So I was cleaning out all of the folders on my computer and I found this. Apparently, I wrote it in October (so it takes place around then) and never got around to publishing it. But, taking recent events into consideration, I just had to share this. God, I miss Montgomery already.
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. I'm too weak to kill Montgomery.
All that could be heard from their booth was booming laughter. Well, that and the clinks of glass after glass hitting the table. He had to say, Montgomery had some of the funniest cop stories he'd heard to date. Sure, he'd heard some weird ones, some he wouldn't have even believed possible if an actual cop hadn't told him about it. But these, these were hilarious. Roy was the most experienced cop that had ever been friendly enough to regale him with tales of the good old days, so he guessed it had something to do with that. There was something to be said for experience.
"And that is how I found myself in a hospital bed, with a crippling ache in my ass from a bullet, staring up at my partner dressed in a complete clown costume. Not to mention the girl's phone number scrawled on my hand." Roy told him through bouts of chuckling. Yes, there was definitely something to be said for experience.
"Did you call her?" Polishing off the beers he raised his hand, signaling the bartender that they were in need of another round.
"Of course I did, I always call, Castle. And now I'm married to her." Montgomery's sly smile was no match for his large grin as the two once again broke out laughing.
"Seriously?" He got out in between his roaring laughter, "That's how you met your wife?"
"And I wouldn't change a minute of it." As the bartender brought them both yet another beer they raised the bottles, the sound of glasses clinking together filling the air around them. He looked around the bar, not many people were left. It was late, he didn't know the exact time but he could tell by the amount of customers in the dim bar that it wasn't a normal drinking hour. Thankfully, it was a Saturday, which meant no precinct tomorrow.
Normally, this wouldn't be cause for celebration since no precinct meant no murder, no puzzle to solve and most importantly, no Beckett. But he had a feeling that with a killer hangover tomorrow he wouldn't feel like leaving his bedroom, much less chasing down suspects and coming up a theory they might actually be able to use.
It had been a long day. Hell, it had been a long week. A serial killer that had been terrorizing New York city on and off for twenty years was finally put behind bars by the team he'd come to think of as family. Sure, it had drained all of them beyond belief. But with a case that big now closed, how could you not celebrate afterwards? And so he'd pestered, bribed and cajoled the entire team for hours until they'd finally agreed to go get some drinks. The drinks had been flowing, and after a few glasses the team loosened up considerably. War stories were exchanged, jokes and teasing abundant in the small group.
Eventually most of them had left, giving some excuse or another as to why they had to cut the evening short. Early in the night Ryan had said something about getting home because he'd promised Jenny that he'd cook a late dinner for her, Esposito and Lanie giving muffled excuses not long after and suspiciously getting in the same cab. Beckett had stayed longer, which to be honest, he hadn't expected. He hadn't even expected her to come. But, to his delight, she had. And she'd stayed longer than most of her team. Eventually she'd told the two men that all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hibernate until next month, leaving shortly after. Montgomery had given her a look that told her he knew exactly how much sleep she'd been getting for the past few days and told her to get to bed.
Now, they were the only ones left of the mismatched gang and were still going strong. Though the evening had been full of surprises the biggest one was probably that out of the entire team, Roy had stayed the longest. The stern, by-the-book captain who handed out little snippets of wisdom every so often was letting loose. Maybe there was more to Montgomery than he let on.
"You know, Roy," he said between swigs, "I didn't really peg you for a late night at the bar kind of guy."
"Beckett's not the only one with layers, my boy." The captain gave a wink and threw back the last of the beer. He did the same, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
"If I'd known this earlier I'd have totally invited you out for drinks earlier." He laughed and signaled for the bartender to bring them another round. "You know, you may have layers like her, but Beckett never tells me her war stories. At least not the funny ones."
"Probably because her funny ones are not only hilarious, but embarrassing."
"Seriously, Miss Rules has embarrassing moments? I don't believe it." He was intrigued now, Montgomery had some juicy Beckett-centric stories, stories that were not only highly amusing, but embarrassing? Oh, this could be fun.
"Oh yeah, Castle." Montgomery pointed his finger at him and smirked. "You'd be surprised at what she's gotten herself into." He only grinned, as two more beers were set in front of them. Though somehow, Roy saw this as a prompt.
"There was this one time," he began to weave the tale, "she was working a case where this woman, Vanessa Viera, was murdered, strangled with a pool toy. Vanessa's husband, Malcolm, worked at some water park in Long Island, and wasn't too bright. Didn't take a genius to figure out he'd done it, especially since she was divorcing him. So Beckett goes to arrest him and he runs, so she ends up chasing him up the stairs one of the biggest waterslides there."
"When he gets to the top there's no where to go but down so he pushes some kid out of the way and goes down. So what does she do? Well, she goes down after him of course, cuffs him right in the middle of the pool at the bottom. So when she brings him into the precinct they're both dripping water all over my floors, and her blouse is completely see through. But does she care? Oh no, she walked through those halls with her head held high and the confidence of a model on the runway." By the end of the story, they're both laughing heartily again and leaning back against the booth.
"She did that? Are we talking about the same Beckett here?" He took another swig of beer.
"Oh yeah, of course I'm the only one around from those days who would dare speak of it. That was a couple years before Ryan came in from narcotics, and about a month before Esposito transferred to the 12th." Roy replied.
"You know what, Captain?" He raised his glass and grinned. "We're going to do this much more often."
"I'll drink to that." More clinking, more drinking and more ordering were the only events that took place for a while, each content in the companionable silence.
"Damn," Roy said after stealing a glance at the clock hanging above the bar, "I have to get home. Evelyn's going to kill me!"
"Yeah, I should be getting home, too." The captain got out some bills and laid them down on the table, but he'd have none of it.
"No, Roy. This one's on me." He slapped some cash on the table and stood.
"But Castle–" The captain tried to protest but he waved his concerns away with a flick of his hand.
"I invited you here, I pay. Plus, now I get to torture Beckett on Monday because of you. If that's not payment in its own right, I don't know what is." He smiled and turned towards the door, Montgomery following his lead as he stood. They were greeted by the impatient honks of cars stuck in traffic and the cool October wind as the two men exited the bar.
"Night, Castle. See you Monday." He nodded as Montgomery waved, making his way to the curb.
"See you, Captain. And thanks for the ammo." Hailing a cab, Montgomery climbed in and flashed him a smile before the cab joined the others, drivers slamming their horns and yelling into the night. The bar was only a few blocks from the loft so he opted to walk, morphing into part of the crowd as he wound his way through the city.
So, I'm just gonna go cry now. Yeah, I'll go do that.
On a slightly (read: very) unrelated note, I know I haven't updated my story Kamikaze in what can basically be referred to as forever. I have the worst writer's block ever considering that story but inspiration seems to be coming back. We'll see. Just know that I haven't abandoned you guys. I'm really trying to give you and update!
Anyway, review? Please? Gah, I'm so not over Montgomery's death. Or his mix-up in Johanna Beckett's case. Or the finale. Then again, I will never be over the finale.