Setting: Midway Season 4
Rating: T mostly for mild swearing.
Disclaimer: Really? Does anyone really think Andrew Marlowe writes fan fiction? With enormous respect I acknowledge he is the owner of Castle and the amazing characters he let's us play with. Kudos Mr. Marlowe and kudos to the actors who portray them.
Chapter 1 Peter Pan is Bored
"All children, except one, grow up." Peter Pan by Sir James Mathew Barrie
Richard Castle was coming dangerously close to repeating history. There was a time, about 4 years ago, he had writer's boredom. (It was a precursor to writer's block.) Last time that happened he killed off his hero and had no clue what was next. This time he wasn't bored with his character; he was bored without his character. He needed that rush to distract him from that deep ache of wanting her, his muse, every waking moment. (He had his dreams at night, but that was a need best not seen during waking hours.)
He wanted her. He had in her in words, he wormed his way into her life through many deliberate deeds, but like every drug, he built up a tolerance and needed more of her. Since he couldn't have her love he needed a distraction.
He turned to his daughter as playmate.
"Alexis, time to stop moping around the house and go out for some fun. Join me for a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show?" He plopped on the couch dislodging the book tablet she got for Christmas and pulled out her ear buds to ensure he couldn't be ignored.
She distained to answer him, the glare being enough.
"Too inappropriate to view transvestites and adultery as entertainment?"
Sighing she resigned herself to schooling her father. "Dad, we can't go to a midnight movie together. Nothing says pathetic like a senior in high school and her dad going out on the weekends. Just because you tie yourself to unattainable relationships don't expect me to pick up the slack."
"Your concern for my mental health is touching and has nothing to do with your reputation of sitting home at ten pm on a Friday night." If she could push his buttons, he could push hers.
The red head was going to live up to her reputation, "If I was really concerned for your health I would lecture you about deplorable sleep habits since you write late into the night, you eat way too much take out food laced with additives and preservatives, and you seek police adventures with reckless abandon."
Instead of taking umbrage at her nagging he reminded himself that this was the serious woman in his life who didn't need teasing comebacks. "I sense that you are growing weary of the high school high jinx and are ready to move on in life?" Castle was experienced at protecting his women especially from themselves.
"If I'd been accepted for early admission to Stanford I'd be moving on. Instead I feel like I'm in limbo."
"And I predict you would have a heavy heart mourning for the imagined loss of all the fun with your life long friends while you struggled with being a new kid on campus. The grass always looks greener…" After softly encouraging her he tried to physically nudge her, "Laser tag? Winner gets out of laundry duty for the next week."
Alexis was not in a mood to be placated or play. "Dad, I really don't want you touching my laundry and I certainly refuse to do yours."
The millionaire author smiled at his down-to-earth daughter who ate healthy, cleaned up after herself, had modest spending habits, and was spending weekend night curled up on the couch with 100 Books to Read before You Die. "Honey, you've got time before your demise to get through great literature. Let's work our way through the best sci-fi movies of all times instead."
"Movies that reinforce death isn't permanent and the inconceivable happens but everyone lives happily ever after?"
"Yep. Because no matter what happens tomorrow tonight is good because I've got my favorite girl with me." He gave her a mega smile that left no doubt about the love for his offspring.
Further conversation was checked by commotion at the door. Martha Rodgers entered with a distinguished gray haired gentleman at her side. "Make yourself at home. I won't be long since I've spent a lifetime managing quick costume changes."
The Broadway actress noticed the extras in the room. "Oh excellent timing. Be good kids and entertain Nigel for me. We are going out for drinks." She paused as the man of the house came over to shake hands. "Richard, this dashing rogue is a government agent. Nigel, meet my son and best selling author. The beautiful creature lurking on the couch is my granddaughter, Alexis." Without further ado, Martha ascended the steps and exited the scene.
The men shook hands as Alexis scooped up her book pad. "If you'll excuse me…" She gave a polite smile and followed her gram up the steps.
"May I get you a drink?" Castle offered as his eyes swept over the man. He filed away the characterization: mixed heritage, longer hair than most older men wore, lines of wisdom etched into the face, broad shoulders but of average height.
"No thank you. Something tells me I better pace myself with Martha." He did his own assessment.
