Work Text:
"Ask any writer, good or bad, published or not, and they'll tell you their trick to writing. Write for 10 minutes a day, write for an hour a day, write every day no matter what comes to mind. Only write if you know what you want to write. Only write things you know about, only write things you've experienced. Just get it down, don't polish it as you go. Polish it as you go so that you can look back and know where you were going. Carry something with you at all times so that when the idea strikes you can write it down. I know a guy who wanders around with a recorder and a pocket full of tapes. He mumbles his stories into the recorder and then gets his wife to type them out later."
"Why his wife?" Beckett interrupts. He hates it when she interrupts his brilliant monolgue with questions he feels compelled to answer.
"Because he's hard at hearing so he can't understand what he mumbled into the tape. There are some people that say it's his wife that writes and he's just crazy. Well. He is kind of crazy, but that has nothing to do with it," he waves his hand to dismiss the matter.
"Is there a point to this Castle?" She asks. He frowns. There was a point, he was making a point. What was he saying? Right!
"Sure, the point is that no matter what method a writer uses to get the words down on paper, they'll all tell you the exact same thing. The Muse is a fickle bitch."
"The Muse?"
"Well, okay, not everyone calls it their muse, you're my muse, you know that right, Beckett? My one and only."
"Spare me," she mutters.
"Some people call it their inspiration, some people just call it writers block, some people call it an urge or an itch, but no matter what you call it, everyone agrees that it can take its sweet time coming sometimes."
"Is that why there was such a long gap between Storm Break and Storm Fall? Writers Block," Castle glares at her, but there's no heat to it.
"I'll have you know, I have never suffered writers block in my life. There was a gap between Storm Break and Storm Fall for two reasons, one, my publicist spent two months trying to hold me off of publishing it because she didn't want me to kill off Derrick,"
"And the other?" Beckett asks dryly. He grins at her, wide and unashamed.
"Well, she spent two months trying to hold me off of publishing, you know, in bed," Beckett makes an annoyed, disgusted sound and spins around back to her desk as her phone starts ringing. Esposito eyes him in disbelief and Ryan quirks an eyebrow in interest.
"I don't think a fickle, bitchy Muse killed our guy," Esposito says and looks over at the white board full of notes.
"You just have no imagination," Castle replies.
"No, it was probable the Butler," Ryan adds. Castle glares at them both.
"You're both of the Maxim Party list," he tells them. Both of their eyes widen.
"You're having a Maxim Party?" Ryan asks. Castle smiles, Beckett hangs up the phone, stands up, snatches her jacket off the back of her chair and heads to the elevator. Castle follows her, walking backwards a few steps to point at both men.
"Yeah, and you're not invited." The elevator door closes on their identical expressions of horror.
"You're not going to tell them it's a Mary Maxim party for your mother's new obsession, are you?" Beckett asks.
"Absolutely not," Castle says. There's a smile on his face, there's murder afoot and Ryan and Esposito are going to be playing nice with him for the rest of the day all thanks his mother's latest audition. "The lengths an actor will go to for their potential roles."
"You're an awful human being sometimes, Castle," Beckett says as they exit the elevator and head out onto the street.
"Sometimes," Castle agrees and holds the door open for her, even if she glares at him for it.
***
"Why are we at the airport?" Castle asks, thirty minutes later. They're standing at arrivals, leaning against the squad car looking all obvious and police-like.
"We're here to pick up two CBI agents," Beckett replies. Which isn't really an answer.
"That's not really an answer," Castle points out. "I meant why are we at the airport and what does it have to do with our case, ooh, but I'll add what's a CBI agent to the list now," he doesn't have to look at her to know that Beckett is rolling her eyes.
"California Bureau of Investigations and we're here to pick them up because the call I got from Dr. Parish says that the DNA under our vic's fingernails matches the DNA from one of their cases."
"A murder case?" Castle asks.
"Yes Castle," Beckett says. "A murder case," and does that thing where she's trying to glare and deadpan at the same time. It's kind of endearing, and when he figures out how to actually classify it as an expression he's trademarking it for Nikki Heat.
"Wow," he says. "Wow, I'm just giddy."
"Why are you giddy?" Beckett demands and okay, now she's not wearing her endearing glare/deadpan face anymore, now she's annoyed.
"Do I get to watch you duke it out for jurisdiction?" he asks instead of answering. "Is it going to be like on TV when the FBI tries to take over from the locals? Is it going to be like Criminal Minds?"
"I like him," a male voice says. Smooth sounding, kind of cultured, a little bit more amused than it should. Castle is instantly hooked. He and Beckett both turn around to find said CBI agents, if the badge the woman flashes is anything to go by, standing on the curb behind them.
"Teresa Lisbon, California Bureau of Investigation," she introduces. She's pretty, dark hair, pale skin, blue eyes. "And Patrick Jane, Consultant."
"You have one too, do you?" Beckett asks. "Kate Beckett, NYPD," she jerks her thumb at Castle. "Richard Castle, author, pain in the ass, tag along."
"Hey," Castle interrupts. "I object to that, I'm much more charming than a pain in the ass, you like me," it comes out more like an accusation than anything and he mentally reviews the conversation he had with Alexis this morning. He'll have to apologize, concede. He does sound like a five year old sometimes.
"You kind of are," Beckett says.
