castle fanfiction, castle/beckett - the ends opening into new ends always (8/10).

[recycledstars]

--

When he came to, his wrists wouldn’t move and his head pounded. He immediately squinted into the early morning light streaming through the dirty glass into the warehouse, turning his face away from the offending brightness. Blinking, he realised his hands were bound at the wrists behind his back, tied to Kate’s; he could smell the familiar scent of her hair. He grabbed at her fingers, managing to squeeze her hand awkwardly. She stirred behind him.

“Kate?” he whispered.

“Mmm, Castle?” she groaned. “Where are we?”

His eyes had grown accustomed to the light and his headache had subsided enough to be bearable. He took a cursory glance around the space. “A warehouse that’s being used as a still,” he concluded. “That’s the smell; it’s makeshift hops.”

She shuddered behind him, “It reeks. And my head is positively pounding,” she made a soft gagging noise, “I want to be sick.”

“They must’ve knocked you around real good.”

“Any idea who they were?” she leant her head back against his shoulder and he took a deep whiff of her hair. The smell of cherries was comforting.

“No,” he shook his head, “I didn’t see a thing before the bag came down over my eyes.”

“Shit,” she exclaimed, making a noise through her teeth and tearing at the ties that bound their wrists in frustration.

“You know, I’m beginning to realise you have a much fuller vocabulary than I had thought,” he remarked as she struggled.
She gave up after a short tussle with the ropes. Realising it was futile, she slumped against his back, and sighed, blowing her stiff curls off her face. “It won’t budge,” she told him, unnecessarily.

He nodded, rubbing his thumb along her palm. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of here.”

“How? Do you have some kind of plan?” her rage at the situation very neatly transferred to him and his platitudes. She found herself grinding her teeth and released her clenched jaw, sucking in a calming breath.

“No, but …” he began to defend himself, tired, sore and similarly irate. He didn’t like being faced with a situation he couldn’t charm, cajole, buy or simply write his way out of.

“I told you when we first started out Castle, I don’t need my hand held and you cooing some nonsense in my ear to calm me. I won’t have you thinking you need to protect to my feminine sensibilities or some similar nonsense.”

“I wasn’t trying to mollify you. And if I want to protect you it’s not to protect your sensibilities, if you have any, it’s because I love you.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Fine. If you’re going to be petulant, I have nothing else to say.”

“I am…” she huffed out half the sentence before realising how ridiculous she sounded. She bit down on her lower lip and clenched her hands into fists. He grabbed at them as well as he could with his fingers. “I don’t mean it to sound stupidly optimistic,” he said, “And I’d just as soon say the same thing if it was Ryan or Javier tied up behind me. You know how highly I think of you honey. It’s just that… I have to think we’ll make it out. The alternative is so utterly miserable I can’t bear to think of it.”

She relaxed her hands and linked her pinkie through his and whispered it. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed and curled his finger around hers, “Me too.”

Their captivity did not pass quickly for him. After the first two, uneventful hours, she began to fade in and out of sleep, but his mind was churning, processing scenarios slower than he could imagine them. The sun had long ago risen higher than the windows, and from his best estimation, it was early afternoon before anyone came for them. It was one of the men from the night before. He unbound them and gave them both water, but the weapon in his hand left little room for escape attempts.

“Boss’ll see you now,” were his only words.

She was expecting to see a familiar face, but when the gangster entered the warehouse from a door she hadn’t previously noticed, she was surprised to find it wasn’t the face she had anticipated. Charlie Pulgatti strode toward them, waving off his muscle. She squared her shoulders. Beside her, she saw Castle nearly slump with relief. Well, she supposed, it’s true; Charlie Pulgatti was less likely to have them killed. Still, she didn’t appreciate being nabbed off the street.

“Mister Pulgatti,” she spoke first, calling his name across the warehouse so it bounced off the walls.

“Hello Miss Beckett,” he answered. “Or Mrs Sorenson was it?”

“It’s Beckett now,” she responded, unflinching.

“I see. And Mister Castle,” he nodded to the writer, stopping in front of them where they had dragged themselves to stand, the cut ropes still lax at their feet. “I see you’ve met my boys.”

“We have,” she affirmed, “Last night in fact. I wish I could say it was a pleasure.”

“Well I’ve heard that you’ve got some information that might interest me,” he said, “Some information that might exonerate my brother.”

“We have leads,” she said, “But nothing solid.”

“I don’t need solid missie,” he made a fist at his side and leant into her personal space but she didn’t turn her head. “I need that name you’ve got.”

“And in return?” she asked. “What do I get?”

“Justice?” he retorted, “For your mother. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I’m not sure I’m interested in your brand of justice.”

“Well how about protection?” he re-joined, “I’ve heard the law and a very powerful man is gunning for you. You don’t want me to be gunning for you too.”

“That’s true,” Castle assured him quickly.

She whipped her head to glare at him. He shrugged. It was true; he didn’t want Pulgatti or anyone else gunning for them for that matter.

“Well if I don’t get my name the civilised way,” he threaded his meaty fingers together. “Then I assure you, there are other ways. You’re the easiest path to what I want Miss Beckett. Don’t make things hard for yourself.”

“I need time,” she was thinking out loud, but Castle only knew that from observation. To a stranger she sounded as confident as she always did. “I know you mean to kill the man who wrongfully put your brother in prison, and I can’t condone that. It won’t help get your brother out.”

“I know that. But he will pay for what he did to my family.”

