One week later...
The Twelfth Precinct was as busy as ever. The bulletin boards were filled with old notices. The air smelled like coffee, paper, and a hint of gun oil. It felt lively in a way that Travis hadn't experienced in years.
He stood outside a door with a frosted glass panel that read Captain Roy Montgomery.
Travis raised his hand and knocked.
"Enter," came the voice from inside.
He pushed the door open and stepped in.
Captain Montgomery looked up from his desk, glasses perched low on his nose. He was older than Travis remembered from the files. He studied Travis for a moment.
"How are you doing, Wilson?" the captain asked.
Travis shrugged lightly. "Good. Slept a lot over the week, watched some tv, grabbed some beer. Now I'm ready to bust some criminals."
Montgomery snorted despite himself and leaned back in his chair. "That enthusiasm is noted. Unfortunately, field work is going to have to wait."
Travis did not react, but he had expected it. Nothing ever came easy in this job.
"For now," Montgomery continued, "you're on desk duty."
Travis raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Fitness test, psych eval, medical clearance... All that shit."
The captain opened a drawer and pulled out a small stack of forms, tapping them into a neat pile. "Apparently, yes. If it were up to me, I'd put you out on the street today. But I don't make the rules."
He slid the forms across the desk.
Travis took them, flipping through the pages without really reading. He already knew what was on them: Timed runs, strength tests, shooting scores. Boxes waiting to be checked by people who had never bled in a hallway.
"Well," Travis said, folding the papers once and tucking them under his arm, "no harm in taking it easy for a bit."
He turned toward the door, then paused and glanced back.
"By the way," he said casually, "who's got the highest score in this department?"
Montgomery replied. "Detective Kate Beckett."
Travis nodded once, like he had just confirmed something obvious.
"Good to know," he said.
He walked out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him.
Phones ringing. Officers are arguing over paperwork. Someone is laughing too loudly near the coffee machine. Travis walked straight to the desk with his name tag. A few heads turned as he passed. Some recognized him. Some did not. Word traveled fast, but not everyone believed stories about a rookie going undercover for three years and then coming back to the job within a month of getting tortured and shot.
Travis dropped his bag beside the desk and took a slow look around. The chair squeaked when he pulled it out. The desk itself was scarred with old coffee rings and shallow knife marks.
He opened his bag, took out a few things, and started arranging them. Pens lined up. Notebook squared to the edge. Then he paused, reached back into the bag, and pulled out a small panda-shaped table clock.
He set it near the corner of the desk and tapped it once.
Across the bullpen, Kate Beckett leaned against her desk, coffee in hand. Ryan sat on the edge of the desk next to her, and Esposito stood nearby, thumbing through a case file he clearly was not reading.
Ryan lowered his voice, though not enough to really be subtle. "I'm telling you, I did fourteen months undercover and those were the worst months of my life. You wake up every day wondering if today is the day someone notices you flinch wrong."
Esposito nodded. "Yeah, and that was with regular check-ins and a clean exit plan."
Ryan glanced toward Travis. "This guy, though? I heard he was still a rookie when the Feds spotted him. He had no deep cover experience or real street rep yet."
Kate took a sip of her coffee, eyes still on Travis as he adjusted the angle of his chair.
"Three whole years," Ryan continued, shaking his head. "Three years undercover. And it ends with one of the biggest drug busts in New York. That's not luck. That's… I don't even know what that is."
Ryan sounded impressed, and a little disturbed by it.
Esposito finally looked up from the file. "That long out there changes people. You don't just put the badge back on and go back to normal. And he nearly died. I heard they tortured him before he got shot."
Ryan winced. "And he's back after a month. A month."
Kate nodded once.
"He wouldn't be here if he couldn't handle it," she said. "For someone who crawled his way out through that hellhole... He's good. Besides, we don't even know what actually happened in that warehouse. The higher-ups simply sealed all the records."
"You think he killed them all before walking out?" Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We'll never know," Kate replied.
Her eyes followed Travis as he leaned back in his chair, testing it, then leaned forward again to nudge the panda clock so it lined up perfectly with the desk edge. For a brief second, something softened in her expression.
A small smile tugged at her mouth.
"Anyone who brings a panda clock to their first day," she added quietly, "is either completely unhinged or very sure of himself."
Esposito smirked. "My money's on both."
Travis glanced up at that moment, catching movement more than words. His eyes met Kate's across the room, just for a second.
He gave her a polite nod with a smile.
"He's smiling at you," Espo said with a little chuckle. "You wanna go and greet him?"
Kate stood up and walked over to Travis. She stopped at the edge of his desk and extended her hand.
"Kate Beckett."
Travis stood up and shook her hand.
"Travis Wilson," he said. "Which you already know."
She smiled, small and genuine. "Yeah. Word travels fast around here."
"Usually gets distorted along the way," Travis replied. "So I'm guessing I'm either a legend or a walking liability."
"Both," she said easily. "Depends who you ask."
She let go of his hand but didn't step back. Up close, Travis noticed the sharpness in her eyes. Not suspicious exactly, but observant. The kind of look that missed nothing and forgot even less.
"So," Kate continued, glancing at the panda clock, "desk duty on your first week back. You handling that tragedy okay?"
Travis glanced at the clock and tapped it once as the blue light blinked on the tiny screen. "I've survived worse. Paper cuts don't scare me."
