Chapter 2: A Hard Bargain

The next couple of days passed with a sense of calmness almost foreign to the workers at the Twelfth. They closed the case they were investigating, and the paperwork was done within twelve hours, which meant they could sit back and relax until a new murder made its way to them. However, Beckett was still fuming, recalling their encounter with her old friend. What was Castle thinking, accepting an invitation like that without her permission? Not that she would have agreed, had he asked her. The idea of being in a relationship with Castle, even a fabricated one, was preposterous. It wasn't going to happen. No way.

But Beckett knew he was dead set on going to the party, even if he hadn't said that much about it. For the last couple of days, he'd been unusually quiet and eager to please her in every way possible, from the extra bear claw he'd presented her with yesterday morning to the help he offered with the paperwork. Hell, he had even stopped fumbling with the radio in the car. Part of the reason for his silence, undoubtedly, was his fear of Beckett's reaction if they talked about his betrayal. Well, that was a very strong word. More like… insubordination.

Finally, on Friday morning, on their way to see a suspect, Castle seemed to pluck up the courage to bring up the invitation to the Hamptons party, and what that entitled.

"So… about this weekend…" he started.

"Not going to happen, Castle," Beckett cut him off, her eyes never leaving the road.

If Castle heard the warning in her sharp tone, he ignored it. He turned in his seat, positioning himself in a way that allowed him to face her as much as possible. And that task, given the lack of space inside the Crown Vic, was impressive in itself. When he was settled, he took a deep breath, and after a moment, he spoke again, this time trying a different approach. "Come on, Beckett! Don't you want to wipe that smug little smirk out of her face?"

"I don't need to prove myself to anyone, Castle."

"True... but don't you want to make her realize that her 'perfect' life is nothing but?" Beckett could feel the pleading look in his eyes, even without looking.

"And how am I supposed to do that, genius?" she inquired, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Just by showing up. I'm sure she doesn't expect us to actually go to the party."

"That makes two of us," she deadpanned.

"But—"

"We're here," she stated, as she parked the car in front of her suspect's building, effectively ending the discussion.

Castle was, as Beckett found out that day, nothing if not persistent. Since the conversation that morning in the car, he tried to broach the subject every time the opportunity arose- and even when it didn't. By the end of the day, Beckett was so worked up that she was tempted to say yes, just to make him shut up. They were still arguing while she turned off her computer and started gathering her things to head home.

"Castle, we've been over this for hours. I'm not going to Trisha's party. And that's it," she repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

"But—" he started, but she wasn't in the mood for any more back and forth.

"Look, if you're so intent on mingling with the Hamptons elite, you can go by yourself," Beckett said with a sigh, tiredness tinging her voice.

"No way! And she was your friend, not mine. It would be considered very rude if you don't go," he offered, quite rushedly. As the day progressed, his attempts had gotten more and more desperate. It would be kind of cute, if it wasn't so incredibly annoying.

"You know? Maybe you're right." At her words, Castle's face brightened instantly. "I should go to the party… by myself."

It was almost comical how fast he could switch facial expressions.

"Are you out of your mind? You want to go to a Hamptons party alone? They'll eat you alive!" he practically shouted, a terrified look in his wide eyes.

"Please," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "If they're anything like you, I'm sure I'll manage."

But, truth was, she didn't want to go alone, and Castle knew that too. He must have sensed that she was on the verge of agreeing, so he pushed in a last effort.

"I will bring you coffee every day for the rest of the month!"

"You already do that, Castle," she answered without missing a beat, as she headed for the elevator, the writer on her tail.

"Fine, for the rest of the year. If you prefer, I can make you breakfast in bed…" he suggested, quirking an eyebrow playfully. She only glared at him in response.

"Aaaand I'll do your laundry," he threw out like it was an offer she couldn't refuse, as she stepped into the elevator. The hopeful look in his puppy-dog eyes was almost too much for Beckett, and suddenly, she started to wonder how it would be to spend the weekend alone with him, outside the precinct. She had to admit the image wasn't so bad after all- not that she'd ever admit that to Castle, of course.

