Chapter 87: 87. Talking 'bout my girl
“Cupcakes.”
“Uh?”
“I want cupcakes. And coffee. And then you can tell me how you felt about my mother pushing you this morning.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“No talk, no cupcakes. You’ll get kale smoothie instead.” Beckett tries to show her displeasure at that idea, and realises that she’s currently stuck, nestled tightly against him on the couch. “Not much talking. Just why you did it at all.”
“To show Dr Burke that he’s not half as clever as he thinks he is. He said I couldn’t do it. But I did.”
Castle isn’t actually convinced of that. He thinks that Dr Burke might be even more clever than he thinks he is. Castle thinks that Dr Burke might have trailed a challenge in front of Beckett by telling her that she wasn’t ready to be put in a family situation.
“You did,” he says happily. He has a sudden thought. “Your wrist? I didn’t hurt it, did I?”
Beckett tentatively flexes it. “No. It’s fine.”
“Be careful of it. I don’t like my Beckett being hurt.”
“I noticed,” she murmurs. “I thought you were going to save me the trouble of shooting Dr Burke.” The shading of painful emotion is back in her voice. Suddenly she stops. “My Beckett?” she says ominously.
“Yes,” Castle replies, very definitively. “Mine.”
“Says who?”
“Me. You’re my Beckett. My Kate. And when I pet you and you purr, sometimes you’re even my Kat. Right now, you’re just mine, though.” He smooths over her hair and down her back. She curves into the stroke.
“Your mother” –
“is trying to get you to the loft. I know,” he says ruefully. “Stopping her is like standing in front of an eighteen-wheeler.”
“I’ll get there,” Beckett says. It sounds like a vow.
“When you’re ready. Anyway, I haven’t invited you.” Beckett splutters. “You have to wait for an invitation,” Castle says primly, intending to replace pain with snark.
“Like you do?”
“That’s totally different.”
“How?”
“If I waited for an invitation I wouldn’t be able to do this,” and he kisses her, “or this,” and his hand slides over her waist and palms her breast, “or this,” and his other hand traces intimate patterns on her shorts.
“If you waited for an invitation, I might do this,” and Beckett slips the buttons of his shirt apart and inserts a delicate hand to play with his nipples, “or this,” and the hand glides down and opens his pants, “or this,” and it curls around him again to leave him instantly hard in her grip. She slides down, and up. “But you didn’t wait,” and her hand disappears. She looks up at his hot blue gaze and smirks. “So I guess I won’t do that.” She skips a beat. “Cupcakes and coffee?” She tries to stand up, and finds it impossible.
“I don’t want coffee or cupcakes any more. I want you,” Castle growls. He stands with Beckett still tucked against him, picks her up bodily, and carries her to her bedroom. “You’re provoking me again. And you know what happens if you provoke me.”
Beckett smirks. “Do I? Show me again. I think I’ve forgotten.” Saying that may have been a small mistake. Seconds later she finds herself naked and pinned down by a very aroused and equally naked Castle. He reaches down to stroke through her, circling the nerves and not quite pressing. “Castle…”
“Yes?”
“Castle… ohhhh… that’s not fair.”
“Provoking me wasn’t fair,” he says lazily, and circles a little harder. She gasps. “Something you want, Beckett?” She reaches for him, and is forestalled. He slides down a little, and rubs hard flesh against wetness. “Uh-uh. Just let me. Stop making decisions, and leave it to me. You know you’ll like it.” His voice has dropped to sinful seductiveness, stroking her synapses from the inside out, hypnotic. She lets him take the lead and dissolves into the sensation of him sliding slowly into her: filling her full and wholly possessive as he takes her higher, takes her further, and then simply takes her over with him.
Castle wraps his Beckett into his arms and snuggles her in. The stress and hint of pain in her eyes have left her once more, and she’s comfortable – or comforted – beside him. Next weekend, he thinks, out of Manhattan, away from all her cares and troubles: next weekend, they’ll have time to be themselves.
“Cupcakes,” Beckett mumbles, some little time later.
“Coffee,” Castle mumbles in return.
“ ‘Kay.” Beckett stumbles out of her bed and into the bathroom. Castle watches her, and silently whistles at the bruising which he hadn’t earlier noticed. Shortly there is the sound of cleaning up. She emerges damp and tousled around the edges, to don a soft t-shirt and skirt. By the time Castle has tidied himself and dressed, there is coffee and the cupcakes are neatly divided into halves.
