Sixth Wheel

Payback

When Esposito got home, all he wanted was a cold drink and his hot Meredeth. But since she was still in California, he'd settle for her interview on The Late Late Show. He was supposed to be at work, but since it was dead as Dillinger and he'd put in overtime with Meredeth away for work, the captain had cut him loose at eleven, only six hours into his ten. He wandered into his kitchen to examine the contents of his refrigerator - a carton of orange juice, a lonely Coke, leftover Chinese and some questionable bananas.

"Takeout it is," he muttered. He drank the orange juice straight from the carton; as he screwed the cap back on he looked at the park pictures Meredeth had put there. He laughed at himself as he looked at his favorite one, the same one she would show off on only Craig's show for some reason.

He flipped on the TV, fiddled with the controls on his TiVo when he heard a knock at the door. Furrowing his brow, he thought of who'd stop in at nearly half-past midnight. Meredeth was obviously out as she was in L.A. and had his emergency key; she wouldn't have knocked. Beckett and Castle were on the town at some fancy event, Lanie was on nights and Ryan was home with Honey-Milk. His sister, he figured, needing a late night chat and reassurance her husband would make it home safely from Iraq.

He pulled open the door, felt his jaw drop open. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"We come from East Eighty-Fourth bearing pizza and beverages," Ryan said with a grin broad as the Hudson. He strolled in, three boxes in hand, Beckett and Castle and Lanie behind him. "Even got you the all-veggie whole-grain health crap you like, if you can call that pizza."

"I don't, which is why we got the loaded one, and a plain cheese for Miss Tender Tummy here," Castle added, jerking his head towards Beckett, who rolled her eyes as she hoisted a white plastic grocery bag onto the small kitchen table. She pulled out two bottles of cranberry juice, a third of something pink and fizzing.

"I like my pizza like my murder cases. Simple with nothing mucking it up. Glasses are where?"

Lanie pulled open a random cupboard door. "Found 'em."

"What are you doing here?" Esposito repeated, staring at the quartet now occupying his apartment. "Don't you all have plans?"

"Yeah, and you figured we'd pass up the chance to make you turn red as that juice?" Lanie unscrewed the caps, began pouring. "You want cranberry or fizzy grapefruit?"

Still reeling, Esposito pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Guys, I've had a long week, come on."

"Aw, he wants alone time with his beauty on the TV screen," Ryan snickered, using a spatula to lift slices onto plates Lanie had located. "Not tonight, bro. You thought you could pull a fast one and leave us out of the loop, and now you must pay."

Resigned, Esposito flipped the lid on his 'health crap' pizza as Castle so kindly put it and put two slices on his plate. By the time he'd done so, Lanie and Beckett had already parked themselves on his couch while Ryan had ensconced himself in the overstuffed armchair and Castle was on the ground by Beckett's feet. He squished himself in at the end of the couch, balanced his plate on his knee as the opening credits of The Late Late Show rolled, heart hiccuping in his chest at Meredeth's face on the 'tonight's guests' screen. By the time the monologue and emails were over, Esposito had barely touched his food and was aching desperately for something stronger than the grapefruit shit the girls had brought. He'd put his plate back with the boxes on the table when the show came back from his commercial and the eel that seemed to have awoken in his belly was slithering full force. Finally, finally, the excruciating wait was over and Meredeth's introduction was made.

"Here she comes," Lanie said in a singsong voice, wiggling a little in place.

"My first guest tonight is a very sexy lady who also has a masters degree in film history. Eat your heart out Brooke Shields. She writes for Critical Condition, and writes graphic novels and has just put out her first collection of short stories. Please welcome the effervescent Meredeth Coleman everyone!"

In Esposito's living room, everyone focused with deadly intensity on the screen as Meredeth walked on screen in a sassy red top, black pants and high heels. Her hair was styled in a flirty flip and she'd done that thing again with her mouth, Esposito noted, that made it look lush and sexy. He felt the ache on his own lips as he pressed them together to ward off the phantom feeling of kissing her; it was quickly replaced with the desire to punch Castle and Ryan as they whistled appreciatively.

"That's what you kick out of bed in the morning, Esposito?"

"No wonder you were late to the morgue that night."

Esposito felt his color rise as he tried to sink into the couch. "Is this going to go on much longer?"

"Yeah," they chorused, clinking together glasses, their attention never leaving the screen.

"Hello my dear it's lovely to see you, how are you, because I know you've been a busy girl since you've been here."

"I know, this is my third interview in four days, and somehow, I managed to sneak in a day-trip to San Francisco in there too."

"From Los Angeles?"

