded and probably gotten myself arrested for my trouble."
Rick leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.
"You said it was a couple of days ago when you looked at that transcript."
"Yes," Kate replied.
"You didn't realize what you'd said when you came out and saw that coffee?"
Kate stared at him with a deer in the headlights look.
"No. Not at the time, no," she said in a surprised tone. "I suppose I might have if I'd had time to think about it. But I had to catch up with all the paperwork of the day, and then you came back acting really weird."
Tears came to her eyes.
"And I found out why two days ago."
XXXXXX
By some unspoken agreement, they left it there. Kate was wrung out, just picking at the remains of her meal, unconsciously rubbing the scar on her chest.
Rick eyed her, trying to gauge where the detective's mind was.
"Anything new on the case?"
"Would you like dessert?"
Twin shy smiles adorned their faces at the simultaneous speech.
"Sounds good, what do you have?"
"Found some kind of code."
This time they both chuckled.
"Go ahead, Kate," Rick gestured.
"About which topic?" she teased.
"Dessert of course," Rick replied. "Sating my sweet tooth is indubitably important, Beckett."
Kate's bark of laughter was genuine, and Castle was once again struck by how in sync they were even with the justifiable anger between the two.
"Well, since you used a five-dollar word, Castle." Kate stood and went to the refrigerator, pulling out two bowls, one piled high with fresh strawberries, the other with strawberries prepared with sugar. She then opened the pantry and took out a medium sized shortcake and grabbed a knife out of the block to start slicing.
"Oh crap," she said turning back to the refrigerator. "Would you grab the whipped cream out of the fridge?"
"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that, Beckett," Rick replied with waggling eyebrows.
Kate scoffed and rolled her eyes. She was also thinking along the lines as Castle was. It seemed they were on their way back to being 'them', but pessimist that she was, Kate wondered when things would devolve again. She couldn't quite accept that Rick was so forgiving of her. Yes, he had done so before, but this? Suddenly her 'working to fix myself' seemed shallow.
Castle noticed her smile fall.
"Kate, let it go for now."
Her head shot up and her knife stilled.
"How do you do that, Castle? Read my mind like that?" She went back to assembling their dessert.
"Years of reading your poker face, Beckett. I know your tells pretty well by now."
"Really? Maybe we'll have to get the cards out sometime."
"I do enjoy your taste in gummy bears."
The two grinned at each other over the memory of that long-ago game at her desk in the precinct. God, Kate hoped they could get to that same ease again. She looked down at the mound of strawberries and cake on the counter, her smile growing at her flashback of that time. Didn't she still 'hate' him then? She couldn't remember when her annoyance (it never was 'hate') turned to 'meh, he's not bad', to real friendship, to the wonderful yet terrifying idea of being in love with him. She'd never forgive herself for ruining them if they couldn't fix this. Dammit, she hated being broken.
Pulling herself out of her musings, Kate nodded at the writer to take the forks, napkins and the whipped cream, Kate lifted both plates of shortcake and carried them to the table, licking juice off her thumb after she set them down.
"Have a seat," she said as she walked to the coffee table and picked up the file she'd been working on before dinner. "And don't hog all the whipped cream, Castle."
She laughed at Castle's scandalized look.
"I would never, Beckett!" he exclaimed.
"Uh-huh," she replied, handing him the file. "Here's what we have so far on the case. I'd like to hear some of your crazy theories on what we've got."
XXXXXX
W4-1949-898
Rick picked up the paper with the code for the third time, eyeing it thoughtfully.
"What are you thinking, Castle?"
He shoveled a bite of shortcake in his mouth.
"I'm not sure," he mumbled around the whipped cream and strawberries. "Something about this seems familiar."
He swallowed and looked up at Kate.
"I feel like I've seen something like this recently, but I can't quite put my finger on it."
"Have you been researching a book and ran across it online or something? Kate asked.
Rick's eyes lit up but then lost some of that luster.
"No… No, not online." He frowned.
"But some kind of research?" Beckett pressed. The look in his eyes had told her there might be something there.
"Maybe…" Castle began.
"What have you been up to lately – where you might have found something that you could use in a novel?" Kate kept on trying to get them back to their theory building. She wanted that back. "If not online… What?"
"The only thing I've done recently is go to Vegas…" he trailed off, then said; "I just needed someo... thing less complicated."
Kate's face fell. She heard what he was going to say before 'correcting' himself. Damn.
"I-I see," she stammered. "And did you find 'something' less complicated in Vegas?" She tried to put snark into her tone to mask the defeat she felt, but she wasn't sure she succeeded.
Rick sighed.
