Boundaries (Ch. 4)
Title: Boundaries (Team Castle, Ch. 4)
Characters/pairings: Kate Beckett/Rick Castle
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Kate's been giving too much to the Castles. Time to draw some boundaries, if Rick will let her.
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I'm not making any money off of this. If I were, I'd be off on a beach somewhere.
“Tell me why that would be a good idea, again?”
“Because this animal is evidence!”
Beckett pinches the bridge of her nose. “Castle. We can dust it for DNA right here. There’s no need to call Mounted and get them to loan us a trailer.”
“C’mon, just think about it,” he insists. “Parading a pony through the precinct and taking it over to CSU? How great would that be?!”
Beckett rolls her eyes and glances beseechingly at Esposito, who’s already pulling out his phone to call a buddy at CSU. The equine whuffs quietly and noses at Ryan’s pockets. Ryan sneezes and Castle chuckles.
Watching her friend’s face, Beckett checks her mental calendar. It’s been half a year since that phone call. Months of hospital visits, therapists, and a rapid procession of palliative caretakers. She’s finally gotten him to come back on cases with her, more for Martha’s sake than for his. She hasn’t missed him, exactly; she’s seen more of him these last six months than she had when he’d been shadowing her. A return to routine is what they both need. For him, it’s a chance to get out of the house, jumpstart the novel he’d laid aside, have stories to tell Martha when he gets home.
For her, it means listening to Lanie and reclaiming some of her time (You still paying rent on that apartment? ‘Cause you don’t live there no more), hoping that the palliative flavor of the month will be able to handle Castle.
Martha’s not the problem. Martha’s a trooper. And it’s not really Rick who’s the issue, although he’s run off at least three caretakers and even Alexis is looking exasperated with him these days.
She hears Lanie’s dry voice in her head again. Who do you think you’re fooling? Girl, you either make a move on his hot oblivious ass or you start drawing boundaries. You ain’t his girlfriend and you sure as hell are not his wife. Doesn’t matter how much you like his family-if you don’t play a little hard to get, one of these days you’re gonna end up cleaning his kitchen while he leaves for a date with a model. Now can we shut the hell up about Richard Castle and talk about shoes for five minutes?
“Ahmed from CSU’s on his way,” Esposito tells her. “He says he is excited about seeing, quote, ‘horsies,’ unquote.”
“It’s a pony,” Castle corrects him. “It’s not big enough to be a horse.”
“You gonna adopt it?” Ryan asks, rubbing at his nose.
Beckett’s only half-listening to their banter as she examines the victim and the bloody horse. Mentally, she’s ticking through the evidence of a struggle and making plans to question persons of interest, namely the wife. The remaining brainpower is given to watching Castle.
He looks a little older when his features aren’t animated by crime scene enthusiasm or when he isn’t flirting with her. In quiet moments she catches a tired expression lurking in his eyes, and his motormouth is more often pressed in a straight line. It’s better to get him up and moving, prompt him to start spinning his wild stories. She even caught him going in with the terrible two on a bet regarding two detectives in a neighboring precinct’s special unit. I’m putting my money on the woman making the first move, he’d said as she walked up. She looks like Beckett.
She’d teased him about it for a few days. Mostly Beckett’s just happy to see him going back to his devilish ways. It has nothing to do with the fact that somehow she’s become one of the only people in his life who can make him smile and mean it.
Oh, honey.
Shut up, Lanie, she thinks, before she realizes she’s talking to someone who’s not even there.
Castle looks happy right now. He’s holding the pony’s bridle as the CSU guy starts brushing and sampling the docile animal’s coat.
“I always wanted a pony,” he explains to her when she walks over. She just shakes her head at him, amused. “Hey,” he continues, lowering his voice a little. “You coming over tonight?”
Tonight is Tuesday. She reads to Martha every Tuesday when Castle is at his poker game and Alexis has book club. She couldn’t make it the last two weeks, and she has mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it’s been good to have some time to herself after closing a case. On the other hand, Martha is excellent company.
“I’ll try to make it,” she says.
“Glad to hear it,” he says, and gives her a warm look. Despite herself, she notices how his eyes crinkle at the corners. She’s a detective; she’s trained to notice details. Sometimes she wishes she could turn that off.
“Besides,” he continues, “you’ll get to meet Olga.”
“‘Olga’?”
Ryan pokes his head around the horse. “Who’s Olga?”
“Sounds like a supermodel. Nice going, bro. She have a sister?” Esposito quips.
Castle gives them an old-fashioned look. “Olga is Mother’s new caretaker. We like her a lot, much more than the last one. She’s quite funny. And very efficient, in a Nordic sort of way.”
Esposito cocks an eyebrow. “But is she single?”
The CSU guy beckons her over. “Mr. Ed here has some answers for us.”