"Yeah, my girlfriend, Chin, her name's actually Natalia Fedochinski but she goes by Chin, picked me up right after I was done interviewing on Tuesday, so like around five, and we drove up the coast with the gorgeous sunset to San Fran, and we spent the next day visiting another friend who lives on a houseboat up there. We packed like a picnic-shore lunch and anchored out by the bridge and spent the day catching up and drinking wine in the sun and having a great time."

She smiled at the audience in that big flashy way she had; something in Esposito's stomach loosened as he watched her. Even when she had her professional-writer skin on, she was still bubbly as a bottle of champagne. Then he felt his nerves sizzle as she continued, "I took this photo while I was there, for my boyfriend, he's a big 'Shark Week' fan."

A photo flashed on screen again, but Esposito didn't really have enough brain power to focus, as the others in the room started wolf-whistling and cheering.

"That's it man, Esposito's officially off the market, ladies take your Puerto-Rican loving panties and go home." Ryan clapped his hands as he grinned at his friend's red face.

"Are you done?"

"Not even close."

"Shush, I wanna hear her gush s'more." Lanie leaned forward in anticipation. "Maybe he'll turn fuchsia."

"So the rumors are true then, you're no longer our quintessential single lady?"

"They are true. I've been seeing him, hi Javi-" she gave a little wave at the camera, which made Esposito grin before he could help himself, fold his arms around his chest "-for about a month-ish now, where, yes there's the picture."

This time it was the two women who got their digs in.

"I didn't know you were so photogenic, Esposito. Maybe you should have tried modeling too," Beckett commented, hiding her smirk with a sip of her drink.

"What does the Shark Week fan do the rest of the year?"

"He's a detective with the NPYD, and he actually works in the...oh, woo! My pocket's buzzing!"

"Hey now this is still on network, it's not like HBO."

"No, actually, I knew this would happen, just not at what point. It's himself, he's sent me a text."

All four pairs of eyes turned away momentarily from the screen to stare at Esposito, who shifted uncomfortably.

"You texted her during her interview?"

"Maybe."

"What's that message say from Detective Interrupter?"

"It says, 'hey sweets, don't forget to ask about Brian the Shark. xx J."

"Oh how adorable, let me text him back for you."

Once again, all eyes in the room turned on Esposito, who was now almost as purple as the armchair Ryan sat in.

"You sign your texts to her with two little x's?" Ryan said, barely able to hold in his glee. He had his home-boy now, there would be no more Mr. Honey-Milk, not after this.

"Does she sign back with two little o's?" Castle added, bro-dapping knuckles with Ryan.

"I'll give you two little o's in about five seconds if you don't watch your mouth."

"But wouldn't Meredeth get jealous?" Lanie zipped off, earning her own knuckle-bump from Beckett.

Between being so proud that Craig Ferguson had sent him a text via Meredeth, frustrated at missing her in the flesh and slimy that his friends had resorted to this level of torture, the only response Esposito could manage was, "Screw you all."

At the end of the show, he'd ushered them out the door, keeping all three boxes of pizza as spoils of the war he'd just endured. He went into his room, stripped down to his boxers and set his alarm for seven in the morning. As he drifted off, he rolled over and wrinkled his nose that Meredeth's side of his bed didn't smell like her, the heady combination of her perfume and cucumber soap. The last thought that passed through his mind before fatigue overtook him was, come home soon. I miss you.

The first sensation he had when he awoke to his alarm was something soft but firm tucked under his arm. Still in the haze between sleep and wakefulness, Esposito inhaled sharply- and felt his senses go on alert as the perfume-and-cucumber scent hit his nose. Blinking slowly, he cleared the sleep from his eyes, and saw Meredeth watching his face with tired, heavy eyes.

"Good morning snooze-a-roo."

"You're home."

"Surprise." Her voice was soft, heavy with fatigue herself as she pressed her palm to his cheek. "I managed to get an earlier flight, came here since it's closer to the airport."

He pulled her tight into his arms, kissed her in a way that let her know how happy it made him she was back. She was no dream; it was his Meredeth. "I missed you."

"I know, same here."

"Did you really drive to San Francisco?"

"We really did." Meredeth bit her lip, remembering how she'd been watching the sunset and thinking that the only thing that made the moment imperfect was that her Javi was on the other side of the country. "Do you mind if I sleep here? I'm still adjusting to Eastern Standard."

"Go for it. There's leftover pizza in the fridge if you're hungry, too." He got up, not an easy task as he hadn't seen her in nearly a week, but he still had to go into work. When he came back from the shower fifteen minutes later, he saw she had already begun to drift off. By the time he was dressed for work, badge on his belt and weapon holstered at his side, Meredeth was passed out cold on her back, no hint of her night terrors anywhere in sight. Just calm, steady breathing occasionally interrupted by a gurgling sniff. He tugged the grey and purple blanket his grandmother had knitted for him up to her shoulders, kissed her cheek

"Sleep tight, Mere."