*Important A/N* If you follow me on Twitter or Tumblr, you'll know this has been a bit of a rough week for me re: this fic. Despite the drama, I have decided to continue posting this story with no alternations in schedule or content, but I'd like to say this:

As a perfectionist, it's upsetting to me to think that I've written something that a large portion of people find to be of poor quality or substance. I have high standards for myself and I always want to produce works that people enjoy. Despite this, I realize you can't win 'em all, so to speak, and some of you are not going to like this story no matter what I do and that's okay, because other's do like it. I stand by what I wrote and how I wrote it because I believe it to be a good mashup of both Castle & the movie. If you disagree, that's perfectly alright; you're welcome to stop reading at any time.

Also, for at least the time being I will continue to moderate guest reviews to weed out any that are particularly mean spirited or off topic. Thanks!

Chapter Five

JFC! She's engaged to a Brit professor was the text Castle sent Javier and Kevin on his way home Friday evening. Naturally, they responded with confusion and, later, shock. None of them could believe that Kate, the woman they had known for the duration of their adult lives, would jump into a marriage so quickly, yet that did not make the situation any less real.

Friday night, Castle didn't sleep; he lay awake cursing himself and the decisions he'd made. Why hadn't he just emailed Kate two weeks earlier and confessed his intentions. True, she would have already been with William in some capacity, but they wouldn't have been engaged. She would have known how he felt and they could have been together then instead of him being alone, tossing and turning over the mattress.

By four a.m. he had a renewed sense of determination. He was down, but definitely not out. Whatever Kate had—or thought she had—with William was new, fresh, and exciting. That much was clear, but once she was back in Manhattan—back in the real world—she would come to her senses. William was simply not right for her. She got caught up in a moment—the fantasy and intrigue of a foreign land—and he couldn't blame her for that, but he was convinced reality would bring her back to him.

With that fire of determination burning in his chest (and what felt like half a gallon of caffeine-filled liquids) Castle busied himself preparing for the party. This was his home turf; he had the advantage over the preppy, well-accented professor. He knew Kate better than William ever hoped to, which was exactly why he was going to throw her the best damn engagement party she'd ever seen.

By quarter after four that afternoon the guests began arriving. Castle's email invitation had stated the party would be from four to seven, with cocktails and refreshments being served. Both were, of course, provided by his usual caterer.

When Javier and Kevin arrived they found the host immediately and expressed their shock, but more so their concern for their friend's wellbeing. "I might not have thought this was the best idea you had, but this does completely suck for you, bro," Javier told him.

Castle shook off the comment, refusing to admit defeat. "I just don't get what she sees in this guy. He's just so…British."

Javier shrugged. "Yeah, but chicks dig that shit."

"But this is Kate we're talking about," Kevin rationalized. "She'd hardly go crazy over someone just for their accent."

"And yet—ah, here's the happy couple now," Castle said, his tone positively oozing sarcasm. He spotted them walking through the door: Kate dressed in an emerald green cap sleeve top with jeans and black kitten heels, her arm linked through that of her betrothed. William dressed in a navy blazer, white button-down and khaki trousers; his blonde hair was parted on the right and gelled to either side.

"And here we go," Castle muttered under his breath before crossing the room and plastering a smile across his face to greet the guests of honor. "Kate! William! Welcome to my humble abode."

William scanned the expansive loft and then back at its owner. "I'm not sure I would call this humble."

"Yeah, well neither is its owner," Kate said pointedly. Then, she stepped in and gave him a one-armed hug.

After hugging Kate, Castle signaled for Javier to turn down the music. After he'd done so, Castle stood by the entryway and commanded the attention of his guests. "Everyone! Everyone! If I could just have a quick moment of your time, I just want to thank you all for coming. As you know, this party was originally meant to welcome Kate back to the city, and of course we're all happy that she's here, but now, unexpectedly, it has a secondary purpose. So, if you'll join me in raising your glasses in a toast to Kate Beckett and her new fiancé William Fitzgerald. To William and Kate!"

