I love a challenge and I don't mind honest criticism of the writing but abhor those with minds are so set in stone that they refuse to expand their worldview by opening up their minds to new possibilities. Those people are sheep and generally too stupid to think for themselves. So if you fit this definition, go read some fluffy K stuff. This is definitely not your story.

This is OFC (Other Female Character) but I haven't finished it yet so who knows where it will end up. One thing for sure NO SLASH!

OM

My Name is Elena by Oldest Man
Chapter 1

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

~ T.S. Eliot 1925

The NEST team had transferred the bomb to a waiting trailer pulled by a large tractor. The unmarked trailer and its cargo would meld in with traffic and be someplace secure within a few hours.

It was finally over and everyone was going home with or to a loved one.

"Castle, I'll have one of my men give you a lift home. You did a good thing here tonight, Rick. You and Beckett – you're quite the team. Where'd she run off to? I expected you two to be inseparable after this."

"She left with her boyfriend after we debriefed. Yeah, I could use a ride home. I'm going to pack up and leave the city and reconnect with my girls. It's been a long week and the last few days – well, I don't have to tell you."

"A boyfriend? I thought you two were together. Hell, you should be. A blind man could see that." Fallon shut up abruptly when he saw the look in Castle's eyes. Apparently one person was blind – Detective Beckett.

"No. We're just work colleagues, friends, nothing else. If you're done here can I get that ride now?" Fallon just nodded not wanting to dig deeper into an already gaping wound.

Castle's Loft

The loft was silent and empty and somehow that fit his needs. He was so tired that the just stripped off his clothes and crawled into the shower and set the water temperature as hot as he could stand it and just let the warmth permeate his bones. He still could feel the chill from the freezer but at least now it was manageable.

He toweled off and pulled on clean boxers and a sweatshirt and buried himself under as many blankets as he could find and finally slept.

He slept until early afternoon and only awoke to the insistent trilling of his cell phone. He looked at the caller information and hit 'ignore' and then got up and took another long hot shower.

Castle knew that he was done kicking the proverbial dead horse. Some things were just not meant to be. It was Fate. His Fate. It was time to accept it and move on.

He threw casual clothes into a carryall and grabbed his laptop and headed out for The Hamptons and the only women he knew he could trust implicitly.

Beckett's apartment

Kate disconnected the call to Castle without leaving a voicemail. He wasn't responding to her text messages and now he was avoiding her calls. She shouldn't have walked away with Josh without at least making sure he had a ride. After all, they were partners.

She wondered if he was home, buried under every blanket he owned, just as she had been. Was he as lonely as she'd been? Why hadn't he responded to her texts and why wasn't he answering his phone?

Making up her mind, she threw on casual clothes and grabbed her car keys from the table and left for Castle's loft. If he was okay, she'd leave. If not, she'd stay until he was, no matter what it took.

Castle's Apartment Building
Security Desk

The man at the desk stopped her before she could get on the elevator.

"Ms. Beckett, the Castle family is not in residence. Mr. Castle left earlier for his house in The Hamptons and has requested that his mail be forwarded to him there until further notice."

"Oh, okay. Thank you. I'll call him there."

She left, frustrated and curious. Why hadn't he answered her text? Why wasn't he answering her calls? Why, why, why?

Traffic was unusually light and his foot unusually heavy and he pushed his antique 1952 MGB-TD to greater speeds unconsciously fleeing the city and it's constraints.

In times past he might have termed his abrupt departure as a strategic withdrawal, a planned fallback to a strong point from which to launch his next assault, but not now.

He was disengaging, severing ties, and removing himself from the source of his pain. His withdrawal was neither tactical nor strategic. He was running - flat out – for cover. There would be no final assault, no last stand. He was done with her. He'd pissed away 3 years of his life - not one more moment would he devote to her.

The farther he got from the city he loved, the easier it was to breathe and the warmer he felt. He pulled onto the verge and folded back the top and brought out his custom-made tonneau cover from the boot and buttoned it into place and then roared back onto the LIE to make his connection with the coast road and The Hamptons. He cranked up the CD player and let the Bose system take him away to happier times.

