Close Encounters 7: Live and Let Die


for Jessie
because I don't think she would really die
but you never know


The lights were out now and the night had fallen darkly over the streets of New York. Castle moved silently through the motel room, checking the windows once more, the door. Kate had given up on him and gone to bed, but he prowled the suite until exhaustion began to dig its nails into his back.

There was nothing left to do. He tapped his gun against his thigh and moved to the window once more. The blackout curtains kept anyone from seeing inside, but it also prevented Castle from looking out. Still, he slid one panel to the side and watched the street until the tension in his shoulders became unbearable.

They had everything packed for tomorrow, but the move wasn't schedule until six, when most of her friends from the 12th would finally be off work. The sun would be setting then as well, and the long shadows and encroaching night would blur their features from any watchful eyes.

Still he couldn't sleep.

He hadn't returned the Director's call.

And he wasn't going to.

He needed more time.


She watched him in the waning light that spilled in through the open front door. Their open front door.

He settled the box on top of a stack of them in the entryway and put his hands on his hips, his head tilting as he studied her. Kate couldn't see the details of his face, the way the light backlit him, but she almost could feel the soft smile, the tenderness there. The golden man.

He reached out and caught her hip, tugged her into him with a jerk that had her stuttering across the wooden floor and into his body. He smelled of sweat and sunshine and she leaned in to press her mouth to his neck.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he murmured to her, a hand coming into her hair and tangling. "You like it?"

"Love it," she breathed out.

When she lifted her head, she was close enough to see the pride in his face, the little boy pleasure at having gotten her a gift. She bit her lip and smiled back at him, cupped his cheek and scratched her nails along the five o'clock shadow.

"Hey, baby," she murmured. "You got the last of it?"

"Yeah. Last box. Boys still here?"

"Mm, whole crowd of them trying to make your illegal satellite tv work. I promised pizza," she answered. Her fingers trailed down his arm and snagged his hand; she leaned past him to shut the front door and then tugged him after her towards the kitchen.

"Pizza sounds good," he offered. "You have cash on you?"

Kate shook her head. "Was going to do it online-"

"No," he said quickly and she glanced back at him. She shouldn't be so surprised, not anymore; it should be second nature to her now, all the things he didn't want them to do. She could handle his paranoia; she could.

"Okay," she said slowly. "No online ordering. Got it. I can call?"

His lips pressed flat and his eyes went dark. "It gives them our address. There's a place a couple blocks over, right? I can just go for carry out."

So she was never allowed to order in pizza?

His hand squeezed in hers and she glanced down at their laced fingers, his strong forearms and the dusting of hair and freckles.

Okay. No pizza.

Not so hard.

"Get five or six," she said quietly. She cleared her throat and lifted her head to his gaze, saw the worry laced with a firmness that meant he wouldn't back down on this. He thought he was keeping them safe. And maybe he was.

"Five or six. All kinds?" he said.

She nodded and raised their joined hands, pressed them between their bodies as she lifted up on her toes. He seemed surprised by the kiss, and his hand startled to her hip, held her there. Kate took a breath and then nudged him away.

"Go get pizza. Gotta feed our boys."

He grinned back and that pleased pride was on his face again, sweet and almost shy. "I'll be back in thirty."

She let him go, watching him snake through the stacks of boxes towards the front door again. He plucked a key from the entry table and held it up to her, a little smirk, and then he disappeared out the front door.

She stood in their new home, her heart leaning after him, until the raucous noise of the officers and detectives from the 12th pulled her back to the present.


The Range Rover was too conspicuous. More than he'd realized. They'd have to get a new car; vehicles that his father hadn't seen. Her Crown Vic - maybe he could sneak an upgrade if she was still set on going back to the 12th. The Chargers were government issued and the CIA had a contract with Ford; he'd contact the new Captain and get to work on that.

Castle made a mental note as he drove, his eyes on the road. He had a long list of things they needed to do to maintain as much anonymity as they could. He was tired of feeling like they were looking out into the abyss, but the lists and the alertness and the constant checking and rechecking - it made him believe he could keep them from the edge.

The pizza place Kate had mentioned was only a few blocks up, but he drove nearer to Central Park and picked a place he'd never been before but had heard good things from the boys. He parked in a garage and walked back two blocks, stepped into the old-fashioned restaurant.

The smell of cheese and sauce, Italian herbs and meatballs made his mouth water and his stomach cramp with hunger. He'd been going for so long now that he hadn't stopped to really live, and the pizza was reminding him. The pizza was like Kate's waffles and syrup - completely frivolous, empty calories - but so much fun.

Something of that perpetual unease shifted in his chest and he caught a deeper breath, felt the butter and garlic fill up his lungs.

