Back From The Dead
Disclaimers: Blah blah don't own blah blah not mine yeah whatever
Summary: Post-Ep for 'Undead Again.' Yeah, today was pretty great, but tomorrow is going to be awesome
He was the mindless hunter, tracking his prey.
He could hear her, making noises in the kitchen, blissfully unaware as he crept in, light on his toes. He inched ever closer. Soon, in just moments, she would turn, know that her fate was sealed. Her scream would be his victory cry. He brought his arms up, his hands extended out towards her neck. Only feet away now, he watched as she placed the wine bottle on the counter, turned towards him, no chance left, the moment his...
"Oh, hello, Richard," his mother said, completely without a care.
Rick Castle dropped his arms in defeat. His little zombie ruse had worked quite well against Alexis, but Martha, apparently, was borne of sterner stuff. Or she had a glass of wine and just didn't care.
"Oh, don't look so heartbroken," she said, seeing the pout on his face. "Your makeup and costume are quite good. But I heard you with Alexis a moment ago."
The mention of Alexis perked him up. "She's staying in town. Decided to go to Columbia."
"Oh, fantastic, dear. I must say that I wasn't quite ready to see her leave. Wine?"
"I don't think it will go with the lipstick."
"Yes, well, you are probably right. Which forces one to ask, why are you dressed like a zombie, other than to try to scare your relatives? I take it that the case is over?"
"Solved and solved. The costume was a present and part of a ruse to catch the real killer, I'll have you know."
"Not the souvenir I would expect you have taken away from that job, but c'est la vie. How did the goodbyes go?"
"Um," he said, sitting on a bar stool, "there were no goodbyes."
"You just left?"
"No. No ... I think I'll be staying for awhile."
Martha stopped, sat down next to him. "Am I safe in assuming, then, that the lovely Detective Beckett said something to you? Professed her undying love, or whatever it is you've been hoping for?"
"Ah, no, not exactly. She just hinted that..."
"Hinted?" Martha asked, interrupting.
"Insinuated?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Richard, my dear boy, I seem to remember once, well, quite a lot actually, that you would date. You remember what that is?"
"Yes, Mother. Are you telling me I should date?"
"I am saying that most people, when they meet someone they like, they flirt, they talk. The boy asks the girl out. They share a meal. They do ... other things. They don't talk around each other for years at a time, only to declare their love for each other when one of them is dying. Oh, it's all terribly romantic, this little game you have going on, but wouldn't it be far easier to just ask the poor woman out to dinner? Don't you think it would be far easier for her to accept a dinner invitation than to admit that she, in fact, reciprocates your undying love?"
Castle went to speak, to rebut his mother. He opened his mouth, thought of nothing to say, and closed his mouth. "Actually, Mother, that's not a half bad idea."
"Of course it's not, dear. Shakespeare didn't have Beatrice and Benedict get together in the first act, after all. Granted, you and Kate are on about the 45th act by now, but you know what I mean."
"Next case, I'll ... I'll just ask her out."
"Excellent. Though lose the silly costume first," Martha said. With that, she patted him on the knee and headed upstairs. Castle watched her leave, feeling like his buoyant self for the first time in a month. He had a plan, he had his daughter staying in the city, he had a terrific zombie costume.
Look out, Kate Beckett, he thought to himself. Our next case is going to be awesome.