castle fic: after hours
Title: After Hours
Words: 1066
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing.
Summary: Drunk!team at the Old Haunt after a hard case fic. Set... sometime in s5, I guess?
Notes: I've decided there's not enough Old Haunt fic. Also: drunk Ryan = my little brother drunk.
They're on the far side of exhausted, the loopy side, the side that mixes with caffeine and adrenaline to make them dead tired but nowhere near sleepy. It's been four days with nothing but a few, too-short naps in the breakroom, Esposito and Beckett stretched out on the couches and poor Ryan - who literally drew the short coffee stirrer - curled up like a cat under his desk. [Castle has the blurry photos from Karpowski's phone to prove it.] Even Lanie had stayed, catching a few hours' rest on an autopsy table, and Castle can't decide if that's awesome or gross.
He feels guilty. Gates got so frustrated with their spinning wheels that she sent him home and, honestly, he was too scared of her to put up a fight. He got a full seven hours on a real damn bed and all the coffee and pastries in the world don't make him feel any less guilty when he sees them slumped at their desks, black-eyed the next morning.
Which is why he's shoving them into the town car he ordered and taking them to the Old Haunt.
Booze is probably the last thing they need - Espo can't stop twitching and Ryan's leaning heavily on Lanie's shoulder and Beckett's got this glazed look in her eye like she's not sure what to focus on anymore - but they asked for it and Gates gave them the weekend off. That and they saved three little girls tonight and he's still feeling a little guilty about his decent night's sleep so if they want alcohol, he will provide it.
God, he loves owning a bar. Last call doesn't exist for them.
Esposito is too wired to sit still; he starts unstacking all the chairs from the tables with shaking hands. Castle would stop him but the cleaning crew's already washed the floor for the night so if he wants to take all the chairs down, he can take all the chairs down. Ryan's counting out loud as he does it, starts chanting, "Javi, there's five of us, only five, we need five chairs," as they all come down.
"Christ, Castle, beer," Lanie sighs, waving a vague hand in the boys' direction. "Calm them down. Shut them up."
He'd been taking his time, looking through the good stuff they keep in the back, but they don't need that now. He'll save that for later; right now they just need to get drunk.
Ryan's a happy drunk, an affectionate drunk: every time Castle pours him another beer, Ryan leans across the counter and hugs his arm, smiles into his shoulder. "Thaaaank you, Castle," he slurs with a dopey smile.
Esposito mellows out, like the alcohol counteracts all the adrenaline and caffeine in his system. He finally sits, hands still, and he sips his beer slowly, lining up the bottles carefully along the edge of the table.
Lanie's the only one who looks like she could sleep right now. She abandons the bar for a booth across the way, knees tucked up on the cushioned seat. She starts to rise when Castle pulls out her favorite drink, but he waves at her to stay put and brings it over, an extra cherry bobbing in the glass.
And Beckett. Kate sits at the end of the bar, silent and awake, looking the most normal out of all of them. She watches Castle move behind the bar, getting another beer for Espo and mopping up Ryan's spills. She turns away with a small smile, pretends not to notice the way he runs a soft hand over Lanie's hair, covers her with his jacket when she finally falls asleep. He keeps glancing over at her, raising one eyebrow to ask if she wants anything else because she's been nursing that beer for so long. Long enough that Ryan and Esposito, arms around each other's shoulders, have started exploring the dark corners of the Old Haunt and have uncovered the piano. Ryan starts tinkering - bits and pieces of Christmas songs first, then the theme of Star Wars - and finally settles on something old and bluesy that Castle's never heard of but Esposito obviously has because he starts singing softly from the floor next to Ryan's bench.
It's nice for a while, the normalcy of it, like this is any Friday night after closing and they haven't just chased a serial killer around town for almost a week. The boys are singing and picking at each other every time Ryan plays the wrong note or Esposito forgets a word; Lanie's stirring because the boys aren't quiet about it, but she smiles at the music and hums along, still half-asleep.
Beckett crooks a finger at him and he shuffles down the counter, snagging his own beer as he goes.
"Are we going home?" She asks, quietly, when he's gotten close enough, the piano nearly drowning her words. He's not sure which "we" she's referring to, or even which home, but he doesn't much care. He could call for the town car again but it would be too much trouble trying to get them all out the door and back to their apartments. Jenny went to go visit her sister for the week so no one's expecting any of them. He shakes his head.
Beckett stands and starts walking, fairly steadily, towards the basement door. Ryan's trying to teach Esposito "Chopsticks" with little success, but Lanie's egging them on sleepily, her head pillowed on the top of the booth.
"You guys okay with crashing here?" Castle calls, following Beckett towards the stairs, reaching out to grab the hand that's trailing behind her. Lanie and Esposito nod; Ryan crashes his hands onto the piano keys, giggling at the loud, dissonant sound it makes. Castle threads his fingers through Beckett's and she tugs on his hand with a smile.
The couch in his office isn't really wide enough for two but they make it work. Beckett's a snuggler when she's this tired and he wraps his arms around waist to keep her from falling to the floor.
[He's not sure how it happens, but when he wakes the next morning he's on the floor with his head on Ryan's feet, Lanie and Kate tucked in on the couch, and Esposito snoring in his desk chair. He's never been so uncomfortable in his life. But it feels nice.]
