Disclaimer: I don't own Castle.

Prompt #4: Badge - It was truly her shield, protecting her from the world that had hurt her. But to him, it was just a bit of metal.

Words: 539

Castle looked around the precinct bullpen covertly. Making sure no detectives were around, he pulled out his lockpick set (which he had picked up during his many escapades with the NYPD) and picked her top drawer.

Beckett should've known the consequences of leaving him unsupervised by now.

The drawer was open in a matter of seconds. Not surprisingly, he's gotten fairly good at picking locks. Comes with being a bestselling author who makes a living writing crime novels; you learn a wide variety of skills with questionable legality.

Castle only had to root around for a few seconds before coming up with his prize. Beckett's shield, put in there while she did her morning workout down in the gym. Picking it up, the writer held up the object and examined it in the early morning light.

It was truly amazing, he thought, the power this bit of bronze was given. Ordinary people seemed to gain a sense of authority and power from wearing it. Victims of crimes got a sense of relief from seeing it. Complete strangers grew chatty once it's flashed in their general direction. Bad guys flee from its bearers in desperation.

Not that he didn't respect the badge. Far from it. He respected the hell out of the badge.

No, he was just amazed at how some people could made it seem so much bigger than it actually was. Mainly Beckett. Well, she believed that those who had the shield should act like they deserve it. He agreed with that, but not with how she herself uses it.

No, she used the badge as its actual form - a shield. She hid behind her badge whenever the emotions of her personal life threatened to overwhelm her. She did it with her mother's case. She did it with Sorenson. She did it with Demming. She did it with Josh.

She did it with Castle too, but he wasn't so in awe of the badge that he let her get away with it.

After all, he was a man-child, to use her words. Respect only went so far with him. He respected the badge and all who wore it, but he didn't go slack-jawed and compliant just because a cop said to back the hell off. That was just plain dumb.

Castle was a writer. Writers don't back off because they're told to. How else would one get the whole story?

However, he wasn't a total bastard about it. He didn't push beyond what he thought he could get away with. He let her have her privacy. He let her have space.

But if Beckett blatantly cowered behind her badge, Castle pushed and poked and prodded until he made her stand up and wear the goddamn thing where it belonged. On her hip, not over her head.

"Castle! What are you doing in my desk?"

"Nothing invasive," he called back, giving her a cocky grin as he put the badge back in the drawer.

As he said, he respected it. He wasn't in awe of it.

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