Disclaimer: We still don't own anything you recognize - however, we incorporated the deleted scene from Watershed into this chapter, which is in italics. It worked so well with the rest of our story and we felt that we had to use it. [Why did that not make the cut? D'uh!]
The title of this work of fiction has been shamelessly borrowed from one of the later episodes of season 6, because we thought it fit so well. So everything you recognize is property of Andrew W. Marlowe, we've just taken everything out to play.
We do own Detective Stephanie Dunbar and if there is any resemblance to any other person, well, it is purely accidental. We still do not want you to sue us, we are still just university students and so far neither of us have won the lottery. D'uh again!
Need to Know
Chapter Two
The room was completely thrown into darkness, with the exception of the end credits of the movie rolling on the big plasma screen, casting flickering shadows upon the wall behind her. As suddenly as the music came to a crescendo and then faded to nothing, his job was done. She hadn't heard him approach until it was too late, caught completely unaware and the sounds of their struggle had been muffled by the amplified volume of the running action movie. It was over quicker than he expected, only a matter of minutes before the color drained from her face and she moved no more. He'd anticipated (and subsequently planned for) her putting up more of a struggle and now he was surprised how easy it all was. The victim's cries which had been muffled by a big, gloved hand, still echoed in the distant chambers of his brain but it didn't perturb him and in fact he seemed altogether rather amused, standing in the centre of her living room, where the body now lay. Now patience was needed.
The plan had a step two, and this step two only worked post-mortem. Everything else was just a bloody mess. The first part was easy, but this needed to be clean. No one was supposed to connect him to this. Still, he needed to make sure that the right people found her. And that they alerted the right people. He took out the little roll that he had brought and unrolled it on a small table nearby. Several surgical knives reflected off the light that the TV created in the room.
"I found you, it's been so long," he murmured as he bent down to attend to the female lying on the ground. Surprisingly gracefully for a man of his stature, he brushed her hair back from her face. "For seven years you hid from me Cora, but now I finally found you and this can all come to an end." There was a quiet note of triumph resonating in his words. He moved his gloved hand to her cheek with a touch that could again only be described as tender, stubby fingers feathering against her porcelain skin. meanwhile observing the unnatural stare that looked into nowhere.
"You really shouldn't have done this, you know?" His voice carried in the stillness of the room and he once surveyed the changes to her familiar features, almost reverently. She should not have done it, really should not have betrayed him- them, betrayed the system, betrayed the country. There was a price tag on treachery and it was a high price to pay. She had known that and still decided to wear her true colors on her sleeve. In very much the same way she should not have been surprised that he had stayed true to who he was. Killing her had been his duty, at least somehow - and there was no room for remorse. She was a smart girl, and he had no doubts she'd known it would come down to this. Yes, she'd always known that it would be him in the end.
"Nice apartment you have here," he said, a twisted smile gracing his lips and a careless glance back towards his unresponsive companion. "but I've always known that you had good taste. It's just a shame that didn't extend to your taste in men." His words were matter of fact, laced only with the faintest strains of laughter. "Since. I. was. one. of. them." Each word was punctuated by his warm breath ghosting across the side of her face, in a complete contrast to her rapidly cooling corpse.
He let his attention shift from the body and his gaze wander around the room, facial features arranging themselves into a seemingly mirthful expression. Exquisite furniture, and even for someone who had spent the past several years living undercover, she seemed to have decided that she deserved a higher standard in her life. Who could blame her? He made sure that the curtains were tightly shut, away from the unsuspecting eyes of the rest of the world and switched on a small lamp, bathing the room in a dim glow. Expensive flower arrangements decorated the room, nearly every flat surface was adorned by bouquets or vases.
He drew his attention away from his surroundings and got to work. He was sure she wouldn't be found quickly, so he took his time. His movements were deliberate, precise, exercising a great degree of care with every cut he made, reveling in the way the sharp blade sliced into her body cavity. He watched with morbid fascination as blood seeped into the carpet and congealed and it was a full forty-five minutes before he stood back to survey his handiwork. Only the torso remained behind. The victim's head was carefully stored in a black cool box. As were her fingers. He didn't want to make it too easy. After he left the apartment, he took his gloves off, put them in his backpack and making sure no one was watching, headed quickly for the staircase.
Satisfied he hadn't been seen, he contemplated her building momentarily from across the street before doing what he did best. His work here was done and it was time to disappear because now it was a game of patience. A case of waiting for the dominoes to fall.
The living room was barely lit by the lights from New York City. The book shelves in the room were filled with all things mystery, Patterson, Grisham, Ludlum, Connelly and Brown. In between them, some shelves were filled with more personal items. Silver frames that showed several stages of Alexis' life, some as a baby, toddler, a young kindergarden kid. Just recently, Castle had made some additions to it. The first picture of him and Beckett at the release party of "Heat Wave", her annoyance clearly visible but even if Kate had complained several times that it didn't actually reflect the progress of their relationship, Castle had insisted that it needed to be there. So it stood there, next to a picture of Alexis at her graduation speech. Like equals. Like both meant the same. He still hoped that one day the shelf would be filled with a wedding picture of him and Kate. He still wanted it, the crystal clear vision of her in a beautiful wedding dress appeared in his head more frequently than he wished.
