Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional.
Week Two
"Welcome back," Beckett says as she hands Lanie a glass of wine before wandering over to her couch, "how was home?"
"Oppressive," Lanie answers with pursed lips. "I go home for two reasons," she says with broken patience, pausing for a desperate gulp of wine. "To remind myself of why I live so far away from my parents, and to see them just enough that they don't feel the need to visit me here. Ugh!" she says in frustration, taking another large swallow of wine and holding out the glass for a top-up. Beckett raises her brows, surprised that Lanie's asking for more before she could even take a sip.
"If I hear one more when question, I'm going to scream," Lanie promises as Beckett walks back to grab the bottle from the counter.
"When question?" Beckett asks as she returns with the bottle and refills Lanie's glass.
"When am I going to settle down? Because I can't possibly be happy if I'm single. When am I going to start popping out grand-babies? Because they're ready for them, even if I'm not. When am I going to leave the dirty, corrupt city and move back home?" Lanie parrots, growing more exercised with each question. "When am I going to give myself a Y-incision to make it all stop?!"
"Sounds like quite a trip," Beckett says in a commiserating tone, trying to support her friend. "Not exactly the preferred use of 'vacation' days."
"Not at all," Lanie agrees fervently. "Though," she says with a sly voice and a lifted brow, "writer boy's got a much better idea of how to spend vacation time, doesn't he?"
"Nice segue, Lanie. So, you got your card, then?" Beckett asks, surprised that Lanie's sat on the topic of Castle's departure for this long. She assumed that Lanie didn't know about it yet, since she hadn't broached the topic. "Are you headed for Vegas, too?"
"You're going to Vegas?" Lanie asks, forgetting about her trip.
"No, the boys are. Driving hot cars by day and gambling by night," she answers with an indulgent look. "They're so excited they can't sit still. They should be completely strung out by the time they get back."
"Oh," Lanie answers, noticing that Beckett still hasn't shared her gift. "No, it's Puerto Vallarta for me," she admits sheepishly. At Beckett's shocked look, she explains. "There're always medical conferences there, because it's an easy sell to get doctors to take time off if they get to go somewhere nice. Every year I put in a funding request, and every year it gets shot down. OCME will give me the time, but they won't cover food, travel, or lodging. I don't know how Castle found out about it," she says with a curious look, "but I'm all over the next conference. Already got the time approved," she says with a smile.
Beckett looks happy for her friend as she sits on the couch, but she remains quiet. Finally, Lanie can't take it anymore.
"Alright, already. What'd he get you?" she asks, putting her friend on the spot.
"A trip," Beckett says vaguely, hoping that'll be sufficient. Lanie's expression dispels that notion quickly. "To an exclusive resort in Florida. On the beach. For two."
"Waitaminute," Lanie breaks in. "He's sending you away for a romantic trip with Josh? Or was he hoping for…"
"No," Beckett cuts Lanie off. "He was just trying to make me happy," she admits in a quiet voice. "He said he just wants me to be happy."
"Kate, I was only gone for a week. What in the hell happened?" Lanie asks, trying to catch up on developments. "And why didn't you call me?"
"It's been a hell of a week, Lanie," Beckett confesses, shocking herself and her friend with the tear that escapes. "Everything's gone wrong."
"Kate," Lanie says kindly as she stands so that she can sit right next to Beckett, pulling her into a sideways hug with an arm around her shoulder. "Tell me what that man did to mess everything up."
"He left," Beckett answers sadly, laying her head on her friend's shoulder. "I was so upset, Lanie, and so angry," she says with a sigh as she runs a hand through her hair. "I was angry he left and angry he didn't tell me in advance, even though he tried and I told him to leave me alone," she finishes in a low tone, admitting that she feels bad about not talking with Castle when he tried to reach out. "So I went to see him. He explained why he was leaving," she says before taking a long pause. "Then he explained why he can't see me anymore."
"Kate?" Lanie prompts, surprised already at how serious this conversation has become.
