Hey y'all. This is something I drew up in a little over an hour, so forgive the shitty quality.
"Murder. Mystery, the Macabre. What is it about…"
Rick had already tuned out his ex-wife. He was more concerned with the bared cleavage glaring at him, just asking to be grabbed. Sadly, they were in public, and the cute blonde in front of him looked nearly half his age. Divided by two plus seven gives.., he quickly thought to himself, then shook it off. He finished the strokes of his sharpie across her chest, then mumbled some flirty line. He heard his name, turned back towards the stage, and put on a smile he barely felt.
He really needed a drink.
The next hour was a blur of photos, glasses of champagne, forced smiles, more champagne, avoiding Gina, oh and had he mentioned champagne? The buzz was starting to dull the headache that had developed from the flashing of cameras and blaring of loud music.
He had just knocked back his fourth glass when a hand grabbed his elbow and pulled him close. He turned to see Gina, before facing the cameras and smiling. Had to keep up appearances.
"What kind of idiot kills of his best selling main character?" she asked, pulling his sunglasses away from his face. It was not so much the loss of the shades that caused him to hesitate, but the choice of what tone to take with the serpent whom he currently had his arm around.
"Are you asking as my blood sucking publisher, or as my blood sucking ex-wife?" he replied with a small smile. Despite their recent divorce, he could never really stop goading her. He kept hoping that it would return to how it was at the beginning, when she laughed at his puns and jokes instead of replying with venom. When exactly had their relationship turned into a mudslinging contest?
"Oh, so is that what you're doing? Punishing me by killing the Golden Goose?"
"Oh, come on. I may be petty and short sighted, but I'm not that petty and short sighted."
"Really? Then why?'" was her response as she turned away from the cameras and headed up a ramp towards the lounge. Against his better judgement, Rick followed her. He supposed he was going the same direction anyways: the bar was this way. And so were Alexis and his mother. But mostly the bar.
"Writing Derek used to be fun," he replied as Gina handed him his sunglasses over her shoulder, very nonchalantly. It was such a Gina mannerism. Do everything fluidly and easily. She was the type of person who never really had to struggle with anything. When times got hard, she usually just left. Or threatened to cancel his book contract. "Now it's like work."
"Hm. God forbid you should work. I mean you could have retired him. You could have crippled him. You could have had him join the freaking circus. But no, you had to put a bullet through his head." She spun towards him, ending her tirade with just a bit of the sexy drawl that had once made his skin tingle. Now he was forced to control the annoyance that welled up in his head.
Instead he just laughed. "Yeah. Real messy too. Big exit wound." Another pretty blonde came up behind him, and Rick was signing the book before she could even open her mouth. "Don't worry," he continued to Gina. "Derek Storm is not the Golden Goose here. I am. I wrote half a dozen best sellers before him, and what makes you think I'm gonna stop now?"
Another glass of champagne had appeared in his hand, and he gratefully lifted it to his mouth to take another sip.
"Oh, I don't know? The fact the new book was due nine weeks ago?"
"You can't rush genius."
"Genius Richard? Try blockage. I heard you haven't written in months."
She stepped closer, covering him in the scent of peaches, the odor of her favorite perfume. He flashed back to a similar memory of their first night together. The first Derek Storm book had just come out. She was a relative unknown in the world of publishing, just the one at the company who had vouched for his book. But she was going to ride him to the top.
Maybe ride him somewhere else too.
"Thats ridiculous." replied Castle, trying and failing to put on his best poker face.
"My sources are very reliable," she said with a particular head twist that annoyed Castle again.
He tried to steady himself. Regain control of the situation. "Well, they're wrong."
"They better be. If I don't have a new manuscript on my desk in the next three weeks, Black Pawn is prepared to demand the return of your advance."
Quickly, the last few month's purchases flashed through his head: several expensive bottles of alcohol, a new paint job for the Ferrari, even a couple acres of land on the moon. He most definitely wasn't getting that money back.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, just try me," she said, a seductive whisper creeping into her voice. At one point, it would have caused quite a stir in his pants and in his head. But now, he had to bite back the sudden urge to lash out at her.
But as she turned and walked away, he couldn't help but loose one last barb at her.
"You know I already returned that advance. I spent it divorcing you."
She gave a little snort, indicating he wasn't actually amused, then turned to leave. Castle was glad to see the back of her. Frowning, he raised the glass to his lips again, downing the whole thing in one go. He discarded the empty glass, then went in search of the bar.
What really bothered him was that she was right. He hadn't written in months. The ideas just weren't there. He had poured over old notes, spent thousands on a hands on jungle adventure in Colombia, even gotten high, all in search of inspiration. But nothing sparked.
The truth is, he was done. So done with the pressure, the deadlines. The constant critiques and questions. Done with the publishing company, who wanted 2 books a year. Or their vindictive lapdog Gina, set out to both woo and torture him. He was even done with the fame, the paparazzi, the fans. The constant 'Will you sign this?' or 'Take a picture with me!' The worst was when they thought they were an author themselves. 'Just read my manuscript,' they pleaded. Yeah, he thought. He was so done with that.
What he wouldn't give to be in bed right now, watching old Star Trek reruns or starting over on the Harry Potter Series. Or playing Monopoly with Alexis.
Man, if it weren't for Alexis…
He let that thought stay unfinished. There was a long way to go before he starting prodding at that particular door.
