Rick

The bar had ambiance. It wasn't a place to go to get drunk, to drown your memories. It wasn't a place to temporarily dispel loneliness in the arms of a stranger. It had ambiance. It had started life as a dive, had evolved upward to a "cop" bar, and, finally, in the hands of its current owner, it had become a place where people could go to relax, surrounded by rich paneling, polished brasswork, and dim, though not gloomy, lighting; where people could sip and enjoy excellent liquor, fine wines, and superior microbrews. There was even a kitchen where a limited, though superb, menu was prepared. It was pricy, though not so pricy that it excluded those of moderate income who wanted to, on rare occasions, celebrate a special event. It was called "The Old Haunt".

In a booth towards the back of the bar, a lone man sat nursing a glass of excellent single malt and staring bleakly into the distance. If you looked, you would notice that he was, as he had, himself, once said, a "ruggedly handsome" man in early middle age: a tall man, strongly built, though getting a bit soft around the middle. There were some women, actually a great many, who found him more than attractive. He wasn't particularly concerned about those women. He was concerned about one woman, the only woman, really, that he really wanted to find him attractive – his wife.

His wife, who had, inexplicably, left him after not quite a year of marriage; a time that he had thought was happy for both of them. Her rationalization, that she had wanted to protect him and his mother and daughter from some sort of trouble that she was getting into, didn't ring true. He had asked for an explanation. She had evaded his questions, leaving him hurt and unsatisfied. So, he sat in his bar, the bar that he owned, and reflected.

Chemistry, he thought, that's the problem. They had chemistry. They'd had it from the very beginning; from the moment he'd started shadowing her at work, as part of the research for his new series of novels. But chemistry wasn't always good, sometimes the results were toxic. He'd had chemistry with his first two wives and it had fizzled with both of them (was that, he wondered, a good chemical word – fizzled like an experiment that was supposed to explode but only sputtered and died?). At least with Meredith something good had happened, probably the best thing that had ever happened to him, his daughter, Alexis. He'd kind of hoped that he and Kate would have a kid, boy or girl, it didn't matter, though he favored girls, especially strong-minded, willful, hyper-intelligent girls – like Alexis. Kate had said she was open to the possibility. Then she'd left.

What, he wondered, was wrong with him? He fell in love, married, and then it was over. To be fair, his first marriages had ended more because of him than because of them. But still, the only relationships he'd been able to maintain were few – his mother, his daughter, his publisher, Gina (who was also his second wife - they did work well together professionaly), Hayley, his employee at Castle Investigations, but never his wives, never women with whom he'd had a commitment. And Kate, Kate had really hurt him. She'd left. She'd hinted that she might come back, explained nothing, and left. It had been two months of little contact, unreturned calls, unanswered messages, evasions, avoidance, and outright lies: two months of unkept promises, broken dates, and hasty, unsatisfactory meetings that left nothing resolved, nothing answered. He'd gone to the Precinct where she was a Captain of detectives and been politely, but firmly, shown the door and told that the Captain was out and would get in touch with him "soon". He'd mailed her a note – snail mail – and asked her to meet him at the bar for their 1st anniversary celebration. The bar would be closed to the public. It would be the two of them, their friends, and family. She'd sent a note back saying she'd be there. But something had come up and she had failed to show. Lanie, Esposito, and Ryan, her co-workers, had shown up, but she had not. And still, no explanation. Even Lanie, her closest friend, had no explanation. The party broke up fairly soon, leaving booze undrunk, food uneaten, presents unopened, and a very broken-hearted Castle, who had retreated to the back booth with the single malt and was in the process of getting drunk.

His phone rang. When he saw that it was Kate, he felt torn. He wanted to talk to her, to find out what was going on, but he was afraid that if they did talk, it would just be more evasions and, possibly, outright lies. He was too drunk to listen to the truth and not drunk enough to hear any more lies and non-answers. He stared at her avatar for a long minute then, very gently, declined the call and turned the phone off.

He got up and went outside. The air was cool and damp and served to sober him up a bit, but not enough, he realized, to drive. He made sure the bar door was locked and checked that his car was locked and the alarm was on, then he went in search of a cab.

He woke the next morning, in bed alone, as had become usual, and in the loft alone: thoroughly hung over.

