A/N: Glad the last chapter of this little caper took some of you by surprise. Thanks to those who left reviews. Really appreciate the support.
This chapter is for CB, who spotted that the inspiration for the desk sergeant in this story is none other than Sergeant Trudy Platt from Chicago PD, played by the wonderful Amy Morton. Love her mix of tough, sarcastic, funny and caring.
Hope tonight's Castle is as good as it promises to be. Enjoy whenever you get your chance to watch.
Chapter 5 – The Hail Mary
Previously...
The old wooden doors on the front of the building shudder and shake, whiffle-waffling back and forth just as Kate is clearing the very last step on the second floor landing.
Sergeant Halliday instinctively looks up from her newspaper upon hearing this Pavlovian sound to check what flavor of guilty is about to cross her path. When she sees what's coming, she closes the newspaper altogether, slowly shakes her head and then she leans forward on the front desk with her chin resting on her hands.
"Well, well, well. Would you look at what the cat dragged back in. What do you want, Mr. Castle?" she demands, when the writer sidles up to her counter looking flushed and out of breath.
"There's been some terrible mistake," he gasps, clutching at his chest with all the drama of a Tony-winning actor. "You have to arrest me."
Richard Castle is holding his hands out in front of him, wrists close together to indicate that he wants, needs, indeed expects, the desk sergeant to cuff him on the spot. The clown.
"Mr. Castle, what do you think you're doing?" frowns Sergeant Halliday. "Stop waving your hands in front of me like some Subway panhandler."
"You have to arrest me, Sarge. I did wrong. I should take my punishment like a man," he whines, sounding more like a little kid than the fully grown male he purports to be.
"What are you talking about?" is accompanied by a withering glare in his general direction.
"Just arrest me, please?" he begs, thrusting his wrists towards the female cop once more. "Promise I'll go quietly this time. No phone call, no lawyer."
"Did you manage to perpetrate another crime on the short walk between here and the sidewalk? Well, did you?" she demands, her hands now riding on her ample hips, just a hair's breadth away from her holstered gun, Castle observes with a sinking heart.
The writer shakes his head, and then he opens his mouth to speak once more. But Sergeant Halliday cuts him off.
"Then please leave. Your charges were dropped. Mr. Castle. At your own insistence, I might add. My lockup is for deserving criminals only, not the likes of you. So, go on. Scoot! Stop wasting my time. You're making my precinct look untidy, loitering in the hall with your tail between your legs. This is not a reading room or a bookshop, you know," she adds pointedly, before flicking open the newspaper with an impatient snap of her sturdy wrist to resume reading where she left off, somewhat undermining her last point.
Castle loiters anyway, since this is too important not to risk his freedom on. Let the grouchy woman in the white shirt and black pants standing behind the desk throw him in her lousy lockup for defying her marching orders. At least then he'd still be under the same roof as Kate Beckett. She might even come visit him if she hears of his plight, setup a campaign to spring him perhaps, if she takes pity on his ruggedly handsome face. Free The Central Park One!
But when Castle stares at his last great hope of salvaging the cluster fuck he's made of the last two days, he finds her utterly removed from his sphere – the desk sergeant's head is down as she mouths the words of some gossipy article about Rosie O'Donnell she reading in the rag in front of her. He's gone from her head, expunged, as surely as if he'd done what she asked and left the precinct. He needs to try another tack…like flattery.
"Come on. Help me out here, Sarge," Castle pleads, finally acknowledging the giant elephant in the room: that they both know exactly why he came back in here, begging to be thrown into a holding cell - one Officer Katherine Beckett.
Sergeant Halliday looks up slowly, her gaze landing on him and lingering there with no small amount of distaste; much as it might land on a toddler who'd just pulled down his pants and taken a dump in the middle of her living room floor. "I already made the mistake of helping you out, Mr. Castle. Why do you think she came after you in the first place?"
This is news!
"You did that?" he gasps in surprise, feeling a delightful jolt of hope rush up his spine.
The female sergeant nods, crossing her arms beneath her ample breasts.
Castle's face splits into an ear-to-ear grin. "See! See, I knew you believed in young love," he declares, pointing at the woman in a gesture of triumph.
Cathy Halliday peers over the desk at him with some incredulity. "Young love? For her maybe. Personally, I'd say you're a little long in the tooth for that description."
Castle ignores the woman's jibe at his age and carries on. "You do know that I'm a quick study of human nature. I figure people out. That's what I do," he crows, pacing back and forth in front of the counter with a new, burst of restless energy. "That is the skill of a good writer," he tells the desk sergeant, before turning his pointer finger on himself. "And I am a very good writer," he adds, jabbing at his chest for emphasis.
"That so?" drawls the cop, either disbelieving or bored, he can't quite tell. (So much for quick study.)
