The Castle Wall

Chapter 1

Signing

Richard Castle…Richard Castle…Richard Castle…Rick Castle (just to break it up) Richard Castle. Rick had signed his name thousands of times. Today, the chore seemed like it would never end. He literally couldn't see the end of the line. He knew it extended out of the door of the small bookstore. He wasn't complaining, well okay, he was a little. He really did appreciate his fans; after all they were his bread and butter (he was so bored he even began to think in bad, overused clichés). He wanted to be somewhere else, not sitting in a corner bookstore in the Village. He didn't even remember the name of the shop. It was just another in a long line of public appearances. A duty. A requirement of selling his books. It wasn't that long ago that he lived for events like this. You could meet all sorts of people and discover their stories. He loved finding out the stories, and if he couldn't figure them out, he'd guess; he was very good at guessing or, if all else failed, he'd make one up. You never knew who you could meet, where that meeting would take you, more often than not it would lead to drinks, dinner and then his bedroom, her bedroom or the presidential suite of an upscale hotel. It just wasn't the same...no, if he was going to be honest, he wasn't the same. He was no longer interested in the meaningless; the quick pick me up one night shots to his ego, the "not Becketts". That was the gist of it, if the dreamy-eyed, chest heaving, slightly drooling women weren't Beckett, he simply wasn't interested. He was cordial, friendly and could be a little flirtatious. He also performed everything else Gina or Paula asked him to, except his heart wasn't in it. He wanted to be at the twelfth. He acknowledged that his behavior bore a striking resemblance to the poster child for petulance, but as long as he kept on smiling and signing, he could bide his time. Richard Castle…Richard Castle…Richard Castle… He casually took a swig of the water bottle provided by the owner of the book shop, and surreptitiously looked down at his watch. How long had he been here? Only an hour? How could it be that he still had two more hours?! Why was this signing taking forever? He sighed, audibly. He really only had one answer. He wanted to be with Beckett. She left the loft early that morning after the call from Espo.


"Body drop?" he asked from his side of the bed after she hung up.

"Yeah" she yawned.

"I'll just be a couple…" His words drifted back to the pillow his face was buried in. As was often the case, he had a plot idea in the middle of the night and long experience had told him that he wasn't getting any sleep until he got it down on paper. In the past, he had tried jotting down the notes, ignoring the idea, even distractions like watching sit-coms (he recently found Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place on Netflix) or sci-fi (Star Wars or oh, Firefly, he had made a mental note to meet Joss Whedon someday) or simply browsing the internet, but, in the end, he knew the quickest way to get some sleep was to give in to the itch and scratch out a chapter or two or twenty. So, Castle got out of bed at 1:45 and hadn't returned until nearly 6. It was now 6:30.

Beckett leaned over and kissed his cheek, the part of his face not mashed into the pillow. "Sleep. I know you were up all night. Besides, don't you have a signing today?" Sometimes, she reflected, he looked like such a little kid; hair rumpled and softly snoring into the pillow. She smiled, left their bed and began to get herself ready for her day. He grunted conceding her wisdom and relaxed back to sleep. She woke him an hour later with a cup of coffee. "Time to get up, Castle." she said cheerily.

"I have a few more minutes." He looked cranky. That little boy was surfacing again. Kate smiled, gave him a kiss to get him through his day and headed to the crime scene. He was only vaguely aware of the closing door as she left. Castle was deciding if he really did have enough time to sneak a few more moments of sleep, when his phone rang. He sat up and picked up his coffee and his phone without focusing on the caller ID "You just can't resist me."

"Actually, I can." Gina Cowell sounded perturbed. Well, that was pretty normal. That was the way she spoke to him. Gina was his publisher and second ex-wife.

He sputtered his cold coffee on the sheets. "You're not who I was expecting."

"Obviously. Richard, where are you?" He imagined her as he always did, on her phone walking someplace very important, juggling a coffee, her briefcase, a ridiculously expensive handbag, the phone and her eye rolls.

"I'm at home. Why?"

"Book signing? The Village?"

"I have that down for nine this morning."

"Yeah, it's nine-thirty, now." Gina was a master of staying restrained when it came to speaking to him. He knew that he annoyed her and she had good reason. While his first marriage had ended because of Meredith, he was totally on the hook for the end of his marriage to Gina. That didn't stop them from having a good working rapport. A couple of years ago, they had tried dating again, and although he tried to convince himself otherwise, he was already too far under Beckett's spell and the renewed romantic relationship with Gina didn't last.

"Nine-thirty? I swear I just looked at the clock and it was seven-thirty. I'll be there in thirty. Sorry, Gina." He quickly hung up the phone and scrambled to the shower. He skipped shaving to save time, besides, wasn't stubble still sexy? Fifteen minutes later, he grabbed a cup of coffee and was on his way to the Village.


Gina was waiting for him outside of the shop. So was a line. He paused to apologize again to Gina and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, smiled at the crowd and ducked inside. Gina had him set up at a small antique table surrounded by the latest Nikki Heat novel "Frozen Heat", a latte, a water bottle and an arsenal of sharpies, and she never forgot the Montblanc pen he favored. A way too young, pimply faced man stood to the left of the table. Security was embroidered on his blue polo. Rick figured just about anybody who wanted to get to him today, could.


"Mr. Castle?" Rick had momentarily stopped signing while he was reliving the morning.

Beckett.

