Shawn considered taking Castle to meet a random old person somewhere in the city. Even if that person denied knowing Shawn, it would be a better situation then actually having his dad talk to Castle. Henry Spencer hated mystery novels just as much as he hated comic books. He hated the way they trivialized police procedures and romanticized criminals. Shawn glanced in the back seat where Castle was writing furiously in his notebook.
"What's your dad's name again?" Castle asked, looking up at Shawn.
"Talmadge MacGulager," Shawn replied automatically.
"Henry," Gus corrected, rolling his eyes.
Castle nodded, writing it down as they pulled into the driveway at Henry's house. "Is this where you grew up?" He looked around the beach front.
"Yup," Shawn mumbled and trudged slowly to the door.
The door swung open before Shawn could knock, ring the doorbell, or barge in without announcing himself at all. Henry Spencer gave his son a very confused and concerned look.
"This had better not have anything to do with puppies, women, or police evidence," he started to lecture Shawn.
"What if it was about women dressed as puppies posing as cops?" Shawn countered.
Henry ignored his son's comment as he noticed Castle standing on his porch. "Oh no, Shawn; this is not going to be another 'let's hide the suspect or victim at my dad's house because then Lassiter won't find him' situation."
Shawn caught the look on Castle's face and quickly cut off any reply from the writer. "Please, Dad, I can't just bring someone over to your house unless he's in trouble?"
"The only person you bring over who isn't in trouble is Gus, and even that is debatable." Henry stepped aside to let them in. "So unless this guy is a friend of yours, something is up."
"I wouldn't really call him a friend," Shawn started to say.
Castle looked a little hurt at that statement, but held out his hand the Henry . "My name is Richard Castle. I'm doing research on your son for my next mystery novel." He obviously expected Henry to be impressed with any or all of that statement.
Henry rolled his eyes and glared at his son. "A mystery writer? Shawn, that's no better than bringing me a suspect!" He turned on Castle. "Do you have any idea how many problems people like you cause for cops? You write about a killer, and all of a sudden sixteen cities around the country are faced with copycats. You think it's nothing, just a plot in a book, but you write some of the sickest ways to kill people. Half the people that write mystery novels should be committed into psych wards before they end up killing someone for real."
Castle looked taken aback by the lecture he'd gotten. Gus looked ready to tear up at any minute.
"Dad," Shawn interrupted, "can I talk to you privately?" He pulled his dad into the living room.
"Wasn't expecting that," Castle murmured to Gus as the two Spencers headed for the next room.
Gus gave him an apologetic look and sniffled a little before trying regain his composure.
Henry let himself be half-dragged into the living room. "A novel, Shawn?" He started lecturing his son before Shawn could explain anything.
"Dad, it's something the department wanted. Apparently the sales from the book go towards children's cancer research. I don't know exactly, but he gets to follow me around for a week doing research." Shawn shrugged. "Gus knows better than me; why don't you go all Spanish Inquisition on him?"
Henry sighed and crossed his arms. "Just make sure he's on board for this psychic charade you insist on using."
"He's sold, hook, line and sinker." Shawn assured his dad. He winced. "I can't believe I just used a fishing metaphor."
Rolling his eyes, Henry shook his head. "Fine. Why is he at my house?"
"Ricky needs to do research on my childhood," Shawn replied.
"And I wanted to explore the possibility of having a father-son team as my main characters," Castle added, strolling into the room.
Gus followed, looking a little more hesitant.
Henry raised an eyebrow. "A father-son team?" He looked to Shawn.
Castle nodded. "I mean, you're a retired cop, and my character is a cop, but he could have a retired cop father."
Henry was still looking at Shawn. "I think that sounds like a great idea," he said pointedly.
"Wait, what happened to 'mystery novels are cop mockers and bringers of doom'?" Shawn objected.
Gus punched his best friend in the arm. "I think it's a great idea, too."
"Dude," Shawn looked offended, "seriously? You love being a freelancing psychic duo."
"Rick isn't going to make you a cop, just his character," Gus clarified. "And I think that adding a father to the story will offer a lot more room for character development. Plus it's something his other characters don't have." He glanced over at Castle.
"Exactly," Castle said, noticing the obvious objection Shawn had towards the father-son dynamic. He opened his mouth to say something again, but the ringing of his cell phone cut him off. He looked at the caller ID and his face lit up. "Excuse me, I need to take this." He headed for the porch, answering his phone as he went. "Castle."
Henry turned to Shawn as soon as he heard the door close behind the writer. "So I hear you two are on a new case now?"
Shawn nodded. "They found a body in the beluga whale tank at the aquarium this morning."
"The news said it was an investor," Henry prompted.
"Yeah, he donated a bunch of money to the aquarium over the past years, and this year he wasn't going to be able to."
"They might cancel Peter Penguin," Gus added.
"They would also have less money, Gus." Shawn pointed out.
Henry shook his head. "Shawn, don't get caught up in the money. Sometimes the answer is closer to home than you think."
Outside, Castle was catching up on the station gossip from the past few days. "How's the station? Has Beckett been missing me?"
Esposito and Ryan laughed on the other end of the line. "Bro, she's been back to her old self. Although," Castle could hear the mirth in their voices, "she's been wanting cappuccinos more than usual."
"And that motorcycle guy's been hanging around a lot lately," Ryan put in.
"Yeah ... Come to think of it, she's even left early a couple of times," Esposito informed him. Castle could almost see him raising his eyebrow at Ryan.
"How early is early?" Castle asked, preparing for the worst. Then he heard the small throaty laugh of someone losing control of a straight face. "Seriously guys?"
"Beckett would never leave work early," Ryan chided him. "I can't believe you fell for that. She's fine, we're solving cases, and you'll be back in a couple of days."
"Or four days, if you want me to be ten dollars richer," Esposito added.
"Just call me if anything real happens, since Beckett is probably going to win that bet." Castle grumbled and hung up the phone. He headed back into the house and found Shawn and Gus sitting at the kitchen table, each with a plate of waffles.
"What? I still didn't get any breakfast," Shawn defended himself as Castle quirked an eyebrow at him.