First things first, I'm back. I know it's been a year, but here goes nothing all over again. Diving into the AU world of the Castle fanfic fandom, and I hope you all enjoy it.
Few people to thank, firstly Pau (PauliPorcupine) for her incessant (yet wonderful) nagging for me to write and the most wonderful support and confidence in me that I don't even have in myself.
Also, Morgan (pinktheatre) for tiredly reading this over for me yesterday evening when I truly needed an opinion other than my own on it, and calling bullshit on me when I need it too, I swear she might know me better than I know myself sometimes.
And of course the amazingly talented Logan (aplacetomakeyourstand) who is always inspiring me to improve my writing ability, and is always joining in to get me motivated, I always need it. Love you ladies, you are the world to me!
Now on to the story, and as always, no owning of Castle here for me, though I wish.
And of course all of your reviews are wonderfully appreciated and graciously accepted!
Chapter 1: Didn't Think We Were on a Last Name Basis
Kate pushed through the door to the small bar, an unfamiliar location, and it was just what she needed right now. Normally she would grab a drink with the boys after a rough week on a tough case, but tonight she wanted nothing more than to be alone, no one around who knew who she was, just alcohol and the company of herself.
It was a small, dimly lit place, but it seemed welcoming as she made her way through the streets of New York City in the still chilly weather of March. She wanted a bar stool and a stiff drink, and it looked as though this would be just the place to find both of those. The place was quiet, a few people here and there, and some soft classic rock filled the air as it played over the radio. It seemed like this place was made for her right now, looking like it was exactly what she needed.
"Rum and coke, please," she said grabbing one of the bar stools directly in front of the bartender and sitting down heavily in it, dropping her purse to the ground beside her.
"Coming right up," the bartender answered as he pulled out a glass and began to make her drink.
"Actually, can you make it a double?" She asked.
"Of course," he said with a nod. "I've never seen you around here before," he observed as he added another full shot of rum to the cup already full of ice.
"That's the point," Kate answered shortly, immediately feeling bad after doing so, it wasn't his fault that it had been a long week with an extremely difficult case. "Sorry, long week," she apologized.
"It happens, don't worry about it," he answered as he placed the glass full of dark liquid in front of her. "I'll start you a tab," he said before walking away to tend to the few other customers in the bar. She grabbed the drink immediately, taking a big gulp of it, the rum burning her throat slightly as she felt the cold liquid slide down it. She wasn't one to drown her sorrows in alcohol, she never had been. After she watched her father fall victim to the bottle, she couldn't bring herself to dot it, but it had been one of those weeks, and right now she just needed to take the edge off, a little something to make her forget about the hell of the past few days that she had endured.
He noticed it when she walked through the front door, a blast of cold rushing into the small bar, she lit up the room, even with the tired look that her stature held, written all across her face. Her long, dark, curly hair flowed behind her as she walked with purpose toward the bar. He watched her survey it, taking in the sights and sounds that filled it. It confirmed his guess that she had never been to the place before. He definitely would have recognized her, not that he had spent much time at the Old Haunt lately, but she didn't look the type to regulate the old, well known, writers bar. He almost wanted to close his laptop and walk right over to her, offer to buy her a drink and invite her back to the booth he had made himself comfortable in, but he decided to wait, give it a little time, let her settle in, as he overheard Jimmy mention that she must be new around here. Give her a chance to get comfortable in the new surroundings, have a drink or two, and then swoop in as the successful and well versed author and sweep her off her feet.
Take her back to his loft, impress her to no end and finish it off with a night full of lust that she'd never forget. Then he'd keep her around for a couple weeks, while things were new and exciting, full of passion, and then tell her some story about how he just couldn't commit due to his busy schedule and it wasn't fair to her. Send her on her way and hope that they never ran into each other like this ever again.
Sometimes he hated it, debated actually maybe giving something more a try, but the woman were all the same. Starstruck and wanting to sleep with him because of his name, the success, fame and money associated with it. But for now, he would more than take it. A divorce already under his belt, he was okay with the flings for a while, it didn't bother him not to be in a serious relationship, life was generally easier without one. When the right woman eventually came around, he'd settle down, but not a moment sooner.
He decided he could at least maybe try to get some work down before he went over to talk to her, that was why he was here after all. He wrote his first few novels right in this bar, and after killing off his current main character, he needed all the inspiration he could get. His new manuscript was due to Black Pawn a week ago, and they weren't too on his case about it yet, but he knew it wouldn't be much longer until the incessant calls and knocks on the door from his ex-wife began, and he could really do without those.
