A/N: Sorry for the wait on this one, guys! Title and lyrics are from the Snow Patrol song Somewhere a Clock is Ticking.
-{ Chapter 3: Somewhere a Clock is Ticking }-
I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed
(I could do most anything to you...)
Don't you breathe
Something happened, that I never understood
You can't leave
Every second, dripping off my fingertips
Wage your war
Another soldier, says he's not afraid to die
Well I am scared
In slow motion, the blast is beautiful
Doors slam shut
A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away
Safe and sound
June 2nd, 2012
Castle did not ask where she had gone, when he awoke the following morning and found her back in bed beside him. He had stirred into wakefulness the night before in time to see her slipping from the room. Only, she hadn't returned in a few minutes, as he would have expected were she making a trip to the bathroom or for a glass of water.
She said nothing on the matter, but jumped unnaturally when he started up a conversation over the counter while he prepared their coffee. Her eyes were wide, her brow lined with worry, and all of her mannerisms screamed secret. She had pulled on a sweatshirt against the morning chill, and it looked baggy and cloaking over her narrow frame.
Something had happened last night, something that she was purposefully choosing to keep from him. Whether or not she planned to tell him eventually remained to be seen. For now, he let her keep whatever it was to herself, ignoring the oddities in her behavior.
He didn't have to wait all that long.
She cleared her throat after he set down the newspaper, and he folded his hands in front of him, focusing on her intently.
"Castle… I did something really… really stupid last night." He said nothing, eyes coaxing her to continue. She took a rattling breath. "Jocelyn Tam left me a message… said she wanted to meet me. I slipped out while you were asleep and went to her apartment. Castle… she was dead."
Whatever ending he had been expecting, this was not it.
"What?" he choked out hoarsely, coughing. "She was dead?"
"Who's dead?" Alexis asked, appearing at the base of the staircase. She looked back and forth between them with wide eyes.
"No one," both Beckett and Castle said at once. Alexis gave them a disdainful look and proceeded to march through the kitchen on a quest for cereal. Beckett and Castle stared over the counter at each other, forcibly silenced by his daughter's arrival. Only when she had bounded back up the stairs, cereal bowl in hand, did the two of them begin again.
Neither noticed Alexis take up a seat on the carpeting of the balcony.
"She was dead?" Castle hissed.
"Shot in the heart," Beckett finished with a sharp nod.
"What did you do?"
Beckett looked away uncomfortably. "I left, Castle. That was the something stupid that I did. I fled a crime scene."
"Did you leave prints? Were there security cameras?" he demanded.
"No and no," she answered. "But that's not the point…"
"Did you see any cops?"
"…I could hear the sirens, so someone called 911. Probably just before I got there."
"Alright. Then you were never there," Castle reasoned, leaving no room for argument.
Beckett closed her eyes. "What happened to me, Castle? I mean… I still feel like a cop, whether I resigned or not. I know better than to flee from a crime scene, no matter what the circumstances."
Castle gave her a doubtful look. "Kate, what were you going to say when the police showed up? 'Hey guys, just holding down the fort. Look what I found; a body!'?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I should have dialed it in, even if the police were on their way. I should have let them know I was there, and then stayed to give my statement."
"It wouldn't have helped; you got there and saw the body. What more did you have to tell them?" Beckett frowned, and something clicked into place for Castle. "Why did she want to meet with you so desperately?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Beckett," he insisted, and she inhaled sharply and then raised her head.
"She found something. Something related to my mother's case," she admitted tightly, her lips pressing together the moment the words were out.
He blinked at her, and for a long moment there was silence. He wasn't sure what to say. All he could think was that she had done the singular thing that could end their relationship. The absolute only thing that could ever get between them… she had known that, and she had still gone through with this. She had followed a lead, late at night, without so much as telling him she was leaving.
What did that say about her? About them?
Upstairs, Alexis slipped unnoticed into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
"You didn't tell me," he said, his voice calm but his gaze dangerous.
Beckett was looking at him pleadingly. "I was going to. But I was… I was afraid it was going to be nothing, and then you would—"
"Afraid?" he cut her off, and she winced.
"No, that's not what I meant."
