Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not from Castle OR from Gilmore Girls. No characters, no places... nothing, really. Except a bunch of DVDs, some books, a few t-shirts and various other paraphernalia... enough that if I figured out how much money I've spent on all these things over the years it could probably finance a year of college. I... really hope I'm exaggerating. Not sure. Let's just say I don't own anything that I'm not supposed to.
Author's Note: I think I've been in some stage of planning this story for almost four years now. Ever since I started considering writing fics for Castle. Which happened at least a year before I actually started writing them. Needless to say, I'm excited about it. Really excited. Gilmore Girls was my first fandom, but it's been a long time since I've written fanfiction for it, and... well, I just wanted to try this. I've never done a crossover before, but the whole idea of mixing together my two favorite shows of all time... WHAT COULD THE PROBLEM BE? I feel totally confident in saying that everything about this story is about as "me" as it gets. So... here it is. Hope it works. :)
Background Information: In the Castle-verse, we're somewhere around 4.19-4.20. After Castle has found out that Beckett remembers everything that happened when she was shot. In Stars Hollow, time has kept going. It's March 2012, roughly 5 years after the show ended. Rory got a job as a full-time staff writer at the Providence Journal Bulletin, and everything else you need to know will come out in the story.
"We're almost there and nowhere near it. All that matters is we're going."
The short white lines disappeared and reappeared in an endless parade of dashes as he drove. He passed a gray minivan, and for a little while the road before him was empty of cars. The feeling of solitude, that it was just him, the car, and the road, was at once disconcerting and comforting. He wasn't used to being completely alone. He always seemed to be surrounded with people, whether they were colleagues, family, or total strangers. It was the way he'd always lived his life. At the end of his journey this would again be the case, but between here and Boston he would be alone. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. It would give him time to think. Breathe. Refocus.
The deadline for his next Nikki Heat novel was coming up fast, and he was making no progress. Ironically, proximity to his muse seemed to be making things worse. He wasn't exactly thrilled with her, and his anger seemed to be interfering with his ability to write the character. What he needed, he thought, was a change of scenery. He needed to get away from the distractions of New York. Away from his mother and her always-interruptive acting classes. Away from his daughter, as much as he loved her, and her internships and increasingly stressful college search. And away, above all, from the NYPD.
He was in the habit of turning down most of the random book signings that his publicist tried to set up for him, but when she'd mentioned one in Boston this weekend, he'd actually thought it sounded like a good idea. It seemed like the perfect time and the perfect destination. Boston was only about a four-hour drive, so if Alexis needed him for anything he could go home again without taking forever or worrying about flights, and a road trip seemed like just the thing he needed to clear his head. He listened to nothing but the low hum of his Ferrari's engine and looked at nothing but trees and cars and pavement. The monotonous task of driving wiped his mind clear of everything else. By the time he got to Boston he expected to be a blank canvas, ready to dissolve into the world of his book, leaving his own world back in New York. He'd do the book signing, but then he'd have the rest of the weekend to relax, and, hopefully, to write.
Close to the halfway point of his journey he started to get hungry. When he saw an exit with a gas station he took it, thinking that he'd refuel and grab a snack.
He started toward the coffee machines in the mini mart, but he hadn't yet started filling his cup when a woman's voice stopped him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
He frowned and turned toward the voice. She was a young woman, probably somewhere in her mid- to-late-twenties, wearing professional attire, which seemed oddly formal for a mini mart in a fairly rural part of Connecticut. "What," he asked, "drink coffee? I still have a long drive ahead of me, I could use the caffeine."
"No," she laughed, "trust me, I'm an advocate for coffee. But this particular coffee has probably been sitting in the pot since around six this morning."
He immediately put the cup back. "Thanks for the heads-up."
The girl frowned. "I'm sorry if this is rude, but… are you Richard Castle?"
He smiled, always pleased to meet a fan. "As a matter of fact, I am."
"Wow. It's so great to meet you. My name's Rory Gilmore, I love your books."
"Rory Gilmore. Where have I heard that name?"
"I'm a journalist," she said. "I actually work for the Providence Journal Bulletin, but I've had a couple of articles picked up by the New York Times. Maybe you've seen them?"
He considered this. It was possible that he'd read her articles, but he didn't usually remember the names of random reporters. Unless… "You've reviewed my books, haven't you?"
