A/N - Hey everyone! Hope you all are enjoying spring. If you see it, please ask it to visit me. So. Tired. Of Cold.

As always, my heartfelt thanks goes out to you, the readers, the followers, favoriters (not an actual word *dies*) and my reviewers. Without you, I'd be writing for myself, my family and the infinitesimal chance that Terri Edda will be bored one day and read fan fiction and call me up and say "Hey, move where it's warm."

See how fertile my imagination? ;-)

Enjoy!

~GeekMom

The Commitment

Chapter 10

Wholly Inappropriate

After a considerable cooling off period, Nick Byrd was brought back in to interrogation. Castle still had a gleam of humor in his eye as he sat across from the teacher. Byrd stared at the writer, trying to determine how he knew him.

Beckett introduced herself and Castle and asked, "Mr. Byrd, are you willing to cooperate?"

"I didn't do anything."

"No one said you did," Castle clarified.

"Who are you?"

"Mr. Byrd, as I stated before, Mr. Castle is a consultant with our squad and also a volunteer at P.S. 86. This process will go more smoothly if you listen and pay attention to me."

He said, "Okay," but he shook his head.

Kate narrowed her eyes. "How well did you know Susannah Hamilton?"

"Not very well at all. We worked at the same school. Even though I had more experience and better qualifications, she got the job I wanted but," he shrugged, "it happens." Ryan knocked on the door and whispered something to Beckett. She excused herself and followed Ryan out of the room.

To Castle, he added as if no one but Castle could hear him, "You know how it is." At Castle's blank face and a half of a head shake, he explained, "You know, she was a woman," Castle's eyebrows climbed into his hair. "And you know how they get jobs." He emphasized the 'they'.

Castle schooled his face and made very sure that he kept it neutral. He sat forward, placed his elbows on the table, as if he was eager to learn. "Uh, no, Nick, what do you mean? How do they get jobs?" He asked, mimicking Byrd's emphasis.

"Ah come on, you know," he said never taking his eyes off of the writer. "They all use all that feminine stuff, women's lib, bra burning, sex appeal, and maybe even sex. We'd all be better off if they never left the kitchen."

Castle's jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot under his bangs, unable to keep a straight face any longer. He was sitting across the table from a Neanderthal. How could anyone alive still have this Stone Age opinion of women? He swallowed and glanced at the mirror behind him. Turning back he asked, "Do, uh, do you have any evidence that Miss Hamilton acquired her employment that way?"

"Evidence? No, but why else would she get the job over me?" The cretin suddenly stopped spewing and looked down at his cuticles. He started gnawing on his index finger.

Castle was stunned. Apart from serials or rapists, he had never spoken to someone who had such a narrow view of the world or such low regard for women as Nick. He was the worst kind of sexist. There wasn't a man alive who could honestly say that they understood women all of the time, and most of them blundered through relationships, but this guy brought their entire gender down a few notches. Castle, having been surrounded, loved and nurtured by women his entire life, was having a tough time controlling his temper. "Oh, I don't know, Nick," he said through clenched teeth. "Did you ever consider that maybe she earned the position?" He asked sarcastically. Castle stood up to alleviate some of his tension and paced back and forth with his back toward the mirror.

"Yeah, the position." He chuckled to himself and glancing toward the door, said, "Kind of like to explore positions with that lady detective." Castle stopped pacing and looked like he had been slapped; shock and disbelief were written all over his face. Byrd continued magnanimously, "Ya know; if you're not already doing her." He leered lecherously toward the door for about a half a second before Castle's fist connected with his jaw. Byrd tipped backward in his seat, sprawling on the floor. He stood up rubbing his rapidly bruising jawline. "What the hell? You can't do that to me. That's police brutality. Weren't you already getting a little on the side with Susie-q too? I know what they say about you in the papers. "

As Castle wound up for another punch, Esposito busted into the room and held him back. "Castle! Holy shit! Castle, stand down!" He said, barely able to reign in the author.

Ryan and Beckett heard the commotion and rushed in to interrogation after him. "Oh crap," said Ryan, craning his neck to look toward Montgomery's office to ascertain if their captain had heard the ruckus.

Beckett took control of the situation. "Ryan, take Mr. Byrd back to holding. Espo, take Castle to the break room."

