340. Chapter 340

After The Final Nail

Episode 3.15

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Damian Westlake did not encourage me to write this as I don't own Castle. Rating: K+ Time: See above.

Author's note: I'll be on the road this weekend, so there will be no updates until Sunday.

Freshman year, Edgewick Academy.

The tall, skinny boy walked into the office. He nervously pushed his hair back over his forehead. He wasn't sure if he was in trouble or not.

"Come in. I'm Damian Westlake, the editor of our not so esteemed literary journal. And you would be…Richard Rodgers?"

Rodgers nodded, still not sure why he was there.

"What do they call you? Rick? Richard? Rodgers?" Damian smiled. "Slim, maybe."

"Um, Rick, I guess." He mumbled.

"Rick I. Guess? I'll call you Ricky, then. Sit down. I want to talk to you about the short story you sent in. It's good. It's very good."

Rick was surprised. "It is?"

Damian laughed. "At least you're not egotistical." His face became more serious. "It's good, Ricky. But it could be great. You have real talent. You could be a great writer."

If Rick hadn't been sitting, he might have fallen over. "Thank you." Holy shit! Damian Westlake thinks I have talent?

"Let's go over this story. I want you to read the third paragraph. The one where the boy is looking at the sunrise and describing the view of the beach and the ocean."

Rick took his story and read it. What was he supposed to be seeing that Damian had seen? "It's a description of the beach. And the ocean."

"And you used the word "Spectacular" five times in one paragraph, Ricky. Once is enough to show the view was spectacular. Now about the girl in the story. You don't have a girlfriend, do you?"

Rick tried to keep from blushing. His mom's nomadic lifestyle had kept him from getting to know any girl well enough to be considered his girlfriend. He just shook his head.

"I wouldn't worry about it. You'll get one soon enough. Now let's look at this part of the story…"

Senior year, Edgewick Academy.

"Ricky! Good to see you. How's my replacement at the Edgewick Literary Gazette?"

Rick shook his best friend's hand. "Fine. I actually have an idea for a novel. Sort of a murder mystery. But how are you doing at Harvard? The chapters of the novel you sent me were…." Rick smiled. "…Spectacular. When can I see the rest?"

Damian looked away briefly. "I haven't written much more than what you've seen. I've been busy."

Rick nodded. "I guess Harvard is pretty demanding."

He looked away again. "I dropped out for a semester. I've been in Europe for the last two months. London is great, Ricky. And the girls are so…Spectacular."

"I heard about your dad. I'm sorry. I guess you needed a break after something like that."

Damian stared at the ground. "Yeah. I really needed some time to myself. And some fun." Suddenly he smiled. "So, let me see that novel of yours. When can I see it?"

"It's not a novel yet, just some ideas, some character sketches of the main characters, some dialogue and…"

"What's it called?" Damian interrupted.

"In a Hail of Bullets." Rick said proudly.

Damian laughed. "At least it has a murder mystery title. So, let's go."

"I have to pick up Kyra first."

"Kyra?" Damian smiled. "You have a girlfriend at last?"

"I've had several, as if you didn't know."

Senior year, college.

"What do you think of it, honestly? Be honest. Don't sugar coat anything. Be brutal, if you have to. Don't worry. I can take it."

Kyra frowned. "Well, since you put it that way. It's awful. The characterizations are weak to the point of being cardboard cut outs of real people. The dialogue so stilted that it's absolutely impossible to imagine any actual person talking that way. And the plot? Rick, it's one gigantic plot hole. No one is going to believe that plot. And the title? Death of a Prom Queen? It sounds like some kind of pornographic snuff book, not a murder mystery. In short, it sucks from end to end. Every single word sucks."

Rick was devastated. The smile faded from his face and he looked like he was going to cry.

Kyra took pity on him and began to laugh. "You should see your face! Be brutal! I can take it. Rick, I know you and I know you cannot take criticism. And I just proved it." She leaned into him and kissed him. "But I still love you. And I love Death of a Prom Queen as well."

"You do?" Rick said, too relieved to be angry.

