...
...
I'm a new man.
I wear a new cologne.
You wouldn't know me if your eyes were closed.
I know what you'll say.
'This won't last longer than the rest of the day'.
But you're wrong this time.
You're wrong.
-John Mayer, "New Deep"
Road to Always: Chapter 1
Rick can't believe what he's hearing. Has she just admitted, to a suspect no less, that she has been lying to him for almost a year? She remembers. She's always remembered.
Mother urged me to tell her. I'm glad I never had the time; I would have been humiliated. She doesn't love me. She was saving us both by not telling me - or she thought she was. I can't let it break me, that's not who I am. I make a difference here. I'll keep helping, or else I'm just back to being just a writer, back to being a purposeless soul.
XxX
"Oh Richard really, a bomb memorial? C'mon honey, isn't this rather morbid?" Martha remarked. She doesn't know why her son feels the need to revisit such a painful memory. Not just the deaths from this senseless act, but his feelings for Kate that it dredges up.
"That's how I'm feeling."
"She isn't dead."
"She might as well be. I really thought we could have a future together. You know, I was willing to wait. Come to find out it's all just a big joke. She knew. This whole time she remembered, and she didn't say anything... because she was embarrassed. She doesn't feel the same way. I'm such a fool." Rick said, sounding defeated.
They both took a minute to look at the memorial. Pictures of loved ones lost, grieving friends and family. Rick was grieving too.
Martha nudged her son. "Well, come on, let's go home - break out some of the good stuff, okay?" She smiled, trying to add levity to a moment full of despair.
"I'd love to, but I've gotta be getting back."
"Back? Why on earth would you be going back? Knowing how she feels, knowing that she lied to you..." Martha said in disbelief.
"This isn't about her, this is... this is about them." he gestures at the memorial "It's about doing something real. Something that matters. I'm not willing to let that go."
"Richard, love is not a switch, you can't just turn it off. You can't work side-by-side with her and not feel anything."
He smiled grimly, took his mother by the arm, and said with an air of confidence far greater than he felt, "Watch me."
XxX
How much am I lying to myself? How far can I push myself? It isn't about the books anymore. That was the truth. It isn't about her anymore - how much am I lying to myself? I don't know. I need a break. We figured out who the bomber was, who his accomplice was. Now I should take some time for me. What good is my money if I don't splurge on myself?
Well, how about a trip. What place is it better to lick your wounds in than Las Vegas? It's as close as he can get to actually being out on the street - in the gutter. Kicked to the curb by the one person... No, he can't think of her. This is about him. He'll get far away from New York. He needs some debauchery - why shouldn't he let loose? Nobody to be squeaky clean for anymore.
Tickets bought. Good thing he has an app for that. He'll take the Ferrari. It's been gathering dust since she drove it. He's sure the airport valet will take good care of it. Who's he kidding? He doesn't care either way. He just wants to feel the wind on his face.
XxX
Ugh, it's Tuesday. He squints as his hands fumble around on the side table for his sunglasses. His tailored leather coat is ruined. It's not exactly the best nightwear. He didn't bring anything but his cell phone and his Centurian Card. It's all he needed. Time to get back home. If he didn't have Alexis there, he'd probably stay a couple of weeks. But she'll be leaving the nest soon enough, and at least he has something to keep him tethered there. He loves New York. He really does. However, right now the city seems much too small, confined, crowded - with people he'd like to keep at arm's length. New York's finest sure knows how to break a guy.
First class, baby. The only way to fly. He can stretch out his legs, and there's usually no crying baby kicking the back of his seat. The air hostesses aren't too bad a view either. Especially that one - blonde, busty - the kind he used to go for before - just before - and maybe now... again.
"Freshen your drink, Mr. Castle?"
When she leans down and shows him her ample cleavage, he can read her name tag. Jacinda. It definitely fits her.
"Dunno, Jacinda." He puts on the Castle charm he's gotten almost rusty with. "How experienced are you at refreshing things?" She giggled back at him and picked up his glass.
"Scotch, two fingers, right? Glenlivet?"
"You tell me. And call me Rick.", he smirked.
"Whatever you ask for, Rick. I can get it for you."
He leered as she walked away. This was the life. This was his life. Maybe he missed it, he still wasn't sure. He was determined to quash the feeling that he was cheating. Not likely to happen anytime soon, but he could still try. So, this was to be his life... now.
This was his crutch, his go-to mask. How better to show you don't give a crap than be a ne'er do well playboy. He hardly ever makes page six anymore, but that's not why he's doing it this time. This time, he's doing it to forget himself. Forget who he is underneath the facade.
He asks for her number but she gives him one better. He can give her a lift after they've landed. Castle's pretty sure he can talk her into the penthouse suite at the Gramercy Park, and probably out of her uniform. That way he doesn't have to give her his address, and he can cut and run when it's convenient.
He pulls up the hotel's website and books the 'Park One' suite. "Hey, Jacinda." He calls to her and waves her over. "You mind if we make a stop once we get back to the city? I have a suite at the Gramercy." The look in her eyes could only be described as eager.
"That sounds nice. I've never seen inside one of their suites." She winks at him and returns to her station. She continues to gather drinks for the First Class passengers. But every time she turns back towards the cabin, she gives him a flirty look.