“Let me have a day or two to think it over,” she bargained expertly, “I’ll give you an answer the day after tomorrow. You’ll have your name, and we’ll know more about our situation with the law. You’ll be in a better position to give me something I need in exchange for what you want.”

“And if you don’t?”

“If I don’t,” she met his eyes, “Then I guess I’ll just have the law, a very powerful man and a second rate gangster gunning for me.”

He guffawed. “Ah, I remember your tongue now.” He grabbed her by the neckline of her dress. She struggled against his hold. “But there’s nothing second rate about me or any of my boys, you got it? If you don’t give me the information I want, then I will kill you.”

She twisted out of his grip and straightened her dress. “I’m not afraid of that. Do we have a deal?”

He held out his hand to her. “We do.”

--

Pulgatti’s men were polite for gangsters; they threw Castle and Beckett from the car onto the curb just a block from his rowhouse. She adjusted her skirt on the ground and stood gracefully while he scrambled to his feet. He turned to offer her a hand, but she was already walking down the street in the opposite direction to his house.

“Kate,” he trotted forward a few paces to catch up.

She paused and threw a glance over her shoulder, pausing when she saw him. He came to a stop beside her. She was smiling.

“What?” he asked.

“You looked funny, that’s all.”

“And if you don’t mind me asking, where are you going?”

“Are you kidding Castle?” she half-laughed, half-sighed, rubbing at her wrists absently. They were raw from being bound so long. “After the day we had, I could use a drink.”

“To Javier’s then.”

She nodded.

He led them through a different exit to the alleyway they had used the previous night. It opened into the back of the club, by the stage. A band was playing and the dance floor was crowded. He took her hand and they weaved through the dancing couples. He spun her into a seat at their usual table. Ryan was already there, halfway through a beer.

“Look who it is,” he called over the music, “The two of you are awfully cosy these days.”

She blushed and patted her head, checking that it was still pinned. “Excuse me,” she stood, “I’m going to freshen up.”

“Sure,” Castle nodded, “I’ll fill Ryan in.”

As soon as the crowd swallowed her, Castle let his fist bump into Ryan’s shoulder.

“Ow,” the detective rubbed his bicep and made a face. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry for teasing your girl.”

“Good,” he sat down beside his friend, “Besides, it’s not what you think.”

“Come on, you don’t expect me to believe you haven’t…”

He made a face. “No. I mean. Yes. I mean, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Ryan guffawed, “And since when has Rick Castle been a gentleman?”

“Since the lady was …”

“Actually a lady?”

“Hey. Not so good.”

“Well you have to admit…”

“I have to admit what?”

“She’s got class that one,” Ryan finished his drink. The unlike the others was silent. “And enough brains that I expected her to be too sensible to fall for the likes of you, too.”

“I’ve never had complaints,” he sniffed, pride slighted.

“From showgirls and flappers?” Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll have you know that Gina had class, in her way.”

“Gina was mean as a shrew and had a nose like one too. Her saving grace was her figure and we both know it.”

“She was well-read,” he defended.

Ryan smirked. “I’m sure of it.”

“Besides, Kate does have class, which is why I’m sure she doesn’t need the likes of you spreading her business all about town.”

Ryan narrowly dodged another clip to the upper arm, weaving out of his seat and towards the bar. “Fine. I’ll keep me mouth shut in the future and, as a proper apology, I’ll by the lady a drink.”

“Oh wait, before you go, I had something to tell you.”

Castle motioned closer. Ryan leaned in.

“On the way out of here last night Pulgatti’s men jumped us,” he told the detective, “Had us tied up in a warehouse down at the wharfs for the day. He’s a little bit upset that we haven’t been forthcoming about our investigation.”

“Ah, so that’s why the lass was so sensitive,” Ryan remarked, “Normally a remark like mine’d get a good retort out of that one.”

They both smiled fondly.

Castle grinned, “She’s good for it.”

“That she is. So I’ll tell Javi you’ll have his best whiskey and a gin for the lady?”

“Please. And ask him about some food would you? We haven’t eaten since last night.”

“Will do,” Ryan nodded. “And this gangster, is he making serious trouble for you?”

“I think we can handle him.”

“Well if that changes, you let me know.”

“I will.”

After Ryan went off to the bar, Kate reappeared looking freshly made up. She sat in Ryan’s seat and gave him an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to run off. He just reminded me that we spent most of today kidnapped by gangsters and that I might not fit in too well if I didn’t make myself more presentable.”

“You don’t need it,” he reached over and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And he shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Did you tell him about Pulgatti?” she let her face rest against his hand.

He nodded. “Said to let him know if he gives us any more trouble.”

Her smile faded slightly. “Do you think he will?”

There was the hint of a bruise beginning at her temple. He pulled her closer, wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss against the purpling flesh before answering. “We bought ourselves time, but you know we’re going to have to give him the answer he asked for.”

She leant against his side and nodded, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. It was a quiet moment, despite the spectacle their surroundings provided. He kissed her again, “How are you feeling?”

She pulled backwards and smirked at him, “Where do I begin?”

“I meant your head,” he loosened his hold, letting his hand slip down her arm and rest on her waist. She eyed it, then him and gave him another little smirk but when she didn’t say anything he grinned to himself, feeling accomplished.

“My head is aching and I’m tired, but I don’t think the damage will be permanent. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

He made a face. “Pulgatti definitely interrupted something I was hoping to finish.”