While Kate looked perturbed, William appeared positively mortified as a gasp followed by reluctant clapping filled the room.

A moment later, once the music was back on, Kevin stepped up beside Castle and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey—William and Kate. That's funny; they're like that royal couple."

Castle shot his friend and unappreciative expression. Kevin shrank back and hurried off to find his wife.

After he checked on the food and liquor supply, Castle continued to make his rounds through the party. On his way past the office, he spotted Kate's father standing off to the side sipping on a can of diet coke. He made his way over to greet the one other partygoer who might feel as shell-shocked as he.

Eight years later, Castle vividly remembered the first evening he met Jim Beckett. Very shortly after Kate graduated with her bachelors, she and two other grad students had moved into their own positively microscopic apartment. At the time, Castle had been trying to woo one of the roommates to date—okay, sleep with—him. He'd gone over to their place in search of her, but instead found a frustrated-to-the-point-of-tears Kate and her father passed out on the floor just inside her apartment.

Up until that point, Castle knew very little about Kate's family life other than the basics: she was an only child and her mother had passed away years earlier. He knew her father, a law professor, lived in the city, but he did not have a sense of their relationship other than it was somewhere in the middle between "best friends" and "not part of each other's lives."

That night Castle learned that Jim had taken his wife's death hard and turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism. For a while he hid his disease well, but it had become significantly worse in the recent months, which was why he ended up passed out on the floor of his daughter's apartment. Castle had hauled the man to the couch and sat with Kate until he'd sobered up enough for them to get him in a cab and return him to his own apartment.

In the years since that event, Jim had gone to rehab returned to his profession as a professor. As far as Castle knew, his relationship with his daughter was a good one. He and Castle had a decent rapport as well; Jim made at least one or two visits to Castle's beach house each summer, and they attended Mets' games as a group as well.

"Jim," Castle, said extending his hand.

"Rick. Thanks for doing this for Katie." Jim replied, shaking the larger man's hand.

Castle shook his head. "My pleasure, really. So, ah, what do you make of this?" he asked, gesturing with his beer towards the couple of the hour.

Jim let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. "Honestly? I'm…stunned."

"Join the club," Castle muttered into the mouth of his beer bottle. "Did you know about him? Before yesterday, I mean."

Jim bobbed his head. "She said she met someone named William who worked at the university and he was helping her out but I had no real evidence they were dating let alone…"

"Right, right."

"We had lunch earlier. Seems like a good man, very gentlemanly. Very…stoic."

"Very boring," Castle concluded. Jim gave the writer a fatherly stare, but eventually nodded his head in agreement.

Almost twenty minutes passed before Castle made his way back to Kate. She was chatting with one of her former roommates—one he hadn't slept with, so he felt it was safe to approach.

"…Oh my gosh, this is just so exciting!" The roommate, Casey, gushed. "You have a wedding to plan! Ooh! I'm jealous! Have you given any thought as to who your maid of honor will be? That's an important decision, you know!" The girl winked at Kate.

Kate laughed and glanced up at her fiancé. "Um, I…I dunno. I hadn't thought about it too much but…I guess Castle makes the most sense."

At the mention of his name, Castle nearly choked. "Wh-what?!"

Kate shrugged and looked at him. "Well…women usually pick their best friend as their maid of honor, and you're kind of mine. At least, you're the friend that's known me the longest."

"I, ah…I…" Castle stammered, having no idea what to say.

Casey, clearly singed, snipped, "Well he wouldn't look very good in a dress."

Kate laughed at the preposterous mental image. "No, he wouldn't. What do you say Castle? I won't make you wear a dress, I promise."

"Oh, ah, sure! Sure why not!" he said. As far as he was concerned there was never going to be a wedding anyway, so what did it hurt to agree to something he'd never have to do?

By six thirty that evening, the partygoers had begun to dissipate, moving on to dinner or other plans for the evening. Castle said goodbye to each guest as they departed which actually turned out to be a welcome distraction from his conversation with William. For Kate's sake he was trying to play nice, trying to get to know the man. After all, there was clearly something in him she found significantly attractive or she wouldn't have started dating him let alone agreed to marry him. Despite twenty minutes of conversation, Castle had yet to find that something.