He finally found his mother and Alexis right next to the other object he had been searching for: the bar.
"Alright, give me a hit of the bubbly," Martha was saying.
"Make that two," said Rick, as he walked over.
"Hey, kiddo," greeted his mother. "Sales must be slipping. They're only serving the soft stuff."
It took every inch of self control he had to not reply caustically. Only his mother could be this mixture of unsupportive and self absorbed.
"Hey dad," said Alexis with a smile as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.
He responded with a "Hey sweetie" before looking for the bartender again. He had half a mind to order a whole bottle scotch. Recently, he had found that drinking heavily offered at least the possibility of something novel happening. Something to get himself out of his rut. The problem, he had also found, was remembering it the next morning.
"So, mother…" began Rick, leaning against the bar.
"Sh, sh, not so loud," she replied, looking around carefully. "I'm still looking to get lucky."
Before any unwanted images could pop into his head, he asked directly, "Did you tell Gina I was having trouble writing?"
She was a good actress, but immediately he knew she was going to lie. "Oh I told her nothing of the sort. I…" Rick glared at her. "I may have said something about spending your days, moping in your underwear, waiting for Post Time at Belmont, but hey. You're an artist, it's expected."
Exasperation surged through his veins. "We had a deal. I let you live with us, but you don't talk about my work."
"Well what's there to talk about." She had the attitude of someone making a funny joke, as if his career and relationship with his ex-wife were a laughing matter. "You haven't done any since I moved in."
"Gram!" putted Alexis, trying to come to her father's defence. He inwardly smiled. She did her best to look out for him.
"Well he hasn't!" Martha said, with almost a joyous laugh.
"Whatever I have and haven't done," Castle said, taking his mother's hands and looking her in the eye. "I would just appreciate it if you wouldn't share it with my ex-wife."
"Oh, what's the big deal?" she replied, clearly distracted by something behind him. "Hold on sweetie, I just got a hit on my graydar. BINGO no ring. Stand back kids, mama's going fishin."
For what seemed the fiftieth time that night, he had to repress a surge of irritation. "Should have me committed." he said to Alexis.
"For what? Letting her move in? I think it's sweet." That was Alexis, always looking bigger picture. And he was glad to have his mother around. She was a good lively influence on Alexis, opposed to the recently mopey and, alright he'd say it, depressed figure of her father.
"Won't be when I strangle her." was his terse reply as he grabbed the two glasses of champagne the bartender had so kindly gotten them. He took one and handed the other to Alexis.
"You know I'm only 15, right?" was her reply, ever the conservative.
"You're an old soul." he said, not looking at her. Besides, my mother used to put he to bed with a shot of whiskey, he thought to myself. Helped take care of me during her late night… liaisons.
"Well, me and my soul can wait." she said as she pushed the full glass back towards him. Well, more for me I suppose.
"When I was your age…" he began. "I can't tell that story. It's wildly inappropriate. Which oddly, is my point. Don't you want to have wildly inappropriate stories that you can't tell your children?"
"I think you have enough of those for the both of us."
Maybe that was his problem, he reflected. He had been so wild as a young adult that everything seemed so… dull now. Crazy rave? Done it. So drunk he woke up somewhere completely unknown with strangers? Done it. Gotten married illogically? Done it. Twice.
However he feared the opposite would be true for Alexis. She was so focused on school and college that she never really tried to live. What was going to happen when she went of to some university and had to be a real person, instead of the machine she had become?
"Life should be an adventure," Rick said. "You want to know why I killed Derek? There were no more surprises. I knew exactly what was going to happen every moment of every scene. It's just like these parties that become so predictable. 'I'm your biggest fan' 'Where do you get your ideas?'"
"And the ever popular 'Will you sign my chest?'"
Rick grabbed his glass again. "That one I don't mind so much." He took another large sip.
"Yeah, well FYI, I do," was Alexis' response.
Hell, he thought. It's like my daughter is my mother and my mother is my daughter.
"For just once, I'd like someone to come up to me and say something new."
This is what his problems essentially boiled down to. His life currently was a like a skipping record: repeating the same monotonous thing over and over again. He needed someone to come and flip the disc and reset the needle.
The first chapter of a book was always the hardest to write. Not because of the characters that had to be introduced, or the setting that had to be established. But rather making the reader care.
He felt like a reader of the book of his own life. The previous book had ended, quite literally. What would come next? Would it be any good? Would he even care?
"Mr. Castle?" a female voice called from behind him.
Right on cue, he thought. Just what I need, another fangirl. Maybe at least I can take this one home.
"Where would you like it?" replied Rick as he whirled and flashed his pen.
The woman in front of him was definitely hot, if a little out of place in her button up and slacks. Maybe she didn't get the memo on short dresses. He was plotting his pickup line when she held up her hand and it flashed gold.
"Detective Kate Beckett," was her introduction. "NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."
He couldn't help the slack jawed expression that took over his face. Luckily, Alexis came to his rescue, reaching over and plucking the pen out of his hand.
"That's new."
Hope you guys enjoyed it!
Thanks to everyone that's reviewed and/or PM'ed me. I enjoy hearing from you, even if it's just talking about your favorite books or Castle moments. Plus, it's always nice when I get positive feedback (even though I can't quite imagine why you guys like this shit).
Anyways, thanks a lot, have a great week!