A rose for your grave
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor who, characters, or basically the plot line. Im literally combining Castle and Doctor who together.
Characters :
Kate Beckett : Rose Tyler
Richard Castle : Tenth Doctor - John Smith
Gina : River Song
Ryan : Jack Harkness
Espisito : Mickey Smith
Lanie : Martha Jones
Chief Montgomery : Wilfred Mott
Alexis Castle : Ameilia Pond
Martha Castle : Jackie Tyler
Killer will probably stay the same.
(I know most of these characters are off but bare with me)
Chapter one
A landscape. Sand colored, stretching to a Horizon of black. Very serene. And then we see a bead of red, rolling like a teardrop, and we realize that this is no landscape. It's a body. Rose petals stumble softly through space, landing on naked skin. Gloved hands place sunflowers on the victims eyes, a young woman in her early twenties. And we hear a woman's voice.
"Murder… Mystery… The macabre."
This was not your Daddy's publishing party. Waiter dressed as murder victims serve drinks, while hardcore hotties mingle with middle-aged men. Around the room, giant place cards advertise John Smith's latest potboiler, "Storm Fall." The woman, standing at the podium in front of the crowd, is River Song, President of Tardis Publishing.
"What is it about a hard boiled detective, a femme fatale, and the cold steel of the gun that keeps our bedside lamps burning into the wee hours of the morning? However the spell is cast, tonight we honor a master of the form and celebrate the launch of "Storm Fall," River Song announced.
You see a handsome fellow, that looks an awful lot like the back of the mentioned book, off the side of the stage with a sharpie as one of the giggling young beauties pulls her dress top aside. The man, also known as John Smith, sometimes called the Doctor, grins and signs his name just above the bra line.
"Call me when you're ready to wash that off." He told the girl with a saucy wink.
River glanced over in time to witness this. A fleeting glimpse of disapproval crosses her face.
"the stunning conclusion of his best-selling Derrick Storm series. Ladies and Gentlemen, the Master of the Macabre… John Smith." River announced her ex-husband.
The audience applauds while Doctor poses for pictures with fans and autographs copies of his novel as well as various body parts.
—
Tyler heads up the hallway, past Uniforms interviewing neighbors, to apartment 217. A couple of plainclothes are going over their notes. They are detectives Mickey Smith and Jack Harkness. Crime scene techs photograph the body of Alison Tisdale. She lies on the dining room table, nude, but covered head-to-toe in rose petals. Covering her eyes are two sunflowers. Tyler crouches to look over the victim's body.
"Who are you?" She asked. Looking at the body, but really meant the people alive in the room to answer her.
"Alison Tisdale. 24. Grad student at NYU, part of the Social Work Program." Mickey replied. Rose and Micks had been friends forever.
"So, what'd he give her besides roses?" Tyler asked.
An african american woman, Martha her name, tweezes away flower petals revealing the gunshots.
"Two shots. Small caliber." Martha replied.
"Does this look familiar to anyone?" Tyler asked, wanting to see if it was a random killer, or a serial killer.
"No, but I'm not the one with the thing for the freaky ones. Just give me a Jack shot Jill over Bill so I can get my call and go home." Smith replied.
"Oh, but the freaky ones require more. They reveal more. Look at how he left her : covered modestly." Tyler observed.
"So?" Jack asked.
"So, despite all of the effort, all of the preparation, you won't find any evidence of sexual abuse." Tyler replied to her confused coworker.
"You really get that from just this?" Smith asked.
"This, plus I've seen this before." Tyler replied mysteriously.
"You've seen it before? Where?" Harkness asked.
"Roses on her body, sunflowers on her eyes? Don't you guys read?" She asked her two colleagues.
—
Back at the party
Flash. Flash. River and the Doctor stand for the photographers. River speaks through her gritted smile.
"What kind of idiot kills off his best-selling main character?" River asked him.
"Are you asking as my blood-sucker publisher? Or my blood-sucking ex-wife?" He asked her.
"Oh, is that what you're doing? Punishing me by killing the Golden Goose?" She asked.
"Oh, come on. I may be petty and short-sided, but I'm not that petty and short-sighted." He replied. "Really? Why then?" River asked.
"Writing Derrick used to be fun. But now it just seems like work." the Doctor replied.