She raised an eyebrow but her retort died on her tongue when Ryan approached, balancing three drinks expertly in his hands.

“Whiskey,” the Irishman set the tumbler down in front of Castle. “A pint, and,” he slid the last tumbler across the table and announced it apologetically, “A gin for the lady.”

“Thank you Ryan,” she smiled at him.

“You’re welcome. Oh, Javi says there’re food and an open bottle of wine upstairs. You’re welcome to it. He’ll want to hear the full story when he’s got a quiet moment... for business reasons.”

“Tell him he’s a pal,” Castle took a sip of whiskey. “Actually Ryan, would you mind terribly if we ate now? You can join us.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, no. You two go on now. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Castle followed his eye across the room where Jenny had just walked in wearing a new dress. “Ah,” he jibed, “I see how it is.”

Ryan very nearly blushed. “Maybe I want to ask her dance.”

“I’m sure.”

“Castle,” Kate tutted, “Don’t tease. Come on, I’m starving.”

She’d turned away before Ryan’s face broke into a smug smile. He made a whipping gesture with his hand.

Castle rolled his eyes and trotted off in pursuit of Kate. He caught up with her amidst a throng of other patrons moving through the small space and put a hand on her back. She whirled around into him, face relaxing from her initial surprise when she recognised him.

“Javier’s place is up the stairs over there,” he said in her ear.

The warmth of his breath in her ear crept down her spine. The hand at her back guided her toward a nearly invisible door in the wall beside the bar. When they reached it, he looked sideways, and held it open for her while they slipped into the narrow corridor within the bowels of the building. Ahead was a staircase more rickety than the one that led down into the bar. She gripped at the railings and took a tentative first step. At the top of the stairs, she opened the door to a small, dark flat that smelled of exotic cooking. He joined her on the top step, reaching ahead to turn on the lights, but for a moment they were face to face in the small space. Impulsively, she leant up on her heels and kissed him. He fell back against the wall in surprise. He brought his hands to her body, one arm around her waist and the other pushing her hair from her eyes and cupping her face. When she pulled away he held her close, kissing her forehead gently. "We're all right," he said, quietly.

She nodded, mutely, running her hands up his chest, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt. When it fell open, she tugged at his undershirt, pressing her fingers into his stomach. Her hands were cool against his skin. She held her hand to his chest; his heart skittering beneath her fingers. The rhythm was a comfort, evidence of their continued survival.

"Just… be with me, please," she whispered in his ear as he bent his head to kiss her neck.

He pressed his mouth to her lips in reply, softly. She kissed him back with a kind of urgency. Desire was his response; it shot through him. He nudged her backwards, through the doorway and across Javier's small apartment to the bed in the corner. They collapsed into the mattress, pawing at each other's clothing. She laughed into his mouth as he struggled with the small, fabric-covered buttons along the side of her dress. He nipped at her bottom lip in reply but the trembling in her chest didn't stop. It turned into a surprised gasp when he abandoned his pursuit and thumbed her nipple through her dress. She wriggled out from under his hands and pulled her dress and slip over her head. The room was cast in shadow. Her pale skin caught the yellow light of the streetlamp outside the window. He pulled her back down beside him, pressing his mouth to her neck. She caught his head between her hands and pulled his mouth to hers in a clumsy slip of tongues. His hand found her breast again, tugging at her nipple. He’d discovered she was quite receptive to a little roughness in the right mood. She moaned, nipping at his neck in response.

It lacked grace or finesse and was little more than a quick, fumbling in the dark driven by need more than want. He pressed his fingers against her, thumbing her clit while thrusting with his middle and forefinger. It was too much too soon, and she gasped but ground into his hand so he didn’t stop. Clumsily, she managed to wrestle his pants open one handed. He shuddered and his hand paused when she let her hand slip along the length of his erection.

They knew each other’s bodies well enough, and with mumbled encouragement and frantic kisses they moved together and even with his uncoordinated hands and her awkward position, she stilled, clenching around his fingers and gasping into his mouth. He thrust into her hand a few times more before spilling himself against her fingers. Breathing heavily, they lay still in the dimly lit room. She pushed him backwards with her sticky hand, wiping it against his undershirt and cuddled into his chest. His heartbeat was racing. She listened to the lub-dub rhythm, comforted by his pulse and her own screaming in her ears that they were alive.

He reached down and smoothed her hair. “We should clean up.”

She nodded, and sat, stretching her arms out over her head. “You can go first.”

He stood and pulled his undershirt over his head, throwing it square in her chest. “You might as well clean off with it now.”

She wiped her hands and gathered her clothes together, waiting for him to finish in the small bathroom. He emerged, dressed from the waist down and stopped in front of her, letting a hand rest against her shoulder as he bent to kiss her softly. “I’ll make dinner.”

When she had washed up, she pulled his shirt around her and went to stand by the wood stove. He was stirring a saucepan full of spice-scented meat. She held her hands out to warm them against the fire. "What is it?" she peered into another pot containing rice and turtle beans, curious.

"Javier's mother's recipe," he told her, holding out the wooden spoon. “You look good in my clothes.”

She eyed it suspiciously and nibbled at the offering tentatively. "Ooh. It's spicy."

"Here," he handed her a glass of wine.

She left him to the task of preparing their dinner and sat at the small table in the corner, smoothing the table cloth with her hands and twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers. "You must thank Javier," she observed, "For all his assistance. And Ryan. I know he teases, but he's been a help."

