Chapter 117

While Beckett retreated to the quietness and security of her home, Castle spent his day doing all sorts of activities that any man with a new lease of life would consider. First thing, and on top of the to do list that day, he had done the deed with Beckett. Several times. Then all the legalities of the Coonan debacle, though not a part of his list, had been completed with the Captain. With the shooting of Coonan behind him, and after he departed the Precinct, he had embarked on an atrocious spending splurge that no one else knew about yet. Not on stupid stuff but on things to benefit his future or to gift his beloved women.

He returned home heavily burdened with shopping bags and a wad of newspapers. With a bourbon, he sat at his desk, scanned the newspapers and cut out the articles about the Precinct shooting. He pasted the clippings in a notebook and jotted down the source of each in neat handwriting. Detective Beckett was the main subject journalists wrote about. They were also focussed on speculating the alleged victim was the crime fiction writer Richard Castle. There were pictures of himself and Beckett in most articles, labelling him as the person whose life was threatened.

That afternoon while he worked away with his cut and paste skills, Castle realised his consciousness was certain about where he wanted to be should he need to respond to that ridiculous 'where do you see yourself in five years time?' question. He knew exactly where he planned to be.

Using a small notepad, he jotted a rough bucket list of all the things he wanted to achieve, see and experience. There were long, short term and general goals. Once he was finished, he sorted the list into priority. Fifteen major goals with a few minor ones thrown in for good measure. There were a few special ones as well. He wrote it out neatly on a piece of his favourite good quality paper then folded it into a square. It was slipped into his wallet where he could access it anytime he needed to remind himself of where he was headed and to cross off what he had managed to achieve.

Then he wrote. He put the experience with Coonan all down on paper. Wrote every detail he could remember of the incident. The order was unimportant, but he imprinted the paper with emotions, colors, descriptions such as her hooked finger nervously poised over the trigger, her large eyes, greener than ever, exhibiting how calculated her thought processes were. He had seen her agonise between her heart and her head when she had carried out her offence with Coonan. He wrote about his own fear, how he thought his life was coming to an abrupt and agonising end, that he hadn't said everything he wanted to say, hadn't written that novel that would set them up for life. He wanted to leave his small group of women when he knew they would be financially secure. He didn't stop until his brain was empty of words. The notebook was locked in the desk drawer to prevent any nosey readers from viewing it, and he went to the kitchen to eat.

He cooked up a meal of steak and chips, sat at the kitchen counter and downed it with an icy cold beer.

* *. *. *

Castle was at home when Alexis returned from school. He was still elated because he was alive, as he had literally dodged a bullet. He was in the office when he heard the front door close.

"Alexis, is that you?"

Alexis who was at the end of a busy school day and weary from learning yelled back, "Yes, Dad."

He waited, keen to see his daughter but instead he heard her footfalls on the landing of the stairs.

"Al, you're not going to come say hello to your ol' man?"

"Dad," she whined, but he heard her drop her school bag and her shoes cross to the living room.

He stood and went round the desk to give her a hug he had longed for all day. However, she felt stiff in his arms which was disappointing. He set her back, held her by her arms.

"Is something wrong, Honey?"

"Nothing."

"Ooops. That's not a nothing. What's on your mind?"

She shrugged herself loose, her expression decidedly unhappy, her eyes very blue and sad. "Dad, you almost died."

"Technically, no I didn't. I'm perfectly fine, Alexis."

"Fine, alright. At school today I learned from a third party that my father had been held hostage with a gun dug into his back."

"Who told you that?"

"What does it matter? You were the one that Detective Beckett saved. It was you and her involved in that incident, wasn't it?"

Rick breathed in, and decided to be honest, "Yes. It was us, but we're fine. Who told you and what did they tell you?"

"A friend at school has an uncle who works at the 10th Precinct, Dad." Alexis was angry, "He told me what allegedly happened."

"The tenth? How would they know?"

"They knew enough to tell me that you had a gun to your head and that Beckett took a chance by shooting the guy and risking you."

"That's not how I remember it. The gun was in my back, and I gave Beckett the opportunity to take Coonan out. She wasn't reckless, if that's what you heard."

"I heard you were compromised by being held at gunpoint when she fired her weapon."

With all their shouting, they didn't hear the main entry door open and then slowly, gently close.

"False, I broke his nose with my skull so the police could take him out. Regardless, I'm pissed off that my daughter has heard incorrect rumours."

"True or not, Dad, you're with Beckett and yet again your life is at risk."

"Don't you dare put the heat on Beckett for this. What happened was because of my actions. I always need to protect her from you, Alexis, and particularly now you know she shot a man dead to save me things will be worse."

"Why didn't you tell me more? I was caught off guard."

"Because we're dealing with the fall out of it. It was personal, there were legalities, my reaction, Kate's reaction."

"You should have-"

"Alexis, you're not a part of what happened."

"I live here, Dad!"

"Yes, but your life is to go to school, get an education, not check up on me. I didn't involve you and don't intend to."

"I have a right to know you're safe."

"I am safe. See?" He held up his arms and completed a turn, then looked at his daughter. "No holes."

Alexis was horrified, afraid and damn angry. So angry, she stomped her right foot on the floor, startling her father, who smirked in disbelief of her actions. It was that moment Alexis screeched.

