EDIT: This, my friends, is definitely quite exaggerated Aussie Slang. We don't generally speak like this. But I really wanted to make the slang noticeable.

A/N: Okay so I had this idea to 'translate' stories into an Australian format. So write somebody's story, but with heaps of stereotypical Aussie slang. I sent a message out on tumblr and I had some interest in this endeavour.

As you guys might notice, the slang definitely makes the characters less, sophisticated. This probably goes a little OOC but it is basically placing all the characters of Castle in an Australian environment. I have changed some of the names of places to make it relevant to Australia also.

prosemed, thank you for allowing me to use your story and bombard it with a lot of crazy Aussie slang.

Again, I did not write the story. I just changed some words and actions to make it Aussie-fied


Strewth the cuppa he drank today. Was it too strong? Or had the obvious residue of the previous night drinking with the flies, taint it? Castle surely could muse up several things.

But he refused to, in fear of thinking about, well, her.

Thankfully Martha had been so accommodating to him that morning, even if the coffee went to waste. His body had sunk well into his sheets as he nursed a headache. He could barely move, but not for lack of will or power. Any attempt disturbed some part of his head, straining a vein possibly, the throbbing beating against his skin that still reeked of the bar. His itinerary for the day entailed just to stay in bed, and maybe, just maybe make it to the living room to distract himself with some tv, but Martha dragged him out with her to the bank having none of his moping around.

She struggled to yarn with him in the car on the way, each try dismissed with a nod or incoherent mumble as he often dazed out. Only half the words she spoke to him made it through his ears, but even then they weren't processed completely.

"Kiddo I'm preggers." she said, in a last attempt to grab his attention.

"Good-o, mother," he replied, eyes unwavering from the road.

She threw up her hands in frustration, she'd had a gutful. Staring him down, she waited for his eyes. He didn't meet hers until he looked her way to go for a parking spot. "What?"

"Pull your head in, Richard," she said pointing her finger. She sustained it even while getting out of the car, but before he could respond, she strode far ahead of him, leaving for a moment to allow him to step back into reality.

Listening to his mother bounce back and forth with the manager got old after about two minutes. His fingers grew fond of his forehead, trying to remedy the violent pulse at his temple, aggravated with every increase of his mother's voice. He had insisted several times to just cosign the loan, but her stubbornness persisted, prolonging their stay. In an effort to divert his attention elsewhere, his awareness of his ringing mobile grew, which had been going off every twenty or so minutes since eight. Beckett had been calling and messaging, and within the last hour the frequency increased exponentially, but he let them all pass…until he couldn't stand the sound of it, and or boredom of the wait. Slipping away from the desk, he went to call her back. It only took a couple rings for her to answer.

"Castle–how ya going?" she started, her approach timid. He heard the relief in her voice, but something else underlay it, something like…fear.

"What's up," he managed. His voice kept up, but the words still fell flat. He didn't shy from showing his disinterest, crisp and clear to her ears.

"I was just–um," she struggled, "you right?"

"Just ace," he dismissed. She waited for some continuance, but nothing came.

"My calls and messages, did you happen to–"

"–yeah," he rushed, "I've been flat out like a lizard drinking."

"Righty-o," she said, her tone contradicting her words. No, it certainly wasn't okay. He'd missed so many of her calls and messages. Why? First ditching the talk they were 'sposed to have after the last case, now this?

"Was there anything important? Is that why you called?" He started cutting, cutting away at her, more bitter than the coffee still lingering on his tongue.

"I just thought you would come in today–listen, I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" She let her edge out too. Why the hell was he like this?

"A bit mate, yeah, I'm–tending to some business things right now, I've gotta shoot off."

He shouldn't have called her back.

Silence hung between them, but he paid no attention anymore. His eyes fixated on the two individuals who just walked in, dressed in scrubs, wary and just a little too self-conscious as they entered the building. His focus had wandered so much, he screened out Beckett, who'd been calling for his attention.

"Castle–Castle, is everything right?"

He followed their eyes, watchful of their moves, his breath nearly ceasing as he closed in on them. "No. No it's not–I think this bank is about to be robbed."

"Castle we're not doin' this, okay–"

"–I'm serious," he pressed. Another walked in. His heart and head pulsated in sync. "There's a man and woman dressed in scrubs, and a third just walked in. They all have iffy looking–"

Then everything went pear shaped

"Everybody hit the deck! Now!"

Shit.

Panic. Screams. Demands. Her chest fell inward, her breath choked in her throat as she listened. Muscles tensed, eager to act, but remained restricted, still aware that she sat helpless at her desk.

And he was there.

"Castle what's happening," she urged him. His silence continued, hollowing out the pit of her stomach as she lie in wait. "You need to tell me what's goin' on."

Fighting against the chaos he had darted for his mother, ducking behind the desk, shielding her from view as he looked on the situation. They instructed everyone to throw down their phones as they began to ravage the place, but he clung to his mobile, knowing this was his lifeline.

"Castle–!"

"–I'm at the Commonwealth Bank on the main drag. They've gone for the manager's key, taken him aside. Emptied the tills. There's three of 'em, all dressed in scrubs."

He listened to her call out to the boys, sending for help. She kept assuring him a squad was on the way, but he knew better. Instinct informed him how this could play out. They've got buckleys. Still, he clung to the hope of being wrong.

"Just three?" she clarified again. As he motioned to speak, a chilled hole rested on the back of his neck. Barrel. With a hard swallow, he forced out the last words.

"Plus one. So I lied, but you're familiar with the concept."

In a moment's confusion, her words went dry, abandoning her mouth as the sound crackled, a new voice emerging on the line. "Your boy's game as Ned Kelly over here with me," he started. "It's a bloody shame I'll have to make an example of him."

She packed on her voice, mustering up the strength to put aside her fear of the stakes in the situation…His life. "I wouldn't do that just yet. I've got the boys in blue on the way over right now. No damage has been done, so you can still come good." She kept her voice leveled, even though her screams tore up the walls inside. Clawing, peeling away at her as her imagination painted the worst. "I'm giving you fair go, a choice. I reckon that's pretty damn generous of me, don't you think?"

"So you're doing me a favour, huh sweetheart?" He cocked his head, staring down at Castle as he trained his gun on him, teasing as he slid it up towards his head.

"The best kind. Because otherwise I'll have to hunt you…and trust me, you don't want that."

"Nah mate, I probably don't." For a moment, he seemed to consider her words. But he snatched it away. "You know what though? I'll take me chances"

The line cut dead, phone crushed under his heel –

along with her heart.


A/N: let me know what you guys think about the Aussie slang. I suggest reading prosemed's story "Atonement" if you want the real thing. This was just a little...experiment shall I say, we wanted to give a go.