"It's not? Because it sounds like you were hoping you would find a lead. And then were you going to tell me about it, or were you going to start up your own investigation behind my back?"
"I was going to tell you!" she insisted. "I just didn't want to lose you."
He knew she was telling the truth, but it had little effect against the wall of emotions rising within him.
"You're not going to let this case go. No matter what you say, you're always going to hold onto it. For the rest of your life, no matter how long it takes. And if you solve it, then what? Kate, are you ever going to let it go? Can you?"
"I'm trying," she whispered. "Castle, I'm trying. So hard. It eats me from the inside out, though… it's an addiction and I'm just trapped here, in your world, with nothing to keep the urge away. I'm not looking for justice anymore; I'm not representing the victims. And I can't do it; I can't forget. After Captain Montgomery, after I was shot? I can't make that go away."
"If you try… if you just try harder, you can—"
"I can't!" she burst out. There was a thin sheen of tears building up in her eyes, and she blinked at them. One stray droplet slipped out, hovering on the curve of her cheek. "I can't, Rick."
He swallowed. "Then… what does that mean. For us?"
Her eyes gleamed with panic, and she shook her head rapidly. "I want you," she forced out helplessly. "I want you, Castle. More than anything else. But I can't ignore fresh leads when they present themselves. I just… I can't do that. Please, don't ask me to."
He could hear his own heartbeat, thudding heavily in his chest in the following silence.
A conversation he'd had with Alexis not that long ago came to mind. About Stanford, and wanting something badly enough that you were willing to forgive even the deepest of past grievances.
"Okay," he said quietly. A soft gasp slipped from her lips, her face lighting up with barely contained relief. "But… we need some ground rules, if this is ever going to work. And… I'm fairly certain I'm not alone when I say that we both need it to work."
She nodded immediately, a vehemence behind the action.
"If we work this case… we work it together. Which means neither of us holding anything back. Even if it might protect the other person." He was referring to his own betrayal, and she knew it. "Second… do you think that Jocelyn Tam's death was related to the case?"
"It's highly probable," she theorized. "She was poking around in my life, and she called me saying she found something. Then, before she can tell me, she's murdered."
"Yeah, there's no way that's a coincidence," she said, standing abruptly and spinning his flat screen around so it faced them in the kitchen. He rescued her case file from his trash bin and then opened a new subfolder and added a note about Tam's connection.
What did she find?
Beckett was stared rather fixedly at the screen, and he realized too late that she had never seen this board before.
"In our new spirit of total disclosure… Beckett, I'd like to introduce you to my murder board."
"It's very… in-depth," she commented, coughing slightly. She stood and came to join him, eyes drifting over the information he had gathered. She honed in on the section pertaining to the mysterious man who had been asked by Montgomery to 'keep her safe,' and he stood silently off to the side, letting her drink in the new information.
"Rule three," he said finally, regaining her attention as she straightened up. "We keep each other in check. When either of us gets too deep, we pull that person out. No arguments. There are only bad things down that road; we're staying objective this time around. Or… at least as objective as we can be, given the circumstances." His eyes strayed over the section on Beckett's shooting as he spoke.
Alexis came down the stairs, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses perched on top of her head. "I'm going to the mall with Lacey," she said, and Castle and Beckett raised their hands in farewell from across the room before turning their attention back to the murder board.
His mother was out somewhere as well, and with the apartment to themselves Castle moved the flat-screen back into the sitting area and the two of them claimed chairs and spread out the paper files on the table in front of them.
"I think today is going to be a stay-in kind of day, don't you?" Castle asked, glancing at the clock. They had gotten up late; it was nearly noon. "What do you think; Chinese take-out for lunch?"
"I won't argue with that," she said, pulling the phone from its cradle and tossing it to him.
Twenty minutes later, take-out containers sat scattered through the files on the table and the both of them were hunched over stacks of paper. They weren't getting anywhere, but they weren't giving up, either. They had just made the decision to move their focus to the Jocelyn Tam murder when there was a knock on the door, making them both stiffen.