She blushed. "I write a reviews column for the Providence paper, but it's not my main thing… it's more of a hobby. I'm surprised you've seen it."
Suddenly he remembered why he remembered her. "For someone who claims to be a fan, your review of Heat Wave wasn't exactly positive."
"I praised your characterization of Nikki Heat," she reminded him.
"But you called Jameson Rook 'a two-dimensional stock character whose only clear ambition is to get in the detective's pants'."
"Good memory," she mumbled.
"Yeah, well, that review didn't exactly make my life easier. My mother quoted it to me six times a day for at least a week, and then my partner found it and things really got fun." He stopped himself before he got any further in his story, because he didn't want to think about Beckett right now. The purpose of this weekend was to remove himself from her, not to dwell on the past. "You are aware that I based the character of Rook on myself?"
She looked around awkwardly. "It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Castle." She left the mini mart quickly, leaving him shaking his head.
When his mother had shoved the column in his face shortly after Heat Wave was released, he'd imagined Rory Gilmore as some bitter fifty-year-old divorcee. Certainly not the polite young girl he'd just met. She reminded him a little of what he imagined his own daughter could be in a few years.
Giving up on the idea of coffee, he grabbed a Coke and a bag of chips and checked out. He filled his gas tank, but then when he was ready to leave, he found that his car wasn't. It refused to start, and the more times he turned the key, the angrier it seemed to become.
Finally he gave up and leaned into the steering wheel, well beyond frustrated. He was in the middle or pretty much nowhere, miles away from anyone he knew. What was he supposed to do?
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a light knocking on the window. When he looked up, he saw the same young girl from inside the store. He rolled down the window to see what she wanted.
"Car trouble?" she asked.
He rolled his eyes. "How did you guess?"
"Well, the sounds your engine was making didn't sound like any working car I'd ever heard. Need a ride?"
He frowned. A ride where? "I can't just leave my car here," he said.
She shrugged. "No one will bother it. Look, we're just a couple miles away from my town. You can call a tow truck and have them take it to Hughes Brothers in Stars Hollow. Gypsy will have it working again in no time."
"I thought you were from Providence?"
"Oh, no. I mean, I live there now, but only because it's where I work. I'm from Stars Hollow. Actually I was born in Hartford, but Stars Hollow is where I grew up. My mom still lives there, so I'm visiting for the weekend."
"I can't honestly say I've ever heard of Stars Hollow."
"I'm not surprised. It's a small town. But Gypsy knows what she's doing. I promise she'll take good care of your car. You'll be on the road again before you know it. In the meantime, I'll show you this place that has pretty good food and the best coffee you've ever tasted."
He eyed her skeptically. He wasn't in the habit of trusting reporters, especially ones who had portrayed his books less than favorably. "Why don't I just call a tow truck and have it take me to a repair shop in Hartford?"
She shrugged. "Hartford's at least a half hour's drive from here. Do you really want to ride all that way in a smelly tow truck?"
She did have a point. "I'd appreciate the ride if you don't mind waiting," he sighed. "I want to be here when they're putting her on the tow truck."
She raised an eyebrow. "The car's a girl?"
"Of course."
"Ah." She nodded as if she understood. "Okay, then."
"Are you sure that tow truck driver knew what he was doing?" he asked nervously as Rory drove him toward, he guessed, Stars Hollow.
"Oh no, I'm a hundred percent positive he didn't."
His eyes widened and he felt the color start to drain from his face. "You told me they'd take good care of her!"
"No, I said Gypsy would take good care of it. I didn't say anything about the towing process."
He knew there was nothing that he could do now, but he pouted. "Who is that guy, anyway?"
"His name's Kirk. He works for every business in town that'll let him, and a few that can't figure out how to make him leave. Including the only towing company around here. Even if you would've wanted to go to Hartford, he still would've been the driver. You can't avoid him. But trust me, the short distance is safer."
He nodded. He could see the wisdom in that. But if he'd had any doubt that he wasn't a small town kind of guy, it was now erased.
"Mr. Castle?" Rory asked after an uncomfortable minute of silence.
"Yep?"
"I'm sorry about that review. But it was a couple years ago now, and I know this isn't a good excuse, but I really didn't think I'd ever meet you."
He smiled. He was finding it more and more difficult to dislike this girl. "I'll tell you what," he said, "if the coffee at this place is as good as you say, we'll call it even."
