Hey guys, thanks for those of you who have favorited the story and followed it. It means a lot to me.
I'm not sure how often I'll update, maybe once a week, sometimes more. I posted this one because it was already done and I'm really excited.
This is the first chapter, happy reading for you! xoxos
lehh.
Rick presses his lips together, and he probes her from afar.
After some time, everything is half-expected. It's hard to be surprised. But she did it. It's similar to a stray bullet, like a gunshot, you can't see it coming. It's ridiculous how appropriately it fit her, in her mind. Making allusions easily is part of the job, but comparing women to stray bullets wouldn't do his reputation any favors.
He's quite used to women approaching him at every opportunity, to people wanting or expecting something directly, but for some reason, it sounds different this time.
This woman, Katherine Beckett, is not after him. She hadn't come to greet him because she wanted him to sign her chest, or because she was hoping for a chance to have something carnal, or emotional. Not even a spoiler of what he was writing. She just wanted to know about Derrick Storm.
Being who he is, Rick is aware of how fictional characters can have a huge impact on his personal life, how they can provide motivation, joy, fury, various feelings, but mostly distraction. The fact that she wanted an answer about her character made him want to know what specific emotion Derrick provided her with. That's why the idea of dinner or drink together flowed so freely off his tongue before Ginny came to get it.
But when he was done, among all the later greetings, he couldn't find her anymore.
He thinks it's a shame. They could have been great. In any aspect she desired.
Anyway, Rick heads home accompanied by his mother — who keeps insisting on throwing out some criticism to keep his ego below the clouds — and his daughter, who has a smile on her face during the ride and an occasional eye roll. The women in his family tend to be a little frustrating most days, but they provide all of his life's happiness and fulfillment. And that's what he thinks about before closing his eyes to indulge in a night's rest.
It's been two weeks since the release of Wilder Code. The reviews have been excellent, apart from the residual and painstaking research that Martha in her maternal aspect forces him to listen to. Anyway, there's this renewed deal with the publisher that guarantees at least two more books in the series, and he should have at least the sequel draft in about three months, which could be a problem as inspiration seems to be on the way out. running away from him.
Every now and then, his mind returns to Katherine Beckett. The coordinated stance, the self-assurance in the voice, the willingness to get the response she was looking for. She looked thought provoking. Maybe if he knew her well enough, she could create a character inspired after her.
If only he could find her, he might be able to make her reconsider going out for a drink.
"You're scattered," Alexis, who's across the room, presumably deep in a textbook, observes. "Did something happen?"
Rick moves his eyes to find her looking steadily at him.
"I met this woman at the launch party. "He allows himself to tell. "We had this…interesting interaction."
"Ew, dad!" A disgusted expression covers your daughter's fine features.
"No. Not that kind of interaction." Rick hurries to clarify.
"So, as?"
"I don't know. But she didn't return my flirtations, and she didn't even respond when I asked her out."
"So what?" Alexis arches her eyebrows, teasing starting to ooze from her voice. "Haven't you learned how to deal with rejection yet? Is your heart broken?"
"Very funny." He narrows his eyes at her, secretly proud of her dubious sense of humor. "You learned well." Rick adds, and sighs. "But I need inspiration to write. And my spider sense is saying she could provide me with just that."
"Yes, I bet your interest is purely research, Dad."
Mouth open, his expression turns to feigned pain.
"You hurt me." Theatrically, his hand joins his chest. "I can't believe you're doubting my intentions with a beautiful woman."
Alexis smiles.
"You wouldn't respect me if I didn't."
"Good point. Very true. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt me."
Quite used to this family's drama, all the red-haired figure does is return to the pages of the open book in her hands.
And Rick is opening the fridge in search of something, when he stops in the frigid air and has an idea.
"Perhaps I should hire a private detective?"
"Yes, and maybe I should date Louise's brother."
"What??" That gets your attention. Closing the fridge with an expression very close to horrified.
Alexis stirs.
"Wait, I thought you were kidding. Are you serious?"
"Louise's brother, huh? Talk more about him."
"There's nothing to be said, Dad. Just a stupid daydream. Are you serious about hiring a private detective to find this woman?"
"It's a completely reasonable idea, really. A writer needs to take unconventional steps sometimes in search of his inspiration."
He's looking at her now. If he were anyone else, would be very likely to be something completely idiotic, and a silly assumption that totally didn't happen. But it's her father, and he's too serious to be bluffing.