When his eyes focused again the young woman in front of him had an interesting expression on her face. It was a combination of impatience and adoration, not a mix you'd usually see. He grinned, "I'm sorry; I think I left my stove on."

Crickets.

She stared at him blankly, but still, with a high regard he knew he didn't deserve at that moment. He needed to focus. He smiled and this time, he allowed it to reach his eyes. She caught her breath. Yep. That worked.

"To whom shall I make this out?"

"Alexis", the young woman said shyly, looking down at her fingers.

"Really? My daughter's name is Alexis." A broad genuine smile graced his lips. He loved thinking about Alexis. She truly was his ultimate source of pride, his best accomplishment. She had turned into a beautiful, intelligent young woman, despite her father's antics. She was incredible. He had no illusions as to just how implausible an outcome this was. He was, after all, a large man-child. He loved to play. It was amazing to him that they had made it this far and so well. He raised her on his own after Meredith, her mother, left him. Meredith needed to "define herself" in Hollywood and that didn't include their daughter, Alexis or Rick, but it did include her director. Ah, Meredith…

A small, clearing of the throat cough and a stammered response brought him slamming back to the present. "I..I know." The Alexis in front of him looked slightly uncomfortable. Rick didn't seem to notice, or at least he didn't point it out. His Alexis wasn't, after all, a secret. He had always guarded her privacy, but when asked, like any proud papa, he would expound upon her virtues and grace.

"Alexis it is!" He inscribed the book: 'To Alexis – A brilliant woman with a brilliant name. – Rick Castle'. Alexis took it back from him,

"Thank you, Mr. Castle." She smiled a little self-consciously, moved away from the table, and disappeared into the book store displays. She turned to watch, she was always watching. No one noticed as the look of pure pride and adoration melted into resentment and hurt while she stared at the brilliant blue eyes from the self-help shelves to the right of the table where he sat. She heard him say; "Thanks for coming out today. What's your name?" He was speaking to the bimbo who had stood behind her in the line. What difference did it make to him what her name was? Why did he constantly hurt her like this? He didn't need to know that woman's name. He only needed to know hers.


Castle signaled his security that he needed a break; he had been sitting for nearly two hours. The guard, who had introduced himself as Billy, came forward to cap the line. Rick announced, "I'll be right back." and headed to the back of the store. He pulled out his phone and was disappointed that he hadn't received any texts from Beckett or the boys. So he called.

"Beckett"

"Hey"

"Hey, Castle. Bored?"

He could imagine her face, concentrating on whatever she was doing, but also completely focused on the conversation. She was a master at multi-tasking. Not a very sexy description, so he didn't pass it on. "No, not bored, exactly. The people have been fairly quiet, polite and well behaved today." he paused, "I'm just wishing I was somewhere else."

"Like where?"

"Oh, I don't know,' he threw in a dramatic pause, "there?"

"There's not much to do right now. You'd be bored here, too."

"I could be a distraction." She pictured the unbridled lust that he could summon to his face when he spoke innuendo. It was his second language. He also had mastered sarcasm and irony. She bit her bottom lip.

"You're always a distraction, but not the good kind." She shot him down.

"Ouch. Maybe I won't come play after I'm done." He said sullenly, a pout appearing on his bottom lip.

"Richard?" She could hear Gina calling him.

"Stop pouting and get back to work. The sooner you're done, the sooner you can annoy me in person."

His lips curled, "It's a date, bye."

"See ya." She put down her phone and let the warm feeling spread from her cheeks throughout her entire body. Kate took an audible deep breath and looked up to see Ryan and Esposito watching her, with knowing, amused looks on their faces.

"How's Castle?" Espo asked, barely containing his entertainment.

"Yeah, in my imagination, he's being mauled by hundreds of" he paused as he pictured Castle's fan base, "...adoring fans…it's a tough job." Ryan couldn't resist getting in on the fun.

Beckett just looked at them, deciding whether to play. "He actually said that everyone was well behaved today, so sorry Ryan, no mauling."

Kevin looked disappointed and then considerate, "Does he ever have any problems at one of these public appearances? I mean, he's pretty accessible."

"Not that he's ever told me about. When he first started working with us, we had to go through his fan mail, remember?" They nodded. "Most of those letters were pretty disturbing. He shrugged it off as an occupational hazard."

"I guess that would get pretty upsetting if you let it get to you." Espo was thoughtful. Although he had worked with Castle for over four years now, he realized that he never really thought about that other side to his friend. He knew of the public persona, but he also knew that was just an image. He silently praised Castle for his courage, in these days, with the whackos getting bolder; he figured it was pretty risky to put yourself out there. It was a new facet to Castle he had never considered.

"I pretty sure he doesn't think about it." Kate was saying. "I have to keep reminding myself that he's been doing this for a long time; I think he's got it down, second nature."

"Is there ever security?" Kevin asked, concerned.

"Yeah, rent-a-cops, mostly. I'll deny it if either of you say anything, but I think Castle could defend himself better than most of the guards I've seen at his events."

Ryan pursed his lips and Esposito just shook his head. As cops, they put themselves at risk every day to 'serve and protect'. Castle didn't have to make appearances, they both knew his books would sell if he cut off all contact with the public, but Castle was truly grateful for his fans.

"Alright, enough of that. Let's see if Lanie has confirmed the knife as the murder weapon." Kate wanted to get back to work before her own fears for his safety took over. It wasn't the first time she thought about it.