"I promise you won't be disappointed."
The rural landscape began to transform, houses popping up more and more frequently until they came to a traffic light at the edge of what looked like a very small, very quaint little town. Rory took the car around a square lined with shops, past a pretty white gazebo and a sign that read "Stars Hollow, Founded 1779." It looked like a postcard, or maybe a scene from some cheesy, idealized family movie. It didn't look like the kind of place that should really exist.
"You really grew up here?" he found himself asking.
Rory laughed. "I know, it seems a little surreal at first. And in some ways it is, I guess." She shrugged. "But it's my town, and I love it."
She pulled up in front of an old but well-kept building with a sign out front that read "William's Hardware."
"We can grab a quick cup of coffee and then I'll take you to Gypsy's. Sound okay?"
He frowned and tried to take in his surroundings. "Coffee?" he asked. "Where?"
She looked confused. "Here."
He eyed the sign, wondering if he'd misread it. But he hadn't. "This is a hardware store."
"Oh." She smiled. "No it's not. Come on, you'll see."
She got out of her car, and, not seeing an alternative, he followed. "The sign says 'Hardware,'" he pointed out.
She nodded. "I know. It's an old sign." She pointed to another one, smaller but bright yellow, in the shape of a coffee cup with writing on it that said "Luke's." "This is the right one." She led him into what seemed to be a small restaurant. "It used to be a hardware store a long time ago, way before I was born. But after Luke's dad died, he turned it into a diner."
Castle turned the character in his mind. A man so grieved by the loss, or, even better, the murder, of his father that he left the "Hardware" sign on the front of his diner as a memorial for years, with no thought to how it might confuse away potential customers. He'd never aspired to anything more than flipping burgers and serving coffee, never so much considered taking up a life of fighting crime, until someone stole his prized French toast recipe. The small town's police force was over-worked and under-staffed, so he began his own type of justice system: observing the habits of his patrons, becoming so familiar with each and every one of his regular customers that he could sense trouble a mile away and put a stop to it before it came to pass.
Or maybe not. Maybe that was a tad ridiculous. But whether it was or it wasn't, there was something about this town that seemed to get his creative juices flowing. He was contractually obligated to finish the Nikki Heat novel that he was working on, but after that his contract would be up. The books were popular enough that he hadn't been worried about whether he'd be offered a deal to write more of them, but now for the first time it crossed his mind that he didn't have to accept. Maybe it was time that he took a break from Nikki, at least for awhile. It would give him reason to keep his distance from the Twelfth, and from Beckett. Beyond the reason that already existed, but that he wasn't admitting. That she knew how he felt about her, but clearly didn't return the feeling. That this knowledge made being around her harder than he liked. Harder than he was willing to deal with.
Maybe he'd stop here again on the way home from Boston. If Alexis didn't need him for anything, he could even stay for a few days. See if he couldn't get an idea for a new character. Maybe his next book would be set in a small Connecticut town. There was a lot he could do with that.
"Mr. Castle?" Rory's voice jarred him out of his trance.
He looked up and saw an impatient-looking man in a flannel shirt and a blue baseball cap, which he wore backwards, frowning at him, and wondered how long he'd been there. "Oh. Hi," he sputtered.
The man gave a disinterested nod of acknowledgement.
"Do you want anything to eat, or just the coffee?" Rory asked.
"Uh… I haven't even looked at the menu yet."
At this, the man let out a low growl.
"You like burgers?" Rory asked quickly.
Castle nodded. "That sounds great."
"Two burgers with fries and two coffees," she ordered. The man nodded and walked away.
"Who was that?" he asked in a voice near a whisper, still feeling a little uncomfortable even now that the man had gone.
Rory frowned. "Luke. My stepfather? It's his diner. I introduced you, but you were…"
He sighed. "Distracted. Sorry. No wonder he was looking at me like that."
She shrugged. "That's just Luke. Although I doubt that ignoring him earned you any points. But what do you care, right? You'll be out of here soon."
He nodded. "Right. As soon as I get my car fixed." He didn't mention his idea about stopping back on his way home. The town was certainly intriguing, but if he was going to observe it from an objective point of view, he'd need to do it a bit more… quietly.
A/N: I'm a self-admitted review addict. But I have no interest in seeking help. I'd rather just indulge the addiction. See the button down at the bottom of the page? Click it! Let me know what you thought! Pretty please?