101. Chapter 101

Chapter 101

When everyone else in the household was in bed and Rick and Kate had the loft to themselves, he poured each of them a small glass of wine and joined Kate on the sofa, handing her a glass.

"This was a good week," he said contentedly.

"Yeah, it was, "Kate agreed, taking a sip of her wine and leaning her shoulder against her husband's and sighing just as contentedly. "With the wedding over and all the parental assistance we had, it was rejuvenating. I think I can go back to work a little more prepared to face new things now."

"You're still tired tonight, though." He knew the signs.

"But it's a good tired. Who knew the beach, the pool, and a lovable, adorable eighteen month old clone of his father could be so exhausting?"

Castle laughed and kissed her head. "You have me and my eighteen month old clone and you're wondering why you tired?"

"But I love you both."

"He'll get older and more independent before long, and then we'll miss this."

"Probably. But at least he'll be potty trained by then." She finished her wine, rested her chin on his shoulder, gave him a smile, and said, "Lack of diapers will be nice."

He kissed her flirty smile and told her, "It's about time to work on that. I've seen a few signs lately that he might be ready."

"I sure am," she answered. "So, does that mean we need to go shopping this week for one of those tiny plastic toilets?"

"Yeah, we'll do that." Then he chuckled. "When we first met, I would never have guessed we'd be sitting here someday planning the purchase of a little potty for Mini-me."

"And people who knew me then probably thought I'd never reach that point with anybody. I didn't exactly project warm, fuzzy, mom vibes."

"It took a little while to see it, but I knew it was in there. I may have had to squint a little bit to find it at first, though," he teased.

She shoved his arm in retaliation but still smiled. "We've come a long way since then. And I might think it just keeps getting better. I love you, Richard Castle."

He took her empty wine glass and put it on the table with his, then he draped his arm around her shoulders, looking smug. "You might, huh?" "Any regrets?"

"No," she answered quickly and confidently. After a moment of hesitation, she noted quietly, "I've changed your life a lot, though. My work schedule has taken away a lot of the spontaneity you used to have. Do you have any regrets?"

"None. I have you and the kind of family I've always wanted. I'm a happy man."

"Is there anything you miss…now that your life is locked in closer to an NYPD work schedule?"

"Not enough to worry about it." Seeing her way too intuitive expression, he reluctantly admitted, "Travel, maybe? When Alexis was little, we'd just pick up and go sometimes. Now and then I'd get a little stir crazy in the loft with just the two of us, so I'd pack our bags, and we'd go somewhere. Sometimes we'd have a definite destination, maybe take a plane to a specific place. Other times we might just go on a road trip…we called it an adventure. The excitement of their trips showed in his eyes as he spun his tale. Sometimes it was only for a day or two…maybe on a weekend after she was in school; or it could be a week or more during holidays or in the summer. We'd stop whenever we saw something that looked interesting…a petting zoo, a weird museum, a festival of some kind… We met a lot of interesting people, and I got some random book research out of it, too. And in the summer, we'd just move into the beach house and only come back to the city when we needed to or just felt like it. I'd love to be able to do that with you and Jamie now and then."

"Maybe when I have a weekend off or a few days of vacation or comp time, we could have a short adventure?"

"Mrs. Castle, I'd love to take you on an adventure."

"Right now, I a shower and bed is a big enough adventure. I have just over a week and a half of normal at the twelfth, then there's orientation for the less appealing, longer term adventure."

Standing and holding out his hand, he answered, "Come on. I'll wash your back…and anything else you let me get away with and then tuck you in close to me."

xxxxx

In the week and a half before the orientation sessions, Beckett's team caught two homicides. The first was a challenge. The second case had a predictable outcome, and the murderer confessed almost immediately. It was a crime of passion, and the remorse was obvious.

Two days before the orientation, they thought they might have to leave the first case for the low closure replacements who would be taking their places at the twelfth. Then, early in the day, they found something that looked like it might be important to the case they were struggling with. After dropping by the loft and talking to Castle over a good lunch, they were ready to interrogate two people. Castle didn't actually solve anything single handedly; but, as was often the case with his questions coming from a slightly different perspective, it brought out new questions and possibilities from the others. And the group effort paid off.

The team spent the following morning rounding up two suspects and carrying out interrogations. Search warrants were obtained and executed, and by mid-afternoon they were down to the paperwork.

"Good work, Lieutenant," Gates praised as Kate handed over the case file that afternoon. "Please pass on my appreciation to your team."

"It was looking like we might have to leave this for our replacements; and not knowing what to expect from them, we were concerned. I'm glad we can leave them a clean slate." With a sigh, Beckett said, "We all brought boxes this morning. Unless you need us for something else, we'll start clearing out our desks now."