Both of the men being handled started to protest. At Beckett's glower, Castle backed off, but Byrd squawked, "Hey, he's the asshole who hit me. He's the one who should be locked up."

Beckett spun on him. "Do you really want me to put him in holding with you, Nick?" The man's belligerence disappeared as Castle continued to glare at him. "Get him out of here, Ryan."

Beckett had the two hostile men taken to different rooms. She ran a tired hand through her hair and silently kicked herself for leaving Castle alone in the room with Byrd. She needed to see what had transpired after she left. While Castle was not strictly a part of the NYPD, she was still responsible for his behavior while working with them.

'He was usually so easy going; Byrd had to have provoked him,' she thought as she strode into the observation room and had the records officer replay the tape. Byrd wasn't a suspect per se, but because of his argumentative loud-mouthed attitude when escorted in, she decided to record their conversation. That's why she had him placed in interrogation in the first place. She stood in the darkened room watching the playback. Watching Castle endure the ignorance Byrd could spew out. She shook her head; she would have punched him too.

"Beckett?" Roy Montgomery stood just inside the door frame. She wondered how long he had been there.

"Sir?"

Montgomery cocked one eyebrow. He had the habit of appearing entertained by any situation. He had a pleasant kind expression for those whom he worked with and mentored, but if he had a suspect in the box, he could drop the look and become fierce and intimidating. Kate never wished to be on the receiving end of his penetrating gaze.

"I understand we may be facing a brutality charge?" He chuckled.

"Sir, Castle was totally provoked. This jerk made degrading comments and Castle was defending, um," she hesitated as it occurred to her that he was defending women. She continued, "He was just protecting…"

"You, Kate. He was protecting you and defending women in general." He chuckled again at Beckett's frown. "I saw the tape." He gestured to the video monitor. She followed the motion of his hand with her eyes. "Doesn't exactly jibe with the guy on page six, does it?" He asked; the humor of the situation apparently obvious to him, but not to Kate, whose cheeks effloresced in ruddy blotches.

"No, sir." She shook her head, also trying to reconcile the two varieties of Castle. Another facet she had never even considered let alone a character trait she would have assigned to him. She looked toward the break room and observed Espo talking to Castle. She turned back to the man who was her captain, mentor and friend.

"Now, I can't have him going all Sean Penn on witnesses and suspects," he chortled at his own joke, "but since he was so thoroughly provoked, you let him down easy. Just make sure he knows this can't happen again."

"Yes sir."

He turned to leave, "And Beckett. Get Byrd to deal. No assault charges and there won't be any harassment charges." He tilted his head, conceding, "He'll still be an asshole, just not in the lockup."

"Yes sir." Montgomery was a great boss. He understood what it was to be a cop. He rose through the rank and file; he knew the long hours and heartbreak. He was passionate, compassionate and so very smart. A cop's cop; a true blue blood. Kate worked for the day when she would be half the cop he was.

Esposito took Castle to the break room, made him sit on the well-worn sofa, and gave him a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Castle took it but didn't drink. "Shit, Castle, drink it man. You need to cool off before Beckett gets in here.

"Javi, did you hear what he said?" He said, rising.

Esposito put his hand on Castle's shoulder pushing him back down. "Yeah, bro, I heard. The guy's a tool. Take a drink of the water."

Castle looked at the bottle as if he wasn't aware he was holding it. He sighed, opened it and took a drink.

"Good. Now, the bad news is that I'm pretty sure you'll be up on charges. The good news is that I think he may need to eat really soft foods for a while. That guy's a jerk with a little bit of knowledge of how the system works."

Castle grinned. "It was worth it."

The detective grimaced. "Yeah? We'll see what you think after Beckett gets in here. I've been in your shoes man, so has Ryan. Beckett rips you a new one when you go off on a perp. This won't be fun."

Beckett strode into the room, assessed the scene and ordered, "Esposito, back to your desk. Close the door." Esposito complied.

Her eyes never left Castle's who could already feel the heat and annoyance emanating from them. Or was that just what he expected? So he imagined it.

"Look...," he began.

She cut him off. "No." He could still see the irritation and…indecision?

