She's Everything

Warrior

His heart is in his guts and he's not sure if it's because of the sucker punch or because of the way Beckett looks walking back to him, fierce and indomitable and-

"Hey," he breathes out, and glances up at her. "Thanks very much for your help."

Very much? So lame-

"No problem, Castle." Her eyes grow dim as she looks at him, then flash again. "It's what partners are supposed to do."

She walks away from him, all strutting and strong and tall, and he wishes he wasn't still doubled over or he'd go after her.

He goes after her anyway, when he's a little more manly again, and finds her in the conference room, shuffling through photographic evidence. A case he knows nothing about - a reminder that she still has a job to do even when he's not here.

Beckett glances up at him, a mask over her face, strong as armor. She says nothing.

He goes for a smile that falls flat. "Hey."

She straightens the glossy full-sheet photos, lays them back down in the file folder. "What do you need, Castle." No question, really, just a glittering hardness to her voice that puts him on warning.

"Vales-"

"He won't make trouble for you."

For - for him? Ohhh, he hadn't thought of - of retribution.

"Castle?"

He nods at that, wipes a hand down his face. "I - uh - that didn't occur to me."

"Well. I took care of it."

There are so many things. And he just - he wishes he could say them, but he thinks he's lost even that right, but maybe he should.

"Also," she says, her voice sardonic. "I don't want him in my city."

He bobs his head at that, comes through the door and closer to where she stands. The conference room table is between them. "Thanks for - you're a good partner, Ka-"

The look on her face stops him.

"Beckett."

An eyebrow. Okay. So he's - uh - he's not forgiven? He's not sure.

Still, he's gonna say it. It's got be said.

Uh, no. No he can't.

Another raised eyebrow, that fierce look that makes him step back.

"You're right," he starts. "It used to work well. But maybe not - not so much recently."

Wow. She's gorgeous even when she's looking at him like that - like she wants to drop him. And fierce. Has he said that? Yeah. But still. Absolutely fierce. Nothing can stand in her way, nothing gets past her, nothing-

Well, okay, some stuff gets past her. She doesn't seem to have a clue as to why he's so hurt, and he's gotta stop that. It's immature, and she's an Amazon woman right now, and it's probably not a good idea to cross her.

And it's not being a good partner. He wanted to at least - at least to do that one thing well. If he can't do the rest.

"Not so much recently?" Narrowed eyes, a hand on her hip, two fingers pressed against the table as she studies him. As if she's saying, Whose fault is that?

"Yeah." He nods and ducks his head, clears his throat. "I uh."

She continues to regard him, and he can't figure out why exactly he feels the need to apologize. Because she promised him-

Oh wait. She only ever promised this right here.

Exactly what she's been doing this whole time. She's been his partner. She's promised to have his back, stand with him in the fight (unlike Slaughter, who ate bar snacks and chuckled to himself). And Castle should be able to return the favor; she deserves no less.

"Yeah," she says quietly, steel in her voice. "Well, I've got another hour of this and then-"

"I'll stay," he says quickly, taking it. Not sure what it is, only that she still makes him defensive and churlish and he needs to work on that. He needs to figure out a way to not hurt so very damn much when she's around, because she - as his partner - deserves better.

She pauses, then nods briskly. "Okay."

His chest eases. "Need some coffee?"

She curls her hand around the top of the file on the table, her mouth spreading in that thin-lipped smile. When she lifts her head to look at him, it's like she's laying down her sword.

A sigh escapes her lips. "Yeah. I do, actually. Coffee would be - welcome."

Good.

At least he's accomplished a ceasefire.

Tomorrow.

Okay. That's it. They've had their detente these past couple of weeks - Castle coming in when he feels like it and carefully avoiding her, cases where they stand at opposite sides of the board and talk around each other, and then these strange moments where he watches her struggle with the espresso machine and doesn't help until she's actually been burned or given up.

She doesn't get it.

Or well, she didn't.

Until this case.

Until-

And she just went out on a thin little branch of a limb to tell him - tell him all that - the wall - and what? He gets to stare dumbly at her and take it all back and she just - she makes eyes at him and feels like she's in tenth grade all over again and then-

Beckett spins around on her heel, mouth open to say something, anything - strong and forceful and strident - but she finds him right at her chest, a startled noise coming out of his mouth, hands up to grab her by the elbows and hold her in place.

As a zombie.

She tries in vain to marshal her defenses, but all those biting commands have fled, and instead she stumbles back.

He's a damn attractive zombie. So not fighting fair.

"Hey, I'm gonna go scare my kid," he grins.

And oh. Oh, how - how happy he looks.

No. No, wait. He doesn't get to do this. "So that's it?" she gets out.

He opens his mouth, closes it, the dark smudge of make-up creates a gaping effect that does strange things to her stomach.

"That's - this whole - all of this has been about. . .about that?"

And yeah, she hears herself, thank you, she does. And yeah, she still - they still aren't coming at it head on, are they? They keep coming at it from the side. It'll have to do for now.

"All this?"

"The whole - not - not so much recently," she says, trying to nudge his memory.

If possible, the human half of his face grows a little green. "Ah. I - Could - Yes."

The ignored calls, the stewardess, the glowering looks, the ride-along with Slaughter - all of that was because he didn't know the whole truth and he jumped to conclusions. Erroneous conclusions.

Her heart is pounding and she doesn't even know why. She tastes blood in her mouth, feels that rush of adrenaline that sings fight through her whole body, but she doesn't even know from which direction her enemy comes.

From his?

Best let it go. Sideways, Beckett, remember? Come at it sideways.

"Hey," he says quickly. "I've got to go win the world's longest-running game of laser tag, but later, there's dinner-"

She shakes her head. "No. That's okay. Who knows how long laser-tag and - and zombies? - how long that takes."

"You could wait," he says quietly.

It's entirely disconcerting, his face half gnarled, his eyes an unnatural blue but intense and fixed on her.

You could wait.

She doesn't know how - she is either fighting or fleeing, and to be honest, she does all of her running away just like this. Shaking her head, stepping back. Retreat and regroup, come back tomorrow.

Right? Tomorrow. They can do battle or draw peace tomorrow.

She presses her lips together, unwilling to allow the weakness.

Man up, Beckett.

"Okay," she says on a rush of choppy confidence. She swallows past her heart in her throat. "Okay, I'll wait. Dinner."

The zombie smiles, the man beams. "Yeah. I - I'll text you when the battle is over."

It's not even close to over, but -

But it's a battle of a different kind.

"You do that. I'll be here," she finishes, then lightly pushes him away.

He shuffles off, glancing back at her once over his shoulder, still with that pleased smile on his face, entirely ruining the effect.

That's okay. A little undead never hurt them.