A/N - Hey All!

Thanks for all the words of encouragement as I healed and got to know Kneel better. I'm hoping this makes sense. I actually had to go back on pain meds temporarily but they're not as strong as the others (no hallucinations this time). Anyway, I thought I would try to give you an update before I started full time work again (ugh) so here it is.

As always, thanks to all my lovely reviewers and readers. You're awesome!

Enjoy!

~GeekMom

The Commitment

Chapter 14

The Steps of the Dance

Uniforms had picked up Tom Callahan and were bringing the elusive suspect to the twelfth for questioning. Beckett sat alone in the conference room getting her head together: focused. Focused: yeah. Castle wasn't himself on this one. She couldn't blame him. When you knew the victim, it was always different. Everything was personal, everything was more intense, and everything meant more. Kate tried to keep her personal feelings out of her head, tried to focus. Damn: there was that word again. She sighed and started to pace around the table. How could the absence of irritating and distracting gibberish cause her to be distracted? Castle wasn't himself to be sure. Not once had she heard any off the wall theories, no mob hits, no CIA, no circus performers gone bad nor the ever-popular aliens amongst us. She allowed herself a small smile: circus performers. Castle would love that one.

She looked through the blinds to the bullpen. Beckett was not accustomed to second guessing herself. She had told him that they were bringing in Callahan and then asked him to sit it out in observation. The evidence pointed to Callahan being the mastermind behind the conspiracy and Beckett was afraid that Castle would react badly. He reacted poorly to her benching him. She thought back to their confrontation a few minutes prior. It had not gone well.

"That was the surveillance team on Callahan's apartment." She informed him as she hung up her phone. "Guess who came home?"

Castle's excitement showed on his face. He could read the evidence as well as any detective on the floor. They had him. Beckett was certain Callahan was their guy. Castle was sure of it also. "What's our angle?" He asked as he sat up: attentive and eager.

Kate inhaled and flattened her lips against her teeth. This would be difficult. "I don't think you should be in there." She said quietly.

"What?" He slid forward on his chair, the volume of his voice dropped so only she could hear him. "Beckett, this is the guy. What do you mean? Why?"

"I just feel that you may be…belligerent toward Callahan," he said as she fiddled with her desk drawer knobs.

"Belligerent? You're damn right I'm belligerent toward him. He killed Susannah."

"Don't you see that this is exactly what I'm talking about? In order to get the whole story and a confession from him, I need him to feel safe at first. You know this but you're too close to see that your reactions could put it all at risk. You aren't using your head and I need you to be smart."

"Not using my head?" He sat, dumbfounded.

"Look at yourself, Rick, your injuries. You acted like a berserker in that cemetery. Putting yourself at risk…not thinking it through. I need to get this guy to confess. All of the evidence is circumstantial. I cannot have you risking everything when he compromises Susannah with his statement. You'll go after him. You're unreliable in the box right now."

"Unreliable? What could I have possibly done to make you think that?" His voice was rising. "Beckett, I've been with you at every step, every turn, every false lead and deception. I...I owe it to her." He watched her reactions closely, trying to get a read on this maddening new development.

"And that's it." She turned her chair so it was facing him more directly.

"What? That I owe Susannah closure?" He was standing now: frustration seeping from every pore in his body. Beckett noted that they were starting to get sidelong glances from the other occupants on the floor. She shook her head because Espo and Ryan were busily looking busy and not looking as if they were listening.

"You feel like you owe her and I'm certain we are going to find out that she wasn't all sunshine, lollipops, and light, Castle. I need to make sure that nothing jeopardizes his confession even if he implicates Susannah."

"Back the truck up! It sounds to me like you're trying to implicate her. She was the victim: remember? You do remember that we try to get justice for the victims Detective or does that just apply to cases you care about?" It was a low blow and Castle knew it. He closed his eyes and regretted it the moment it flew out of his mouth. There was a low slow whistle coming from the vicinity of Esposito's desk but other than that, the bullpen was silent.

Beckett gritted her teeth and he could see her jaw muscles clenching. "Castle!" She snapped. He turned to face her. Beckett's eyes were at once fire and ice. "You're done on this one," she said unnervingly quietly. "You can stay in observation or go home."

"But…" He let the rest of his protest go. Beckett had already made up her mind and long experience had told him that he was just wasting his time and effort. Cop, judge, and jury had spoken. The detective could be warm understanding, and tolerant, but sometimes, like now, she was harsh, forbidding, unapproachable and freaking stubborn. He stooped to gather his jacket and walked out of the bullpen without another word or glance in her direction.

No, she thought from her perch on the edge of the conference room table; that had not gone well at all.