Oh yeah, this'll be fun. 'No... NO!' he hears the voice in his head screaming. 'Rick, you can't do this, you're still waiting.' He isn't listening to that voice today. And he's definitely not waiting.
XxX
Castle lets her walk ahead of him so he can see her 'assets'. She changed into street clothes before they left the airport - lord knows why, but he's not complaining. Could that little black skirt be any tighter? When she stops outside the door to his room, he puts his hands on either side of her and angrily starts to kiss her.
Rick pushes the key card into the door lock, and they fall into the room. He backs her against the wall as they grab at each other. She's pushing his jacket off his shoulders, and he's grabbing her hips, pulling her into him. Anything, so he doesn't picture his brown-haired apparition. He can't keep comparing; partly because he shouldn't be, partly because it's impossible. When it comes to her, there is no comparison. There's only her, and it can't be about her tonight - or let's face it, any other night. Jacinda, he's with Jacinda right now. She has to be enough, but deep down, he knows she's not.
His conscience keeps prodding at him, but he refuses to let it stop him. He has to drown it out. He pulls at the (mostly enhanced) blonde's shirt as she slowly unbuttons his. Fake is good. Fake is what he needs. The voice in his head is almost screaming now, 'Keep telling yourself that Rick, you just might end up believing it'.
"No, I won't." He says out loud.
"Huh?" Jacinda breathes out.
"I won't. I can't." He repeats.
Before Jacinda has enough time to wonder if he needs some sort of medication, his phone goes off.
He couldn't delete her from his contacts, but he could manage some retaliation. He smirks a little at the ringtone he set on Friday.
'I cannot take it. You're bothering me. What's your problem. Just get lost.'
"Like - Oh Em Gee. Who's that?" Jacinda asks, evidently disgusted with the discordant noise spewing out of his cell.
He doesn't understand the immediate urge to tell her off. Who's that? How can she ask? The nerve of this woman. He sighs internally, but answers anyway. "SOiL. I'm guessing you haven't heard of them." Beckett would know. Somehow, she always knew everything.
"Are they new or something?"
"No, not new. You were probably in middle school when that song was released." He rolled his eyes - again, internally. He's pretty sure she never got to college.
The phone was still ringing; as much as he'd love to let it go to voicemail, he felt compelled to answer.
"Castle" He said curtly.
"We've got a fresh one." Her voice sounded like silk. He hates that it still does.
He bites off a response. "Address?"
"What? No retort?" He can almost hear the smirk.
He stays silent. Right now, he doesn't trust his words. But his words are all he has. What has she done to him?
"Umm. Okay, write it down." She says, not having the time to dwell on the lack of response.
He grabbed the hotel notepad from the desk near the entryway, and jotted down the information. "Got it. I'll be there."
Castle straightened out the buttons on his shirt and put his hands on Jacinda's upper arms. "I've gotta take care of something. I wish we could stick around for a bit, but this is important. Still need that ride home?"
"Sure. I could drop you off?"
"What do you mean?"
"You have to get somewhere, right? Drive us to wherever you have to be, and then I'll drive myself home. You can pick up the car later."
She's crazy. She has to be crazy. Trust her with his Ferrari? Trust. Look where that's gotten him before. Nevermind that it'll end up with this blonde bimbo at the crime scene. In front of Kate - no, Beckett. That's not his goal. He'd never be that vindictive. He keeps trying to convince himself he's better than that.
"Sure. Yeah. That's a good idea." He said nonchalantly. "Let's head out."
'It's a terrible idea' The much ignored voice shouts again. He's going to ignore it... again.
"Cool. Let's go." Jacinda said with a toothy-smile.
His eyes widened - she'd have caught that. She'd have noticed. Jacinda does not. 'Cool. Shoot me now.' The voice laments.
He called the valet from the room, and looks around - opportunity lost, and it's her fault again. Maybe his mother was right. It seems like there's no part of his life she hasn't invaded. That he hasn't allowed her to invade. Funny that Beckett thought it was Castle invading her life from the start. Even here they were equals; partners. It was usually a two-way street, but somehow he got turned around.
Castle led Jacinda to the elevators and pressed the button for the lobby.
"Mr. Castle. Your keys." The eager young man called to him as they made their way through the hotel's front door. He pressed fifty bucks into the guy's hand and kept walking.
"I'm leaving the top down, hope your hair can take it." He had to make a snarky comment to her, his defense mechanism never worked the way he wanted it to. They pulled away from the curb, tires squealing against the concrete surface, and he left whatever semblance of peace he was working towards - not that it had worked at all - behind him.
A/N: Okay, it's tough so far, we know that. Trust us, it's going to get much better. Next chapter to come after we learn more about the case -and stuff in general- from "The Limey".
Docnerd89 shouts, "SLIMEY"
Did I mention how much I love teaming up with Docnerd89 on this story? She's awesome. She even knows how to use proper tenses.
Docnerd89 says, "Ditto"
So there's the beginning. More to come. Please enjoy!
Docnerd89 says, "P.S. We also want "Jacinda" to crash and burn"
I believe our thoughts were to kill her with a bazooka, stomp on her remains, feed her to sharks, then put anything left over in a rocket to the sun.
Docnerd89: "And we feel sorry for the sun."
Yup - what she said. At least you know we're not writing her in 'cause we like her.