I don't own these characters. If I did... This probably would've been in the show.
A mechanically naïve young woman stranded on a quiet country road with a car that refused to move. It happened in movies so often, it was something of a cliché. There was even a scene in "Checkmate", her latest novel, where the soldier's love interest is in a situation similar to this one. There was one main difference, though; Adele Banks didn't sit up until the early hours of the morning watching twenty year old horror films.
Kate imagined the horrors out there in the dark; the ghosts, serial killers and monsters intent on killing her. The ideas sent shivers up her spine. "Come on, Kate," she muttered to herself, "nothing will happen to you. The most that will happen is that you get a good idea and your pen runs out. That's it. Nothing will happen. Nothing will- start damn it!" She slammed her palm into the wheel in a surge of anger and received a sharp pain in return.
She saw the headlights of another car, only the second she'd seen since the wheel had burst. It sped past her. She swore. "Hope you crash, jackhole."
The car, a black Mercedes with tinted windows, slowed to a stop. Fuck, she thought, had they heard her?
A tall man with dark hair and eyes climbed out the passenger seat and smiled flirtatiously at her, a gesture she returned with little thought. She was used to it. "Need a hand, miss?" he called from where he leaned on the roof of his car.
Finally, a gentleman! "Please. It's the back wheel, I think. It burst about an hour ago," Kate replied. He looked familiar, but only vaguely. He'd probably interviewed her; it seemed like every person in New York had done so. Everyone except the people who mattered.
"Well, it's a good thing my friend has a jack in the back of his car, isn't it? I'm Richard Castle, by the way," he smiled, something which seemed to lighten up her day. It cast a light down the dark path that was her night. How was that even possible? She wondered as he poked his head into his car. A minute later, two other men appeared, one tall, dark and handsome, and the other small and cute with eyes brighter than she'd ever seen.
"Kate Beckett. I appreciate the help, guys," she grinned, watching the tall man push a jack under her car. The smaller man held out his hand for her to shake. "Kevin Ryan, ma'am. Good to meet you."
"Javier Esposito. It's a punctured tyre. It'll probably be easier for me to just change it. Do you have a spare?" the tall man smiled, his just as warm as Kevin's.
"Nice to meet you both. I've got a spare in my boot. I'll get it, if you like," Kate offered, pointing to the boot of her small red Beetle.
Kevin shook his head. "I'll do it, Miss Beckett. Come on, Javi. If you get the punctured one off, I'll bring you the new one."
"If you can carry it. I've seen you at the gym; you can barely bench-press 10," Javier commented with only a hint of sarcasm. He watched his friend open up the boot and lift up the tyre.
"Oh, it's so heavy. I'm not sure if I can- got it!" Kevin replied equally as merrily. This seemed like a common occurrence to Richard, as he only chuckled and rolled his eyes.
"To be fair, Kev, you are the least muscular guy I know. Surely with a job like yours, you'd have a bit of muscle. You'd have nearly as much muscle as Espo," he shrugged, and Javier pulled his shirt over his head to prove it. Kate had to force herself to stop looking; he was ripped!
The smaller man glared at Richard and unbuttoned his own shirt while the tyre leaned against his leg. It was going to fall on his foot, Kate called it. He was slim, but tiny muscles were noticeable on his chest. This was better than the strip show Lanie had taken her to last week.
"Dude, boom!" Javier held up his arms and flexed his muscles. "Bang, bang! My nephew has more of a pack than you!"
"Ok, guys. Just change the tyre. And for god's sake, Kev, button your shirt up. You're traumatising the lady," Castle sighed, trying to prevent what would likely become a competition which Javier would obviously win. "Javi, keep yours off. Then Kevin can see what he could have had."
"Hilarious," Ryan snorted, picking up the tyre and holding it at his shoulder with a wince. He was just trying to prove Javier and Richard wrong. They were like brothers. Were they brothers?
"They're my friends from college. Roommates. They're both fire-fighters. Hey, I recognise your name. You're an author, right?" Richard answered her unasked question.
"'Check' series, yeah," she replied with a wide grin. No one read 'Checkmate'. It didn't even make the list at the bookstore.
"I thought so. You know, Russell Knight is a really relatable character. He's one of the few book characters I like." He paused to think. "We met once, you and I."
Kate nodded. "I know. I just don't know where. Was it through your job?"
"I doubt it. I'm a lawyer. It was at a book signing. You flirted with me. I remember you kissing me on the cheek." He blushed.
"Well, if you're lucky, and if those two do a good job, you might get another one. And not on the cheek," she flirted, fluttering her long eyelashes.
He leaned close to her. "You're just as beautiful now, you know. Maybe even more so." His hand held her against him, but she didn't fight it.
"How do I know you're not a stalker?" she asked, then thought. "Never mind. People stalk successful authors, not unknown ones."
"I'd like to get to know you better. How about dinner at my house tomorrow night? Not to brag, but I make a mean stir fry," Mr Castle offered.
"Lies! I was on the toilet for a week after the last one!" Javier called from under the car. The smirk could be heard in his voice. "And Kev nearly ended up in hospital with food poisoning. But you were fine. I sense some purposeful poisoning!"
"Shut up, Javi! He's flirting! We can mock him later! Or now," Kevin snapped with a chuckle. He was obviously enjoying the scene just as much as his friend.
"I'd love to. What's the address?" Kate replied, ignoring the boys. She could get to really love them like family, she felt.
"It's 21 Baker's Lane. Be there at 7. And ignore what those two say at all costs," Richard told her and watched Esposito lower the jack. "Is that you?"
"Yeah, all done. We'll put the punctured one back in your boot. Is that ok?" the other man nodded, pulling the tool out and handing it to Kevin, who passed it from hand to hand. Kate nodded, and the taller man lifted the wheel up like it was nothing. The corner of Kevin's mouth twitched at this; he'd struggled to even roll it.
"Thank you for the help. All three of you. I really hope this isn't the last time I meet you two. And Rick, I'll see you tomorrow night."
The three men piled back in their car and drove off, and Kate's head dropped against the back of her seat. "I love clichés."
If you've gotten far enough to read this, thanks. I know this isn't the sequel to 'Misplaced Protection' that you were expecting from me, but it's the first thing I've written since my novella, and I'm relieved to get it down on paper/ink. If you liked it, I'd appreciate a review. If you hated it, I'd still appreciate a review, and hopefully some kind of constructive criticism and not just "It was awful. It made me cringe. Never write again.". But anyway, thanks for reading this and not just scrolling straight past it with a look of disgust. Until next time, cheerio (I've never said that word in my life, and I don't think I'll ever say it again)!