"Happy anniversary", he muttered, and staggered into the bathroom for a shower. The shower served the purpose of making him feel better, physically. Mentally and emotionally, though, he was a wreck. He forced himself to eat a bagel and drink some coffee, though he had no appetite.

The loft, he decided, was really too damned big for only one person.

Martha had, finally, gotten her own place. Alexis was in the process of moving to Boston, she'd been accepted to Harvard Law School.

And Kate had left.

He wandered into his study and sat at the desk. He leaned back in the chair, closed his eyes, and swiveled the chair back and forth, left to right, right to left, like a child. It was soothing and relaxing. He was having a hard time getting started with his day. He decided to check his phone, it would be something to accomplish. There were six calls from Kate, and three texts, none of which he read. There was a text from Alexis, asking how he was doing and telling him she would stop by and take him to lunch – something to look forward to. He texted her back – he was fine, he'd love to have lunch with her. 12:30 ok? He wondered if he should read the texts from Kate or delete them, he decided to ignore them for the time being.

He leaned back in the swivel chair and closed his eyes again. The next thing he knew, Alexis was next to him, shaking him. "Come on, dad, wake up".

"Hey, sweetheart. Wow, I must have been more tired than I thought. So, where do you want to go for lunch? Or would you like to order in or make something?"

"I've reserved a table at Dahlia's." Dahlia's was a favorite Middle Eastern eatery near The Old Haunt.

"Ah, well, that works. I left my car at the bar last night... or was it this morning... so I can pick it up when we finish. Let me find the keys."

Alexis dangled them in his face. "Already got you covered."

Alexis and Martha

Alexis was not happy: not happy with much of anything. Her father, who'd always been whimsical, playful and capricious, but fundamentally strong, sure and focused, was floundering. Her stepmother, who had, in spite of Alexis' reservations, had made her father happy, was absent without good reason, which was the core cause of her father's uncertainty. She, herself, usually assured and focused, had no idea where to go or what to do next. Of law school she was certain, but other than that, everything was in flux and she did not want to leave New York, even for a place only a few minutes away by air, until she was sure her father was in a better place. She had made the reservations at Dahlia's, not out of any clear plan, but just because it was doing something, anything, rather than dither. That was what was bothering her about all this; her father, who had told her on several occasions, that action was better than non-action, that doing something was better than doing nothing, was dithering. Her beloved whimsical, capricious, playful, strong, sure, and focused father was dithering.

They drove along in silence; Alexis deftly steering in and out of traffic at speeds that would ordinarily have her father putting on imaginary brakes and twitching. She glanced at her father, he was staring out the passenger side window, not really seeing anything. She had been relieved to see that, while he had been asleep in his desk chair when she arrived, he had gone to the trouble to take care of his grooming - showered, shaved, combed and dressed in clean, pressed, matching clothes. The business with Kate hadn't completely derailed him. It would be possible, she thought, to get him back in his zone. She allowed herself to smile.

The headwaitress led them to a table located in a pleasant corner, between a window with a view of a nicely landscaped Mediterranean-style courtyard and a pretty, small fountain - very much an idealilzed picture of the dining room of an upscale Middle Eastern home. Just as they were being seated, Martha Rodgers sashayed in, "Ah, there you are, darlings." She kissed them both on the cheek and allowed her son to seat her.

"Mother, I thought that this was just Alexis and me. She didn't tell me you were coming. Not that it would have made difference. I always look forward to time with my two favorite girls."

"Don't lie dear. I may be one of your favorite 'girls', but I doubt that you look forward to spending time with me all that much."

"Now that you've all moved out, the loft gets - oppressive. It's too big for just me. I've actually been entertaining the thought of selling it, or at least leasing it out and finding a smaller place. In any case, now that you're in your own place, I do miss you."

"To put not too fine a point on it, love, if Kate were there, where she belongs, you would miss me less."

"Gram.." Alexis tone was a warning.

"Oh, sorry, dear, I shouldn't have said that."

"No, Gram, it's ok. It's something we need to discuss, just not right now. Let's have lunch first. Dad, I think I'd like to order a hummus and pita chip appetizer, how about you?"

"I think I'd like baba ganoush along with the hummus, if that's ok. I'm starting to get just a bit hungry. Hey, why don't we make it an appetizer meal like we used to do - hummus, baba ganoush, pita chips and bread, raw veggies, goat cheese, dolmas, dates, figs, Morrocan tea ..." He trailed off.

