Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional, uncompensated, or are in the public domain.
Still wondering about the unorthodox date-night Castle suggested, Beckett drifts off the elevator after arriving on the Homicide floor. Movement in her peripheral vision catches her attention before she can start to type a reply, causing her to look up as Ryan and Esposito move briskly towards her. She's about to ask what's going on when Espo darts by her, catching the elevator doors as they were about to close.
"We need to hit the range," Ryan explains as he taps the holster on his hip. Beckett knits her brows but nods in reply, turning to step back into the elevator as she casually locks the communication device and slips it back into her pocket.
"What's going on?" she asks after the doors close and the elevator begins its descent into the basement.
"Kev says he needs to shoot somethin'," Esposito offers gruffly as both he and Ryan shake their heads to discourage further questions.
First Burke and now the boys, Beckett thinks to herself. What the hell is going on today?!
But, Beckett gamely follows, repaying the kindness they offered her when she asked them to a conference room to explain why she was walking away from the Cambridge case. They remain quiet during the elevator ride, disembarking on the ground floor and heading towards the firing range.
Just inside the door, Ryan dips his head to gesture to an alcove to the right. The Range Master holds up earphones, shrugging and rolling his eyes when the trio waves him off. There's only one stall in use now, at the far end of the alley, so the noise isn't yet unpleasant.
"What's going on?" Beckett asks, barely speaking before Espo's curiosity prompted him to ask the same question.
Ryan looks around a bit, making then breaking eye contact with his teammates, before rubbing the back of his neck in his discomfort. "I…," he starts, then jolts slightly as the shooter down the lane lets a multi-shot volley burst. Then, blushing at his reaction to the gunfire, he straightens and starts again. "You know I love you guys, right?"
"Uh, Kev?" Esposito reacts uncomfortably. "I don't really…"
"Oh, grow up, Espo," Beckett suppresses quickly before turning back to Ryan. "Kevin, what's wrong?"
"I need to leave," he answers, this time standing tall as more gunfire blares down the range. "You and Espo can take care of yourselves. Hell, I can take care of myself. But, Jenny… Jenny's innocent. I can't draw her into this," he explains earnestly, turning to each teammate with eyes that implore them to understand, "and I can't walk away from her. So, we need to leave."
Beckett's nodding along, trying to offer whatever support she can. After all, she's already spirited her father to safety. It'd be pretty hypocritical for her to ignore Ryan's concern for his fiancé.
Esposito, on the other hand, looks shocked. He's struggling to understand his partner's decision. Or, perhaps he's wrestling with the uncomfortable notion that Ryan's choosing to protect his relationship with Jenny over their partnership. The longer he goes without speaking, the more the tension ramps up for the other teammates.
"I understand," Beckett offers as a way to break the ice, "and I think you're doing the right thing." She's about to offer more when Esposito finally engages.
"Why now?" he asks, still sounding a little bewildered.
"Because I'm an ass," Ryan answers promptly, with a sigh. "I should've gotten her out of here already, as soon as Beckett mentioned why the mayor's under investigation."
"The mayor?" Esposito asks, knitting his brows as he tries to follow his partner's logic. "This is about Weldon?"
"No," Ryan answers, shaking his head and rubbing his neck again. "This is about power. They're going after the mayor, Javi! What kind of chance does Jenny have against people like that? How the hell do I protect her from people who can take out the mayor of the biggest city in the country?!"
With an unhappy sigh, Esposito nods. But Ryan's not done.
"And that's before what happened last night."
At this foreboding declaration, Beckett and Esposito look at each other, wondering what new terror's shaken Ryan.
"Castle's beach house is gone," Ryan answers their curious looks. "Burned to the ground. Just two days after I mentioned that he might not've really sold it."
"Arson?" Beckett asks, though she knows there's little reason to believe otherwise.
Ryan just shrugs. "Too early to tell. But as we've already run across one pyro-for-hire on this case," he says, harkening back to their fruitless investigation into Ray Hudson, "I wouldn't be surprised if they've found another."
"That's why we're here," Esposito thinks aloud, gesturing to the firing range. "You think they heard you tellin' us about Castle selling the Hamptons place to himself?"
"Maybe?" Ryan replies, looking concerned. "Either they heard me, they have access to my computer, or they figured it out on their own. Two of those three options aren't good for us."
