A/N - Hi Everyone,

I'm back and very appreciative of all of your support, patience, and understanding as Kneel (yes, my titanium knee has a name) and I get acquainted. I'm happy to report that I have surpassed the expectations of my recovery team, am off of narcotic pain meds and so happy to be writing again.

Thank you to all of my readers and my wonderful reviewers. I re-read reviews while recovering and your kind words and excitement have truly helped my healing process and kept me motivated to deliver more of this and my other stories. Thanks!

I hope you enjoy the following.

In gratitude.

GeekMom

The Commitment

Chapter 13

Conflicting Philosophies

Kate Beckett was happy, genuinely pleased. They still had a murder to solve, but she felt she was closer to understanding the mystery of her partner. Beckett had never worked well with partners. Only a few people ever got close enough to really be considered a partner. Royce had. Not Will nor any of the other relationships she had had. Relationships? That was a dangerous word. Especially when thinking about Castle, she admonished her thoughts. She was only considering work partners. Her phone rang as she came out of the hospital's cafeteria carrying what was left of her coffee in a Styrofoam cup. "Beckett," Kate answered.

"Beckett, it's Ryan. How's Castle?"

"He seems to be better this morning. Did you get Geoffrey Robbins to confess?"

"No," Ryan admitted, "He's got a solid alibi: working at his grandmother's retirement home."

"Damn it," she cursed. Kate hesitated and then retraced her steps in the corridor. She did not want to go back to Castle's room and tell him that they were nowhere. She pulled a frustrated hand through her hair. "We missed something Ryan."

"Yeah, we know. We went back over Tammy McDaniel's interview. She said that she didn't know why Geoffrey and Susannah broke it off."

"Yeah," Kate said trying to encourage Ryan to continue.

"Yeah, but Geoffrey says that he got drunk and ended up in bed with Tammy. He says Susannah kicked him to the curb after that. How did Tammy miss that?"

Kate had reached Castle's room; she knocked and stuck her head in the door at his invitation. She mouthed, "Ryan," and pointed to her phone. He nodded and she flipped it to speakerphone. "Wait, you said he was drunk? How did he end up in bed with Tammy?"

Ryan answered, "Yeah, that's what got us thinking too."

Castle was dressed in clean clothing and sitting on the edge of the bed, awaiting the doctor's authorization for release. She thought he looked better, more relaxed in his blue jacket and dark emerald green shirt and jeans. Martha had apparently brought him a change of clothes and had taken the bloodied, sullied garments home. He stood but then sat back down immediately and closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness overtook him. His eye was swollen and now purple and green. The knot at his temple had reduced in size but blossomed in Technicolor. He opened his eyes shaking his head, eager to share his thoughts. He absently rubbed his temple, wincing at the touch of his rough fingers over the tender, damaged skin and tissue. "Geoffrey Robbins didn't kill her. It doesn't fit the story. He loved her. You could see his anguish and despair. He didn't want to hurt anyone but himself yesterday. It was how I would have written…" He quickly pinched the bridge of his nose to cover his eyes. "Beckett, Tammy said she didn't know why they broke it off. She lied." He did what Kate had heretofore labeled his heeby-jeeby dance albeit this time he did it while he leaned on the edge of his bed, and said, "I gave her my own handkerchief for her falsehearted tears." Castle indignantly exclaimed.

Beckett rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "Ryan, go pick her up and get her in back the box," she said into the phone. Get a warrant to search her place, get her phones and financials, too."

"Byrd!" Castle suddenly shouted.

"He has an alibi, Castle." Beckett said.

Ryan added, "Beckett had him back in the box after you," he cleared his throat, "expressed your opinion of him and left."

Castle could hear the younger man's respect at his emotional and physical response to Byrd's rant. He smiled briefly, then pursed his lips and shook his head. "Ryan, didn't you say that Byrd colluded with someone to sabotage Susannah's classroom?"

There was silence on the line except for shuffling papers while Ryan looked over his notes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said as if discovering hidden treasure. "Charlie Parker said that he heard Byrd and another man talking about their plans. Um, Tom Callahan."

"Why haven't we questioned him?" Beckett demanded.

