The characters belong to ABC and/or Marlowe and company, the premise came from Sunshiny-Kate, the story came from my head. And the Edison Hotel belongs to someone too, I just don't know who. Probably someone very rich.


Ballrooms, Books, and Bars

"Keep the change." Richard Castle said to the cab driver as he climbed out of the taxi.

He looked up at the marquee of the Hotel Edison, the white letters standing boldly out from the black sign, complemented by the gold embellishments on the corners and edges. Above it were two American flags, lit from below by large spotlights so the gentle waving could be seen from several blocks away. He went through the front door, which was being held open by the doorman. With his black pants and gold trimmed white shirt and hat, the employee matched the sign, and Rick found it to be a bit silly. He said nothing, but nodded his thanks to the man holding the door.

The lobby was decorated with contemporary artistic renditions of New York City. The wall opposite him was made entirely of mirrors, and he used them to make sure he still looked presentable. He felt he did, at least from the other side of the room. He crossed the room, taking note of the many arm chairs and the odd design on the red and orange carpet. As a writer, he often did this. Absorbed details. He could pull from the memories later when describing a location in his books. As he continued walking slowly through the lobby, his gaze fell on what he was searching for. A sign for the fundraiser was set up on a portable folding easel. It pointed him to the ballroom, and he followed the arrow obediently.

He knew he would be entering the ballroom from the back entrance, but he'd come in the front of the hotel for a reason. The ballroom's main entrance from the street would be mobbed with reporters and their cameras. And as much as Gina wanted him to be in the public eye, tonight, that wasn't what he was here for. He had come to give back to the city that had treated him so well. Going to fundraisers usually made him feel cheesy, as he preferred to do most of his donating anonymously. But his publisher and almost ex-wife had insisted.

Rick found the door that would let him to the room full of people. He stopped before opening it and straightened his black bow-tie yet again. Then he pulled the door open and stepped through. The room was abuzz with the activity of over 500 people. The main floor housed sixteen tables filled with ten people each and the balcony-like second floor held at least another 200. Waiters rushed from table to table and back and forth to the kitchen. The patrons they were serving didn't like a glass to be emptied or a plate to linger for a moment once they were done with it. The small stage at one end of the room was hosting a jazz band, and they were playing softly.

"Richard Castle, is that you?" He heard from several feet away.

He turned to see who was calling out to him. It was the deputy mayor. He groaned inwardly and took a moment to mentally switch into his public persona. He flashed his trademark grin and strode over the slightly inebriated leader of the city.

"Deputy! So nice to see you!" Rick never called the man by his name. The men shook hands.

"Likewise, Rick. Hey, when is that next bestseller coming out?"

"Soon, Deputy."

"Good to hear. I'm a big fan, you know. If you keep making our city look good with your books, I'll remember that when I'm mayor. I'll owe you a favor." He said laughing.

"I'll hold you to that, Deputy." Rick said, smiling.

"Well, I have some schmoozing to do. There are plenty of people here I'm going to want on my side when I run for mayor."

"It was nice talking to you, Deputy. Good luck." Rick said just before the other man walked away.

Rick shook his head. This was a fundraiser for a scholarship that helped the children of officers who lost their lives in the line of duty go to college. And the Deputy Mayor only cared about securing funds for his upcoming campaign. Rick didn't want to get caught by anyone else, and so he began to look for an escape. He saw a doorway on the other side of the room and headed for it, making sure he kept his eyes looking downwards so as to keep from making eye-contact with anyone.

He found himself in a small bar, with just seven stools. The only other people in the room were a bartender and woman occupying the seat next to the wall. She had her head hanging low and was holding a glass of wine. Rick hesitated, but then walked up and sat on the seat farthest from her.

"I'll have a beer. Whatever's coldest." When the man behind the bar obliged, Rick took a long, slow sip. "Thank you." He said with a grateful sigh.

Rick nursed his beer as he listened to the muffled sounds of the band drifting into the dimly lit room. He kept glancing at the woman at the opposite end of the bar. She had short brown hair, and the dress she was wearing looked stunning, even though she was sitting and he couldn't fully take it in. He couldn't see her face, because she never looked up from her glass. Eventually, his curiosity got the best of him.

"So, what or who are you avoiding?" He asked her.

When she didn't answer after a few moments, he got up and moved down to the stool right next to her. He heard her gasp slightly, and wondered if he'd been too abrupt in his actions. He was about to move back when she spoke.