Castle switched the television screen back to normal as he moved towards the door, and Beckett began to gather the files together, shoving papers into stacks. He peered through the peephole, and felt the blood drain from his face. He motioned for Beckett to hide the files, and saw the color drain from her expression as well. She shoved the folders out of site, into the already cluttered magazine rack behind some newspapers, and Castle opened the door.
"NYPD," said the taller of the two men that stood on the doorstop. He was thin and balding slightly. His partner had wide-set shoulders and dark eyes, his nose thick but crooked. "I am Detective Kaplan and this is my partner Detective Rosewood. We understand that we can find Katherine Beckett at this address." He peered narrowly around Castle's frame, focusing on her.
Beckett came forward, moving to stand by Castle's side.
"We have some questions that we'd like to ask you. Down at the station," Rosewood told her gruffly. "If you'll just accompany us to the 15th."
She glanced at Castle, and then curled her lower lip inwards, sucking in a breath.
"Alright," she said heavily.
~BxCxBxCxBxC~
They took her down to the station alone, Castle following in one of his cars. Kaplan and Rosewood chatted back and forth on the trip, discussing their upcoming plans for next month's Fourth of July celebration. Rosewood had a family, with two little girls, and he was planning a trip to New England to visit his parents for the holiday. Kaplan was planning to ask their coroner on a date.
Neither of them spoke up about the case they were working, the one that Beckett had found herself involuntarily involved in. Not that she had expected them to, of course. She was a suspect in this situation, not a colleague.
The station was buzzing with activity. Beckett had never been here, herself, but it had a similar look and feel to the 12th. Kaplan and Rosewood motioned for her to head through a door into one of their interrogation rooms, and she gritted herself and stepped over the threshold.
"I can explain," she said, the moment they were all seated. It felt odd, unnatural, to be on the other side of the table. Before today, she had never found herself in a situation where it would be necessary.
Kaplan raised his eyebrows. "Alright. Explain."
Her initial reading of the two of them suggested they were not thrilled to be questioning what they would still consider to be 'one of their own.' Her instincts told her that they would listen, and that they'd be more likely to believe her half of the tale than if she were a complete stranger. She couldn't risk lying; not after she had already so blatantly fled from a crime scene. She wondered what they had found that had given her away. A partial print? A security tape?
"Jocelyn Tam called me yesterday morning and left me a message." She extracted her phone and placed it on the table, playing the message. The detectives listened calmly. "I wasn't sure whether or not I should meet with her, but I eventually decided to go late last night. I left Castle's loft at around midnight, and arrived at Tam's apartment by 12:10 at the latest. When I arrived, the door was ajar, so I stepped in and proceeded through the apartment, looking for signs of intruders. There was no one in the apartment… but Jocelyn Tam was dead on the floor of her bedroom."
"And you didn't call it in?" Rosewood clarified.
She swallowed sharply. "I could hear approaching sirens," she said slowly. "And I finally understood why our suspects make stupid decisions."
Kaplan was nodding slowly. "You decided to leave the scene undisturbed."
"Yes," she said heavily, feeling a shred of relief flickering up inside her.
"Did you have your gun with you?" Rosewood questioned, and she shook her head.
"No."
"You entered the apartment without a weapon, knowing there may be an intruder present?"
"I went to Tam's unarmed, and I couldn't leave after finding the door open. Not without looking to see if everything was okay."
"Alright, Beckett," Kaplan said, cutting off whatever Rosewood had been about to say. "Montgomery was a good friend, and he put you in the highest regard. I'm not condoning your choices… but for now, I'm willing to accept your explanation. We'll be in touch, though, if anything else comes up."
"It won't," she promised. "I was there for less than a minute, and she was dead when I arrived." She hesitated a moment, and then cleared her throat. "Can I ask… how did you know I was there?"
"Someone on the street saw you leave the building. Recognized you from the articles. When they saw the news about the murder, they called in the tip."
Wonderful, she thought. Someone on the street.
"Thank you, detectives."
They stood, holding out hands to shake hers.
"Never thought it could be you," Kaplan confided as they exited the interrogation room.
"Kate!" Castle called the moment she appeared, looking harried. His eyes were wide and his expression almost childishly fearful. She stepped into his embrace, realizing in a rush that she needed to be in his arms probably as much as he needed her to be there.