He slowly wandered through the room and pondered what the hell had happened so that nothing stayed the same. She was gone, lived and worked in Washington D.C. and he was now back in New York. If only he had known what had been going on in Kate's mind at the time he had last seen her in this living room. The atmosphere of the room reminded him of that particular occasion and stopped him dead in his tracks, his mind starting to wander.
The room had been equally dark, it was 2.23am in the morning when he had realized that she wasn't still peacefully sleeping next to him. In fact, she had tossed and turned until she finally fell asleep and mere hours later she was gone. Worried, he slowly got up, his mid still clouded by sleep. He missed having her next to him and he concluded that was what woke him up in the first place. He dressed in his robe to shield himself against the chilly air in the apartment and made his way into the living room to find her there, slumped on the couch, her eyes wide open and staring into nowhere.
"Hey," he said, his voice husky and sleepy as he approached the couch and sat down on the arm-rest of the adjacent chair.
"Hey, couldn't sleep" was all she responded to his slightly worried tone and his forehead crinkled at the more nonchalant and all too quick response she had given him but he decided to let go in order to find out what bothered her. If she told him what did.
"The case?" he asked her and hoped to drop her a line to answer and tell him more about what kept her awake in the wee hours of the night.
She twirled her hair with her left hand which was always a sign that something more important was going on she didn't want to speak about. "Yeah, among other things" she pressed out eventually, looking rather sad.
Castle decided to let it go and uplift her with one of his ideas, one he thought seemed fitting at the time; not as a strategy to divert her attention, that was not the intention behind it. At least not for him. He could see her aggravated state of mind and simply wanted to ease some of her tension. So he went on and suggested a course of action for the upcoming weeks: "You know what you need? Both of us, actually? A long vacation!"
She looked at him, partly surprised, partly just tired. Tired because she had been up for about an hour, thinking things through. And also tired because she knew what had to come next. They wouldn't be talking about the issues that bothered her and he would suggest something that kept them from doing it. In this case, a getaway. But if she was completely honest with herself, right now she didn't want to talk to him about D.C.. About a job offer that could potentially change her life. Their lives. Did that make her a bad person? A bad girlfriend? She didn't know and she didn't want to also deepen such a thought whilst so much needed to be thought through.
"Just turn off our brains," added Castle and Kate felt a sarcastic laugh fighting its way up her throat and out of her mouth. She has trouble fighting it down. If he couldn't actually see how much she was thinking and that it had to be important ... what was the deal with them, then?
"What do you say," he went on, as her face was emotionless and she was awaiting his proposal, "next month after the book is in ... we take a couple of weeks, go out to the Hamptons, just the two of us."
The slightly suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows at 'just the two of us' had her smiling just barely and he noticed it, ultimately encouraging that he was proposing something she might say 'yes' to.
"Yeah, that sounds great," she responded, still twirling a strand of her hair with her left hand. Castle detected the absence of enthusiasm but attributed it to her lack of sleep.
"It will be," he said, his tone reassuring and rose to his feet, "now, quit thinking so much. Gets your forehead all wrinkly. Like I am dating a Shar Pei." He leaned down towards her and placed a soft, loving kiss on the top of her head that sent shivers down her spine. Always so loving, always so devoted, but always so clueless. Even if she didn't actually want to smile, a broad happy smile made its way onto her face and for a second she was completely content with the situation. Before the doubts kicked in again.
"Is that what we're doing, dating?" she asked Castle, who had started on his way back to the bedroom. She looked at him, hoping for a definite answer of what to expect from them. Another hint she dropped. One she hoped he would pick up. He turned around to face her once again and her heart sank, because she could tell that he hadn't.
"Dating, being with, semi-cohabiting," her face fell at the indefinite answer he was giving her once again, "tell you what we're not doing: Sleeping."
He gave her a pleading look and added: "Come on, back to bed." With that he turned back around and slurped into the bedroom, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute" she whispered almost inaudibly and her mind went back into thinking that she didn't have a clue where the relationship was going. She needed answers. And she needed them fast.
If only he had known back then. Things might have been less complicated. But when had it not been complicated between the two of them? The secrets had piled up between them yet AGAIN and introspectively, he contemplated if he'd have been better off telling her about the little velvet box in his desk drawer sooner, wondered whether it would have made her think differently about her decision. He could tell she still thought it was a spur of the moment decision, but it wasn't - or at least it wasn't intended to be, and he'd actually had the ring for several weeks prior to their fall out. But he was waiting for the right moment and it had been in the back of his mind during their conversation that evening. After all, there was nothing better than a romantic getaway as the setting for popping the all important question, was there?
He sighed and switched the lamp on his desk on. He flipped his notebook open and hit the power button, hearing the steady and strangely reassuring whirring noise it made as it came to life. It was approaching three a.m and attempting sleep had been futile, as he'd predicted it would be. Without her by his side there was no way he would get any rest, at least not during the first night they spent apart again. Another sign of how dependent he had become on her, how much it meant to him that she was happy and successful. Even if he suffered, it had never been clearer to him that she deserved all the happiness in the world.
He sat down on his leather chair and adjusted it to his liking. Then he stared at the blinking cursor of his document until the sun rose behind the New York skyline and the first rays of sunlight tickled his nose.