"Ever heard of personal space?"

"Yes. But I'm not good with following rules." He said, trying to make her laugh. It didn't work. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but you've barely touched that one."

"The drinks are free." She replied sharply.

"Valid point." He said. He felt intrigued, and he pushed again. "So, why are you in here?"

"Well, I certainly am not in here waiting on some guy to bother me."

"Who's bothering you? The bartender? That's funny. I haven't heard him say one word since I came in." Rick was still trying to get her to laugh, or at least look at him. She still did neither.

"Look, I came here with my dad. He's speaking tonight and he asked me to accompany him. I did, then I came in here to avoid people until he is ready to leave." She put an emphasis on the word avoid, hoping he would get the point. The last thing she wanted was to deal with some guy trying to take her home.

"And how's that working out for you?" Rick asked.

Finally, he got half of what he wanted. She looked up at him, his persistence paying off. When their eyes connected, the world stopped. Her dark green-brown eyes swallowed up his gaze. She was younger than he'd thought, he now guessed her to be in her early 20's, but she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He tried to speak, but found his mouth was dry because it was hanging open. He closed it for a moment, and when he knew his voice would work again, he introduced himself.

"My name is Richard Castle." He slowly stuck his right hand out to her as he spoke.

She didn't respond. She couldn't. She'd become lost in the blue eyes staring at her. When she had seen him close his mouth, it made her realize she needed to do the same. Instinct took over and she placed her hand in his. The sensation set her on fire, from her head to her toes. His skin was smooth, his grip gentle but firm.

"I'm Kate Beckett." She didn't how she managed to say it, but the words had somehow found their way from her throat.

"It's very nice to meet you Kate Beckett."

"Likewise, Mr. Castle."

"Please, call me Rick." He reluctantly let go of her perfect hand, knowing he'd held on for longer than was socially acceptable.

Both immediately missed the contact, and they looked down at their drinks to gather themselves from the intense moment they had shared.

"So, who is your dad?" Rick asked, breaking the silence.

"Jim Beckett. He has lots of friends that used to be on the police force."

"Ah. Well, it's a good thing your mother isn't here with him too. This party couldn't handle that much beauty." Rick immediately regretted the attempted compliment, because Kate got a pained look on her face.

"My mother died. A couple of years ago. She was murdered." Kate answered after a few minutes.

"I'm so sorry." Rick wanted to slap himself for opening up what was obviously still a raw wound. "I don't always think before I speak."

"It's okay. You couldn't have known." She looked back up at him. "No one cares about dead lawyers. No one raises money for a scholarship for future generations of lawyers. It's all about the people on the front lines. People don't pay attention to those behind the scenes, the ones who actually fight for justice."

Kate stopped herself as her tone began to grow louder. She normally didn't talk about her mother's case to anyone, and as easy as Rick seemed to be to talk to, she definitely wasn't going to open up to a stranger. In fact, she hated talking about her mother at all, because the anger and the fear and the sadness were all still so fresh. She and her father had both become addicts since the murder, him to alcohol and her to the case. She looked back at her wine glass. She was on the verge of tears, and became desperate to change the subject.

"Um, what do you do, Rick?" She forced her words to be calm, but struggled to do so.

He could tell that she was done talking about her mother, and was happy to go along with the new topic.

"I am a writer. Mystery novels."

"Really?"

"Yep." He replied. "You should try one out. Maybe you'd like it."

"I just might do that. I enjoy a good book."

They fell into an awkward silence, neither able to forget the near rant Kate had gone on minutes before. He finished his beer and stood up.

"Kate Beckett, I am very glad I got to meet you." He hesitated, but then decided to continue. "I truly hope that someday, someone will help you start that scholarship. The one that would honor your mother." He smiled, took hold of her fingers and placed a chaste kiss on the top of her hand. "But alas, I must now go and pose for pictures, so that my publicity hungry publisher will be satisfied." He smiled, placed her hand back on the bar, and bowed slightly before turning and leaving the room.


The next day Kate stopped by a bookstore on the way home from the precinct. She'd managed to find all six books currently released by Richard Castle and she had bought them all. As she curled up on the couch with one, she found herself free from the world and it's harsh realities. Although something in the back of her mind told her the escape would only be temporary, she let the welcome feeling of peace wash over her. And that peace overtook her anytime she opened the pages penned by the blue-eyed man she'd met in a hotel bar.