"Beckett." Montgomery called, breaking out of her contemplation. He walked in to the room and closed the door.

Esposito and Ryan had observed the emotionally charged scene from the beginning: both of them knowing better than to get in between Beckett and Castle: it would be like trying to break up a dogfight. Ryan watched Castle exit, uncharacteristically without a word to anyone. Then he observed Beckett stand up from her desk and stalk to the conference room. He turned to Esposito who shook his head.

"What the hell was that?" Ryan asked after he scooted his chair toward his partner.

"I don't know. Maybe Beckett has a point." He said conspiratorially. "You can read where this is going, right? Susannah won't be painted in a good light. It's why he such a great friend: that loyalty."

"Yeah, but I don't think he would jeopardize the interrogation. For a civi, he's great in there. You've seen him."

"I've seen him with perps that haven't killed a friend of his. Castle can get emotional. I can picture him grasping at straws to preserve his friend's memory, throwing out accusations and threatening the perp."

Ryan rolled his chair back. "Man, how can you say that? Castle may not be the most professional out here tossing out those wild theories, but I've never seen him anything but professional and focused in the box since he started with us." Ryan's loyalty was unwavering like that of a cocker spaniel. Esposito knew that, when it came down to it, his partner had his back too.

"Really? Dude. Nick Byrd?" He reminded Ryan that Castle had decked a witness recently because of the guy's off color remarks about women in general and Beckett in particular.

Ryan shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "Oh come off it, Javier. You or I would have gone off on that jack ass too."

"Yeah, but what if something comes out in this interview about Susannah that he feels he needs to defend. Nah, man. Beckett is right."

Castle stalked out of the bullpen but bypassed the elevator: he did not want to wait. He essentially flew down all four flights of stairs, slammed open the access door and strode across the lobby and out of the precinct. Once he was out on the sidewalk, he took a moment to figure out what the hell just happened. She was just so maddening. One minute they seemed to be working effortlessly together, then without warning she shut him down, shut him out, pushed him away. Damn it, she was the one who had been all touchy feely lately, concerned about him, and refreshingly not taking every opportunity to knock him down a peg.

Castle prided himself on being able to let things, situations, people and their remarks and opinions roll off of his back. He could not have survived the rejection of being a writer if he took it all to heart. He knew what kind of man he was therefore, people's views, usually based on the gossip columns or half-truths, didn't concern him. Except with Beckett, it mattered. Her opinion mattered: it mattered what she thought. It mattered that every time they had had a serious conversation it took her by surprise when he gave a thoughtful answer. It mattered that she supposed he was incapable of controlling himself. It mattered that she still assumed that he was that other guy: the character on page six. It mattered that she believed people could not change: that specifically he couldn't change or grow.

He sat down heavily on the steps. Sure, when he had met her over a year ago, his main objective was to get her into bed but by the end of the first case, there was so much more he wanted to know. He wanted her story. She had given him bits and pieces over the next several months, had forgiven him when he went against her wishes and looked into her mother's death. She had even said that she wanted him with her when she finally found the truth.

He tried to learn the steps of the dance but then just when he thought he had figured them out, the tempo changed or they began a new dance altogether. This was the hardest thing he had ever done and it did not appear that Beckett was ever going to make it any easier.

The question came down to this: stay and work for her respect but probably never earn it or cut and run. He did not need to research her or the precinct anymore. He could walk you through procedure with his eyes shut at this point. "The question is Rick: do you want to continue?" He asked himself. "Is this even about the books any more or is it about something else?" He sat on the steps for a good long while before he stood up, cleansed his lungs with a deep breath, and walked away.

"Sir?" Beckett stood up from leaning against the heavy oak conference table.

Montgomery entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Everything okay?" He asked as he tilted his head to assess his best detective. Montgomery had mastered the ability to read his team. He knew their nuances as well as their characters.

"Yes sir. I'm just getting my head together before they bring in Callahan. You know, going over previous testimony, working up a theory."

"A theory huh. Where's your partner?"

"Um," she shrugged toward the bullpen. "Out there…sir?" She gestured, positive that Montgomery would have seen Esposito and Ryan on his way in there.

Roy pursed his lips impatiently. "I'm not speaking of the wonder twins. Where is Castle?"

Completely surprised that the captain had called Castle her partner, she stuttered. "Um…I…sir?"

"The whole floor heard your, uh, disagreement. Where did he go?"

She inhaled. "I guess he went home," she said. "It was one of the choices I gave him."

The captain sat down in the chair at the head of the table and regarded his detective. "I'm not going to second guess you, override you, or tell you that you should let him into the interrogation."

"Good," she said defensively.

"But I am going to tell you that I think you mishandled this."

