P/N: 11/6/12 Because I can, here's something else from Tom. If you haven't yet, send him an email at briggen69 at gmail dot com - JT
ANN by Oldestman
Chapter 1
Set sometime in early Season 3
3am
Alley between 8th Av & Lexington
Castle beat Beckett to the crime scene, an unusual first. Things had been rocky between them, strained and tenuous. He hoped maybe things would be less stressful but they weren't. She still held him at arm's length, still 'rewarded' him with her presence in his life outside of the precinct on occasion but those treats were few and far between.
She blew off the last movie night at the last minute with a text: 'something came up, sorry' and that something had a name: Josh. It was always going to be Josh. He just couldn't accept it. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to get the girl. That's how he would have written it.
Kate drove up as close to the yellow police tape as possible, not wanting to get too wet in the cool spring rain that was more mist than anything. She'd pulled a zippered hoodie on over her bare skin and the zipper caught about two-thirds of the way up, unnoticed. Castle was probably there already and she hated being late.
Castle squatted down beside Lanie as she pointed out some things that he hadn't been able to see from his usual vantage and she'd called him over. At his age, kneeling would have been easier but the puddles and blood kept him on his feet, his knees reminding him every second of how much they ached in his current position.
He balanced a take-out carrier with two coffees that he'd picked up on the way to the crime scene on one knee and it was a Herculean task just to keep his balance.
"Rick, see this from my perspective. This is the process of observation and assimilation you asked me about. I know you want Lauren to have the right methodology when she and Nikki are examining a body, right?"
He nodded, forgetting his aching knees. Lanie's tidbits were rarely shared and he wished he'd brought his little notebook so that he could write her dialogue and comments but he'd forgotten in the half-sleeping preparations to leave his loft.
"What have you got for me, Lanie?" She squatted down and shined her maglight on the body of the young woman, partially clothed and still clutching a purse although the contents were strewn around her to make it look like a mugging gone wrong.
Castle looked up and was going to say 'hello' but the words died in his mouth. From this angle he could see – love bites, hickies, sucker bites, whatever the current term was, - on her neck and across her collarbone and down across the top of her breasts. He knew when Lanie stopped her recitation and just stared at Beckett that she'd seen them, too.
Castle stood up, knees popping like some old man's and turned, but Lanie's hand was faster, grabbing his pinkie and getting his attention. She looked at him, her face flushed with pity and concern, and then looked at Beckett and then at the body.
"I was telling Rick that from the first observation…"
He didn't hear whatever else Lanie said. Beckett smelled of sex. She reeked of it. She smelled like him and Rick Castle had had enough.
"Lanie, I'm heading back. This is just the usual 'pop and drop' and I got a breakfast meeting," he glanced at his watch, "in three hours. I'll catch up with you at the Precinct."
He walked around the corner onto Lexington Av and tossed the coffee carrier into a wire trash receptacle.
"God damn her!" He pivoted and threw a punch into a granite panel on the façade of the store on the corner. He almost vomited from the pain that blossomed from his knuckles and fingers.
That was a damned stupid thing to do, Richard. Damned stupid. He heard his mother's voice chastising him and he had to agree. He'd been doing a lot of stupid things over the past few years because of Detective Katherine Beckett, NYPD. It was time he smartened up.
Castle squeezed the wrist of his injured hand and then waved down a cab that was slowly driving down the avenue attracted by the flashing royal blue lights on the patrol cars arrayed around the alley entrance.
"Manhattan South Trauma. I think I broke my damned hand." He flopped back onto the seat and rested the elbow of his injured hand on his knee. What a mess.
Lanie finished the professional portion of the evening's entertainment and then confronted Beckett.
"Detective Beckett, you might want to zipper up that hoodie over your boobs and go home and shower before heading into the Precinct. You stink of sex and it's no wonder Rick 'excused' himself. And put concealer on those love bites before you come to work."
"Um, sorry, Lanie, but Josh came by last night and we…"
"Talk to the hand, Kate. What you and Motorcycle Boy do is your business. It's your crime scene now. I'm taking the body to the morgue."
"You think Castle got an eyeful? Is that why he left?"
