"No respect for the English Language. None whatsoever."
Kate Beckett had come to expect a lot of things from a public bathroom. It came with the territory of being a detective. She had seen a lot of things in her time.
A guy correcting the English of the bathroom graffiti, on the other hand, was completely new and unfamiliar. Plus, he was doing so with a red marker.
"This is murder! They're killing the language!" he ranted, oblivious to the fact that he had an audience. "It's a surprise that it has managed to survive this long if people mangle it like this."
Kate was amused. She had never seen anyone get so worked up over grammar before. "You should put that marker away and leave the bathroom. Other people need to use the bathroom too you know. And I'm pretty sure it's going to be more important than editing bathroom graffiti."
He practically jumped a foot in the air and whirled around, his mouth hanging open. Kate had to smother a fangirl squee as she recognised her favourite author, Richard Castle. "Um, this is the men's room," he said, apparently unable to find anything else to say.
"I know that. But the line to the woman's room is half a mile long and there's no way I'll be able to wait that long. So if you'll excuse me-"
"Sorry," he said and ran out of the bathroom.
Way to blow it Beckett. You get the chance of a lifetime, and you scare off your favourite author. Is it any wonder you can never get a date?
She was still cursing herself as she washed her hands. She would never get another opportunity like this. But considering how everything else in her personal life went, it wasn't much of a surprise that the meeting turned out the way it did.
So she was surprised to see Richard Castle waiting outside the bathroom as she stepped outside.
"Listen," he said. "I normally don't do stuff like that. It's just that I'm editing my new book - I'm a writer - so I just have this urge to edit everything that I read. Normally I can resist it, but the English on the graffiti was just so bad - it rankled me."
Kate couldn't help but laugh. Richard Castle, playboy extraordinaire, actually stayed back just to explain himself to a woman he met in the men's room! Use this chance dammit! she told herself. "Editing a book? Is it the next Derek Storm novel?"
His eyes lit up. "Are you a fan?"
She nodded. "Very much so. I'm Kate Beckett." She held out her hand.
He took it and they briefly shook hands. "Richard Castle, but I think you already knew that."
Kate couldn't help the next words which tumbled out of her mouth. "Mr Castle, would you mind answering some questions-"
He stiffened almost immediately. "Are you a reporter?" he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
She groaned internally, This is why you can't get a date! she told herself. She couldn't say one sentence without putting people on guard. "No, I'm a homicide detective." And she was sure that would be it. For some reason, men were always warier around her when they knew that she was a detective.
But Richard Castle had a completely different reaction. "Really?" he asked, gasping in wonder. He was almost bouncing with excitement just like a little boy. "That's so cool! I would love to answer any questions you have if you can let me pick your brain about detective work. And please, call me Rick."
Well, maybe she could get a date. At least with the right person. "Then you should call me Kate," she said.
She couldn't help but smile. This was the beginning of something special, she was sure of it.
