Chapter 4
This was awesome.
Not only was artificial intelligence a thing, but it was so advanced that there was a resistance. In fact, his very own futuristic robot person had been sent back in time to save his life and complete a mission.
That was so cool.
"Are you okay?" Houghton asked, and he nodded.
"Okay? Am I okay? I'm more than okay, I'm great. I've been dreaming of this since, well, you have no idea. Wait, unless you do. Did I tell Beckett about my zombie apocalypse survival plan by any chance? Because if I did, you probably have a pretty good idea of what's going through my head right now."
Houghton rolled her eyes. "Fortunately - or not, as the case may be - I'm familiar with your zombie apocalypse survival camp attendance."
"Camp? I go to camp? That is so cool."
"Focus, Castle," Houghton said, and he made a face at her.
Yeah, they'd programmed her like Beckett alright. A humorless Beckett, business first, just like the way she was when they were knee-deep in a case that wasn't progressing. What helped then? He grinned. Theory building. Even back in the beginning, he and Beckett had been able to build theory, so there was no reason - even if they'd programmed this one to be a little colder - that wouldn't work here.
He took a sip of his scotch as he steeled himself.
"Fine. Tell me more about what we have to do."
The scent of coffee registered before Castle was properly awake, and he forced his eyes open as everything came flooding back.
The book launch party. Running with Alexis. And Houghton.
It couldn't be real, could it? But a glance around the room told him he was indeed in the Hamptons rather than the loft. He stretched, turning his head to take in the time. Eight o'clock was painfully early, or it would be on a typical morning after a book launch, but consuming a single glass of champagne and a scotch was anything but ordinary. Neither was being rescued by a machine.
He shrugged, wanting to resist getting up, but he had to face his new reality at some stage. The sooner he and Houghton blew up this office building, the better. But first, caffeine.
He descended the stairs two at a time, slowing as he rounded the door into the kitchen. Alexis and Houghton were standing at the espresso machine, his daughter instructing Houghton how to use it. He smirked at the idea of a robot being stumped by something as simple as making coffee, before the smile fell from his face and he let his eyes glaze over.
Alexis and Beckett, standing together like friends. He could see it so clearly; for a second Houghton wasn't a stranger, wasn't a machine, she was Kate, and she was in his life. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the door frame as he let himself get lost in the fantasy.
Kate turned from the espresso maker, a cup of coffee in her hand, which she extended toward him. He took it, leaning in to kiss her as his daughter rolled her eyes, exasperated but happy in spite of their open affection. A thud of footsteps burst into the kitchen, tiny feet running for them, their child reaching up for him and Kate. "Hey, baby," Kate said, scooping the little boy up and pressing a kiss to his dark hair. "You want to say good morning to Daddy?"
"Dad?"
Rick shook himself from the moment, swallowing as he pushed the daydream away. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, painting a smile onto his face for Alexis.
"I made you coffee," Houghton announced, striding toward him and pushing the cup into his hands. "And I explained to Alexis that I am not Kate… I am her sister." She nodded at him, apparently ready to dismiss the topic.
"Dad, you didn't tell me Kate had a sister," Alexis said, a frown crossing her face, and he reached out, ruffling a hand through her hair.
"I didn't know," he said, hoping the half-lie would suffice. He took a sip of the coffee, seating himself at the counter. "Did you two sleep well?"
"Yeah, good," Alexis said, flopping down beside him, but Houghton shook her head.
"I do not sleep." He raised his eyebrows. Too many statements like that and Alexis wouldn't be on board with the sister storyline for very much longer.
"Okay, then." He cleared his throat. "So what do we need to do today?"
"Have you spoken to Esposito and Ryan? Is it clear to go back to our apartment?" Alexis asked, and he shrugged, hoping Houghton would jump in.
"Yes," she said, sounding anything but convincing. "But it is better if we stay here one more night to be sure. You'll be okay. Safe. Castle and I need to go for a drive though, check a few things out."
She looked him up and down, and he glanced at his attire to see what she was looking at; striped pajama pants and a green lantern t-shirt. Was it his fault he'd been allocated four minutes to get the hell out of the loft last night? The few things he had on hand here weren't exactly the height of sleep fashion, and he'd been a damn sight more concerned with getting Alexis to safety.
"Get dressed," she instructed him and he took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee. His Beckett was never that harsh, not even when she was telling him to stay in the car.
