A Future Caskett
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: You know this by now, right? Rating: K Time: See below.
Castle arrived at a quarter to seven with a leather bag in his hand and went straight to Montgomery's office.
"Can I interrupt you for a moment, Captain?" He asked politely.
"Of course. Of course, Mr. Castle. Anytime you want."
"I've been realizing that taking up so much of Detective Beckett's time with my research is going to make life more difficult for you. I thought, that as one gentleman to another, I could show you my appreciation in a small way." Castle placed the bag on Montgomery's desk and began taking out bottle after bottle. "This is Leathmuir whiskey, twelve years old, which I prefer to the twenty-year old. I do hope you'll accept it as a token of my appreciation."
Montgomery was overwhelmed. He had no idea how many months of his salary he'd need to buy just one bottle of Leathmuir, let alone the eight bottles Castle had put on his desk. "Thank you, Mr. Castle, but I'm just happy to keep my superiors happy."
"I'm glad you'll accept this." Castle said, turning away.
"Um, could you close the blinds and lock the door?" Montgomery asked.
Once he was alone in his office, Montgomery opened his locked bottom right desk drawer and removed its contents, including the plastic bottle containing the rotgut he usually had to drink. He carefully put seven bottles away, opened the eighth and poured three fingers into a glass. He drank. He smiled. There was no harsh chemical aftertaste. The whiskey was smooth and rather smoky. It was the best he'd ever had. Even better than the drink the Chief of the Criminal Police had bought him when he made captain. As far as he was concerned, Castle could have Beckett, any way he wanted her. He's an Elite. He'll have Beckett any way he wants no matter what I say or do. He thought.
"What's up for today, Detective?" Castle asked, arriving at her desk.
She had seen him enter Montgomery's office with a bag full of something and leave with an empty bag, but she felt there was no percentage in asking questions about her superiors. "I'm afraid we're on stakeout duty, Mr. Castle. A shoplifter named George Smalls got caught by a store clerk two days ago. Smalls stabbed the clerk to death and went to ground. We're going to keep an eye on his girlfriend's apartment in hopes that he shows up."
"Fine. Shall we use my car, Detective?"
At Kate's direction, Castle parked his car on the top floor of a parking garage. "We can't see anything from here, Beckett."
Kate began to work on Castle's computer. "Behold the wonders of modern technology." The screen lit up with views of every possible entrance to the girlfriend's apartment. "All we have to do is sit here and watch. We also have an audio pickup on the window outside her apartment. We'll get voice or facial recognition if he comes anywhere near."
"Facial recognition? Those pictures don't look very clear. Do you mind if I use my own, Detective?"
Beckett nodded and Castle typed a command into his computer. Soon a dozen tiny flying drones emerged from the front of the car and took off.
"Those are Security Service drones. I've instructed them to land next to the police video cameras and….."The picture changed to a sharp, clear series of shots of the area being covered. "And, there we go. Nothing to it."
It didn't take Castle more than five minutes to get bored. He sent a dozen more drones off to look around the neighborhood. Then he annoyed Kate by making up ridiculous stories about the people he followed through the drones. By the sixth story, she was getting tired of it.
"Now he's hired muscle from some ring of international spies. Look at those shoulders and those arms. They're like tree trunks. He could tear a man in half."
Kate had had enough. "Mr. Castle. Look at the way he walks. He's got serious low back pain, which means he does hard physical labor. If he were a member of a vast, powerful spy ring, he'd get treatment for that. Since he isn't, he has to do the best he can. And the girl with the too short skirt and the too tight top works in a bank. You could see the bank's logo on her nametag. She's not some femme fatale assassin"
Castle smirked at her and she knew she'd gone too far. "Mr. Castle, I apologize. I have no right to…"
"Oh, you have every right, Beckett. I'm here to learn from you. I can't do that if you don't tell me the truth." He changed the subject. "How do you think I create my characters?"
"Um, by watching people?" She felt foolish.
"That's part of it. What do you know about the Security Service?"
"It's the elite of the Ministry of State Security. "
Castle nodded. "And below them are the Security Police who are scattered in company sized garrisons all over the Protectorate, equipped with armored vehicles and heavy weapons, always ready to swoop down on any sign of dissent or rebellion. Below them are the Field Police who patrol the towns and cities to prevent anyone from getting out of line. And below them are…?"
"The Criminal Police." Kate finished for him.
"What do you actually know about the Security Service?" He asked.
Kate stopped and thought. She had heard tons of rumors since she was a child, but she actually knew very little about them. "Not much." She admitted.
"I'm sure it'll surprise you to know that most of the Security Service personnel are overweight, middle aged men who sit behind desks all day and assemble one little fact after another until they have a clear picture of…Something. There are very few dashing super agents, seducing beautiful enemy spies and stealing top secret plans. In fact, there may not be any. So, I had to make Derrick Storm up and all my other characters, including Nikki Heat."
And with that Castle began describing how a pimply faced, poorly dressed teenager was actually a courier, carrying plans that the fate of the whole world depended on. And so on for hours. After a bit, Kate found it interesting as an insight into how a writer worked.