"He's off the grid, Beckett; we've got an all points out on him and his car. No one has seen him at the school or at his apartment. He's been like vapor, but we're keeping both locations under surveillance."

"Okay, pull Callahan's phone and financials and get a warrant for his place as well. I think vanishing right after the murder might convince a judge that there could be probable cause." Kate ended the call and sat down heavily in the chair next to Castle's bed.

"She lied to us, Beckett. Rookie mistake: my initial read on her was that she was guilty of something. But I was swayed by her emot…" He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, deep in thought. "Actually I don't believe Tammy did it," he said slowly. Beckett looked at him blankly. "Well, think about it. Susannah was a tall woman, almost six feet and," he cleared his throat, "she had a bigger frame than you do."

"Castle, is that how you always estimate the size of a suspect?" She stared at him.

"Um…yeah…I …um…call it the Beckett scale." She started to reprimand him but he continued. "It's really very accurate and you can use it for things other than actual body size." He clapped a hand over his mouth and shut his eyes. Apparently, when he had a head injury he let his mouth run on. Good to know. Keeping it in check was another matter.

"What other things?" She asked very quietly. Way too quietly, he gulped and she could see his Adam's apple bob nervously. "Castle, what other things does the Beckett scale measure?" She repeated as she stood and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Um…noth…nothing…much…you know I've been injured, right? Moreover, that I'm taking medication that under the strictest definition it could be said that I was coerced in this interrogation. Seriously, this will never hold up in court."

"Castle!"

"Okay, I use it to measure height, weight…"

"How do you even know my weight?"

"Um, extensive research and observation," he reminded her.

She narrowed her eyes. "You read my personnel file. How did you…" She let her question die. The mayor, of course. Castle had gotten permission to view her file from his personal Santa Claus. She would have to have a chat with Captain Montgomery about what kind of access Castle should be given in the future. She pursed her lips and regarded him from under hooded eyes. "What else?"

"Well…um…how tough a perp is…um…hotness and your epic bad ass-ness." He mumbled the latter part of his explanation and refused to look at her.

"What? What was that last part?" She ordered loudly.

He carefully looked up at her and innocently said, "Your…" he took in a breath, "your epic bad ass-ness."

Beckett glared at him and moved until she was literally breathing down his neck. He positively melted under her close quarter's examination. He swallowed audibly and breathed rapidly. "Before that," she whispered very close to his ear.

"Ha...hot…your…um…hotness?" He was positively dripping off of the bed into a Castle sized puddle on the linoleum.

Kate reveled in the fact that she could quickly reduce him to a sticky spot on the floor with a stern look and intimidating words. 'Good,' she thought. 'He needed to be fully aware that she was not to be objectified and used as a measuring stick for anything.' "Castle," she said quietly and dangerously, "Do not at any time use me as the standard for any measurements you feel necessary to make in the future. Am I clear?" Surreptitiously she appreciated that he considered her the standard against which all else was measured. If she was being honest, she was flattered that he had learned her physical characteristics so thoroughly. She shivered. She clamped the lid down on that box as well and she shook her head to clear it of her double-crossing and salacious thoughts.

"Um…okay," he said as he began to breathe once again. Relieved to get just the minor tongue-lashing, "huh," he said aloud at the totally inappropriate thought that accompanied the term tongue-lashing. He smiled and then winced but he was not sure if it was the pain from his injury or the glower from his Beckett that caused it. His Beckett. He filed that inappropriate thought for examination later as well. "At any rate, how did tiny Tammy McDaniel attack, subdue, and strangle a far larger woman? I mean, I estimate her at about one hundred ten pounds. How do those mechanics work?"

"There are techniques, Castle, for a smaller individual to take down a larger one." She said as she sized him up.

"Um…defensive techniques. Even if Tammy approached her ex-friend, how did she get the drop on her? It would take tremendous strength to take Susannah down. Tammy doesn't even have strength of character let alone physical strength." He shook his head. "There's something else, Beckett. Did we ever get anything on the anonymous letter writer?"

"No: forensics came back identifying only known prints: Susannah's and Principal Wilkins. He alibied out."

"So the person who wrote the letters anonymously thought far enough ahead that they wore gloves so they wouldn't be implicated in a possible murder investigation? Either the letter writer is clairvoyant and knew the future or…"

"Or the letter writer is our killer. If Tammy McDaniel isn't the killer, it still doesn't explain why she lied."

