Soon, Beckett's back at the loft and in the hallway she crosses two uniforms carrying the package on their way outside.
"Do you think I should cancel the Halloween party this weekend?" Castle asks his bodyguard after the guys have left.
"I don't think that's necessary," she shrugs. She's sitting on one of the stools and the writer is standing on the other side of the counter. "We'll put one of the boys at the entrance and the other one will monitor the party."
"And what will you be doing? Oh, and remember, costumes are mandatory," he adds with a smirk, apparently completely forgetting the seriousness of the matter they were discussing.
"Espo and Ryan will be here. I won't be needed."
"Oh, c'mon. You have to be here!"
"Why?" she challenges him. It won't hurt her to miss one of his little gatherings.
"You don't even need to come to work. And you can invite your ME ghoul fried. It'll be fun!"
"My friend has a name, it's Lanie. And yeah, I'm already familiar with the kind of fun you have at your parties," she looks at him pointedly and he narrows his eyes.
He won't ever live that down, will he?
"How about trick or treating? You don't want to go with me and Alexis go get some candy? I'll be completely appropriate, I promise," he says, like a child who wants his mother to buy him something he doesn't need.
"I'll think about it," she tells him, mostly so he can stop bugging her. "Now, at what time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?"
Beckett and Esposito escort their boss into the hotel where the fundraiser gala is taking place. Around them, people are stepping out of fancy town cars and putting on smiles so bright they're probably forced.
Just another day at the office, the brunette sighs as she motions for Esposito to go in first to scan the place before Castle goes in.
Right as they're about to enter the building, though, Beckett spots a young woman at the entrance checking them out. And as soon as she looks at her, she's pretty sure she's not seeing that particular blonde for the first time.
Even though the woman is wearing enough mascara to sink a freighter, the brunette is pretty sure she recognizes her.
Two days ago, outside of Castle's building, there was a woman standing at the curb, watching as they walked inside. She made a note of it because she was just standing there doing nothing, and the way she looked at her boss was suspicious to say the least.
Now, Beckett can't say with absolute certainty this is the same woman, but her instincts rarely fail her. Two sightings usually means a coincidence, but this particular bodyguard doesn't believe in coincidences.
And, even though the blonde is dressed to the nines, she doesn't mesh with the sophisticated crowd around them. Her makeup is too extreme, her dress too flashy, her heels too high. When someone doesn't fit the profile for the occasion, it's always a red flag.
As they pass her, the woman turns towards them slowly, giving Castle a suggestive smile and he matches it with one of his own. But the bodyguard senses something about the woman's demeanor that goes beyond the usual high-society mating ritual she's used to witnessing.
Something's going on, so Beckett will make sure on keeping an eye on her for the evening.
As Castle steps into the ballroom, the same feeling of déjà vu that he always feels on these events passes over him.
Mile-long buffet – check. Silent auction – check. Bar in every corner – check. Young, sexy society women looking for husbands – check. Ingratiating people who want his money – check.
Just once he'd like to see something different. Something new. Maybe a margarita machine, or a rock band instead the symphony strings. Karaoke. A wet T-shirt contest. Anything.
But he has to show up. Otherwise Gina would have his head. Besides, he wants a distraction. What a better place to find one?
After alerting Esposito to the suspicious blonde situation, Beckett stands once again in the sidelines as Castle goes around the room full of politicians and the whole bunch of the New York elite. But most importantly, full of dazzling daddy's girls or divorcees looking for an easy mark.
And as much as she doesn't understand the attraction, all she has to focus on is on keeping his body and soul together. And that's exactly what she'll do. Nothing more.
At some moment during the evening, after making nice with the head of the foundation and taking maybe a couple too many martinis, the novelist makes his way to his bodyguard.
"So, you enjoying yourself?"
"You certainly seem to be," she quirks an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah, well, you know how it is," he shrugs.
"Do you know that woman?" she asks her boss. "The one by the buffet table in the silver sequined skirt up to her ass?"
