Title: Damn Right
Summary: Esposito has gone undercover before. Beckett/Esposito (slightly past platonic). Very quick. Don't shun me, fandom. I love you all.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights for the characters and the world go to their owners. I, in no way, believe – or would lead others to believe – that I own Castle. Though, I would have no objections to having some time with this cast.
Author's Note: Kick some ballistics and review y'all. I've had this idea for a while, but tonight's Esposito moment just cemented my need to write it out. This style is different than my other work. It's supposed to be in Esposito's voice; can you tell?
damn right | esposito&beckett
Esposito basically has a role he plays when he goes undercover. He's the set up. It's his thing. Sometimes, it works out better than others. This case, he succeeded. He kicked ass as that gangster college kid. Really, the bodyguard was nothing but a few flexes and a smug grin away from being on the ground. Espo could have taken him in a minute. But he didn't. Because when Espo goes undercover, he does it right. Just like that first time back in the early days of Homicide at the Twelfth.
There was this guy - Patrick Flannirr. Now Flannirr was a guy who prayed on women. He lurked around restaurants with random dates he never cared about. He would watch all the other women there until he found one who wasn't looking so happy with her guy of choice. Then, when she walked away to go the ladies' room, he would knock her out for later. A little dessert after his main course with whatever chick he had picked up in the grocery aisle. Normally, his dessert was the usual - sweet for the guy and regrettably unforgettable for the girl. He got carried away one night and wound up with a dead girl on his hands, Melanie Winke. Melanie's case wound up in Beckett's lap early into her first year as a detective. After figuring out it was Flannirr, she didn't just want to book him for murder, but for every other girl he had tried it on. So they went undercover. That's when it got fun.
You might not think it, but Beckett cleaned up nice. No, that was an understatement. Beckett cleaned up like the mother-loving city of Atlantis. She was flawless. Pristine. And completely untouchable.
The plan was for Espo and Beckett to get dinner in the restaurant. She would storm away and Flannirr would follow her. They'd catch him red-handed when he tried to knock her out. Espo doubted how successful it would be until he went to pick her up from her place and she stepped out looking like some sort of fantasy girl. Her hair was still long back then. It fell in those perfect soft curls, framing her face perfectly. She traded in the turtlenecks and button ups for a dress that cut at the knees. Her heels hadn't changed, which made it seem all the more real. She was still Beckett. Still his boss. But she was also kind of his date.
The first twenty minutes were awkward. Business-like. It fit. It made them look like they were any other couple on a bad first date. Eventually, he told her that she might as well lighten up because no one wanted to screw a stick in the mud. She made some smart ass remark about her personality not mattering when she looked the way she did. He wanted to deny it, but - well - yeah.
After a while, they got Flannirr's attention. Once he was watching, Beckett hissed, "Okay, come on to me. Hard." Espo had laughed at her wildly. Her eyes narrowed at his immaturity. He used it as an opportunity to grab her hand. It was softer than he expected. Did she moisturize? She looked away from him, but he saw the hint of her own smile.
He kept pushing it, running his hand up and down her arm. Wagging his eyebrows for the real douchebag effect. Flannirr got up to the go to the bathroom. Kate's eyes widened; it was go time. So he swallowed down every part of him telling him how screwed he would be for work the next day and surged across the table. He took her in a ferocious kiss, sweltering, intoxicating, powerful. It didn't last long. Few seconds at most. Beckett let out this sound, kind of like a whimper that didn't fully mature. Then she was far back in her seat. Then she was just gone, off for the bathroom. Espo didn't even have to look to know that Flannirr was right behind her. He got up himself, headed after them both.
By the time he got to the hall with the bathrooms, no one was there. He checked the ladies room, but that was empty too. He pushed open the mens. Flannirr had Beckett backed against a wall. She looked so helpless for a second until she saw Esposito.
Flannirr raged. Scoffed "Can you believe this slut?" as if they could just laugh off the fact that he had her cornered with no way out. They could. Well, Espo and Beckett could, all the way to the precinct.
"That slut is a detective with the NYPD," Esposito told him. Flannirr's eyes bulged. He stuttered and whipped to look at Beckett. She had her badge out, displayed proudly for the son of a bitch to see.
"If she's NYPD, who are you? Her bitch?" Flannirr asked him.
Beckett shook her head. "No, but you'll get to be."
Esposito grinned as he slapped cuffs on Flannirr. He said, "Don't worry, bro. She's harmless. The real problem are gonna be your inmates. They're a real hoot. Just the other day, this old guy stabbed some dude with his whittled down glasses for stinking up the air. Can you believe that?"
Beckett just rolled her eyes at him. Their gazes met. She had all sorts of questions like did this change anything? or what do we do now? But he just shrugged 'em off. The kiss was nothing. It was just the set up to catch this guy. They were undercover and, when Espo goes undercover, well, he does it right. And if that little whimper was anything to go be, he does it damn right.
Any thoughts? Another one hour fic.