Castle was thoughtful and subdued. "No, no it doesn't and we truly don't have anything to go on: no forensics, no witnesses, no known motive, maybe it was…random after all." He scrubbed a hand over his face in defeat. They had unsolved cases since Castle had begun shadowing her, but they were few and far between. She had gotten used to the optimistic Castle, not the guy leaning on the bed with a proverbial half-empty glass. He looked crushed.

"Hey," Beckett said quietly, "No one is giving up. I do not believe it was random Castle. We'll find the bastard." She had moved back toward the bed during her declaration. He startled when she leaned next to him on the bed and placed her arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "I promise you I'm not giving up."

The box had seen its share of suspects and witnesses, who could display differing emotional possibilities from apathetic and laconic to sobbing or to an expletive laced rant that made Esposito blush. This week it was all water-works. First Geoffrey Robbins practically flooded the room in his conspicuous display of his grief and now Tammy McDaniel occupied the box weeping into the same handkerchief Castle had given her two days ago. She sat and waited alternating from whimpering to blubbering while Ryan and Esposito analyzed her phone and financial records. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her money: she mostly lived paycheck to paycheck. However, there was a remarkable series of phone calls over a period of the two weeks prior to Susannah's death to and from the elusive Tom Callahan: more than a colleague but less than a girlfriend.

Esposito hung up his phone and turned to Ryan. "Yo, I just got a phone call from Charlie Phillips, the school's janitor."

Ryan nodded. "Knows everything about everyone."

"That's the guy, probably knows about you, honey milk," Esposito smirked. Ryan began a protest but it remained unsaid as Esposito continued. "Anyway, he said he remembered a confrontation he walked in on between the vic and Tom Callahan. He didn't hear what the argument was about, but he did hear an emphatic 'no' from Susannah. He didn't think there was anything romantic between the two, but their relationship, which had been friendly, was strained after that. That was about a month ago."

"Do you think he was trying to make a move on the recently single Susannah?"

"I suppose it's possible. It still doesn't explain why she was killed."

"We need to find Tom Callahan." Castle said from the passenger seat. "He seems to be the missing link. You are the…" he began in a high-pitched nasally British accent.

"Castle, do not imitate Ann Robinson." Beckett directed as she drove her battered partner away from the hospital. His bruises were that much more colorful in the bright sunshine. He was still pale and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He had called his mother from his hospital room and told her that Beckett would be picking him up. Then he convinced his ride, against her better judgment, to let him go in to the precinct. There had been whining and sulkiness and she was pretty sure he had feigned a dizzy spell or two. If she had believed them to be real, she definitely would not have let him return to the twelfth today. Beckett's cell phone vibrated with a text.

She pulled it out of her pocket to read but Castle snatched it from her hand. "No texting and driving, Beckett. Jeez, where's a cop when you need one." He swiped his hand over the lock screen and read the message. "Tammy McDaniel is in the box. She apparently had some sort of extra-curricular relationship with Callahan. Do you want her or do you want the boys to take a crack at her?"

"Wait, she knew Callahan? How well? What sort of relationship?" She bit her lip. "Tell them to wait. I'll take her." Beckett scowled in consternation. This case was becoming more convoluted every minute.

"I didn't kill her!" Tammy McDaniel stood and declared as Beckett and Castle entered interrogation one. Castle's eyebrows shot into his hairline and he was doing his best not to smirk. Preemptively shouting at Beckett was not the way to gain her consideration. Beckett arched an eyebrow. McDaniel was desperate for them to believe she had nothing to do with the murder. Kate was not feeling particularly generous. This woman had lied to them, in fact played them for their sympathies. No, Beckett was not in the mood to be generous at all.

"Sit down Miss McDaniel," Kate barked. The question was whether to let her dangle in her uncertainty or to approach her from a place of safety. Beckett smiled humorously. Definitely the former. "Why should we believe you?" She asked as she and Castle sat opposing the woman. The last time we talked, Miss McDaniel, you said that you didn't know why Geoffrey Robbins and Susannah Hamilton broke up. You conveniently left out the part where you drugged Geoffrey and brought him back to your bed and the part where Susannah discovered you and left Geoffrey on the spot."