Before she could change her mind, she hastily made her offer. "Front row tickets for a baseball game of my choice. And I want you to arrange for my dad to meet Joe Torre."

Castle's eyes lit up in excitement. "Deal," he blurted out, almost bouncing on his toes in boyish glee.

"Pick me up in an hour," she said, trying to keep the smile off of her face as she jabbed the button for the building's garage. As the elevator doors closed, Castle was still standing frozen in the hallway, a huge smile seemingly etched onto his face.

Beckett certainly hoped she wouldn't regret this decision later.

Of course, Beckett had insisted on driving, even though they were taking Castle's car to the party. However, he had been more than happy to relinquish his keys for the evening. He'd do anything to make her feel comfortable enough not to kill him at the first opportunity she got.

He still couldn't believe that she had agreed to come so readily. Well, so it wasn't exactly easy, but it had only taken him a few tries before she caved. He didn't even had to go to plan B, which was great, because he hadn't come up with one.

For the first part of their journey, Castle had been the picture of confidence, chatting animatedly and aimlessly. As they approached the Hamptons, though, his nerves skyrocketed, to the point that he couldn't stop fidgeting in his seat, which, in turn, had unnerved Beckett, who kept throwing daggers with her eyes in his direction.

Finally, after several minutes of uncomfortable silence, interrupted only by Castle shifting in his seat, they reached their destination.

If he didn't think Patricia was rich when they encountered her earlier that week, the sight of her house made that fact perfectly clear. It was more like a mansion, really, complete with the wide porch, elegant columns, and a huge garden. He was sure that from the large bay windows on the second floor, there would be a magnificent view of the sunrise from the front of the house, and perhaps an even better view from the back- the sunset overlooking the ocean. He was certain that there was a big pool somewhere, too.

A valet hurried from the house to welcome them, but when he tried to open the door for Beckett, she shooed him away with her hand, perhaps with a gesture that was a bit more rude than necessary.

She turned to Castle, taking a deep breath. "Okay, Castle. If we're doing this, we need to establish some ground rules. If you don't follow them, I'll consider my part of this deal fulfilled and I'll go home. With or without you. Understood?"

"I'm not a big fan of rules," he stated slowly, wary of her conditions.

"I've noticed," she muttered, taking a deep breath and throwing a glance to the impressive house.

"Oh, come on, Beckett! Where's your sense of adventure? You don't have to always control the situation," he said cheerily.

"In this case, I do. Otherwise, who knows what you might end up agreeing to?"

Okay, she had a point- this wasn't the first time his big mouth had gotten him into trouble. There was that time with the stripper and the mobster in Chicago… thank God Gina was there to save his ass. Although, in hindsight, the argument that ensued had not been enjoyable at all… oh, and that time with the bicycle and the monkey… that had been fun…

"Castle!" Beckett's shout snapped him back to reality.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"Rules!" she exclaimed, exasperated.

"Right, rules. Well, Detective Beckett, I'm all ears." He made a show of listening to her, sitting back in his seat and crossing his hands in his lap, eyebrows raised in mock anticipation.

"Okay, first of all, no more agreeing to plans without consulting me. Your decisions don't only affect you." When he nodded, she continued. "No touching things, no cute stories, and no pet names."

"Fine. That would have been hilarious, but fine."

"And we're leaving tonight, before dinner," she continued, ignoring his comment.

"Fine by me—wait, what?"

"You heard me, Castle. We will say that Alexis got sick, and that she needs us back at home."

"But that's not fair! The party won't start until tonight, and you want us to miss it completely? We'll spend more time on the road than in the house!"

Beckett raised her eyebrows in disapproval and, rather than answer him, put the car into gear, turning the wheel as if she were about to drive away.

"Okay, okay, okay! Geez, Beckett, way to kill the fun here."

"That's the idea," she said, shifting the car back into park. "Now, let's go inside. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can be on our way."

Castle was having a blast. Any other person in his situation would have probably found that fact odd, considering the amount of time they had spent standing awkwardly in the lobby, waiting for Patricia, but the expression that was currently on Beckett's face was enough entertainment to make the entire evening worth it. Her brow furrowed in concentration, head cocked to the side and hands twitching, opening and closing in fists, she was having a weird stare-down with an abstract sculpture, probably trying to decide what on earth it represented.