Kate's stomach rumbled. "It's lunch time, Mr. Castle. There's a place not far from here where we can eat although I'm not sure you'd like it."
"I'm sure I wouldn't. After I saw you eat that rectangular thing, mistakenly called a sandwich, you got from a machine yesterday, I decided I'd need to prepare." He pushed something and the center section between the seats opened up. "I have four sandwiches for us. One is a prosciutto and provolone panini, a tuna salad sandwich, a traditional ham and cheese, and a club sandwich. Plus, I have to containers of potato salad, bottled water and bottled orange juice. Take your pick."
Kate took the tuna salad sandwich since she wasn't sure what the others were. The tuna salad sandwiches she'd had previously had been drowned in cheap mayonnaise with a few green somethings added to ruin the taste. This sandwich was truly heavenly. The potato salad was excellent and the orange juice lacked the bitter aftertaste she was used to. She finished her lunch well before Castle.
He looked over to her and smiled. "I suggest you try the panini. It's the one closest to you."
She hesitated for a second and then took the sandwich. She had to ask what it was, and he explained it to her.
The rest of the shift passed quickly enough, then Castle said what she'd been afraid to hear.
"Beckett, I'd like you to come back to my place after the shift so I can get more information on you."
She knew exactly what he wanted and she knew she had no option but to accept.
He drove onto the freeway and headed for the River Tee. She knew that the Elite built their houses so they could see the river so she wasn't too surprised that Castle took the very last freeway exit. He must be almost in the river.
They stopped at a guard post and someone in camouflage with a flak jacket and an assault rifle stepped out to greet them.
"Good evening, Mike. How have you been?" Castle asked.
"Just fine, sir. Are you bringing company?"
"This is Detective Kate Beckett, Homicide, Criminal Police. She's helping me with my next book."
"Sir, our sensors show that Detective Beckett has a sidearm. You know that…"
"I know." Castle said, still smiling. "It's okay. I'll vouch for her."
"Have a good evening, sir. "The guard waved them through.
"Those were Field Police." Kate said.
"Right. Part of the Protective Units. The Elite likes to keep control of everything."
Somehow Kate felt that Castle didn't agree with that kind of protection. She began looking around her. The houses were enormous, with wide, green lawns, shrubs and trees. They pulled into a garage under a two story house.
"Here we are." Castle said, moving to open Kate's door for her, but moving too slow. Kate wasn't used to such courtesy.
"Let me show you around. This is the garage, of course."
The garage was very big. It had to be. In addition to the car he'd just parked, here was another large sedan, a bright red, low slung, sports car, a big, boxy four-wheel drive car, a motorcycle and a boat on a trailer.
"Over here is the pool and the game room. "He opened the door so she could see. Kate was happy to find that the games were all computer games and not the bondage and discipline "games" she'd feared.
They went upstairs in an elevator.
"This is the main floor. My office is over there, the master bedroom and bathroom are there, and the kitchen is, well, you can see the kitchen. The other bedrooms are upstairs."
Kate was amazed. You could fit her entire apartment into the office and have room to spare. The floors were hardwood, covered with what looked like expensive hand-woven rugs. The walls had paintings on them and a few photos. There were expensive looking objects de art scattered around. Interestingly, the walls of the office and bedroom were bookshelves.
"Here, let me take your coat." Castle helped her out of her thin, cloth coat. Kate wondered if she should start undressing or wait for Castle's directions.
"Well, it's dinner time." Castle said, heading for the kitchen. "I was thinking of filet mignon, fresh green peas, and corn on the cob. With a garden salad, of course. Is that okay for you? Oh, and do you want an eight ounce or a ten ounce steak?"
Kate was so surprised she almost didn't reply. "Eight ounce is fine."
Castle busied himself in the biggest kitchen she had ever seen. Then he stopped. "Oh, forgive my bad manners. Would you like some wine? Red or white?"
"White." She managed.
He took out two wine glasses and then went to a separate refrigerator and pulled out a bottle, then opened it. "This is a Chateau d'If, '87. I hope you like it." He handed her a glass and went back to work.
She covertly examined the wine bottle. Chateau d'If, '87. My god. This wine is older than I am.
Kate decided that if Castle wanted to get her drunk first, she'd play along, although she was sure she could drink Castle under the table.
"I like to wrap the filets in bacon and put some Bearnaise sauce on it. Is that okay?" Kate said it was.
"And what kind of salad dressing? I like bleu cheese, but I have ranch, thousand islands, oil and vinegar, sesame ginger, balsamic, honey mustard…"
"Bleu cheese is fine." Kate said. She couldn't imagine anyone having so many choices for something like salad dressing.
When dinner was served, she hardly knew what to do. The steak was magnificent and the bacon and Bearnaise sauce was, well, magical. The peas were better than any she'd had before. She'd had to watch Castle to figure out how to eat corn on the cob. First slather it in butter, then salt and pepper, then pick up and eat.
For dessert, Castle made her an ice cream sundae with five different flavors and covered in sprinkles, candies and sauces.
"Now it's time to get to work, Detective. Join me on the couch?"
She sat next to Castle, wishing that he'd at least use one of the bedrooms.