Distress from the Dungeons
Chapter 1
A/N This story follows from Life Goes on and takes place in the same future history universe, but you shouldn't have to read about those seven years to understand this tale. Kate and Rick are the parents of Lily, Jake, and Reese, as in the closing coda of season eight. The twins have allergy problems. Alexis is married to Sergei Kasparov, a forensic scientist for CSU. They have a baby son, Bernard. Sergei has two sisters Svetlana and Tatiana, and three brothers, Bob, George, and Tom, as well very capable parents, Sarah and Timothy. Martha is married to Jim Beckett. The Castles now live in a castle-like house in Fieldston Riverdale, part of the Bronx. I'll give you more notes if they are needed.
Kate gazed around nervously, haunted by the fear that something had been forgotten. Tatiana laid a calming hand on her arm. "Everything is going to be just fine. The twins are napping peacefully. Svetlana and I will take good care of them and Lily while you're gone, and my mother will be checking in with us. I believe Martha and your dad will be visiting with the kids as well."
Castle returned from the limo waiting outside. "The luggage is all stowed. Maybe we should ask the driver to swing by Lily's school on the way to the airport so we can say goodbye again. I mean, we did it pretty fast before she got on the van to go to school this morning."
"Castle, we've been telling her everything about this trip for weeks," Kate reminded him. "You've shown her video of every place we're going to be. She was okay when we said goodbye this morning, more than you were. If you make a big deal at her school, you'll only make her nervous. Besides, we may not have time, if we're going to make it through security for our flight."
"Alright," Castle agreed reluctantly.
Kate linked her fingers with his for the short walk to the waiting car. The driver ushered them into the plush leather interior. Kate was glad they hadn't delayed. The traffic through the tunnel on the way to the airport was bumper to bumper. Between checking their luggage and providing the required documentation for an international flight, even with the accelerated passage through the TSA lines they'd purchased, they arrived at their gate only a few moments before first class boarding. Experienced flier Castle had brought a bag with noise canceling headphones and neck pillows for both of them, but until all the passengers were settled in their seats, he occupied himself with people watching. The flight to Heathrow Airport was full, and he noted an endless stream of characters to whom some of which, he attached his own names. He silently dubbed a man with a fussily curled mustache, Hercule Poirot, and a white haired woman with brilliant blue eyes, Jane Marple. Then there was the man trying to look unobtrusive, but whose eyes took in every detail. Castle pegged him as the air marshal, especially when he took the aisle seat in the last row of first class. He seemed incongruous in the company of people reminiscent of detectives of an earlier era.
Kate pulled out her phone while the plane remained at the gate. "You're calling Tatiana, aren't you?" Castle asked. "Remind her that Lily still likes to have her purple elephant when she's feeling insecure. We'll still be in the air when she goes to bed, and she might need it."
"Castle, you reminded Tatiana twice before we left," Kate pointed out, "but I'll mention it again if it makes you feel better. I just want to make sure she knows where to find the updates to the twins' diet." She smiled sheepishly. "We are a pair, aren't we?"
"There is nothing wrong with being conscientious parents," Castle insisted. "You should have seen me when Alexis was little. For the first ten years of her life I refused to do book signings anywhere I couldn't take her with me. I think she saw the children's corner of bookstores in almost every major city in the country, and a few in Canada and overseas too. She did have an adorable passport photo."
"I'm sure she did, Castle. But if we don't find a way to relax on this trip, there's no point in going. You could have sent a video accepting your Warwick prize in absentia and they could have mailed your prize. But it's too late to change our minds now. If we try to get off a plane where we've checked luggage, they'll have to go with the protocol for potential terrorists and we'll leave all these people sitting on the ground while they search for our bags."
"You're right," Castle agreed, but signaled the flight attendant to request a scotch and accepted a couple of pieces of too warm sushi to go with it.
The flight was smooth but long, and by the time Kate and Rick made it through customs, they wanted nothing more than to than to check into their hotel. Adding to that, the change in time zone was disorienting, especially in the fog and darkness outside. London traffic was no more obliging than the traffic in New York had been, and the short distance from the airport still stretched into another hour.
Castle wearily regarded their suite. It had an air of age not usually felt in U.S. hotels. The wood of the furniture had a deep patina and a faint scent of lemon oil. The quilt that served as a bedspread on the substantial king sized bed, appeared to be handmade. While the room boasted wi fi, the desk that would hold a computer was clearly designed for writing with a pen and paper. The fixtures in the bathroom were modern and looked almost brand new. Like the marshal and passengers on the plane, they created a tension between the old and the new. Checking the drawer in the desk, he found a directory of tourist destinations, including some that promised the atmosphere of more ancient times. He gazed appreciatively at the images of castles.
Kate cleared the decorative cushions from the bed. "Babe, you really should get some rest. We both should. What will be a luncheon presentation for the locals tomorrow, will still seem like early morning to us."
"That's true," Castle agreed. "It would probably be better if neither one of us falls asleep during my acceptance speech." He grabbed one last longing look at the photos of the mysterious keeps, then began unbuttoning his shirt.
Local morning came too soon. To make it worse, the fog had remained, giving Castle no sun to help reset his internal clock. He was glad he had a hired car instead of having to navigate on his own, especially driving on the wrong side of the road. Despite the lack of dinner the night before, he and Kate had just had coffee and scones in their room before leaving for the awards ceremony. Still, the plate sized roast beef filled Yorkshire puddings that were served, complete with large helpings of thick cut potatoes, and peas cooked to pale colored softness, were discomfiting. He did his best to nibble at his meal while engaging in discussion with previous the Warwick prize winners who shared his table. When the time arrived to accept his prize and make his speech, the thousand watt Castle smile was present, if a little forced.
When the festivities concluded, Kate expected Castle would want to check out some of the sights they'd planned on visiting London. She was surprised when he demurred, preferring to return to the hotel. "What's the matter, Babe? You hardly ate anything at lunch, not even the roast beef, and you usually love it. Now you're turning down a potential adventure. Are you feeling okay?"
Castle nodded a head that suddenly seemed too heavy for his neck. "I'm all right. I think I'm just jet lagged. I can catch a nap and we can go out tonight. I'll bet someone at the hotel knows how to snag tickets for what is supposed to be sold out in the West End.
"Fine," Kate agreed. "Naps are good."
A/N The Warwick Prize is real, but I've completely made up the details.