So she just sighs.
"Dad, is this serious?" Flows from his tongue rhetorically. "I mean, have you tried looking her up on Instagram or Twitter?
"Already. It's a complete waste of time. I mean, have you seen how many Katherine's there are just here in Manhattan? The number of registrations is second only to Olivia's, Emma's, and Sophia's. New Yorkers really need to expand their preference for first names."
Alexis has that thinking look on her face.
"Katherine, then." she probes, loudly. "Perhaps she has a nickname? Kitkat type. Or Kate. Have you tried like this?"
"Kitkat doesn't sound like a respectable nickname, and I don't think she would use it. Not on social media, at least. But the answer for Kate, is yes. I tried."Rick counts. "But I couldn't filter through so many profiles."
"I can try if you want. What is her last name?"
"Beckett. Katherine Beckett."
"Hang on." Alexis' eyes widen. "Are you talking about Detective Beckett? How… Detective Kate Beckett?"
Rick's face explodes in equal parts disbelief and excitement.
"Detective? She is a Detective??? Wait. You know her?How?"
"I… uh, I have this friend who has a crush on her. You know, we were thinking about a summer job to get money for something. And we found this modeling agency that looked great, and they were looking for girls to pitch the brand, so, well… there was a webpage with this woman with cat eyes, fine features and really finely sculpted features of like, many, many years ago.
"Sounds like her." he presses his lips together as he absorbs what is being said. "Go on."
"So, Phoebe is obsessed with these things and wondered how she didn't know this Kate Beckett before. Turns out she only had stuff from over six years ago. And with a little more digging, her name just came up with NYPD stories, arresting murderers and all.
"Homicide detective, huh?" he says loudly, like a child opening presents on Christmas morning. "I knew I could create a character based on her, but I didn't know it could be so cool.
Alexis rolls her eyes.
"Dad, you don't even know her yet. Do not create expectations. Maybe she's corrupt or something.
"Yes, well, that would be a disappointment. But just think how a rogue detective could rock David Wilder's life."
Too late, Alexis thinks to herself, he's already got his hopes up.
"Well, good luck. She is from the 12th Police Department. And for her character research, you would have to meet her. I highly doubt that, corrupt or not, she would let you hang around while she solves murders."
"You're right," Rick huffs, but it only lasts a second. "Luckily I'm a friend of the mayor. Did I mention he's an outspoken Wilder fan?
The expression on Alexis' face is knowing. She is not surprised. He smiled.
"Yes, and what are you going to call and say? Hey, good morning. So I want to do a new Wilder book focused on a female detective. Do you mind giving me permission to work with the police on behalf of the research?"
"You see, after getting research in more contradictory and less conventional ways and being successful, you'd think you'd have a little bit of credibility with your daughter," he says, staring into Alexis's blue eyes. "Apparently not the case."
"Don't be dramatic, Richard." A third person joins them, Rick can't say he's surprised by his mother's meddling as well. "Alexis is just saying what's staring just in the face. Your previous searches had never involved following a woman like Detective Beckett around crime scenes day and night."
No, he mentally agrees, but he managed to get into a CIA agency and follow Sophia Turner and see lots of cool toys, that must count for something.
But wait.
"Do you know her too, mother?"
Martha shrugs.
"I follow the news. I may have seen her from time to time doing her work."
"Well, it doesn't matter. And I am a suspense novelist, and your son, mother. Being dramatic is in the job description." He responds to her first expression, and ignores the thing about his daughter and mother being against his idea, it's not the first time and it's never stopped him before. "Besides, because of my research for Derrick Storm's and David Wilder's books I can be very helpful in solving these crimes. And she can use me the same way I'm going to use her to create my new successful character."
Martha and Alexis simply exchange a look and say nothing.
"Come on, it's going to be a character inspired by her, that's flattering, not abhorrent."
"Yes, like I said before, good luck Dad. I need to go to school." The red-haired figure gets up, leaves a kiss on his cheek. And he repeats the same with Martha. "Bye dad, bye grandma. Love you."
"Love you too, Pumpkin. And ah," He makes her stop and look back. "Don't think I forgot the comment about Louise's brother. We'll talk about that later."
The arrangement to work with the NYPD is pretty much a process. But with some writer-to-fan persuasion, Rick gets his positive response from the mayor and celebrates by opening a bottle of Macallan that night.
