306. Chapter 306

After Kill the Messenger

Episode 2.08

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Don't kill me! I do NOT own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above

Kate sat at her computer, finishing her report on the murders of Caleb Shimanski and Olivia Debiasse. The murder of Brady Thompson was not in their jurisdiction. She glanced over at Castle, surprised that he was still there. He isn't offering to help with the paperwork. That's probably a good thing. A police report from Richard Castle would probably be the finest purple prose he could manage. She tried to imagine how his report would read. "It was a dark and stormy night…" She stopped. She definitely did not want to go there. But why is he still here? When Jeff Dilahunt asked if we were together, he said, "Not yet." That's the first time he's ever said anything that suggested he had any interest in me as anything other than his muse or a possible conquest. Kate sighed. I know what Castle is like and what he's after and it's not what I'm after. It's odd, but I'll miss him when he's gone. He's a good partner and something of a friend. One of those bizarre, crazy friends that you wonder why you remain friends with. And he will go. I'm not after a good time and then nothing. Once Castle figures that out, he'll be gone. Unless…No! Absolutely not! I will not be another one of his conquests! I have to stop thinking about this.

"At least Blake Wellesley did something to make up for what his family did. The twenty million he donated to the charity that'll treat Brady Anderson's son." Kate said, mentally changing the subject.

Castle shook his head. "Actually, the money is coming from one of the Wellesley family charitable foundations, not from Blake Wellesley personally. But, then Blake could have donated twenty million personally and not even noticed it. And, the publicity will do his senatorial campaign a world of good. I'm sure his campaign will do everything in its power to focus on the gift and not the reason behind it."

Kate stared at Castle for a few seconds. "So, what happened to you?"

Castle smirked. "Nothing. I just keep getting better and better."

"I should have known better than to ask you a serious question." Kate went back to her computer.

"Ah! You have a serious question, do you, Detective Beckett? Then ask away. I do do serious, you know."

"Yeah. Seriously bizarre." Beckett shot back.

"Please." Castle said, trying to look as serious as he could. "Ask me a serious question."

Kate looked at him and sighed. "You're rich, but you're nothing like the Wellesleys. I absolutely cannot imagine even one Wellesley coming down to the precinct to help catch murderers as you do. Even if you do get books out of it. They'd never want to mix with us. At the risk of seriously over inflating your ego, you're a hell of a lot better man than any of the Wellesleys. In fact I'd say you're better than the whole damned, oh-so-superior lot of them."

"That's only a minor inflation of my ego, Beckett. I've seen the Wellesleys up close and way too personal. Being better than them is one of my more minor accomplishments. In fact, you're a better man than all of the Wellesleys."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Castle, in case you haven't noticed, I couldn't pass the physical to be a better man that the Wellesleys."

"I have most definitely noticed, Beckett. But yet, you are a better man than them." Castle went on before Kate could argue. "To answer your question, those who are rich from birth can, and often do, develop a sense of entitlement. Their whole lives they're surrounded by people who want to do things for them. For instance, at school you had to work hard to get good grades. Or in my case, to barely pass. But, if you're teaching Mr. and Mrs. Billionaire's little terror, the Billionaires expect you to do something to get little Billionaire, Jr. into an acceptable school at any costs. So, Billionaire, Jr., finds out that teachers aren't there to make him learn, but to help him to get something he really didn't deserve."

"And you?"

"I had a rather Bohemian childhood, Beckett. We were sometimes poor and sometimes, yes, I'll say, we were rich. When I was in grammar school, about age nine, I believe, Martha couldn't get a job as an actress. Nothing. No matter how hard she tried, she found no parts. She even had trouble getting jobs through the temp agency she went to. Martha Rodgers is not a file clerk, a secretary or a receptionist, I'm afraid, but she worked hard at those jobs. One time she took the bus to Boston to audition for a play, leaving me with a make-up artist she was friends with. I had so much fun being made up to look like a vampire or an old man, or…Well, that's not the point. She got to Boston and the male lead loved her, the director loved her, the producer loved her. She all but had the part when the financial angel who was behind the play arrived. Mom had once refused to sleep with him to get another role. He refused to consider her for the part."

"I hope the play folded after one night and he lost his shirt." Kate said.

Castle grimaced. "The play ran on Broadway for four years. It made a ton of money. No good deed goes unpunished, Beckett."

"But she did get parts after that?"

"A month later we were about finished. We were staying with a friend of her's who already had three friends staying in her one bedroom apartment. We had no food and she had three days to go before her paycheck as a file clerk arrived. Then, there was a knock on the door and a director she knew came in and said he'd been looking all over Manhattan for her for days. He had a great part for her. Could she start today? In a week we had a nice three bedroom apartment and we ate out at the best restaurants for a week, breakfast, lunch and dinner. The moral of this little story is that I learned at a very young age that the world did not exist for my convenience. And, I've managed to keep that in mind all these years, and to teach it to Alexis."

"You're quite a father, Castle. You've done well."

"Why, thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Kate went back to her computer, then looked back at Castle. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Is it serious?"

"Yes."

"Well of course it is. What other kind of question would you ask me? Ask away."

"Why are you still here? All that's left is boring police paperwork. That's not your style."

"Research." Castle said briskly.

"Research? You need to know how a detective types a report on a computer? Really?"

"I need to know how Nikki Heat types one. While you have an admirable poker face otherwise, you let your emotions show when you type the reports. I can tell a lot about what you're writing by your facial expressions." Plus I can't just tell you that I really enjoy just being with you, even if I'm just watching you type.

Kate nodded. I didn't know that about myself. I'll have to be more careful. She went back to her report.

Meanwhile in Washington, D.C….

"Sir, good news from New York."

William Bracken looked up. "What?"

"We got to Frank Davis. The Wellesleys thought they had enough money to keep him quiet about all of the many Wellesley family secrets, but we have both money and he ability to make his time in prison either tolerable or pure hell. After Lenanne Wellesley gave him to the cops, he was no trouble at all."

Bracken smiled coldly. "Good. Make sure that all of the Wellesleys' dirty laundry gets aired. I do not need a rival in the Senate who's wealthy enough to ignore me. Blake Wellseley is too independent for my liking."

"I'll keep on it, sir."

Senator William Bracken went back to plotting his inevitable rise to absolute power.