Martha found her son lying face down on his desk, small remnants of drool on the side of his mouth and him making small snoring noises. He had either written during the night and then fallen asleep doing so or had attempted to write for his next novel 'Federal Heat' and had failed miserably. She surveyed the blank document with its menacing blinking cursor and upon taking in the rest of the desk, opted strongly for the latter. A small glass and an almost empty bottle of amber colored liquor indicated clearly what must have happened sometime between her sending him to bed and waking him up.
As glad as she was that he was sleeping peacefully, she felt that he would want her to wake him up, particularly because as comfortable as that position might have been initially, she was sure it would have lost some of its appeal after several hours. Choosing a rather drastic method and inwardly smiling at the thought, she went into his bathroom and fetched a small towel. Moistening it with cold water, Martha squeezed the excess water out and went back into the study to wake her son up.
"Uuuuuuahhhhhhhh," Castle let out a high pitched scream as the wet towel hit his neck, assaulting his senses and making him stare wildly around for the source. Martha just chuckled at his sleepy but dumbstruck expression.
"Good morning, sunshine," she piped in her singsong voice and he took the towel from his neck and ran it over his face, once, twice, three times, wincing when his mother exuberantly threw open the blinds.
"Coffee," he rasped out, with only a minimal awareness of his surroundings, because any sudden movement coupled with the almost blinding sunlight which now filled the room, caused his head to pound vigorously.
"Freshly brewed," his mother added and he shot her a thankful look before making his way slowly past her and into the kitchen, where he could literally smell the coffee and the bacon keeping warm under the grill.
"Soooo..." Martha started. Castle could tell that she would not let go of the topic and he felt like he was ready to talk about parts of it.
"It's not working," he started as he poured himself a big cup of coffee and proceeded to make himself a sandwich. This worked two-fold in buying him a little more time, and gave him the added opportunity to use the kitchen counter for protection from Martha's enquiring glances.
"What's not working, Richard?"
"Me, Kate, New York, D.C, this isn't working, we're not working." His words were flat, toneless and he took a grateful gulp of liquid from the steaming cup. "I wish it was, I really wish it was," he added almost as an afterthought.
"I see," Martha answered thoughtfully, offering no further comment, "and does Katherine agree?"
Castle slowly chewed a mouthful of his breakfast, only giving a non-committal shrug of his shoulders in response to her question. That was half of the problem. He had no idea how Kate felt most of the time and since she'd been gone they seemed to have slipped back into this pattern of skating over the serious issues. He also intentionally avoided his mother's gaze because there had been something all too knowing in her expression ever since he returned home early from D.C. He got the feeling she knew what was troubling him more than she let on. "I don't know, maybe she would if she had as much time to contemplate it as I do," he answered sagely, feeling a sudden flood of words bubble up in his throat. He looked down at the sandwich he was holding, and let the plate clatter deliberately onto the counter; suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore.
"I feel like a fool for even trying to compete with that new job of hers," he admitted, barely raising his voice. "It shouldn't even be a competition but its too time-consuming, it is so challenging. And what do I even have to offer?" Castle forced the words from his throat, beginning to pace the room, the obvious differences between their current living arrangements and the complexity of Kate's new job all too present on his mind. "Kate needs a challenge, she thrives on it and this job gives her that tenfold. What more could she possibly need?"
"Of all the daft things I've ever heard you say, I think that one takes the cake. Don't be ridiculous! Yes she took an incredible opportunity because it came her way, but in case it's escaped your notice, she also said yes to becoming your wife. Do you really think that's a decision someone like Kate Beckett would make lightly?"
As much as his mother would always be in his corner, she could still remain objective, and comfortable in advocating for Kate. She'd watched the two of them dance around each other for so long she'd started to think she wouldn't live to see them finally realize what everyone else had almost from the start. She'd seen them break each other apart more times than was healthy and watched them find a way back when it genuinely seemed like they'd be better off apart. If they could make it through all that then there was no doubt that this was worth fighting for. The intensely private Kate Beckett who once shied away from commitment had opened up to him enough to give them a chance, and now she'd accepted his marriage proposal which was no small feat. It was just making him see that she was invested or at the very least giving him little room to doubt it.
If only that were all it boiled down to. "'s not that easy," he mumbled around his mouthful, swallowing hard and feeling too-hot coffee scald the back of his throat.
"Talk about preaching to the choir darling! Love never is, Richard, it never is. But hear some words of wisdom from your old mother," Martha started and Castle raised an eyebrow at the word old, because it wasn't one that was in her vocabulary. Vibrant maybe, but she never ever described herself as old. She desperately wanted to stay in the game, stay active. If she pointed out her age she felt the need to offer extensive life advice, and this time he found he was actually eager to listen to it. She had her moments after all.
"If relationships were easy, it would mean you didn't need to fight for them in the first place. They'd lose their passion, they'd lose their meaning. Think about all the obstacles you've overcome together. You spent four years chasing her, are you really willing to throw it all away now that you have her? Are you really ready to let her get away?"
"I don't think I have to remind you that 'the one that got away' is a completely different person," he retorted wryly, referring to his former girlfriend Kyra Blaine.
