Semi-crossover; hope it still counts.
Prompt: C & B meet at a wedding AU
The ceremony was one of the most beautiful Kate had ever seen. Both brides looked absolutely gorgeous in their gowns—one simple and short with an understated veil and one designer with a tight bodice, a princess skirt and a train that trailed behind her, a shiny silver tiara set in her blonde curls—and there was not a dry eye in the house.
That included Kate and her 'date', Dr. Lanie Parish, who blew her nose quite loudly as the brides shared their first kiss as a married couple, much to Kate's amusement. Lanie glared at her.
"Don't you laugh at me, Kate Beckett," she hissed, nudging her best friend. "It's your fault I'm weeping in the first place."
"How is it my fault?" Kate hissed back, laughing.
"You're the one that invited me here in the first place, aren't you?" Lanie pointed out. "Ergo your fault."
"Your logic is seriously flawed," Kate snorted, clapping as the happy couple walked down the aisle, waving as her friend caught her eye and blowing a kiss. Jane caught it with a grin and pulled her new wife against her body, pressing a kiss to the crown of Maura's head as they made their way to the exit.
"Whatever," Lanie said, bringing her attention back. "Where's the reception now?"
"Not much of a reception," Kate said, leading her friend out of the chapel. "Just an open bar and wedding cake at some bar downtown; Jane gave me the address."
"I still cannot believe you got invited to your ex-girlfriend's wedding," Lanie commented, linking their arms together.
"She is not my ex-girlfriend," Kate groaned. "We just had…a thing—a couple of things, actually—but it was only ever just sex; nothing more ever came of it."
"Mmhmm," Lanie replied, unbelievingly. "Whatever you say…"
Kate rolled her eyes, leading her shorter friend towards their rental car as she tried to shake off her words.
She and Jane never really had more than a few lonely nights together, when they both craved human companionship and found each other. To be honest, she barely knew anything about Jane, other than her choice of lingerie and that she was Homicide Detective for the city of Boston—just like Kate was a detective for the city of New York. There was really nothing more to their relationship but murder and sex. And now it was just murder.
XXX
"I'm so happy you could make it!" Maura practically gushed, wrapping her arms around the much taller man in front of her. Richard Castle boomed out a laugh, squeezing her tightly and nearly lifting her off of her feet.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied, beaming down at her. "You make the most beautiful bride." The younger woman blushed bright pink and he laughed, turning to her wife. "You're a very lucky woman, Miss—er, Mrs. Rizzoli-Isles."
The curly-headed brunette gave him a dimpled grin, before turning her eyes on her bride. "Yeah," she said, lacing her fingers with the blonde's, "I am." Castle smiled between the two of them, feeling slightly jealous.
He'd never been that happy, with either of his brides. The first time, it had been a shotgun wedding, with a four-month pregnant, moody redhead who would have rather been partying with a bunch of frat guys than promising him her everlasting love—which, in reality, only lasted about three years; probably less. The second time, the wedding had been rushed and small; family only. And his and Gina's love was based more on pure in-the-moment passion than true love, anyway. It had quickly died out, though the second marriage had last nearly twice as long as the first.
But that left him here now, alone at one of his oldest friends' wedding because his daughter had been unwilling to skip an important Calculus test—as she should be; he would not allow her to fail in her studies any more than she would allow herself to—and he'd been unwilling to pick from the hoard of women who usually followed—stalked—him around Manhattan.
And to make matters worse, he'd nearly missed the ceremony, having to stand in the back and watch as the two brides exchanged vows that he'd taken himself, twice.
He wasn't bitter, though; just…melancholy? No; that implied sadness and he was not sad, not about this. Really, it was all just about being lonely.
Maura Isles had been his friend since their twenties, when he'd asked her to help him with research on one of his novels, Desire to Kill, and listened to her describe all the ways one might conceivably commit the perfect murder—from an M.E's point of view, anyway. They'd instantly connected—not sexually, but intellectually, though Maura Dorothea Isles was far smarter than him—and stayed in touch all these years later.
And now she had Jane and he…he needed a drink.
Wandering over to the bar, Castle ordered a gin and tonic, waiting patiently for the bartender to pour it out before saluting him and dropping a twenty into the fish bowl on the bar top.
"That's generous," a voice next to him said and he turned, coming face to face with a pair of the most beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen.
XXX
"Don't freak out," Lanie said, clutching her hand even tighter as they walked into the bar, "but ain't that that writer that you like?"
"Which one?" Kate asked, looking in the same direction, her eyes falling on a pair of broad shoulders encased in a dark gray suit jacket. The man turned slightly, looking towards the happy couple, who were practically being suffocated by Jane's mother and brothers, and gasped.
Richard. Freaking. Castle.
Richard Castle was at this freaking party! But how-? What—? Who-?
"Well?" Lanie asked. "Is that him? Is that Dick Castle?"
Kate rolled her eyes. "It's Rick," she corrected.
"Same difference," Lanie brushed off. "Is that him?"
Kate nodded, dumbly, gnawing on her bottom lip. The closest she'd ever been to Rick Castle had been at one of his book signings, when there was nothing but a table and a stack of books between them. He'd given her this amazing, charming, dimpled grin and she'd practically melted at his feet, unable to say much more than 'Hi' and 'Thank you'. And now, here he was again and the only barrier between them was about half a dozen buzzed and boisterous party guests. Barriers she could easily weave her way around.
"So what are you waiting for, then?" Lanie asked. "Go! Talk to him! Maybe you'll get lucky." Kate rolled her eyes, tossing a glare at her friend. "What?" Lanie cackled. "It's a wedding! I'm looking to get a lucky myself, if you know what I mean." The shorter woman winked at her, before making her way towards a tall, dark-skinned man who looked about ten years their junior.
Kate rolled her eyes again, before turning back in Richard Castle's direction, taking a deep breath to compose herself as she sauntered towards the bar, gathering confidence with every single step.
She arrived just in time to see him toss a twenty into the bartender's tip jar, as if it were just another regular dollar bill—just chump change. She smirked at that, leaning against the bar next to him, not that he noticed.
"That's generous," she said, immediately gaining his attention as he turned that beautiful, blue-eyed gaze on her. She could practically feel the world dissolve away as their eyes connected, a current of electricity running up her spine, sparking between them, making her face flush and her heart swell in her chest as he gave her that disarming grin.
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked, smiling down at her. Kate lifted one brow, ignoring the flare of excitement in her chest at the offer.
"I don't even know your name," she lied, poker face in place.
"Richard Castle," he introduced, offering his hand; "Writer."
Kate smiled, raising her own hand to shake his. "Katherine Beckett," she replied; "NYPD."
His eyebrows rose and his grin widened. "One of New York's finest, I see," he commented, his eyes raking over her body, making her shiver in delight as his eyes burned a path over her body.
"I guess you could say that," Kate flirted, biting her lip. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mister Castle."
Castle's grin became cocky and Kate had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.
"So," he said, "about that drink…"
Another one to put on the backburner for a possible full-length.
And this, my dear friends, marks the end of our journey together—maybe. I still haven't decided if I'm going to fill another prompt or two, despite this one marking the completion of my 75,000 word goal. I might, though; stay tuned.
Oh, and please REVIEW!