"It's okay," she told him firmly. "They just had a few questions; we can go home."
She felt his shuddering sigh of relief rattle his frame, and then he let her go and stepped back. Beckett twined her fingers with his, and led the way out of the precinct.
The ride home was a mostly quiet affair.
"What did you tell them?" he asked carefully, breaking the heavy silence.
"I told them the truth. That she called me, that I went to see her late last night, and that she was dead when I arrived."
"And they believed you?"
"Yes. They said they'll be following up, obviously, but there's nothing else connecting me to the murder. There's nothing to worry about."
"Except… whoever killed Tam is connected to your mother's case. Did you tell them that?"
"I played the voicemail that Tam left for me, so they know that the reason I went to see Tam was because she claimed to have information. Whether she actually did, though, remains to be seen."
"You still think there's a chance there's no connection?"
"I'm hoping," Beckett corrected, shaking her head. "But… I honestly have no idea."
~LxExLxExLxE~
"There you are," Lanie Parish sighed, glancing up from the tox screens she had been analyzing. "About time."
"What's so important?" Esposito asked, glancing around. They were alone in the morgue, thankfully. Lanie pushed herself off of the stool and motioned for him to follow her across the room. She opened one of the freezers and hauled out the body tray. Esposito's face darkened with expectation.
Lanie pulled back the cloth, and he frowned.
"Who's that?" he asked, confusion crinkling his brow.
"She is Jocelyn Tam. Reporter."
Recognition lit up in the detective's eyes. "Jocelyn Tam… the reporter that's been shoving our girl Beckett under the microscope?"
"The one and only," Lanie said with a nod, gently fixing the sheet over the body and sliding it back into place. The door shut firmly.
"…She's dead?" Esposito exclaimed, waving a hand in the direction of the freezer as Lanie paced back across the room to her station. He followed with rapid strides. "What happened to her?" he demanded.
"I've looked over the report, but it is not my case. I want that made clear, Javier." She sat back down with a huff, folding her hands in her lap and meeting his eyes seriously. "She was shot in the heart. They're running ballistics on the bullet, now."
"Who the hell would want her dead?"
Lanie raised an eyebrow, and his face hardened.
"You aren't suggesting…"
"No, I'm not. But I'm saying that that's what it's going to look like. The detectives were talking when they were down here. A witness saw her leaving the crime scene last night… right before the police arrived. They're bringing her in for questioning."
Esposito was already shaking his head. "No. There's no way. Not Beckett."
"I agree," Lanie said calmly. The harsh lines of Esposito's face suggesting that smoke might start pouring from his ears at any moment. His eyes were dark and narrowed, his nostrils flaring at the edges.
Lanie didn't think that Beckett could be involved; not for a second. But this looked bad, in many ways. If anyone could help her friend, it would be Esposito. And Ryan. If the two of them could bother to see eye-to-eye for a while.
"Don't go getting yourself into trouble," she said, poking a finger at him. "I'm telling you this because I think you should know. And because I knew you would be on her team. I am not telling you this, Javier Esposito, so that you can interfere with someone else's investigation and go off getting yourself suspended on a permanent basis. That's not going to help anyone."
He ground his teeth.
"I'm going to call her," he said tightly.
"Maybe you should—" the door swung shut behind him, and she sighed. "…talk to Ryan," she finished for nobody in particular.
She looked around at the silent morgue. Alexis Castle had finished her internship two weeks ago, and suddenly Lanie found herself irrevocably grateful for that fact. At first she had missed the company of the level-headed red-head, so different and calculating in comparison to her wildly creative father. She had been excellent company in this dark place. It was better, though, that she not be involved during this investigation.
Beckett and Castle were just starting out, and Lanie prayed helplessly that this would not be the thing that would break them.
~CxBxCxBxCxB~
Beckett's cell rang, as they were stepping from the elevator and re-entering the loft.
"Beckett," she answered, and Castle recognized Esposito's voice murmuring rapidly to her. He watched as she closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath.
"I'm fine," she assured. "I'm back at… I'm home. They just had some questions." A pause. "Detective Kaplan and Detective Rosewood. No, they believed my side of the story." A sigh. "It's… a long story, Espo. No, tell Lanie not to get involved. And you shouldn't, either. Everything is fine."
