This story starts at the same place as the series does, but I will not take their relationship as slowly. Also, I will rehash a few scenes for the sake of establishing their relationship, but I'll be adding my own scenes and dialogue. ONLY the pilot will be taken into consideration, minus a few things taken from other epsidoes. It's even more AU from then on. Oh, and Rick is actually Ricki. Ricki is a woman. :p This idea was born of a kink meme prompt over at kinkofthecastle.
PROMPT: Ricki Castle is annoying and friends with the mayor. She is also tall, gorgeous, blue-eyed and charming. Working with her side-by-side, Beckett starts to question her sexuality. Basically Caskett femslash.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not for profit. The usual stuff. Etc.
Your warm whispers
Out of the dark they carry my heart
Detective Kate Beckett made her way through the thick crowd, looking for the famous author. Her favorite author. Not that she'd ever admit that out loud. To anyone. Ever.
"Beckett," Esposito said, pointing towards the bar where, sure enough, there was the writer signing autographs. And then signing a twenty-something's busty chest. Alright, then.
Sighing, Kate, started towards the bar, feeling out of place in her tailored pantsuit among the sea of glitz and glamour. But she didn't allow that feeling to get in the way of her job. She never did.
"Ricki Castle?" she called out over the loud music as she neared the mystery writer, who was now engaged in conversation with a redheaded teenaged girl.
The tall, immaculately-dressed, and drop dead gorgeous, woman turned, a glimmer of intrigue in her bright blue eyes. "Where do you want it?" she asked, holding up the uncapped Sharpie, poising to sign another autograph.
Kate, attempting and failing to hide her slight eye roll, flashed her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."
Ricki's charming smile faltered briefly as surprise spread over her chiseled features, but the smile quickly returned, a hint of suggestion now apparent. "You can haul me away any time, Detective."
Ricki Castle, mystery writer and womanizer extraordinaire, had somehow wormed her way onto Kate's team as a consultant. A freaking consultant! Kate ground her teeth in frustration as she watched her captain make his retreat after refusing to discuss this… situation with her in private.
Kate's view was suddenly blocked by the tall, lithe form of one Ricki Castle, a smug look on her perfectly chiseled features. "Looks like we're partners!" Ricki said, voice full of excitement.
Kate blinked a few times, then abruptly turned away and stalked off to the a nearby room to get started on sorting through the fan mail.
"What'd I say?" Ricki asked the room, noting two other detective sitting close by. One was the dude that had been with the sexy brunette detective the previous night at the launch party.
One of the detectives, whose name she later learned was Ryan, leaned back in his chair. "Beckett doesn't really do the whole partner thing," he said.
Ricki cocked her head slightly. "Aren't you two her partners?"
The other detective, Esposito, shook his head. "We"—his indicated Ryan and himself—"are partners. Beckett's more like our boss. But she's good at her job."
"Very good," Ryan added.
"And she takes finding justice for the families of murder victims seriously," Esposito continued. "Give her a chance to warm up to you. I'm sure she'll come around."
Ricki shrugged, then followed the surly detective into the room. She found Kate already rifling through and reading the letters. Ricki sat catty corner, intent on helping, but Kate stopped her before she could reach out for the next letter in the hefty pile.
"Wait!" Kate snapped, causing Ricki to jump in her seat. She looked up and caught the detective's annoyed look.
"What?" she asked. "I just want to help."
"Gloves," Kate replied tersely, indicating a box of latex gloves.
Ricki pulled out two gloves and put them on, snapping the wrists like you see doctors on TV doing. "I've always wondered why TV doctors do that," she said, attempting to lighten the mood. Kate just ignored her and kept reading. Ricki sighed and picked up a letter to start the hunt.
Kate focused on the letter in front of her, attempting to forget all about the infuriating—yet intriguing—woman. Kate was a tall woman, reaching just over six feet in her four inch heels, yet Ricki still stood a good two inches taller than her in her own three inch heeled boots. Her dark brown, mid-length hair fell around her shoulders in thick waves, framing her high cheekbones and slightly crooked, but still heart-stopping, smile.
It was no secret that Ricki Castle, famous mystery writer, was a twice divorced lady lover, confident in her sexuality with a bit of a playgirl image. These facts had not diminished her success in the slightest, nor had it diminished Kate's love of the mystery writer's books. The very books that had helped her get through her mother's murder.
Kate had actually stood in line for over an hour to get the author to sign her copy of Flowers for Your Grave when she was a senior in college. Actually, it had been her mother's copy. She'd found it lying on her mother's nightstand just days after she'd been stabbed in that back alley. The book had been marked on the second to last chapter, but it was obvious from the wear and tear that it had been read several times already. Kate had never read a Ricki Castle novel up to that point, though her mother had told her to give them a chance several times. That night, she'd read the entire book from cover to cover. Since then, she'd read every novel the woman had written several times. Not that she'd admit that to the writer. Ever.
