Castle was disappointed to discover that he wasn’t the type of best-selling writer Agent Bering finds attractive.
Myka might have been mad at herself for her momentary lapse in professionalism, but if Det. Beckett’s earlier expression was anything to go by…Castle got under everyone’s skin. It was almost too rewarding to watch the (ok, Myka could admit it to herself, even if she’d die before saying it outloud) ruggedly handsome writer struggle with that particular bit of information. What was it with guys and lesbians anyway?
Apparently his writer’s ego won out, however, and his next question was, “Oh yeah?” he wasn’t even trying to hide the joyful leer. “Anyone I’d know?”
Oh how Myka wanted to wipe that self-assured smug smile off his face.
And just at that moment - like a gift from the literary gods themselves - Myka heard a commotion outside the door and the familiar dulcet tones of Artie enraged. Ok, so she’d probably never hear the end of it because her cover story had been lousy, but Myka had neutralized the artifact and getting her out of the clutches of the NYPD was nothing compared to some of the bureaucratic nightmares she and Pete had caused for their boss in the past.
“Oops, looks like my ticket out of here just arrived,” Myka smirked in return, watching the flicker of frustration mar Castle’s own smug expression.
The brunette caught sight of Detective Beckett’s scowl before Artie gestured impatiently at his agent and she stood to leave, shrugging on her jacket.
“Nice,” Castle, apparently not content to let it rest, tried to get in one more cheap shot. “So now you can walk away mysteriously and conveniently not have to admit you’re dating a wannabe no one’s ever heard of?” He said it lightly, but the words were meant to sting.
Myka just laughed.
“Oh Mr. Castle, even people who have never read her work know her name.”
He stared at her and Myka had to give him credit, Castle seemed to know truth when he heard it.
And the curiosity was clearly eating at him.
“Ok fine. She’s famous. Who is it? Nancy Drew?”
Outside the interrogation room, Artie looked like a teapot about to boil over.
In all likelihood, Myka Bering and Richard Castle would never cross paths again.
It was too good an opportunity to pass up.
“You really wanna know?” Myka smiled slowly.
Castle tried to play it cool for all of two seconds. “Yes.”
Leaning down and crowding his personal space, Myka brushed her lips feather light against his cheek, knowing damn well he’d been eyeing her the entire time she’d been in custody. She let him squirm for half a second and then whispered three syllables.
Agent Bering sauntered out of the 12th’s interrogation room leaving a stunned “consultant writer” in her wake. Ignoring Artie’s grumping, Myka held out her hand to Kate Beckett - the detective clearly still unhappy to have someone she considered a suspect walk out of her precinct. Still, the other woman’s handshake was firm.
“Don’t worry detective, you’ll get your suspect.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed briefly. Whatever Kate had been expecting, it clearly hadn’t been that.
“How would you know?”
“Because you’re the best,” Myka said simply. She wasn’t exaggerating. She’d read Beckett’s file before the mission, knowing contact with the NYPD was likely and hearing that Det. Beckett had a “thing for the freaky ones.”
“I’d like to return the compliment…” Beckett trailed off pointedly.
Myka just smiled a little wistfully in return. It would be nice to have more female friends, but there was classified and then there was classified and she couldn’t risk being involved in Kate’s life. Instead she settled for a simple, “Good luck detective.” And then because Myka knew what it was like to love the kind of person who thought rules were suggestions other people should follow, she nodded in Castle’s direction. “Something tells me you’ll need it.”
Kate rolled her eyes but Myka caught the hint of color staining her cheeks. The Agent did the Detective the courtesy of pretending she didn’t notice.
“Are we done now? Can we go?” Artie’s grumble shattered the momentary comraderie.
Now it was Kate’s turn to laugh and Myka’s turn to roll her eyes.
The two Warehouse agents were almost to the elevator when Myka’s keen hearing caught Castle’s voice -raised in child-like excitement. “H.G. Wells is a woman! It makes so much sense! And those Agents, Kate you can’t tell me you buy they were just Secret Service agents. This is the best case ever!”
The elevator door closed on Kate’s sarcastic reply.