“Your father will see Dr Burke,” Castle says awkwardly.
“Okay. Thanks.” Beckett says nothing more about that, but her knuckles are white on the coffee mug. Castle declines to mention his own appointment, or her bruising. Nothing further of any importance is said, and Castle leaves, reluctantly, accompanied by a soft kiss and hug which does nothing to decrease his reluctance.
At five to eleven Castle presents himself at Dr Burke’s office. This time the receptionist doesn’t bother with an appreciative up-and-down. No point, if there’s no reaction, and it was pretty clear on Friday that she wasn’t going to get one.
“Mr Castle.” Dr Burke greets him with a professional smile.
“Hello,” Castle replies rather coldly and certainly warily.
“How is Detective Beckett?”
“Okay.” Dr Burke waits. Castle falls into the silence. “She came out to brunch at Balthazar with us yesterday.”
“Us?”
“My family.”
“Ah.”
“You planned that, didn’t you? You told her she shouldn’t try knowing that she would.”
“It seemed a reasonable conclusion to draw.” Dr Burke is sporting a very satisfied expression. “If she did not, there was no harm done. If she did, either it would be successful or you would be there to assist.”
“Has anyone told you that you’re a manipulative bastard?” Castle says with considerable fury.
“Frequently. I consider it to be a compliment,” Dr Burke says dryly. “How did your brunch progress?”
“She was stressed, but she got through. My mother pushed her pretty hard, but she dealt.”
“And did she stay long?”
Castle is trapped into truth. “Not as long as I’d have liked. She left not long after Mother started pushing.”
“Would she have agreed to brunch at your home?”
Castle sighs. “No.”
“I see. Some progress, but not as much as we might have hoped. However, that is not the main reason why you are here. I wish to understand how you convinced Detective Beckett to re-associate with you, and why. After all, she could not have made herself less attractive to you than she did by telling you that she could not bear your family. So why did you continue to associate with her?”
“She did it to protect her father. I worked it out, after I got home. I’d never have got it if Jim hadn’t walked into the middle of it, though. She was doing it deliberately to make me think it was all totally pointless. She wanted me to think the worst of her and if I hadn’t heard Jim’s version I’d have believed it. She was very convincing.”
“Because it was true. Detective Beckett could not bear to see you with your family.”
“Yeah. I know.” Dr Burke is, again, surprised. Mr Castle’s intelligence is quite substantial. “So I decided I wasn’t going to let her get away with it. Misleading me.”
“Why not?”
“Because” – Mr Castle stops. “The story wasn’t right. It didn’t fit the character.”
“That is not the only reason. The whole truth, please.”
“Because there was a different person. Not just Beckett, but someone who was softer and who just needed affection and to stand down. I didn’t think she let anyone see that side of her. But she let me. So I reckoned there was something more there.”
“Mm. Very astute.”
“So then Mrs Berowitz called Beckett and she just went. But I called her later and she was at the precinct so I showed up. She didn’t want me to. But I wasn’t letting her walk away without listening to me, so she just had to suck it up.”
“You said that she threatened to arrest you, but that you went to her apartment and found her intoxicated. Why did she threaten to arrest you?”
“I told her the story of what she was doing. She didn’t like being called on the truth.”
“I see. Please continue.”
“She was sodden drunk. Kept saying that she had to support everyone, that everyone needed her. She didn’t want anyone wanting anything any more.”
“Ah.”
“So anyway, it was clear that she was still drowning in guilt for walking away from her father, and over-compensating by trying to help everyone else – Mrs Berowitz. I showed up the next day, and then evening, and didn’t ask any questions at all. And…er…”
“Physical consolation proved effective,” Dr Burke states, based on his observations from Friday. How irritating. That is not a method that would be effective for any other person besides Mr Castle.
“Yeah.”
Hmm. Dr Burke considers for a moment, rapidly reorganising a number of data points: Mr Castle’s behaviour on Friday evening, Mr Beckett’s prolonged – in Detective Beckett’s eyes – weakness, Detective Beckett’s desire that no-one should need her or want anything from her, Mr Castle’s comment on Thursday evening that Detective Beckett is surrounded by tough guys, and finally the mention of “intervention” to solve the issue of Dr Parrish.