"None of them are, actually," Beckett corrects. "It was smart to bring us down here."
"Does Castle know?" Esposito interjects. He looks at Ryan, who turns to look at Beckett.
"I don't know," she admits. "I'm going to see him tonight. We can talk about it then," she suggests, though they have other serious items on the agenda already.
"Will you let him know I'd like to take his offer?" Ryan asks, blushing. "We don't need a million, but I could use a little to help…"
"I'll tell him now," Beckett offers, trying to reassure the younger detective as she extracts the communications device and starts to type while she talks. "Does Jenny know what's going on? Is she ready to go?"
"We're both ready," Ryan admits. "I was already on edge about Weldon. Now they've gone after Castle again, too. I'm really sorry about this," he apologizes to his teammates. "I know Castle said we should all make the same decision, but I don't think either of you are gonna leave," he suggests, nodding when Beckett and Esposito both shake their heads. "Maybe Castle can figure out a way for me to help from wherever we'll be…"
"We'll see what he says," Beckett interrupts, letting Ryan off the hook while also showing confidence in her partner. Esposito frowns, but remains quiet. Beckett notices, but turns back to the device to complete and send her text to Castle:
Ryan needs to take your offer – he's worried about Jenny. Can we arrange this tonight? He wants to help us from wherever he can, but it's more important to keep them safe. We should talk about your Hamptons place, too – what happened to it and what it means. Fun date night, right?
It's a good message, she thinks as she re-reads it, but incomplete. With a faint blush, she adds one more line.
Even with everything else that's going on, I'm looking forward to seeing you again.
"Done," she exclaims as she sends the text without showing it to the boys. Looking up, she sees them casting odd looks at each other. Well, that's not quite right. Ryan's looking at Esposito, trying to gauge his reaction to his decision to leave the team, at least temporarily. Esposito's looking down-range, clearly still trying to figure out how he should react.
"I'm gonna head back upstairs," Beckett offers softly, again trying to jostle some movement but also making her deference to the strange relationship of officer partnerships clear. Perhaps she can nudge him in the right direction. After all, she's still harboring hope that they can somehow, miraculously, go back to normal when all this is done. Castle back at her side, the boys nattering away – it's an odd thing for which to hope, she supposes, but she accepts her dream. And it won't work if Esposito and Ryan's partnership falls apart.
"You're a good man, Kevin Ryan," she assures him, reaching out to rub his shoulder. Then, after stepping over to drop a quick kiss to his cheek, she prepares to take her leave. "And you're making the right decision. Take care of Jenny. We'll take care of the rest."
"Thanks, Beckett," Ryan mumbles, embarrassed and worried. With a nod, Beckett accepts his thanks and turns to leave. Hoping for the best, she leaves the partners to work out their goodbyes.
It's been a tense afternoon, but at least they have an excuse. Not an hour after the discussion in at the firing range, Ryan's phone went off. He took the call quietly, nodding along unobtrusively, but his rigid stance caught the eye of the detectives on his team. Then, standing, he gave each of them a curt nod before walking to Gates' office. There, he explained about the stroke just suffered by his fiancé's grandmother, claiming emergency medical leave. With the expectation of his return in a week, Gates ushered him out of the office with a tone of concern that was as touching as it was surprising.
Thirty minutes later, Beckett feels the communication device in her pocket vibrate with the arrival of a new message. She waits a few minutes before calmly walking to the stairs, availing herself of the restroom on a different floor out of an abundance of caution.
We're taking care of Kevin and Jenny. As for tonight, can you be in front of our coffee place in twenty minutes? It's before your shift ends, but there's something we need to do before tonight's festivities.
She's about to send a reply when instead Beckett emits an unprofessional squeak when the device vibrates in her hand, set off by the arrival of another message. After bending over to see if there are any legs visible in the neighboring stalls, she turns to the new message.
Dress code for tonight is business casual: sexy boots, bad-ass sidearm, and take-no-prisoners attitude. Well, that's for me, you can dress as you like. We'll do fancy clothes and flowers next time, okay?
Blessing her partner's ability to joke even now, she chuckles as she types a quick reply. After all, she's only got twenty minutes to get moving and she still needs to invent an excuse for Gates. And probably Espo, too.
No flowers tonight? You're walking a dangerous line (in your sexy boots).