"That sounds good, Dad, but you'd better eat, instead of just pushing things around on your plate trying to fool people."

Alexis poked the dolma on her plate with a fork, then mashed it and poked some more, covertly looking around to make sure that no one had seen how little she'd eaten. Ordinarily, she loved this food and would eat enough to get seriously lethargic, but it just had no taste today. The situation had stolen everyone's appetite. She tried to think of a way to broach the subject that Martha had briefly alluded to before lunch. What were they going to do about ... Kate. It was, she knew, primarily her father's problem, but still it affected all of them, even Lanie, Ryan, and Esposito, and it needed to be dealt with. Damage control was needed and she had no notion of how to get started. She glanced at her father, his face mirrored her thoughts. She decided to jump in - action, in this instance, was better than inaction.

"Dad, about this situation with Kate..."

"I know what you're going to say. At least I think I do. I can't control her, but I can control myself, and I need to take some action. I really have been thinking about it, and I have some ideas." Alexis gave him "the look", which he interpreted, correctly, to mean that he should shut up and listen.

"Dad, Maybe you do know what I'm going to say, but at least let me say it. You ... we have to be rational about this. We don't know what Kate's doing or why she's doing it. She's shut us out so we're going to have to use alternate means of finding out. I've already talked to Hayley ... I know, I know, I should have asked you, but you were kind of out of it ... and she's doing a background check on this Vikram Kate's "working" with. Meantime, you ... we have to figure out how we, personally,are going to proceed. I really don't want to leave here until I'm sure you're ok."

"Hmm, yes, having a PI license and my own agency is something we should use." He smiled rather grimly, "I hereby hire Castle Investigations to find out what the Hell my wife is up to and why she left. Shall I put that in writing?"

"Mm, no. Plausible deniability and all that."

"God, you sound like a lawyer already. Ok, that's one thing done. Next?"

"Dad, I know you hate doing nothing, but I think you should take a back seat to Hayley on this, you might, without meaning to, miss things that would make Kate look bad and we need to find out everything we can: no glossing over things because you might not like them."

"But I need to do something."

" I know. Oh, I'm going to move back in the loft with you, at least temporarily. You shouldn't be there alone. Anyway, you needing to do something. You can direct the investigation from the office, I'll come in with you and do admin stuff. We can move Kate's stuff into one of the unused bedrooms so you don't have to deal with it until we know where we stand with her. I don't think you should go out in the field on this, though I don't expect you to listen to me. Gram, if Kate is telling the truth about danger to us, it's not going to go away just because she went away, that's a really delusional idea on her part, so I think you should come back to the loft, too."

"Lex, maybe we should hire some 'muscle' to protect your grandmother when she's going to the theater or her school."

"Actually, not a bad idea. Maybe your friend Ethan would know someone."

"Or Jackson Hunt."

"Oh, darling, how do you propose finding him? He only shows up when he wants to and never leaves a forwarding address. Besides, I'm rather enjoying my little 'bachelorette pad'."

"Gram, this is serious, if we are in danger, we need to stay together as much as possible. And none of us should go anywhere alone."

"Yes, I know dear," Martha sighed heavily, "and always keep our phones charged and in reach and if we are home alone, don't answer the door unless we're expecting someone and know who it is. Alright, I surrender, I'll move back - but only until this ... nonsense ... is over."

"Dad?"

"Sweetheart, it feels like taking two steps back, but ok. I want you two to be safe. Or at least as safe as possible. And I don't know that Ethan Slaughter is the right person to ask, but I have some connections."

"Ok. Dad, I'll take you to your car: then I'll take Gram to her place and we'll grab some of her things and meet you back at the loft."

"What about your things?"

"Already packed and in the car."

"Tell you what, I'll follow you there. I don't want to sound paranoid, but I'm a bit more than worried about all this." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "How would you feel if I asked Hayley to stay with us? She's damned good at what she does and we have plenty of room. And that would take care of the 'muscle'."

"Dad, are we all going to go around in a foursome? That seems ... unwieldy."

He got in his car, "We'll talk about it at home. I'll call Hayley and ask her to meet us there."

