When Kate Shot Rick

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I own none of this, as if you didn't know. Rating: K Time: Sometime in late season one. More or less. Thereabouts. Sort of.

Castle shook his head. "No, she did not."

There was a moment of shocked silence followed by pandemonium as everyone in the room began speaking at once. It took a minute or two of bellowing for Deputy Chief Randall to quiet the room.

"Mr. Castle, we just heard Detective Beckett admit to shooting you."

Castle nodded. "And I believe that Detective Beckett truly believes she did shoot me, but she didn't. May I explain?"

"Please do."

"If you'll bear with me for a moment, I did a little research on the thunderstorm that night. While I'm not a qualified meteorologist, my investigation leads me to believe that up to a dozen lightning bolts hit the wharf next to the warehouse almost simultaneously, bathing the warehouse in bright light for from three to five seconds, or possibly longer. When I saw McManus about to shoot Detective Beckett, I pushed her down. As you will do in that situation, I looked down to see where and how we would land. I saw my left thumb slip into the trigger guard of Detective Beckett's pistol. When we hit the ground, her pistol stopped but my thumb kept moving. My thumb pushed the trigger back and the gun fired. The light disappeared after I was shot."

"Your testimony is that you accidentally shot yourself with Detective Beckett's pistol?" Randall asked.

"Exactly." Castle replied.

Randall, Gates and Mangano turned away and huddled briefly, their voices too low to be heard by anyone else. Finally, they turned around again.

"We see no reason to call further witnesses or review the forensic evidence, since none of it could contradict Mr. Castle's testimony. Detective Katherine Beckett, as we have found that you did not fire the shot in question, you are exonerated for that. However, there is still the matter of you issuing a threat of bodily harm to a member of the public, to wit, Mr. Richard Castle. Therefore, a Letter of Admonishment will be placed in your official police personnel file. However, based on your exemplary record, the letter will be removed in one year as long as you conduct yourself in a professional and polite manner to all members of the public, and most specifically with Mr. Castle. That is all."

As a sigh of relief went through the room, Castle stood up.

"Deputy Chief Randall, if I may? There has been a great deal of unfavorable publicity because of this incident. I've arranged for a press conference at Le Bonne Chance Club here in Manhattan to set the record straight."

"That's very generous of you, Mr. Castle."

Castle went on. "I think it would be best if Detective Beckett accompanied me."

Kate shot to her feet. "Sir, Le Bonne Chance Club is the most expensive and exclusive club in New York. I have nothing to wear to such a place."

"You sound like my wife, Detective." Randall shot back.

"I know that Detective Beckett has several pants suits that she can wear." Castle said. "She'll certainly be better dressed than any of the reporters."

"Detective Beckett, you will accompany Mr. Castle to the press conference. That's an order."

"I'll pick you up at eight o'clock. Beckett." Castle said and walked out.

Kate Beckett glared at her image in her mirror. I do not want to go to Le Bonne Chance tonight. I do not want to go to Le Bonne Chance tonight with Castle. I do not want to go to Le Bonne Chance tonight with Castle for a press conference. She growled at her image and stamped out of her bathroom. She pulled off her jacket and the black turtleneck she had on, then looked down at her plain white, cotton bra. She pulled that off and took her very best bra out of her underwear drawer. It was soft black silk with lace trim. Over it, she put on a sheer silk blouse. She looked at herself in the mirror. Castle can look all he wants, but he can't touch. She thought. Then she went to her jewelry box and took out the only good piece she had, a pearl necklace that had belonged to her grandmother.

Exactly at eight o'clock there was a knock on her door. It was Castle, dressed in a blue suit and an open necked maroon shirt.

He smiled and then whistled. "You are absolutely gorgeous, Beckett. The black pantsuit is perfect for you and the pearls add a nice touch. And, you have on your trademark stiletto heels. You're going to knock them dead."

Kate blushed slightly. "Can we go now?"

When they got to the street, Kate came to an abrupt stop.

"Is this what you got to take us to the club?"

"Yes. Is there something wrong with it?"

"Castle, it's a Rolls-Royce. With a uniformed chauffer?"

"Would you have preferred a Bentley?" Castle asked, a bit nervously.

"I've never ridden in any kind of limo, let alone a Rolls-Royce."

Castle smiled and gestured to the chauffer to open the rear door. "Everyone should ride in a Rolls-Royce at least once. And you, Detective Beckett, should ride in one all of the time."

Kate had no idea how to respond to that, so she just got in the car.

Once at Le Bonne Chance, they found the reporters were a bit restless. For some reason, the hors d'oeuvres had not been served and much more importantly, the open bar was not open. There wasn't even a bartender around. Rick hurried to correct that oversight, and then introduced Kate to the assembled reporters.

"This is my partner and my muse, Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. Some of you may have run across her in your daily work, but I can assure you that she is the finest homicide detective in the city, perhaps in the whole country. Let me tell you a bit about the remarkable Detective Kate Beckett…."

Castle went on to praise Kate to the skies. He was only interrupted when the hors d'oeuvres and the portable bar and bartender arrived. As the reporters headed for the free food and drink, Kate leaned in to whisper in Rick's ear.

"Castle, you're going way overboard introducing me. Don't you remember, you broke the case by figuring the nanny took too long to go up in the elevator."

Castle did his best to look puzzled. "I did? Well, you would have figured it out in no time."

"You're making me sound like Superwoman or something."

