287. Chapter 287

After Flowers for Your Grave

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I may have mentioned once or twice that I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

Author's note: It's just one After…story. I can stop any time that I want. Really. I don't need to do this. Also, we're getting into the third and sometimes the fourth iteration of the After…stories. From here on out, I'll be dropping the Again or Once More from stories I've done before.

Richard Castle had just come down from the writing Zone. He sat in his office, smiling at the work he had done, drinking a well-deserved Scotch.

"So you're writing again, kiddo?" His mother asked, smiling. "Good to see."

Castle nodded. "I killed off Derrick Storm because I was bored. I could have written another hundred Storm stories in my sleep. I knew exactly what was going to happen on every page. It was bor-r-r-ing. I just couldn't do that anymore."

"Even for the money? Remember, I did those commercials for that awful used car salesman in Brooklyn? But he paid well."

Castle shrugged. "I already have money, Mother. I needed a change."

"And this Detective Beckett is a change? Young, pretty, nice figure? She looks like just more of the same to me."

"No. She's a change as well. She should not be a cop. No way."

"And you know this because?"

"Because of my magical powers. No. She shouldn't be a cop and I need to know why. There's a story there and I need to know it if I'm going to make Nikki Heat come alive."

"Nikki Heat? Do I know her? The name sounds like a phony to me. Something a porn star would come up with."

"Detective Nikki Heat is my new character. A smart, gorgeous, determined New York homicide cop. And I need to know Beckett's story to find Nikki's story." Castle stopped and frowned. "A porn star's name? Really?"

"Holly Ryder? Cali Cox? Cara Lott? Sinn Sage? Porsche Lynn? Of course, really, dear."

"I don't know which is more disturbing. That my own mother knows so many porn star names, or that Nikki Heat might be a porn star's name."

"It's all show business, Richard. And if you write this Nikki well, I'm sure she'll be fine." Martha stopped and smiled. "I remember a time when an actor with a lisp and named Humphrey would never have been cast as a tough guy."

"I'll try to remember not to have Nikki lisp." Castle looked thoughtful. "Thtick 'em up. Thith ith the polithe." He shook his head. "Never work."

"And you're sure that this one won't get to be boring?"

"Not a chance. I found that out following Beckett around. I came into this with no idea what was going on. I didn't know who the main characters were, or the supporting players, or who were just the walk-ons. I couldn't even tell any of them apart. A walk on could have been a major player, or a major player could have been a red herring. It was so different from Derrick Storm. It was exciting. Everything was new and unknown. I haven't felt that for a couple of years now."

"You know these are not characters you can maneuver around in your books, Richard. These are real people. They may not like you interfering in their lives."

Castle laughed. "What? I was a help. I tracked down Harrison Tisdale. I caught the killer."

"From what I heard, he caught you." Martha said, disapprovingly. "You could have been hurt. If Detective Beckett hadn't been there, you might be dead."

Castle stopped to think. "That was another thing that was so different. It was all so very real. Every bit of it. I've seen dead people before. I've talked to morgue attendants, EMT's, forensic pathologists and I've seen dead bodies. But I saw a murder victim. Just a little while before, she had been alive. Happy? Sad? Worried? Ambitious? Lazy? I don't know, but alive. And her story was cut short for someone else's story."

Castle looked off into the middle distance and thought. "It's like I was operating on two levels. On the one hand it was seriously creepy. On the one hand, I knew something was wrong. The dress should have been blue, not yellow. An obsessive like Kyle Cabot couldn't have put her in a yellow dress. It was just like I was writing the story. The plot point just jumped out at me. It's a good thing that I was able to convince Beckett that Kyle was not the killer."

"Oh, yes, Richard. The poor little thing could never have solved a murder without you. Oh! Wait! Isn't she a homicide detective?"

"Sarcasm does not become you, mother." Castle said primly.

"Please just don't get the idea that Detective Beckett and all that she does is just there to be your personal playground, Richard. That's how you lost Gina."

"Is that it? Silly me. I thought it had something to do with her oh, so expensive habits and spending. If I ever need a female character named High Maintenance, I know just who to base her on." Castle frowned dramatically. "But wait! Does that sound too much like a porn stars name?"

"Sarcasm does not become you either, kiddo. Now get back to writing. Gina is expecting something useful from you in three weeks, or so my sources tell me."

"Something useful is my middle name." Castle said sarcastically.

…

Detective Javier Esposito leaned over to talk privately to his partner. "I've got a friend." He said in a low voice.

"I'll alert the media." Ryan said quickly.

"A friend in the Police Commissioner's office. I've got news. The writer who was here, Castle? He's going to be staying with us. Research for his next book."

Ryan shrugged. "So? Last year there were a bunch of actors over at the Three Eight. They were there to pick up the slang, the terminology, how a homicide team works, stuff like that. They were out in week. I heard Sergeant Donaldson got lucky with one of the actresses."

Esposito shook his head. "The only time Donaldson gets lucky is when someone believes one of his bullshit stories. You saw Castle. He was out with Beckett, interviewing witnesses, and he chased down that Tisdale clown and caught him."

"Yeah. With no weapon. Our rich writer will not do that again." Ryan scoffed. "Like I said, a week, maybe two, if he's hot for Beckett. And once he finds out she's not available, he's gone."

"Twenty bucks?" Esposito said. "The man is seriously strange. The only way we're going to get that dude out of here is to push him out. I know, bro. I saw people just like him in Special Forces."

"A millionaire writer who's always on Page Six with some hot model and you knew guys just like him in the Army? Yeah, and I own a nice bridge over in Brooklyn you can have cheap."

"Like I said. Twenty bucks?"

Ryan held out his hand. "Deal."