One look at his partner was enough to tell that she was completely out of her comfort zone. Her posture was stiff, almost defensive, and she kept looking around, with what Castle supposed was an attempt of masking how nervous she actually felt. She would probably be able to fool anyone else, but he knew her too well.

Of course, Castle had to admit that the hall where they were standing was beyond impressive, but he knew the world of the Hamptons elite enough to take it as it was: a carefully set trap to make the newly-arrived feel inferior. During his years as a millionaire and a member of the Hamptons elite, he had seen dozens of houses like this. Yes, the black and white tiled floors created a beautiful contrast with the curves of the wide staircase that connected with the second floor; and the paintings and sculptures that crowded the space wouldn't be out of place in an art gallery, but Castle was sure that the whole thing was designed by professionals, with the only purpose of causing a powerful first impression. It wasn't just a first glance at the house, but also its owner's life.

This was just another variation on the same entryway he'd seen dozens of times- substitute a Rembrandt with a Van Gogh; change the carpeting on the staircase from white to cream; replace the sculpture halfway resembling a spaceship with a tall vase containing an arrangement of exotic flowers- they were all the same. The theatrics of the room had no affect on him, and he found it much more entertaining to study his companion, who was completely lost in thought while she examinated the sculpture.

Of course, their hostess was taking her sweet time in coming to greet them, but that was also part of the game. That way, they would have enough time to be overwhelmed by the demonstration of power surrounding them and to worry about what they would say and how they would act as soon as she showed up. Castle wasn't too preoccupied about that; he never followed a plan in his social interactions and he wasn't the least bit worried about how rich and influential their hosts were.

Beckett, on the contrary, obviously felt completely out of place. In the few minutes they had been waiting, she had tried to fix her hair with her hand twice, despite the fact that every strand was lying perfectly in place, and she seemed intent on pulling on the hem of her white shirt to the point of making it grow at least a couple of inches. Not to mention the way in which she couldn't stop shifting her weight from one leg to the other, a motion that couldn't be comfortable in the heels she was wearing- higher than usual, if Castle wasn't mistaken.

Her behavior puzzled him to no end- he'd never seen her nervous like this before. Until this point, she was always so collected and confident in front of him, even in the face of the most despicable and crafty criminals in the city. He couldn't help but wonder if what had thrown her off balance was their current environment- so different from the precinct- or the idea of having to pretend to be in a romantic relationship with him.

Oh, yes, Castle was definitely going to make the most of this situation. There was nothing more satisfying for him than pulling Beckett's pigtails and the sweet victory of beating her in her own game. That was the reason why he was so thrilled about the possibility of being her made-up boyfriend- just to drive Beckett crazy. Nothing more. There was nothing romantic about it, and he didn't expect to achieve anything. He knew exactly what his relationship with Beckett was and where the limits were. She made sure to clearly define those boundaries every single day.

After several minutes of contemplative silence, their hostess finally honored them with her presence, and she didn't lose the opportunity to make a big entrance, stroding elegantly towards them, on top of a pair of bright red heels that matched her cocktail dress.

"Hello, dearies! My apologies," she trilled, waving her hand in apology. Nobody let me know you were here."

Ah, the Hamptons; there was always someone lower in the social structure to blame.

"Patricia, hi! Don't worry about us; we were admiring your beautiful pieces," Castle answered, gesturing toward the horrendous sculpture.

The blonde woman hugged them in turn, effusively declaring her joy upon seeing them standing awkwardly in the lobby.

"It's so wonderful you could come!" The excitement in Patricia's voice made her sound just like a kid at Christmas, and Castle had to work to keep his face even, not letting a smirk betray him.

"We wouldn't dream of missing it," Beckett answered with a kind smile, without a trace of her previous nervousness. "Are we late?" she asked, signaling the double doors through which Patricia just made her entrance. It appeared that those doors led to a garden, from where a distant cacophony of voices, music and laughter was making its way to them.