Castle chuckled at how well the man seemed to peg his mother. "As a dutiful son I am relieved to hear you're trying to keep your wits about you." He was beyond the what-are-your-intentions but still continued to size him up.
"Your reputation precedes you, not as an author, but as a man who reads people well." The older man's eyes twinkled as he waited for the curiosity to prod the mystery writer.
"Care to share?" Castle searched his memory for people who knew a Nigel and drew a blank. Then again, the government liked its paperwork and any number of agencies might have a dossier on him. The thought made him rather gleeful.
"Where's the fun in that? Besides, our time is short because I wager Martha won't keep me waiting long. Know this: I've been candid with Ms. Rodgers with my intentions for the evening and the reason I sought her out. You have a protective streak I don't wish to engage so I hope your impression of me is honorable or trustworthy." He paused to level a charming smile on the younger man. "I am counting on it."
"CIA? No wait, you said trustworthy. FBI - too obvious. NSA? Those people like to play it close to the vest!" Rick saw no sign of hitting the truth so he kept up the game. He paused to evaluate the man further. There was a hint of an accent. The cut of the suit jacket was European understated quality. No flashy silk tie but a red kerchief was folded neatly in the breast pocket. Leather patches accented the elbows and trimmed the collar. Really, could the man be any more obvious? "MI5! You are with the British Secret Service! Oh damn this is like a dream come true. Not that I dream about men but I do dream about conspiracies and mysteries and UFOs…"
Nigel chuckled at the mischievous mind before him. "I admit I've been to the Old Haunt and had a few pints of bitters. Other than that, I'm more New England than England. Sorry chap!"
Castle strung it along even as he wondered about the man's reconnaissance of his establishment. "Of course you can't tell me, you'd have to kill me. Come on; say your full name for me. Is it Bond, James Bond?"
Nigel had not been briefed about the sense of humor but after having met Martha it wasn't a shock. "Bigtree, Nigel Bigtree."
Native American mixed with New England English? Yeah, that fit. "Ooo, this is good enough to be in my book. You are a liaison between government treaties and tribal rights?" Hopefully by correcting Castle he would reveal his affiliation. Richard hated to be reduced to asking his mother to fulfill his curiosity.
Rick's curiosity was destined to go unfulfilled. Martha descended the stairway and captivated her date's immediate attention. "There. This proves I am a woman of many talents since I've kept you waiting nary a moment." She saw the perturbed look on her son's face and teased him, "Don't pout Richard, you'll have to forgo telling Nigel about the time you were vetted as a writer for the Bond series."
Nigel enjoyed the interchange and played along. He clasp Richard in manly hug and feigned his sorrow at the miserly amount of interaction the men shared. "Maybe I'll run into again someday, until then, I dare not keep the lady waiting." He pulled back from Castle and offered Martha his arm with a flourish.
Castle watched them exit without a backward glance and huffed to himself. It was still Friday night and he was still bored. He looked around the empty room and weighed the consequences of calling Beckett. They had a dead ex con. The case was routine. It was a matter of waiting for forensics results and warrants, but Saturday was going to be an extra work day for them. Better not call her but he wondered if he might get away with a text message. Absently he searched his pockets for his phone.
In his pocket he found a folded sheet of paper. Wondering what note he had forgotten and praying it wasn't an important reminder for something that already occurred he stiffened at the neatly scripted message. Your partner is getting a letter from inmate 42678A33. We need to know what it says. Call 212-555-3948. Mark sends his regards and hopes you two finally thawed.
An unknown government agent slipped a clandestine message into his pocket. Castle did a happy dance and thanked the fates for his charmed life. He wasn't bored anymore.
Author's Note - The story draws on Setup and Countdown S3 - You don't have to know those episodes well, just recall that they were after a dirty bomb. (At the time I published this there were NO stories that featured the Homeland Security Agent.)
The story is completely written, but I pour over reviews to edit unpublished chapters. Sometimes I need to emphasize or clarify points based on what readers respond to. This is helpful because the story isn't read by a beta reader.
Next point, there is an ongoing analogy to Peter Pan throughout the story. You don't have to know that fabled plot, but if you like that kind of symbolism have fun with it (I did. It's based off the original novel, not sequels or Hollywood movies.)