Disclaimer: It will only get stranger from here on out.
II.
"Damn it!" Beckett pounded the steering wheel in frustration. Their quarry, some hundred yards ahead of them, had blasted through the lowered barrier, snapping it in half, and continued over the lift bridge, which hadn't lifted quite high enough to make crossing impossible.
"Beckett, we're not going to make it," Castle said from the passenger's seat as he eyed the bridge with no small amount of trepidation. They weren't slowing down.
"Take the wheel," Beckett ordered, rolling down her window.
Castle stared at her. "What?"
"Take the wheel, Castle!" Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the windowsill with her left hand and pulled herself half out of the window. Her right hand freed her gun from its holster.
"Jesus!" Castle leaned over and grabbed the wheel, wishing she could have given him control over the brakes instead of the steering. "What are you doing?"
Beckett didn't respond. Transferring her gun to her left hand, she steadied herself with her right and took aim. It was all Castle could do to hold the wheel steady as she opened fire.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
"There is no way," Castle shouted, "that you could possibly hit the guy from here!"
Beckett shouted something. She hadn't stopped shooting, though, so the only word he could make out over the gunfire was, 'lower.'
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Had she said slower? She was the one controlling their speed, not him, and she certainly wasn't easing up on the gas. Castle spared her a glance, saw that she was ignoring him, and decided that whatever her comment had been, it hadn't been for him. Then he saw how close they were to the bridge, and decided it didn't matter. "We're not going to make the crossing," he shouted. "Kate, you have to stop the car!"
Perhaps it was the first name usage that got her attention—which was just as well, as his Plan B involved jiggling the steering wheel to get her attention, and he didn't want to jostle her out of the car. Grumbling under her breath, Beckett pulled herself back into the driver's seat. "I almost had it!" she snapped, giving him an accusing glare.
"What, the bridge?" he incredulously replied. Then, bracing himself, he shrieked, "Brakes!"
The car screeched to a halt only a few feet shy of the nearly vertical expanse of roadway their quarry had crossed a minute before. For a few lingering moments, both of the car's occupants were silent.
Castle cleared his throat and pried his fingers off of the arm rest. "Did you really think you could somehow lower the bridge by shooting at it?" he asked in a deceptively light tone.
Beckett leaned against the steering wheel and scowled out the windshield. "Shut up, Castle."