"Not at all, not at all!" Patricia reassured. "Some of our friends arrived this morning. Well, in fact, you're the last ones," she added, with an exaggerated chuckle. "I wasn't sure you were going to make it."

"We would have come earlier, but we had to work," Beckett pointed out, a smile still plastered on her face, and Castle felt the urge to do a little victory dance at her use of the word "we".

"Of course! You're right on time. But don't stay there! Allow me to show you the rest of the house." While she talked, Patricia led them through a wide hallway to their left that ended in a large living room, as big as the whole homicide floor of the 12th. A spectacular sunset could be seen through its windows.

"Nice view," Castle complimented.

"Thank you, Rick," the woman gracefully accepted, "but you haven't seen anything yet. This way, please," she said, guiding them through the double doors that led to the garden.

Beckett's head was spinning. The house was spectacular, but its magnificence had little to do with her predicament. The tour of the property was coming to an end, after nearly half an hour of listening to Patricia's uninterrupted babbling about the perfection of her house, her fiancé and her so called job, sprinkled with more than a few jabs about Beckett's "ordinary" life, as the blonde woman so kindly put it.

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with ordinary, dear. If nobody had an ordinary life, how would we tell apart the interesting ones?"

Throughout the entire tour, Beckett had to keep repeating to herself that punching her old friend in the face was not going to get her anywhere. At the end of the visit, though, she was so riled up that she was ready to pounce.

Castle must have sensed that, because suddenly he started to palm the front of his suit, extracting his cell phone from the pocket a moment later. At the others' questioning glances, he excused himself.

"Sorry, it's on vibrate. It startled me." Looking at the screen, he frowned. "Excuse me, I have to take this. It's Alexis," he said, giving Beckett a meaningful look before he retired down the hall in search of some privacy.

He must had inherited some of Martha's acting genes, because Beckett had seen the black screen of the device pretty clearly, indicating that there was no such call. Patricia, next to her, seemed unaware of that particular detail, thankfully. She felt a surge of gratitude towards the man. He knew how to follow instructions, after all.

"It's his daughter, Alexis," Beckett felt like she needed to explain. "There's nothing more important to him than her."

"I see," Patricia said in a knowing tone.

"What?" Beckett questioned, genuinely confused.

"Well, it's clear that his mind was somewhere else all this time. Now I see his priorities. Forget me darling, but he didn't strike me as… committed to your relationship."

"What do you mean?" Beckett let out through clenched teeth. Patricia's declaration stung, for a reason she didn't want to analyze just yet.

"Oh, it's probably just in my head, darling. Don't worry about it." After a short silence, Beckett thought the conversation was over, but she was mistaken. "I just didn't see any chemistry between you two," Patricia added, sighing wistfully.

Beckett's mouth dropped open. How dare Patricia say that? She and Castle had chemistry. Crazy chemistry! Everybody said so. Not that she cared, of course. This woman just had the ability to get on her nerves. That's the excuse she told herself when she heard Castle's steps behind her, and something possessed her into pronouncing her next words.

"Everything okay with Alexis, Rick? Is she having fun at Paige's?"

"At… Paige's? She's not… I mean, what do you… er… well, she's…" He fumbled with his words, utterly confused. It was kind of cute, actually.

Beckett turned her attention back to Patricia, a gentle smile on her face."Alexis is with some friends for the weekend," she lied. "That's perfect, isn't it? That way, we can spend all weekend here."

"Fantastic!" their hostess squeaked, clapping her hands in excitement. "Oh, I'm so elated that you're here! This is going to be such a fun weekend, isn't it?"

Patricia continued babbling, elaborating on all of the wonderful things they could do together over the next couple of days, and Beckett turned to look at Castle, who was frozen in place, a look of total confusion on his face. She quirked an eyebrow and smirked at him, resisting the urge to laugh as he slowly trailed after them, shaking his head slowly.

If staying meant that she could find at least a couple of occasions to render Castle speechless and leave that dumbstruck look on his face, so be it. Maybe he was right. She needed to have more fun. And she had just found the way.

Thank you so much to everyone that has read, reviewed or followed. It means a lot. And as usual, thank you to my beta, encantadaa.