Beckett shakes her head again as she moves around the pony. “This is gonna be good.”
“The pony’s results or Olga?” Castle asks.
“Both.”
* * *
Beckett’s knock on the door is answered by Alexis.
“Kate!” she exclaims cheerfully. “Dad wasn’t sure you were coming.”
“No, I was sure,” Castle calls from somewhere. “Did I not say I was sure?”
Alexis rolls her eyes. “Come on in.”
“I’m sorry, I’m a little early,” Beckett said, following the girl inside. Usually she arrives at 6:30; it’s 6:00. “We wrapped up sooner than I thought. Your dad left when I started doing paperwork.”
“You know Dad. Easily bored,” Alexis says.
Beckett’s about to respond when Castle emerges from the bedroom, ushering a small blonde woman in front of him. “Kate, this is Olga Rodriguez,” he announces proudly. “Olga, this is Kate. I mean, Beckett. I mean, Detective Beckett.”
Beckett stifles a chuckle and extends a hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Rodriguez. Rick here has been extolling your virtues to the entire precinct.”
Olga smiles and grips her hand. “It’s Olga. And please, feel free to clear the air and make a joke, I’ve heard them all before. My mom’s German, my stepdad’s Hispanic.” She turns to Castle. “You, sir, are not invited to make jokes.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not,” the caretaker says firmly. Over Castle’s protest, Beckett laughs. She likes the woman’s general air of competence. No doubt she can handle Castle. Martha, too.
After Olga goes home, Beckett leaves the two Castles bickering about whether to carpool or take separate taxis and pokes her head into Martha’s room.
“Hi, Martha.”
The older woman’s eyes sparkle. “Kate.” Speech therapy has been helping, though each word is still labored.
Beckett waves Waiting for Godot at her. “Godot, as you requested.” She settles into the easy chair near Martha’s bed and stretches her long legs out. “I’m looking forward to this. Is it one of your favorites?”
“Course, dear. Classic.”
Beckett leans back into the chair and watches as Martha lies back, still wearing a lopsided smile. It doesn’t smell like Castle in here any more. Doesn’t look like it, either; he’d repainted, swapped the furnishings, and moved upstairs as soon as Martha was released from the hospital. Every effort has been made to make this space comfortable and bright. Beckett likes being here, but she can leave any time she wants. Maybe that’s why she keeps coming back to Martha.
“Beckett,” Martha says.
“Yes?”
Martha points with her eyes. Beckett looks down at the cover and laughs. “Right. Samuel Beckett. No relation that I know of.”
“Pity.”
“I know!”
Later, she’s reciting one of Vladimir’s line from memory and happens to glance up. Rick’s standing in the hallway, watching his mother. Then his gaze shifts to her. She feels a pulse go through her and drops her eyes to the page, momentarily losing her place.
It’s 8:30 and Martha’s tiring; she interjects, “Thank you, dear.” Beckett closes the book, squeezes Martha’s hand, promises to come back next week if work allows. Then she turns the lights off and closes the door behind her.
Rick’s waiting for her, of course. Poker game must’ve ended early. Or maybe he left early. He shouldn’t do that; he should be out having fun.
... And I’m not going to ask him or nag him. Not going to.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he says, looking serious as she approaches him.
“And what would that be, Castle?”
“Oh, I think you know what I mean.” He takes a few steps toward her. “You drop everything to help us after Mother was hospitalized. You spend every spare moment for two weeks at a hospital on top of a full caseload. You come over for movie night with Alexis on weekends. You make sure I’m eating and getting out of the house.”
He’s not supposed to realize that. She freezes as he takes another step toward her and stops, all up in her personal space, putting his hands on her waist and drawing her closer.
"You're not a coworker, Kate. You are far, far more than that.”
Her mind is betraying her, spinning fantasies. There’s no outcome to this conversation in which one of them doesn’t haul the other against the wall and they make out like teenagers.
“You are not just a friend. We crossed that line long ago.”
She isn’t ready for this, Beckett tells herself. She needs boundaries; she needs to reclaim her life; she’s not ready to be whatever they are now-a not-quite-girlfriend whom he kisses in odd moments, flirts with in front of other cops, and plays at seducing. She’s only here because she’s a friend of the entire family, because all of them need her, not just him, and she will not let him pull her back in.
"You," he says, “are a member...of...”
She blurts desperately, like a cheerleader, "Team Castle!”
“What?”
“Team... Castle?”
After an explosion of laughter that his mother no doubt hears, Castle takes to teasing her about it every spare moment for a week straight. She’s just happy to have escaped.
She is happy, isn’t she?
Author's note: This chapter was hard to write, for some reason, especially the ending. Beckett and Castle kept necking, which as you can imagine interfered with the writing a teeny bit. I think only two more installments are left in the series, but we'll see.