"Love triangle, jealous rage, envy, disappointment. It's the oldest motive there is Tammy." Castle added, eyeing his former handkerchief clutched in Tammy's deceitful fingers. He made a face of revulsion.

McDaniel rapidly looked from one to the other of her interrogators. "No, no, no, I didn't kill her. She…she was my best friend…my only friend. I had to…I had…Tom would've…" She buried her face in her hands. Beckett and Castle observed her display through a jaundiced veil. "Oh my god, it's my fault," she screamed suddenly as she stood up. Both Castle and Beckett backed up in their chairs at the woman's unexpected outburst. "You're right! I did kill her." She collapsed in a heap in the corner of the room.

Beckett raised an eyebrow and looked at Castle who was also at a loss at Tammy's abrupt confession. Castle rose and walked around the table to where Tammy wept on the floor. He looked to Beckett who nodded: it was time to offer her a place of relative safety. He reached down and gently steered her back to her chair. Beckett offered her a glass of water. "Tammy," Castle began in a slow non-threatening voice. "When you say you killed her, do you mean that you physically performed the act or that your actions and decisions brought about her death?"

McDaniel blinked a few times as if she had come out into the sun after living in a cave. Beckett endured as much of the silent pause as she could before prompting her again. "Who killed Susannah, Tammy?"

"I…I don't know," the young woman said softly. "I was only supposed to distract Geoffrey long enough for Tom to get closer to Susannah." Her confession was quiet but liberating. It appeared to Castle as if she had been released from a weight on her shoulders. Tammy continued her story, which turned out to be a heavy yoke of lies, conspiracy, and death. "I had subbed for another teacher and Susannah; well she reported an incident to Wilkins."

"The principal," Beckett clarified.

Tammy nodded and looked plaintively at the detective. "She was supposed to be my friend. I thought friends had your back. I didn't…it wasn't that big of a deal," she parlayed, "but Susannah just wouldn't let it go."

"What was the incident?" Castle asked. Even if it wasn't pertinent to the crime, Castle always wanted the entire story.

Tammy lowered her eyes in what appeared to be shame. "A…another teacher asked me to cover-up a procedural complication in exchange for…he said he would…" she covered her eyes with her hands again.

"Tammy," Beckett snapped, growing weary of the melodrama. "Said he would, what?"

McDaniel took in a larger breath than her tiny frame could have possibly contained and confessed. "He said he would be available for…benefits."

Castle excitedly clapped his hands together once. "Seriously? Sex? That's what your price is?" Tammy examined her lap and nodded.

Beckett rolled her eyes. "What does that have to do with Callahan?"

"Tom wanted something from Susannah. I don't know what it was but I didn't hesitate when he asked me to distract Geoffrey. I wanted to get back at her for turning me in. She ruined my chances of securing a permanent position there." She ended defiantly.

"Why did Tom want Geoffrey distracted?" Castle asked. He pursed his lips and his face contorted as if he were trying to hold in nauseating sickness. Beckett had seen the look before. It occurred when his faith in the innocence and basic goodness of humanity had been shattered once again. Even with all he had witnessed since beginning his ride-along with her, he still held fast to the basic belief that most people were good. Beckett did not. As far as she was concerned, most people had a base, dark soul that they carefully concealed. Their true nature only lying in wait until an opportunity presented itself for its freedom. It was just another example of the differences between herself and the writer.

"So he could get closer to Susannah." Tammy answered.

Beckett narrowed her eyes as she always did when on the verge of uncovering a truth. "Why did he want to do that?" She asked, intending to trip up Tammy's testimony.

"To get whatever she had." Tammy's answer was less than satisfying as she repeated herself. Beckett pursed her lips in distaste. It was clear, now, that McDaniel did not know what Callahan held over Susannah's head.

She slid a piece of paper and a pen across the table to McDaniel. "Write down everything you know about this sordid collusion including all the names of everyone who took part.

"Am…am I going to jail?" McDaniel asked in a small voice. Her brown eyes were huge as she realized the implications of her actions.