"He said it might be a good thing that he was forced to leave, that his… attraction to me wouldn't have let him walk away. He said," she starts before sitting up and pausing to swallow, "he said… well, he almost said exactly how he felt about me. And then he said he just wanted me to be happy, wanted me to make things work with Josh."
"That doesn't sound like him," Lanie says in surprise. "When you were with Tom, he didn't exactly step aside."
"That's part of the reason he's stepping away now," Beckett answers. "He said it was selfishness, that he might not be able to stop himself from doing it again if he stuck around. And since I'd said that I wanted things to work with Josh, he was trying to give me what he thought I needed."
"Now, hold on," Lanie says with a raised hand. "You're all over the place. You said you wanted things to work with Josh? To Castle? When?!"
"Another when question, Lanie?" Beckett tries to joke in distraction. When Lanie's sour look signals her failure, Beckett sighs. "It was during the bombing case, the one with DHS. It just feels like I'm finally in a place to maybe try for something that lasts."
"Okay, I can see that," Lanie acknowledges, "in general. You've kind of mellowed in the last few years. I'm sure Castle being here during that time is just coincidental," she says with admirably-contained sarcasm. "But what's this bit about 'what he thought I needed'?"
"You know how I spent my extra time off after the case, when you decided to go home?" Beckett asks her friend without waiting for an answer. "I spent it thinking," she says with a sigh, then takes the last swallow of wine. "Thinking about what I want – in my job, in my future. Thinking about who I want," she confesses.
"Okay," Lanie encourages, "that's not bad. What did that thinking tell you?"
"That Castle was right." Beckett sighs from the admission, the grabs the neck of the wine bottle roughly as if the speed of her refill was of critical importance.
"Girl, you'd better explain 'cause I'm lost again."
"Why am I with Josh?" Beckett asks rhetorically. "Castle'd say inertia, because it's a 'cool word,'" she says in his intonation, "and it exculpates my behavior with a scientific principle," she says with a small smile. "But the real answer is fear. I was afraid to get involved with Castle a year ago. I was afraid to share things with Josh in case the relationship actually turned real. And I was afraid to let go of a safe relationship to take a chance with Castle. And now it's all falling apart."
Lanie looks confused, suddenly confronted with a talkative Beckett and too many conversational topics to pursue. Grasping at one before her friend grows reticent, she starts where her attention was first snared. "What was Castle right about?"
"He said that he's my emotional partner, while Josh is the physical."
"I can see where that'd make him upset," Lanie says with a look of disapproval, "but I expected more of him."
"He wasn't complaining about our lack of a physical connection," Beckett clarifies quickly. "In fact, he didn't sound jealous at all. He just said it wasn't fair to either of them – that each had an incomplete piece of me, and that I could I always run away to the other."
Looking up from her glass, Beckett sees her friend looking at her warily.
"He was right," she says again, prompting a sigh from Lanie who clearly wanted to agree but didn't want to risk upsetting her friend. "So, he's stepping aside, giving me what he thinks I want – a chance for a full relationship with Josh. One where I can share," she nearly chokes on the word, "all the details of my life, all the parts I haven't trusted him with."
Lanie sits quietly for a few long moments, looking at her friend and wondering how everything can get so complicated. Humor, she remembers, always seemed to work for Castle, even when he and Beckett were at odds. So, she tries for the same approach he might use.
"I thought Castle wrote mysteries," Lanie says quietly, "not romances."
"This isn't a romance," Beckett corrects, sounding bereft. "It's a tragedy."
"Why?" Lanie interjects. She doesn't know Josh well, but Beckett hasn't mentioned many complaints before now. "Josh must be happy about this, right? I don't remember him being a big fan of Castle or the time that you two spent together."
"He wasn't," Beckett agrees. "He never said as much, but he pretty much hated Castle, his books or his presence. Josh is a pretty competitive guy, and he didn't like having a potential rival around."
"So, what?" Lanie asks, not sure where this is going. "Is he gloating or something?"
