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English
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Yuletide 2010
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Published:
2010-12-17
Words:
1,107
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
13
Kudos:
124
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10
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2,920

By Brian Wilson’s Beard

Summary:

Take Them Out To The Ballgame.

Notes:

Thanks to k for beta awesomeness.

Work Text:

“Listen up, team,” Captain Montgomery said, "We’ve got a situation. There have been some threats made-”

“Threats,” Castle interrupted. He looked up from where he’d been doodling, ears perked up from excitement.

“Threats,” the Captain repeated. “The department has decided that extra police presence is needed. So, as of right now, you are all on overtime.”

Esposito, Ryan and Beckett groaned. Castle, on the other hand, looked like he was about to bounce out of his seat. It was times like this that he most looked the like golden retriever that Beckett was always saying he acted like.

“What rat infested crack den are we patrolling this time?” Beckett asked.

“Maybe there will be roaches instead,” Ryan suggested. “For a change of pace.”

The Captain started talking over them, “Your assignment is to go undercover at the Yankees game tonight. You will pose as civilians. You will sit and enjoy the game and keep your eyes out for any unusual behavior.”

“Like the wave,” Castle suggested.

“Or grown men clapping in unison,” Esposito offered.

“Adults wearing pajamas in public,” was Beckett’s contribution.

“I, uh, I got nothin’,” Ryan said. “I’ve never been to a baseball game.”

Castle looked like someone kicked a puppy, and even Beckett looked surprised.

“That is the saddest thing I could imagine,” Esposito said. “Did your parents lock you in a cupboard like Harry Potter?”

“You read Harry Potter?” Beckett asked. “How old are you again?”

"Harry Potter is a great work of popular literature," Castle said.

“Well, the man-child agrees with you,” Beckett said, “Making it a point not in your favor.”

“People,” Captain Montgomery said, “Don’t you have work to do before you have to go to work later?”

Castle looked like he was trying to diagram that sentence in his mind causing him to make a series of increasingly bizarre faces. Beckett stuck a donut in his mouth and dragged him off by the ear before he could speak and cause them any more grief than he usually did.

*

Two beers, three innings and 11 Yankee at-bats later, Esposito turned to Ryan and said, “You’ve really never been to a baseball game?”

“I’m actually at a baseball game now, so I can’t say I’ve never been to one.”

“Before, I mean,” Esposito said, hitting Ryan lightly upside the head.

“What was that for?” Ryan said.

“General douchery,” Esposito said.

“We just never bothered to go. It’s not a big deal. I’ve been to tons of other games,” Ryan said.

“Not the same,” Esposito said. “Every child has a constitutional right to attend a baseball game at least once in their life. I am going to have to talk to your parents.”

“By all means,” Ryan said. “That won’t make Thanksgiving uncomfortable at all.”

“Thanksgiving?,” Esposito said. “Thanksgiving. Oh!”

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t have to. It’s not a big deal. And it’s a long time from now. So no pressure or anything. I just thought...” Ryan kept talking before he was thankfully bailed out by Esposito.

“You really need to stop talking,” Esposito said, squeezing Ryan’s knee. “I mean, it’s pretty charming but you are verging on too much of a good thing.”

The moment was interrupted by the roar of the crowd.

“What did we miss?” Ryan said.

“Grand slam home run,” Castle said. “Aren’t you two paying attention? What kind of detectives are you?”

“Castle,” Esposito said, “In the spirit of baseball I will not kick your ass for being a dick.”

“Are you challenging me to a duel?” Castle said. “Because that would be-”

“Not happening,” Beckett said, leaning over from the other side of Castle. “No dueling. No fighting. And no group trips to the handicapped bathroom.” Beckett said, with a meaningful look at Esposito’s hand, where it still rested on Ryan’s knee.

“Mooom,” Ryan whined, managing to look scarily like a fifteen year old.

“Shush,” Beckett said. “Or I will end you and that will make Esposito very, very sad.”

*

Somehow Castle stumbled across a drug smuggling ring while searching for the bathroom, and while he stumbled home triumphant and bruised, the rest of the team was left to go through the mountain of paperwork and bureaucracy that comes from arresting several someones at Yankee Stadium. Esposito was just overjoyed that he hadn’t had to arrest any of the players. He did not relish the crap he would get from his family if he ended up on the front cover of the Post, leading Derek Jeter away in handcuffs. Although if he were not happily whatevers with Ryan, he would not object to a little Derek Jeter face time.

But thoughts of Derek Jeter do not make piles of paperwork go away. Sighing, Esposito returned to form 42-A, filling in all the witness names, each with their own sheet of never ending paperwork in the never ending pile. Esposito was never arresting anyone at a baseball game again.

“So are baseball games usually like this,” Ryan asked, with that casual innocence that he managed to pull off so well. “Because that could be why my parents never let me go, with all the exposure to criminal activity.”

“Well, no chance of that in this job,” Beckett replied. “How did you end up a cop anyway?”

“How did you?” Ryan asked.

Beckett rolled her eyes. “I’m the daughter of a cop who was the son of a cop. You do the math.”

“Same here,” Esposito added. “Well, not the daughter part.”

“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “I guess I never wanted to be anything else. Why be an accountant or a banker when you could be a cop?”

“Here, here,” Beckett and Esposito chimed in, raising their paper cups of espresso. A silence fell over the group as they looked at the paperwork piled before them.

“Hey,” Beckett said. “Let’s leave all this for today. Go home, enjoy the glow of the baseball game and get a fresh start in the morning.”

Ryan and Esposito jumped out of their seats, shuffling papers into order and putting their coats on. The three of them were out the door less than ten minutes later.

“Night, guys,” Beckett called as she walked off down the street.

Esposito and Ryan stood there, watching Beckett disappear around the corner.

“So, my place?” Ryan said. “We could get takeout from that Chinese place you liked.”

“The one with the...” Esposito said.

“No, the other place.”

“Or, or we could go to my place and eat the leftovers my mom left,” Esposito said.

“Your place it is,” Ryan said, as they walked down the block, disappearing from view of the police station.

END