Castle's Summer Home
The Hamptons

Alexis had called her father several times with no answer. After several rings the call was transferred to voice mail and that meant his cell was on but he just couldn't or wouldn't answer. There was no answer on the house phone either so she'd resorted to subterfuge and called the security desk at the building but had been told that he'd left mid-afternoon with a bag and said to forward the mail to 'the Summer House' until further notice. He also mentioned that Detective Beckett had been by to see him but he'd already left.

"Grams! Dad's on his way up here. He forwarded the mail so he must be planning on staying a while. He isn't answering his cell phone but the security guy at the building said he left this afternoon and had a bag."

"Good. Maybe your father can shed some light on why we were dragged out of our home in the dead of night and sent out here to the beach when I had plans."

"Grams, you're not on stage here and your 'plans' consisted of a few life counseling sessions that probably weren't going have all that big an impact on anyone's life. I mean c'mon, Grams, it's not like anyone really pays any mind to that New Age bilge, do they?"

"The younger generation has no respect anymore. I'll have you know that…"

Alexis, not wanting to hear more New Age prattle, smiled, kissed her grandmother on the cheek and took off for her room. At least there she could escape all the drama spewing from the Queen herself.

"No, respect. I get no respect at all. Oh, Rodney, you were so right."

Castle's drive

The towns fly by on Route 27. Southampton, Water Mill, Bridgehampton, East Hampton and Amagansett. He's well into Hither Hills State Park when he realizes where he is. Stunned that he's driven so far past his exit and shook up that he hadn't even been aware of it, he motored down to a respectable 45mph and listened once again to the sounds of Maynard Ferguson at the Newport Jazz Festival so many decades ago. Even now he got goose bumps listening to the man and his band.

He saw a sign indicating that he was entering the city limits of Montauk and he grinned. 'All these years coming to the Island and I've never seen the Light'.

The author in him laughed at his delightful play on words. He meant the Montauk Light and his subconscious had meant 'the light' of his decision to quit the 12th and allow the Shadow to disappear in the light. He chuckled at his own cornball wit.

He drove slowly into Montauk proper, the Eastern-most town on the Island. Famous for a lot of things, it was most famous for being the site of the Montauk Light, now surrounded by Montauk State Park. He was suddenly ravenously hungry and decided to spend the remainder of the day finding something to eat and then going out to the Light. If it wasn't too late or he wasn't too damned tired, he would drive back to The Hampton house and surprise the girls.

He found a classic diner near the edge of town across from a Motel 6. He pulled in and walked inside, enjoying the sense of being in a place that hadn't changed in decades. A family was just leaving, their two young boys holding their deserts – two large ice cream cones – when the older boy jostled the arm of the younger and his scoops of ice cream fell off the cone and onto the floor.

The look on the boy's face was classic: anger and grief all mixed up. Castle chuckled at how the boy clenched his fist and lashed out, popping his older brother in the arm, ignoring the sudden crying of 'Mom, Jimmy hit me!" and watching as a slender dark haired waitress came over, bent down and cleaned up the mess and then led the younger boy behind the counter.

"Here. I will make you another cone. Don't be sad. And don't hit your brother like that again, hear me?" The boy just nodded and the woman, certainly no teenager, made him another cone and then sent him on his way. Castle watched her reach into her apron and take out some bills, her tip money, and then ring up the sale on the cash register, paying for the replacement herself.

It seemed so out of place, so unusual an act compared to what he'd been exposed to lately. It was an altruistic act of kindness that he felt must be rewarded.

He sat at the counter and ordered coffee and a burger and watched the young woman as she placed the order through a window and then brought him his coffee.

"That was nice."

"What was? I don't understand. It is just coffee."

"No, I meant what you did for the boy. That was a nice thing to do."

"It was nothing. And he did say 'thank you'."

"Still, it was a nice thing you did. And with your own money, too. A very nice thing."

She blushed and turned away, busying herself with cleaning the counter and bussing tables. Castle looked around at the now empty diner. Apparently he'd just missed the busy time.

The cook slapped a bell and said something and the waitress hurried over and took the plate with Castle's hamburger over to him and asked if there was anything else she could get for him?

"A refill on the coffee would be appreciated." His glance took in her classic facial structure of high cheekbones, wide-set eyes so green they were startling, a generous mouth with full lips. There was evidence of invasion in her eyes – slightly almond shaped, something left in her gene pool from the Tartar invasions perhaps. The only flaw he could see was a circular scar on her right wrist that seemed so out of place on an otherwise perfect woman.