Words: 1066
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing.
Summary: Drunk!team at the Old Haunt after a hard case fic. Set... sometime in s5, I guess?
Notes: I've decided there's not enough Old Haunt fic. Also: drunk Ryan = my little brother drunk.
They're on the far side of exhausted, the loopy side, the side that mixes with caffeine and adrenaline to make them dead tired but nowhere near sleepy. It's been four days with nothing but a few, too-short naps in the breakroom, Esposito and Beckett stretched out on the couches and poor Ryan - who literally drew the short coffee stirrer - curled up like a cat under his desk. [Castle has the blurry photos from Karpowski's phone to prove it.] Even Lanie had stayed, catching a few hours' rest on an autopsy table, and Castle can't decide if that's awesome or gross.
He feels guilty. Gates got so frustrated with their spinning wheels that she sent him home and, honestly, he was too scared of her to put up a fight. He got a full seven hours on a real damn bed and all the coffee and pastries in the world don't make him feel any less guilty when he sees them slumped at their desks, black-eyed the next morning.
Which is why he's shoving them into the town car he ordered and taking them to the Old Haunt.
Booze is probably the last thing they need - Espo can't stop twitching and Ryan's leaning heavily on Lanie's shoulder and Beckett's got this glazed look in her eye like she's not sure what to focus on anymore - but they asked for it and Gates gave them the weekend off. That and they saved three little girls tonight and he's still feeling a little guilty about his decent night's sleep so if they want alcohol, he will provide it.
God, he loves owning a bar. Last call doesn't exist for them.
Esposito is too wired to sit still; he starts unstacking all the chairs from the tables with shaking hands. Castle would stop him but the cleaning crew's already washed the floor for the night so if he wants to take all the chairs down, he can take all the chairs down. Ryan's counting out loud as he does it, starts chanting, "Javi, there's five of us, only five, we need five chairs," as they all come down.
"Christ, Castle, beer," Lanie sighs, waving a vague hand in the boys' direction. "Calm them down. Shut them up."
He'd been taking his time, looking through the good stuff they keep in the back, but they don't need that now. He'll save that for later; right now they just need to get drunk.
Ryan's a happy drunk, an affectionate drunk: every time Castle pours him another beer, Ryan leans across the counter and hugs his arm, smiles into his shoulder. "Thaaaank you, Castle," he slurs with a dopey smile.
Esposito mellows out, like the alcohol counteracts all the adrenaline and caffeine in his system. He finally sits, hands still, and he sips his beer slowly, lining up the bottles carefully along the edge of the table.
Lanie's the only one who looks like she could sleep right now. She abandons the bar for a booth across the way, knees tucked up on the cushioned seat. She starts to rise when Castle pulls out her favorite drink, but he waves at her to stay put and brings it over, an extra cherry bobbing in the glass.
And Beckett. Kate sits at the end of the bar, silent and awake, looking the most normal out of all of them. She watches Castle move behind the bar, getting another beer for Espo and mopping up Ryan's spills. She turns away with a small smile, pretends not to notice the way he runs a soft hand over Lanie's hair, covers her with his jacket when she finally falls asleep. He keeps glancing over at her, raising one eyebrow to ask if she wants anything else because she's been nursing that beer for so long. Long enough that Ryan and Esposito, arms around each other's shoulders, have started exploring the dark corners of the Old Haunt and have uncovered the piano. Ryan starts tinkering - bits and pieces of Christmas songs first, then the theme of Star Wars - and finally settles on something old and bluesy that Castle's never heard of but Esposito obviously has because he starts singing softly from the floor next to Ryan's bench.
It's nice for a while, the normalcy of it, like this is any Friday night after closing and they haven't just chased a serial killer around town for almost a week. The boys are singing and picking at each other every time Ryan plays the wrong note or Esposito forgets a word; Lanie's stirring because the boys aren't quiet about it, but she smiles at the music and hums along, still half-asleep.
Beckett crooks a finger at him and he shuffles down the counter, snagging his own beer as he goes.
"Are we going home?" She asks, quietly, when he's gotten close enough, the piano nearly drowning her words. He's not sure which "we" she's referring to, or even which home, but he doesn't much care. He could call for the town car again but it would be too much trouble trying to get them all out the door and back to their apartments. Jenny went to go visit her sister for the week so no one's expecting any of them. He shakes his head.
Beckett stands and starts walking, fairly steadily, towards the basement door. Ryan's trying to teach Esposito "Chopsticks" with little success, but Lanie's egging them on sleepily, her head pillowed on the top of the booth.
"You guys okay with crashing here?" Castle calls, following Beckett towards the stairs, reaching out to grab the hand that's trailing behind her. Lanie and Esposito nod; Ryan crashes his hands onto the piano keys, giggling at the loud, dissonant sound it makes. Castle threads his fingers through Beckett's and she tugs on his hand with a smile.
The couch in his office isn't really wide enough for two but they make it work. Beckett's a snuggler when she's this tired and he wraps his arms around waist to keep her from falling to the floor.
[He's not sure how it happens, but when he wakes the next morning he's on the floor with his head on Ryan's feet, Lanie and Kate tucked in on the couch, and Esposito snoring in his desk chair. He's never been so uncomfortable in his life. But it feels nice.]