There was a long pause filled with the faint buzzing of Esposito's voice.
"Thanks," Beckett said finally. "I will. Yes."
She hung up, glancing at him. "The body is in the morgue. Lanie told Esposito," she added quietly, on a mutter.
"I figured as much," he said with a half-hearted nod. "Any new information?"
"No," she huffed. "They know less than we do. Lanie said that ballistics is going to start working on the bullet shortly."
"Good. That should be all the proof that Rosewood and Kaplan need to start looking for the real killer."
Beckett nodded. "Hopefully. Meanwhile…" she clicked the television on, and they settled back into their seats, putting aside the now-cold takeout containers.
"Hold on," Castle said, fishing for the remote among the pillows and rooting it out. He tapped the channel button, bringing them away from his investigation page and back to the actual television stations. The news was on, and he let the remote drop into his lap as they both listened.
A reporter with curly blonde hair stood with a microphone in front of Jocelyn Tam's apartment building, talking about the murder.
"Initial reports suggest that Tam was shot and killed at around midnight last night. First on News 5, we have received an anonymous tip that former NYPD detective Kate Beckett, the inspiration for Richard Castle's fictional 'Nikki Heat' character, was brought in for questioning after she was seen leaving the scene of the crime shortly before the police arrived. The following is footage shot outside the NYPD's 15th Precinct."
Beckett groaned, slumping back in her chair as the screen switched to video of her walking into the station behind Detectives Kaplan and Rosewood.
"The NYPD has not released any comment other than to say that they are looking into several leads but have no solid suspects as of yet. Back to you, Holly."
The camera blinked back to a news desk with two familiar reporters, and Castle raised the remote and returned them to the murder board.
"The press is going to have a field day," she muttered.
"Maybe for a few days," Castle admitted begrudgingly. "But… once they catch the real killer, you won't have to worry about it. Things will go back to the way they were."
"Hm," she murmured noncommittally.
Her phone buzzed, rattling a few inches across the surface of the table.
"Beckett," she said warily. The tensed muscles in her face relaxed as soon as the other voice spoke. "Ryan. Hi… yes, I'm fine. Yes, I'm… I'm with Castle. No, we don't know. They just had a few questions. Rosewood and Kaplan. Thanks. Just be careful. And talk to Esp—okay. Okay." A long pause, now. "I will. Talk to you soon."
Castle cleared his throat as she set the phone back down. "Still not speaking to each other, are they?"
She shook her head, scowling. "Hopefully Lanie can talk some sense into them. Or they'll figure out some 'guy' way to make it up to each other."
"Hey, they're not mad at me, too, are they? I wasn't informed."
"As far as I know, neither of them have any issue with what you did. I sort of told them you were 'off the case.' I never gave details about what… happened between you and me."
"Probably for the best," Castle agreed, raising an eyebrow. She nodded.
He picked up a file, shuffling through it. "So, what are Esposito and Ryan working on?"
"They're following the developments in the Tam case. Separately, of course. And under the radar. I'm not sure how good of an idea that is, with Gates on the watch… but it's not as if they're interfering with another team's case. They're just paying very… close attention."
"So they can get in trouble with Gates, but not any higher up," Castle reasoned.
"Exactly," she said, her frown not quite leaving the corners of her lips.
"Maybe if Ryan gets caught that will even things out with Esposito," Castle put in thoughtfully, tipping his head to the side.
Beckett shot him a doubtful look. "Let's not go rooting for that, Castle."
He raised his hands in mock surrender, and she turned away. He watched the corner of her lips turn up in an amused smile.
"Let's get away," Castle said suddenly, and her head snapped back around again, that inquisitive line appearing between her brows.
"What?" she asked in confusion.
"Let's get away," he repeated. "We'll go to the Hamptons tonight: take a vacation from reality. No case, no reporters, no worries. Hakuna Matata. Just you and me. We'll make dinner and… keep ourselves entertained."
"Get around to exploring the rest of the house?" Beckett added with a mischievous grin.
"Something like that," he said, leaning forward to close more of the distance between the two fo them. "What do you say?"