"I will," he approached juggling two bowls and his own glass of wine. He set down his load and placed one of the bowls in front of her with a flourish. "Madame."

She smiled quietly. "Thank you."

They ate in food-filled silence. It was different to what she was used to eating, but she was too hungry to savour the flavours. She scraped the bowl with her spoon and sat back in the chair, watching him eat. When he was done, she rose and took their things to the sink. She ran the water until it scalded her hands and scrubbed the dishes. He braced his hands on her hips and leant around to peck her cheek. "I love you Kate," he said very seriously, hugging her closer. She sighed back in response, leaning into his embrace and letting her eyes slip closed, her hands still immersed in the dishwater.

--

The next day, she slept late which was why she awoke to a fuss in the foyer. She pulled on a robe and peeked down over the bannister, unnoticed, as Lanie scowled at Ryan and Castle paced. Interest provoked, she dressed hurriedly and pinned her hair as she descended the stairs, pins sticking out of her mouth at odd angles. Lanie moved to help her tame the last of it. She smiled, gratefully.

She greeted them all politely but sought Castle's eyes. "What's happening?"

He opened his mouth but couldn't think of how to say it. Ryan interjected. "We're sorry to wake you, but I thought you both should know. That new information about that dead gangster’s stirring up a fuss at the station this morning. The boys will be around in short order to bring you in for questioning."

Castle stepped forward and hovered at her side, like he was getting ready to catch her if she fainted. She gave him a look and he stepped back slightly. She relented a little and shuffled closer until their sleeves were touching. "What are we going to do about this?" she asked him.

Ryan loudly declared a desire for tea which Lanie begrudgingly obliged, leading him into the kitchen, giving them some space.

"I already called my lawyer," Castle took her in his arms. Her whole body sighed against him. "I explained the situation and don't worry, I didn't tell him about how you were involved; in an unofficial capacity he advised me to twist the truth. They don’t have any solid evidence. Nobody except us saw what happened and the only reason the usual suspects haven’t been rounded up and shipped off up the river is because our friend Senator Brown is pulling puppet strings. In any case, a trained killer had a knife to my throat. It was more than justified.”

“So what? We go down there and lie?” she pulled back to stare at him. “My father is a lawyer Castle. I know that that’s a crime in and of itself.”

“Well if you tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, they won’t let you leave. And prison, my darling, would be wasted on you, or you would be wasted on it. In any case, it’s what your mother’s killer wants, to publicly damage your credibility and lock you away where no one will listen to you. If it comes to it, I’ll tell them I did it. Shh,” he held a finger to her lips when she started to protest, “On this subject, I won’t hear it.”

She felt as though everything was falling in on top of them, on top of her. Suddenly claustrophobic, she pulled away from him and paced, looping into the living room and back. She stopped in front of her mother’s desk and let her hand glance over the wood. He seemed to sense that she needed time to process, so he did the best job he could of leaving her alone, which amounted to hovering in the doorway, watching her carefully.

Eventually, she turned and looked at him sadly. “I’m so sorry for all this mess,” she said, “I know I never asked you, but I should have known better than to let you be involved.”

“It’s not that bad yet,” he took her by the shoulders. “This might be nothing, might be routine. They’re not going to hold us if we don’t say anything important. Ryan said they haven’t bothered to fabricate any real evidence yet. It’s a lot less work if you break down and confess.”

“You’d break down before I did,” she challenged.

“You’re probably right. Kate,” he tipped her chin up with his thumb, “We can do this, get past this.”

“And after that?” she sighed, “Then what? How along until they actually arrest us? Do we tell Pulgatti’s men what we know and let a man be murdered in cold blood, for revenge? What about your family? I can’t let you tell them you did it; not for Alexis’ sake.”

“We’ll worry about what happens next after,” he promised her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “One move at a time. This isn’t chess.”

She nodded, once. “All right. You’re right. One thing at a time. But Castle? After this is done? We have to find a way to nail him once and for all.”

He nodded his accord and released his hold on her. Ryan took his leave before his colleagues had a chance to catch him delivering the tip. She ate breakfast though she had no stomach for it while they waited. It wasn’t long.

They weren’t being arrested, the policemen made that clear, but they were being detained for questioning. In the basement of the police station, they were separated into two separate rooms. Hers was glaringly lit; the steel chair was cold beneath her hands. She waited for a time she couldn’t place. There was little natural light. She tapped her foot impatiently.

Their first run at her was in relation to the events of the night Coonan had been killed. Those she took easily. It had been a long time since, and though she remembered it clearly she pretended she didn’t. If she hadn’t shot a man, it would have been a completely ordinary, unmemorable night. When it was clear they weren’t going to get anything out of her that way, they switched tactics. The question about her divorce surprised her, but she brushed it aside as an anomaly. When it became clear it wasn’t, and she was bombarded with increasingly personal questions, she became impatient with the process. She folded her arms across her body and gave shorter, terser one or two word answers.

The questions were brutal and personal. She felt thoroughly humiliated. Then there was all the things she realised she didn’t know about her partner. That he had been married once before, she knew, but that there had been two arrests, and a series of other women, all public knowledge, made her question everything she knew about him. She had wanted to cry, but had refused out of pride, but by the end, she was angry. She bit her tongue to keep herself from using it, gripping the sides of the chair beneath her as tightly as she could. They didn’t have a right, was all she could think, to ask questions so wholly unrelated to the matter at hand.