"When you finish that, all of you can go home. I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow morning."

After the desks were cleared, other detectives filled Beckett's desk top with a cake, paper plates, and plastic utensils.

"You guys will use any excuse for a giant cake, won't you?" Beckett asked with a big smile, offering the cop version of "Thank you."

"We hear the same thing is going on in robbery this afternoon," Lupinski reported as he was slicing the cake. "Castle should be here any minute. I called him when you started emptying your desks."

"Give me that knife," Hastings ordered, laughing after watching the first cut, and she took it from Lupinski's hand. "I never saw such a mess." She continued the job but cut straighter lines so the rest of the pieces would be the same size. "Next time just give me the knife to begin with," she told him good-naturedly.

"Did you order the new guys a cake, too?" Esposito asked as he grabbed a plate, fork, and the first piece of cake, one from the larger end of Lupinski's uneven cut.

"No," Karpowski answered. "They have to earn it. Maybe they'll get one when they leave…either because they improved a lot or because we're so glad to get rid of them."

The elevator dinged and Castle joined them. Other detectives wandered over to their corner of the bullpen, depending on where they were in their work; and Gates was there for a few minutes before she returned to her office. The little get-together actually encompassed only about twenty minutes…long enough for those on the floor to get a piece of cake and say a few words to Beckett's team. Then they cleared the desk and left the remainder of the cake up for grabs in the break room.

Castle helped Beckett take the things from her desk to her car, and then he took his wife for coffee while they were out.

"Meagan has Jamie, and your dad is meeting her at the loft after work," he told her. "She said they'd take him to the park before they fed him, and she told me to take you somewhere relaxing for dinner. We all know you aren't looking forward to tomorrow and next week."

"Bless them."

"So, Italian or the comfort food truck?"

"Arturo's?"

"I thought that might be your choice. Already called him."

xxxxx

The orientation session was held in a meeting room at 1 PP, and it was supervised and run by members of the committee in charge of the exchange program. The four captains and two lieutenants from the precincts involved were present as well as the rest of the assigned detectives from each precinct.

With two groups in the room, one embodying the best and the other representing the opposite end of the spectrum, the possibility of ill will and discontent was certainly there. As Beckett's team stood taking stock of the general atmosphere in the room, it became obvious that the presence of the higher ranking members of the program's committee was the only thing tamping that down in some cases. There was minimal contact among the representatives of the various precincts during the hospitality time before the meeting commenced. Attitudes among the detectives ranged from resigned to sullen to disinterested or uncertain, with some peer pressure seeming to figure in as to how much of that to show.

The actual meeting hadn't even started and the day was rapidly rising to Beckett's low expectations.

Before he took over the podium to welcome the attendees and thank them for their cooperation, Chief Dawson made a short appearance to have a cup of coffee with the group and shake a lot of hands.

After he left, the committee members gave the detectives a full explanation of the program and what they hoped it would accomplish. They offered the hope that each of the transplanted teams would soon adapt to their new precincts and build a good working relationship with their fellow detectives there.

Following a short break, the room was separated into two groups, each made up of the two captains whose precincts would exchange personnel, the detectives who would be temporarily transferred, and committee members who would observe, make suggestions, and answer any questions. It was a slow start for both groups, the facilitors for the meeting doing most of the talking to bridge the initial silence.

The atmosphere between the two captains in Beckett's group was tense, Captain Bronson from the fifty-first precinct in the Bronx appearing borderline belligerent. Gates took the first step and reached to shake Bronson's hand. He shook it but didn't look happy about it. She then turned to her new charges and introduced herself to the detectives from the fifty-first.

"I'm Captain Victoria Gates," she said, holding her hand out to the closest of the detectives. "And you are?" The man she spoke to first was their lieutenant, and he introduced the others from their precinct. Gates shook each one's hand and told them she hoped they would soon be comfortable working with the other teams at the twelfth.

The general tension eased very slightly within the group in general, but Captain Bronson was still unresponsive and sullen, leaning back in his chair in a position that looked like an attempt at intimidation.

Clearly making an effort to communicate, Beckett extended her hand to Captain Bronson and introduced herself. "I'm Lieutenant Kate Beckett, Homicide, Sir, and…"

Without shaking her hand or moving from his position, Bronson said, "I know who you are. You're the media darling of Manhattan. Don't expect to get by on that in my precinct."

Gates looked at him and said civilly but pointedly, "Lieutenant Beckett has never needed to rely on anything but her ability to do her job competently, and I can't imagine that would change now."