It wasn't the regimen or the training he was used to, it wasn't the strict diet that always conditioned him - it was pizza and the warmth of the ovens and the knowledge that his wife was safe in their new home, surrounded by a dozen guys from the NYPD.

The knowledge that he could stop and take a moment to actually be present, here and now, in this new life they were carving out for themselves.

No matter who was out there, no matter the messiness of the last six months or the responsibilities of the job waiting for him, no matter that Bracken was an unknown entity, that his father was somewhere beyond Castle's reach-

Tonight he had a house: a dog getting underfoot and barking at the police officers stomping through her territory, a satellite television that the boys were trying to hook up, a box spring and mattress that Esposito had sarcastically refused to touch, and most importantly-

a wife.

Kate was there. And he wanted to get home to her, start really living.


The boys burst into laughter and she rolled her eyes, punched Esposito hard on the shoulder.

"None of your business," she muttered.

LT was even chuckling, and they almost never got a reaction out of him. Beckett shoulder bumped Ryan and nodded for the kitchen; he followed her out of the living room while the rest of the guys from the 12th kept at the effort.

"You don't think they'll actually get porn, do you?" Ryan asked.

She shook her head at him. "Ryan."

"Yeah, yeah, no. Probably not."

"Castle got the satellite routed through the Office; I really doubt there's porn."

"No way. They can do that?"

She smirked and shrugged at him, moved to a box sitting on the kitchen counter. "Sort of. It's more complicated than that, but it goes through a company. That way our names aren't on it. That's how we hooked up the utilities too."

Ryan blinked at her and she gestured towards the boxes.

"Help me find paper plates and stuff. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he murmured, reaching automatically for a box.

She bit her bottom lip at the look on his face and sorted through the stuff piled up. She hadn't packed any of the kitchen stuff because it was mostly brand new or things from Castle's old place; hers were incinerated in the bomb. Castle hadn't wanted either of them to go back to his apartment, so he'd sent a team to do it. Who knew what she'd find.

"Ryan, you okay with this?" she asked finally.

He jerked his head up and his eyes were still far away with wonder. "Okay with what? Mom and Dad shacking up?"

She huffed, a laugh on her breath. "Mom and Dad?"

"Esposito started it."

"Uh-huh. You do know we're married, right?"

"Like. . .really married? Or cover married? Or like, married in secret spy land?"

She lifted an eyebrow, but he wasn't backing down. She realized it was probably his way of vetting the whole thing, protecting her. And it was sweet; they were her boys.

"Filed with the city of New York about three months back, Kev. It's real."

"Huh."

"What else you need to know?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest so they could get on with it. "I'm not supposed to give out details - clearance is above your head - but I'll tell you guys some."

Ryan tossed her a sour look for her teasing and shrugged, pulled out a stack of paper cups in plastic. She took them from him and set them aside, but he kept going through the box.

And then it came out. "He's for real, though? This is real to him."

"This is real to us," she said quietly.

Ryan lifted his head to meet her gaze and studied her for a moment, then he nodded. "Let's find those paper plates."

She gave a little breath and glanced down, only to hear a phone ring nearby. A ringtone that seemed familiar.

She frowned and hunted among the boxes, realized it was coming from the dining room just off the open kitchen. She could still see the guys from the 12th working on the television and the entertainment center that Castle had bought, but none of them were reaching for their phones.

And then she saw it on the dining room table, just beside a stack of boxes.

Castle had left his cell phone.

She picked it up and checked the ID.

Blocked number.

Shit. Should she answer it? Maybe it was something to do with the satellite? He'd said they were supposed to have installed it earlier this afternoon but maybe that was why the boys couldn't get it to work.

She had to unlock the phone to answer it - his iphone model was Siri-less, which always made her feel so incognito, and the settings were different, jail broken by the CIA. He could require the passcode for every action; the phone was Fort Knox.

"Hello?" she answered, breathless. If this was some kind of mission. . .but maybe he'd just called his own phone from the pizza place to see where it was.

"Who is this?" a voice growled.

She debated answering for a long moment.

"Answer me. Who are you and why are you on this line?"

Oh, oh, she knew that voice. Fuck. His boss. "Sir. This is Detec - ah, Kate Beckett."

"Oh. Beckett. Yes. Beckett from the NYPD's 12th Precinct. You've been working with Richard. I see spousal privilege extends quite far."

"I apologize for answering. I was afraid it was important."

"And Richard isn't there to answer it? You have him tied up, I suppose."

She choked and her eyes widened, and then she heard the bark of laughter on the other end.

"Forgive me, Beckett. I meant - ah, in the way of your new home."

