Title: Brainwashed by Creavers
Summary: He should have stayed away from it, but like a siren's song, that box containing her Nebula 9 costumes lured him closer. It was her own fault, really, for leaving it out like that. Post Final Frontier oneshot.
Spoilers: Through Final Frontier.
A/N: This is mostly just a self indulgent, somewhat meta post-episode piece that badgered me until I finished it. Reviews are always appreciated.
She was going to kill him.
Castle had no idea how she would do it - maybe slow and painful, maybe quick and merciful. But he knew that it would happen, that she would do it.
The whole situation could have been easily avoided, of course. He could have stayed out of the box she'd brought over from her apartment, the one conspicuously unmarked but obviously containing her Nebula 9 costumes. He should have stayed away from it, but like a siren's song, that box lured him closer. It was her own fault, really, for leaving it out like that. She knew he'd be tempted.
And so that evening, as Kate lay asleep on the couch, the obnoxious tones of cheesy sci-fi music and overdramatic Gabriel Winters drifting lazily from the television, Castle carefully extracted himself from her warm embrace and tip-toed into his bathroom where she'd left the box.
It was a large plastic container with a lid that sealed, not a flimsy cardboard box as he'd been expecting. She obviously wanted to keep what was inside well preserved. On the top was the creaver mask, which he could not help but shudder at the sight of. After seeing Kate in it so... unexpectedly, he had an aversion to the creature that was now even stronger than his dislike of Sandpeople, Ferengi, and Reavers.
Taking care not to touch the offending mask, he flipped it off the top of the box as he removed the lid. Inside he found a treasure trove of Nebula 9 paraphernalia - video tapes of the show, t-shirts, costumes, a toy Thorian blaster, and even a couple of signed photos from cast members. But one item caught his attention above all the rest.
A 3.5 floppy disk labeled simply "Nebula 9."
He almost laughed at the antiquated electronic storage device. He hadn't seen one of those in over a decade, not since the rise of burnable CDs.
Pangs of curiosity swept over Castle and he could not resist the pull of it as the need to know what was on that disk led him into his office. Somewhere in a cabinet or a box, he knew he had a floppy drive he could plug into a USB port on his laptop. He'd bought it about the same time the 3.5 floppy disks were being replaced by CDs and then had promptly forgotten about it.
After twenty minutes of searching, Castle finally found the portable drive and after plugging it into one of the free ports on his computer, spent another ten minutes arguing with the laptop that it could find the software necessary to run the thing.
By the time he was ready to put the floppy disk into the drive, his fear of Kate's wrath was beginning to catch up to his overwhelming curiosity to know what was on it. He'd found the thing in her Nebula 9 box, so it had to do with that show. Maybe pictures? Episode guides? But why keep things on an old disk that could easily be found online again?
She was going to kill him, he decided as he slid the disk into the drive, but at least he'd die with one more mystery solved.
The floppy drive clicked and sputtered to life as it pulled up a window on his computer showing the files on the disk. And there were a lot of files.
Noting the word processing file type, Castle quickly scanned the titles for any indication of what they contained.
Max&Chloe-Forever
Max&Chloe-Lost Hearts
Chloe-BrainwashedByCreavers
Max&Chloe-Betrayal
Chloe-AcademyDays
The list continued and Castle's eyes grew wide as he began to understand what he had on the screen in front of him. It was impossible, surely. He knew Kate had an inner geek - she'd demonstrated that on more than one occasion. But this? It was too much.
Nebula 9 fan fiction.
Kate's own Nebula 9 fan fiction, perhaps? Unable to resist, he clicked on one of the documents. A screen instantly popped up demanding a password. Castle frowned at the security feature. Who passworded fan fiction? Unless...
Unless it was adult fan fiction.
Oh, she was so going to kill him. But he had to read it.
Castle began guessing passwords, starting with her birth date and moving on to that of her mother and father. He tried to think of the passwords a young college student would pick. He made various combinations of legal terms and characters from the show, hoping that his knowledge of Kate would lead him to the proper password.
Finally, after another twenty minutes of wrong guesses, he finally hit upon it.
Chloe4Max
Oh, he was going to tease her unmercifully, not only about the story but also her total lack or originality at picking passwords. Except, he wasn't really because if she found out about this-
"Castle?"
The sound of her sleepy, confused voice as she awoke alone in the other room carried in to him. Fear jolted through him as he mentally pictured her getting up from the couch, an episode of Nebula 9 still playing on the television, and heading towards the office in search of him.
