renrenren3 | FIC * Rules pt2 * Castle * Castle/Beckett

I promise next time I'll post the fanfic in the fanfic journal, I just need to have all of this in the same place. Also lol I mauled my own mother tongue on the basis that the show would get it wrong because they're terrible with foreign languages.

MOAR CASTLE/BECKETT. MOAR SHENANIGANS. IT ISN'T OVER YET.

Rule Number Four: don't get close to Castle. Just don't.

Giuliani catches them as they're leaving the dance floor.

"A spectacular performance," he says, clapping slowly. "Richard, I don't think I've met your lovely date? She looked like a fairy dancing under the stars. Una fata, ballando sotto le stelle, as we say in Italy."

Beckett doesn't like this man. But then again he's a murder suspect and he's been doing his best to hinder the investigation. She forces herself to smile.

Next to her, Castle beams. "Of course, how could I forget to introduce you!" he says. "Kate, this is Mr Ettore Giuliani, whose hospitality we're currently enjoying. Mr Giuliani, this is my muse, Kate Beckett."

"Miss Beckett," Giuliani says. "I hope you're having a good time." He doesn't seem to know she's a cop. Beckett allows herself a small smile as she shakes hands with her prime suspect.

"Thank you. I've heard a lot about you," she says.

"Kate is a little tired from all the waltzing," Castle puts in, putting one arm around her. She's about to complain, but Castle shushes her. "I know you are," he tells her with mock concern. "Maybe we should go somewhere quiet, dear, and let you catch your breath..."

He's a lousy actor and Beckett almost winces at the "dear", but Giuliani nods amiably as they leave the room.

Beckett almost can't believe that she's finally able to get away from the party and search the house. Castle looks really happy with himself, and for once Beckett decides to cut him some slack. "Thank you," she whispers once they're away from the other guests, squeezing his arm. "You can let go now."

The writer steps back and looks up and down the corridor like an overexcited puppy. "Where do you want to look first? In his studio? I'm sure he's got a secret lair hidden behind the portrait in his studio!"

"Nobody has a secret lair behind the portrait in the studio. I doubt he even has a portrait in his studio."

"He does," Castle replies. (Figures.) "We can look behind it if you'd like."

At that, she can't help but roll her eyes. "Castle, do I need to remind you the meaning of in plain view? I can't go snooping among his stuff, unless I stumble into something lying around..."

But Castle isn't listening to her, and is already rushing away towards the far end of the corridor.

She catches up to him at the door of what looks like Giuliani's studio. There is a huge mahogany desk, and behind it a rather ugly oil portrait of the man himself. Everything is neat and spotless. She doubts they'll be able to find anything. "Castle, what are you doing?" she asks.

"Snooping around," he says, nonchalantly turning the door handle. It's open. "You can't, but I'm just a plain citizen. If hypothetically I am to find something, and if hypothetically I am to leave it lying around in plain view, and if hypothetically you are to see it..."

He looks very pleased with himself. Beckett realizes that this must have been his plan all along. "I don't like it," she begins to say, but she trails off when she hears footsteps approaching. "Quick, don't let them see us," she says, pushing Castle inside and closing the door behind the two of them.

She hopes that whoever it was would cross the corridor and leave, but to her horror the footsteps stopped in front of the door and she hears Giuliani's voice.

"Giuliani!" Castle mouths to her, rather unnecessarily. He looks around, searching for hiding places. She grabs him by the elbow before he can crawl under the desk.

Beckett jerks her head towards a door half-hidden by a green drape. "In there," she whispers. The key is in the lock, thankfully, and they both hurry into the other room.

It seems to be Giuliani's bedroom, but unlike the studio it's a complete mess. There's clothes strewn around and books with torn pages and a pile of papers scattered on the bed and. She only needs a glance to find out that, never mind this murder, they could have Giuliani for racketeering and drug dealing and a whole lot of crimes.

"Castle," she says, but the writer shushes her and grabs her by the shoulders. Before she's able to ask him what he's doing, he's pushed her towards a closet and has climbed in after her. He slams the door shut, and almost immediately the bedroom door opens.

"Did you hear anything?" says the voice of Giuliani, and Beckett's heart skips a beat. She holds her breath, pressed between Castle and what's probably a suit from one of the best tailors in New York.

"Must have been the window," replies a voice that Beckett recognizes from many fruitless phone calls as Giuliani's lawyer. "You were careless to leave all of this lying around."

"I didn't have much of a choice, with the house being turned upside down for the party and the police badgering me," Giuliani replies, testily.

The lawyer chuckles. "We took care of that," he says. "And of everything else."

She's not as lucky as to hear a full confession from them, that would be too perfect and only happens in Castle's books, but this is nearly as good. Once Giuliani and the lawyer leave, Beckett counts to fifty in her mind and then allows herself a sigh. Her shoulders have been hunched in an unnatural position in the tight space, and her dress has started to slip. When she tries to move, she steps on Castle's foot.

"Ouch," Castle says, and bumps against her nose as he tries to bend down.

"Let's get out of here," Beckett says, holding a hand protectively in front of her nose and the other on the front of her dress. "I've heard enough, I want the police here before they try to destroy any evidence."

"Good idea," Castle says.

That's when they find out that there's no door handles on the inside of the closet, and they're stuck inside. And Beckett's dress is threatening to fall apart.