A Certain British Secret Agent
By
UCSBdad
Disclaimer: I do not have a license to write about Castle. Rating: K Time: The indeterminate future.
"You're not going to write another Nikki Heat book?"
Castle saw the icy glare forming in his wife's beautiful hazel eyes and quickly replied.
"Of course, I'll wrote more Nikki Heat books. How could I not write more about Nikki? I'm madly in love with the woman she's based on, my remarkable muse."
"Then what did you mean?" Kate asked, the glare fading.
"I'm not going to write one just now. I've finished Searing Heat but I want to write something else. Something quick and then I'll get back to writing more Nikki.'
"What are you going to write now?"
"You remember I was offered the chance to write a rebranding of the stories of a certain British spy?"
Kate nodded. "And you couldn't come right out and say that you'd rather stay with me and write more Nikki Heat."
"And you couldn't come right out and say you wanted me to stay." Castle shot back.
"So now you want to write a James Bond book?"
He shook his head. "I can't. I don't own the rights to Bond, so I couldn't publish anything without being sued. But, I've always wondered if I could have written a Bond book. What I have planned is to write a book in the style of the Bond books but use different names. Sort of a roman a clef."
"But you'll go back to writing about Nikki?" Kate asked suspiciously.
"Absolutely. And given how close to the Bond books it'll be, I doubt Black Pawn would even think about publishing it. I even have a little something already written. Just to sort of get me in the mood. Want to read it?"
Kate took the offered laptop.
Dr. Gold's Diamond Casino of Solace
By
Richard Castle
He stepped out of his red Ferrari and walked confidently towards the casino. As he did, the crowd waiting to enter parted as if by magic for him. He could hear the whispers as he walked past the crowd. He had very superior hearing, among other things about him that were very superior.
"George, if only you were so handsome and dashing." Amal Clooney said to her husband.
"No one else is." He said sadly.
"Too bad you aren't as smart and creative as he is." Melinda Gates said to Bill.
"I know. I know." The billionaire sobbed.
"Stephen Hawking said he was the only person who really understood him." Neil de Grasse Tyson said. "And he was a great help on Stephen's final book."
At the door of the casino, he was stopped by an officious underling.
"Do you have a reservation, monsieur?" Said an unimportant man named Vaughn. "I'll have to see if your name is on the list."
He gave the man a glare that turned his bowels to water. Then spoke softly.
"Bond. Rick Bond."
"Of course, Mr. Bond. Please forgive me." The man blubbered.
Bond walked to the hat check girl. He dropped his fashionable fedora and his overcoat on the counter. Thanks to the magic of Q, the hat would turn into a helicopter gunship and the coat would become a fully functional nuclear submarine.
He remembered Q fondly. Dear Madison, she had cried so when he told her that there was only one woman for him and it wasn't Q. The next time he saw Q she had turned from a lovely blonde into an old man. It seems she had been operated on, having no wish to live on as a woman if she couldn't have Bond.
He recognized the hat check girl, of course. He remembered everything. She had had two failed TV shows on ABC, one in the Tuesday night death spot. It was a shame she had fallen to this.
"Mr. Bond? Can I please have a child with you?" She begged, tearing up.
He thought for a moment, then nodded. He handed her a sheaf of papers. "Of course. Fill out this questionnaire and send it in. It'll have to be artificial insemination, as you must know." Yes, there was only one woman for Rick Bond.
"Thank you. Thank you." She sobbed.
The noise of the casino faded as he walked into the main gaming room. However, he would go to where the high rollers played. And no one was a higher roller than Rick Bond.
He saw that his way to the upper floor was barred by some goon with more muscles than brains. He recognized the man as some thug named Demming.
"Sorry, pal." Demming sneered. "The boss left strict orders. You aren't allowed upstairs."
Bond smiled and took out his pen. Another of Q's tricks, this pen would change into a 155 mm cannon. However, Bond used it to draw a line by Demming's feet. Once Demming, who lacked the intelligence of a chicken, saw the line, he was unable to move. He could only stare at the line. Bond simply walked past him.
At the top of the stairs was another cheap hoodlum. Bond recognized him as a miscreant named Big Nursey. Bond's highly trained mind could recognize all miscreants.
