Second Chance

The little going away party the team planned for Castle was going well. The easy repartee with the others was fun; and it made him feel that, in spite of the teasing, his work there had been valued and appreciated, and that he had been a welcomed part of their group.

The only thing that hadn't felt enjoyable about his closing time at the twelfth was that he had witnessed Beckett kissing Schlemming. Not only had she kissed him, she had planned a weekend trip with him…would probably let him do things with her that Castle had so much wished she would eventually allow from him. That left him alone for Memorial Day weekend, and he had fallen into the supremely unwise decision to have Gina join him. They might make it amicably through the summer, but their history included a lot of unsettling arguing. By the time he had hung up the phone, he had begun to regret it; but Gina was between boyfriends, loved the lifestyle in the Hamptons, and she was someone familiar and willing. He felt a little guilty: but he needed to take his mind off Beckett and the robbery detective, and he knew Gina was taking advantage of the situation as much as he was.

Beckett arrived at the party late and seemed uncharacteristically flirty before she asked to talk to him, and they went into the hall to speak privately. Castle could see that she was taking a roundabout path to what she wanted to say; but it seemed she was about to make her point when Gina, the perfectly put together blond ex-wife/editor, left the elevator, enthusiastically laid claim to Castle, and made her summer plans clear. Castle explained the other woman's presence, then Beckett wished him a good summer, and he left with Gina.

Conscientiously facing away from the windows through which the people lingering at the party might see her, Beckett returned to her desk, and Lanie excused herself from the group and joined her friend.

"What was all that?" she asked.

"That was Castle taking his ex-wife to the Hamptons instead of me. Guess he didn't care as much as you thought after all," Beckett seethed quietly.

"Oh, no. Don't try that on me, girlfriend. I've been here for all of it, and you tell me things, remember? He asked you more than once, and then, accidentally I might add, found out you'd planned a trip with Demming. You don't get to blame this on Castle. If you're upset about it, I'll take you drinking to dull the feelings; but don't expect too much sympathy from me. You may have just single-handedly destroyed the best thing that could happen to your life."

"But he…"

"But nothing. He thought you were interested in somebody else, so he found somebody who actually admitted she wanted to go with him. There's nothing wrong with that, and he didn't need your permission to do it."

Beckett glanced over her shoulder at Lanie before dropping dejectedly into her chair without answering, and Lanie continued her less than sympathetic remarks.

"How did Blondie get her hooks into him again, anyway?"

Lanie received the Beckett glare and a recount of Castle's explanation of his previous night's conversation with the former Mrs. Castle.

"Well, they're divorced," the ME offered. "There must be a good reason for that. Maybe it will turn up this summer and he'll be available again when he comes back in the fall."

"If he comes back in the fall," Beckett sighed. "I may have ruined that, too. And what am I supposed to do, sit here alone and wait for the possibility that they'll get tired of each other?"

"Well, from the anger at the fact that he invited Gina after you kicked him to the curb, I'd say that's what you expected him to do…wait around and moon over you until you got tired of Demming. That's just wrong, Kate. And what's good for the goose is good for the gander. You…"

"Okay, okay. I get it. You're right. It's my own fault."

"I don't understand why you're in such a snit, anyway," Lanie continued. "You're leaving with Demming tomorrow morning, and you can't have it both ways. This isn't like you. I've never seen you try to keep two guys interested at the same time."

"There's no trip with Tom. I broke things off with him so I could go with Castle. And then…

"Oh."

"Yeah." Beckett ran her hands through her hair, a sign of her frustration. "I waited too long."

"Hmphf! Now I'm finding some sympathy." Lanie reached out to touch Kate's shoulder. "Promise me something, honey."

"What?"

"Promise me that if you get another chance with Castle you won't blow it again. If you're with the wrong guy when he's available again, do what you did today. Leave him and give Castle a chance. Promise me. He really cares about you. He only did this because you hurt him."

"I promise to at least think about it."

"I guess that's better than I hoped for. I'm sorry I jumped on you so hard."

"No need to be sorry. Everything you said was the truth."

"Want to get out of here and go for drinks at the bar around the corner?"

"You have a date. Don't let me ruin…"

"It isn't until eight. Plenty of time."

"No. I'm going to get some clothes from my locker, make room to bring replacements on Tuesday. Then I'm going home. Some wine, comfort food, and a good movie usually help. You go and get ready for your date. I'll be okay."