"And I hardly think I need to remind you that the circumstances are, admittedly not the same but similar," Martha threw his words back at him, "things got too serious with Kyra and she ran away. Katherine-"
"Kate isn't running away," Castle answered automatically, choosing that moment to actually look at his mother and seeing a flicker of something resembling triumph flicker across her face in the split second before she rearranged her features. With a faint twinge of annoyance, he realized that he'd probably just played exactly into her hands. "And Kyra- things might have been different with her a second time around," he tried to eliminate any trace of defensiveness from his tone.
"Nonsense darling," Martha started airily, "she was always meant to be with someone else. You went to her wedding, you talked with her and I knew then that you could see that. You might have blocked it out, but I remember what it was like when you broke up." There was an almost dramatic pause and Castle could tell from her pointed stare, it was deliberate on her part to make him think.
"Incidentally that goes on to prove my point," she said after about thirty seconds of reflection had passed. "Life does sometimes offer second chances but is it really wise to resort to to them? What I'm saying is, don't let Katherine go away because you have doubts because anyone can see that this - this is right. She's the one who's supposed to be with you and you're the one who is supposed to be with her. Not Meredith, her only redeeming feature is that she has given us Alexis. Not Kyra, certainly not Gina..."
"Hey, mother, we are talking about my second wife here," Castle interrupted pointedly, but Martha merely smiled.
"Yes, that's true and I am not judging the poor choices you've made in the past," she grinned and despite himself, Castle felt the almost imperceptible hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "But you're a different person now and Katherine- she's not like any of the others. I think you two owe it to yourselves to try and make it work. That's if you still want it to work out."
"Of course I do, I love her. I really love her," he responded suddenly in earnest, determined and calm, in very much the manner he had been when he proposed.
"But-" his mother prompted, pretending not to notice the emotion in his voice.
"But loving her isn't enough, hell, even marrying her isn't enough," he said flatly. "We have to look beyond marriage otherwise we don't stand a chance and I just don't see how that new job of hers might become less challenging after a while. I don't see how she'll ever be able to put us first, and I'd feel selfish for asking her to." He eventually glanced away from the spot he'd been staring at and saw the look of dawning comprehension on his mother's face as she realized what this was really about.
Martha opened her mouth and Castle could tell she was about to interject, so he cut her off before she could. "Just try to imagine it mother, classified information, the most interesting cases, exotic places, strange cases on a much higher level than before. How can this not be interesting for years to come?"
"So you're worried she might never get tired of it but might eventually get tired of you?" Martha asked and when her son didn't respond she took this as his answer, "Is there something you're planning that can't wait?"
He hedged but eventually conceded, under his mother's beady-eyed stare, "I've been thinking about kids."
"Oh Richard," Martha said, her eyes growing wider. She hurried around the kitchen counter to be closer to her son, "does she know?"
"Unless her new training provided her with an aptitude for reading minds, then no. How's she supposed to know? I mean, we don't talk about things. We evade things until they're staring us in the face, and we openly hide things from each other because we're scared they'll be what breaks us. How's that a good thing? How's that helping?"
"You're right, that isn't helping," Martha said, sympathetically, "but fleeing the scene and hurrying back to New York isn't either, don't you think?" There was no recrimination in her tone, only common sense.
There was a moment of silence. "Kate has always believed that she couldn't have it all - that she had to make a choice and I convinced her she didn't - I convinced her that we could do this, but what if I was wrong? What if I only told her that because it's what I needed to believe?" He looked stricken as he registered how much truth there was to the words spilling carelessly from his lips, and his mother's fingers clasped around his wrist, grounding him.
"Think back Richard, think back five years and remember the Kate Beckett you first knew. The woman who pushed you away time and time again because you invaded her comfort zone once and kept on pushing. Now flash forward to today. In as many ways as she's changed - for the better I might add - in so many ways she's still the same person she always was. She deals with a basis in fact and I have no hesitation in saying that no amount of words from anyone could convince Katherine of anything if they didn't have a shred of proof backing them up."
"What are you saying?"
"What I'm saying darling is that the facts speak for themselves and actions speak louder than words. Katherine agreed to marry you, which in itself speaks volumes. It practically screams that she has faith in the two of you, and that you've done something to make that faith justified."
As her son didn't respond to her speech and simply stared into nothingness, Martha added: "On another note, I presume by the messages Gina keeps leaving that you're still coming up empty? Maybe you wanna kick off your writing with another visit to the precinct? Or does Captain Gates not want you around without Katherine making sure you tow the line?"
That brought something of a small smile to his face and when he looked back at his mother, he could tell they were both thinking the same thing. Like Kate could ever keep him out of trouble for too long. He seemed to come out of his brief trance enough to reply, "Uh, oh .. actually, I am free to go back if I want to. Can't say I expected that to happen."
"You always said she'd warm to you eventually," Martha chuckled and gave her son an encouraging clap on the back, pleased that he seemed to have regained some of his character. "Go, get yourself sorted out and then you can decide what you want to do. I have some business of my own to attend to-"
"The Martha Rodgers School of Acting?" he asked and she nodded. "The home of future stars."
Kate looked out across the city, and for a moment she was taken aback by the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. She still had those moments when it didn't quite seem real - and this was one of them. There was something to be said for the concrete jungle that was New York, something which, as grand as it was, the U.S Capitol building on the horizon didn't quite measure up to. The sky was completely grey, reflecting the grim mood that seemed to have gripped Kate ever since she first opened her eyes that morning. She sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache brewing and leaned forward, letting her head rest on the cool glass, in an attempt to ease the throbbing.