"But Beckett…"

"Castle, I need you to shut up," she snapped. She seemed to be fighting an inner battle. She held the back of the stool so tightly that her knuckles were white. Castle noticed a thin sheen of sweat on her upper lip betraying her conflicting emotions. 'Shit, that's sexy,' he thought and then 'Where did that come from?' He tried, unsuccessfully, to get his breathing under control. She would think it's adrenaline from the confrontation, but he knew it wasn't. He swallowed, nervously. He noticed that she was observing him and he suddenly found his knuckles fascinating.

"Holy crap, Castle, relax. I'm not going to castrate you." He involuntarily closed his legs. The corners of her lips curled at his reaction and how her words had caused it. The anger emptied from her eyes and her shoulders released the tension. She drew in, then blew out a cleansing breath, and sat down next to him. "This time," she added wickedly, as she bumped his shoulder with her own, her eyes dancing with impish fun. He witnessed her transform from fuming boss to comforting…what? Friend? He was especially taken with her eyes. Beckett had kind, but sorrowful eyes. A muse's eyes. He could get lost in them. They were one of the first things he noticed about her when they first met. How beautiful and expressive her eyes were. The axiom goes that the eyes are the window to the soul. If that proves to be true, Kate Beckett's soul is gorgeous.

He scowled. His body's reaction to her was wholly inappropriate. He swallowed again and licked his lips. He had always been attracted to her, but he was not an idiot. She wasn't interested in him romantically or even just sexually. Kate Beckett, after a year of working with him, was tolerant of him.

"Look," she began quietly with empathy and laid a hand on his knee. "I watched the tape. We all have been in similar situations, where a perp gets under your skin and you just want to beat the hell out of them, but you can't. Keeping your cool in the face of a jackass is one of the hardest things to do sometimes."

"I don't regret it." He said defiantly. He hoped that it was an appropriate answer in the conversation. He lost his hearing when she touched his knee.

She chuckled, "I don't doubt it. It's a learning experience. We'll chalk it up to that. Thanks, by the way." She squeezed his knee and his eyes darted to the blistering point of contact between them on his leg. She followed his gaze and as her eyes came back up to his, she realized his uneasiness. She quickly removed her hand. It had felt like the most natural way of offering him support, but her touch left his eyes, ablaze. Kate stood up; self-consciously. "I need you to go home, relax and cool off. I'll see if I can persuade Mr. Byrd not to file charges."

He nodded, suddenly exhausted from it all. "You'll let me know if you find anything."

She smiled reassuringly. "Of course. Go get some rest."

They walked out to her desk, where he retrieved his jacket and draped it over his arm. Ryan and Esposito hastily buried their noses in files. Kate laid her hand on his forearm. Castle determined not to react to the searing heat of her touch. He realized that his working so hard not to react was actually one hell of a reaction. He sighed, "Oh god."

Kate misread his sigh and exclamation. "It'll blow over Castle, don't worry about it."

Castle nodded again and chewed on his bottom lip. He stood there stupidly for another moment, not wanting to break the physical contact with her. "Until tomorrow, Beckett."

She smiled, nodded and dropped her hand.

He turned to leave, but spun on his heel back to face her. "Oh, Susannah's funeral is tomorrow morning. I'll be a little later than usual."

"If you need to, you can take the day you know." She said kindly.

Castle smiled. "Thanks, but I think what I need is to help solve this." He clasped his hands together and studied them as he thought of the changes that had taken place over the last few days. Surprising him, she encased his hands within hers. He brought his gaze up to hers to try and read the meaning of the touching. They didn't do this. They didn't touch. Beckett was walled off and except for an occasional brush of their fingertips while exchanging a cup of coffee, she didn't touch, hug, pat on the back or even encroach in personal space. She kept her distance…until now. Until just now. He drew his hands out from under hers, confused by her actions. He swallowed and pasted the media smile on his face to resurrect the barrier between them. He needed some space to figure this out. "I, um, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." He drew in a shuddered breath and after stopping by Esposito's desk to thank him for his help by feeding Espo's birds, he headed for the elevator. Castle heard Beckett tell Ryan to drag Byrd back to interrogation as the doors closed.

Kate pondered Castle's retreat; yeah, retreat was the only appropriate word. He affixed that damn fake smile to his face and beat feet. There was a time when she could not differentiate between his smiles, but she had been paying attention and she knew them. God the man was puzzling. "I'll be right back," she said to no one in particular as she left the bullpen. Esposito raised his eyebrows and exchanged a significant look with Ryan.