"You had a gun held to you! You covered it up. Lied to us about what happened."

"Whoa, there." Rick raised a pointed hand, "I didn't lie to you. No. It was all over the media platforms, so it was easy to find out generally what had happened."

"I shouldn't have to read about my family in the paper. Beckett risked your life!"

"No. Beckett saved my life."

"She put you in danger." Alexis yelled and swiped tears from beneath her eyes.

"Alexis, you're wrong."

"You follow her into danger. You're not a cop. You're a writer."

"I'm her partner."

"In the bed or the office?"

"Alexis. Enough. Do I need to remind you I am the parent in this?"

"Do I need to remind you I am the child and you are my parent, Dad. In fact, I would rather go live with Mom."

He scoffed. "You know she doesn't want you full time."

"What do you know? Too busy running after…"

"You know she won't take care of you."

"But she doesn't risk her life."

"What on earth is going on here?" Martha interrupted, her tone high and full of shock. Alexis turned about, her cheeks flushed.

"Dad had a gun pointed at him. The incident at the Precinct. He lied to us."

"Richard?"

"I didn't lie, and I don't need to be baled up by my daughter who is trying to control my life."

"Control?" Alexis was furious.

Alexis stormed past Martha, red hair flying behind her. She rushed across the living room.

"Alexis, come back here right now young lady." Rick hollered, now as angry as he ever got.

Halfway up the stairs, Alexis yelled out, "I'm going to call my mother. I'm going to live with her in LA."

"Sure. You do that, Honey," he yelled back and then with pursed lips he looked at his mother, then continued loud enough, "You won't last a week."

"Richard. What on earth?" His mother hissed and Rick glanced at her as he paced the office. He was seething.

"I'm sorry," he firmly said.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I don't know."

"She's furious at you," Martha calmly said as Rick slowed up near her.

"She's more than furious, Mom. The hostility that is developing-"

He growled in frustration.

"What started it?"

"One of her school mates told her what happened at the Precinct." He breathed deeper and slower, but felt the anger was still to peak.

"Oh, Dear. She won't go to live with her, Mother. Even I know Meredith won't have her stay there. Custody was the one of the things you did agree on as parents."

"I was the better parent to raise our only child but now I'm starting to question that. Are you staying in?"

"Yes."

"I've gotta get some air."

"Yes. Get some air. Where is Katherine?"

"No idea," he replied and swiftly left the office to his bedroom closing the door.

Beckett was woken by what she thought was someone at the door. She sat up on the bed, groggily gazed around the bedroom wondering whether she was imagining the sounds. New apartment, different noises. The late afternoon sunlight maintained a warm bath on her body making her want to remain where she was. They tried the doorbell again. She sighed, thinking it was Castle and he couldn't get in with the chain engaged. But when the doorbell didn't receive the desired response the person on the other side of the door began to knock.

She stood off the bed, momentarily deliberating whether using the toilet was more important than answering the door. She hurried through the living room to answer the caller aware she wouldn't be able to pee in peace until she did. As she pulled on one of Castle's sweaters, she peeped through the fisheye lens to see the doorman standing in the hallway staring at her door. The chain was hastily slid loose then the deadlock was released. When the door was opened, the tall handsome black man in his mid-fifties smiled showing a full set of brilliant white teeth. He also carried a bundle of boxes.

"Oh my," she sputtered out, wondering when the hell she went online for some retail therapy.

"Ms Beckett. Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon."

"These all arrived for you this afternoon. Seems you've been busy online shopping."

No recollection of having done so. "Nope," she replied, "Definitely wasn't me. Come off shift and been sleeping."

"Well ma'am, by the looks of these beautiful roses its someone who cares a lot for you."

"Maybe it is." She accepted the boxes, bid the man farewell then shut the door with her foot as she turned to return to the living room. She disposed of the boxes on the coffee table, then attended to that urgent call of nature.

It turned out the boxes were various gifts from Castle. Initially, she was frustrated at him for spending money on her but given some thought she understood this was his way of overcoming the shooting. She slept and kept quiet, and Castle dashed off to celebrate and spend up. Retail therapy. What he had spent on himself was a scary thought.

For Kate there were five boxes. The longest, whitest box contained a dozen long stemmed red roses the doorman had admired.

The card, written in his handwriting read, Dearest Kate, You are the love of my life. Thank you. Yours always, Rick.

She placed the rose in a vase that was once her mother's and positioned them on the middle of coffee table. It was a place she could view them from almost anywhere in the apartment.

The second package contained a red clutch purse she had been attracted to in an expensive store the other day while out shopping with Castle. He had also purchased a pair of heels and a sweater. In the last box were two pieces of lingerie, one in black lace and the other a silk piece in Rick's favourite red. Purely for his enjoyment. She smiled, fascinated with his love of expensive and beautiful pieces. The gifts were thoroughly inspected. Wearing the sweater, Kate slipped her feet into the Jimmy Choo's and paraded the living room her thoughts mixed. The heels were lovely and she knew off the top of her head what outfits they would go with but her thoughts were focused on trying to figure out why Castle was going on this spending spree.

Several times she called Castle to check in, to see how he was and to thank him for the gifts, but he didn't pick up. Instead, she sent him a text thanking him and asking whether they would meet up later.

The calls or text were not responded to.