Ten minutes passed and the silence was killing Ricki. She snuck a peek at Kate over the top of the letter currently in her hands, noting the adorable furrow on her brow as she concentrated. Seconds later, Kate looked up, meeting her gaze. Ricki quickly returned her focus to the letter, but Kate noticed.
"What?" Kate asked, sounding exasperated.
"Nothing," Ricki rushed out. "It's just, uh, the way your brow furrows when you're thinking… it's cute." She smiled. "I mean, not if you're playing poker. Then it'd be deadly." Ricki grinned at her own flirty behavior. The young detective, probably about eight or ten years younger than her own thirty-eight years, was so cute when she was annoyed. Which is probably why Ricki pushed a bit too hard with her "I'm going to totally psycho-analyze you now" spiel where she perhaps crossed the line by guessing (correctly, she assumed) that something bad had happened to someone Kate was close to. Probably a close family member, maybe even a parent or sibling. She could read the pain on the detective's face and she mentally kicked herself.
Luckily, the moment was diffused by Kate finding a creepy letter. They moved on to the suspect.
Kate was fuming. The mayor—the motherfreaking mayor—had demanded that she allow freaking Ricki Castle to shadow her. As she wrote a new character based upon her life. And Captain Montgomery was allowing it.
And there was nothing she could do but suck it up, apparently.
So, the next day when she got a call at 6:52AM, she did what she was expected to do and called the writer's cell phone. All she said was an address, then pressed END. She wasn't really a morning persona to begin with.
Kate was surprised to see Ricki leaning against a lamppost as she pulled up to the scene. The author was holding two to go coffee cups and held one up as Kate approached. "Grande skim latte, two pumps sugar-free vanilla."
Kate took the proffered coffee, stunned. "How'd you know my usual?" she asked, impressed and suspicious at the same time.
Ricki grinned, sipping her own coffee. "I have a few tricks of my own, Detective," she said.
Kate eyed her as she sipped the latte. It was hot and sweet and delicious. "Thanks," she muttered, turning to head into the building where the body was. She filled the writer in on the sparse details she already knew.
"This reeks of CIA cover up!" Ricki insisted several hours later once back at the precinct. All three detectives—Kate, Ryan, and Esposito—turned to star at the writer. Ricki jumped to her feet and moved to stand in front of the murder board. "No, look, it totally makes sense! Walter was disappearing for days at a time, right? He told his wife is was for his job, but he was 'fired' from that job six months ago. Total CIA cover up!"
Kate rolled her eyes. "Or," she said, "he was another roaming john who wasn't satisfied by one woman, so he was having an affair." She turned to face Ryan. "Run his financials and see if anything pops. Hotel stays, sudden jewelry purchases, fancy restaurants… the usual."
"On it," Ryan said, turning on his heel to head to his desk to get started.
"Espo, talk to the vic's family and friends again. See if anyone had any inclination of him straying outside his marriage."
"As you wish," Esposito responded with a slight bow, then left. Kate chuckled under her breath and shook her head. She absolutely loved her team.
"So what do we do now? Go on a steak out of Walter's apartment? Interrogate the wife? See if she found out about his cheating ways and decided to make him pay by shooting him in the face? Or, if she found out he was actually CIA and had to kill him because she's a CIA mole?! Oh, that's good…"
Kate ignored the writer, sitting at her desk and picking up her phone to call the morgue, hoping Lanie had something new for her.
She didn't.
"I'm hungry, when do you break for lunch?" Ricki said as she settled into the chair beside Kate's desk, leaning on the corner. She was much too close for Kate's liking.
"There's a vending machine in the break room," Kate said off handedly as she filtered through her emails, looking for the autopsy report Lanie said she'd sent.
Ricki scoffed. "A vending machine?! You can't be serious. You're telling me you don't actually eat a real lunch?"
Kate shrugged. "Sometimes," she said, clicking on the email with the report attached. "It's busy here. Sometimes we don't really have time to leave to eat."
Ricki looked around her. "Well, what's stopping you now? The boys are doing their tasks and you're reading a report that won't tell you a thing."
Kate glanced at Ricki. "How would you know that?"
"I could read it in your voice when you were talking to Lanie," Ricki replied offhandedly. "Come on, I'm starving. Let's go get food. My treat. I'll even bring some back for the boys."
"Do it!" Ryan called out, having heard the last bit. "I didn't get to eat breakfast and I'm hungry and tired of that friggen vending machine garbage!"
Kate wanted to protest, really she did, but her stomach had been rumbling for the past hour, reminding her of her own meager breakfast of a single granola bar hours before. "Fine," she sighed. "But nowhere fancy."
"Great!" Ricki said, jumping up and grabbing her coat. "And I'll let you pick, Detective."
Kate chose Remy's, famous for their hamburgers and fries. She was surprised when the writer didn't complain. She figured Ricki was used to finer dining than greasy hamburgers in a tiny, hole-in-the-wall diner.