Hayley

In spite of her attitude of gentle mockery, Hayley liked Castle and, for the most part, respected him. He was, in her opinion, slightly too susceptible to the women in his life, and she did use that to her advantage, but she also knew that if those women were remotely threatened, he could and would be a badass. And as civilian badasses went, he was one of the dangerous ones. So, when he called her she heard not only what he said, but how he said it, and treated the request as an order. She arrived at the loft at the same time they did.

While Alexis and Martha retreated to their rooms to get settled, he showed Hayley to one of the guest suites.

"So, you want me to stay here. Why?" She suspected she knew why, her research into Vikram's background, while not remotely complete, had revealed some unsettling information and she figured that, while they may not have that information, they knew something dangerous was afoot. She also guessed that Castle was asking her stay in order to protect Alexis and Martha from whatever was looming. She silently cursed Kate Beckett for a fool.

"As soon as Mom and Alexis are settled, we'll tell you. As soon as we've finished talking, you can go back to your place and pick up whatever you need"

She chuckled, "Not necessary, I always have a go-bag with me. It should hold me for a week or two. If it's any longer, you can buy me anything I might lack. When you've filled me in, I'll go to the car and get it."

Getting Hayley up to speed didn't take as much time as he thought, largely because she had already filled in most of the blanks. She and Rick "checked the perimeter" meaning they made sure all his security protocols were working and properly placed. She was quite impressed, for a dilettante he was quite knowledgeable and cutting edge. There were two security cameras placed at the entry - no one would notice them unless they actually knew they were there - and they could be remotely adjusted for angle and distance. There were additional cameras at other points of access - windows, fire escapes, external vents. There were few, if any, blind spots. There was also redundancy, she noted, if someone found the main cameras and disabled them, there were backups. Then, of course, there were the alarms, laser trip wires, the concierge (a retired cop), and a panic room. Rick had even managed to hook up a camera in the lobby. Provided they paid attention, there was no way they could be taken by surprise.

"Are you paranoid, Castle? I know politicians who have less security than this."

"No, originally it was part of my research for a Derrick Storm book. After I had it installed it just seemed wrong to uninstall it."

"You don't do things by halves, do you? Well, I suspect that, as long as you all stay in Fort Castle, no one will be able to harm you. But, you don't intend holing up here, do you? Life as usual?"

"Normal lives, as much as possible. I want you to stay with Mom and Alexis as much as possible. I'll be looking up a friend and, when I'm out and about, I'll see if I can hang with him."

"Your mother and daughter are going to require more than I can do. I'll need to bring in someone. Is that ok."

"Whatever you think, you're the expert."

"If you were truly to invoke my expertise, you'd very publicly disassociate yourself from Beckett, file for divorce, and make sure the press knows."

"That's an option I'm keeping open, if what she's doing is truly necessary, if there's a very good reason, if ... damn, there are too damn many ifs."

"Precisely."

"I'll consider it."

"I know you love her. And I'm sure, in her way, she loves you. The question is, does she love you enough? And, all things considered, is love enough?"

"That is the question, isn't it." He suddenly slumped, looking old and tired. "I'm not sure how long I'll be able to do this. She's never there. She makes dates and doesn't keep them. She makes promises and breaks them. She evades, she lies... . I'm her husband, I do have a right to know what's going on. Of all the things I love about her, her confidence, her pride, her competence, are the most attractive. But this is arrogance, this is, what did the Greeks call it? Hubris? At least it feels like that."

They adjourned to the great room, where Rick pulled out a bottle of his favorite single malt and poured himself a glass. He offered one to Hayley who accepted a small one, and then offered another to Alexis and Martha. They sat in silence for a time. Then Rick broke the silence. "Tomorrow, we have some things we need to do. Hayley, can you call that friend you were talking about?" She nodded. "Mom, Alexis I'd like you to come to the agency with me. We're going to need to go into investigative mode. I'll need to call Ethan Slaughter. With any kind of luck, he'll lhave gotten himself suspended and I'll be able to get him working with us." He paused, "I don't like to do it, but I'm going to call Ryan and Esposito and see if I can get them to come in and have a chat with us. If we can get their help, it wouldn't hurt."

"That sounds like a plan. Listen, I'm going to get my go-bag now. I'll get settled, then, maybe we should just chill and relax. This hasn't been a soothing 24 hours for any of us."