How had it taken him so long last night to realize that this wasn't Kate?
"Where are we going?" he asked once they were back in the car. "Back to the city?"
"Back to the city, yes."
"Why did we even leave? We could have laid low there, stayed in a hotel or something?"
"We have some stops to make on the way. Besides, it's good that Alexis is safe."
"And this will be all over… when? Tonight? Tomorrow?"
"Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow."
Castle grimaced, his palms damp against his jeans as Houghton sped down the interstate. Another thing she had in common with Beckett; her complete unwillingness to let him drive. He'd offered, as they'd walked out of the house, and she'd fixed him with a look that was uncanny in its familiarity.
The scenery faded into a blur as she broke the speed limits, and he shook his head, wondering whether this version of Beckett came equipped with a detective's shield to ward off any traffic cops. Asking seemed futile, given the monosyllabic responses he'd gotten from her so far since they'd left the house, but his mouth opened of its own accord and the question left his lips before he could bite it down.
"Open the glove box," she instructed him, and he did so, curious. Most of the weapons were still in the duffel bag at his feet. Could there be more?
Instead, the glove box was full of documents, and he rifled through them. A police badge was part of the assortment, and he ran his fingertip over the familiar numbers: 41319.
"It's good to be accurate," she told him, and he nodded, opening the passports that were nestled behind the badge. His own face stared back from both a Canadian passport and an American, but in neither case did the document purport to belong to Richard Castle. "And sometimes it's important to obscure a few details."
"Where did you get all of these?" he asked as he opened a few more passports; all Kate's picture, or Houghton's, all labeled with generic names, random dates of birth. She glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips.
"I told you. There are a lot of us, and a lot of little things need to happen for each plan to be set into motion. It's best to be prepared."
"And what's our first stop?"
"Safety deposit box," she said, indicating and taking the next exit, still driving well over the limit. She guided the car onto a side road, peeling up to a suburban strip mall and coming to a stop outside the bank. She flicked through the passports, handing one to Castle, and slipping one into her own back pocket before producing a small key, passing it to him. She pointed to the weapons on the floor. "Choose something."
"We can't take weapons into the bank," he protested, and she shook her head.
"Doesn't matter. Take something anyway."
He shrugged, grabbing a small handgun and sliding it into the back waistband of his jeans, making sure it was concealed by his t-shirt.
"Okay, let's go."
They were in and out of the bank in record time, no weapons drawn. The bank teller had checked their IDs, and he and Houghton had handed over their safety deposit box keys. Houghton had retrieved what looked to him like paperwork and a metal box - "blueprints," she'd stated, her matter of fact tone not inviting questions about the container that was clearly heavy, and most definitely not blueprints.
The complications started as soon as they exited the bank, as they approached their car; Castle flew to the ground as the air exploded in gunshots. But Houghton was ready; the guns in her waistband were suddenly an extension of her limbs as she shot at their attacker, her pace steady as she advanced upon him.
Amid the chaos, Castle forced himself to think, taking cover behind the car before drawing his own weapon. It was over before he could fire, though, Houghton marching forward and throwing the corpse over her shoulder.
"Open the trunk," she instructed him, and he blinked, shaking his head as he did so.
This was insane. This was honest to goodness, certifiably mad, bat-shit insane. What was he thinking, going with this woman, just because she looked like Beckett? She wasn't Beckett. Hell, she probably wasn't even a machine, because seriously, how nuts was that?
"Don't just stand there," she hissed. "Help me."
"With… what?"
She rolled her eyes - another of Kate's looks that she'd perfected - twisting their attackers head with surprising force, grimacing at Castle as he squealed. "Gotta get this off," she grunted, and his jaw dropped.
"What, it's not enough that you filled him with holes? If he's not already dead he's gonna bleed out…" Castle trailed off as he looked closely. No blood. In the distance, sirens wailed.
"Holes won't do it," she said, tugging, and all at once the head came off, revealing metal and wires. Holy fuck. She wasn't kidding. This really was rise of the machines, and it was all startlingly real. "Come on. We'll take his chip out in the car."
She tossed the head to him, stalking around to the driver's side.
"Aren't you glad I made you take that weapon now? Let's go."
A/N: J&K, your beta powers combined rock my world. Reviewers from last week to whom I did not individually reply, thank you. x