Ryan appeared at her shoulder, unable to help himself. "Hey, Wilson. Ryan. Just wanted to say, uh… welcome back from the dead."
"Thanks," Travis said. "I give it three stars. Would not recommend."
Esposito joined them, arms crossed, grin sharp. "So it's true, the undercover thing?"
"Depends which part," Travis replied. "The three years? Yeah. Did I cry after getting shot? Not so much."
Kate watched the exchange with interest. "You don't look like someone easing back into the job."
"I don't know how to do that," Travis said honestly. "I either work or I don't. Sitting still makes me itchy."
Esposito laughed. "You'll fit right in."
Kate nodded toward the captain's office. "Montgomery give you the speech yet?"
"He gave me the paperwork version," Travis said.
Her lips curved. "You planning to follow it?"
"I'll try," he said. "No promises."
There was a brief pause. Not awkward, but noticeable. Kate broke it first.
"Well, welcome to the Twelfth," she said. "Once you're cleared for fieldwork, you'll probably end up riding with one of us."
"Looking forward to it," Travis replied. "Always wanted to see how the best detective in the precinct does things."
Ryan made a noise. "Smooth."
Kate raised an eyebrow at Travis. "Careful. Compliments get you paperwork."
"Worth the risk," he said.
"Well, see you around," Ryan said with a nod.
"Try to take it easy," Espo said.
Kate smiled as she turned, picked up her coffee mug and walked back toward her desk. Espo and Ryan followed her. Travis watched her go for half a second, then sat back down, rolling his shoulders once like a man settling into a familiar fight.
Across the room.
Ryan leaned in.
"You like him," He said.
"I'm curious," Kate replied. "Big difference."
Esposito smirked. "Looks like Castle got a competition."
Kate simply shook her head. It's been a week since Castle started to follow her for his new book research. And together they solved two major homicide cases and two small ones so far. And Castle being Castle, started flirting with her from day 1.
"Speaking of the devil..."
Castle walked in with his classic smirk.
He walked straight up to Kate, coffee already in hand, jacket half open, grin fully loaded.
"So," he said, cheerful as ever, "anything new? Anyone died? Any mysterious puzzle that only a ruggedly handsome novelist could spot?"
Kate replied as she opened a case file. "Good morning to you too, Castle."
"And who," Castle said slowly, pointing with his coffee cup, "is the new guy?"
Kate followed his gaze. "That's Travis Wilson. New detective."
Castle's eyebrows shot up. "New Detective? Wow. And here I am still just a humble civilian with devastating good looks and impeccable instincts."
Kate closed the file with a soft thump and looked back at Castle.
"Don't start," she said. "He's been here five minutes."
"That's five minutes too many," Castle replied, still staring at Travis. "I can already tell. He's quiet, organized, and mysterious. Those are my things." He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret. "So what's his deal? Deep cover? Special forces? Secret assassin raised by monks?"
Kate gave him a sideways look. "You just described three different movie characters."
"And I play all of them very convincingly in my head," Castle said. "Come on. You don't bring a panda clock to a homicide bullpen unless you've seen things and that little panda is all you have to remind yourself that you still have humanity left in you."
Across the room, Travis finished logging into the system. He scanned the screen, then looked up as he felt eyes on him. Castle did not bother looking away. He smiled widely and lifted his coffee cup in greeting.
Travis blinked once, then raised two fingers in a lazy salute and went back to typing.
"Well, he was undercover for three years in a drug cartel," Kate replied.
Castle nearly choked on his coffee.
"Three years?" he repeated, eyes lighting up as if someone had just handed him a winning lottery ticket. "Three full years undercover? In a cartel?"
Kate nodded once, already regretting saying anything.
"That's all you get," she said.
Castle ignored the warning completely.
"Oh, come on," he said, turning fully toward her. "You can't drop something like that and expect me not to ask questions. Three years living a lie, surrounded by criminals, always one mistake away from a shallow grave. That's not a backstory, Beckett. That's a trilogy."
She sighed. "Most of it is sealed."
"That just makes it better," Castle said, grinning. "Mystery, trauma, government cover-ups. Does he have scars?"
Kate shot him a look. "You are not asking him that."
"I wasn't going to ask him directly," Castle said quickly. "I'd ease into it. You know. Casual conversation. Friendly banter. 'Hey, how's your day going, also what's the worst thing you've ever done to stay alive?'"
Ryan snorted from his desk. Espo shook his head.
Kate sighed. "He's not a character, Castle. He's a cop who barely made it back."
Castle followed her gaze to Travis.
"Yeah," he said. "But that's exactly why he's interesting."
"You're not circling him."
"I'm not circling," Castle said. "I'm observing. There's a difference."
She raised an eyebrow.
He held up his hands. "Fine. I'm circling a little."
Across the bullpen, Travis finished typing and leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up again, this time catching Castle staring outright.
Their eyes met.
Castle smiled, wide and friendly, then pointed at the panda clock.
"Nice clock," he called out.
A few heads turned.
Travis looked at the clock, then back at Castle. "Keeps good time."
"And pandas," Castle added. "Famously dangerous animals. Says a lot about a man."
Travis smiled faintly. "They only look harmless."
Castle laughed, delighted. "Oh, I like him."
Kate muttered, "That's what I was afraid of."
Castle walked over, stopping at a polite distance from Travis's desk. "Richard Castle," he said. "Writer and civilian consultant."
"Travis Wilson," Travis replied. "Detective. Temporary desk prisoner."