The little blinking cursor stared back at him on the small screen, almost threatening him to type something. He debated it, though he would probably do what he had done all night, write a couple sentences, hate them and delete it all. It seemed to be this never ending vicious circle, and it haunted him. He just needed some new dose of inspiration, something that struck him like Derek Storm used to, and he could run with it. People were expecting another best selling series out of him, it couldn't be anything ordinary.
He sighed, running his hands over his face, placing them right back to the position in which they had sat for the majority of the evening, ghosting over top of his keyboard, just waiting to be put to use.
There wasn't much point to it anymore, between the writers block he'd been suffering from for weeks now, and the gorgeous brunette at the bar that kept stealing his attention away, there was no chance in him getting anything quality written now.
"My names Rick," he said, grabbing the bar stool next to her and extending a hand out to her.
"Kate," she replied reaching out to shake his hand and take a look at him. That was when it hit her. His name wasn't Rick, it was Richard Castle, best selling author and New York known player, frequenting page 6 with a new blonde on his arm every few weeks or so.
"So what brings you to the Old Haunt, Kate?" He asked gently swirling his scotch in its glass turning on the stool so he could face her. She wasn't his normal type, or blonde, a better way to put it, but she certainly was gorgeous.
"The draw of a drink and some alone time," she replied, following her statement up with a long sip of her rum and coke.
"Hope I'm not ruining that alone time too much, I just can't help the draw of a beautiful woman sitting alone at the bar."
"Even though I'm not blonde?" She quipped back at him with a light laugh.
"I take that to mean you recognize me?" He asked taking a long sip of his own drink at this point.
"Are there many people who don't?" She questioned.
"You'd be surprised," he replied. "Authors are not nearly as noticed as every other type of celebrity around these parts."
"I think page 6 is pretty big recognition, but whatever you say," she quipped, finishing her drink and making sure that he noticed her eye roll.
"So the Kate, clearly you know me, does that mean I get to know some more about you?" He asked. "Another round please Jimmy," he hollered at the man behind the bar.
"There's not much to know," she replied. "But apparently I'm getting another drink,"
"Did you not want one," he asked immediately, unsure of the action he just took. This Kate girl was certainly not his type, once girls recognized him he usually had them eating out of the palm of his hand and begging him to make a move, but Kate, she challenged him, and he couldn't see her eating out of the palm of his hand no matter how he played his cards tonight. It was something new, something different, and he was kind of thrilled about it.
"No, it's fine, I could use another," she said with a small smile.
"And the company's not so bad, is it?" He asked, a hopefully grin plastered across his face.
"I've had worse," she replied, grabbing the new drink Jimmy had just placed in front of her and taking a sip.
"Very glad I'm not the worst," he said joining her in taking a sip of his drink. "So, what do you do Kate?" He asked.
"I'm a cop," she said blatantly, just waiting for his reaction. He choked a bit on his drink, that was the normal response, and she just basked in it each and every time.
"Like shoot people, run around chasing the criminals of New York City, cop?" He asked, trying to gain back his calm and cool composure.
"Well, a homicide detective, actually. But it does involve shooting and running down murderers occasionally."
"That is the coolest thing I've ever heard," he exclaimed, an excited look lighting up his face. He was a mystery novelist, he wrote books about these sorts of things, but actually meeting a gorgeous homicide detective, well he didn't know those really existed.
"Not usually the reaction I get, but I'll take it," she laughed. "You're a mystery writer, it makes sense."
"So what is a homicide detective doing on the lower east side of manhattan at a writers bar?"
"Didn't want to drink at the normal spot with all the cops. This was the next thing I came across, so I figured why not," she explained. She had walked in the opposite direction of her apartment, she didn't want to go home and dwell on the case, so she figured heading the complete opposite way was the way to go.
"We'll, Kate, I'm rather glad you decided to wander on in."
"Of course you are," she replied with a laugh. "I'm the only woman in this bar."
"That may be true," Castle laughed.
"So what is a best selling author doing in a bar on the lower east side? I wouldn't expect this to be your usual scene."
"I actually used to write here all the time, back when I was just starting out, I loved it. I haven't been having the easiest time writing lately, kind of in a rut, so I figured coming back might give me some inspiration." Castle shared. He didn't tell just anyone that he was in a writing rut, he was a bestselling author, he wasn't supposed to get in ruts, but he felt he could be honest with Kate, she was a cop after all.
"Did it work?" Kate asked, finishing off her second drink.
"It may have, but when gorgeous women walk into this place all by themselves I tend to get distracted." Kate blushed this time as Castle finished off his drink. It might be the alcohol starting to course through her veins, or the very handsome writer that she was sitting next to, but her mood had definitely brightened since she walked into the bar.
"Can I get you another, Kate? Or maybe you want to get out of here? I just picked up this great bottle of wine the other day, and I can't justify drinking it alone."
