A/N: hey y'all! this is my first time writing caskett, after years of watching and rewatching castle and reading so many amazing fics from the community. i hope you enjoy this college AU fic and appreciate any and all feedback. anything you recognize is not my own (wish it was), except mistakes; those are on me.
Late September, New York University
It was only a few weeks into the semester and Kate felt like she already had a nemesis. Maybe nemesis was a bit harsh, but there was no denying that he drove her absolutely crazy.
At first, she could have excused it as a bit of poor planning or bad luck, but when he walked into lecture late every morning for two weeks straight, she knew what it really was—carelessness. It shouldn't bother her so much, but each time he strolled on in fashionably late, he'd slide into a seat directly in front of or behind her. On days he felt like being even more of a nuisance, he'd even squeeze past her and slump down into the seat next to her. In a hall with over a hundred other students, Kate knew it was no coincidence. There was no way he just so happened to gravitate toward her orbit. She even sat in different spots in the lecture hall to test her theory and without fail, he'd toss his backpack down nearby and kick his legs up like he was in a recliner about to watch a movie. It was a huge distraction that Kate could never seem to avoid, and that was just the beginning of class.
After showing up five or ten minutes late, he'd never pull out a notebook or laptop to take notes but he always had something to say. He'd ask questions, loads of them, and answer the ones the professor posed for the class, too. In this criminal theory course, they were supposed to be learning about things like police procedure, crime scene investigation, and interrogation techniques, but he was always asking the most outlandish things or spouting crazy hypotheticals. It was like he was living in another world detached from reality, and it was turning Kate's reality into a nightmare.
"He's just awful, Lanie!" Kate exclaimed one evening as she joined her best friend at their regular table with their regular trays for their regular dinner. "I was really looking forward to this class, but he's honestly ruining it for me." Kate wasn't one to pout, Lanie knew that, but her best friend could sometimes be a bit up tight.
"C'mon Kate, I know guys like that are obnoxious, but if you really like the class, you can't let him get to you," Lanie says. "There's no shortage of annoying know-it-alls in my biology classes, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to be a doctor."
"You're right," Kate sighs. "There's just something about this guy that gets under my skin, I don't know why."
"Maybe it's because you are the annoying know-it-all in this case," Lanie states with her signature sassy grin.
Kate forks her Caesar salad into her mouth with a scoff. "Am not!"
"Just saying, Kate, maybe you could get to know him, have a little fun with this guy. Lord knows a little fun would do you some good," Lanie laughs.
Kate rolls her eyes but she knows Lanie has a point. She'd been so hyper focused on school work lately, she kind of forgot that going out and having fun was supposed to be part of the college experience, too.
"I'll give it to you that I need to get out more," Kate acknowledges, "but there is absolutely no way I'm having fun with him."
He woke with a start, frantically grabbing for his phone. Shit, not again, he thought as he looked at the time. He had snoozed his alarm, or so he thought, only to wake up an hour later in a cold sweat as he is once again realizing he's going to be late.
Why was he like this? He rolled out of bed and grabbed the closest pair of pants and T-shirt he could find. He shuffled his laptop into his backpack, slid his shoes on and headed for the door with a yawn. Coffee. He needed coffee, but there was no time. He sighed at the dilemma, looking down at his watch. He was going to be late regardless, so a quick shot of espresso couldn't hurt. He sets down his backpack and heads for the kitchen. After properly fueling with the espresso shot and dry cereal straight from the box, he heads for the train.
It's a short ride to campus, which is good because otherwise he'd never make it to class. As he stared out the window at the bustling city, he once again mentally wrestled with is situation. He had to change his ways, get on a healthy schedule. He knew that, but it was a bigger adjustment than he'd thought it would be. So most days, he takes it, handles the small embarrassment of showing up late almost every day. Better late than never, he'd told himself, but he hated the impression he was making, on his Professor, and on her. He felt her glares at the back of his head, the rouge in her cheeks as he strolled in well past an acceptable time. He was going to get better at this.
It was 9:43 when he slid past the doors of the lecture hall. He scanned the room for her familiar chestnut hair. She was testing him, he knew, as she was in yet another new spot for the third time this week. Closer to the back this time, which was good. As he approached, he noticed an unusual break from the typical lecture routine, as students were chatting with each other in small groups. Most of them, anyway. She seemed quite content to sit with her own thoughts at the quiet end of the aisle. He took advantage of the lull and swiftly snuck next to her.
