Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I watch the show.
Esposito is surreptitiously tracking Beckett, who has just left her desk and walked into the break room. He turns towards his partner. "Have you noticed that? Why does Beckett keep getting up? Must have been ten times since we rolled in, fifth time to the break room. She's not getting coffee. Not getting tea. Not taking her mug in there."
"Don't ask me," Ryan says. "Maybe she's just stretching her legs. Jenny did that a lot when she was pregnant."
Espo glowers. "By stretching her legs, do you mean going to the bathroom? Because that's what I think you mean. She hasn't been to the bathroom once. And where she's mostly going ain't the bathroom. It's the break room."
"Why don't you just ask her?"
"You serious? I'm not asking her. Get my ass kicked."
Beckett is rooted to a spot in the break room, breathing deeply.
"Mom, what are you doing? You keep jumping up and going somewhere but not doing anything."
She takes a few steps forward, and inhales sharply, twice.
"I hear you sniffing, Mom. No, you're not crying are you?"
Ryan is craning his neck, trying to see what Beckett is up to without actually leaving his chair. "She's bowing her head, man, like she's praying. You're right. Something weird is going on with her." When he sees her slowly raise her head he immediately lowers his. "Watch it, I think she's about to come back."
"You're the one who better be praying, bro. Praying she didn't see you."
Beckett strides into the bullpen and smiles at the boys. "I'm gonna go grab some lunch."
Ryan is taken aback. "But it's only ten fifteen."
"Really?" she says, checking her watch. "Oh. Yeah. Well, um, I think I'll just stretch my legs for a couple of minutes. See you."
"Way to go," Espo mutters once Beckett is at the elevator, out of earshot.
"What?"
"Could you be any more obvious? God."
"Well, at least I was right about her stretching her legs," Ryan says, a little smugly.
As soon as she's through the precinct lobby and out on the sidewalk, Beckett pauses and does a quick survey of her immediate surroundings. She has only a little time or the boys will start wondering about her. Probably start a pool, Where's Beckett?, since there's nothing much going on at the moment, and they're bored. She nods, decision made. She walks forty feet to her left, makes another left, goes less than half a block and pushes open the door of a shop.
"Ooo, Mom, yay! Are we where I think we are? I can never get you to come here."
She seldom comes here because she likes small, independent places far more than chains. Castle, on the other hand, is a habitué: he loves the sweets that Starbucks displays enticingly in glass cases by the checkout counter. The line is short because it's the midmorning lull, but rather than join it, she takes a seat—the one closest to the baristas.
"Why are we sitting down? We're in Starbucks, right? Please, please could we get a piece of their lemon pound cake? It's my favorite. The kind Dad sometimes brings you and you don't finish which means I don't finish and so he gets it."
Beckett is wearing a dreamy expression. Her eyes are almost closed, her head tilted back, her lips turned up slightly. Any passer by might think she's asleep, were it not for her nose, which is twitching regularly. From time to time a sigh escapes, followed by a barely audible aahhhhh. She's taking what she calls–though she will admit this to no one—a CAB. A coffee aroma break. If she can't drink it, and least she can smell it. She'd rather have tea than stoop to that decaf swill. It's all or nothing, baby.
"Now I get it. Mom's been smelling coffee! I remember at the beginning, when I was really tiny, I loved coffee. Mom drank a ton of it. And then one day after about a month, boom, it was gone. She stopped."
She sits up, shakes her head and decides she might as well get something while she's in here. Besides, she kind of owes them, since they let her sit and smell the coffee for free. Maybe a piece of the lemon pound cake. Castle loves it, and he's coming into the precinct later. She collects the little paper bag and heads back to work.
"You got the cake. It smells yummy. Why aren't you eating it? Please! Just a bite."
As she walks to the Twelfth, she's suddenly hungry. She peeks into the bag. Hmm, maybe she'll have a little. Castle can have the rest of it. She breaks off the corner and pops it in her mouth. Huh, yeah, it really is good, especially that little strip of icing across the top. Better than she remembered. Maybe Castle won't get any of it, after all. She might have to finish it right here on the sidewalk. She does.
"Thanks, Mom. That was the whole enchilada! Get it? I made up another joke!"
Castle had arrived at the precinct while Beckett was mid-sniffathon in Starbucks and is shooting the breeze with Ryan and Esposito, who had wisely chosen not to mention the break-room trail that Beckett has been blazing. He turns when he hears the elevator ding. "Hey, Beckett," he says, and goes to her desk.
"Oh, Castle. Hi. I didn't expect you 'til later."
"Finished sooner than I thought. Where you been?"
"Oh, just out for a few minutes. You know, air out my brain."
He knows that look. That detectable-only-by-him scintilla of nervousness when she's trying to hide something. This will inquire skillful investigation on his part. He thinks for a moment, knows what might work. It's been working lately, anyway. He looks towards the break room. "I'm gonna get myself an espresso. You want anything? Tea?"
"Nope. No. I'm good." Oh, God, he's going to come to her desk and put that cup about ten inches away from her. And then he'll start talking and wave his hands around the way he does and that will just spread the unbelievably spectacular smell of the coffee all through the air around her. She can almost see little molecules of it dancing there, taunting her. That's it. She's going in there with him. Get close to the source.
Castle looks up from his coffee ministrations. "Oh. Change your mind?"
"Nope. Just like watching you work that machine. It's very sexy."
He smiles and looks through the window. Coast is clear. "Sexy, eh?" He grabs her for a quick kiss. Huh. What was that? He kisses her again. "Beckett? Have you been at Starbucks? You taste of their lemon pound cake."
"Uh-oh, Mom. You're busted."
"What? That's crazy. I never go to Starbucks."
Oh, she has been. This is it. "I am a lemon pound cake connoisseur, and I definitely taste it. In fact—" he leans in and licks the corner of her mouth, "there's my proof. A tiny crumb." He knows that what she's hiding is not the cake, it's the Starbucks. His mind is working as fast as it ever has. Aha, he's sure of it now. He takes Beckett's hand and with his other brings his cup under her nose. She moves just enough for him to feel it.
"Castle! What the hell are you doing?"
"It's the coffee, isn't it?" he asks, and lowers the cup. "I've noticed you the last couple of days. In the morning, you've been hovering over my mug, lingering by the coffee pot. Let me guess, you're getting high on the smell, right? You're running on fumes."
She drops her head against his chest. "Oh, God, Castle. I'm an addict. It's unbelievable. I just haven't had any coffee in so long and all of a sudden I'm really craving it. I mean, I've gone this long and now—." She stops for a moment and begins speaking very, very fast. "So I went out and Starbucks was the closest place and I went in just to smell the coffee but I felt guilty about not buying anything so I got the cake." She puts her fingers to his lips. "And please don't make the joke I know you want to make about smelling the coffee. Not when I've just made this horrible confession."
"She's always saying she wants coffee. She whispers it but I can hear her. One time I heard someone say it would stunt my growth. Maybe she should have a cup because I'm growing plenty in here. I think that's why we're on desk duty, because I'm so big now."
"I think I know what this is all about."
"Yeah?" She's mumbling into his shirt.
"It's the desk duty. You're not going out on cases, getting jazzed on that. So you're really craving the coffee buzz."
"You're right. Dunno why I didn't make the connection. I've been going stir crazy, cooped up."
"You? What about me? I'm running out of room in here."
She stands up straight. "Okay. I think I can handle it now. It's only for a couple of months. Thanks, Castle. You know what?"
"What?"
"You're a hell of a detective."
TBC
A/N This story has passed the 25K mark—halfway to the Summer Ficathon finish line! Thank you very much for all your support.