“Mr Castle, please would you explain how the intervention to which you referred, in order to resolve Detective Beckett’s quarrel with Dr Parrish, took place?”
“Lanie kept ringing everyone and yelling. Eventually we got a bit fed up, so Espo and I cooked up a plan to get Lanie in one bar with Ryan and Espo, so they could talk to her, and I’d take Beckett to another bar with O’Leary and we’d talk to her.”
“Who is O’Leary?” Dr Burke interjects.
“Detective O’Leary.” Mr Castle’s eyes sparkle. “He’s a mobile mountain. He’s about six-ten, and just about as wide. He and Beckett go way back, right to when she was a rookie.”
“Their relationship?”
“Oh, he’s gay. They’re pals. Paired up for work for a while when in uniform, but nothing else. He’s great. He had all sorts of stories. He’s…um… like her big brother. He’s pretty much the only person I’ve seen who can convince her to do anything at all. He told her to try to patch it up with Lanie and she did.”
“Mm. How very interesting. Am I correct in thinking that you and Detective O’Leary dealt with Detective Beckett while Detectives Ryan and Esposito dealt with Dr Parrish, and that you then collectively allowed Detective Beckett and Dr Parrish to talk?”
“Well, mostly. It took a bit more intervention. We got told to get lost, but each time it looked as if it was falling apart one of us went up to step in. All we got was told to butt out, but by the time they’d finished yelling at us they were pretty much on the same page.”
“Hm.” Dr Burke is beginning to understand. “Mr Castle, do you not detect a pattern here?” Mr Castle looks entirely blank. “Detective Beckett has responded to you and to Detective O’Leary. Neither of you need her to support you.”
“Oh. I thought it was about not talking. But it’s about protecting. She doesn’t have to. Protect us, I mean.” Mr Castle pauses. Dr Burke mentally applauds. “But she doesn’t need to protect Ryan or Espo but she doesn’t let them tell her anything – oh. Of course. She’s their boss. Same idea.”
“Exactly, Mr Castle.” Dr Burke waits expectantly.
“You think there’s something more.” Mr Castle acquires an unfocused gaze which Dr Burke assumes denotes thinking. “Oh – I see. No-one around her – none of the tough guys – needs protected – it’s she who needs time away from protecting people. Or she needs protected. Well. Very occasionally. And she doesn’t exactly ask for it…” he trails off. “I get it. She doesn’t ask because it wasn’t there. She even said that asking never helped. And she can’t ask for help from her subordinates – not that they formally are subordinates, but she’s the senior detective in the team.”
“Indeed. Her father has fundamentally failed in providing protection, at a time when it was most needed.” Dr Burke steeples his fingers. “Detective O’Leary seems to have managed it, and it is clear that in some manner you have made it clear, and far more importantly made Detective Beckett believe, that you will protect her when necessary. Therefore you managed to re-associate.” He hesitates. “This does not assist me in finding a way to help Detective Beckett re-establish a relationship with her father. She does not believe that her father will be able to support her, and it is extremely unlikely that she would attempt to find out.”
“But… but can’t you at least get them on good terms?”
“Naturally. However, you are hoping for a “happy ending”, Mr Castle, and I have to inform you that the ending is unlikely to be as conclusive as you would like. Real life is rarely as tidy as a book can be, and I would, if I were you, temper your hopes for Detective Beckett’s relationship with her father. You have already achieved much in attaining a relationship of your own with Detective Beckett. Do not over-reach and damage that.”
“I thought you said you didn’t do relationship counselling?”
“I do not. You are important to Detective Beckett’s recovery and happiness. That is my only interest.”
Castle shrugs unhappily. “She won’t be properly happy till she’s fixed matters with her father.”
“Fixing matters, as you put it, does not always entail the re-establishment of the original relationship. Sometimes the best that you can hope for is to establish a different, but effective, pattern of interaction.”
“Oh,” Castle says disappointedly.
“Concentrate on your own relationship with Detective Beckett, and leave that with her father to me. It will be much more profitable.” Dr Burke looks at the clock. “We are almost at the end of the session. Is there anything more for today?”
“No. Thank you.”