"I'll go down with you. When we get back, I want you to look at some texts on my phone. Kate sent them and I haven't read them yet. I think I was waiting for a less biased eye to see them."

The texts and a couple of voice mails were predictable. The usual 'please answer', 'please pick up', 'please let me explain', it was nothing unexpected and nothing reassuring. Hayley saw no more or less in it than he did. She did suggest that he respond, though.

It took a very long time to come up with an answer. He was, he thought, a professional writer, a wordsmith, a person who had perfected the art of the glib replies and polished responses, he should have, he thought, done it better, done it faster, been more polished. But, Hayley, reading it through, had said it was probably the best that could have been done because it wasn't polished and glib; it was real.

Kate, I don't want explanations, I want the truth. I want you to come home. If you aren't ready to tell me the truth, if you aren't ready to come home, then don't try to contact me. I'm through trying to contact you. Call Gina when you're ready to be honest, when you're ready to be my wife again. Rick.

It took longer to steel himself to hit 'send' than it did to write the text. Finally he put his finger on the icon, closed his eyes, and sent it.

"You'd best tell Gina about this," was all Hayley said. He nodded.

Gina

When Gina got his message, her initial response was one of shock. However, it didn't take her more than a moment to close her mouth and start circling the wagons. She was, she reasoned, going to keep her best property, one Rick Castle. Nikki Heat, on the other hand was probably one book away from dying, so, once this unfortunate situation was resolved, she would give Rick a couple of months to resolve his emotions about whatever happened, and then start brainstorming on new projects. She was also somewhat pleased that Rick had chosen to use her as his liaison with Kate, that meant she could exercise some control over the situation. She realized the Castle wanted more than just a liaison, he knew she was good at reading people and good at deflecting them if it was needed. She would make damn good and sure that Beckett was being honest and would an effective gate keeper if she wasn't.

Beckett had somewhat disrupted her plans for Castle's continued writing career. The Nikki Heat series was successful, but his writing in general had taken a back seat to his association with Beckett. There had been missed deadlines (not by more than a couple of days, granted), and editing issues (his writing was, as usual, high quality, but some of directions the stories took didn't always work). And, of course, there was the ongoing risk to his life. Besides, Gina knew that he had some ideas about more serious work, social and political commentary, that she liked and wanted to encourage. Arguably, they might not bring in as much money, but they would still be profitable, and would serve to establish him as, not just a popular writer, but as a writer of literature. The reputation would not hurt her firm in the least. Beckett was obstructing this.

She decided to call him to confirm her actions where Beckett was concerned. It would not be a good idea to overstep, though she didn't really think that she would; she had been married to him and knew him too well; he wanted Beckett back, but on the right terms, and she would enforce those terms.

Almost as soon as Gina had finished with Castle, her phone rang; she put it on speaker.

"What the Hell is going on between you and my husband?" Beckett opened without preamble.

"I'm a publisher, he's a writer who's under contract to my firm. And given your current, behavior, you hardly have a right to comment on his behavior, or mine, for that matter. Oh, and for your information, this call is being recorded."

"What right do you have to record this call?"

"The same right I have to record all calls made to my business phone. Now, I did tell you in advance, so you have no reason to complain. If you don't like it, hang up. So, then, just why are you calling?"

There was an audiable sigh of frustration at Kate's end of the line. "He sent me a text saying that, if I wanted to talk to him, I needed to go through you."

"Mmm, actually, that's not what he said. What he said, and I quote, was, 'call Gina when you're ready to be honest, when your ready to be my wife again'. There was more, but we won't go into that. So, are you ready to be honest and be his wife again? Or is this just another round of chain-jerking?"

" . . .husband"

"Where were you when he wanted to talk to you?"

"That's not your business. I want to talk to my husband."

"No. Not unless you're ready to do what he asked: tell him the truth, stop evading his questions, and go home."

"You know I can't do that."

"I don't know any such thing. So, unless you have something meaningful to say, this conversation is over." Gina prepared to hang up.

"Wait! I really do need to talk to him."

"You know the terms. You tell him the truth, you stop evading his questions. You stop avoiding contact. You go home. You honor your promises. Otherwise, you're SOL.

"You're not helping."

"It's not my job to help you. My job is to publish his work and keep people, in this instance you, from wasting his time."