"That's not to say that there aren't a few things that need work."

"Such as?"

"Here. Page fifty eight. What were you trying to say here?"

Rick read the paragraph Kyra was pointing to. "Um. It's really quite simple. I was saying….I was exhausted when I wrote that because some woman had kept me up all night for her incessant demands for sex."

"Some woman?" Kyra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You." Castle smiled and kissed her. "And, I have another idea for a book. I know you'll be as big a help with it as you were on this one."

Kyra frowned. "Another book? Rick, there's something I need to talk to you about."

First year with Beckett

"Beckett, could I ask you a question?"

Beckett turned in her chair and glared at Castle. "Is the question related to our case?"

"Um, not exactly."

"How not exactly?" She asked, intensifying the glare.

"Not at all." Castle admitted.

"Castle, I'm a detective. I have a murder to solve. I do not have time to waste on your inane questions that do nothing but waste my time. Do you understand that? I have to put up with you following me around, but I am not at your beck and call every time you need something else to make me look ridiculous in that book of yours." Beckett turned away from him.

"I'll ask Ryan." He said, getting out of his chair.

"No you will not. " She barked at him. "And you won't ask Esposito, and you won't ask Karpowski and you won't ask LT. You won't ask anyone. Is that clear?"

Castle stood thee for a second. "I'll just get another cup of coffee. You want one?"

"No." She growled.

Beckett looked up a few minutes later and saw Castle still in the break room, pouting. She sighed and stood up, heading for the break room.

Castle busied himself with the coffee machine when he saw Beckett coming. Perhaps he could win her over with coffee. Right. He thought. Who ever heard of winning a woman over by offering her battery acid with monkey pee in it?

"Castle..." She began.

"Not asking for anything. Not asking anyone for anything. Not at all." He said defensively.

"I'm upset. You could have gotten killed by that Nigerian. You could have gotten hurt a couple of other times. I'm upset with you for getting into trouble. I'm upset with myself for not keeping you out of trouble. I'm upset with the world for being….the way it is." She saw him smiling. "And any death or injury to you would generate an unbelievable amount of paperwork, which I would have to do, with no help from you. But I shouldn't take all of my frustrations out on you. Do you have a simple question that I can answer for you without taking up my whole day?"

Castle nodded. "I know the NYPD authorizes its officers to use either of two automatic pistols. A Glock like you carry and a SIG Sauer. Both 9mm. But I've seen officers carrying revolvers. Why is that?"

Kate nodded. At least this was easy. "The NYPD changed from revolvers to automatics in 1994. Officers who had carried revolvers at that time were allowed to continue…."

"Wait. Let me get my notebook out."

Kate rolled her eyes.

Fifth year with Kate

Rick Castle woke up to see the most beautiful woman in the world standing over him. "Hi."

Kate smiled at him. "Hi, yourself."

Castle looked up at her. He still couldn't believe that he was with Kate at last. "I got in late last night. I didn't want to wake you."

"I thought you were coming back from the book tour today."

"I couldn't wait. There was flight back to New York late last night and I took it. I wanted to be with you."

She got down on the bed with him and kissed him. "That's sweet."

"You're sweet." He noticed she had something. "Why do you have my laptop?"

Kate reddened slightly, "I looked at the latest Nikki Heat that you started. I added a few things."

"Added?"

"I wrote them in red so that you'd know my writing from yours."

"Let me see." She handed him the laptop.

"Kate. On this first paragraph you wrote, where you're describing Nikki? You use the word spectacular five times."

"So?"

Castle looked at the love of his life. He had to tell her. "For Nikki, more spectaculars are called for. I would have used seven or eight."

"You don't think it's repetitive?"

"You are the most spectacular woman on the planet. When I use spectacular, I mean it. You and Nikki are spectacular. Trust me, I'm a novelist. A spectacular novelist talking about a spectacular woman and a spectacular detective. Did I mention that you're spectacular? Because you are spectacular. Very spectacular."

Kate laughed and snuggled up against him. "Whatever you say."