"Yes," Beckett answered in a matter of fact tone, "but how long you will be there depends entirely on how much information you give us now." She stood and Castle followed suit. "We'll be back later. You write and don't leave any details out." Beckett instructed as she pointed to the paper. She strode from the room with Castle close on her heels.

Castle slowed as they walked by the break room. He touched her elbow. "I need a minute to process whatever the hell that was." He nodded toward the break room. "Coffee?" He asked. She nodded and proceeded to her desk. 'Thank god for Castle,' she thought, 'he could read what she needed when she needed it, whether it was coffee or a break.' She was really beginning to enjoy their partnership.

Castle brought Detective Beckett her fix and sat it down on her desk. She was addicted to the stuff to be sure. She let the heady aroma fill her nasal cavities before she tentatively sipped the hot ambrosia. He observed the ritual as he had done many countless times before. He let a small grin find its way to his lips.

Beckett caught it and smiled in return. "Um…thanks Castle. It's perfect."

"You're so very welcome, Beckett." He reached for his own cup that he had placed on the edge of her desk. As he reached, she noticed his cufflinks peek out from under his suit jacket. They were silver in color with a deep blue variegated smooth stone set in the face. They were beautiful and they looked expensive and cufflinks, really? Who wore cufflinks every day? Her father had some for special occasions. His everyday cuffs had good old-fashioned run of the mill buttons on them. Castle was a millionaire. Her father was not. Beckett came from a basic middle class background. Although she didn't know much about his upbringing, she surmised Castle's was very different from her own. He was raised by a single mother who was an actress, after all. He had probably been used to finer luxuries from an early age.

Her eyes travelled up the length of his arm from the incongruous cufflinks to his bruised face. He was battered because of his basic belief that people were, by and large, good. She inferred that he was troubled because he had been exposed to another example of the deviousness of humanity. She shook her head and he questioned the movement. "Beckett? Is everything alright?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question." He gave her his complete attention. She was struck once again by just how blue his eyes were as they silently examined her face for her true meaning. "We just found out that Susannah was into something that got her killed. Something that appears to be unsavory. I know how much you admired her and she is turning out to be human, just like the rest of us. I wanted to make sure you were okay." Her phone rang. "Excuse me, Castle. Beckett."

Castle regarded the detective. It amazed him that for someone who had been exposed to so much of humanity that she actually didn't have a realistic understanding of the race. She believed that people were either good or bad and he guessed that she believed people could not change. It was all very black and white. He wondered if this unwavering assessment of humanity is what allowed her to part the gaseous veils that encased lives and see to the heart of whatever crime she investigated. He also knew that this same resolute understanding ironically prevented her from seeing the complete picture. Did Susannah get into something that got her killed? Certainly. Those disclosures did not change his perception of her. She was a good person who apparently made some wrong decisions. A person that would not be given the opportunity to atone for whatever sins she may have committed. That was the real tragedy in Castle's opinion. Not to be able to make amends for past wrongdoing or mistakes was the ultimate punishment. He wondered who had let Beckett down so utterly that resulted in her rigid perceptions of people. He wondered if this philosophy was also the reason he had been the target of countless cutting remarks regarding his character and motives. Yes, he thought sadly. He had engaged in his own transgressions and although many were exaggerated for the purpose of selling books, the deeds had been reported widely without censure from him. Unless he could influence her viewpoint, he realized he had already been condemned by the Beckett system of justice.

It was indeed hopeless, but Richard Castle had never been a hopeless person. He exuded hope and refused to be mired down by the hopelessness of others. He smiled his most authentic and heart-warming smile. It reached his eyes and his injuries were sidelined by his vivacity. He needed her to know that he would not be dissuaded by these revelations: that he would serve as an example to her and maybe, someday lead her out of the prison of her judgment.

Beckett ended the call and he answered her question. "I'm fine, Detective, I never believed Susannah was more than human. Nobody is. We have all tread the fine line between good and evil. Most of us walk it every day. Sometimes a person loses their balance and needs to be steadied by another. It doesn't make them evil."

Kate stared at the writer. She had not been prepared for a serious answer from him. In fact, she was expecting deflection. He never spoke of frank issues with her. She didn't really think he was capable. "I…I was just checking." Kate flustered for a moment before smiling. "That was the surveillance team on Callahan's apartment. Guess who came home?"