"Well, that 'breakfast meeting' was a lame excuse even for Castle and considering he dumped those two cups of coffee into the trash bin up on the corner, yeah, an eyeful and a belly full. You are a piece of work, Kate Beckett."
"He's had breakfast meetings before and still come to the crime scene. He's a homicide junkie, you know that."
"It ain't homicide he's addicted to." She turned away from her friend and caught up with the meat wagon. She had a long day ahead of her.
Manhattan South Trauma Center
He couldn't fill out his insurance and health forms because of his hand so an orderly helped him do it. The woman was more interested in keeping his blood from dripping all over her forms than anything.
"Mr. Castle, just have a seat out in the waiting area and a nurse will be with you to start the exam." He found a seat in the third row of blue plastic chairs and leaned against the wall. He felt so damned stupid. He was nearly 42 years old and he still lashed out when he lost his temper.
He jerked from a light doze when he heard 'Richard Castle?' being called and he stood and walked toward the sound of the voice that called his name.
"That's me." The short nurse in dark blue scrubs looked like she stepped out of a film set. A stethoscope hung around her neck and her mousy blonde hair was done up in a loose bun that had loosened somewhat over the hours and now threatened to come undone. If there was a stereotypical 'ER nurse', this woman fit the ticket. Even in his haze of pain, Castle could tell that in the right light and with a full night's sleep she'd be a head-turner but now she just looked tired and worn.
"Okay, I see why you're here. From just a glance I'd say…self-inflicted, right? Have anger issues, Mr. Castle?" Her half-shell reading glasses perched on her pert little nose threatened to fall off when she leaned down to examine his hand more closely and he had the idiotic notion that he should push them back up for her with his index finger.
He hissed in pain when she straightened out his fingers and now he seriously considered busting up the other hand on her face.
"Sorry, but we're going to have to get them straightened out eventually. The doctor is tied up right this minute with an abdominal GSW, er, sorry that's a – "
"Gun Shot Wound, yeah, I know. Okay but can I sit down again? The hallway isn't my idea of an exam room." His tone was sharp and critical and she raised her eyes from his hand to his face but the biting retort died on her lips.
"Yeah, I guess you'd know all about that, right, Mr. Castle? I didn't recognize you at first. Let's get you up on the exam table and I'll see about rousing a resident from his nap to take care of the hand."
Rick sat back and then fished out his cell phone and sent a one-thumbed text message to Alexis about his breakfast meeting and that he'd see her after school. Then he sent a text to Gina telling her a sanitized version of 'Castle was an idiot' and told her he wouldn't be making any meetings today.
He got a call back almost immediately and the nurse walked in and gave him the stink eye about his cell but didn't say anything until he was off the phone.
"Girlfriend didn't sound too happy. This happen often?"
"Daughter, and yeah, she wasn't, but it's the last time. I may be old but I do still have the capacity to interpret data and come to conclusions – even if they don't meet my preconceived notions."
"Wow, all that at 5:20am? I'm impressed, Mr. Castle. Listen, the resident's finishing up some do-gooder-make-work and will be in shortly. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Not vending machine pee but nurses' coffee?"
"Oh, bless you…" He couldn't make out her name tag and she held it up for him to see.
"Ann, Ann Smith, Head Trauma Nurse. No problem. Just part of the Manhattan South Trauma Center Circle of Service."
"That's a stupid commercial, y'know."
"Yeah, and it's not like we have to troll for business or anything. Waiting room's never empty."
"Mr. Castle, you've fucked up your hand but good. I'd show you your x-ray but you wouldn't know what I was showin' you anyhow. Bottom line? A trip to dreamland and when you wake up, a monster cast on your hand with a tail that ends just south of the elbow and will be your new best friend for the next 6 weeks or so."
The resident was tired after 18 hours on and pulled no punches and couldn't have cared less about the Circle of Service Guarantee. Neither could Castle by that time.
"You're not going to keep me overnight, are you?"
"Got no room unless you code on the table or somethin'. You'll be out of here by 5pm, maybe earlier. Now, let Nurse Evil Ann handle getting you ready and then the Bone Man will fix you right up. He's pretty good, too, if he's sober and it's a Tuesday, so chances are he will be."