"Not really," Beckett answers, looking like she's struggling to articulate her concern. "That's kind of what I expected, that he'd strut around like an alpha male, thinking that he'd driven Castle off." Lanie tilts her head and wonders if Beckett hears the disdain in her own voice as she's speaking. "But instead he just kind of seems withdrawn, like a game ended and he's not sure what to do next."
Noticing Lanie's raised-brow look of surprise, Beckett decides to give her a bigger surprise. "And guess what he said on Friday, while we were having dinner?" she says while waving a hand toward the kitchen.
Lanie's not willing to guess, urging her friend on with one hand while taking a drink with the other.
"He said 'I guess you'll want to move in now.' Just like that," she says, taking another drink herself while Lanie gapes like a fish.
"He didn't," Lanie contradicts after closing her mouth. When Beckett just nods, Lanie takes another drink before setting her glass on the table. "And he's still alive?"
"I was too shocked to hurt him. I mean, the nerve of him, right? I wasn't sure if I was more offended by his assumption that I'd move in with him or that without Castle I'd just default into seeking shelter from the only remaining man in my life," Beckett grumbles. "And don't even get me started on what the whole 'I guess you'll want' business means about his feelings on the subject."
"Well," Lanie says after standing and looking conspicuously around Beckett's apartment, "it doesn't look like you're packing up for an imminent departure. Or doing anything to make room for him here."
"No," Beckett says resolutely. "We're leaving things the way they are for now."
"Why?" Lanie says, catching Beckett off guard. "I don't mean why aren't you moving in together, but why are you together at all? I'm sorry, Kate, but you haven't sounded like someone who's invested in a relationship."
"I'm not sure we are together," Beckett confesses. "We're spending a few days apart to kind of let things settle down, then we'll see where things stand."
"And Castle?" Lanie prompts, not letting her friend off the hook.
"He's off at his new job," she answers bitterly. "Some big secret where he's working on a new character to replace Nikki."
"Kate," Lanie says soothingly, "you know damn well that nothing will replace Nikki, or you. Sounds like he's trying to stay busy so that he doesn't get in your way. He set you free, Kate, and you know what that means."
"No," Beckett disagrees. "He's not waiting for me to come back. He made it clear that he wants some time alone," she explains sadly. "Two months. To get over me."
"Won't work," Lanie disagrees with confidence. "Since the day he started at the precinct he's been thrilled to see you. I don't see that changing anytime soon. And," she drawls out, "why give him the time to get over you? If things with Josh don't work out, or if you decide that it's not worth trying to work them out, why wait two months to see him?"
"Because I burned that bridge," Beckett confesses, "or maybe blew it to smithereens. I meant to tell Castle that maybe Josh wasn't an issue."
With a look that makes it clear she might've already figured this out, Lanie probes for details. "If that's what you meant to tell him, what did you actually say?"
"Oh, Lanie, it came out all wrong," Beckett confesses. "It sounded like I'd come to Castle if things with Josh didn't work out."
"Wait, wait, wait," Lanie says, holding out her hand with palm facing Beckett. "You told the man who's had two wives walk out on him that he'd be your second choice? Oh, Kate," she says, shaking her head. "What a mess."
The ladies drink in glum silence for a few moments until Beckett takes a deep breath. Lanie puts her glass down and focuses on her friend, who looks pensive. "You're thinking about something. Tell."
"Well," Beckett says slowly, "I've been thinking that whatever slim chance I've got of keeping Castle in my life – as a friend or something more – goes back to the precinct. So," she confesses, "I've been thinking that maybe that's where I should start."
"I'm getting seriously offended by your lack of interest in me," Castle hears over the din of blaring music. Turning, he looks up to see a woman with pale blond hair casting him a challenging look, hands on hips and foot tapping. It's a pose he recognizes well, though he doesn't know for the life of him what he's done to deserve it from this stranger.
"I think you'll survive," he answers, standing to offer her a chair. As she slips into the seat, he gives the waitress a subtle hand gesture to get another round of drinks delivered.