It was funny, she mused, the things you missed when you didn't see them every day. The imposing Manhattan cityscape hadn't been something she thought would be too consequential but after about a week what had become apparent was that she'd found the absence of such a skyline bothered her. Apparently there really was no place like home. It wasn't that she was naive enough to have believed that DC would immediately feel like home, but it had been six weeks now and she'd deny it if anyone asked (old habits did die hard after all) but she didn't even feel like she was settling down.
She was no stranger to change, in fact she'd go so far as to say she was easily adaptable to it; but maybe this was why she felt so out of her depth. It was all so much harder than she'd anticipated it would be and it wasn't even that she was having second thoughts so much, as the job was proving a challenge. Ordinarily this would have been something she could throw herself into but she hadn't quite realized how much she'd have to relearn, how many of her old habits she'd have to break and how many mistakes she would make along the way. She only guessed that spending so long at the top of her game had made her slightly complacent, and she didn't like that feeling in the slightest.
Her colleagues were nice enough she supposed, but they weren't Esposito and Ryan. Too detached, although that was part and parcel of the job, something she was still having trouble adjusting to. Rachel, as nice and as solid as she was - as much as Kate found a lot of traits she respected in her, the truth of the matter was she wasn't Lanie. She felt a pang of guilt as she thought of her friends back in New York, because she hadn't spoken to them in what had to be two weeks - Esposito even longer than that. They'd actually exchanged very few words before she left and although he never openly challenged her on it, he'd been the nearest thing to family she had for a long time and she knew he felt betrayed. It might have resolved itself had Lanie not let it slip that Kate had confided in her about the opportunity, even before speaking to Castle - causing friction between her friends too, which she felt terrible for.
She berated herself for all the secrets she had kept from her friends, from her fiancé. If there was one thing she should have learned from the past few years, from their turbulent and unorthodox partnership, it was that secrets had never worked for them, for any of them. Secrets had only divided them and without a doubt done irreparable damage to their relationships - regardless of how things were now. Not confiding in people had only torn them further apart, created barriers, walls, further secrets.
She moved away from the window and surveyed her apartment. There were possessions still stood in boxes - when Castle had queried her about them, she'd brushed it off as not having had the time to completely unpack but the truth was (and she suspected he probably knew it too, given how knowledgeable he had always been when it came to her) that she wasn't quite ready to do so. Because doing so would mean that she should start referring to this place as home. Moving over to one of the cardboard boxes, she reached inside and rifled around briefly before coming up with a bound manuscript, complete with cover. It was the first copy of Deadly Heat - which wasn't due for release until September but ever since they'd had that argument over her jealousy towards 'Miss Cosmo reporter' he'd made sure, much to Gina's disapproval (which Castle seemed to revel in) that she always had access to it first.
She ran her fingers almost reverently over the cover page before turning to the dedication she'd committed to memory weeks ago:
'To KB: May the dance never end and the music never stop,'
He'd presented her with it on her last night in New York and whatever she'd been expecting she didn't know, but the words had hit her somewhere deep inside and she'd cried in his arms for a long time that night. It was only when she was on the plane, that she realized what it must have meant, Castle had spoken to her dad - and he'd voiced her innermost fears. And instead of challenging her on them, Castle had reassured her in the only way he knew would get through to her.
A tear ran down her cheek before she could stop it, and then another but she was too exhausted to care, in every sense of the word. Physically and mentally. The job was so tiring, and whereas she knew her nineteen year old self wouldn't have had a problem with it, now it was so tough conditioning herself into not feeling. She was tired of having to fight this unfamiliar impulse to cry all the time, something made especially difficult because because her emotions never seemed far from the surface these days.
She hesitated before turning the pages because in truth she hadn't been able to bring herself to read any further than the dedication. It was stupid really, because his words should have made her feel closer to him instead of making her feeling even lonelier and like she'd failed him somehow. Feeling this powerless wasn't a feeling she was used to and she really needed to shake it off.
She felt the sudden urge to make a connection to New York City and grabbed her phone. Sudden guilt washed over her when she scrolled past Lanie's contact details. She really should have been in touch with her more- but the forlorn state she was currently in didn't make it possible to choose Lanie as her dialog partner. Her voice would give her away in an instant, and even in the rare instance it didn't, the things she didn't say would betray her. Lanie always had the power to get to the bottom of things with just a few words and Kate refused to cry whilst speaking to her friend on the phone with all the miles between them. She kept scrolling until she reached Ryan, and though she'd genuinely intended to call and congratulate him, it didn't stop her from hesitantly hovering above the call button before pressing. Who was she these days, and what the hell had she done with Kate Beckett?
As their connection established, Kate tapped her foot impatiently against the floor. She didn't quite know how she'd gotten this restless again but it dawned on her that she might have embraced some of the attributes the old Beckett would have had. The Beckett who met her favorite author at a book party, what seemed like a lifetime ago now and who had shoved her badge into his face. Then again, the old Beckett would have loved the upbeat tempo of her new work environment, would have embraced the opportunity more and would have felt so much more enthusiastic about the various challenges the FBI job offered. She wouldn't have doubted for a second it was where she belonged, but Kate - the product of her time and later, her relationship with Rick Castle - couldn't help but to let those doubts fester and multiply. Kate was someone who longed for news about unborn babies, who missed her familiar routines and being able to empathize with the people she came into contact with. She was someone who no longer had a foot out of the door but instead a foot in Washington D.C.
