Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor make any profit from this. This is simply a mental exercise for me. So, cut me some slack.
CH. 1 – Isotope 244
A/N: This was formerly chapters 5-8 of "Detective Rick Castle" Now it is its own story, however still connected to and follows the "DRC" timeline.
It had been a week and Kate Beckett was starting the warm up to thought of playboy-writer turned detective, Richard Castle being one of them. After they had wrapped up the Nathan case in less then 24 hours – an NYPD record, Beckett finally decided that Castle wasn't going to be a liability. In actuality, even when he was still a "consultant" he was a major asset.
She sat at her desk waiting for Detective Castle to show, those two words still sounded odd to her. Minutes later, the elevator dinged and Rick Castle stepped out.
"Good morning, Beckett," Castle said in his usual upbeat tone.
"Morning, Castle," Beckett replied without glancing up at him.
"Is that all I get after I trudge here carrying two hot and extremely refreshing Vanilla Soy Mocha Expressos?" Beckett perks up.
"Damn him, he knows my weakness is coffee and he had to go and get my favorite too." She thought.
Sighing, she looks at him for the first time, "All right, Castle thanks." She says slightly defeated as Castle hands her the her cup.
He flashes a smile then proceeds to his desk.
About a hour in both detectives were doing paperwork, check that, Beckett was doing paperwork, Castle was shooting paper baskets.
"All right, from deep!" Castle exclaims. Beckett looks up and jut rolls her eyes. "Same old Rick," she thought.
A few minutes later, Castle's phone rings, "Castle. Yeah? You're sure? All right we're on it."
Beckett looks up a third time, "What's up?"
"That was Esposito, says we've got a live one, figuratively, in Central Park. You coming?"
"Only if I drive." Beckett declares.
"Why do you always drive?" Castle complains.
They argue all the way to the elevator, in the car and to the crime scene. Beckett in the driver seat, of course.
"What've we got?" Beckett asks as Castle looks around upon arrival.
"Asian male, mid-30s, shot three times in the back with a .38." Finishes M.E. Lanie Parish.
The body, face-down and in jogging suit.
"Time of death?" asks Castle.
"Based on lividity I'd say between 4 and 6 A.M."
"So, the question becomes why would someone shot a jogger three times?" Inquires Beckett.
"I think the better question would be who'd be dumb enough to jog in Central Park at 4 in the morning," corrects Castle.
Meanwhile, Lanie walks over to Beckett. "So are you full-adjusted yet?"
Sighing, Kate looks at Castle who now talking to some uniforms, "Yeah, I guess I mean he was basically a cop before."
"Girl, I know that look, you are so in to him." said Lanie.
Beckett scoffs at the idea. "No, I'm not," defended Beckett.
"Hmm-hmm, denying it just makes more true," says Lanie walking away.
Beckett ponders her friend's words for a few seconds before Castle runs over.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Huh, yea," Beckett lied.
"Esposito found something." Esposito looks to their direction and signals them over.