"Mm. God forbid you have to work. I mean, you could've retired him, you could've crippled him, you could've had him join the frickin' circus! But no. You had to put a bullet through his head." River tried to reason with him, even though she knew it was useless and he was already dead.
"Yeah, real messy, too. Big exit wound. But don't worry, Derrick Storm is not the Golden Goose here. I am. I wrote half a dozen best-sellers before him. What makes you think I'm going to stop now?" he asked her.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you're new book was due nine weeks ago?" River stated. Which John only responded with "Can't rush genius."
"Genius, Doctor? Try blockage. I heard you haven't written in months." River admitted.
"That's ridiculous!" John exclaimed softly.
"My sources are very reliable." River simply stated, pursing her lips.
"Well, they're wrong." John replied, getting mad.
"They better be. If I don't get a new manuscript in the next few weeks, Tardis is prepared to demand the return of your advance." River said with a smirk.
"You wouldn't dare." John shot back.
"Try me. Just try me." River replied.
As River walked away, the Doctor calls after her.
"You know, I already returned that advance. I spent it divorcing you!"
River smiles with a shrug
—
Jackie Castle (60's), a classic broad in the Broadway mold, a former actress on the Great White Way, Jackie never made it nearly big as she thinks she did. Amelia Castle, 15, sits at the bar in a party dress, studying from a physics text book. She's a natural beauty, the kind of old soul more at home with adults than kids her own age.
"Really, doll face. Who does homework at a party?" Jackie asked her.
"I have a test next week." Amelia responded.
"So do I. Liver function. You don't see me studying. Alright. Gimme a hit of the bubbly." Jackie argued.
"Make it two." John said, coming into the kitchen.
"Hey kiddo. Sales must be slipping. They're only serving the soft stuff." Jackie told her son.
"Hey dad." Amelia greeted.
"Hey sweetie. So, Mother…" Doctor started.
"Shhh. Not so loud. I'm still hoping to get lucky." Jackie shushed him.
"Did you tell River I was having trouble writing?" John asked.
"Oh, I told her nothing of the sort! I… I may have said something about spending your days moping in your underwear waiting for post time at Belmont, but hey, you're an artist. It's expected." Jackie explained.
"We had a deal. I let you live with us, but you don't talk about my work." John complained.
"What's to talk about? You haven't done any since I moved in." Jackie argued.
"Gram!" Amelia cried.
"Well, he hasn't!" Jackie stated.
"Whatever I have or haven't done, I would just appreciate it if you wouldn't share it with my ex-wife." John explained.
"Oh, what's the big deal? Hang on, sweetie, I just got a hit on my Greydar." Jackie asked, before excusing herself.
She locked in on a Silver Fox (70's) across the room. Country club looks, spray-on tan. As he lifts his glass of champagne to his lips Jackie scans his fingers.
"Bingo. No ring. Stand back, kids. Momma's going fishing." Jackie announced.
"You should have me committed." John said.
"For what? Letting her move in? I think it's sweet." Amelia replied.
"Won't be sweet when I strangle her." John joked.
The bartender puts the two glasses of champagne on the bar. John sets one of the champagne flutes in front of Amelia.
"You know I'm only fifteen right?" She asked.
"You're an old soul." John reasoned.
"Yeah, well, me and my soul can wait." Amelia replied.
"When I was your age" he pauses. "I can't tell that story. It's wildly inappropriate. Which, oddly, is my point. Don't you want to have wildly inappropriate stories that you can't tell your children?" John asked.
"I think you've enough for the both of us." Amelia concluded.
"Life should be an adventure. You want to know why I killed Derrick? There were no more surprises. I knew exactly what was going to happen every moment of every scene. It's just like these parties. They become so predictable. 'I'm your biggest fan!' 'Where do you get your ideas?'" John explained.
"And the ever popular, 'Will you sign my chest?'" Amelia added.
"That one I don't mind as much." John admitted.
"Yeah well, FYI, I do." Amelia admitted.
"Just once, I'd like someone to come up to me and say something new." John elated.
"Mr. Smith?" They heard an unseen female voice call.
John turns around and pulls out a pen.
"Where would you like it?" He asked as detective Tyler appeared in the kitchen, showing her badge.
"Detective Rose Tyler. NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight." She retorted.
Amelia took the pen. "Well, that's new."
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