"Uh-huh, and what I've figured out about you—"
The desk sergeant leans forward over the counter to listen closely to Castle's next pearl of wisdom. "Oh, I cannot wait to hear this," she mutters sarcastically, before offering up a butter-wouldn't-melt, lash-fluttering grin.
"What I've figured out, dear Sergeant Halliday, is that behind the tough-girl routine…" he pontificates, waving his hand in Halliday's general direction to indicate that he means her.
"Tough girl? Son, I'm practically old enough to be your mother."
Castle holds up his hand to silence her interruption. "Behind that tough façade is a woman who still believes in romance."
The air goes still for a panicky moment and Castle holds his breath.
"Romance? Listen up, Mr. Castle. If you were such a quick study you'd have figured out that asking Beckett out on a date while your girlfriend was sitting outside in an idling car like…like some gangster's moll was no way to go about getting back in anyone's good books. Let alone those of a fine young woman like Officer Beckett."
"How was I to know she'd follow me out of the building? I called Gina to come pick me up before I even knew Kate would be coming in for a shift this morning. I thought I'd never see her again."
"So your little plan backfired," smirks Cathy Halliday, rather smugly.
"What plan?" asks Castle, looking genuinely blank-faced.
"To pick yourself up a new girlfriend before you left the precinct, while your current girlfriend drives the getaway car outside?"
"Did I forget to mention that Gina is not my girlfriend?"
"Who's Gina?"
"The woman in the car, who is also not my girlfriend."
"That so?" asks Sergeant Halliday, in a tone that says she finds that statement utterly lacking in credibility. "Well, that's not the impression Officer Beckett got. And I have to say my money's on her, Mr. Castle."
Castle finally stops pacing the floor. He's had it. "Gina is not my girlfriend. She's my editor."
At last! Sergeant Halliday looks as if she's just heard something that might make some kind of difference to her hastily formed, snap judgement that he, Richard Castle, is a low-life, two-timing slimeball. "If you're lying to me…" she growls.
"I'm not. I swear on my daughter's life," he insists, holding up both hands in a gesture he hopes makes him look honest at the very least, honest and submissive at best.
"A daughter? Poor child," tuts Halliday, slowly shaking her head.
"Look, I might be a total screw-up in some areas. But, believe it or not, I am an excellent dad."
"Is that so," says Halliday, somewhat skeptically. "You play with your kid?"
"All the time. We play laser tag together. I got her this cute little child size vest. You should see it," Castle chatters animatedly, as he always does when talking about Alexis. "Now she whips my ass every time."
"I have no idea what that is," replies the cop, deadpan. "Does she like you?"
"She loves me."
"Lucky for you, cause kids are a great judge of character."
"Is this some kind of interview? I'm suddenly feeling less than prepared."
"You were buck naked on the back of a stolen horse last night. Your lack of preparation didn't seem to worry you then."
"I was pretty drunk at the time and I already explained that I found that horse."
Sergeant Halliday takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. She considers Castle for a second, cocking her head to one side in a gesture he hopes means she's softening towards him.
"Look. Let me lay it out for you in language you might understand. Officer Beckett is a special person. You hear what I'm saying? She's good people, Mr. Castle. She works damn hard, helps out anyone who needs helping, offers to take shifts all the time as a favor to the guys with families. And I mean crappy shifts, Mr. Castle. Imagine Christmas, New Years, July 4th when you cannot move in this city for stupid drunks…though thankfully most of them are not to be found on horseback," she adds, giving him a pointed, withering look.
Castle nods, keeping his mouth shut for once, taking his medicine for the sake of the bigger risk at play.
"Point is: you mess her around, you'll have me to deal with—"
"Yes, but I—"
Sergeant Halliday holds her hand up in front of her as if she means to stop traffic. "Mr. Castle, I'm not finished yet. You will have me to deal with, along with the rest of her brothers and sisters in blue. That's over 34,000 pairs of eyes ready to look up your ass to see if your hat's on straight the second you put a foot wrong. You think you're ready for that kind of scrutiny?"
Castle nods, turning his most sincere, blue-eyed gaze on Sergeant Halliday. It's the kind of Hail Mary move he thought he'd long given up pulling as a means of getting into a woman's pants. Though he'd settle for getting into their good graces right now, especially where Kate Beckett is concerned.
"Please, just tell me how to get back in her good books," he begs, hands clasped together as if in prayer.
"Why are you even interested in that girl?" the sergeant persists, giving him what he imagines is meant to be a death stare. The woman looks as if she can see right inside his soul. Not even his mother can do that, and she's known him all her life.
"You have met her, right?" he asks, taking the honest route just in case she can read what's inside his heart.
"Okay, dumb question," admits the cop. "She is great police and—"
"A total knockout," adds Castle, nodding enthusiastically.
Sergeant Halliday narrows her eyes at him. "Mr. Castle, do you want my help or not?"
TBC...