At last, she refused to answer a question about Will that offended her so completely she was unable to maintain her schooled expression. She was sure her true opinion of it was evident on her face. And she sat and waited as they processed the paperwork, letting her sit in the small, brightly lit room until they were required to let her go. She took her belongings at the front desk and primly replaced her gloves. Castle was pacing in the hall looking as miserable as she felt.

“Oh, Kate,” his ashen face tried to brighten out of habit when he saw her. She was uncharacteristically silent when he put an arm around her, which should have cheered him but instead, made his heart hurt more. As he kissed her temple he murmured, “I’m sorry love. Was it awful?”

She shook her head once, “We won’t talk about it here. Let’s leave please, before they change their minds about letting us go.”

The car was waiting for them outside the precinct. He nodded to the driver and opened the door for her. He was holding her hand, about to help her inside when the crack of gunfire behind them sounded. They fell to the ground. Kate pulled at the open door to shield them. There were only four shots. The first shattered the glass window above them, showering them with chunks of broken glass. The other three were embedded in the leather of the seats, leaving gaping black holes in the upholstery. The driver was staring at the damage with a stunned look on his face.

Immediately, policemen began to pour from the building, looking up at the surrounding buildings to see where the bullets at come from and who they had been intended for. In the chaos, she felt Castle tugging at her hand.

“Are you all right?” someone in the assembling crowd called.

She looked around her, but no one among the blur of faces was familiar. She brushed glass from her hair and his shoulders as they all but ran. He led them down the first side street and slowed, pulling off his hat to shake free the last of their souvenirs. Then he looked down at her, hugged her tightly and confirmed the results of his visual inspection with his hands. He kissed her forehead. “You’re not hurt.”

She tried for humour, but the quip felt flat. “If I was, I’d have been complaining long before now.”

“Sorry,” he scuffed his shoe against the ground, hands still resting against her shoulders. “It provided a kind of distraction I couldn’t pass up. Having spent all day there I have no desire to dissect the thing for another few hours with our cities’ finest. We know who did it, or at least, the suspect pool is small - it was either Pulgatti or Senator Brown - and since we know that, I think our best bet is to lay low, at least until sundown.”

She nodded, still catching her breath. “Javier’s,” she said.

“What?”

“Javier’s, the bar, it’s in the basement and it won’t be open for a few hours. It’s only a few blocks over. We can wait out the search there, then send for Ryan. Your house would be better than my father’s. There’s more space in the back rooms and your mother is a better actress than Lanie. She’d never be able to lie if the police or worse came to the door.”

He nodded, “Brilliant. You’re brilliant.” He hugged her quickly, and they set off down the quiet street at a hurried pace. They reached the alley where Coonan had been shot in a few short minutes, and he set to work pounding on the door and hollering for Javier. The barkeeper’s flat overlooked the alley and his head appeared in the one, small window after several minutes.

“Castle,” he commanded, “Quit your hollering.”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Castle called from the street, “But we’re in a spot of bother. Can you let us in?”

“I don’t have much choice,” the head disappeared, but the voice carried through the open window. “You’ll kick down the door if I don’t.”

Javier appeared in the doorway seconds later. “Well come on then.”

Castle held out his hand for Kate to go in first, and inspected the alleyway left-to-right before closing the door behind him.

“What have you two been up to now?” he was dressed in the slacks and undershirt he had been wearing the previous night. His hair was sleep-ruffled. A bottle of proper whiskey was already on the bar top. He popped the cork out and poured two glasses. Castle took one and downed it like a man in a desert. “You haven’t heard from Ryan?”

“I was doing stock until 6 in the morning,” Javier held out the other glass for Kate but she shook her head. He shrugged and sipped it himself. “Give us the goods.”

“It was the bulls. It seems someone’s been talking about how Dick Coonan ended up dead and they wanted to ask us a few questions, which in and of itself was an inconvenience, but as we were leaving the station, someone took a few shots at us.”

“Poorly aimed shots by the looks of things,” Javier inspected them both for damage.

“We thought we’d keep our heads down for the rest of the day,” Kate told him, “Here, if that’s all right with you.”

Lanie chose that moment to appear from the doorway beside the bar, fully dressed if not properly coiffed. Kate gave her a look, pleased to finally be able to pay her back for some of the teasing she’d endured over the years. “Lanie,” she said, feigning surprise.

“I had the day off,” Lanie put one hand on her hip, daring her friend to challenge her.

“I’m sure you did,” Kate smiled pleasantly.

“Anyway, what’s this I hear about you and your boy over there getting shot at?” Lanie put an arm around her and led her over to a table where they could talk, out of earshot from the men.

Castle took the liberty of pouring himself another whiskey.

“Hell of a day you’ve had,” Javier raised his own glass in a toast. “Heck, more like hell of a week.”

“Hell of a year,” he inhaled from his glass, “I almost can’t remember how it started.”

Javier smirked and began wiping glasses from the pile beneath the bar. “You got your head turned by a pretty lady. That’s how things always start with you.”

Castle slumped into a stool and stared at the amber liquid in his glass forlornly, “Don’t remind me. They read her my record. I’m still half-afraid that when she’s had time to process it all she’ll never speak to me again. And given how long they hassled me about Gina, I’m pretty sure she knows about that as well. And that’s the best of it, really.”

“Castle, I’ve met scoundrels and killers and thieves. You’re not cut from that cloth, and she knows it. And she’s not naïve. She must have known there were others.”