He moved just quickly enough to meet her at the door. Unfortunately, his guilt must have shown clearly on his face. Despite fighting off grogginess, Kate raised an eyebrow at him.
"What are you doing in here?"
"Um... writing."
The way he said it, the word sounded more like a bad alibi than an explanation.
"You got the urge to write while watching a Nebula 9 marathon?" she queried.
"Well... yeah. You were right - this show isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was."
Okay, so that statement was probably a little over the top. Kate clearly did not believe him as she crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze at him suspiciously.
"Admit it Castle - you waited for me to fall asleep, and then you snuck out so you wouldn't have to watch the show," she accused, although through her annoyance he could see amusement glimmering in her eyes.
Not only was she going to kill him, she was going to enjoy it.
But at least she had been diverted from his real crime by suspecting him of a different motive. With a heavy sigh, he admitted, "You caught me. I just couldn't take it any more. I came in here to escape."
Letting his shoulders slump, Castle gave the indication that he had given in to his fate, ready for her to lead him back to the living room and that dreaded Nebula 9 marathon. But it seemed that the universe had other ideas.
A noise suddenly interrupted them. At first, it sounded like a cheesy sound effect from Kate's favorite campy sci fi show, but in reality, Castle realized in slow-motion horror, it was the old external 3.50floppy drive which had sputtered to life and begun clicking and whirring as it read the decade-old disk.
"What's that?" Kate asked.
"Nothing," he responded, a little too quickly.
With a roll of the eyes, Kate stepped around him into the office in search of the strange sound. He tried to block her way, but she was too fast for him, obviously spurred by curiosity to see what he was attempting to hide.
She chuckled when she found the floppy drive, picking it up as she traced the cord to the USB port on the side of his lap top. "I didn't know they still made these," she observed.
"They don't-" he began, but trailed off as she turned to look at the screen of his computer. Castle quickly slammed the laptop shut and smiled at her in triumph, having managed to thwart her inquisitive nature.
Kate shook her head at him before pressing the button on the floppy drive. With a click, the piece of electronics belched out the little plastic disk. Castle lunged for it, but she was too quick, dodging out of his grasp. Her movement had turned her away from him, and he realized in the instant he saw her freeze in place that she recognized the floppy disk and her own college-aged handwriting.
She was going to kill him.
But when she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Castle, this is mine," she observed as though she were momentarily flummoxed over how he had gained possession of it. But as understanding began to dawn, she turned back to him.
"You went through my stuff?" Kate demanded, looking so much more hurt than the time she'd caught him looking through her drawers at work. So much more hurt than he'd ever intended.
"Um..."
Before he could compose an adequate apology, she continued on, "Castle, this is mine. I didn't share this with you."
She spoke as though he were a child, and he suddenly felt very much like he was 8 years old again, chastised by his mother for going through her closet. "I know," he said.
"Why were you even looking at this?"
The betrayal in her tone was almost too much for him to bear.
With a shrug, he responded, "I wanted to see what you wrote..."
"What I wrote," Kate repeated, growing angry. "Castle, you opened this? You looked at what was on this?"
"I... um..." Well, apparently it was time to come clean. "I tried to, but the files were password protected."
"You're damned right they were password protected," she shot back. "Because they're private."
"I know, I shouldn't have tried to open the files," Castle said. "But I realized what it probably was when I saw the file names, and I thought it would be fun to see what you wrote."
Her eyes flashed with something even more white-hot than anger. The expression was almost as disconcerting as her carefully controlled voice. "That is a total invasion of privacy."
So she wasn't denying it. That disk contained what he thought it contained. He forced down his excitement, instead showing contrition.
Castle said, "I know and I'm sorry. I should have just asked you."
Oh yeah, she was definitely going to kill him. Before, he may have gotten away with a slight maiming, maybe even a permanent disfiguration. But now, he had guaranteed the finality of his punishment. She was going to kill him. And as a homicide detective, she probably knew exactly what to do to get away with murder...
"So, can I?" he pressed on, figuring that if he was in for a penny, he was in for a pound.
"Can you what?" Kate demanded, incredulous.
"Can I read what you wrote?"
Her expression betrayed such astonishment at the request that an observer would have believed he'd just sprouted a second head to warrant the reaction.
A moment later, Kate had composed herself enough to respond, "You really think I'm going to let my best-selling author boyfriend read something I wrote - for fun - when I was a teenager in college? You are out of your mind, Castle."
"Oh, come on," he cajoled.
"There's no way. Never, in a million years."
"You've read what I've written," he pointed out.
