A/N: See disclaimer in Chapter 1. Beta'd.
Chapter 8: Ante Off
"The job is done?" The statement is posed as a question, but Dick Coonan knows it is anything but; the man who poses the question to him wants nothing less than affirmation. He remains cool, calm and collected, but he can feel his hands start to sweat –
It's done." Coonan's lying through his teeth, hoping his employer won't notice.
He doesn't. "Good. You know the drill – don't contact me. I will contact you."
Coonan cannot help but let a grin slip – out of relief. He nocks his head to the side, commenting cockily, "Of course."
He can't get out of D.C. fast enough.
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Rick doesn't head home right away. Instead, he makes his way to his favourite bar, The Old Haunt, a place he hasn't been to since Alexis was born. He stands in front of the door for a while, shivering, before pushing it open.
It's just as he left it, all those years ago. Eddie plays the first few chords of Rick's song, and Rick fishes a couple bills from his coat pocket, leaving a generous tip for the pianist, and surprised Eddie still remembers him.
"You haven't been here for a while, Mr. Castle," the bartender observes. "Sit down, sit down!"
"Leo," He tries to come across as warm, but the weariness and sadness from his day creeps into his voice.
The bartender pushes a drink into his hands, and Rick finds himself ushered into his usual spot. He reaches into his pocket for his wallet, only to be told "it's on the house".
And then he is left alone. He takes out his notebook, half-heartedly jotting down random thoughts. He knows they'll be completely useless later, but he can't bear to actually let the weight of his day sink into the forefront of his mind. He scans the room, people-watching; he sees a happy couple in the corner, an irritation in his eye as he identifies that they're still in their honeymoon stage; the lonely drunk in the corner – who's been there since Rick had first stepped into the bar – chatting up a storm with a woman who has no interest in him (who could blame her, Rick thinks); the guys in the back, roaring at and with the hockey game blaring on the TV screen.
So intent is he in watching other people that he is surprised when someone slides into his booth, almost going entirely unnoticed, had he not bumped into Rick's knee while sliding in. And this someone…is utterly drunk. Rick recoils at the sour beer he can smell coming from the other man's breath.
Rick moves to leave for another booth, but the man – boy – drunk out of his mind, grabs him. "C'mon, don't you want to know about the farm?"
There's something about his tone that makes Rick pause. "Sorry, I don't really like agriculture."
The boy lets out a squeal of a laugh. "Agriculture!" He takes a deep gulp from his glass. "Not that kind of farm!" He grins and extends his hand. "I'mma Jimmy by the way."
Rick shakes the proffered hand gingerly, making a mental note to wash his hand later. "Rick."
"Y'know what I'm talking about, don'tcha?" Jimmy slurps his drink, and slaps the table.
And abruptly, Rick does know. "You're talking about Langley." He pauses. "Wait. You work for the CIA?"
"Right in one!" Jimmy points his finger at Rick – or rather, in Rick's general direction, slurring his words. "You're a smart one. But it's such a pain." He looks mournfully at Rick before gulping down more alcohol. "No fun, all work. My boss is a total hardass – hey I recognize you. You're that famous author."
No duh, Rick thinks. They are sitting under his photo. He replies, "Yep. That'd be me. So, uhh, you're really CIA? Then is Jimmy your actual name?"
Of all the chances, meeting a CIA operative in this bar?
"Hell, yeah. James 'Jimmy' Oliver, that's me." He fishes around for something in his pockets. "Here." He thrusts a business card at Rick. "Look. Oh, you should keep it. Well – "
Jimmy passes out on the table.
Rick leaves the boy there, slumped over. He motions to Leo that he's heading out, then he's out in the cold wintry air.
The cab ride home passes quickly; to him, it seems like it was only seconds ago he had hailed the driver – perhaps it's because of the business card he was just handed, burning a figurative hole in his back pocket.
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The next morning, he wakes to the shrill screams of his daughter throwing a tantrum. He prays his mother has it in hand- but knowing her, she doesn't. So he reluctantly rolls out of bed, with a pounding headache and not quite awake.
Abruptly, he hears a crash; startled, he trips over the pants he's trying to pull up, and he curses. Frantically, he puts on his clothes as fast as he can, and rushes to the kitchen, where he's pretty sure where the sounds were coming from.