“Well it’s one thing to know it and it’s another thing to have it all laid out in front of you. And Javi,” he twisted the glass in his hands, “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“You better go easy on the hooch my friend,” Javier teased, “You’ll be sobbing into it by five o’clock.” They were silent for a moment until the bartender said, “Far as I can see, you love that girl more patiently and more honestly than you loved any of the others, and I’ve seen you with a lotta girls.”

“That’s true,” the ghost of sly grin appeared above Castle’s whiskey, but then his expression was serious again, and his tone matched it. “All of it’s true.”

“Ricky,” he slung his towel over his shoulder and leant across the bar to clap Castle on the shoulder, “You go tell her that and she’ll forget whatever she heard.”

Castle rubbed his face with his hand, “Would that it were true.”

“On the other hand, you keep sulking around my bar and I’ll think of something really awful that the police don’t know about to tell her.”

“You do that and I’m sure there’s any number of incidents that Lanie would just love to hear about. And I’m told I tell a good story.”

“Yeah, but that’s the difference between my girl and yours,” the bartender was already ducking behind the bar as a handful of ice from his ice bucket came hailing down on his head, “Mine’s got a sense of humour about breaking the law.”

“What are you boys doing over here?” Lanie drawled, leaning her elbow on the bar beside Castle. “Javi baby, give us a couple of drinks. I know it’s only four in the afternoon but gunshots aimed at you or your friends earn you a free pass in my book. And yours too, obviously,” she patted Castle’s shoulder. “Thank you for looking after my girl.”

“Not sure who was looking after whom Lanie,” he told her honestly, “But you’re welcome.”

“What are you two going to do now?” she asked.

“To be honest,” he considered his words carefully. “I know she’s not going to like it, but I’m not sure there’s anything else to do. We don’t have the power or influence that the Senator does. Either Pulgatti is gunning for us, or they both are. I think … we have to leave the city.”

“You’re right,” Lanie took a sip of Javier’s latest concoction. It was gin based and tart, and tasted heavily of maraschino cherries. “On all counts. She’ll hate the idea and yet, it’s the best one I can come up with. I just don’t see how Mrs Beckett’s murder is worth either of your lives. I’m sure her father would agree with me.”

“Really?” Castle was suddenly struck with inspiration. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pen and small notepad. “Lanie, would you be a dear and take him a letter from me? Quick, I’ll write it now and leave it with Javier at the bar. When we leave, could you run it over?”

“Yes, of course,” Lanie nodded, taking the second drink Javier had just placed on the bar in her other hand. “And baby, these are delicious.”

The bartender grinned. “Only the best for you.”

Castle made a face. “I can’t bear to listen to it.”

“Oh hush. I’m sure you’re much worse when you get going,” Javier teased. “All flowery prose, dripping with sentimentality.”

“Not likely. She’d laugh at me. Or worse.”

Lanie came back to the bar for two more rounds before she and Kate were done with their conversation. It had turned from the serious matter of the attempted shooting and the investigation to the far less serious matter of Lanie spending her days off in Javier Esposito's bed.

"Oh don't fuss at me Katie," she smirked in the face of her friend's conveniently newfound principles. "Just because Castle has you home every night by eleven doesn't mean you're not fooling around. I've seen the two of you necking in the hall when you think your father is asleep."

"Lanie! Don't spy on me!"

"It’s payback for you tattling to my mother about Sam Johnson when we were kids,” Lanie told her, “It's cute though, the way he carries on like a kid himself around your father. I think it’s because he likes you,” she said in a mock whisper.

Kate rolled her eyes. “He’s convinced he does.”

“And you’re not?” her friend nudged her shoe under the table when her face fell to studiously study her drink, “You can’t be serious Kate. He worships you. I could see it a mile off, the very first time I met him.”

“Sex isn’t the same as love Lanie,” she ran her fingers along a groove in the wood. Javier hadn’t yet put out the table cloths.

“No, it’s not,” Lanie agreed, “But he loved you for a long time before he ever did a thing about it.”

She sighed, trying not to sound morose. “I feel as though I don’t know anything anymore. I’m unsure of everything.” Her friend’s gaze was quizzical, so she elaborated. “I never thought my mother would die. And when she did, I always assumed that my mother’s killer would be brought to justice, but now that seems unlikely. When I married Will, I thought …” she searched for words, “Well I didn’t expect this.”

“Is it a bad thing though? That your life took a course you didn’t expect?”

“I suppose it’s not,” she ran a finger down the side of her glass, “At the police station today, I learned some interesting things about Castle.”

Lanie let her talk in her own time. After years of practice, she knew it was the best way to learn her secrets.

“I suppose it’s not exactly surprising that there have been others, other women. It was the way they said it though; like I was unrespectable because of it, because he’s been out with showgirls and actresses and girls with reputations, like I was doing something wrong,” she sighed. “And maybe I am. You’re not supposed to get divorced. You’re not supposed to … well. It didn’t suddenly come from nothing when I left Will. I like to say it did. But it didn’t. I mean, nothing happened except we kissed once, in May,” she trailed off, “I was so determined not to let them get to me Lanie. I’m mad at myself because they did.”

Lanie reached over and squeezed her hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You know that.”

“I know. I just… don’t you worry? With Javier, aren't you worried about having a baby?”

Lanie laughed, "Not worried exactly. But we're careful. And if we do, we’ll get married."

She sighed, “I wish it was that simple.”