"Hello? Is that really Kate Beckett or is this a mirage?" Ryan picked up the call and even if he was just joking, she felt that knot of guilt twisting up her insides, though truth be told it didn't take much for it to rear it's head these days. But that was on her as he rightfully reminded her that she hadn't called in a few weeks.
"It is really me," she said, her voice unusually small and holding a note of insecurity, which she half-hoped Ryan would put down to their less-than-stellar connection. "I meant to call, but things have been crazy busy."
"You not at work right now?"
Kate tried to inject a note of enthusiasm into her tone as she responded, "we just closed our case and were practically ordered to take a day off."
"You sound less than thrilled about that," Ryan's amusement echoed down the line, "are you loving it that much that you can't bear to be away from the place for a day?"
He'd touched a nerve and Kate drew a sharp breath, trying to ignore the sudden miserable stab of her conscience at the same time as fighting down a tidal wave of panic. Had she really got this so badly wrong?
"Beckett, what's going on?" Her silence was clearly unnerving to Ryan; she could detect the concern in his voice and the lump in her throat became even more pronounced. Her eyes misted over and she had no idea how she was supposed to pretend everything was fine.
"Nothing," she croaked, in no shape to deceive her friend. It scared her how badly she wanted to turn around to him and say 'everything.'
"'Nothing', Beckett?" Ryan simply asked to give her some space to answer herself. He was still following the old 'never push Kate Beckett' rule and she realized how much she hated it. They deserved to be in each other's lives and they also had every right to push the other person forward after a long time of camaraderie. She angrily swiped at her cheek with her sleeve and swallowed enough to be able to speak.
"It's lonely here sometimes," she managed and the moment she said it, she realized how monumental her confession really was, "and I feel like I am missing out on so much. Castle showed me the scan. Twins, Kevin? Congratulations! That is amazing!"
"Thank you! We're over the moon! I sure won't be lonely anytime soon," he responded, "I always imagine how Jenny must feel with them swimming inside of her..."
"I bet," Kate smiled but her smile faded when she heard Ryan's next question.
"If this job isn't what you wanted, why aren't you back, yet?" He seemed to second guess what she was thinking, "you know no one here will think any less of you if you admit the job isn't for you."
"Look, Ryan, it's not that easy," Kate said quietly, unsure how much she should tell her friend about her thoughts on her current living and work arrangements. She knew her answer was something of a cop out but truthfully she didn't know what else to say, because it was a question that constantly occupied her mind and she was still no further forward. Not to mention that Castle was still under the impression that everything was fine, because she was busy and he was busy. It wasn't a justification but for whatever reason they just hadn't gotten around to talking about it.
"When is it ever?" Ryan shot back and added, "especially if a long-distance relationship is part of the deal as well. But you know what, you figure it out. You always have. Listen, I'm sorry to bail but I've gotta go, Jenny isn't feeling too well and I have to be a good husband and father and care for her before I have to go into work later."
"Morning sickness?" Kate asked, uncertain how else to comment and assuming only what seemed obvious, having no experience herself.
"Oh, no, that part is over for a while now. She has gained some weight and is unhappy but she is craving all kinds of different food at the same time so ... it is hard to balance it. I am not lying, it is quite a challenge."
"I imagine," Kate said and subconsciously, her hand strayed to her stomach, resting against the small curve and providing her with an illogical sense of comfort. It stayed there for as long as she stared out of the window when their phone call had long disconnected.
When Ryan arrived at the precinct forty-five minutes later, the desk of his partner was deserted and Esposito was nowhere to be seen. Interestingly, this was also true for the latest addition to their team, Stephanie Dunbar. Ryan looked around but except from Detective Karpowski, all other desks were abandoned. He began to wonder if he hadn't gotten the memo about a secret office party or about additional hours off.
He sighed and sat down behind his desk, turning around in his chair mere moments ago when he heard Esposito's voice "... and the fancy coffee machine is still here, Castle wanted it to stay so that we would never have to suffer from what he called 'coffee influenza' ever again. Really, you shoulda tried the coffee that we had before, dis-gus-ting..."
Esposito was on what looked like a tour through the precinct, followed by an observant but none too enthusiastic Detective Dunbar at his heels. Right now they were leaving the kitchen area and he was showing her the break room and what appears to be the quickest route to the bathroom. Ryan observed them carefully, furrowing his brows. Esposito reminded him of a tour guide in a big city, one hand gesturing away at the various sights and (the only thing missing was) an umbrella in a flamboyant color in his other hand.
A while back Esposito had been flirting with tech specialist Tori Ellis, and Ryan had hesitated to say anything on the topic. He merely dropped some hints alluding to Esposito's relationship status but the Latino hadn't gotten it. Being someone who was convinced that secret smiles, sharing intimate laughs and especially brief touches were reserved for the partner only, Ryan couldn't imagine sharing those things with anyone else than his wife Jenny. Esposito on the other hand had always been the flirtatious one, the competitive ex-military who fought to be recognized whenever a competitive situation between the two had occurred.