Castle turns to look at the woman in question, who turns out to be the same blonde that smiled at him as they were coming in.
She's indeed showing a few more inches of thigh than the average woman there and Beckett doesn't seem to approve, but he doesn't happen to object so much.
Does he know her? No. Is he going to get to know her? Absolutely.
"Never seen her before tonight," he barely looks at his bodyguard as he speaks.
"I have. She may be following you. And she's barely taken her eyes off you tonight."
Castle smiles turning back to Beckett, not able to help himself. "Ah, women… They just can't seem to control themselves around me."
"There's a chance she's just a groupie. She's probably seen you on page six and she's hoping to snag a handsome millionaire," she ignores him in her no-nonsense tone.
"So you think I'm handsome," he smirks.
"I'm just quoting the article."
"Well, if it's in print it must be true."
"Right. Page six. Journalism at its finest," Beckett rolls her eyes, before getting back to watching the girl. "There's something fishy about her. She doesn't belong here."
"Maybe you're right," Castle shrugs. "Maybe I should check her out. Get closer. Infiltrate her evil plot," he says mockingly.
"You're not taking this seriously."
Duh. There's no reason to. What could that woman do to him?
Well, that's exactly what he's going to find out. Without another word, he leaves his bodyguard's side.
The woman turns and smiles appreciatively when she sees him approach her.
Beckett stays behind, biting her lip, unsure of what to do. Should she let him go on? I mean, she warned him. Besides, if she is planning something, Beckett will make sure she doesn't go too far.
Right as she's going to make the decision to just leave it alone and watch them, the blonde pushes her body against the novelist's and starts tugging at his coat, giggling.
A feeling of dread and something else she can't quite pinpoint takes hold of Beckett and she decides that the girl's already gone too far. She signals Esposito, who's standing at the other end of the ballroom, to go with her towards Castle.
She moves through the crowd and when she reaches them, he's in the middle of throwing her one of his pickup lines. When she interrupts them, the woman doesn't look pleased, and she looks the newcomer up, obviously not considering her a rival.
"Castle," she takes his shoulder, pulling him toward her. "We're leaving," she states simply leaving no room for arguing.
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"We have to go," she's now pulling him to the entrance followed by Esposito.
"But we were just talking," a thought crosses his mind, getting him all cheeky as he lets himself be pulled outside. "Are you jealous?"
"I'm doing what you pay me to do."
"You know, you have a tendency to keep me from having fun."
"Yeah, well. I have a tendency to keep you alive. Whether it's good for the world or not, I'll get you back home in one piece."
"Do you have to be so dramatic?"
Beckett narrows her eyes, turning to look at him, stopping in their tracks. "Are you forgetting the Powell incident, or the Russinan mobsters?"
"That just got a little out of hand."
"Mm-hmm. Well, it's time to go home now."
They stand like that, her pressing her hand against his chest and him wobbling tipsily, for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Suddenly, she's asking herself the motives for the interruption, but she quickly brushes the self-doubt as she turns around and they continue walking.
She did it for his own good. That woman was too suspicious to just be looking for an easy mark.
Esposito walks in front of them, and when he notices they've stopped, he stops too. When he sees that they're just gazing into each other's eyes, he gets a smirk on his face. They're so not subtle. But when he's about to call out for them, they've started walking again, so he just continues toward the car.
As they approach the vehicle, Beckett notices the look on her partner's face, and she knows exactly what it's about. She hops into the driver's seat, ignoring Espo's cheeky sideways glances, and she just knows he's about to give her some grief.
"So," he says once they've dropped their boss off and they stand outside of the building. "You and Castle…"
"There's no me and Castle," she says pointedly.
"Oh, really? Because that jealous rage you pulled back there suggests otherwise," he shrugs, enjoying giving his boss a hard time.
Beckett rolls her eyes. "She looked suspicious. I didn't want to take my chances."
"She was the average bimbo. Haven't you gotten used to seeing him around them yet?"
"She didn't look like she belonged there."