"But it's Thursday!" Castle was feeling the effects of the Vicodin Ann Smith had given him.
Rick pulled out his cell and called his mother to ask her to be at the loft when Alexis got home from school. Even at 17, he still worried about her and probably babied her too much but that was his main purpose in life, being Dad.
"Richard, do you even listen to anything I say? I told you I'd be in Toledo until Sunday. Honestly, Richard, either quit drinking so much or – "
"Forgot, okay? I'll call Gina to – " but he didn't finish the sentence.
"Gotta go, Mother. Send Alexis a text and tell her I'll be home later." He hung up and groaned. Nothing was going according to anything like a life plan.
"Trouble getting a baby sitter? Your daughter sounded pretty mature to me, Rick." They'd long since become 'Rick' and 'Ann' since she was his primary care giver.
"Nah but I don't like her coming into an empty place after school. She's 17 but she's my baby. It's just been us since she was 3."
"A best selling author and playboy who is also a single dad who still finds time to worry about his daughter. That's sweet, Rick. I'll bet she doesn't think so, though."
"Nope. Thinks since she's raised me to be the man I am today that she's more worldly and knowledgeable about things than her old man. She's probably right, too. Best damned kid on the planet. I know. I took a survey."
The Vicodin had loosened his tongue and pulled out his normal filters. Ann just laughed. He probably was the world's best dad if she asked his daughter.
"What happened to Mrs. Castle?" Open mouth, insert foot.
"Which one? Alexis' birth mother found her new direction from her director's bed and then was cavalier enough to deny it even when it hit the scandal rags. She wanted her life on her terms and a husband and daughter weren't even mentioned in the fine print so I got a divorce and Alexis. Wife #2 was also my publisher and was proof that business and pleasure should never be mixed. Exit wife #2."
"Looking for #3 in all the wrong places?" She was keeping his mind occupied since she knew he was nervous but her curiosity got the better of her and she probed out of fan-girl interest.
"Not really. Thought things were heading that way with a woman I met but she's pretty much slammed the door on that one. I'm getting too old for it anyway. Leave the Great Stalk to the younger set."
"You're not that old, Rick. 40 is the new 30, haven't you read?" She chuckled. He wasn't too old. She was 33 but felt like 40 some mornings.
"It's not nice when a kid like you laughs at an old man like me. Hurts my feelings."
"I'm to be on the wrong side of 35 soon, Rick, and with this as a career, I'll age fast. Pretty soon I'll be stalking the Walking Dead in Geriatrics for dates."
They both laughed at that and then the 'Bone Guy' and his crew showed up and he was gone.
She was putting his personal belongings in a lockbox when his cell rang and she answered it without thinking.
"South Trauma, can I help you?" Conditioned response and she cringed. It was his phone and she had no right to answer it.
"South Trauma? Is this Castle's phone?"
"Yes. He's going into surgery right now and – "
"Surgery! What happened? How bad is it? I'll – I'll be right down." She heard the woman's voice continue talking to someone else in background as she apparently hung up her phone.
She heard 'Castle's at Manhattan South Trauma Center and is going into surgery! Do you two know anything about it?'
12th Precinct
"Castle's at Manhattan South Trauma Center and is going into surgery! Do you two know anything about it?"
"Nope. Thought he was in a breakfast meeting with his publisher, The Devourer of Flesh."
"I'm going down there. Keep working the mug shots and missing persons and see if we can come up with an ID. Esposito, go visit your favorite ME and bring her up to date on Castle and see if there's anything new on the body."
She was in the elevator before she realized that she was still wearing what she'd been at the crime scene. There just hadn't been time to change when things got to popping and a second unrelated body dropped.
'I'll have to change before tonight anyway.'
She tugged the zipper up and rummaged through her purse for something to cover the marks Josh had left on her neck and other places. They'd been making love when she'd gotten the 'body drop' call and he'd marked her, increasing her excitement and arousal and pushing her over the edge to her own orgasm. She hoped he cleaned up a little before he left for the hospital. She'd left marks of her own, too.
P/N:2 If you haven't yet, send Tom an email if you've enjoyed any of his stories. You can hit him up at briggen69 at gmail dot com