Rick whispered back. "I have a confession to make, Beckett. I peeked at you in the locker room once when you were changing. I saw the big S on that blue shirt you wear."

Kate glared at him.

"And you shouldn't do so much leaping over tall buildings with a single bound."

Before Kate could say a word in reply, the reporters drifted back, hands full of food and drink.

Castle stepped forward. "Now let me tell you the true story of what happened when the killer Mick McManus was brought down."

As Kate expected, Castle's version of the shooting gave far too much credit to her and not enough to everyone else, including Castle, who had certainly saved her life.

When Castle was done, he asked for questions. Most were attempts to get clarification for things Castle had already said. Then came the question Kate had been dreading.

"Are you two involved romantically?"

Castle answered at once. "No, not at all. Our relationship is purely professional." That brought some giggles. "Not that kind of professional." He added quickly.

A grandmotherly looking columnist from the Ledger said, in a stage whisper, "Is she blind or just dumb?"

When there were no more questions, Castle suggested they take one more pass at the bar and then leave.

When the last reporter left, Kate breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you so very much, Castle. I really appreciate all that you've done for me. Thanks again, but now I really have to go."

"I was going to have dinner here and hoped you'd join me." He offered.

"Thanks, but no thanks." She said with a smile.

"You know none of them believed that we're not romantically involved. I'll bet they're all waiting for you outside." Castle checked his watch. "And the Broadway and other shows are just starting to get out. It'll take you forever to get a cab."

Kate peeked out the front windows of the club. Sure enough, there was a cluster of reporters on the sidewalk.

"Is there a back entrance I can use?"

"Sure, but there have been enough scandals involving Le Bonne Chance Club and its members that the reporters know all the exits. Come on, Beckett, you could use a good meal for once and not have to eat those sandwiches from the machine in the break room."

Kate sighed and took Castle's offered arm.

Once seated, Kate got another shock. "Castle, I need to see your menu. Mine doesn't list any prices."

Rick held up his menu for her to see. "Neither does mine. Le Bonne Chance Club operates on the principal that if it's members want a dish, they can afford it."

Kate scanned her menu. "I'm sure I can figure out what the cheapest meal is. Perhaps I'll just have a salad."

"A salad?" Castle said with some distaste. "You don't go to Le Bonne Chance Club for a salad." He turned away. "James."

As if by magic a waiter materialized by their table. "Yes, sir."

"The lady and I will have the surf and turf. I assume the filets are Kobe beef?"

James managed to look slightly shocked. "Of course, sir."

"And the lobsters?"

"We have both Maine lobsters and Australian, sir."

He thought for a moment. "We'll have the Australian, then."

"And to drink, sir. Your usual?"

"Yes, the Glenlivet 12-year old."

"And for the lady?"

"Castle, I'm on duty and have my sidearm. I can't have any alcohol."

"Perhaps some orange juice, Ma'am?" James suggested.

"Is it from Florida?" Beckett asked sarcastically.

"We also have oranges from California, and of course, they're freshly squeezed."

"Florida oranges will be fine."

When James had left, Castle leaned over to her. "You really should have told him that you only drink orange juice made from Spanish oranges."

Kate had to admit that the meal, even the orange juice, was the best that she'd ever had. Not that she'd admit that to Castle, of course.

When they finally left the club there were still several reporters hanging around, but Castle got her into the Rolls before they could even snap a photo.

"Castle, I need to apologize to you."

"Nonsense, Beckett. You didn't shoot me, remember?"

"No, but this morning I accused you of orchestrating those embarrassing news stories about me. I should have known that you'd never do anything like that to me. I was so upset at the possibility of losing my detective's shield and possibly getting fired that I just wasn't thinking straight. I'm very, very sorry for getting angry at you. I should have known better."

"No problem, Beckett. All's well that ends well. I didn't know about those stories until this morning. Mother was so upset about what happened that she wouldn't allow the TV news to be on or for any newspapers to come into the loft. As soon as I found out about those stories, I scrambled to set up the news conference. I hope you know that I would never, ever hurt you like that."

"I do. Thank you for what you've done for me."

After that, they settled back for a ride to her apartment in comfortable silence.

Castle got out of the car as she did.

"You don't have to walk me to my door, Castle."

"Of course, I do. It's what a gentleman does for a lady."

Kate was a little afraid he'd want a good night kiss, or ask if he could come in, but he just shook her hand and said good night. But as he walked away, she called to him.

"Castle."

He turned around. "Yes?"

"There are some things that you should know. Unlike the people on the shooting team, I was there at the warehouse that night. And, unlike them, I haven't been riding a desk at One PP for decades. "

"So?" He asked, curiously.

"There was one lightning bolt and it lasted for no more than a second. Also, when it's pitch-black like that, the pupils of your eyes dilate so you can take in as much light as possible to allow you to see as well as possible. Then, when there's a flash of light, your eyes are dazzled and you can't see for a while. Lastly, I know where my trigger finger was that night when you pushed me down. It was on the trigger of my Glock, and your thumb was nowhere near there."

"Why Detective Beckett. Are you accusing me of lying to an official NYPD investigation to protect you?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"I'd say that's very professional of you, but not very polite. Tomorrow, Beckett?"

"Tomorrow, Castle."

The End

Author's note: This last chapter of When Kate Shot Rick is being posted from Tombstone, Arizona, the town too tough to die. And it's given me an idea for another Castle story.