847. Chapter 847

After Cloudy with a Chance of Murder

Episode 5.02

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: There's a 100% chance I don't own Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

"Hi, I'm Rick Rodgers, sports."

The gorgeous brunette looked up at him from her desk with a look that came straight from the Arctic. She looked at him for a second before she spoke. "I'm Katherine Beckett, not Kate, not Katie, not Kat, but Katherine. And, unlike the other women in this place, I'm a journalist and not just eye candy for men with an excess of testosterone and hormones. So, you'll be glad to know that you can quit now since you've gotten as far with me as you ever will. But, in the unlikely instance that I ever need an over muscled, under educated sports reporter, you'll be on my list. Near the bottom." She turned away from him and continued to read something on her computer.

He smiled at her, although she couldn't see it. "Wow. Those are awfully big words. I guess you learned them at Stanford where you did your undergrad work and then got your Masters. Or maybe you learned those big words in your first TV gig in Salinas. Between the time you got there and the time you threw your boss's lunch in his face when he told you that you had no future in the news business, excuse me, journalism, until you got a boob job. Then again, since you were officially "Difficult to work with.", maybe you learned them big words, that is, those big words when you bought a camera and went to Central Africa. Your pictures of the refugee camps were quite poignant although your combat photos were less compelling. All together it's just too much for a poor barefoot boy from Princeton."

Katherine had begun smiling about halfway through his little speech. She looked back up at him. "Hello, Mr. Rodgers. I'm Katherine Beckett, a new reporter here at WHNY. Glad to meet you."

"Glad to meet you as well, Ms. Beckett. I should tell you that you'll have trouble with two men here, neither of whom are me. Albert Jonas, the 5AM news anchor hates everyone. He had a shot at a major network job until he went on vacation just before 9/11. Rick Bryan was on the air constantly while Al was out of touch fishing in Canada. Al's career has been all downhill since then. George Bradley will be a bigger problem. He's God's gift to journalism and women and if you don't believe it, just ask him. And he'll never take no for an answer."

"Thanks. But please call me Katherine."

"I'm Rick, and I like to know who I'm working with."

"Hey, Rick. West Coast games are starting. Get your butt over here." Someone called.

"Nice meeting you." He said, rushing away.

"Same here." She called back. As soon as he was gone, she went on the internet to look up Rick Rodgers.

When Rick was done with his news, he started to walk out. He found that George Bradley had Katherine backed up against her desk and was coming onto her very strongly. He sighed. I guess she doesn't want to throw George's lunch in his face on her first day on the job. He turned and headed for her desk. "Ready to go, Katherine?"

Beckett turned quickly, a puzzled look on her face that quickly disappeared when she figured out what he was doing. "Absolutely." She pushed George out of her way.

"I didn't know you two knew each other." Bradley said with a sour expression on his face.

"We have mutual friends. I said I'd show Katherine some of the better restaurants in the area."

"Maybe I can show you the best restaurants." George called after her.

Beckett didn't reply, but just put her arm through Rick's.

Once in the elevator, she removed her arm. "Thanks. You were right. He won't take no for an answer, no matter what I did."

"You realize you have a problem now."

She stared at him. "You?"

"Sort of. He'll be on you whenever I'm not around. And he'll want to get me out of the picture ASAP. He considers me his rival for you."

"That's ridiculous."

"Just try telling old George that. The fact that we're together will make you all the more desirable to Lonesome George."

"We are not together." Beckett said sharply.

"Like I said, try telling that to George."

"So what do I do?"

"Right now? Let me take you to dinner. You like Chinese?"

"Fine, but I'll pay my share."

The food was good and Rodgers was entertaining and knowledgeable. She was surprised at how much he know about the local news scene.

"Okay, I looked you up, too. Princeton, English Lit major, published author and ex-pro football player. How did you end up as a sports reporter at WHNY?"

He shrugged. "To the horror of my professors, I never wanted to write the Great American Novel. I wanted to write fun books. So, I wrote about a character named Derrick Storm, a professional baseball player in the early twentieth century who always seemed to be around murders and solved them. The first book sold pretty well. The second book sold less well and the third book didn't sell at all. My publisher dropped me and no one has shown any interest at all in the fourth book."

"Luckily, I was drafted by the New York Jets. I was their third string tight end. In the divisional championship game, with the Jets down by three and the clock running out, we were fourth and forever. The guy covering me slipped and I was open. The quarterback threw the ball just a bit too far and it hit my fingertips, but I managed to knock it in the air. I tried to run under it, but it bounced into the air again. Every Jets fan will tell you that I kept knocking that ball in the air for the whole seventy one yards to the end zone. Actually, it was for seventeen yards, eighteen, tops. I scored and we won. I made every highlight reel in the country that night."

"So why aren't you still playing pro ball?"

"In the League Championship game I had my knee bent in a way knees are not supposed to bend. My knee is fine for a sports reporter, but not for football. But, as a local football hero, WHNY was happy to hire me. I've been lucky, I guess."

Beckett nodded. "So, what am I going to do about this Bradley guy hitting on me constantly?"

Rick shook his head. "I hate to admit it, but the guy is a very good reporter. You go head to head with him and management will take his side every time."

"So I just let him paw me?"

"Sorry. I didn't see him do that to you. I would have done something about it." Rick looked serious for a moment. "You could come on to the weather girl. You're her type and that's one thing Bradley can't handle. But Tricia is awfully possessive."

"That's it?"

"Well, you could become my girlfriend."

"That's the oddest come on line I've ever heard. Are you serious?"

"Sort of. Look, I get a lot of women that want to date that hunky reporter who caught that ball in that game. I'm a trophy, not a person. It would be nice to just have someone around to talk to who's actually got a brain and uses it for something other than posting on social media."

"That would be it?" Beckett asked suspiciously.

"Basically. We'd have lunch and dinner sometimes. We are on the same schedule at the station. We can go to movies, go out for a drink. Do you like baseball?"

"Yes. My dad started taking me to games when I was a little girl."

Rick nodded. "So, when people ask if we're together, we'll just say, "No, we're just friends.", and they won't believe a word of it."

She remembered Bradley running his hand over her hip, headed for her ass. She nodded. "Okay, but we really are just friends. Right?"

"Absolutely."

Two months later, Katherine came to Rick's apartment for the first time to read his books. In three evenings she read through Derrick Storm and Napoleon, Derrick Storm Steals First Base, and Derrick Storm and the Leland Giants, plus his untitled and unfinished fourth Derrick Storm book.

"Your books are good, you know that?" She said.

Rick laughed. "If only you were a publisher."

"I do write fairly well, I think. I need that as a reporter. Your plotting is excellent, fantastic even. But your characters are sort of one dimensional. I think I can help with that."

"What?" He said, not sure what she meant. "How?"

"By helping you rewrite the book, of course."

"Are you serious?"

She got up, walked over to him and sat on his lap. They looked at each other for long seconds, then she kissed him. "So, are we partners?"

"Just as writers?" He asked.

"Of course not, silly."

Author's note: Okay, baseball fans, does anyone recognize where the titles of the three books mentioned are from?