I'm on my way, see you in twenty.
Gates is surprisingly lenient about allowing Beckett's request to leave early to get to the pharmacy. It was an easy excuse, since having a 'doctor's appointment' earlier in the day was a natural lead-in. With them working on Beckett's cold cases and Ryan's departure, though, Gates probably figures the day's spent already. Whatever the reason, Beckett slips out of the precinct after giving Espo a nod. He probably assumes her departure is related to Ryan's flight, and maybe it is. But she doesn't want to stick around to talk about it, especially since they may now need to worry about some form of surveillance in the precinct.
Looking at her watch as she hustles down the sidewalk, Beckett's a little frustrated. She's going to barely make it on time as it is, and she'd wanted to step in the get some cups of coffee to go. It's a nice reminder of the drinks they used to share, plus – coffee. Whatever happens tonight, caffeine is likely to help.
Thoughts of being a little late in favor of getting those to-go cups are disrupted as a cab swerves next to her at the cross-walk, just one intersection before the shop.
"Get in," Beckett hears the female cabbie call out. She assumes the call-out is for someone else but glances over anyway. Behind the wheel, to her shock, sits the black woman she last saw outside the New Amsterdam Bank and Trust.
Beckett slips into the cab after one more admonishment, casually slipping her gun from the holster as she slides across the seat.
"Ms. Shipton," Beckett greets her driver with a nod. "I'd expected a different driver."
"Castle's occupied," she replies as she pulls into traffic, ignoring the blaring horns and raised middle fingers as naturally as a real cabbie. "He's extracting Ryan and his fiancé, then re-tasking that surveillance detail. We'll meet him afterwards."
"Wait," Beckett interrupts, hand still holding her weapon. "There were people watching Ryan and Jenny?"
"Of course there were," Shipton replies, looking into the rear-view mirror to let Beckett see her eye roll. "Details were assigned as soon as Laura Cambridge died."
"So Kevin didn't need to…"
"Yes, he did," Shipton interrupts. "We're spread thin. We can watch, but if something bad went down, we'd be hard-pressed to reply. His departure will help us rebalance."
"You don't sound happy about this," Beckett observes, picking up on the tone of Shipton's comments. She's heard it from her colleagues, after drawing stake-out details or being asked to cover for a colleague too many times.
"Theirs not to reason why, theirs but to…," Shipton replies in a resigned voice, letting the rest of the familiar mantra fall below the range of audibility.
As Shipton grows quiet, Beckett grows contemplative. Not about her comment – it wouldn't be surprising for Shipton to have a military background or simply a good ear for poetry. Plus, she's also smart enough to throw that out as a distraction for Beckett, to give her something else to think about. But it doesn't really matter, so Beckett doesn't need to worry about it.
Instead, she thinks about the implication of the surveillance details. If Ryan was being watched, then it's a fair bet that she and Espo have watchers, too. And maybe others. Reassigning Ryan's team will help supplement the other teams, but the more people dedicated to defense, the fewer are available for offense. Maybe she should start thinking about taking up Castle's offer, in a way. She could leave the precinct temporarily and spend more time with Castle. It would consolidate their resources, better their odds, and let them be together while they try to end this.
It might have other benefits, too.
She's surprised at how much that last reason – just being back together with Castle – is starting to be the primary consideration. Good thing Shipton's focused on driving, she thinks as she can feel some heat from her blushing cheeks.
Actually, now that she looks around, she recognizes the neighborhood they're in. Either Castle's sense of humor selected their base of operations or they're picking up another passenger.
"As you've probably figured out, we've got another pick-up," Shipton says at that moment, confirming Beckett's assumption. "Don't go up to his office," she instructs, "we don't want you seen up there. Wait in the elevator lobby. He should be down in about ten minutes, then he'll head out these doors to catch the subway. Grab him and get him in the cab."
"What can I tell him?" Beckett asks, suspecting questions, as usual.
"Nothing," is the terse response, "not until he's in the car. Twist his arm, use that gun in your hand, do whatever you need to do. Just get him back in here."
Chagrined that she never holstered her weapon, Beckett does so now.
"I'll circle the block. When I'm back, there'll be two bandanas back there. Once he's in the car, please use them as blindfolds. You can put his on first – whether you let him know that you'll be blindfolded, too, is up to you," Shipton says, sounding almost kind. "But we're on tight schedule, so please don't push me on this."