As if no ill will had happened, Beckett continued, "This is the rest of my team, Javier Esposito, Kevin Ryan, and Ron Sully."

"Where's the high and mighty writer?" Bronson prodded. "Did he finally get tired of following you around playing cop? Or maybe he thinks he's too good for the Bronx. Do you think you're too good for the Bronx, Lieutenant?"

In spite of the snide remarks, Beckett moved on to introduce Tom Demming and his team from Robbery.

"You didn't answer my question, Lieutenant," he said as if he deserved an answer.

With her poker face well in place, Beckett answered as respectfully as anyone watching could expect, "Unless he's doing something illegal or keeping me from doing my job, my husband's thoughts or whereabouts have no bearing on my work and don't require discussion."

Bronson glared at Beckett after that response, and Deputy Chief Alvarez, the chairman of the committee, called another break. As everyone got something to drink or headed for the restrooms, Alvarez spoke to Bronson quietly.

"Captain Bronson, a word, please." Then a bit louder for the benefit of those around them, he said, "It's feeling a little cramped in here. I think I'll take my coffee out in the hallway…stretch my legs before we start again."

"Good idea," Bronson answered gruffly, and he followed at a good distance behind Alvarez.

Within the view of everybody else, Alvarez was asking Bronson questions about how he planned to incorporate the new detectives into his precinct and looking friendly as they walked. However, after they had "stretched their legs" long enough to round a corner and enter a small interview room, the deputy chief's demeanor changed. Bronson was now confronted with an annoyed higher ranking officer.

"I could have done this in front of everybody; and from what I can see, you probably would have if the situation were reversed. But as rude and petty as you look to everybody right now with that half cord of wood on your shoulder, I didn't think embarrassing you back there would help. So now that we're out of sight…exactly what the hell are you playing at, Bronson? For the next four months, your precinct has access to one of the top few homicide teams in the entire city, an outstanding team for Robbery, too…and you're not just annoying Lieutenant Beckett, you're deliberately trying to goad her into something you can use against her. Where do get off asking her personal questions, insulting her husband, making insinuations about how she does her job, and then sounding threatening when she doesn't answer them? She's admirably in control of herself. She's not rising to the bait; so if I were you, I'd get it together. What is your problem? Do you dislike successful women? Are you jealous of her solve rate…or maybe the media attention? Are you threatened by her competence? Is it just Beckett, or have you decided to hate all eight of the people from the twelfth on sight? And not even shaking hands with the people you're going to work with for the next quarter of the year? Really? We're damned lucky to have them in any precinct in this city, and if you keep up the harassment that everybody in that meeting room just witnessed, I'll write you up myself for…"

"My problem is that I didn't ask for any help," the captain blustered. "And I don't want her around. I don't want any of them around," Bronson interrupted.

"Well, the teams from the twelfth didn't have any more say in this than you did, so you might as well accept it and try to be civil…and hope that this morning's unprofessional display doesn't get back to the chief. Look, I understand this isn't being done under circumstances that you would choose, but it's going to happen anyway. It's sanctioned from the top, and the chief is going to expect you to cooperate. You might as well accept it. Four months. It's hardly a blip on the radar in your service career. You don't even have to apologize. Just roll back the intimidation tactics…starting now. And once those teams are in your precinct, don't push your luck."

"Yes, Sir," the captain answered resentfully.

"Go on back. I'll follow in a few minutes and get the meeting underway again."

When Deputy Chief Alvarez entered the room again, he indicated that everyone should return to the places they had occupied before the before the break. Bronson still looked boorish, but he toned down his behavior, speaking when spoken to, using as few words as possible, still not shaking hands…not that anyone had any desire to offer again. However, the anger under the surface was visible to everyone in the room.

The captain from the other low performing precinct was handling his conundrum much better, in spite of the fact that the circumstances would inevitably cause a blow to his ego; and the detectives from the twelfth were casting envious glances in that direction.

The team going to the twelfth didn't ask too many questions. They seemed to avoid looking cooperative in any way in front of Bronson. Beckett's team was stoic. They were a good team, and they had helped get a major drug dealing/torturing murderer, a serial killing, drug dealing senator, and a crazed serial murderer off the streets. They'd get through four months of Bronson.

When the meeting was finally over, Beckett again offered her hand to her new captain, doing her part to work with the situation whether he did or not. He ungraciously shook her hand and glanced over toward Alvarez, who nodded his approval. The captains were already gone, and about half of the detectives from the twelfth and the fifty-first were preparing to leave.

"We'll see you on Monday, Sir," Beckett told him respectfully.

Bronson grunted something unintelligible in response and strode out of the room, leaving a feeling of relief in his wake. His detectives looked more at ease and finally said a few words to the teams they were replacing.

