"The Earth with which we are here concerned, because of its particular orientation in the Whole Sort of General Mish Mash, was hit by a neutrino that other Earths were not." – Mostly Harmless, by Douglas Adams
For the fourth time, Castle turned to Beckett where they sat in the back of the neon yellow taxicab and said, "We tell the cops what we know, and then we walk away, okay?" She rolled her eyes and continued to drum her fingers on the car door, anxious to get out of the cab.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," she said noncommittally, also for the fourth time.
"You know, when you say that I feel like you're not really listening to me," said Castle, his jaw set. At his apartment Beckett had suggested they run out and apprehend the killers at that moment, but he'd been adamant that they turn this over to the real cops. It reminded her of their adventure in Los Angeles- her desperate to go rogue and achieve justice, him begging to call the police.
Kate looked at him pointedly and replied, "Yeah, sure, whatever."
They got out in front of the 12th precinct. Beckett figured that it would be easier to tell Ryan and Esposito and let them handle it than to track down the cops actually in charge of the case. Actually, Beckett figured it would be easier to go and hunt down the killers herself, but Castle was vehemently protesting against that idea, and while normally she was higher up in the pecking order, she felt she needed him to vouch for her. Besides, no way was she confronting anyone without some form of backup.
She pulled him into the elevator, drinking in the familiar smell of it. If she never got back to her own universe, this might be her last visit to the precinct. The thought worried her, so she shoved it to the back of her brain and jammed the button for their floor.
They saw her as soon as the elevator doors opened. "Are we on Punk'd or something?" muttered Ryan to Esposito when Beckett stepped into the bullpen, accompanied by Castle. To her he said, "You can't keep showing up here. We have work to get done."
"I'll give you an autograph."
"What do you want?" Esposito shot his partner an annoyed glance, but Ryan didn't look away from Kate. She reflected upon how fortunate it was that Ryan erred on the side of obsessive when it came to being a fan of something or someone.
"I know who killed Alan Basher," said Beckett.
"Are you still on that?" groaned Esposito. "You're not a cop! You can't poke your head into every investigation. There is a team of homicide cops working on the case."
"Then can you tell them that the guys who robbed his neighbor's apartment also murdered him?" said Kate, looking between the two of them.
"No," said Esposito, but Ryan brushed him off.
"We'll tell them," he promised. Beckett sighed, shot an annoyed "are you happy now?" glance to Castle, and hit the elevator button. "When do I get my autograph?" asked Ryan as the doors slid shut.
"Um… call my agent!" said Beckett.
"Who's your agent?"
"Estelle Leonard!" The doors closed. Castle gave her an odd look.
"Who's Estelle Leonard?" he asked. She shrugged a little sheepishly.
"She was a character on Friends," she admitted. Castle laughed as they left the precinct. "This is why I need to get back to my own universe. I watch way too much TV here."
That night, after Castle had made sure that Beckett had arrived safely back to her apartment (and had gifted her copies of his Derrick Storm series so she had something to do besides watching reruns), he collapsed onto his couch beside Amy with two glasses of wine. "Thanks," she said with a smile, taking one of the glasses.
He smiled back at her and took a sip. It was nice spending time with her. Lately, he'd been so caught up with Kate and the murder that he hadn't had a real conversation with Amy in days. "How was recording today?"
She groaned. "Awful. I woke up with a scratchy throat and trying to sing my refrain for 'Get On The Floor' was like swallowing sandpaper."
"Nice simile," he commented. "I'm using that in the next Maia Sound book."
"There's another Maia Sound book?" she laughed. "I thought she had all her affairs in order and was back to her perfect life." She was referring to his latest novel, The Music of Sound, in which Maia had finally gotten married and put out her first album.
"Oh, that may be, but when it comes to celebrities, they have a way of having their affairs fall into disorder," he said, winking at her. "Or so I've heard. Hey, how's this for a title? Sound Bites." She rolled her eyes.
"So what have you been up to?" asked Amy. "I feel like I've been having a relationship with your answering machine for the past couple of days."
"Oh, remember that actress?" said Castle. "Kate Beckett?" Amy nodded. "She was in town, wanted my help with the whole… Alan Basher thing." Amy looked sympathetic at the mention of the dead actor's name.
"Poor girl," she murmured. "He was a great guy. I did a soundtrack with him once."
"That's it!" said Castle. "Sound Tracks!" He looked to Amy for approval, but she just shook her head. "Terrible loss," he added, a little too late. Amy leaned into his shoulder, suddenly reflective. She sipped her wine.
"Hey Rick?" she said after a while.
"Yeah?"
"That you're seeing Kate… I mean, there's nothing…"
"No!" said Castle, this time a bit early. "No, no, no, there's absolutely… no. I told you before, Ames, that would be way too meta." She smiled again.
"'Kay."
"Safe and Sound!" More eye rolling. More wine sipping. The phone rang. "Hello?" said Castle into the mouthpiece.
"Hey." He heard Kate's whisper on the other end of the line and wondered why she wasn't speaking at normal volume. That fact alone should have alerted him to the realization that something was wrong. "I need your help."
"With?" Amy shot him a questioning look, but he was focused on the other end of the line. There was a pause.
"I broke into the killers' HQ," she said finally, still in an undertone. Castle ran a hand across his face, upset at himself. He should've known that she couldn't sit back and let the real cops do their work. He should've seen it in her eyes.
"I'm on my way."