fanofthegenre: (apartment.)
Kate Beckett ([personal profile] fanofthegenre) wrote2010-01-29 11:59 pm
Entry tags:

[ a missing scene ]

Coonan dies on the floor of the precinct, his blood pooling out around him.

Beckett doesn't stay long after the body's taken away - just long enough to answer the necessary questions, fill in the details for the official report herself, give the information that proves a discharging of her weapon was necessary. She doesn't look at Castle for the rest of the night, and somewhere in the cluster of policemen and EMTs, he disappears, leaving the chaos behind him.

She heads back to her apartment - late, much later than she'd even anticipated, but she's far from tired and her hands are still stinging from the amount of time she'd spent rinsing them in the women's restroom hours before. She pours herself a drink and starts running the water in the bathtub, ready to soak and hopefully drink enough to pass out eventually.

Because otherwise, she's going to have an impossible time sleeping tonight.

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-30 07:04 pm (UTC)(link)
He sits still and lets her straighten -- not that either of them should be coordinating anything more complex than this -- with his attention resting comfortably on the pale-lit curves of her face. His fists sit like stones at the bottoms of his pockets.

"This is New York," he replies. "You want heat, you go to Arizona. Of course, if you want scorpions hiding in your shoes, you also go to Arizona."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-30 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
When she leans in to kiss his cheek, Castle catches the faint stamp of gunpowder. He knows she must've washed her hands at least twenty times at the precinct, but the smell stains skin and it brings it all back to him in a hard, smoky memory. Castle hasn't had to do many brave things in his life, so when he sees them in other people, it's a sobering reminder of his own shortcomings. Beckett might be the bravest person he knows.

He slides his elbow from her grip and wraps both arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," he says.

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-30 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
He hears 'don't know' and 'nightmare' and that's about the gist of it all while her cheek is pressed into the collar of his coat like she's trying to burrow straight through him. He's a little surprised by the strength in her arms; they curl around his waist like two sturdy branches.

"You showed more courage today than anybody I've ever seen," he tells her, passing his hand over her back. "I can't say that the nightmares will ever stop. Can't say anything, really. But I'm going to be there for you whenever you need me. I promise."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-30 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"You don't have to," he tells her quietly. 'Corner of his mouth perks, then settles into something more genuine than his near-forty years of pretending would suggest. "We're partners. I know you'd do the same for me."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-30 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
He recognizes the change and it's like falling. Like they'd both been trying to make the leap from one side of a canyon to the other and had just barely scratched the far side with their fingernails before they fell short. He's sad for a reason he cannot define.

"I know you'd hate it if you thought I was checking up on you," he says. "Figured I'd have more luck if I brought some incentive along." He means the bottle of whiskey, of course, but somehow thinking that he could ply her with alcohol to get her to open up about what happened seems...what, manipulative? Dishonest? He hadn't meant to be. Hell, he likes to think that she knows him well enough by now to trust him not to play the authorial angle.

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-31 03:14 am (UTC)(link)
Castle's stomach is now halfway up his chest, getting chummy with his heart. He can't have heard that right. Beckett wouldn't have memorized the love scene in Heat Wave, would she? There's fan devotion and then there's fan devotion. She knew it right down to the page and all of a sudden Castle's wishing he had kept his coat off because the whole room is starting to swelter.

He manages a grin, quick and tight, his eyebrows rucking toward his hairline. "In the business, we call that 'poetic license'," he says, unable to resist the temptation to goad her on a little bit. "You did a lot of cool cop stuff in the book, too."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-31 05:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"Sensationalism sells," he counters, repeating his publisher's oft-used maxim while a smile creeps across his face. 'Smile on Castle is either cloying or crocodilian. He's trying to find a middle ground in there for Beckett.

"Besides, I can't help it if you're..." he jumps his eyebrows toward his hairline "...sensational."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-01-31 08:00 pm (UTC)(link)
"Only the ones who come with a six-figure advance for the next book." He's teasing her. It might not be fair given the fact that she's just loaded herself half full of whiskey, but Castle is Castle and this is now a creature like Castle flirts.

Wait -- is that what he's doing?

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
"You carry a firearm," he points out (although she's clearly not packing heat now -- not with the drawstring sweats and camisole). "I think I'll pick my battles."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
He watches her thread his scarf through her fingers, brain stuck in a skipping record rut where the only thing he can actually process for a second is Tuh-tuh-tuh and so on. He finally rallies his sangfroid and passes on one of those Rick Castle grins. 'Kind that used to charm nuns.

"Off the record?" he asks, consulting the ceiling. "Not at all." A beat. "A little."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 04:46 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, you've got the pointy shoes," he says, pointing to her (now bare) feet. "And the elbow thing." He tucks his fist into his palm and mimes jacking a suspect in the jaw, albeit at a much slower (okay, a writer's pace). "Please, do me a favour: just tell me you're going to use your powers for good instead of evil. But if it is evil, at least let me tag along."

[identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com 2010-02-01 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
His eyes widen in faux surprise. He gapes theatrically for a few seconds, then begins to laugh. "I do believe we've had a breakthrough tonight! Here, let's celebrate --" he reaches for the bottle in her other hand and knocks back a heathy swallow. 'Brings some colour to his cheeks. God, how long has it been since he's had a stiff drink? It's hitting him harder than usual.