"Javi?" Ryan swiveled his chair to face his partner.

Esposito turned. "Yeah, bro."

Kevin scowled, deep in thought. "I work here, right?"

Esposito smirked, shook and then nodded his head. "Yeah, last I checked."

"What the hell is going on?" His younger partner raised his hands halfway in exasperation.

"What do you mean?" Esposito tried to look serious, but he was still overly amused.

Ryan gestured to Castle's and Beckett's chairs as he spoke. "Castle. Beckett. Castle and Beckett." He raised his eyebrows and spun toward the box. "Castle slugging the dude and Beckett not reaming him out."

"Oh," said Javi, nodding his head thoughtfully. He was thoroughly entertained by Ryan's questions.

"Oh?" Ryan asked, "Seriously, that's what you've got to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" Esposito looked his friend right in the eyes.

"I want you to explain the disturbance in the force, the rift in time and space, the reason Firefly was cancelled and please explain Beckett and Castle's relationship." Ryan gestured wildly.

Esposito raised his eyebrows. "You don't want much do you, Castle scout."

"Nope. I just want my world to make sense." Ryan leaned forward and held his head in his hands.

Esposito stood and patted his partner's shoulder. "I'm with ya, bro, I'm with ya."

"Augh! Beckett, what the hell was that?" Kate roared at her reflection in the lady's room. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she ground out as she executed corporal punishment on the unsuspecting and wholly innocent trash can.

At that time a stall door opened and Sharon Karpowski cautiously stepped out and up to the sinks. She glanced at the offensive can and back up to Kate's mirror image. "Beckett."

"Karpowski." Beckett answered, not meeting her eyes. She fought with the paper towel dispenser after finding the countertop in severe need of wipe down.

"Everything alright?" Sharon asked calmly turning the handle so the paper towel dispensed as it should.

"You know just the same old, same old." Kate ran her fingers through her hair.

Sharon smiled kindly, "Anything I can help with?" She tried her best not to turn her attention to the trash can, but Sharon Karpowski was a caring individual and the can was a victim.

Kate inhaled and returned her smile. "No, no thanks, I'm good." She nodded for emphasis and added, "Really good."

Not getting any answers to his current questions for the universe, Ryan plodded back to holding. This dude didn't have nearly enough time thinking about his small little life yet. He stepped to the door. "Come on Byrd. Detective Beckett needs to finish your interview."

"It's about time. I'm thinking seriously about suing the city. Who do I talk to so I can press charges? Is he still in there? I don't feel safe. He's using police brutality on me."

Ryan rolled his eyes but didn't answer the jerk.

"Is Detective Beckett the chick that looks like a dancer or maybe a stripper?"

Ryan jerked Byrd and slammed him into the wall. "All right, Byrd, that's it. You have the right to remain silent, so I am telling you; shut the hell up! Oh, and if you disrespect Detective Beckett again, I'll beat you up, too."

Byrd narrowed his eyes and puffed up his chest and his own bravado. "Is that a veiled threat?"

"Hell no!" Esposito overheard the exchange as they came back into the bullpen. "There's no veil there. Now shut up."

Ryan passed Espo on his way to interrogation and high fived his partner. Byrd decided to exercise his right.

Castle arrived at his loft and called out as he stepped inside of his front door. "Hello? Anyone home?" He sighed. 'Good,' he thought. He needed some time alone. With everything that had happened concerning Susannah and Byrd and now Beckett. 'What the hell?' He hung up his coat and walked across the spacious rooms to his office. He sat behind his desk and opened his laptop. He stared at the blank document for a moment. He wasn't really sure why he opened it, but he had always written down problems and concerns in the past. It helped him sort through his thoughts and feelings.

'Scotch,' he thought. 'Scotch will also help me sort through my thoughts and feelings.' He stood and crossed to the liquor cart he kept in the corner by the bucket o' swords. He picked up a decanter and glass and poured himself some. He took the tumbler back to his desk and he stared at the screen for a couple of minutes more before he closed the laptop and opened his top left hand desk drawer. He pulled out a dark brown, worn leather bound notebook and a Mont Blanc fountain pen. He opened the notebook, tested the pen on the corner of the paper, took a swig of the amber liquid; savoring the burn in his throat, and began to write.