“Well people aren’t shooting at Javi and I,” her tone was admonishing. “Honey, you have to be careful. Ryan thinks you should run, and quickly.”

“I’m not ready yet,” she was feeling slightly cheered after the alcohol and the conversation with her friend.

Lanie disappeared to the bar to refill their drinks yet again. By the end of the glass, she was smiling and Javier’s was starting to fill with patrons. Castle appeared at her elbow. “We should get going. Javier sent Ryan for the car. He’ll meet us out back in a few minutes.”

She took his hand and spun herself around beneath it, then sighed. “I actually feel like staying tonight. But before you say it, I know we can’t. Come on then.”

“What did you and Lanie talk about?” he asked, his hand wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the Autumn chill. The days had grown shorter and it was already dark despite the early hour. He leant his head against hers.

She fisted her hand in his sleeve and slid one arm around his waist, a mischievous grin on her face as she looked up at him. Her finger jabbed at his chest. “The criminals we keep as company. You sir have quite the record.”

“It wasn’t that long,” he protested, meekly.

“Stealing a police horse?”

“Borrowing.”

“Naked?”

“I had my socks on.”

“Dare I ask?”

“I think we’d both prefer it if you didn’t.”

“And they had another interesting list,” she continued, breezily. “Of women. That one was long.”

“Kate.”

She could be mean when her tongue was loosened with liquor.

“No, no, it’s ok. I suppose we’ve both been married and I’m not an idiot. I knew there must have been others. I just didn’t really expect to have a police detective read me the list and compare me to each and every one. I particularly liked the one they called ‘serious’. A showgirl, they said, who offered extra services.”

“Oh honey. I’m sorry. Believe me, there’s no comparison. And that was a misunderstanding. Gina never … took any money. It wasn’t much better for me I’m afraid. They definitely reminded me of some past mistakes that I’m not very proud of.”

She sighed. “Is that what this is, what it will be?”

“No,” he was petting her hair. He’d made a habit of it lately. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I was called an adulteress and a quiff this afternoon and informed that my… ” best friend, boyfriend, lover, “Partner has been arrested on two separate occasions, and in between times has managed to run through most of the single women in Manhattan.”

“I told you I wasn’t proud of it. But you’re different. You challenge me and inspire me and there’s never been anyone that came close. Not even Meredith. You’re extraordinary. And I do love you. Please, don’t let it trouble you.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve got more important things to worry about,” she said meaningfully, hugging him closer and resting her head against the hollow his shoulder for a second before pulling away. When Ryan pulled up, they were standing just out of each other’s reach and in silence. The police detective looked over the seats at the pair of them when they clambered into the vehicle. “You both look miserable,” he declared. “I heard what happened but usually bullets just encourage you two.”

“Well,” Castle studied the passing cityscape, “These bullets were a little too close for comfort.”

“Aye,” Ryan nodded, “In my professional opinion it’s time you both ran. Go somewhere quiet and far away from New York.”

“But we’re so close,” Kate spoke, tearing her gaze away from the window to stare at the back of Ryan’s head. “We can’t give up now.”

“No shame in knowing when yer licked,” Ryan advised them sagely. “Besides, these gangsters, they’ve got their own way of making things right. You can trust Pulgatti will take care of things in your stead.”

He dropped them in the small lane beside Castle’s house. There was a barely-used door that led to the laundry just off the kitchen. Martha was waiting to let them in when they knocked. She was smiling, customarily, but her forehead was creased with worry. She hugged her son fiercely when the door was safely fastened behind all three of them. Ryan tipped his hat to her as he removed it. “Martha,” he grinned, “You look lovelier every day.”

“Oh stop it,” she slapped at his arm. “Don’t think you can distract me from the fact that my son was shot at this afternoon. Oh Richard. You’ll be the death of me.”

“Mother,” he patted her hand, “You’d be half as worried if you were half as dramatic. Kate and I are both fine.”

“That’s not to say it’s not a dire situation ma’am,” Ryan interjected. “Some pretty serious bad folk have taken an interest in the pair of them. It’s my opinion that remaining in the city is unsafe.”

“Richard, listen to your friend.”

“Well,” he caught Kate’s steady gaze over his mother’s shoulder. “That’s something we need to discuss.”

Ryan stayed for several hours, analysing the details of their interview with the police. He was convinced they were reaching. The interrogative approach made little sense otherwise. Still, he advised caution; sometimes if enough money was changing hands, “evidence” could be found long after it was physically likely. Castle was willing to bet money that it wouldn’t be long until such evidence was produced, and in that event, it was likely they’d both be arrested. Ryan also provided useful information about crossing the Canadian border, how it might be achieved and what they would need to organise or buy. He left just after ten. Martha had already bid them goodnight.

When Castle closed the front door behind the policeman, he re-joined Kate in his kitchen. Then the real debate began. They discussed their options, smoking in the dim light of a candle. The curtains were drawn to hide the light in case they were being watched. His hand grasped hers with an intensity that ached after a while. She didn’t notice though; her mind was on other things.

“I don’t think they’ll come after our friends and families,” she whispered. Talking aloud seemed too conspicuous in the quiet house, and besides, Alexis and Martha were asleep directly above them. “The only reason I can see to do that is to draw us out, and this man wants to stay invisible. You’re known in this town and it would get people talking, which, given his past crimes, is the last thing he wants.”