"I'm serious," his new friend continues as he sits down again. "I've seen you looking at me, but aside from the farm boy over there," she says while nodding to one of Castle's colleagues over by the jukebox, "you're the only one from your group who hasn't hit on me."
"Don't take Tommy's lack of interest personally. He's getting married in April. All hope would die and angels would lose their wings if he tried to mess around. Plus, we'd have to kill him. As for me," Castle says with a playfully intrigued look, "we both know that any effort on my part would be wasted on you."
"Oh, really?" she replies, returning his look with her piercing blue eyes and accepting the challenge. "And why is that? You think you're too big for me?" she asks while comically flexing her arms in a parody of a bodybuilder. "Too interested in chatting with your friends?" she says as she looks pointedly at the vacated chairs around the table, their former occupants chatting women up all throughout the upscale bar. "Or maybe you're too old?" she says, pinning him with a look while obviously fishing for a reaction. "Too old to remember how to play the game, or too old to be able to follow through if you win?"
"Please," Castle says with a roll of his eyes. "We both know my limitation," he says as he lowers his voice and leans in, compelling her to do the same to hear his retort. "Even though I'm very big," he says with a perched brow and sinful voice. "And even though I'm exceptionally experienced," he whispers, drawing her even closer "neither of those things is a limitation."
"So, what is it?" she whispers back, so close to him that he can feel the tickle of her words on his face.
"My limitation," he confides as he looks into her eyes, "is that I'm too male."
Eyes widening in shock at his insight, his new friend leans back in her chair after taking a quick look around. "What are you, a detective or something?"
"No," Castle says with certainty after barking a laugh. "No, I am absolutely not a detective," he repeats, looking wistful. "I'm just a kindred spirit. I suspect you and I are here for the same reasons tonight."
"We might both be nursing broken hearts, but I'm not here to play Peter Pan, setting my pack of Lost Boys loose on the women of New York," she says with a sweeping gesture around the bar. This time, a few of Castle's group look back or nod, obviously interested in how Castle managed to chat up the most beautiful woman in the place without leaving his chair. "Although," she says with a pause, looking at Castle closely again, "you're not actually their leader, are you? They seem to expect you to be, but they don't know you well, do they?"
"Now who's the detective?" Castle answers with a smile, impressed by her assessment of the dynamics at play. "I'm the new guy, just joined up last week. This is maybe our third time out."
"The new guy's gotta buy the drinks?" she guesses.
"Among other requirements," Castle says with a grumble, pointedly not satisfying his new friend's look of curiosity. Thankfully, her follow-up is cut short by the arrival of the drinks Castle ordered.
"Is this a mid-life crisis career change, then?" she asks boldly as she toasts Castle for the drink and takes a sip.
"It's more of a temporary thing," he replies with a wry smile, ignoring another crack about his age. "I'm a writer. I'm hoping that spending some time with these guys will give me new stories to tell."
"I think the kind of stories these guys have to share," she says acerbically while looking around again, "would be tall tales of sexual exploits. Is that your thing?" she asks with a wicked look.
"To read, maybe," Castle returns her serve, "but not to write. I'm more into character studies. What about you?"
"I like to study characters, too," she teases, pulling another laugh from Castle. "That's another reason I came over."
Castle cocks his head as if scanning her, doing so long enough to win a pointed return look. "But you're not a writer," he says. "You don't know the secret handshake. So, attorney?"
"No," she replies with a laugh, "though mom and dad would've been happy if you were right. I'm the client relations director at Aegis Marketing."
"So, you sell the people who sell things," Castle summarizes to the delighted surprise of his guest, who looks impressed that he recognized her firm and understands her job.
"The name's Keates," she says happily, looking surprised again when he slaps his forehead with an open palm.
"Of course it is," he laments to himself.
"Fred Keates, to my friends," his new friend continues, wondering why her companion had such a strong reaction to her surname. But now he looks curious, which seems to be his default state.
"Fred?" Castle asks, looking intrigued. "It might be a low hurdle, but you're definitely the hottest Fred I've ever met. Nickname, or is this an inverse 'boy-named-Sue' situation?"