Saturday morning was abnormally warm and muggy for a day in April. Rick ran two fingers under his shirt collar to loosen it a bit as he sat in a folding metal chair for the graveside services of Susannah Hamilton. He was dressed in his black pinstripe suit, a white shirt and a black and silver tie. Alexis sat by his side, seeming more pale than usual. Her black lace dress sharply contrasting her porcelain skin. She looked so grown. He didn't remember that happening. He reached over and grasped her hand in his. She met his eyes briefly and squeezed his hand back. Rick reflected back to his thoughts when he made comparisons between Susannah and Alexis. Less than ten years, both smart, both sympathetic, both vulnerable. He swallowed to tame the uncomfortable lump that rose in his throat as he realized, again, how fragile their existence was. Susannah had been alive and working to make life better for the kids in her care a few days ago. And now she wasn't. It just stopped. Terminated without warning. Susannah had plans, hopes, and dreams. Nobody ever thinks that today could be his or her last, he ruminated, no one lives like that, but we should. We all should make sure we don't owe apologies for wrongs we've done, that we helped others as often as we could, that we said what needed to be said. Everyday.

He leaned over and turned his head to Alexis' ear. She inclined toward him. "I love you, pumpkin."

She inhaled unsteadily, looked at him through teary eyes and replied, "I know, daddy. I love you too." He dropped her hand, threw his arm around her shoulder, and hugged his daughter. Rick wiped away the moistness under his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. He sat up a little straighter and surveyed the gathering. Most of the people in attendance were Susannah's age. Some he recognized from the school. He didn't see any of the parents of the children she helped. He shook his head. He resolved to speak with her class. Those kids needed guidance through the loss of their teacher, especially someone remarkable like Susannah.

Rick was caught up in his musings about life and death, the things you normally ponder at a funeral and whom he knew in attendance. He looked around and among the college friends and co-workers, he noticed a man, about Susannah's age, stand, and walk toward the casket. Castle thought it was odd that the man had an overcoat on today when it was so unseasonably warm. He was melting just in the suit. He watched him make his way to the front. He appeared to be distraught. Castle wondered if he was the old boyfriend or maybe just a friend. His heart went out to the anguish clearly written on his face.

Then he realized. "Alexis get down," he said as he shoved his daughter to the grass.

The trench coat concealed a handgun and the man pointed it toward the sky and fired twice before turning it on the panicked crowd of mourners, shouting. Everyone was diving for cover. In all of the commotion, Castle could not understand what the man was yelling.

He pulled out his cell and pressed her number. "Beckett," she said in her familiar tone.

He breathed heavily, keeping Alexis down and himself under cover and an eye on the shooter.

"Castle, you can't just call me and breathe heavily, you perv."

"No, Beckett, God, there's a shooter here," he rasped out.

"A shooter? What? Where are you Castle?" She rose. Her end of the conversation drew the attention of Ryan and Esposito who were already digging their guns out of their drawers and clipping the holsters to their belts.

"Ah, no. Tammy. Oh shit." Alexis, stay down. Castle dropped his phone on his seat and eased his way up the aisle between the chairs.

"No Dad, no!" Alexis' pleas echoed in Kate's phone. "Oh god get down…Dad?"

Beckett filled in her team in the elevator. "Castle's at Susannah's funeral and he said there was a shooter."

"Shit," Esposito exclaimed. Ryan pulled out his own phone as Beckett continued. He ordered black and whites to the cemetery address Castle had given Beckett.

"It sounds like Castle's trying to talk the guy down. Alexis is there."

The gunman had turned the gun on Tammy McDaniel. "Hey, you need to just relax and don't do anything you'll regret." Castle inveigled.

The gunman turned his focus and aim on Castle. Castle could see the crazy from fifteen feet away. "What are you doing? I said everyone was supposed to get down. That means you, too."

Castle crept a little bit forward. "Are you Geoffrey?" Tammy nodded, fear and realization co-mingling her expression.

"Who the hell are you?"

Castle shook his head and held up his hands. "Just a guy attending the funeral of a friend." He impressed himself at how soothing and calm his voice was. Inwardly, he was neither. "Did you know Susannah?"

"Know her? Yeah, you asshole, I knew her she was supposed to marry me." His voice thundered while he waved the gun over the terrified heads of the gathering.