She froze, her fingers gripping the phone. Castle had said he kept this information purposefully away from the CIA.

"Don't worry," the Director said softly. "My eyes only. Some things have to be approved somewhere. Your husband and I go way back."

She just hoped the Director didn't also go way back with Agent Black. "Yes, sir. I - suppose you could say he's tied up. Yes. I shouldn't have answered his phone-"

"Actually, I'm pleased you did. I haven't been getting through to him."

"Oh?" She blinked and half-turned back to the kitchen, her eyes sightless. Castle hadn't been taking phone calls from the Director of the CIA? Why?

"Well, please pass along the message that I hope he deigns to call me back."

"Of course. Yes," she said quickly.

"Have a pleasant evening, Detective Beckett. I've heard rumors that you're to consult with us. I hope to see you in a few weeks' time."

And then the man hung up before she could deny the rumors.

Or confirm.

She still didn't know which.


When Castle pulled up to their street, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. The lights were on in deference to the darkness of the evening, and he could almost hear the loud, unruly crowd in their living room right now. The day had gone well, their home was in sight, and he was letting himself come down from that adrenaline-fueled hyper-awareness that had wound him tightly for months.

He grabbed the pizzas from the back seat and slammed the door shut; he'd taken the Range Rover when he'd left the CIA because the GPS was deactivated, initially the safest vehicle for him. He had to trust that it would service for now. Because he was both Rick Rodgers, a UN lackey, and Richard Castle, a CIA agent on leave - and while only a few knew that one was a cover, he still found that the line was so easy to blur.

He wasn't going to let Kate be the cover; it wouldn't happen to them. She'd always known the heart of him, but he was fighting his instincts on this to keep her informed. He'd have to tell her about the vehicles, have to let her know it was important that she switch cars.

With that in mind, Castle unlocked the front door and shut it after him, dropped the key to the entryway table. Her idea, that table. Dark wood, two doors in a faintly Oriental design, and sometime while he'd been gone, she'd placed one of her elephant statues on it. He grinned to himself at the little touch she'd already added and slipped the keyring over the elephant's upraised trunk, let it dangle there.

"Rick?"

He carried the pizzas towards the sound of her voice, saw her standing in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room, her hands propped in the doorframe. She was gorgeous - hair pulled back with the loose strands curling at her cheeks, her trademark white t-shirt giving him just a hint of cleavage, jeans hugging her hips and elongating her legs.

"Hey there," she murmured, taking the pizzas from him with a concerned look on her face. "Took you long enough; we're starving." She hesitated and her eyebrows knit. "You left your phone here."

"Oh, oops." But something in her voice made him study her. "Sorry. Did you try to call me?"

A breath released. "Yeah," she shrugged. "I did."

He frowned but she was already turning around, heading back for the kitchen. He followed her and saw that all of the guys were still there, awaiting the promised dinner. Esposito gave him a short head nod - their bad blood had somewhat settled out since the man had punched him - but Ryan stood and gave him a handshake.

"Hey, man, thanks for getting pizza."

"No problem. Thanks for helping us move." He hadn't trusted moving companies; he hadn't wanted anyone to know where he and Kate had moved to, hadn't wanted to expose them like that. The guys from the 12th had done all the heavy lifting and they'd borrowed a van from the Office.

"No sweat. Or actually, a lot of sweat. Hey, Beckett-" Ryan turned and headed for the fridge. "The water cold yet?"

"I stuck it in an hour ago. Should be."

Castle watched her hand out paper plates to the guys, taking their teasing good-naturedly, smiling at them, teasing back. Ryan passed out bottles of water and Esposito started opening pizza boxes. Even the dog was in on the fun, threading through people's legs and snapping fallen bites from the floor. The team attacked dinner, and Castle stood back, simply observed.

Suddenly Kate was standing in front of him, pressing her hips to his. "Hey, there. Why so quiet?"

He gave her a smile, slid his hands into the back pockets of her jeans to keep her close. "Just watching. Afraid they might snap my hand off if I tried to get in there."

She grinned and rolled her hips against his, then she was gone, slipping out of his grasp to grab another paper plate. He took the one she was offering and got into line behind her, snagged a piece of meat lovers for himself. She dropped a slice of pineapple and ham onto his plate as well as her own, smirking.

"Just try it."

And he would. For her.

Waffles and syrup, right?


When the boys had left, Kate made Castle take her through the security system, step by step until she had it memorized and could arm and disarm each section. They sat on the floor in the upstairs hallway, their backs to the wall, Sasha with her head on Castle's thigh, and Kate tapped out the clearance code on her phone.

The panel just across the hall blinked green, meaning it was armed, and Kate grinned at him. The dog's tail wagged.

