This is my first Castle story. I'm addicted to Castle to no end and so the moment I watched the film 'Stranger than fiction', this idea hit me and wouldn't leave me alone, I hope you guys enjoy
Author in the moment.
He sat in his home office, the house was completely quiet, no sound of his mother singing or rehearsing lines, no sound of Alexis studying or violin practice. It was just what he needed, the solace only the middle of the night, or more like early morning could give.
It was just what he needed to clear his mind and wait until the inspiration for a brand new story hit him, he needed the inspiration to hit him fast, in the next couple of hours, the first three chapter were due to Gina, his second ex-wife and publicist tomorrow afternoon at the very very latest. He did not want her to be banging down his door again.
Castle flexed his fingers in front of him until there was a satisfying click, then he rolled his neck and glared at the monitor of the computer screen where a thin black line flashed, taunting, daring him to start writing something new
Taking a deep breath, he looked around his office, books lined the walls, books he'd read in the past mixed with his very own novels. Then a tattered book caught his attention, Casino Royal, the very first book he'd read, I mean really read, got lost in a different world, the book that made him know that all he wanted to do was be a crime writer.
What was it about James Bond he'd love so much? His mind reeled, there were so many things about Bond, the cool gadgets for one, his reckless nature, the women, he got away with everything, wait that was it the women!
Castle couldn't help but grin that was it, inspiration had hit, a women, that's what his next series should be about, a smoking hot but smart female detective that left everyone quaking in her path. One that was relentless and never let things go. Perhaps they had a shady past, something that made them turn to the force, like maybe a family member had been murdered and the killer had never been brought to justice.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his fingers hitting the keys on his key board at lightning speed, writing as fast as he could to get all his ideas down as quickly as he could.
This chick needed a name, a good name, a strong name, a sexy name, Heat, yeah hot ummmm Nikki, Nikki Heat, Castle grimace and shook his head, no too much like a stripper, oooh cop by day stripper by night, he put that idea aside for later.
"Kate" he spoke to no one in particular, he liked the name but she needed a last name. Looking around once again at the books on his shelves he noticed the one about Henry VII, Thomas Becket he'd stood up for what he believed in, a brave a stoic thing to do, "Beckett" Castle smiled to himself, adding an extra 'T' to make it his own.
"Kate Beckett" he spoke the imaginary character's name again, "Detective Beckett" he continued, he could see her now, long chestnut brown hair, curling around her shoulders, flawless tanned skin, glittering brown eyes, tall, leggy. Shaking his head Castle turned back to the writing in hand and began his story, the story of Kate Beckett.
...
Meanwhile across Manhattan…..
The shrill cry of her alarm clock ripped her from sleep, the only escape she got from the world of violent crime and bloody murder she lived. Katherine, Kate Beckett reached over and slapped her alarm clock making it stop ringing.
All she wanted to do was curl back up in bed, go back to sleep, curl up read a book, but she couldn't, she wouldn't, that's not who she was. She lived for her work, it was her job to bring peace and justice to the people and people's families who were murdered, something she doubted she and her father would ever get.
Slipping out of her bed she headed to the bathroom, hoping that a hot shower would wake her up and ready her for the day.
Twenty minutes later she walked back into her bedroom, her hair perfectly dried so her chestnut brown curls framed her face perfectly, wearing a white turtle neck, black trousers, back high heeled boots.
Her father's watch, given to her when he became ten years sober already secured around her wrist, now all she needed was her mother's ring. She reached out to pick it up off of the dressing table in front of her when something made her stop.
Like clockwork every day without fail, Detective Kate Beckett woke at 0500 hours precisely and then headed straight for a shower, loving how the hot water woke her and readied her for the day, a day of getting justice for people that she could never get for herself.
She'd had options when deciding her future, yet she'd ended up at the NYPD. Much like a jigsaw puzzle people never got the full image of the tuff as nail's detective unless they had all of the pieces that would fix together, interlock to create the women she was, but she kept the most valuable pieces hidden, deep inside, only the very corner and edge pieces were ever visible, the rest was all just a mystery, even to the people closest to her.
A deep, mysterious voice was talking about her, shaking her head Kate wished she'd just gone back to bed, perhaps she'd never left, she was in a dream. Holding out her arm she pinched the skin with her long nails, it hurt.
Blinking, she let out a sigh of relief the voice had gone and continued to pick up her mother's ring on the simple silver chain and delicately clasp it around her neck, so the ring would hang just above her heart, under her jumper.
Kate wore her mother's necklace not just as a symbol of the women she'd loved and lost but also as a reminder for why she got up every day, why she was a cop, to find the justice for others that she couldn't get for her mother, another reminder that one day she would find the bastard who killed Joanna Beckett and make them pay.
The Brunet stopped on her way to the kitchen "Hello" she called, hoping to find the owner of the Male voice that seemed to be narrating her life, that seemed to know everything about her. "NYPD show yourself" she called once more, checking every room in her small apartment but still she found no one.
Running a hand through her hair, sweeping it out of her face, Beckett concluded that she must be coming down with something, an illness that was making her imagine that someone was narrating her life, just what she needed.
Her mobile rang from its place on the coffee table, it made her jump, she'd been so fixated on the voice she'd been hearing, she sighed when she saw who it was on the caller ID "Beckett" she answered in her normal fashion.
"Yo, we got a case, it's Beckett flavoured" A familiar male voice told her down the phone, his Hispanic accent coming through strongly, it almost comforted her.
"On my way Esposito" She eventually ended the call after he'd given her the address of the crime scene, she just hoped this case would take her mind off of this morning's strange events.
To Be Continued…