"Stop right there, bud. You go no further." Big Nursey said in an odd, high pitched voice.
Bond smiled coldly. He could not only recognize every miscreant on the face of the earth, he knew their weaknesses.
"Vroom! Vroom!" He said, imitating perfectly the sound of a 1973 Harley-Davidson Electra Glide with the shovelhead engine. He knew full well that Big Nursey's mother had been terrified by an outlaw biker named Big Wild Death Mother riding that very machine while she had been pregnant with Big Nursey. Or perhaps that was the name of Big Nursey's mother. The records were unclear on that. However, the result was that Big Nursey broke down sobbing as Bond stepped past him.
He walked into the high roller's room to find that the only one seated at the card table was his nemesis.
The man smiled evilly at Bond.
"So, we meet again, 3.1416." He used Bond's Secret Service code name, something supposedly known only to a few.
"So we do, Pi. So we do."
Standing next to Pi was a lithesome redhead. She was scantily dressed so that Bond could clearly see the double D cup boob job she'd had, and her very long legs. Those were also the result of human medical contrivances and not to nature. However, there was only one set of long legs that interested Bond.
He smiled at the redhead.
"Hello, Zucchini." He said, using his per name for her.
The redhead blushed, remembering the incident that had caused Bond to give her that awful nickname.
Bond removed a small package from his bespoke tuxedo.
"I brought you a burqa. Put it on and leave."
Unable to resist, the redhead did just that, not taking the burqa off until she entered the convent.
"What shall we play for, Mr. Bond?" Pi asked, shuffling a deck of cards.
Bond snapped his fingers and the television came on.
"We can't play for your secret villain's lair in the extinct volcano in the Mid-Pacific, as the Royal Marines are rounding up your minions as we speak."
There on the screen were those Royal Marines, indeed rounding up minions.
Bond snapped his fingers again.
"We can't play for the communications satellite you stole in an attempt to brainwash all of Earth with subliminal advertisements. Her Majesty's Submarine Underestimated has just fired a missile at it and…."
The screen showed the satellite blowing up.
Bond snapped his fingers again.
"And we can't play for the super computer you were planning to use to hack all of the world's computers, as a force of genetically altered raccoons is putting paid to that."
The screen showed a group of oversized raccoons, with the Union Jack on their furry backs, hard at work destroying the computer. One of them faced the screen and gave the well-known V for victory sign.
"Good show, Esposito. Bloody good show." Bond said.
"There is only one thing left to play for." Pi snarled. "The life of that ace Canadian super spy, Corinne Veneau."
Pi snapped his fingers and a curtain parted. There, tied to a chair, was Corinne Veneau, the love of Bond's life. He loved her from the bottoms of her magnificent legs, to her, well magnificent bottom, to her perky boobs and on to her gorgeous hazel eyes to her curly mane of honey brown hair.
Bond smiled. "Shall we cut cards for her? High card wins?"
Pi smiled evilly. (Actually he was incapable of smiling any other way.) He cut the deck of cards and held the card up for Bond to see.
"I seem to have drawn the ace of clubs, Mr. Bond."
Bond smiled and cut the cards, then held up the card to Pi.
"That's impossible!" The now former super villain cried. "You only took one card. How could you have gotten all three remaining aces?"
"Because I'm Bond. Rick Bond."
Now emotionally shattered, Pi slunk away, eventually ending up in Costa Rica where he studied the mating habits of bees. The bees, unhappy at having their conjugal activities interrupted stung Pi mercilessly. He didn't notice, the pain of being bested by Rick Bond blotted out all other minor pain.
Rick untied Corinne.
"Shall we go my dear?"
"Rick, I want to bear your children." The gorgeous Canadian breathed in his ear.
"You'll do more than that, I have Westminster Abbey reserved for our wedding. I suppose we'll have to use my hat to get there on time."
"Oh, Rick."
The End
Kate put the laptop down.
"The lithesome redhead was…?"
"Meredith, of course."
"Zucchini?"
"Don't ask. But what did you think of it?"
"Don't you think you went a little bit overboard? A coat that turns into a nuclear submarine? Getting three aces on one card? And where did you ever come up with the name Corinne Veneau?"
"It just popped into my head. Do you think you could write it better?" He challenged.
Kate took the laptop back and began typing.
To be continued.