"Oh, thank heavens, Richard," his mother sighs in relief.
"What's going on?" He notes the broken dishes in the corner, thankfully far away from his crying daughter – and the broom beside the mess. His mother must have been trying to do damage control.
"Alexis doesn't want to go to school," Martha throws her hands in the air. "I can't talk sense into her. I don't understand – she's normally so well-behaved…"
"No school!" Alexis punctuates, petulantly crossing her arms, her little face scrunched by the most ferocious I-am-going-to-yell expression Rick has ever seen.
Rick crouches down, until he is eye-level with his daughter. "Alexis…"
But once he's down there, he notices the tears in her eyes. He sighs, an altogether different sigh that his mother has released; "This isn't really about school, is it, Pumpkin?"
She swipes her arm across her face, trying to brush away the tears leaking fast from her eyes, and she shakes her head. "Papa…"
He stays down there, his parent's intuition telling him she wants to talk, and he settles cross-legged on the floor, and she climbs onto his lap. In the background, he can hear his mother trudging back up the steps.
She sniffles for a while, and Rick leans back against the counter. They sit there for a while – and Rick decides there isn't any way Alexis is going to school today, at least this morning (though he knows they shouldn't make a habit of being truant – Alexis needs to have her schedule normalized quickly, or so her counsellor has said).
"Papa, why do bad things happen?" Alexis turns her face towards him, her bright blue eyes still glimmering with tears. "Like to Aunt Johanna?"
Rick's breath hitches. How on earth can he answer her, when he himself has been wrestling with that very question? Slowly, he breathes out. "Hmmm…Well, what do you think, Alexis?"
Her gaze turns thoughtful despite the tears still threatening – as thoughtful as a young child could be. "Because people aren't always good? And, and people are selfish!"
He is surprised at the vehemence in her voice; making sure to keep his voice even, he admits grudgingly, "Yes that's true." He stares past Alexis, thinking. What else could he tell her? Finally, he continues. "But, Pumpkin, are all people like that? Are all people selfish?"
"Yes!"
Rick folds his hand around her tiny one. "Really, Pumpkin? You think your Papa and Grams and Uncle Jim are selfish people?"
She concedes, "No…but Papa, you and Grams and Uncle Jim aren't normal." Her lip quivers. "Papa, am I selfish?" Rick can see the tears coming again. "Papa, am I bad? Is that why Mama doesn't love me?"
Rick can't help the seething anger he feels rising in his chest at the mention of Meredith. He takes a deep breath, and carefully considers his words. Turning his daughter so that she can see his face clearly, his voice shakes as he sees the big blue eyes glimmering back at him. "Pumpkin…you aren't bad. Not at all. Sometimes you do bad things – like throw a tantrum at Grams this morning – but you aren't bad. A bad person does bad things all the time. A bad person and someone who does bad things are not the same thing. A normal person can sometimes do bad things, but that doesn't make them bad.
He takes another breath. "And Pumpkin, your mother loves you very much. She…just doesn't know how to show it very well. And Alexis, I know how hurtful that is – you have to remember bad actions – when someone does something bad – can hurt someone else, too. Do you understand?"
She nods, and seeing that she is taking his word – albeit with a bit of doubt, he moves on. "Listen, Pumpkin. I, your Grams, and your Uncle Jim, we're normal. This is the way people are supposed act, but sometimes, people just make bad decisions. Does this make sense?"
She nods again. "So, Papa…am I normal, then?"
Rick pulls his daughter into a tight hug, and responds without hesitation. "Yes, Alexis…yes. Yes, you are."
He couldn't pull his daughter off him even if he tried.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Again, I've had this chapter mostly written until real life came and threw more assignments (and in more languages) than my poor brain could handle all at once. Kudos goes to my dear friend who stayed up to beta this chapter. I can promise there'll be more Kate next chapter - I apparently really, really like Castle and Alexis moments. Oh, and thanks for all of you who are now following this story - and, if all 110 of you left a review, I would be very flattered and very happy. Also, I really do want to know what you think - where you think this story is going, characterization points...etc., etc. So until next time, Ce'Nelenia
P.S. I have some outtakes of Kate and Alexis moments that didn't make it into this story. Shall I post them up? CN