"I think… that sounds like an excellent plan."
He left her to the packing and gave his mother and daughter both a call to let them know where he was going. His mother did not answer, allowing him to leave a quick message, but Alexis picked up on the second ring.
"Dad, I was just about to call you; I've tried the house a bunch and no one was answering. I saw a television in the food court; what's going on? Did something happen with Beckett?"
"Everything is fine. Just… ignore anything you see. The press has a wilder imagination than even me. Beckett and I are taking the rest of the weekend off and heading to the Hamptons. I'll see you and Gram when we get back on Sunday."
"…Alright," Alexis said slowly. The suspicion was dripping from her tone. "You're sure everything is okay?"
"It's fine," he assured, with a false sense of cheerfulness. I'll see you Sunday."
~BxCxBxCxBxC~
June 3rd, 2012
"We could just never go back," Castle whispered in her ear, his breath stirring the fine, peach-fuzz hairs along the line of her jawbone. "Alexis and my mother could visit… we could go down by the beach, every day, and set up our chairs. Watch the waves… talk…"
Beckett closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling of him, pressed against her every curve. She could feel his breath, hear his heartbeat. He was a curl of warmth in the cool sheets, a puzzle piece that only she could match this perfectly.
What he proposed was a fantasy; a perfect world in which neither of them had any responsibilities. A world in which the city did not exist, and could not encroach on their time together. As much as she wished to pack up her old life and take up residence here, in the nooks and crannies of his life in the Hamptons, she knew that it simply wasn't possible.
"We'd be bored in a week," she mumbled into her pillow.
Pale, morning light streamed through the curtains, and as a sea breeze wafted through the window, a sliver of the warm glow slipped across her face. She sighed, raising herself onto her elbow and rolling over to face him. She tucked the red sheet around herself, allowing just her bare legs to remain free of the constraints. He, too, propped himself up on an elbow, matching her. His smile was easy, but his eyes reflected sadness.
"Like you said," she assured, placing a hand tentatively on his chest—first just fingertips and then gradually flattening out her palm—"It will blow over soon. And when they solve this case… it will all be over and back to normal."
He placed a finger over her lips, silencing her.
"What case? There is no case," he chided, and she laughed, pulling away from his hand.
"Fine, fine. No case, no responsibilities. For the next…" she glanced over his broad-shouldered frame and located the clock on the nightstand. "Five hours."
He scowled, but it gave way to a playful grin as he rolled them both over, pinning her beneath him. She grinned up at him. "You do realize that I could very easily toss you across the room?"
"But you won't," he hissed into her ear, latching his teeth on her earlobe and tugging gently. She gasped, eyes fluttering closed. He was right. She wouldn't.
His attentions slipped lower, fingers nimbly folding away the thin sheet that covered her upper body. Her bare skin gleamed copper in the pool of flame-red sheets set ablaze by sunlight, and goose bumps traced up her arms in the wake left by the pads of his fingers as they trailed lazy patterns. He was intent on memorizing every inch of her, something he had made clear over the course of their new relationship.
Sometimes she would wonder what this new research would do to affect her character and his. And sometimes, she just didn't think about much of anything at all.
She arched into his touch, sighing contentedly at his gentle ministrations at one moment and then gasping at his boldness the next. Every day with Castle was a new adventure. As his tongue dipped into her belly button, she groaned softly, the sound slipping smoothly from her lips just before she forced her eyes open and wriggled herself down so they were face to face again, claiming his lips and tasting the pure flavor that was untainted Castle.
Flipping them over, she purred into his ear just a few words that made a shiver wrack through his bulky frame.
She was going to make him say 'apples' today. Before they left to return to their fragmented lives in the city. Even if it took up all of their remaining five hours.
~BxCxBxCxBxC~
Beckett pictured the precinct, the bullpen bustling with activity and the murder board fleshed out with photographs and time tables. Castle was leaned against the passenger window of the car, eyes closed and breathing steady, and she had been driving with silence as her sole company for the last half hour.