"This place is so cool!" Ricki said in awe as they sat in a booth beside the window. "It's a cop hangout, right?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that," Kate said, pulling two menus out from the holder and passing one to Ricki.
"I definitely have to include a place like this in the new book," Ricki said offhandedly as her perused the menu.
Kate, already knowing what she wanted, snapped her menu closed and set it aside. "So, how much of my life are you going to include in this little book of yours?"
Ricki looked up, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the 'little book' remark, but otherwise ignoring the dig. "Well, Nikki is going to be really smart, very savvy, haunting good looks, really good at her job… and kinda slutty." She gave Kate devilish grin.
"Castle!" Kate quipped, not amused.
Ricki smiled in delight. "Castle? Like a cop? Sweet!"
Kate just glared at her, arms crossed. Just then, the waitress arrived to take their orders, then left with the promise to return with their food shortly.
Ricki sighed and leaned forward on the table. "Look, Nikki is based on you, yes, but I don't write biographies. I write fiction. You don't have anything to worry about. I promise."
Kate scoffed. "Sure," she said, not convinced in the least. "Also, Nikki? Really?"
Ricki nodded. "Detective Nikki Heat, NYPD."
"Heat? Are you serious?!"
"What's wrong with the name?" Ricki asked, both amused and a little bit afraid of Kate's wrath.
"It's a stripper name!" Kate countered, louder than she'd intended. Her cheeks flushed a bit when other patrons turned their heads to face her. She lowered her voice. "Change the name," she demanded.
"I don't want to," Ricki said.
"Change the name," Kate repeated.
"I have artistic integrity."
Kate was about to tell Ricki just where she could shove her 'artistic integrity' when the waitress returned with their drinks.
"So just how long are you going to be following me around?" Kate asked when they were alone once again.
Ricki shrugged, sipping on her drink. "Who knows how long it'll take for inspiration to strike?" She neglected to mention that she had the entire novel already outlined and planned out in detail, the first three chapters already written. And it had been less than a week since their first meeting.
"Anyone ever tell you that you have a habit of being incredibly annoying?"
"My mother and daughter remind me of this on a daily basis," Ricki replied, grinning like she was proud of the fact.
Kate shook her head. "I still can't picture you as the mother of a teenager," she said.
"I know, I don't look nearly old enough to have a fifteen-year-old, do I?"
She really didn't, in Kate's opinion, but that's not what she'd meant. "No, I mean—"
"I know what you meant, Detective," Ricki interrupted, turning serious. "And I know I don't seem like the most responsible or level headed person in the world, but I assure you I'm a good mother. Alexis and I have a great relationship and I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Kate studied her, liking this new side of her. "She seems like a good kid," she said, remembering their brief meeting when the young redhead had shown up at the precinct.
Ricki nodded. "She is," she said. "Incredibly smart and has never been in any kind of trouble. She's about as perfect a teenager as can get."
Kate raised her eyebrows. "And you're sure she's your daughter?" she asked, a teasing hint to her voice.
Ricki chucked. "Technically, she's not related by blood to me," she explained. "Her other mother, Meredith, carried her and I legally adopted her when she was born. But that actually makes Alexis' level head a rational logic even more bizarre because Meredith…" She trailed off and shook her head, chuckling slightly as she thought about her ex-wife.
"Wait, you mean to tell me that you're the 'responsible' parent of the two of you?" Kate didn't believe it for a second.
"That's why I have full custody," Ricki said. "Meredith is… she's a bit flighty. She loves Alexis, but she's more like the cool aunt who comes to town once a year from L.A. and takes her shopping than an actual mother."
Kate nodded, wondering how anyone could be so absent from their child's life, but didn't say anything, knowing it was not her place. "I gotta say, Castle, this whole domestic side of you is kind of refreshing."
"Makes you want me, right?"
Kate sighed. "And then you have to go and ruin it," she said, rolling her eyes. But her annoyance only served to hide her true reaction. Strange enough, it did make her want Ricki. Whatever that meant. It's not like Kate was 'into' women that way. She was straight, for heaven's sake! She enjoyed sex with men.
Their food arrived and they ate in silence for several minutes, Ricki thoroughly enjoying her cheeseburger and fries, and Kate lost in her own thoughts.
What was this… thing she was feeling? She'd never been attracted to a woman before. Well, that wasn't completely true, she reminded herself. There was Steph, her roommate at Stanford before she'd transferred to NYU. Steph had been openly gay. Nothing had ever happened between them, but Kate had been well aware that her interest in the girl hadn't been purely platonic. She's not sure what, if anything, would have transpired between them had she not left. But since then, she hadn't felt that way about a woman. Until the woman sitting across from her licking ketchup off her finger had entered her life.
Oh, boy.
A/N: I'm really nervous about this. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think! Reviews make me happy (and encourage me to write quicker!). I have this marked as rated T, but it'll have M content later on (I'll change the rating then). So stay tuned! :)