"Court-ordered change, actually," she says while looking at him playfully. "My given name's actually Winnifred. I used to go by 'Winnie,' until one too many people called me 'Pooh Bear' and I snapped."
"Pooh Bear?" Castle answers, a teasing look firmly in place. "I don't see it. Maybe if we could dip you in some honey…"
"Says the guy I suspect is the human incarnation of Tigger," Fred laughs as Castle tips his head in acknowledgment.
"My daughter agrees with you," Castle laughs. "She thinks that's where she got her red hair."
"I've gotta say, you have a very odd seduction technique," Fred offers as Castle takes a drink. "Ignore me, tell me you've got a daughter, tease me about my name, and don't give me yours," she says with a raised brow. "Maybe I should come up with a name for you."
"Rick," Castle offers promptly, anxious to avoid anything Tigger-related. "Rick Rodgers," he says as she extends his hand for an introductory shake. "But I thought we'd already worked out that there's no seduction attempt going on here. You're not interested and I'm not ready."
"Back to the women who broke our hearts, huh?" Fred asks with a tone of compassion. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
"There's nothing to tell, I'm afraid," Castle sighs before taking another drink. "Unrequited love. It's not like I lost something I ever had."
"Not true," Fred says quickly and earnestly. "Losing an unrequited love might hurt the most," she says, making Castle think she's speaking from experience. "Everything is still perfect, ideal. To go from that to nothing? That hurts. It might not be a lost relationship, but it's lost hope. Sometimes I wonder if that doesn't leave a deeper scar."
Remaining quiet, Castle takes another drink while nodding slowly. "You, too?"
"Not this time," Fred says with a sigh. "Just the usual stuff for me. Commitment issues, incompatible life goals, discomfort about going public. Nothing I haven't seen before. Sucks."
"That it does," Castle agrees with a nod. "But you don't have to hide the truth from me, you know," he says with a quick glance at her. "I'm a stranger, a nobody. Walk out that door and you never have to see me again. So, you could talk about what's really bothering you if you'd like."
"I thought you were a writer, not a psychologist?" Fred pushes. "Okay, hotshot, what's really bothering me?" Fred asks, her head cocked to the side, challenging her new friend to explain.
"You're hurting," Castle says quietly, "wondering if there's something about you that led to the end of your relationship. Wondering if someone else, or the possibility of someone else, contributed to your partner's side of the breakup." At this, Fred's eyes grow watery and she looks down, staring at her hands on the table. "You wanted to feel beautiful and desired tonight. And you are, obviously," he says with a smile, trying to encourage her to cheer up. "You came here to remind yourself that you're attractive, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."
When Fred continues to look down, Castle tries to jostle her for a response. "And that's why," he drawls out, "you felt compelled to see why the most stunning man you've ever encountered had the audacity to leave you alone." Emboldened by her huff of a laugh, Castle cajoles just a little bit more. "Just because I'm not pursuing a relationship right now and just because I know my advances would be rebuffed doesn't mean that I'm blind to your beauty, you know."
"Thanks," Fred mumbles, finally looking up. "You must be one hell of a storyteller," she mumbles as she plays with her drink. "Can we shift the focus to you for a little bit?" she asks, looking anxious to regain her balance. "You're cute, buff, well-dressed, and articulate. You could have a number of admirers and I'd think you'd be looking to go a little wild to get over your heartbreak."
"I'm trying something new," Castle answers with a self-deprecating huff. "I seem to find myself in this situation every few years," he confesses, staring at the hands that he's using to hold onto his drink. "In the past, I've cut loose enough that 'going a little wild' would be a cute but completely insufficient description."
"What's changed?" Fred asks, looking curious. "Your daughter?"
Castle's already nodding. "Yes, definitely. She's put up with an awful lot from me over the years and she's old enough to be fully aware of and mortally shamed by misbehavior on my part," he says with an abashed shrug. "Old enough that I'm definitely keeping her away from this lot," he says with a nod to the bar and the guys he'd come in with. "But it's also lost its appeal. I think," he speaks slowly, as if coming to this conclusion as he's thinking out loud, "acting like that usually made me feel worse, not better, even if I didn't realize it right away." Mulling this thought while he takes another drink, he nods as he decides it's accurate. "I'm trying to be better."