The minute Beckett got into the elevator, Lanie went back for her purse, got out her phone, and returned to the bullpen to send Castle a text.

"My girl broke up with Demming so she could go with you this weekend, and she's actually facing up to what she's done. If there's any chance of fixing this hot mess, you need to do it now before she turns back into a pumpkin."

There was an almost immediate text from Castle, quickly followed by a second one.

"Be there in a couple of minutes."

"Where is she?"

Gina was settling herself in the passenger seat in Castle's Mercedes, and he had just closed her door when the text came in. He walked behind the car to the driver's side and stopped at the back door to read it before getting in; and in that instant, the full effect of his moment of supreme 'unwisdom' dropped on him with the weight of an unusually large sumo wrestler. He wasn't sure how, but he had to try to salvage the situation; and it would have to be done before he left town.

Opening the car door, he told Gina as calmly as he could, "I forgot something. Wait here," and he tossed her the car keys. "Turn the car on so you have some air conditioning. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Richard," she answered impatiently, "Can't it wait? The traffic…"

"It won't matter. It's Memorial Day weekend. The traffic will be bad for the rest of the day. Find some music you like. I won't be long."

As he forced himself not to run full tilt into the building while Gina was watching him, he knew he had told her the truth. Whatever happened, it wouldn't take long. Beckett might be reasonable and talk to him. Yeah, right. Hope was nebulous on that score. Or she might threaten to pull her gun on him, or maybe refuse to talk to him at all. Regardless of her response, he intended to say what he needed to say; and he was sure he could count on Lanie's help to keep Beckett corralled with him until he did. Whichever way it went, though, he was sure it wouldn't take long.

Too stressed to handle standing in the elevator for four floors, he decided to take the stairs, stopping at the bottom of the stairwell long enough to read the last text and answer it.

"She's getting things from her locker. Do you want to meet her in the conference room?"

"That's good. Be right there. Thank you, Lanie."

He took the stairs rapidly, two at a time, slowing down only when he entered the homicide floor, and went directly to the conference room. As he caught his breath, he realized he had no idea exactly what he would say to Beckett; and he tried to get his flustered brain to at least formulate an opening sentence. He was a writer; surely he could manage that much.

Leaving nothing to chance, Lanie walked to the locker area and told Beckett that the captain wanted to see her in the conference room before she left.

"Why?" Beckett asked as she closed her locker.

"I don't know. He just said to tell you… and that it wouldn't take but a few minutes."

Beckett growled softly, "I just want to go home." She roughly shoved her clothes into her duffel bag, shoved her purse in behind it, and huffed out of the room with the ME, finally calming enough to tell her, "You didn't have to walk this far. You could have called."

"Just being a friend…thought I'd walk you out." Lanie wisely kept her mouth shut otherwise until they reached the conference room where she insisted, "Give me your bag. I'll wait for you out here."

"You really don't need to stay. I can find my way home on my own, you know."

"You need to unwind, so we're still stopping for that drink. Now hurry up and get this over with. And…ummm… Before you go in… Try to keep an open mind. And remember that promise you made."

"Lanie?" The detective looked thoroughly confused.

"Go."

Beckett looked over her shoulder on the way through the half closed door. Her friend was behaving strangely. Then she saw the man who was in the room. Definitely not the captain. And she turned back toward the door just as it closed firmly behind her.

Castle had seen the look of understanding as the detective entered the room, though, and knew that Lanie was in deep trouble.

Still facing the door, her back turned to Castle, Beckett asked icily, "Shouldn't you be with your ex-wife?"

She had just given him his opening. "Probably not," he answered quickly. "Cards on the table for a change, Beckett. I never should have married her in the first place, and I sure as hell have no business rekindling anything with her now. After the divorce, I even had the entire beach house and most of the loft redecorated to get rid of all the ex-wife vibes; but I had a weak moment after I realized why you kept refusing to join me for the weekend, and I caved. I never wanted to take anybody but you with me this weekend."

Her stiff posture softened somewhat, and she looked over her shoulder for a short moment, brushing the fingers of one hand nervously over the edge of the conference table.

"Shouldn't you be with Demming?" he asked.

"Probably not."

Well, that was delightfully not what he had expected.

"Demming. Is it serious?"

"No."

"Is there an explanation for that?"

Getting no answer, he followed with, "Are you still going away with him this weekend?"

"No," she answered so quietly he barely heard her.

"Is there an explanation for that?"

She turned a tiny bit in his direction and looked down as she nodded.