Simply put: William was extraordinarily dull. Not that this was shocking, given his chosen career as an archeology professor. During their conversation, Castle realized William wasn't even into anything cool like dinosaurs or cursed mummy temples. No, his field of study was something about homes or cultures—Castle wasn't sure; it was all he could do not to fall asleep during their conversation. Not only was the subject matter dry, but William's voice lacked color and inflection which, given his career as a storyteller, Castle found appalling.

Finally, a few minutes before seven, Kate approached and skimmed her hand down her fiancé's arm. She smiled up at him and then turned to Castle. "Thank you so much for this—really. It was…unexpected, but very nice."

"Anything for you, Kate." Castle smiled at her. "We still on for brunch tomorrow?"

Despite being tired, Kate's expression brightened at this concept; she had nearly forgotten the following day was Sunday. "Ruby's?" she questioned. He bobbed his head. "I wouldn't miss it."

They finished their goodbyes before Castle walked over to Javier, Kevin and Jenny, who were doing their part to clean up since the caterers had left. Castle thanked them for their efforts and went to the kitchen to grab more garbage bags. The boys followed him.

"Saw you talking to William. Glad to see you didn't punch him." Javier commented.

"Considered it, but it wouldn't have been sporting of me; he's so boring it wouldn't have been any fun. Not even sure if he would have noticed—probably would have just kept talking about his latest paper." Castle scoffed.

"So he's a fun and exciting guy, huh?" Kevin asked, though he was obviously kidding.

Castle rolled his eyes. He didn't even know where to begin. Well, actually, he did. "He goes by William—William! He doesn't even have a nickname! He doesn't like nicknames! Who does that?"

Kevin shrugged. "Your mother calls you Richard."

Castle looked at him pointedly. "Yes, but that's my mother. None of you guys would ever call me Richard."

Kevin shrugged, agreeing to this point. "So what are you going to do?"

Castle thought for a moment. He'd been debating that point for quite some time, yet kept coming back to the same conclusion. After his titillating conversation with Kate's fiancé, in his mind there was only one solution. "I'm going to have to break them up."

Javier grinned and clapped his friend on the back. "That's my boy!"

Kevin balked immediately. "What? Javi I thought you didn't want Castle dating Kate?"

"No," he corrected, "I don't want Castle dating anyone, but better the enemy we know than a new nemesis."

To this, Kevin rolled his eyes. Then, turning to the writer, he said, "Castle, think about this."

"I am thinking about this. What's the best way to do it? This is Kate, here. I can't just come out and tell her to dump him—she'll rebel and do the opposite." In the decade he'd known her, Castle knew one thing for certain about his best friend: she could be stubborn as hell. If her mind was set on something, it was extremely difficult to change it. Changing it caused her stubborn streak to kick in, which made her want to do it all the more—just for spite.

In debate situations, she was receptive to rebuttals assuming cold, hard factual evidence was presented. When evidence contradicting her statements was provided, she did back down and concede her point. However, matters of the heart were hardly fact based situations. Changing Kate's mind would take finesse and, dare he think it, no small amount of manipulation.

"Hang on," Kevin said, "what if she's happy with him? Did you ever think of that?"

Castle laughed at that preposterous notion. "Please? Did you meet the guy?"

"He's a douche bag," Javier said.

"Total douche bag," Castle echoed.

Kevin shook his head slowly at the coconspirators. "For the record: I think this is a terrible idea."

"Actually it's perfect. And, as long as I'm her maid of honor, it will be much easier for-"

"Wait," Javier interrupted. "You're her WHAT?!"

Castle held up his hand. "Long story—but it gives me a total pass to be all up close and nosy about the impending wedding, right? And what better way to destroy it from the inside out. See: perfect!"

"Whatever you say, Castle," Kevin said, his tone indicating extreme skepticism. "Whatever you say."