"Don't mind her," Castle says and holds his hand out to shake Agent Lisbon's, then Jane's. He has a cool hand, dry. Grip not too tight. "She's just bitter because the mayor says she has to play nice with me." Agent Lisbon smiles a tad too tightly and opens the door to the front passenger side leaving Castle to get into the back with Jane.
***
"Richard Castle," Jane muses. "The author?" Castle smiles at him. They're in the break room at the station, sitting at the table waiting for Beckett and Lisbon.
"A fan?" he asks.
"Oh I don't read books," Jane replies. Which is a lie and Castle knows this.
"Sure you don't," he says. "I can sign something on the low down if that's what you want," he offers and winks. It's bad timing really because Esposito and Ryan come into the break room in time to hear the very last of the sentence and see the wink. But it confirms that he really does like this Patrick Jane, because Jane puts his hand on Castle's arm and smiles like they're sharing a private joke and makes it look entirely gay at the same time. It's worth it to hear Ryan choke on his coffee when he sees them.
"Guys," he says brightly to them. "This is Patrick Jane, I get to call him Patrick, but you get to call him Jane, he's a consultant with the FBI,"
"CBI," Jane corrects.
"Right, CBI, where's my head at," he sees the way Patrick's eyes narrow before he tilts his head in acknowledgment. It all takes 2 seconds and the others don't notice, but now Jane knows that Castle knows, which is important, Castle likes when people know he knows their secrets.
"Oh right, 'cause of the Doctor's DNA," Esposito says. "Hey, you know how he got out of prison and made his way down here?"
"It's actually quite easy to get out of Prison," Jane replies. "But I'm not sure why he was here."
"Castle here thinks it's a Muse thing,"
"As in the singer or the greek mythology?"
"The Greek Mythology," Castle replies. "Like writing."
"Yeah, he thinks the good Doctor killed our vic because she was refusing to inspire him." Ryan says, his voice is kind of squeaky from the coughing fit.
"Interesting," Jane says with a smile.
"Oh hey," Castle says, ignoring the detectives in favour of his newest shiny. "I'm having a Maxim Party this weekend. If you're still around, you should come." Jane smiles like he already gets the joke. "You want to get some coffee? I have to check in with the rugrat."
"I'd be delighted to attend your little soiree," Jane says. "Do you have any tea?"
"Absolutely."
***
Richard Castle is a unique individual, Patrick doesn't think he's seen every side of the man there is to see but he knows that every part of the man he has seen is the truth. He's honest for all his rather circumspect behaviour.
His daughter Alexis is a spitfire, a delightly innocent and yet worldly teenage girl who, when she rebels in a year or two, will probably dye her hair a hideous colour, get a nose piercing and do so with her father's full permission just in case. If she doesn't have permission already and from Castle's behaviour, he's sure that she probably already does.
His mother is another story altogether. She's an old world spirit, a happy go lucky person, she's one of those people who Jane loves to meet. She's selfish and rude, and entirely self-absorbed, but she loves and she makes people happy.
Castle is an enigma, wrapped in mystery, also, he has clover honey. For the tea. And real tea. Loose leaf Darjeeling in a glass jar. Jane's kind of torn between wanting to find out more about Castle and wanting more tea. Castle seems quite happy to provide him with both for now though. Apparently his detective called and ordered him to keep a firm eye on Jane, per Lisbon's orders.
"You really that much of a trouble maker?" Castle asks and drops a package of lemon cookies on the table.
"Not so much a trouble maker, more I get unconventional results that sometimes end with Agent Lisbon trying to keep the director from throttling me for ignoring procedure. He tends to forget I'm not actually an agent." Castle nods in understanding and Jane gets the feeling that he does understand.
"Yeah, Beckett doesn't like that I'm allowed in the interogation room with her. I tend to..." he trails of and waves his hand around a mouthful of cookie.
"Get invovled?" Jane fills in.
"Exactly!" Somehow they move from everything Jane knows about Dr. Roy Carmen to every reason Castle based Nikki Heat off of Detective Beckett, with the exception of the one he's not saying and Jane is suspecting, to why Jane agrees that Space Cowboy is probably one of the better halloween costumes, but that Alexis is right, and wearing the same thing every year since 2003 is probably a no-no. Not that Jane's one to talk, he wears the same four suits.
Jane might possibly be a little in love, or at least, a little in obssession with the writer cum detective. It's very rarely that he finds someone who doesn't lie to him with their every word, movement or glance. When Castle catches him looking a little too long, Jane meets his stare with a helpless shrug. It's professional curiousity, he just can't help himself.
***
Castle's probably a little bit in lust with Jane. He's nice looking, blonde hair, blue eyes, white smile. He finds humour in every day things, and definitely enjoys the simple things in life if his delight over the clover honey is anything to go by. It's professional curiousity that has him meeting Jane's eyes longer than he should. His fingers are itching to write. There's going to be a charming, not really psychic character in the next Nikki Heat novel and Castle just can't help it. On the plus side, he knows Jane won't mind.
***
"They're kind of just, staring at each other," Alexis whispers into the phone. She peeks around the door frame of her room and sure enough, her father and Mr. Jane are still sitting at the island, drinking tea, talking, laughing and staring.
"Don't worry," Beckett says. "We're coming to pick them up right now, we'll get them out of your hair."
"Is there such thing as obssession at first sight?" Alexis asks worriedly.
/end