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A one time thing
Chapter Four - Suspicions
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If it only takes a moment for your life to change forever, can a 'one time thing' right the wrong? An AU Caskett meeting.
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"Morning, Beckett. Sleep well last night?" It's all said innocently enough as he leans against the side of her cruiser, but his heated gaze tells a different story. His eyes travel down her body, over the red cashmere sweater and the black jeans, which he's almost certain she sprayed on this morning, and flicking his tongue out, he wets his lips. Damn.
"Castle." Not even bothering to look up from the phone in her hand, she offers a clipped greeting and slams the driver's side door closed. It was a five am wake up call from dispatch and it appears that she has gotten out of the wrong side of bed this morning – not that he'll be pointing that out to her.
"So. What do we know about the case? It's a shady looking neighborhood. Maybe a gang lord? Oh, maybe it's a business man that came to the wrong side of this alley looking for trouble?" He wiggles an eyebrow, tries to engage her, but again he receives next to nothing as a reply.
"It's a case."
Well, of course it's a case; he's not here for the company. Well… maybe now that he has met the company he's here for that, too. But mainly it's for the cases, the need to find families the justice they deserve. No one should be left wondering what happened or be left with unanswered questions after losing a loved one.
It's an experience-
"Good morning, Kate."
The feminine voice that interrupts his train of thought has him turning in her direction, and he takes in the shorter woman as she exits a white van. Beaming smile, radiant features, and yet, apparently she's the medical examiner if the sign on the door is to be believed. Weird. In his experience, they're usually old, grumpy men that like to laugh at their own rather pathetic jokes.
"Morning, Lanie. What have you got for us?" Beckett replies with actual social grace and warm tones and his eyes widen. Why didn't he get that response? Oh. Right.
"No idea, Kate. I got stuck in road works, but the question should be, what have you got for me?!"
Coughing or laughing, maybe even a strange combination of the two, Beckett turns away from the triangle they've formed in the middle of the alleyway, and he would very much like to do the same. The stare that's slowly tracing the lines of his body is making him… uncomfortable. The good doctor's perusal lingers a little too long, and he shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. He swears he put clothes on this morning.
Beckett, thankfully, rejoins their mini group, playfully poking the medical examiner's arm, as she smirks. "Don't feed the ego. This is Detective Rick Castle. Castle, this is Lanie Parish, our medical examiner."
Placing his most irresistible smile onto his lips, he extends a hand, shaking Lanie's. "Well the pleasure is all mine. And if you don't mind me saying, what a sight for sore eyes it is to see such a stunning medical examiner. Trust me when I say we had nothing even close to you on the other side of town."
Dipping her head forward, Lanie lets out a lighthearted giggle, before straightening, a devious sparkle glittering within her brown eyes. "I don't mind you saying, but-"
"Stand down, Castle, she's already taken." Beckett grumbles from beside them and he angles his head to take in his partner's expression. If didn't know better he'd almost say that there is a hint of jealousy in her tone.
Not that she has any reason to be. There's only one thing playing on loop in his head – he's done little else but review, rewind, and rewatch their night together since he'd woken up to her naked escape yesterday.
"I'm merely being polite, Beckett. I hear it's what people do when exchanging morning greetings."
Rolling her eyes, Kate detaches from them, begins making her way to the huddle further down, and his eyes don't remain fixated on her long limbs as she walks away, he doesn't envision himself crowding her from behind to see how the height difference could help or hinder them as they-
"If you want to make a better impression first thing in the morning you're going to need caffeine."
He closes his eyes, just for a fraction of a second so he can focus on Lanie. It's just incredibly hard to drag his eyes from Kate when they're open. "What makes you think I want to make a good impression on her?"
Lanie's answer is a rather un-lady like snort and a raised eyebrow. Apparently, he needs to work on his poker face if he has any chance of keeping Kate's – Beckett's – imposed 'we don't know each other and we sure as hell didn't have mind blowing sex all night' rule. It seems he's as easy to read as a book.
Ignoring the shiver that shudders its way down her spine, the sensation that informs her that someone is watching her walk away, that he's watching her walk away, she switches gears – she's here for a reason.
"Ryan, what have you got for me?"
"It's not a good one, Beckett."
The sarcastic reply that there is no such thing as a 'good one' never sees the light of day as the words become a lump in her throat, her pointed stare catching sight of the body lying on the dirty concrete. Shit.
The strawberry blonde curls combine devastatingly with the bright red that had leached from her porcelain skin overnight. The head wound is large and mars what was once a beautifully innocent face - what is still a beautifully innocent face.