"I wouldn't mind another," she replied. "But if you think I'll be joining you for a bottle of wine tonight, Rick, you better think again."
"It was worth a try," he chuckled, signaling to Jimmy to grab them another round. "I couldn't bear the fact of sitting next to you all evening and not try."
"Well, I'll take it as a compliment," she said, excusing herself to the washroom after Jimmy brought them their next round.
Once she returned they continued with the easy conversation through another two, maybe it was three, she started to lose track, drinks. Moving over to the booth Castle occupied before hand to be more comfortable. The air between them was simple, an occasional sexually driven comment here and there from the two of them, the sparks between them flew and cracked at every chance. His hand had landed on her thigh at some point, and surprisingly enough she didn't mind. He had taken a chance, hoping that she didn't pull out a gun and shoot him for it.
But as it neared 1am Kate began to feel the stress of the long day take a toll on her exhausted body.
"I'm not meaning to yawn, I'm sorry," she squeaked out in between two yawns, she really did feel bad.
"I'm sorry that I'm keeping you up," he laughed, his fingers continuing to trace slow patterns on her thigh like they had been doing for quite some time.
"I actually had a really good night, Rick." She said with a smile.
"Me too, Kate. Still not willing to take me up on that bottle of wine?" He asked with a sly grin across his face, while she laughed.
"Not a chance," she replied.
"Well, maybe we can do this again sometime at least, get coffee or something during the daylight so you aren't falling asleep on me?"
Kate debated it, she had a really good night talking with him, but this was Richard Castle, she knew his type, and she certainly wasn't it. Did she really want to get involved with the celebrity playboy author? It probably wasn't a good idea, but she hadn't had an easy night of drinking and laughing with a guy in a long time. What could it hurt passing along her number, it's not like she ever had to answer him if she came to her senses about this all tomorrow morning?
"I don't think that would be completely horrible," she laughed slightly. She reached for the pen that was sitting next to him and the napkin beside it, scrawling her name and number down on them.
"I'll give you a call, we can set something up," he told her with a smile. She started to get up out of the booth, grab her jacket and purse. "At least let me walk you out," he added.
"You do remember what I do for a living, right?" she laughed.
"How could I forget?" He joined her as their laughter filled the bar, the only two left in the dim lighting that was cast throughout the small bar. "But it's the gentlemen thing to do," he added.
"Richard Castle, the gentlemen. I don't think anyone that reads the magazines would believe me if I ever told them that."
"I like to think I'm more than what's on page 6, sometimes." He confessed.
"Well, I would definitely have to agree after tonight," she told him.
"I had a really great night, Kate." He said as he held open the door of the bar for her and they stepped out together into the chilly air. "I'm glad we agreed to do it again."
He flagged down a cab for her on the street, grabbing on to the door handle to open it for her.
"I am too, Castle." She replied.
"Castle?" He asked. "I didn't think we were on a last name basis," he laughed. "Especially considering I don't know what yours is."
"It seemed fitting for you." She laughed. "But you don't get to know mine."
She watched him reach for her waist, pulling her into him just slightly, as the space between them barely existed at that point. He placed his lips just lightly against her own, almost as if they weren't there at all, before he was already pulling away from her.
"Thanks again, Kate. Get home safe." He said pulling the door to the cab open fully and placing his hand against the small of her back to help her in.
"See you later, Rick. You get home safe too." She said with a smile as he closed the door to the cab and stepped back as the cabby pulled away from the curb.
She waved as she drove out of sight of the Old Haunt, watching him turn and head back into the bar after giving her a slight wave and watching her drive away.
She gave the cabby the address before sitting back and relaxing into the seat. Thinking back on the evening, she went to drink away the pain of a hard week and case away, and she ends the night kissing a bestselling author as he puts her into a cab and sends her home, after promising that he's going to call her so they can go out. It all seems surreal. She wonders if it's all a dream that she'll wake up to tomorrow, all made up by her mind and her love of his books. She pinches herself, surely enough she's awake, still in the cab on her way home. She tries to quiet her mind, watch the lights of New York City go by out the window as the cab heads towards her apartment in Little Italy, but it's no use. Her thoughts run a mile a minute after the evenings events, it's all so unlike her. She doesn't kiss strangers outside of bars, drink with guys that she meets there, give out her number to men that promise coffee dates, none of it. But it's all been done, there's nothing she can do about it now, except maybe decide to answer when he calls and go out for coffee with him, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Though she's sure that could be the alcohol talking.
The cab pulls up to her apartment, she pays the fee and climbs out, the tiniest bit unsteady on her heeled boots, she managed to make her way to the door, and up to her apartment. She silently wished her brain to be quiet, she just wanted to get a few hours of much needed sleep, she could worry about what she had just gotten herself into in the morning, right now it could wait until then.