"Excuse me," he says in his kindest tone. Kate rolls her eyes as she temporarily puts her desk down so he can slide in next to her. "What're we discussing?"
"We are not discussing anything," Kate grumbles harshly. He sighs dramatically as he settles into his seat. Looking up at the projection screen, he recognized the case that was presented in last night's reading.
"Are we talking about the murder victim from the reading?" He asks.
"You did the reading? Shocking," Kate whispers under her breath.
"Hey, I get the feeling you don't like me very much," he chuckles.
"And I get the feeling you don't know this class starts at 9:30," Kate shoots back.
"Ouch," he sighs. After a few moments of silence, he pipes up again. "So you really don't want to talk about this case with anyone? Keeping all your good ideas to yourself? Seems a bit unfair."
"Unfair? You know what's unfair? How my favorite class gets rudely interrupted by a man too inconsiderate to show up on time and whose even more inconsiderate to not just find a seat in the back row but instead decides to stalk me when there are a hundred other people in this room that he could—"
Kate's mini rampage is cut off as the professor begins to speak again. "Alright, who would like to share why the girlfriend killed our victim in last night's reading?"
A few hands slowly shoot up as Kate's nemesis leans back in his seat and casually raises his as well. Kate turns her head and scoffs.
"Yes," the professor points in his direction. He crosses his arms and simply states: "she didn't." That elicits whispers from the other students in the hall, Kate can't help but raise her brow in intrigue.
The professor chuckles, "Do you have any evidence to support that conclusion?"
"It's never the girlfriend," he responds matter of factly. "It's Mystery Novel 101."
"Yes, but this is Legal Studies 370," the Professor retorts, laughing breaking out across the lecture hall.
"The cause of death," Kate speaks up over the chatter, silence quickly returns.
"Can you elaborate on that?" asks the professor.
"The victim, Chris, was hit in the back of the head from a downward trajectory, indicating that the killer is likely taller. It also only took the single blow, so they were also quite strong," Kate replies.
"Yeah, the girlfriend, Kayla, she was only 5'2". The victim was 6'0". Unless she was a bodybuilder with a ladder, she's not the killer," he cuts in.
The other students chuckle again.
"However, the reading also mentioned a statement from the victim's childhood friend, Matt, that seemed to contradict other parts of the case," Kate mentions.
"How so?" asks the professor.
"Well, Matt said that the victim and his girlfriend were extremely happy together, said he thought they'd get engaged," he says.
"Yeah, but we know that wasn't true. Chris and Kayla were fighting a lot and he'd even sent her to the emergency room just a week before Chris was killed. There's no way Matt didn't know something was wrong, and to not mention it in the statement is suspicious," Kate says.
"Right, because it was Matt who took Kayla to the hospital that night. He was her friend, too. They all went to school together growing up," he adds on.
Kate smiles briefly, but doesn't want to let on that she's enjoying herself before sharing the final detail. "Matt is also 6' 4" and 225 pounds with a—quote "football player physique"—he's likely the real killer."
"Great detective work," the professor admits. "But you forgot one detail."
"The friend had an alibi," he says. "But if I remember correctly, it was that he was drinking alone at Joe's."
"The bartender said he saw Matt there, but the bartender also worked a second job at a diner, the same one Kayla worked at," Kate says. "She probably asked her coworker to lie and say he saw him."
"And why would she do that? That made her the primary person of interest," the professor points out.
"Because Matt didn't initially intend to kill Chris, just confront him about abusing Kayla. Things escalated, maybe Chris pushes Matt, Matt pushes back, and before he knows it, he's reaching for the baseball bat Chris kept in his apartment, and wham, Chris is dead. Kayla knew that Matt went there to defend her. She didn't want him to go to prison for killing the guy that was abusing her. It all fits," he glances at Kate as he says the last sentence, a devilish grin on his face as he notices her teeth softly grabbing her lower lip, trying so hard to hide her excitement, but her rosy cheeks gave her away.
"Excellent, excellent," the Professor says, clapping briefly. "You two did a great job looking at the evidence and recognizing that what was on paper isn't set in stone. We'll continue to work on exercises like this leading up to the midterm in two weeks."
From there, the Professor returned to the typical lecture. Kate tries to snap back into note taking mode, but his soft blue eyes are transfixed, mesmerized. He couldn't look away from her if he wanted to. At 10:45, the lecture comes to an end and Kate begins packing up her notebook.
"I'm Rick, by the way," he says before she gets up. "Rick Ca-Rodgers. Rick Rodgers."