“Maybe,” he said quietly, “But I’ve already organised for Ryan to buy them two tickets to Paris in the morning. Mother is always raving about Paris and the creative scene there and it’ll give Alexis a chance to improve her French. If we leave, they can’t come with us,” it was a statement, but she could hear the slightest hint of the pain it caused him. “And I don’t want to leave them in the city alone.”

“Maybe we could visit them,” she said to soothe him. She let her cigarette burn to ash in the ash tray and reached out to smooth the hair at the back of his neck. “In a little while, when things have settled here in the city.”

“Maybe,” he echoed, letting his head rest on his hand for a moment. He didn’t say it, but she could hear it in his silence, that might be a long time. There was nothing for it, no words she could use as a salve, so she tightened her grip on his fingers and nudged his shoulder. It hurt her to see him so torn; he loved his daughter, she knew, and her heart ached for him. She knew, rationally, that she had never asked it of him and in fact, most of the time, she found him intrusive. In that moment though, the anger faded into guilt; she should never have let him become so entwined in her personal battle. She almost apologised, again, for not having more foresight.

“We need to leave Kate, as soon as possible. We should go to Pulgatti for protection and ask for his help getting over the border. I know some people in Canada, some enterprising friends of Javier’s. They can help us once we get there.”

“I’m not done with this,” she argued, “We’re so close. With a little more time we could take the case to Ryan and the police… just, a little more time Castle.”

Castle shook his head, “He knows we’re after him. At Coney Island, the man who was shooting at us saw us. He must have recognised one of us and tipped off his boss. Those shots earlier weren’t a warning; we’re just lucky he sent a thug with such poor aim.”

“So you’re saying we give up?” the look she gave him made it clear just what she thought of that particular option. “She was my mother Castle.”

“He’ll kill you Kate, just like he’s killed anyone else who stood in his way. And you’re too important to me to let that happen. There are other ways. Let Pulgatti handle this.”

“Death is too good for him,” she violently snubbed out the butt of the cigarette, two times more than was necessary. “I want him to have to live with it. I want his life to come apart at the seams and for him to have to try to piece it back together. That’s justice. Killing him makes it too quick, too easy for him. And it reduces me to his level.”

“Shh,” he warned, “You’ll wake mother and Alexis. And justice isn’t worth your life Kate, nothing is. I won’t let you do it.”

She jerked her hand free, “The hell you won’t. You don’t own me Castle. We’re not married. We’re not even …” she pushed her chair back and paced the room, “A few nights in my bed does not give you the right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

With an angry passion that surprised them both, he stalked over to her and took both her hands at the wrists, holding them against her chest. She was half-terrified by the look he gave her, eyes burning in the dim lighting. She stepped backwards until she was trapped against the sink, trying to school her traitorous limbs that had begun to tremble slightly, though whether it was fear or anticipation she didn’t know.

He kissed her, teeth scraping her lower lip and hands running through her curls, pulling the pins from her hair. They clattered against the counter until the length of her hair was spilling over her shoulders. He tugged at it until their mouths crashed together more violently. Her hands were on his face, fingers slipping along his hairline. His hands found their way beneath her dress, tugging down at her bloomers, nails catching against her stockings.

He lifted her easily, and her skirt hitched as he did. He set her down on the counter and lifted it up, over her head. It fell to the floor with the clatter of beads.

She let her head fall to one side, granting him access to her neck. His usually gentle ministrations were rougher, more likely to bruise than usual. She dug her fingernails into his arms, tugging at his ear with her teeth.

This was possessive, on both their parts. She pulled his shirt from his slacks and began wrestling with his belt until he stopped her with his hands, making quicker work of it himself while she pulled her dress over her head.

She was still wearing her shoes, and when she wrapped her legs around him they dug into his lower back. She pressed them into him in encouragement. His hands found her breasts, kneading them beneath his palms. She leant back on her hands, pulling him closer with her crossed legs.

“Now,” she pleaded, panting softly, “Please now.”

He teased her, pushing into her just barely and stopping. She sunk her teeth into his lip in response. His body confused the pain for desire. He pressed into her roughly, holding her steady at the hips with a hand, digging his fingernails into her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grip pinching at his shoulders. She keened into his mouth as he slammed into her again and again. Their foreheads collided roughly. He pressed a thumb against her clit between them, the movement of their bodies forcing it against her. With his other hand, he covered her mouth to silence her crescendoing whimpers of pleasure. Her teeth sank into his hand when she came, and her whole body was shaking. He felt it shoot through him, felt her nails raking at his back and the wet heat of her and thrust forward, letting his head fall into hers, his anger draining out of him with his release. It stung between her legs, but she held him there with her crossed feet, hands reaching out to stroke his cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he whispered, placing tiny kisses along her hairline.

“You didn’t,” she whispered back. “Or I wanted you to. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

He realised his hand was starting to ache where she had bit down on it. “It’s ok,” he stroked his hand along her hair, smoothing it where he had yanked at it.

He stepped backwards and buttoned his pants, leaving his shirt unbuttoned. He stooped and swept up the dress and slip she had flung halfway across the room, handing them to her as she debated whether her legs were still too shaky to stand. She thanked him, quietly, but before she could dress he reached out and picked at the chain she wore around her neck.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” he held her mother’s ring in an open palm; the chain stretched out from between her breasts. “I know I can’t. But I can ask you not to do this, to be realistic, to stay with me. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, staring at the ring in his hand. She looked up and pressed her hand to his cheek, “I can’t.”

--