It actually was fair. Quid pro quo. He'd already showed her his. Why shouldn't she show him hers?
"Books you've published," she responded. "Publically. And besides, I paid money for your books."
Not bothering to point out that she'd been receiving free, signed copies of his newer works since he'd begun shadowing her at the precinct, Castle offered instead, "I'll pay you if you let me read it."
Rolling her eyes again, Kate began, "I don't want your money-"
"Not in money. I'll pay you in back rubs, foot massages, and-"
"Castle, this is private," she said again. She bit her lip and blinked uncomfortably a few times before adding, "I never showed these to anyone that actually knew me."
"Please?" he asked, injecting as much genuine longing into the plea as he could.
"No," she reiterated. This time, he could tell that there was a finality to the word that he would not be able to get around. But as she moved to turn away from him, he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder.
Kate paused at his touch, and Castle lowered his voice as he said, "Look, I'm sorry I went snooping. That was wrong. And I'm sorry I tried to read your stories, something obviously very personal and private for you."
When she did not reply but rather stood there looking down at the disk, Castle's mind turned with ways to demonstrate his remorse. Within an instant, the perfect solution came to him. Taking a step back from her, Castle turned towards his desk and opened a bottom drawer. Keenly aware of Kate standing just a few feet away, watching him with carefully disinterested eyes, Castle quickly rummaged around until he found what he was looking for: a manila envelope.
The envelope was well worn, the paper edges so thin that holes had developed. But the small stack of neat, stapled papers he pulled from inside were still white and crisp. The neatly composed, typed lines on the first page were double spaced, the font easily readable despite the fading letters.
He held it out to Kate.
"This is the first story I ever submitted for publication," he said. "It was rejected. Repeatedly. But I always held onto it. No one else has read it except my mother. Well, her and the three dozen publishers who turned me down."
Kate's face melted at his words as she automatically reached to take the papers from him. "Really?" she asked, as though he would make up such a thing.
"Really," he assured her. He'd written it long before having editors or agents. It was not as polished as his later works - rough and unfinished in many ways - but he had not touched it since submitting it. It was perfect the way it was, a reflection of that time in his life as he struggled to find his place in the world as a writer.
"I want you to read it," he told her.
"Castle, you don't have to-"
He cut her off, "Don't worry, I'm not asking to see yours. I just want you to read this. From a time in my life when I wasn't a best-selling author. I wrote it when I was a teenager. For fun."
While they were separated in age by several years, Castle could not help but wonder in some alternate universe somewhere, what his college-aged self would have done if he'd met Kate back then. He had seen pictures of her, of course, as a fresh-faced student almost more child than woman. But what was she like back then, before her mother had been taken from her and before her entire world had been turned upside down?
Kate had shared glimpses of that part of herself, but the stories she told always left him hanging on every word, hoping for more. Perhaps that was why he was so interested in reading her stories. He wanted a glimpse of that young, quasi-innocent Kate Beckett. Back when she was first starting off in life, first leaving home. Back when she still cared what people thought about her. Back when she dressed up like her favorite character and wrote fan fiction stories for her favorite science fiction TV show.
"Okay."
Kate nodded at him, accepting his printed story. And then slowly, almost reverently, she handed to him the floppy disk she had previously confiscated.
"You don't have to-" he began, but she shook her head.
"No, it's okay. It's only fair."
Castle stood back as she loaded the disk. She hesitated as she read through the file names, smiling to herself in nostalgia. "Here," she said, opening one of the files. "You can read this one." He waited as she typed in her password, not having the courage to admit that he had already figured it out.
Standing up from his desk, Kate took his story with her. She paused before leaving the room, reaching out one hand to take his. She moved closer to him, her eyes focused intently on his mouth. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she did not resist. While not lacking in passion, it was a conciliatory kiss, the kind reserved for apologies and quiet make-ups. It was full of forgiveness and promise for the future. She broke away before it could kindle more, and as she did, Castle read renewed fire in her eyes.
"You realize you're still in trouble for bailing on the marathon," she informed him archly.
"I guess we'll have to re-start it," he conceded.
"Definitely," she agreed. "Because that story I wrote? You won't understand any of it until you watch every episode of the show."
He just smiled. She was letting him read her Nebula 9 fan fiction. Understanding it would just be a bonus. And twelve episodes of Gabriel Winters' pompous, melodramatic acting was well worth twelve more episodes spent with Kate Beckett.
And she didn't even killed him. His dreams really did come true.
Settling down at his laptop, Castle began reading the story she'd opened for him.
Brainwashed by Creavers by KBecks...