"Tell you what," Fred says in a bracing tone. "Let's help each other out. I can hang out with you so that you have a friend. Given my preferences, you won't have to worry about relapsing," she says while waggling her eyebrows, pulling a laugh out of Castle. "And you can take me dancing. That'll help me unwind."
"What kind of dancing?" Castle asks suspiciously as if Fred's trying to pull a fast one on him.
Looking confused, she shrugs. "What do you mean, what kind? The kind where the DJ plays music and we move to the beat. Pop dancing, I guess."
"Okay," Castle says gamely. "I come from an acting family, so I can do a creditable impression of an epileptic seizure," he declares, causing Fred to choke on her drink. "But next time, we do some kind of real dancing."
"Next time, huh?" Fred challenges. "You seem awfully confident. And what, exactly, counts as a 'real' dance?"
"Guess you'll have to stick around to find out," he answers glibly, prompting an eye roll that dampens his playful mood by reminding him of Beckett.
Noticing his curdled smile, Fred stands quickly and grabs Castle's hand, tugging him up out of his chair. "Come on, Rick," she encourages. "Take me dancing," she says slyly as she steps into his side and grasps his arm. "Let's settle up at the bar and let your guys see you taking me away. They want to look up to you, so we'll let them draw whatever conclusions they want from our departure. Boost your reputation a bit."
"Trust me, Fred," Castle says with a confident laugh, "There's not much I can do to affect my reputation these days. But if they're going to tease me anyway, I might as well have some fun."
"Detective Beckett, it's a pleasure to see you again," Mayor Weldon welcomes graciously, taking the hand-off from his secretary. Rather than return to sit behind the bulk of his desk, Weldon instead spins his two guest chairs to face each other before motioning for Beckett to take a seat. He's still lowering himself into the other guest chair when Beckett replies in kind.
"Thank you, Mayor Weldon," she says with equal grace. "I very much appreciate you making the time to see me."
"Nonsense," Weldon replies with a wave of his hand. "And regardless of your answer, please call me Bob," he prefaces. "But are we here today to talk about the mayor's office and the NYPD, or about our mutual friend?" he asks with a raised brow.
"Both, I think," Beckett replies, earning a smile. "Castle told me about the situation that led to his departure from the precinct, and I want to make sure I understand the situation and can take steps to pave the way for his return."
Weldon nods along with her explanation, looking impressed. "Certainly," he enthuses, "But first, I owe you an apology," Weldon says, to Beckett's surprise. "I know very, very well what a pain in the ass my friend can be," he says with a laugh, "but he's also a hell of a guy – he's dependable, loyal, and his brain's even smarter than his mouth. And he's usually a lot of fun, too. I suspect I deprived your team of something useful when I asked him to leave."
"Thank you," Beckett replies, moved by the apology. She wonders, briefly, if she's being played by a politician, but dismisses the thought. This is Castle's friend, and she's going to extend some faith. "He's missed already and it's only been two weeks," she admits.
"Rick told you about DA Turner, then?" Bob asks, relaxing into his chair while Beckett nods. "Well, let's talk about how to get him back," Weldon suggests pragmatically. "Turner hasn't done anything yet. In fact, he hasn't even formally announced his interest, though that's coming soon, probably next week. I like to think that our little adjustment forced him to reconsider his timing."
Beckett nods again and jumps in. From his surprised look, the Mayor isn't used to having his agenda hijacked. "I was thinking about that," Beckett confesses. "The delay doesn't really help us, though, does it? Even if he doesn't attack you about your appointees when he announces his candidacy, he could still raise it as an issue if Castle came back, right? So this is really about all the time before the election, not just the next month or two."