"What's gonna happen to the Burkes?" Beckett can't help but inquire.
"Depends," Shipton replies with a shrug. "Safest thing would be for them to take a long vacation or 'visit a sick relative.' If he's got patients that can't be without him, then maybe his family takes a trip and we provide him some cover."
Beckett nods, hoping Burke can live with the first option, just from a staffing perspective. She feels petty, but as someone who relies on Burke for help, she'd miss out from his absence too, which gives her some standing for her opinion.
Burke trudges out of the elevator almost exactly ten minutes later. Beckett's never seen her therapist look so defeated. That's probably because he projects an aura of confidence for his patients. But, on his own while thinking his wife's being held somewhere against her will, the therapist looks like a fragile shell. It breaks her heart a bit to see him like this.
"Our ride's outside," she murmurs as she walks to his side and links her arm through his, pulling him toward the door.
"Kate?" he reacts in surprise, trying to slow his stride.
"We need to go for a ride," she repeats with emphasis, increasing the pull on his arm to keep her moving. "I promised you I'd act quickly on what we discussed, remember?"
That's not entirely accurate – her action entailed sending a text message. Still, that prompted other actions that'll bring his situation to resolution, so she thinks it's a fair way to get him moving.
He's still obviously confused and probably a little fearful about what might happen if they're seen together, but Burke lets himself be swept along. Beckett tugs him toward a cab that's generated a little bit of a scene. There's an angry would-be passenger yelling and shaking a fist at the unaffected driver. As Beckett approaches, the cabbie unlocks the doors with an audible clunking sound.
Emboldened, the angry, balding businessman who'd been trying to get into Shipton's cab jumps in front of Beckett and Burke, grabbing the door handle to claim the cab and flashing a smug smile at the pair.
"This is an undercover operation," Beckett growls in a lone tone as she tugs her blazer aside just enough to show her badge and her holster. "Get the hell out of my way now or you'll spend a night in Holding for obstruction. And I'll make sure you're not alone in there. Or lonely."
Her lupine smile is probably more frightening than the threat, but both combined convince Mr. Self-Important to release the door handle as if it was on fire. He stumbles back from the cab, tripping on the curb and landing hard on his backside, much to the delight of others on the sidewalk.
"Not exactly an unnoticed extraction," Shipton grumbles as they slide into the backseat of the cab.
"I don't know," Beckett replies, "fighting over a cab might be the best way to avoid attention. You know, just blending in." Then, turning to Dr. Burke, she notices he still looks a little shell-shocked. "You okay?"
"You're terrifying," Burke confesses, his mind stuck on the way his patient looked while issuing her threat.
Beckett shrugs, surprising unaffected. "Occupational hazard," she explains. "Now, the important stuff. Your wife is safe, we're taking you to her now," she says as she watches him sag in relief. "As you've probably figured out, we've been drawn into something pretty serious. You'll have some decisions to make soon about how to remain safe while we finish this case. Think about that during the drive," she suggests as she reaches for a red bandanna, folding it over several times. "I'm sorry, but part of keeping you safe is making sure you don't know more than you should. Please?"
At her request, Burke takes the bandanna and ties it behind his head.
"There's a hat back there," Shipton says, calling Beckett's attention to the Red Sox baseball caps behind the head-rest. "Put that on, too, so the blindfold isn't so obvious to anyone looking through the windows.
Beckett complies, stifling her chuckle at seeing her staid therapist in a baseball cap. Just to accentuate the ridiculousness, she rotates the hat a bit so the bill points off at an angle, just as it does on the perps the Gangs and Truancy officers haul into the precinct.
"Thanks," Burke grumbles, able to imagine what she's done even while blindfolded.
Beckett just laughs before grabbing her own bandanna. "Don't complain. It could've been a Mets hat."
"Please," Shipton says from the front, her comment all the more ridiculous for being delivered with a British accent. "We want people to look away. That's why it's the Red Sox."
A/N: Many, many thanks for all the comments, PMs, and reviews on this story. And *don't worry* - I won't leave this story unfinished (and still have ideas for what will follow). My writing time is more constrained lately than it has been, but that just means my updates will be a little more infrequent. I'll post more than one chapter at a time when possible (like tonight) to make up for it.