And maybe it's the excitement bubbling in his blood, like when he managed to get to a CIA base for research too, but there's just no sleep.
Or at least, he doesn't come. Rick takes a shower, reads a page or two of Sherlock Holmes just for good luck, considering he'll be seeing a detective first thing in the morning. He does a short movie marathon and even when it's past 2am and there's no sign he'll be able to sleep, he types Katherine Beckett, this time into the Google search bar.
The results come instantly. As he scrolls down, he notices that there's no page actually about her. It's just quotes, articles about murders where she acted arresting the killers.
He opens to one of them, it's a story about a little boy who's been kidnapped, there's a picture of her and a guy with a square jaw called Will Sorenson. Her hair looked bigger when it happened. It makes he wonder if she cut her hair because she needed some change. Maybe after a breakup? Anyway, the story is about eight months old. Much may have happened since then.
When Rick opens his eyes, it's morning.It's 6:55 am, so he got a few hours of sleep after all.
He chooses his clothes before bathing, and leaves the house before he finds his mother or his daughter. He's so excited about it that he still doesn't really feel ready to share or have his expectations crushed by the warnings of the women in his life. He grabs a coffee on the way and a cab straight to New York Police Station 12.
That sounds insane. Rick barely knows her, he's only seen her once and maybe she's not all that. Maybe Alexis and her mom are right, and maybe Kate Beckett might not be such a great source of inspiration after all. But the truth is, he's out of options for inspiration, and hanging out with the police might give him a chance to be authentic in describing various scenes. And anyway, and it's not like he's going to give up on it now.
His eyes roam the complex as soon as he steps out of the elevator. Rick presses his lips together, taking in the lack of disregard for the decor of the room, and sighs as he walks toward what he believes to be the captain's office. He bids a few officers good morning, and you can swear some are fans due to the amount of stares that are suddenly scrutinizing him.
"Mr. Castle!" His name is exclaimed, which makes him turn towards the voice. He is a man in a suit and tie, with age marks and a mustache as gray as his hair.
Rick nods, catching up. "Hello, I presume you are Captain Roy Montgomery. Nice to meet you."
With a handshake, the man smiles.
"You presumed right. It is a pleasure to welcome you to my police station. The mayor called me last night to talk about his arrangement. I'd like to discuss the details of this in my office, if you don't mind."
They were in the hallway, in front of the office in question, so when Roy indicates the entrance, Castle walks past her. The captain closes the door behind them.
"So, Mr. Castle–
"Oh, call me Rick, please. If we're going to get along, it's better without all the formalities."
His eyes narrow in his direction.
"I think I heard something about his intentions in joining the police on homicide investigations, but do you mind repeating it for me? And mainly, explain why it is specifically to Det. Beckett the target of your interest?"
The next twenty minutes were Richard Castle using his charm to impress Roy Montgomery. He was well articulated, kept his humor jumpy, his sweetness in evidence and some feigned seriousness to show that he was willing to treat this with due importance.
After that there was the talk about roles. The NYPD needed him to be aware that they would not be responsible for any accidents resulting from crime scenes, and that under no circumstances could Rick sue the police station. Then some signatures were required. In fact, he still had his pen in his hand when an interesting movement caught his eye outside the room.
There were a lot of cops around, sure, he was in a police department, but the glimpse of the specific shape he's been wanting to revisit for some time sounds strangely unmistakable.
Perhaps it was the not-so-subtle sounds of heels hitting the floor of the enclosure, resonating even meters away, walls and closed doors. Or maybe it's the other two cops who engaged her in a rather lively dialogue for 8 am. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. She was there. Katherine Beckett was only a few feet away from him.
Roy followed his gaze. A sneer erupted instantly.
"She's going to hate this."
Rick's eyes widened. "What?"
"Beckett," the captain specified. "She hates ultimatums and just assigning you to her like that, out of the blue… You're going to go through some trials, Castle.
"I go?" Not even he could tell if his voice was laced with concern or excitement over the possible idea of this.
"Try not to sound so excited. She is my best trained police officer. She can kick your ass if she wants to and then you'll never set foot in my precinct again," Roy says with a mixture of fondness and pride. It's a strange thing to see. "Then hope she likes you, Mr. Castle."
Castle smiles, genuine and cheeky.
He's going to follow Katherine Beckett, and he's going to convince her that this is the best thing that could have ever happened to her.