"Sir…"

He held up his hands. "Hear me out, Beckett. Castle, with all of his messing with things that ought not to be messed with, his questions, his disregard for procedure, with all of that, despite all of that, he has the heart of a good cop." He held his hands up again as she started to protest. "Yes, detective, I know he's not a real cop. Yes, I know he can be a pain in the ass, but Kate. He is good for you and the team. We can get pretty jaded, down in the trenches of humanity day in, and day out. It is our jobs to deal with the underbelly of society of which most people are blissfully ignorant; it is not Castle's job. It's a given that no matter where we started out our glass, because of what we've been exposed to, will be half-empty. It's a fucking war and anybody who tells you different hasn't seen humanity the way we have."

"That's my point, Captain. He doesn't see it. He doesn't have the experience. He's too optimistic. He'll be heartbroken when we find out about whatever Susannah was in to."

"You're wrong and right Beckett. He has seen it. Kate, he's been riding with you for over a year. He has seen it, he's been up to his neck in it, and still he keeps coming back. I think you're selling him short. I don't believe he'll give the perp an out if he's your guy, regardless of what he says about her." The captain shook his head. He stood and leaned on his fists on the table. "He is hopeful still and that's what makes him a valuable part of this team." Montgomery lifted his hands, cupped palms up as if he was comparing the weights of two rival mangoes. "He's your balance, Kate. Your counter point. Your…"

"My yang," she completed his thought and smiled. Castle had said that she needed a yang to her yin. That is what he took away from his observation of her with Agent Will Sorenson. Will and she were too much alike: a Yin-Yin. He had been right: it did sound like a name for a panda and she needed a yang. Castle was proving himself to be her yang.

The elevator pinged just as Montgomery opened the door. He, Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan all turned to see the determined countenance of Richard Castle. Montgomery turned back to her and raised his eyebrow. "He still keeps coming back," he repeated, jabbed his thumb toward Castle for emphasis as he walked back to his office.

Castle nodded in the boys' direction as he walked determinedly to Beckett's desk. She wasn't there. He turned back to Ryan and Esposito who simultaneously pointed to the conference room. She was speaking with Montgomery who was heading out the door. Probably asking to get him thrown out of the precinct, he assumed. He inhaled. If that's what she wanted, he wouldn't fight her. He watched Montgomery go back to his office, set his nerves again and walked to the conference room. "Beckett," he said as he swung the door closed behind him. He placed a coffee cup down on the table in front of her. "This is for you."

Kate looked up from the papers she was pretending to study. "Oh. I thought you went home." She accepted the coffee. "Thanks."

"I was…I was going to." He pursed his lips. "You can be…I want to finish this. I want to be here for her. I…I'll stay in observation." He had closed the door but not the blinds. Ryan, Esposito, and Montgomery, along with anyone passing by were watching the silent drama in the conference room. "I believe I can still be of some help…from observation, of course." He looked down at the table and then back up into her face. "I'm sorry, Beckett. I shouldn't have lost my temper. I'm not sure what the hell happens but every time you and I seem to be together and on the same wavelength or working well, in a rhythm; it's like we lose our momentum and fall over." It was not exactly the truth, but he wanted back in. Telling her she was the reason they repeatedly had to start over would not win him any points or back anywhere near to where he wanted to be. "I just want to help. Let me prove it to you. I know what's at stake. I'm committed to you…I…I mean…" he registered the trapped expression in her eyes whenever he said something too real, too ardent. "…or you know, to the precinct and um…the team, the whole team." He nodded toward the boys who both picked up their phones and appeared to have gotten calls at exactly the same time exactly then. Castle smirked.

Beckett sized him up. Beyond the verbal slip about his commitment to the team, he seemed to be making an honest effort and appeal. The elevator sounded again. She no longer had the luxury of time to deliberate this with him. Tom Callahan had just been brought up in handcuffs. Beckett brought her gaze back to Castle who was waiting, eagerly for her permission to rejoin the case. She rolled her lips in between her teeth. She looked up at him, his eyes, not unlike a puppy's, waiting for her. She rewarded him with a very Beckett eye roll. "Okay, already. You can help."

He slowly angled his head toward her as he waited for her to lay down her verdict.

"You can sit in on the interrogation." She sighed as she gathered her papers, coffee, and walked to the door.

He followed. A slow smile spread across his face. You would have thought she just told him that he could indeed have a pony at the station.

She spun back around toward him. "But Castle, the first time I hear you defending Susannah against anything he says, you're out of there. Got it?"

Castle still beamed. "Got it," he affirmed. His eyes lit up as he followed her to her desk. He draped his jacket over the back of his chair, silenced his phone, and followed Beckett into interrogation.