"Is he always like that?" Esposito asked.

"Not usually that bad, but sometimes not a lot better," the man who introduced himself as Lieutenant Paul Stiles answered. "Has your lieutenant done something to make him mad? I've never seen him that bad in public."

"Nothing I know of," Beckett answered, joining the conversation. "So he's that bad at the precinct, too?"

"Once in a while. He's kind of unpredictable, and chronically grouchy."

"Well, Captain Gates is tough, but she's fair. You get the job done, and you'll be fine. She won't expect you to work any harder than she does, but don't think that's a reprieve. She puts in some long hours, too. And the people at the twelfth are good to work with, always ready to help when you need it."

"Sorry you aren't moving into the same situation," Stiles answered. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Esposito answered. "It looks like we might need it."

The team gathered the materials they had been given and started heading home. Before getting into their cars to depart, Beckett's team stopped for a couple of minutes to commiserate. They all went home in a dismal mood.

xxxxx

Castle and Jamie met Kate at the door with hugs. And her husband kissed her and asked how the meeting went.

"Later," she answered, hugging Jamie close. "I need to forget it for a little while."

"That good, huh?" Seeing her nod dejectedly, he said, "Sorry to hear that." He gave her another kiss and told her to take Jamie to the nursery and let him entertain her for a while. "Since I finished the chapter I've been working on, I'll get dinner started. I'm actually two chapters ahead now, but I'll hold them in reserve until it looks like Gina is about to start screaming again. I love being able to shut her down when she's all wound up and ready to strike."

"There's something inherently disturbing about that, but I'm letting it go. I've had enough disturbing today. Not going there."

Castle grinned at her. "Probably for the best. Take your time with Jamie. Just enjoy each other."

"I might need some time later with his daddy, too."

"I'm all yours when you're ready," he assured her with a devilish smile. But it looks like you need a lot of baby smiles right now, and he looks like he couldn't be happier. You should see his face when he knows you're home."

"Yeah?" she asked, looking pleased. "Is it good?"

"Oh, yeah. He just lights up…like somebody flipped a switch."

She held her baby a little closer and closed her eyes, nuzzling his cheek. He was snuggly right then, and Castle could tell that she was loving that.

"Want a story, Baby Boy?" she asked softly, and Jamie's head popped up.

"Book?" he asked, looking excited.

"Book," she assured him. "Let's go find one."

After their flexible evening ritual, as they prepared for bed, Castle asked, "Are you ready to tell me about your orientation today?"

"No. Let's save it for tomorrow. Let me go to sleep thinking about you and Jamie."

"You did look more relaxed at dinner."

"I was. Playing with Jamie always makes me feel better." She paused and smiled softly. "And there's nothing that compares to when I pick him up and kiss his little head when he's sleepy and he snuggles his face against my neck."

"His daddy likes to do that, too," Castle teased, and Kate smiled as she swatted his arm.

When we were first getting to know each other and you'd talk about Alexis when she was a baby, I could almost hear it in your voice, see it in your eyes. But now that I know how it feels, too…I guess there aren't real words for it. When it comes to my mood, I'd swear our little boy has magical powers."

"He does, doesn't he?" Castle agreed.

His father has a few magical qualities of his own."

"He does, does he? Want to expound on that? You know how my ego loves a little stroking."

"I guess it deserves it now and then. Patience, empathy, love… I can't think of anybody else I'd want to be the father of my children…or to spend the rest of my life with. The rugged handsomeness doesn't hurt, either."

"Your children? Are we including Alexis here, or are we ready to talk about a mini Kate?"

"Not yet, but she's still a possibility."

"Yes!" he answered in delight, picking her up and twirling around with her a couple of times.

She laughed at the little boy exuberance and kissed him when they stopped moving, arms still around each other.

"Wow! You skipped right over the rugged handsomeness part? I can't believe you have a twenty year old and an eighteen month old and still get this excited about starting all over again with another one."

"Only with you," he assured her, easing her feet back to the floor. "But it's up to you, Kate. You get the hard part of getting our children into the world, so when you think you're ready for that again…"

Maybe in another year or two? I don't think I'll be too old then. I'm not sure you'll ever be too old. You still amaze me. But you do realize that our grandchildren could easily grow up with our children, right?"

"Yeah, I do. I also have no illusions that sooner or later I'll be mistaken for my child's grandparent. It's a little depressing when I think about it, so I try not to; but I had to find you before I was willing to have another one."

"You don't look like a grandpa to me…and I'm the one you need to impress with that, right?"

"The only one that matters," he affirmed.

"Better be," she answered flirtatiously, pulling him into a loving kiss.