Lifting a hand to cover her mouth, she tries to remember how to swallow, how to breathe, how to not throw in the towel and walk away from just how horrific her job can be some days. She has no choice but to pull it together.
"Any identification on her, Ryan?"
His eyes met hers, the sorrow causing the normally clear blue to become cloudy, and his head lists slightly indicating no. Shit.
"So. Was I right? Drug lord or…"
Castle's cocky approach transforms into a stumble, and she stands – frozen – as the blood drains from his face. Tears form rapidly, resting on his lower eyelashes, his lips drawing together as an unseen agony steals the smile from his mouth. Both hands curl, fingers hidden as he forms fists at his side, his shoulders hunching protectively against an outside intrusion.
They've all had cases, bodies that stir a visceral response, but this, this cuts through him and slashes the air in between them, until the tentacles whip across her skin, opening her own flesh.
She can't move.
"Al…" It's a whisper, barely a sob that breaks his lips apart and finally, it creates a crack in her own.
"Castle."
Shattering his focus on the little girl, he wrenches his wounded eyes up to meet hers, and it's enough to penetrate the private torment that he's going through before her.
And just like that steel shutters descend between them. Lifting a hand, he scrubs it across his face, wipes away the pain, his expression replaced with a mask of indifference. His frame straightens, shoulders drawing back, hands falling to his side loosely and if she hadn't of been standing, watching the changes as they morphed inside him over the last thirty seconds, she would take the façade he is now presenting at face value.
But she was there – for all of it.
"Have you called in SVU? She looks young."
Her eyes widen at his neutral tone. She's an expert at pushing things far below the surface, but he may rival her – it's as if nothing had just happened, as if he hadn't reacted so – overwhelmingly - to their first case. There's a story there, and she closes her ears to the curiosity whispering its desire to know the whys.
"I'd say she's between ten and thirteen." Lanie has somehow passed by her unnoticed, and, bending over their victim, she reports her findings. "No signs of sexual assault."
Nodding alongside Castle, she pushes her own mask into place, concentrates on the case at hand, not the one that is rapidly gaining momentum in her mind.
She's not here to investigate her partner.
"I'll give them a courtesy call, Lanie, but for now we'll work the case as our own. She doesn't fit their parameters – not yet anyhow."
Standing over the bathroom's basin, Rick attempts to gain control of the threads that have been threatening to unravel since he saw their victim. It had been one hell of a quiet car ride back to the precinct and most definitely not how he wanted to start his new job.
Shutting his eyes, he hears the door opening to his left, and, quickly he rubs a hand over his face. He needs to get it together. He needs to handle this better or the understanding he saw gathering in Beckett's piercing stare is going to start fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.
Speak of the devil.
"I wouldn't have guessed you'd be into quickies at the precinct. But I'm happy to oblige." Twisting in her direction, he throws in a smirk while leaning a hip onto the edge of the porcelain. The best defense is a good offense, and if the choice is between sharing his life story or this, he's sure as hell going to give his best game.
Sure enough her eyes roll, as she huffs in response. He's been cataloguing the different expressions that her face creates - the annoyed, the aroused, the hundred and one in between, and it's been the perfect distraction. She communicates so much with no words and he finds it an amazing contrast. As someone who - once upon a time - used to put so much into words, always seeking the perfect way to describe a situation, he finds it – her - enthralling.
"Are you alright to work this case?"
She locks her eyes with his, and it takes every ounce of strength he has not to flinch under her scrutiny, not to give away anything with his own expression. He doesn't need her concern, definitely doesn't need her pity.
"Fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
Her mouth opens, the pink of her tongue tracing her lower lip, and he stalks across the six feet between them, lowers his mouth to her ear, while using his nose to nudge the curls away, granting himself better access.
"Unless you really are here for that quickie, Kate, I suggest you leave the men's bathroom."
His words earns him a well placed thump to his shoulder, but she turns, exits, and he pauses, closes his eyes as he attempts once more to regain his hold on to the persona of Detective Castle. He only just got here, is actually developing a reason to hang around this time - he can't screw this up. Not again.
"Castle." Beckett's head pokes back through the door and he opens his eyes, lifting an eyebrow in response.
"We got an ID, they're bringing in the father now."
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Thank you for making my heart thump hard with all your wonderful words xoxo
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And thank you to Jo (honeyandvodka) and Jamie (JamieWaskel) for their help and congratulations to both as they reached individual writing milestones this week xoxo
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Thank you for reading xoxo