The Good, the Bad and the Golden Gate Bridge

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Neither the bridge or any of the rest of this is mine, although my dad did leave a hammer in the Golden Gate Bridge. Time: Sometime after Rick and Kate's wedding. Rating: M, to be safe.

Author's note: I wrote a post on the ABC TV Castle BB criticizing Ryan for "investing" in lottery tickets in the Good, the Bad and the Baby. I said that I might have a large orange bridge in San Francisco for Ryan if he thought lottery tickets were a good investment. Among other things, this caused dollyegirl to use the phrase "The Good, the Bad and the Golden Gate Bridge". I posted that I'd write a fic with that title. Dollyegirl asked for writer's credit. Here's the fic, not much, but fun to write, and dollyegirl, you do get writer's credit.

"It's cold." Kate complained. "We're in California in June, for God's sake, and it's freezing."

Rick pulled out his phone. "It's a balmy 42 degrees, hardly freezing. Remember, Mark Twain once said, "The coldest winter I ever spent was one summer in San Francisco.""

Kate muttered something that might have been "pass coal".

"Actually, Mr. Castle," their chauffer said, "there's no evidence Twain ever said that. People have also attributed the saying to author Bret Harte and to Oscar Wilde, but no one's ever found any evidence they said it either."

"Well, Twain should have said it, Frank. It sounds like something he'd say."

"And I didn't pack any winter clothes." Kate grumped.

"I'll keep you warm." Rick said gallantly. "Plus I may have something to warm you up in my suitcase."

"I'd expect something to heat you up…" Kate began, then noticed the chauffer listening.

"We're turning onto Nob Hill, Mr. Castle. We'll be at the Mark Hopkins in just a minute."

"You've got someplace lined up to stay, Frank?" Castle asked. "We'll want the car ready anytime. We're here on business."

"I'll be with my cousin in Chinatown, sir. He's not more than five minutes away."

"You wife won't mind?" Kate asked, having noticed his wedding band.

"With what you're paying me? She'd kill me if I turned this job down."

Frank Turned into the entrance of the Mark Hopkins. Waiting for the Castles was a distinguished looking gentleman in a tuxedo and several bell hops. The door was whisked open before Frank could exit the car.

"Mr. and Mrs. Castle. How good to see you. I'm Martin Fredericks, the manager." Fredericks was tall, well fed, was a bit balding in front and had a plummy mid-Atlantic accent.

"Our suite is ready?" Castle asked,

"Of course, sir. The Presidential Suite awaits you." Fredericks turned to the bell hops. "See to the Castle's luggage, please. This way, please."

Rick and Kate were whisked to the 17th floor. Fredericks opened the suite's door and bowed them in. Although Kate had gotten somewhat used to Rick's wealth, the wood paneling, marble and deep carpets was a bit overwhelming.

Rick took it in stride, of course. He tipped generously and smiled at everyone.

"Will you be dining with us tonight, sir?" Fredericks asked.

"We'll try the Top of the Mark some other time. I have something special in mind for my wife tonight."

When they left, Kate turned on Rick. "Something special in mind for your wife? He leered at you when you said that!"

"How did you…"

"Mirror." Kate pointed.

Rick laughed. "You can take the girl out of the twelfth precinct, but you can't take the twelfth precinct out of the girl."

"I'm glad you remembered we're here on business. You do remember we're here on business, right?"

"Of course I do, but according to our informant, we won't get any place until after lunch tomorrow."

Kate checked her watch. "I'd better start unpacking."

"Unpacking? You have to look at the view! Come here. We can see the bay, Alcatraz, that's Oakland across the way and you can just see the Golden Gate Bridge tops from here." Castle moved Kate in front of him and pointed out the sights. "But the best thing I see is the lovely Mrs. Castle." He kissed the top of her head.

"What exactly did you have in mind for me tonight?" Kate asked suspiciously. Rick had changed since they'd first met, but his enthusiasms could still get the better of him.

Rick headed for their suitcases.

"You're actually going to unpack?" Kate said with an exaggerated look of shock on her face. "What's next? Will you be doing paperwork?"

Rick pulled two tan coats out and held them up with a flourish. "Ta da!"

"Matching coats? Are you planning a new police uniform for us?"

"These are Burberry trench coats. They're for our dinner tonight."

Kate looked skeptical. "They'll be awfully tough."

"We're going to wear them, Little Miss Philistine."