"It's really hard to get complete answers out of you, you know," he teased cautiously. "Kind of like pulling teeth."

The corners of her lips turned up very slightly as she turned to face him, arms folded across her chest.

"I never should have started seeing him in the first place."

"Come on, Beckett. Your cards on the table, too. "Why?"

"You know he's a good man, Castle, even if you don't like him. He's a good man, and it wasn't fair of me. I tried to fool myself into thinking there could be something to it, but I had to face it today."

"Because?"

She paused as if she were considering whether to say more and looked down again. "Because my feelings for him weren't strong enough that it would hurt me too much if he walked away."

"Please tell me that your feelings for me are strong enough that it would hurt you if I walked away."

"I broke up with him today," she mumbled, still looking toward her feet; but Castle wasn't giving up this time. It was too important.

"I don't think you were about to wish me a happy summer when I left, and I'd like to hear what you intended to say…without anyone else interrupting."

Again there was no answer, just more staring at the floor.

"Were you about to tell me you would come with me this weekend?"

She nodded, and Castle knew how much that little nod had cost her pride.

"And I hurt you when I walked away?"

Another nod.

Castle moved closer to enfold her gently in his arms, and she didn't resist, just wrapped her arms lightly around his waist and leaned into him.

"Kate, I'm so sorry."

"Me, too. But it was my fault. You shouldn't have to apologize."

"I would never intentionally hurt you."

"I know."

"If I fix this with Gina, will you still come with me?"

He felt her nod against his chest, and relief poured through him. Breakthrough. Holding her away from him, he gave her a look that was more confident than he felt, accompanied by a joyful smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes; and Kate smiled too.

"I'll take care of this, I promise, but I'll need to do some writing this weekend. After I talk to Gina and take her back home, which I will do, one way or another, I'm not likely to get any extensions on deadlines any time soon. And I shudder to think of the editing arguments coming up," he explained. "Are you okay with that?"

"Getting to stare at you while you work? Sure. It should be a nice change."

Castle chuckled. "Not sure I can work with creepy staring."

"I'm a grown-up, Castle. I can entertain myself while you write."

"Then it's settled. I'll pick you up at your apartment in an hour."

"Okay."

Castle didn't want to stop touching her, but there was a problem to solve and very little time to solve it. He squeezed one of Kate's hands before he rushed out of the room, nearly running into an anxious Lanie, who had been pacing around near the door.

"How did it go? She didn't turn back into a pumpkin, did she?"

"Bippity-boppity-boo!" he answered, complete with a big Castle smile, a hand flourish worthy of Martha Rodgers, and a quick kiss on Lanie's cheek. "You're the official fairy godmother."

"We'll talk about rewards next week, Writer-Boy," she called out as he hustled off toward the stairs. Then she joined Beckett in the conference room.

Castle took the stairs once more, again too wired to handle the confines of an elevator, but for a different reason this time. He already felt guilt about Gina; but Beckett was willing to give them a chance, and he strongly suspected that they had something they could build into a future together. And consorting...or cavorting…with a wife he had already divorced once was likely to neither work out with Gina any better than it had the first time nor further any future with Beckett. What had possessed him?

He then became aware that just thinking about Beckett had put an undoubtedly stupid, smitten smile on his face…even in the midst of the Gina problem.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he paused to catch his breath and formulate at least a vague plan. He had to be firm and convincing without raising Gina's suspicions, so what would convince her? Pacing back and forth across the space in the stairwell, he tried to think of something. Several thoughts passed quickly through his brain, including his writing. Not that she wouldn't enjoy other aspects of being with him in the Hamptons, too; but in the end, Gina would always want to insure that the next money-making book was completed on time. The writing would be her priority. That would be it, then. Work with the good of the writing, and wing it from there.

Before leaving the stairwell, he allowed himself a brief moment of supplication to whatever forces of the universe might be of help. Sometimes it seemed the universe was trying its best to throw him together with Beckett, so surely there was help out there somewhere. He was willing to beg.

Ah. Beckett. The stupid, smitten smile was back. He could feel it. No, no, no. Not now. Suppose Gina saw it and thought it was for her…and then discovered it wasn't. That absolutely couldn't happen, so he had to get it under control. He schooled his features into what he hoped would look serious and contemplative, smoothed his hair and clothing to try to look less like he had just run at mach ten both up and down four flights of stairs in the last ten minutes, and strode pseudo-calmly through the lobby and out to the car.