Castle returns home, somewhat bruised. He had, he realises, very much wanted to give Beckett the perfect happy ending, mending all her issues with her father. Only you can save yourself. He can’t. He can save them, because Beckett’s putting all her considerable will behind that, but not her relationships with others. She needs to decide to do that, and she still isn’t there.
He turns his mind to the other deeply interesting lesson from today. Beckett needs protected. Or… or wants to know that someone will protect her if need be? Castle isn’t even sure that wants is the right word – Beckett is only too likely to deny it if asked. But it fits. Even right back at the very start, on her joyless birthday, she’d cuddled in and let him lead and been soft and not at all wanting to take charge. And since then it’s been all about… hm. Not asking questions – protecting her privacy. Mildly assertive lovemaking – letting her know that he’ll make the decisions and let her not be in charge: let her stand down in safety. And latterly, coming when she needed him, to gather her in and protect her from the world.
Ah. It’s not what he’d imagined: romantically, swashbucklingly slaying dragons for a fair maiden. Beckett is perfectly capable of slaying her own dragons – at work. But outside work, she needs a safe haven, somewhere she’s protected and petted and cossetted close and doesn’t need to slay dragons. And he can give her that, because he’s secure enough, strong enough to let her shoot the bad guys, so long as he’s the only one with whom she stands down later. He has his own successes, his own reputation, his stable life; and Beckett needs someone who doesn’t need to rely on her for support or validation.
Dr Burke has carefully ensured that his schedule is clear for half an hour after Mr Castle’s session should end. Partly, this was to allow for over-running. Partly, it was to allow him to take account of any new insights or information which might become apparent. Dr Burke is not sure that he has learned anything completely new about Detective Beckett’s issues, but he has certainly been able to put another set of matters into their correct context.
Detective Beckett was stable for as long as she thought she was protecting her father and that he needed her. It appears that Detective O’Leary may have provided some respite, of a platonic nature. Then she came into the ambit of Mr Castle, who was instantly attracted and more importantly very much inclined to act upon that attraction. Mr Castle, Dr Burke surmises, is, or was, not used to resistance to his charms. Cynically, money, fame, good looks and a certain air of forceful masculinity would probably remove most objections. Detective Beckett, however, did resist, for some time. Dr Burke further surmises that Mr Castle had first wormed his way into Detective Beckett’s affections by applying that same forceful masculinity. It seems the only possible way in which two such apparently different characters would come together.
Unfortunately, a series of misunderstandings, undoubtedly caused by Detective Beckett’s inability to ask for help or indeed to reveal any weakness, and then compounded by Mr Castle’s fundamental belief in the sanctity of family bonds, led to a major breach. On the other hand, had the breach not occurred, it is extremely unlikely that Detective Beckett and Mr Castle would have formed such a strong bond. Mr Castle is considerably tougher, mentally and emotionally, than Dr Burke would have expected. He is certainly, in Dr Burke’s expert opinion, capable of providing Detective Beckett with the stability she will need. He is also intelligent enough, both in raw IQ and emotionally, to understand her issues.
Now, about her father. Mr Beckett has no idea how he had behaved while drunk. Detective Beckett has not told him of his words or actions. Mr Castle evidently does know, and has, wisely, declined to interfere. An amateur becoming involved – such as Mr Castle, or indeed Detective Beckett’s previous therapist – would be profoundly unhelpful. He makes a small note in his diary to contact an equally well-respected colleague, to discuss what should be done in regard to the previous therapist.
Returning to Mr Beckett, the first priority is to understand what he knows about how he behaved, and what he had thought about the way in which Detective Beckett had treated him once he became dry. After that, Dr Burke will need to consider how, or indeed whether, to undertake the exceedingly delicate task of enlightening him as to the effects of the actions Mr Beckett does not yet know he took. Intertwined with these two difficult items is the potential for Mr Beckett to introduce a new complication to this matter, as if there were not quite sufficient complexities already, if he should resent Mr Castle’s relationship with Detective Beckett or indeed Mr Castle’s interference in his relationship with his daughter.
Really, it is just as well that Detective Beckett had come to him, Dr Burke. No lesser practitioner – as has been seen – would be capable of unravelling this tangle. However, he does admit to some relief that the majority of his patients are much less complex and more easily assisted.
On that thought, he turns to one such patient.
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