"You're a pro," Castle murmured, nudging his knee into hers.

She hadn't brought up the fact that the Director had called, and she wasn't sure she should. If he was avoiding the man, then he could say in all honesty that his wife hadn't passed along the message.

If he was avoiding the Director, what did that mean? He didn't want to be in the CIA? He was hoping to get out of it? She just didn't know.

Kate tapped in the code once more, and the light flashed orange, the security system disabled again. "Windows, motion sensors, anything else?"

"Panic room," he said in a dry rumble, suddenly getting to his feet. He held his hand out for her and she took it, let him haul her up. She grinned at his too-serious look, pressed a kiss to his jaw, teeth scraping.

"Panic room?" she nudged. Sasha nosed between them, and Kate lowered her hand to comb through the dog's fur.

He skated his fingers down the inside of her arm and laced their fingers together, drew her away from the dog. "Downstairs. Last stop."

She followed him down the hall and took the stairs two at a time, their hands clasped, dog at their heels. The furniture wasn't exactly as she wanted it, they still had boxes piled in every room, but it was already their home. The narrow windows were capped with stained glass at the top in geometric designs; the dark wood and the blue walls echoed serenity.

Kate stepped onto the first floor with Castle, the black night outside not able to pierce the warmth of their living room. They had lamps blazing and the kitchen light was on as well; he took her across the tile floor, around the breakfast nook to the basement door.

Sasha went to her bowl and lapped at the water, nudged her nose at the empty food dish. Castle paused, but Kate tugged him forward.

"Panic room?" she asked. Last she'd known, it was a long flight down to a cellar.

"Yeah," he nodded and opened the door. The dog pushed past them and went on ahead into the darkness. Kate reached in and flipped on the lights, led the way down the rickety stairs.

Not rickety anymore. "When did you do all this?"

"Over the last few months," he said quietly. "While you were working out everything with the NYPD."

She wriggled her fingers in his as they went down the stairs and when they got to the dusty cement floor, she realized it'd been cleaned and redone. The far wall had come in about five feet and it was solid metal. Castle was smirking in the bare bulb, already pulling her towards the door.

"Code to enter is your badge number," he remarked. "But we need to change that."

She nodded. "Too easy. I'll think of something."

"Right." He punched in the code on the touch panel and the door hissed as the lock released. She reached out and the door was lighter than she expected; it opened easily.

The room was five by eight, the length of the cellar below their house. A double-wide cot was set up in one corner, but a whole arsenal took up the far wall. Kate choked on a laugh and turned to Castle, untangling their fingers to cup his cheek.

"Sweetheart, this is. . .extreme."

"Better safe than sorry."

She stepped inside first, knowing somehow that he needed it as a symbolic gesture that she was in this no matter what. That even a panic room outfitted with AK-47s and Desert Eagles and - jeez, throwing stars? - couldn't drive her away.

"Any food in here?" she murmured.

"Yeah, look." He moved past her and opened a trunk at the base of the cot, displaying a range of freeze-dried army kits. Not especially tasty, but it would work. She moved around him in the small space and trailed her fingers over the wall. Sasha had come in after them and bounded up onto the cot, settling down easily.

"What else?"

Castle sank down on the bed with Sasha, scraped his fingers through the fringe of reddish fur. "We can control security through here. There are a few measures we can take to defend the room."

"What do you envision for this?" she said softly, her fingers playing over a selection of knives. "What do you see happening?"

"If someone comes for my family-" He shrugged.

She lifted her head, couldn't help the image that crowded her in this small space: their family pressed shoulder to shoulder on the cot, the dog keeping the little ones calm, withstanding the storm outside. Having to make sure no one touched anything. Jeez.

That she could imagine their kids inside this room was both horrific and reassuring at the same time. That the picture was so real, so firm in her mind, meant something for them that she couldn't understand.

Kate moved towards him, stepping between his knees and hooking her arms around his neck. He lifted his head then and she saw the fierceness in his eyes, the way he was willing to defend them.

"You promise you're in here with us?" she murmured. She ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, cradled his head. "You promise you're inside this room when the door shuts?"

"I'm inside this room," he said solemnly. "I promise you, Kate."

She leaned in to kiss him, her thumbs stroking his cheeks, his lips satin and willing and warm. He wrapped his arms around her and tugged; she fell into him, put her knees to either side of his hips and sank down on his lap.

Castle groaned into her mouth, hands clutching her waist. "Kate," he panted.

"I like it when you promise me things," she murmured, rolling her hips into him.

His hands snaked up her thighs and lifted her shirt, pulled it up and over her head. She grinned and tossed her hair out of the way, sealed her mouth over his in a promise of her own.