"I wasn't there long enough to really do anything, but I tried," he said, going for honesty. He put the paper back on the table and looked the detective in the eye. "I tried, Beckett, but I couldn't. I chatted up a flight attendant on the way there…" The light came back into his eyes, as if he realized something, but continued his thought. "There was no spark. Jacinda was nice; personable – but she wasn't you."
Kate looked down, trying to keep the tears back. She was happy (wasn't she?) that he didn't 'do' anything; but she couldn't deny the pain she felt that he wanted to.
God you're an idiot, Kate.
"In fact," Rick cleared his throat and picked up the code again. "It was you asking what I've been doing that reminded me why this code is familiar."
Kate looked back up at him, confused.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"W4-1949-898 is the code for a diplomatic pouch. Jacinda explained it to me."
"How in the world did that come up while you were 'chatting up' this stewardess?" Kate asked, with a little more sarcasm than she intended.
"Sorry, Castle." She looked down at her plate, avoiding his eyes.
Castle pursed his lips, but said only, "The current nomenclature is 'flight attendant', but as I just said, there was no real stimulation, no real chemistry."
Kate blushed at her jealousy.
"Then another flight attendant passed by with a package that… I don't know… looked official?" He made a face, feeling like that wasn't quite the right word. "Something that didn't look like a regular passenger would have on a plane. It looked a bit like a FedEx package to be honest. So, being the curious human that I am, I asked Jacinda what it was."
"And she told you."
"Why not? It's not as if she told me what was inside. Of course, she probably didn't know that herself."
"And you're sure that's what this code means?"
Castle pulled his phone out of his pocket, pushed a few buttons and brought up a Word document.
"Best app ever," he mentioned. "Now let's see here…"
He perused the document for a moment, speaking when he found what he was looking for.
"All right," Rick handed Kate the phone, pointing at the relevant information. "Now, Jacinda probably shouldn't have told me all of this, but…"
"You managed to weasel it out of her anyway," Kate broke in with a smirk. It wasn't meant as a dig, and she hoped he wouldn't take it that way.
"I've always felt that the family Mustelidae gets a bad rap," he replied, letting her know that he understood she was just trying to get their banter back the best way she knew how.
He wanted that too.
"Anyway, as you can see, the last three digits are a reference to a particular airline." He took his phone back and scrolled a bit. "Here we are," he turned the phone to her again. "You see? The 898 is a reference code for Royal Eastern Airlines."
"Which means the pouch was delivered on an airline," Kate broke in.
"Exactly. The W4 refers to the size of the pouch, the 1949 indicates exactly which pouch it is in the consulate sequence."
"And as the Deputy General, Nigel signs for all the pouches." Kate thought a moment. "So then maybe this wasn't about an affair gone wrong between Nigel and Naomi."
Their shared brain kicked in.
"It's about smuggling," they said together and grinned.
"Well that makes a lot of sense,' Castle said. "Diplomatic pouches are sealed and their contents bypass TSA and customs inspections."
Kate nodded. "Naomi must have realized what Wyndham was doing somehow. We need to know what was in that pouch, but the consulate's never going to release that information."
She frowned, thinking.
"Well we don't have to worry about the Consulate," Rick replied. "The airline keeps a copy of the waybill."
Kate stood and picked up her own phone.
"We need to fill in Colin and the boys," she said, grabbing her keys and purse. "Let's head for the precinct."
"Kate," Castle laughed. "It's 10:00 at night… On your day off."
She stopped in her tracks, then laughed at herself.
"I guess I got a little excited. It feels like there's more at stake here than just this case…" She looked up at him a stricken expression on her face. What a horrible thing to think. Did she just want this case done so she could work on her pathetic love life? She mentally set her jaw.
No. Naomi Allen deserved more. She deserved justice. And Colin Hunt deserved justice for his friend.
But she still couldn't help but ask the $24,000 question.
"Are we…" She paused. "Are we good, Castle? Are we back?"
Rick gazed at her a moment, one arm in his jacket.
"I don't know, Beckett," he said. "But I think we might be on our way."
Kate gave him a hopeful smile.
"Now I should go. I'm sure Alexis wants to pick my brain about tonight." He paused, thinking. "And Mother, too." He grimaced.
"I hope they don't hate me," Kate said. "I wouldn't blame them if they did."
"They're not happy with you, Kate," Castle replied honestly. "But hate is a strong word, and I think we've made progress here tonight." He smiled at the detective. "I'll tell them that."
With that he opened the door and left, leaving Beckett to lock it behind him and think about his words.
XXXXXX
A/N 2: What did you think? I hope you liked it. I'm sorry I didn't bring up Beckett's mother's case, I completely forgot when I really got into the discussion. It WILL be visited though, don't worry :)