There was a pause, then Kate said, "You're still in love with him! That's why you won't let me talk to him."

"And you're a delusional, know-it-all, arrogant bitch; and that's why you don't think you have to be accountable to your husband or the other people in your life." Gina replied matter-of-factly. "This conversation is over." Gina ended the call and leaned back with some satisfaction. She then hit speed dial.

Hayley picked up. "Castle residence."

"Hayley? This is GIna. I'm forwarding a recording of a conversation I just had with Kate Beckett to Castle's computer."

"Huh, well, we'll all be interested to hear that. Do you need to speak to him?"

"Maybe later, I"m expecting something to hit the fan fairly soon, vis-a-vis Beckett, and I want to be ready. I'll let you all know what happens."

"Ah, gotcha. Well, you have fun with her." Hayley ended the call.

Gina looked at her clock: 4:30 pm, not even close to time for a busy publisher to go home, however, she decided, she deserved a treat - an early night. She checked her schedule to make sure she had nothing pressing for the rest of the day, shut everything down, gave instructions to her assistant, and left. If Beckett called, she'd get voice mail. She texted Castle that she was going home and that he could contact her on her cell if necessary.

Castle

"Dad, I didn't know Gina could be such a hardass." Alexis smiled, a small, barely there, smile. She had been hurt and furious with Beckett since she had walked out and found herself silently cheering Gina.

Martha felt much the same way her granddaughter did. "Gina's a successful woman in a field where men predominate; she has to be a hardass. You know, I never did like her as a daughter-in-law, but as a publisher and a friend, she's a treasure."

Castle looked thoughtful, "I don't know, that was pretty harsh. Kate could react badly. Maybe I should ask Gina to dial it back a bit."

"Castle, don't you dare." Hayley replied. "That's exactly what she needs to hear. She has to know that we don't accept her actions, regardless of her excuses. She needs to hear some truths about herself. " Hayley swirled the ice cube in her glass. "Gina's doing fine. In fact, based on that conversation, I think she's the perfect person to be your liaison with Beckett." She paused. "I contacted my friend. He'll meet us at the office tomorrow morning, first thing. And, as much as I like your single malt, we need something resembling food. I'm going to check what's in the kitchen, anyone with me?"

Hayley, as it turned out, was an excellent cook.

Beckett

Beckett looked at her phone balefully. She wasn't accustomed to people pushing back and it momentarily threw her off. She snorted, hit redial, and got the recorded message. Hello, this is Gina Cowell's office. I'm temporarily away from my desk. Please, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you for calling.

After hitting redial several times and getting the same message, she gave up in disgust. "Castle said you could be passive-aggressive when you didn't like something." she muttered. "Well, we'll see how passive-agressive you are when I show up at your office door."

It took only a few minutes to arrive at Gina's office. She strode to the assistant's desk , wearing her police persona like an extra skin, and demanded to see Gina.

"I'am sorry, Miss ...?" The assistant looked expectant.

" "

"Oh. Well, then. I'm sorry Miss Becket, Ms Cowell has gone home for the day. May I give her a message?"

"It's Captain Beckett, NYPD." Kate showed her badge. "And I don't believe that she's not here." She started walking towards Gina's door.

"Officer Beckett, I already told you, Ms Cowell is not in. She's gone home. Please, don't make me call security."

Kate took a deep, frustrated breath. "And as I said, I don't believe that she's not here. And it's Captain, not officer, and I'm with the NYPD. Now, may I see her." Kate's tone was demanding.

"Captain Beckett, unless you are here on police business, I will not let you into her office. And, if, indeed, it is police business, I would think you would have a warrant. Do you have a warrant? If not, then I will repeat, Ms Cowell has gone for the day. I will, if you wish, take a message and give it to her first thing in the morning. Or, if you prefer, you can come back tomorrow; she usually arrives here at 6:30 am. She has a full schedule of meetings and appointments, so I would suggest that you be here promptly at 6:30."

Kate's mood couldn't have gotten any darker. She loosed an aggravated sigh and muttered, "fine, thank you for your ... help," turned on her heel and left.

She waited in her car for close to two hours, watching the building. At 7:00, the receptionist walked out of the building. Looking up at the windows, Kate noted that the lights were off and realized that she wasn't going to see or talk to Gina that day. She redialed Gina's number, left a message, and drove away.