"That's Mrs. Richard Edgar Alexander Philistine to you, bub."

"Tonight, Mrs. Castle, we are dining at John's Grill." Rick looked expectantly at Kate.

Kate realized she had missed a reference somewhere. "John's Grill?"

"John's Grill!" Rick said with extra emphasis. "Where Sam Spade ate in the Maltese Falcon. We will be walking in the footsteps not only of Sam Spade, but of Dashiell Hammett. This is the holy grail for mystery writers."

"How many holy grails for mystery writers are there? Isn't having your own copycat killer the holy grail? Or was it having a homicide detective fall in love with you? I can never remember."

"There are many holy grails for mystery writers, but marrying you is the absolute top." Rick said gallantly.

Several hours later, Kate stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a green dress that complimented her eyes and showed off her figure and her lovely legs.

Rick whistled. "I don't know what's better than a holy grail, but you're it."

"Looking good yourself. Not exactly Sam Spade, though." Rick was dressed in a conservative blue suit with a lighter blue shirt and a deep maroon tie. Over his arm were their trench coats. Kate sighed, accepted her coat from him and put it on.

When he had his on she looked him over. "At least we don't have matching fedoras."

"Frank is outside with the limo. Shall we?" He offered Kate his arm.

Frank stood by the rear door of the limo and opened it when they arrived. "Where to?"

"63 Ellis Street, and make it snappy."

"John's Grill? I should have expected it, Mr. Castle."

At the entrance to John's Grill, Rick was met by the manager. "Mr. Castle? Welcome, sir. We have your table all prepared. Come this way."

"It's right under the photo of Marie Astor?"

"Of course, Mr. Castle."

They were seated and a waiter rushed to take their order. "Do you need menus, sir?"

"My wife will need one, but I'll have the dinner salad, lamb chops, baked potato and sliced tomatoes."

Kate was handed a menu and looked at it closely. "Since San Francisco is known for its sea food, I think I'll try the prawns dijonnaise with a dinner salad."

"You looked at the menu before we came?" Kate asked.

"It's what Sam Spade ordered here." Rick explained.

"So, we're you planning to ask me to gun down your partner in a dark alley tonight? I'm curious because I am your partner. That would be…difficult." Kate teased.

"I'm not that big a fan. You can just work your womanly wiles on me to try to get me to reveal where the priceless Maltese Falcon is."

"Oh, but I already know that."

Rick raised an eyebrow? "Oh?"

"Sam Spade melted it down for the gold and sold the jewels separately to pay for Brigid O'Shaughnessy's defense lawyers. Sam was a true romantic."

Rick nodded. "You're good, you're very good." He said in his best Bogart accent.

Kate had to admit the meal was excellent and the ambience attractive and told Rick so when they got back to their room.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Oh, Mr. Spade. Could I show you how much I enjoyed it?" Kate said in her best femme fatale voice.

Rick pulled her to him and began unzipping her dress.

The next morning, Rick woke up to find himself alone in bed. "Kate?"

"Out here. I ordered some room service coffee, some pastries and a murder board."

Rick grabbed a robe and joined her. "A murder board? That's not exactly the correct terminology, doll face."

"It'll do, Mr. Spade."

He shook his head. "Since were positive our quarry is still alive, we should call it the missing coed who ran away and may be in trouble board."

Kate sighed. "How about just calling it the board?"

Rick shrugged. "Anyone could call it that."

Kate went on, ignoring her husband. "Our vic is Amanda Blake, student at Columbia, friend of one Alexis Castle, and daughter of Tom and Jerry Blake. I can't imagine how many jokes they've heard over the years."

"Blake is a funny name?" Castle asked, deadpan.

"Moving right along," Kate said, glaring as she talked, "Amanda called Alexis and told her she'd done something stupid and possibly illegal and was running away with her boyfriend, Marc Rossi, a sometime student at various less than prestigious colleges in the New York area and something of a leech, according to Alexis. Amanda said she was in San Francisco, that Rossi had dumped her, and that she had a new friend named Buster who she met at a place called Red's Java House on the Embarcadero, apparently they ate lunch there. At which point she hung up on Alexis. Alexis is worried sick for her friend, as are Amanda's parents. As a result, Mr. and Mrs. Castle are now in San Francisco, looking for Amanda."

"I haven't been in San Francisco in years, Kate. I thought you'd like to see it."

"Of course you did. You do remember that I went to Stanford, just down the road?"