"That's possible," Weldon admits, "though unlikely. Look, let's talk plainly," he says to dispense with some of the usual political posturing. "I'm the presumptive favorite. I'm the incumbent. I've got the backing of the party, the schools, and the union. This is New York City – he's not getting anywhere without those, so his candidacy can't last. What he's really doing is establishing his name now so that when I move on, he's in position to claim my place. Unless I screw up somehow in this campaign, in which case we're all screwed," he says with a shrug. "So, I don't think we're talking about all the way to the election," he says, noticing that Beckett doesn't look satisfied with his answer. "We might be able to accelerate Rick's return…"
"If we can show that he's an asset to the city?" Beckett interjects, prompting Weldon to look taken aback again. "I secured approval from my captain to pull all our cases since Castle started assisting. I've started building a file on Castle's performance at the precinct, something we can use to show how much he's helped. Would something like that be enough for Castle to come back even if Turner's still running?"
"Maybe," Weldon hedges as he thinks about the possibility. "It'd have to be a pretty compelling story. In fact, we might want to treat it like that," Weldon thinks aloud. "Maybe we could get his agent, what's-her-name…"
"Paula," Beckett supplies readily.
"Yeah, Paula," Weldon agrees. "If your data are good, maybe Paula could tempt one of the papers into doing a story about police consultants where Rick's performance is called out. We'd have to gauge the reaction to the story," he hedges again, "but it's a possibility…," he trails off, thinking.
Beckett's about to interject again when he speaks, smirking that he's grabbed the floor and getting an embarrassed grin in return. "What about the work Castle's done – has he ever testified or directly engaged with the DA's office?"
"No, not yet," Beckett says sadly. "Which is something I regret now. Before all this," she says with a wide gesture to take in the mayor's office, "we thought it best to minimize his appearances in the paperwork to avoid upsetting the DA's office. Fat lot of good that did," she trails off, annoyed anew by the circumstances.
Weldon's nodding in acknowledgement of the point when the door to his office opens and his secretary peeks through. "Sir, your 4:00 is here."
"Just a few minutes," Weldon says. His secretary nods and departs, closing the door behind her. Beckett's moving to stand when Weldon holds out a hand to encourage her to remain in place. "He can wait," he explains, "this is important."
Beckett, feeling a wave of affection for the mayor, decides that he's earned her vote on his own terms, where she'd previously just voted for him on Castle's recommendation.
"Two things," he says. "I've got an intern from NYU. Hannah Simmons. She's great at analytics and efficient, too – I can't keep her busy. Give her three weeks and she'll build a multi-media presentation that would sing his praises so loudly that even Rick would be embarrassed. I'll get her contact information to you and ask her to help compile and summarize Rick's case information."
"That would be great," Beckett says, surprised by this offer.
"Hold on, that's just the good news," Weldon replies, looking pensive.
"So, your second point is bad news?" Beckett asks, wondering where this is going.
"Maybe," Weldon replies. "Rick's been a little… off… recently. I told him that I'm going to assume it's the fallout from the bomb and his sudden removal from your team, but I'm not sure that's what's really bothering him," she says while fixing Beckett with a penetrating stare.
"It's been a rough month," Beckett mumbles, prompting a slow nod from Weldon.
"Whatever the cause," he says, "Rick's made some unusual choices lately. You know that he's got a side project now, right?"
"I know he set something up to keep himself busy, to… explore a new character," she stumbles. "He asked me not to look into what he's up to, and I felt like I had to agree."
"You'll know soon enough," Weldon sighs. "I love my friend, but I don't think he knows how to keep a low profile. Or stay out of trouble. So, we'll probably hear from him soon," he says with a huff. "I know he promised to stay in his new arrangement for three months," he says, causing Beckett to sigh sadly in confirmation of Castle's side project, "but the sooner we get him back where he belongs, the better."
A/N: Posting a little early in case anyone wants to give this a look while traveling this weekend. Happy Memorial Day Weekend to those of you in the US. I'm hoping to get some writing done this weekend, which would mean the next update would be on Tuesday, but Week Three will be up by Friday at the latest.