The unusual tour seemed to have come to an end since Steph was already back behind her desk, still getting familiar with the new work environment and re-considering her desk organization as she hit new obstacles, meaning, new things to put on already limited desk space. Esposito was casually leaning on his desk and - despite watching her quite intently - caught Ryan's questioning look, out of the corner of his eye.
"What? I was just showing her around?" he defended himself, automatically concluding that Ryan's gaze had been an accusation in the first place.
"I didn't say anything!" Ryan answered.
"But you gave me the look!"
"What look?" Ryan asked, now entirely confused.
"Not 'what look', 'the look'" Esposito explained and when Ryan still looked mystified, he shook his head and proceeded to elaborate. "The look Beckett used to give us, the one that always said 'are you serious?' Don't tell me you don't remember her looking at us like that? What about that time you and Castle went off chasing ghosts?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah, I remember that one," Ryan said, "although to be fair, she didn't use it on us too often as soon as Castle started following her around."
"Yeah, true bro. What's up with that though? You trying to channel her spirit?" Esposito bantered grinning. The grin quickly faded and they both seemed to realize simultaneously that it was the first time either of them had referred to her by name in quite a while. "Do you think we should call her?"
"Oh, she called me this morning." Ryan answered, not entirely realizing the enormity of the can of worms he was opening up by sharing this particular piece of information.
"You spoke to her?" Esposito needed to verify the information his colleague had just given him and couldn't fully hide the resentment lacing his words. Beckett hadn't even bothered calling him in weeks.
"Yeah, yeah, I did-" he was beginning to rethink this, but it was too late to back out of an explanation, "Castle showed her the scan photo and she called to congratulate us." Ryan finished, almost apologetically glancing across at his partner, "listen man, I know you're upset about her not calling but..."
"I'm not upset," Esposito raised his voice which caused two things to happen instantaneously. Firstly Stephanie looked up from her work and the Latino realized he should probably tone his voice down a notch, and second Ryan just stared at him, with a look that said he clearly didn't believe him, "I'm not, I'm just angry but I guess she is pretty busy with all the FBI suits running around solving the 'important' crimes that are out there. It's just..."
"Frustrating?"
"You could use that word," despite himself Esposito grinned, "but you could also use..."
"Annoying?"
"Still not what I meant but I'll let this go."
"Good idea," Esposito answered shortly.
After a few seconds of silence which both detectives needed to reflect on the conversation, Ryan tried to employ a different tactic, "she's lonely."
"She coulda stayed," said Esposito, matter-of-factly and making it clear that he felt she only had herself to blame. As much as he wanted to defend her, Ryan had to admit he had a point.
"But she hasn't."
"Does she regret going?" Esposito challenged, and Ryan's moment of hesitation before responding, didn't go unnoticed.
"Javi, you know it's not in Beckett's nature to admit when she's wrong-"
His partner glared at him, but Ryan stared him down despite his discomfort, "that doesn't answer my question bro."
"I really don't know," Ryan admitted, thinking back over their brief conversation and Kate's demeanor. "I don't think she does either- but I know that she misses us. A lot. I gotta say I miss her, too. It's not the same without her being here, so just cut her a bit of slack okay?"
"Even if it is your team now?" Esposito tried to lighten the mood and punched Ryan in the arm, but he deliberately ignored the tail end of his sentence because he was still too annoyed with Beckett to even think about giving her a break right now.
"Not if this means that I am the one replacing her." When Captain Gates had broken the news, it'd been a sore point with Ryan for a couple of days because until Esposito snapped at him, he'd been obsessing over the disparity between himself and Beckett.
"Oh come on, technically, Steph is..."
"Speaking of which, did you mention our new colleague to Lanie? Should she not know that Steph is fairly attractive?" Ryan eagerly jumped on the change of subject.
"Fairly attractive? She's hot!" retorted Esposito and Ryan just grinned.
"That was a trap, you wanted me to say that so you could hold it against me as soon as you see Lanie, didn't you?"
"Would I do that?"
"Yes!"
Esposito swore that time had never passed slower than it did when he was sat watching and waiting for the clock to tick over from 4:29 to 4:30. The day had been another slow one - although he was on the verge of making one of their cases airtight for trial, pending the return of some DNA results. He yawned and stood up from his chair, stretching his limbs. Paperwork days at the precinct meant long hours slumped over a desk, and he was contemplating an extended stay at the gym that night in order to recuperate but first...
"Yo Steph?" he called out to the new detective who had finally settled into working through a pile of cold cases, under Ryan's supervision until he'd had to leave an hour previously because of some upset with Jenny. It felt strange referring to her by her Christian name, because everyone else at the 12th went by surname only. It was even stranger to see Beckett's place occupied by someone else, not to mention missing the old, wonky chair that had always stood beside it. Esposito had almost considered taking it home for nostalgic reasons but had refrained from doing so. When he had returned to work the following morning, it was gone. He tried to remind himself that people said that change was good. Right now it was hard to see it that way. But there was still the new detective...
"Yeah?" she answered, her piercing gaze looking into his. Slightly stunned into silence by her features once again, it took him a small while to formulate his idea.
"You wanna go down ... um, go down to the morgue? I could show you around? I still have to fetch some results for one of my cases before I head out for the night," he gestured towards his now slightly more empty desk and she nodded.