The things only a writer noticed…

When he finished his meal and coffee, he left a tip under the plate with a note attached and then paid her at the register. He looked at her and smiled. It felt like he hadn't smiled in ages and she returned his smile and blushed and returned to her work.

Castle was tired. Exhausted and cold. He drove across the highway to the Motel 6 and got a room and then saw that the lights of the town were coming on and one in particular caught his eye – Montauk Liquors.

He dumped his bag in the room and then walked up the street to the liquor store. He bought a fifth of cheap Scotch and returned to his room and proceeded to get snockered, shit-faced, roaring drunk – all prompted by a text from Beckett asking if he was OK. He read it, deleted it and opened the bottle and poured a large water glass full of the potent liquor. Three years was long enough to figure out she's just not that into him.

The young woman was thrilled with the money but upset that someone saw her at her most vulnerable. She keeps the note wondering if someday she'll be able to thank this mysterious 'Rick Castle' for his generosity.

Her boss, another Russian émigré, sees the size of the tip and the note and thinks his newest employee might just be a prostitute or something and he confronts her with his suspicions, demanding to see the note. He doesn't want any problems with the police.

"Katya, I do not permit employees to – " and stops as he reads the note from the man.

"I am sorry. I leaped to a conclusion and I am ashamed. This man, he is a writer of books and very rich. Most people, they don't see people like us. Maybe this guy is different. He lives part-time in The Hamptons. Perhaps you will see him again. But do as he says, do something nice for yourself."

"I want nothing to do with this man. Perhaps he is kind but then I have seen his kind before – they only want people like us, Leonid, for what use we can be and then they discard us. No. I will use the money but I want nothing to do with the man."

After her shift ends and she is walking back to the small efficiency apartment she shares with two other girls she cannot help but think of him, his ready smile, his understanding, and she decides she will thank him if she sees him again. She will thank him. If she ever sees him again.

The next morning Rick woke up hung over and walked across the highway to the diner for coffee. He looked around but didn't see the young woman he tipped so heavily and sighed but decided 'it's for the best'. He doesn't want her gratitude and he doesn't want another woman in his life screwing it up. Beckett had her 'one and done' and he'd had 'two and done' – meaning no more women except for his nutball mother and his adorable and ever surprising daughter who had raised him despite his best efforts to stay a kid forever. Beckett would be pleased that he's finally, finally, seen the light.

The cook, who also owns the diner, walked from behind the counter and places a large breakfast platter in front of Castle

"Breakfast is on the house. That was a wonderful thing you did for Katya. Too few people reward such acts of kindness. And she needs the money. She is new and trying to find her place in this country. She is a hard worker and saves her pay."

Castle makes up an excuse for his generosity and the cook just looks at him and smirks.

"Quit trying to be someone you are not. Eat your breakfast and perhaps Katya will be in shortly. Please do not embarrass her. But do not think that she is a party girl. Katya is not like that. Besides, I give her enough trouble as it is." He said this with a twinkle in his eye. He obviously took his 'father figure' role seriously.

Castle's cell trilled Alexis' ring tone and he smiled. "Gotta take this call from my special lady." He started to get up and noted the scowl on the face of the man who'd introduced himself as 'Leonid'.

"It's my daughter. She and my mother are at the house and I've been busy and she's probably wondering where the hell I am. Thank you for breakfast but I have to go. Katya is lucky to work for someone who doesn't take advantage of her. Maybe I'll drop by the next time I'm up this way."

Rick starts talking to Alexis and immediately feels guilty for his drunken night. His daughter had expected him and she was worried.

A few minutes later Katya comes in, late because she was shopping. The cook tells her 'you just missed your Mr. Castle' and she sighs and smiles ruefully. Of all the mornings to be late, she had to pick this one.

She mutters something to herself and then goes into the back room to change into her work uniform, Castle forgotten. Her concerns center on earning her keep, learning to speak English with more proficiency and establishing a new identity.

Still, he had a wonderful smile and a good heart. And he did say he would stop by the next time he was in town. To bad she wouldn't be there.

Katya Karpov had outlived her usefulness. It was time to go back to her superiors' original plan but use what information she'd learned to further her agenda. She would email her support and ask for a dossier on Richard Castle.

One never knew who might turn out to be useful.

End Chapter 1