"Uh-huh," he throws her a skeptical look.
She can't believe she's actually explaining herself to him. "Night, Espo," she says simply before walking away.
Soon, October 31st rolls by, and Beckett's still putting off calling Brad Dekker. When she asked her friend for someone, she was determined to get moving immediately, but the more she thinks about it, the more stupid this idea sounds.
Nothing is ever going to happen between her and Castle. Never. Ever. Why does she need to make a statement by going out with someone? She's fine alone.
Castle and Alexis stand dressed up outside of the building, anxious to begin trick or treating.
The novelist's jaw drops when he sees someone pull up in front of them in a black '94 Harley softail. Is that…
His suspicions are confirmed when the bodyguard takes of the full head helmet, which matches with the rest of her tight, black leather outfit…
Since the boys started working with them, Castle started noticing a shift in Beckett's wardrobe. She's graduated to plain-clothes, trading her hallmark pantsuits for leather jackets and more comfortable-looking shirts, showing off her femininity and the novelist's definitely not complaining about it. But this…
She slides off her bike, unzips her jacket and walks towards them, a smirk tugging at her lips. She doesn't miss her boss' flabbergasted expression and she bites her lower lip, trying to hide the satisfaction in her face.
So much for not making a statement.
By the time she reaches them, Castle's jaw is still hanging.
The girl's dressed as Hermione and he's dressed as that Captain from Firefly. Actually, now that she comes to think about it, there definitely is a resemblance…
"Someone's in a hurry," she says, also noticing the two cups of designer coffee in his hands, from the coffee shop across the street.
"Yeah," he says, picking his jaw of the floor. "We were a little excited."
"Do you think I can leave this with the doorman?" she lifts her helmet.
"Yeah, sure."
When she's back, he gives her a cup. As soon as their fingers brush around the cup, unexpected warmth envelopes Beckett's body, and trying to downplay it, she quickly brings the cup to her lips. She takes off the lid in order to cool the liquid, and Castle narrows his eyes, obviously catching her now rosy cheeks.
"You look hot."
Alexis does a double take, looking at her father in utter confusion. Beckett's reaction on the other hand, makes her spill half of her cup all over her shirt.
She gasps and the novelist opens his mouth incredulously, knowing he just got himself in trouble.
"Excuse me?" the bodyguard half-whispers, looking down in disbelief at the mess she just made and trying to not just throw the rest at him.
"No, no, no," he says quickly. "I mean, as in flushed, overheated, in heat?"
She looks up at him, shooting daggers and pressing her lips into a line.
"Do you… Do you want to go clean up upstairs?" he says slowly, eyes wide.
She simply nods, not taking her killer look off his innocent-looking-child expression.
She cleans up, but there's still a nice brown stain in her sky blue shirt.
During all the time they're trick or treating, Beckett doesn't say much more than two words to her boss. She's fuming and he knows it.
Honestly, he's kind of fascinated of how she worked her up back there. That wasn't even his intention. As a matter of fact, he though she was the one who was toying with him.
But now, he's sure of one thing. He won't be expecting her at his Halloween party.
One more glance at her eyes, which are still shooting daggers at him as they go back to his building, confirms his suspicions.
Ryan and Esposito are already waiting for them, holding two matching cups of coffee, in front of the entrance.
Kevin looks at her and a smile lights his face. "I'd offer you coffee, but I see you're already wearing yours."
"Hilarious. You should host your own morning show," she rolls her eyes.
They walk inside and as they go for the elevators, she walks to the front desk to get her helmet. "They're all yours boys. Night," she turns to them before going outside.
A few minutes later, as she walks into her building, she pulls out her cellphone and dials a number.
"Yeah? Brad?" she asks into the receiver, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. "This is Kate Beckett."
"Detective Beckett?" a masculine voice asks. "Hi," he continues, clearly smiling. "Dr. Parish told me all about you."
Did she now? "Yeah? Listen… Are you by any chance free later tonight?"
AN: I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to review, follow and favorite. You guys rock!