55. Chapter 55

After Flowers for Your Grave and After Nanny McDead

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Who do you think this belongs to? Rating: K Time: The Beginning.

Detective Kate Beckett walked into her apartment, threw her coat onto the couch and strode over to her bookcase. There, returned from the precinct, were her copies of Richard Castle's books, including his newest Derrick Storm book, Storm Fall. That book was lying on its front with the photo of Castle on the dust jacket clearly visible. Kate glared at the photo. "Why do have to be so damned…difficult?" She asked.

She had been a fan of Rick Castle for years. She had to confess that his books fascinated her. Hell! She thought. Up until I met him, Richard Castle had fascinated me. Now he irritates me. And fascinates me. He's so damned different than I expected. And he isn't. His novels were so accurate, so well crafted, so real that I expected Castle to be some sort of mythological being, a serious student of the criminal mind. A master of detection. Not some horny teenager. He spent half the time he was with me trying to get me into bed.

And the other half solving the cases. Beckett was angry at herself for that thought. How can he be two entirely different people at the same time? How can he tell me my life's story and flirt shamelessly with me? He was right. Losing my mom changed my entire life. I'd be someone different now if nothing had ever happened to Mom. I'd be a lawyer, and a damned good one, too. Oh my God! I might be one of those brainless women that ask Castle to sign their boobs at his stupid book signings. Except they aren't stupid. I went to one. Castle was polite and friendly to everyone, even people who weren't polite and friendly back. Just before I got his autograph there was some crazy fan who was screaming obscenities at him. He sat there and smiled at the woman while security hauled her off. He even apologized to the other people in line for the delay. And he's the man who suggested he could be one of my conquests!

Kate turned and walked to her kitchen. She found a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass. Then she sat on the couch. Her collection of Castle books sat in her bookcase, silently reminding her of what Castle had done. He was right. The story was wrong. Kyle Cabot was obsessive. He would never have gotten the details of the murders in Castle's books wrong like that. Castle knew that. Dammit! I knew that, too. That's why I wouldn't let Ryan take the files away. But Castle knew it first.

Oh, he's not perfect. Thank god. He bought Harrison Tisdale's alibi without a thought. Then he told us how to break the alibi. I'd have never thought of a second passport. And who in their right mind would run after a murder suspect, an armed murder suspect? And with one shoe off as well? I don't know whether he's brave, too stupid to know he was risking his life, or just too egotistical to believe he could be killed.

Was he showing off for me? Kate suddenly thought. Like some hormone addled teenaged boy showing off for his girl? He wanted to make sure I'd seen his head butt. He also wanted it in my report. No, he was probably showing off for his fans. It was his ego again.

He was a help with the Sara Manning killing as well. He told us to look for the tenant in 8B. And why the hell did he have to tell us a whole story about that tenant? Couldn't he just have suggested that the tenants were viable suspects? Of course, he just wanted to be the center of attention. Damn him!

He found Sara's phone in that bastard Ian's bedroom. He just called her damned number. Why didn't I think of that? And then he had to follow me into the laundry room with Chloe. What did he think he was doing? Chloe was suicidal. Couldn't he see she was cutting herself with the knife? Did he think having a man there with me was going to be a help? Then he congratulated me on my "sisterhood" thing. He thought I had made all of that up. I'm sure Mr. Castle doesn't have to face the consequences of his actions. Stealing a police horse? While naked? Doesn't he think the police have more important things to do that provide amusement for the idle rich? Things like that are just a big laugh for Richard Castle. And now I'm his entertainment. He may enjoy this, but I won't!

Kate downed her wine and headed for bed, ready to face her next murder and her new problem.

Castle finished the chapter and closed his laptop. It's the story. It's always the story. This is Nikki Heat's story and I think I have some good ideas for her. But the story I really need is Kate Beckett's. She is a mystery. A mystery I may never unravel. She is wounded, but I was too damned glib, saying she was wounded but not that wounded. She's that wounded all right. She was furious that Ian Harris isn't going to have anything worse happen to him than a nasty divorce.

Sara's dead. That wasn't Ian's fault directly, but he didn't help any and now Chloe, pregnant with his child, is headed for prison. Two good people got in over their heads and Ian will skate. Whatever happened, Beckett's anger tells me that her perpetrator was never caught, or got out of it without any serious consequences. Uh oh! No wonder she doesn't like me. I've gotten out of more than my fair share of scrapes with the law due to my friends, my money and my not inconsiderable charm. But, I can make up for that in Beckett's eyes, I think. I've helped her with two cases, and I'm sure I'll help her with more. And it'll be more fun than the occasional community service I've been sentenced to.

Castle laughed as he wrote a scene in his head. "Richard Castle, "the judge solemnly intoned, "for your many crimes I sentence you to serve alongside the beautiful and remarkable Detective Kate Beckett, solving murders and entertaining her. And may God have mercy on your soul."

"Talk about poetic justice." He said quietly.

I was right, though. Beckett shouldn't be a cop. Certainly not a driven cop with no life outside of work. She needs some fun in her life. I saw her eyes when I told her what her own story was. I saw pain. Too much pain for her. For a second, I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her I'd take all of her pain away and replace it with joy. I can't do that, of course. I have no idea what caused her pain and she'll need more than I can provide to find joy.

She should be having fun, though. She should be one of the women at my book parties, laughing and having a good time with that charming rogue, Richard Castle. Castle thought for a moment. No. That's not Kate Beckett. I'm sure she was a serious girl who would have become a serious woman. Just not as serious as she is now.

So, if I'm as good a detective as I think I am, I should be able to help Beckett out with her murders and bring a little fun into her life. I'm sure we'll both enjoy this.

Author's note: Next up is the AU version of After Flowers for Your Grave. Since all of my other After…stories have been as close to canon as I could manage, I thought about making it a stand alone story, but then I remembered the stand alone story that started this series. Besides, I'm lazy.