They were closing in on the city, and had hit traffic a few minutes ago. Since then, they had been at a stop and go rate. She was starting to become familiar with the cars around them. There was the heavyset woman wearing pink, with her white-as-snow hair and her bobble-head cats in the rear window. Then there was the mother with her three kids, who looked like she hadn't had a good night's rest in months. Currently, the car beside Beckett's window was occupied by a bulky man with tattoos. She could hear the muted classical music wafting from his cracked windows.
She missed the 12th. Spending all of this time with Castle and knowing where they stood… it was a marvelous feeling. It was exciting and powerful and it continuously swept her up when she let herself focus on the fact that this was all real. None of that stopped her from longing for what she had left behind, though. She should be working the Tam case, not waiting for a phone call to tell her oh, you're not a suspect anymore, have a nice day.
Things had become so simple on this half of her life, with her and Castle and nothing in between, and so complicated on the other half. She hated the trade-off, wishing for a way to make them both even. She wanted to be content. To not have this longing dividing her happiness and leaving her with doubts.
Mostly, she wanted to not have the nagging whispers swirling through her brain, asking over and over again: What did Jocelyn Tam want to tell you?
Castle looked so peaceful, his body still against the window, the steady rise and fall of his breathing making a slight whistling noise to break the silence. Every now and then, it fell in rhythm with the thrum of music from a neighboring car in traffic.
She thought of his latest novel. Frozen Heat, he was calling it. She was not expressly allowed to read it, but once in a while over the last month he had read bits of it aloud to her, to get a feeling for her reaction and ask her opinion on a character's behavior. It made their evenings interesting, and allowed them a window back into the world that they had both been removed from. For a while, they could be Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook. They could pretend.
Coming back into the city, now, Beckett knew that she was going to have to face the future. There was no more hiding from it. She would meet with Gates and talk about what she would need to do in order to regain her position in the NYPD. Once she was reinstated, she would settle for discussing cases with Castle outside of the job until she felt Gates had cooled enough to start bringing him back around the station.
Honestly, she had no idea how Gates truly felt about Castle. He was not her favorite person, by any means. But he was instrumental in solving cases, and even Gates had been forced to begrudgingly admit that on occasion. Beckett wasn't going to hold out hope that things could return to the way they were; she was not looking for disappointment. She was keeping all of her opportunities within sight, though, and not giving up on them.
Castle stirred slightly, head lolling against the window. She smiled, expression softening and her fingers relaxing their grip on the steering wheel. Traffic slid to a halt again.
He was everything. Even if she didn't get her job back, they would find a way to make things work. They could move across the country. They could move to Europe. They could do anything they wanted to do, and they could be together every second for the rest of forever. The possibilities were endless, and that was wonderful to just stop for a second and think about.
She was going to tell him that she loved him. The next chance she got, she was going to say the words out loud. And she was going to mean them more than she had ever meant them before in her life.
~GxGxGxGxGxG~
Captain Victoria Gates had known that she was not taking an easy job when she had accepted the position at the 12th precinct. It was no normal opening, after all. She was replacing a fallen hero, a Captain who had fallen to save his own team. She had never expected anyone to like her, and nor had she wanted them to.
She was efficient and abrasive. She did not apologize and she did not make excuses. She took responsibility for these people who worked under her, and she took it very personally when they did not respect their positions.
In inheriting Montgomery's position, she had inherited Detective Kate Beckett, who she had decided to reserve judgment on in those first months while she waited on their first encounter. Time and time again she heard good things. Great things, even. Beckett was supposed to be a hero cop. A woman on a mission, who never backed down. She had a fire, a passion for the job that was hard to find nowadays. She burned for justice, for answers. That could be as good as it could be dangerous.
Captain Gates liked Detective Beckett. This was not an opinion she shared with anyone, but one that she kept to herself. In her humble opinion, the NYPD would do good to have more Kate Beckett's in the mix. The recklessness was a risk, of course—and that Richard Castle that followed her around was a liability and a lawsuit waiting to happen, all rolled into one—but Beckett had a knack. It was a rare gift, and one that she was not going to get over losing anytime soon.
Working in Internal Affairs, she had gotten a feel for cops. For what made them tick. Every ounce of Detective Beckett's fuel was built up on her emotions over her mother's murder. On a normal case, she kept it in check. She stoked the fire and burned the fuel and she got things done. Gates should have realized sooner what would inevitably happen when her mother's murder hit a breakthrough.
