90. Chapter 90

After Last Call, Again

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: For the last time, I own no Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

Author's note: Another one. See Chapter 23.

"Irish whiskey is the best there is." Kevin Ryan said decisively. "There is none better."

Esposito laughed. "Sure, for you pale, white boys, maybe. But real men drink rum."

Everyone turned to look at Captain Montgomery. He cleared his throat and looked very solemn. "Speaking as someone with a great deal of experience in the matter of alcoholic beverages, more experience than anyone here, I can only bow to Castle's wisdom. The best drink is one that someone else pays for. "

Everyone laughs and nods appreciatively to Castle.

"What about you, Beckett?" He asks.

"Beckett shrugs. "It depends. After a long, hot day, there's nothing like a cold beer. For a quiet night at home, red wine. For a party with friends, a glass of chilled white wine. And for a night at the Old Haunt…Whatever Castle's paying for."

That brought another round of laughter.

Castle nodded. "All well and good, but I ask you to look at the great men of history, starting with our own mayor, Beau James. What did he drink? The very finest Scotch, as we can taste from this bottle." He tapped the bottle of St. Miriam's before them. "Winston Churchill? Oh, he was known to have the occasional tipple of brandy, but deep down he was a Scotch whisky drinker. And, of course, the most famous Scotch drinker of all…Richard Castle."

That brought a chorus of enthusiastic boos which Castle accepted with a smile. "So, now that you've had your first glass of St. Miriam's, what do you think of it?"

Everyone agreed it was an excellent drink, which made Castle smile proudly. He was interrupted by Brian the bartender.

"Mr. Castle?"

He turned around. "Please, Brian, call me Rick. What do you need?"

"I told you that the beer distributor's truck will be by tomorrow morning? You said you'd sign the check for them tonight before you left?"

Castle nodded. "So I did. I'll go down to the office and do that right now."

"No need. I have the check all made out, it's over by the bar. All you have to do is sign it. I can bring it over to you."

Castle stood up. "No need. I'll sign it for you."

Castle excused himself and walked over to the bar with Ryan. He signed the check, but then walked over to where his picture hung on the wall. He stared at his younger self. Those were the days. He thought. I had my whole life in front of me. The sky was the limit. Kyra and I were going to…he stopped. Maybe these are the days. I have Alexis, who is the center of my world. I'm not just a writer anymore, I've actually done something with my life to make the world a better place. There are still rocky parts, especially where…"

"You just can't stop staring at your picture, can you?" Kate Beckett interrupted him. "Perhaps you should have it blown up and put over the bar?"

Castle turned around to face her. She just can't resist getting a dig in, can she? She couldn't even wait until I got back to the table. She had to walk over here. He thought. "No, actually it'll stay here. This is where it's always been, so this is where it stays." Before Beckett could reply, he moved past her. "I have a few things to do in the office." He called to the bartender. "Brian, can you open the downstairs office, please?"

Once at his desk, Castle found he really had nothing to do. He looked through some old newspaper clippings about the Old Haunt, remembering the glory days. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs. From their sound, he knew it was Beckett. She stopped in front of his desk.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No. I invited you over for a drink. You had a drink. That was all that was expected of you."

Beckett looked at him and started to take a step back to the stairs, then stopped. Dammit! He's acting like me. I tell people that there's nothing wrong when there is. And I get upset when people call me on it and say there is something wrong and ask me what it is. I should just walk back upstairs. But somehow her feet didn't move. "Castle, we know each other too well by now. If I did something wrong, tell me. If there's something wrong that has nothing to do with me, tell me. If there's something wrong that's none of my business, tell me and I'll go away. But don't tell me there's nothing wrong when I can see that there is."

Castle sat and looked at her for a long minute. "I just get a little tired of the attitude, Beckett, that's all."

"The attitude? My attitude?"

"Yeah. It's like you keep score. Oh, wait, I've said something nice to Castle today. I need to say something about his ego. Or his ex-wives. Or the book he wrote about me. But I have to say something. I have to keep the score even."

Beckett glared at Castle. "Fine! I'm not the easiest person to get to know. And I do keep people at arms- length because one of the two people I cared more about than anyone else in the world was murdered and that has hurt me. Hurt me every day since I was nineteen. And it's not like your ego isn't the biggest target around, Castle." And if I don't push you away, you'll have my heart and then you'll break it again. Beckett turned around and headed for the stairs, trying not to start crying while still with Castle.

"Beckett, I'm sorry." Castle called after her. He shot out of his chair and went after her. She had stopped at the foot of the stairs. He stood a few feet behind her. "I'm sorry. I have no right to criticize you. I know what you've been through." And I'd do anything in the world to make the pain go away. He added to himself.

Beckett shook her head. She turned around, and not wanting Castle to see that she was nearly crying, put her head down, her hair just barely touching his chest. "You're wrong. You have every right to criticize me. I'm your partner and your friend. If I do something that bothers you, you should tell me about it. That doesn't mean I'll change how I do things, but in this case you're right. I am too critical of you. I'm sorry." I just hope I can stop criticizing you and not end up a heart broken mess. She thought.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Okay, we're both sorry. How about I buy you a drink?"

She smiled and looked at him, now dry eyed. "They've probably finished your bottle of Scotch by now."

"We're in a bar, Beckett. I'm sure we can find something." They began to walk up the stairs together.

"How about a glass of chilled white wine, Castle?"