"Sounds good to me," she answered neutrally and discarded her light summer coat on her chair, "I guess I don't need that today, right?"
"Yeah, it's effin' hot," Esposito answered, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. The air conditioning unit had finally packed up on them, leaving everyone unbearably warm and causing great irritation amongst them. They headed towards the elevator, him a slight step in front.
"I'll just give them a heads up that we're coming down," the Latino said and retrieved his phone, typing a quick message for Lanie. '
Thought I'd give our new detective the grand tour. You got the results for the Green-case?'
Her reply was almost instant.
'Who do you think I am, Perlmutter? Hurry up though, I'm almost headed home!'
The short ride over to the morgue was spent in an eager conversation about favorite sports teams. As it turned out, Steph was an eager supporter of European soccer, unlike most detectives at homicide. Esposito for instance, refused to acknowledge it even being a sport and declared it obsolete causing great offense and encouraging the female to retaliate passionately. They were still engrossed in their 'discussion' until the doors of the morgue swung open and they entered.
"Hey Lanie?" Esposito greeted the M.E. who was standing over at her little desk in the corner, looking between the two Detectives and causing them to realize how loudly they'd been speaking.
"Detective Esposito," she said placing an obvious emphasis on the first word, and the way she glared daggers at him would be enough to make anyone else turn and run in the opposite direction. "I got the results you requested." Lanie gestured him to head over towards her desk whilst Stephanie took a look around the morgue.
"Hey chica," Esposito said, giving her a winning smile and attempting to brush her cheek but Lanie only slapped his hand away, the noise of their contact resounding throughout the echoey room.
If looks could have killed, he was pretty sure he'd have been the latest addition to her autopsy register with the cause of death being that second deadly flick of her eyes. "Is there a reason you failed to mention that your new colleague is not only female, but looks like she just stepped out of Page 6?"
"I didn't realize it was an issue," Esposito glanced across at his new colleague and then back to Lanie's angry face, clueless as to why she was even bothered about Steph. Right now they weren't - well he wasn't sure what they were, because they seemed to have slipped back into the same pattern as they had done the last time they were... a thing. They weren't dating and it felt like they only hooked up because one or the other needed something. Esposito didn't want to push her to categorize what they were doing because it just caused friction, and Lanie didn't seem to want to volunteer the information. He was following her lead. Trying to avert the crisis he tried to switch to the topic of his missing sample.
"Can I just have the results please, Lanie?"
She shot him an exasperated look but did as he asked, coming over all business as she noted that Steph had moved into hearing range. "Of course, Detective. The tox screen came back negative and I didn't find any physical evidence of drug or substance misuse. This was someone who took great care of herself- and I'm neither judge nor jury but based on the evidence I'd convict the guy."
"Thank you, Lanie. That's what I wanted to hear," Esposito answered, feeling a surge of satisfaction at their success and receiving the papers that she handed him.
"I have saved them electronically if there's the need to have copies of them," she explained, gesturing towards her computer.
"Not much work for you these days either, right?" asked Steph, approaching even further, "Hi, Detective Stephanie Dunbar, I just moved to homicide from narcotics. It's nice to meet you."
Esposito didn't fail to notice the look of incredulity that crossed Lanie's face, before being masked with an insincere attempt at a smile. "Lanie Parish, M.E."
If Stephanie noticed the tension then she didn't comment, stretching out her hand to shake. Lanie hesitated in taking it, contemplating if it would be construed as rude if she didn't. Eventually, she grabbed Steph's hand in a firm grip and shook it quickly. "Pleasure to meet you too," Lanie managed before retracting her hand again, "and you're correct, I can't remember the last time the place was this empty. I suspect it's not gonna stay this way, anyways. One of these days they're gonna pile up in here again."
Stephanie nodded politely and gestured Esposito that she would wait for him outside the double doors, because nothing could mask the awkwardness that seemed to have settled on the conversation. She muttered a polite goodbye and walked away, and Esposito knew she could probably feel the glances that Lanie was boring into her back.
As soon as the new detective was out of sight, he tried to pull his on-off girlfriend into his arms but she deflected his attempt at an embrace and went ahead to get changed, shutting the door in his face as he tried to follow.
"Lanie?" Esposito called out, his voice slightly distorted for the wood between them, but even he knew better than to invade her space when she was in this kind of mood. "I wondered if you were free for dinner tonight?"
A small moment of silence greeted him before the door opened, and the M.E poked her head around it. There was a noticeable height difference, but size was definitely no guarantee of power as she calmly delivered her parting shot, "I'm busy, but I'm sure Stephanie would love to go out to dinner with you."
A/N: GoogleknowsUs - are you still there? Are you still liking it so far? Good, I am glad. We started this experiment quite some time ago, before all the spoilers were even out and now we have to hurry up before we're to late with publishing this baby. I just know that this is a super awesome way to pass the time for me, for us, for you guys. I hope we make the finish of your hiatus a little more bearable. Leave us a review on your way out and we write faster ;-)
A/N: WriterLeigh - Thank you for all the love you've shown the first chapter of this, both here and on twitter. You guys are awesome and I hope you enjoyed our humble offering this time. We're really loving writing this and can't wait for you to see where we're headed ;)