Beckett had been a time bomb waiting to go off. The moment Gates had made it clear that she would not be working any case that would ruin her objectivity she should have recognized that she was promoting deception. Of course when that team of hers found a lead they would close up ranks and stick to their loyalty. She had hardly felt like she was running the precinct anymore; Beckett was pulling all the strings with Esposito and company in tow.
She did not regret putting those two on suspension.
What she did regret was the fallout.
Standing stonily in her office, arms crossed and legs spaced apart, glaring into the bullpen, she watched the buzz of activity and felt a disconnect. There was a rebellion brewing, just under the surface. She had halted all activity on the Johanna Beckett case, and informed her precinct that anyone found researching it, or any of the related cases—Beckett's own shooting or Montgomery's death, for example—would be terminated immediately.
There had been muttering. There had been hardened eyes and crossed arms. There had been talk that Beckett had had the right idea in resigning. Officer Hastings had said that what happened to Beckett could happen to any of them, and that Beckett deserved justice, not radio silence.
With Detective Esposito's return, the murmurs that had fallen away after the first two weeks had been brought back to a full-on buzzing. The bullpen was like a beehive that only she could tame. Her mere presence imposed instant silence and preoccupied shuffling of papers. When her door opened, the place became a well-behaved office. Silent and focused.
Esposito was the only one that would meet her eyes when she stood like this, staring out. He would glance up from his computer and find her gaze. His resolve was hardened. He was not going to give up on this case, no matter what she did.
Firing him at this point was not going to help matters, and it certainly wasn't going to raise morale in the precinct.
What she really needed was for Detective Beckett to return. Esposito was on a blind run, still angry and betrayed. Beckett, while fiery and misguided, was more reasonable. Her request for a meeting had given Gates an opportunity. Not to welcome back the detective with open arms; that was not the answer and certainly not in Gates' personality… but rather, an opportunity to open a window. If Beckett was looking to return, then Gates would test and see just how far Beckett was willing to go to regain her position. And when she eventually did, she would be reformed. No more behind-the-scenes, no more secrets.
For once, Gates would be in charge of the precinct.
Most importantly, there would be no Castle.
There was a knock on her office door, and she turned in surprise. Doctor Lanie Parish stood there, a decidedly panicked expression struggling to hide behind her pursed lips.
There was no situation in which this could be news that Gates wanted to hear.
~BxCxBxCxBxC~
"Beckett," greeted Detective Rosewood. He pushed himself away from the wall where he'd been leaning his shoulder. Kaplan stepped forward from the other side of Castle's apartment door.
"Glad you could join us." He nodded to Castle. "Your mother told us you were in the Hamptons. That's nice, you know, that she lives with you."
Castle gritted his teeth. "What are you doing here?"
"Official business," Kaplan said.
"In my hallway?"
Beckett touched his shoulder, hoping he'd take the hint to stay calm. They probably just had a few more questions. Probably. There was no need for Castle to go and get himself in trouble. The last thing she needed was to have him brought in for some minor charge. Or worse, for punching one of them.
"Your mother wouldn't let us in," Rosewood said simply. He unhooked a pair of handcuffs from his belt, meeting Beckett's eyes with a genuine sadness. "I'm sorry."
She stood frozen by Castle's side, the both of them clutching their bags. A chill was running down her spine, poisoning her veins.
"What?" she asked, watching the hallway tilt.
Rosewood shook his head. "We ran ballistics on the bullet, Beckett. It came back to a .32 that was registered to… you."
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. "That… that doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't matter if it makes sense," Kaplan said gruffly, plucking the cuffs from his partner's hand and coming towards her. "Katherine Beckett, you are under arrest for the murder of Jocelyn Tam. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney…"
She zoned out his words, turning automatically when he put a hand on her shoulder. The cold metal clasped like an iron fist around her wrists. Castle was staring dumbly, at a loss for words. Slowly, his head shook back and forth.
Kaplan put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a push away from the apartment, guiding her back to the elevator and away from her sanctuary. Away from Castle.
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