(FIC) Thesaurus - 3/15
Title: Thesaurus
Chapter: 3 of 15: "Creep"
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Esposito, Castle, Beckett
Length: 998 words this chapter; 14,055 words total
Rating: PG-13 for alcohol consumption and mild language
Fic Summary: Every word has both a denotation and a connotation, but neither convey the word's real meaning. To discover that, you have to live life to the fullest.
( Previous, Chapter 2 - "Orc" )
creep (krēp) 1. v. to move slowly, stealthily, or servilely; 2. v. to feel as though insects are creeping on one’s skin, esp. under an unwavering stare; 3. n. a person, animal, or thing that creeps
Cops, particularly fine officers such as Detectives Ryan and Esposito, are rigorously trained to ensure that they don’t crack under the pressure that their job frequently entails. They are trained to shoot when necessary and not to be afraid of anything, no matter what, be it gang violence, serial killers, or rabid dogs. They are trained to bring even the most villainous of druggies, murderers, and hit men to their knees. They are trained to be nearly as cold-hearted as the killers they hunt.
They are not, however, trained to handle creepy women at charity events.
So when an investigation led Ryan, Esposito, Beckett, and Castle to a fundraising social event for a large nonprofit group, Ryan was completely defenseless against the steady stare of the tall, lanky woman in the corner who seemed to be watching him.
“Dude, this is seriously freaking me out,” Ryan whispered to Esposito, who was standing beside him.
“The calamari?” his partner asked innocently, holding the fried squid that he had almost put into his mouth .
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yes, the calamari is freaking me out. No, smart one, the creepy chick in the corner.”
“What creepy chick?”
“The one over there, being creepy!” Ryan hissed, exasperated. “You don’t see her?”
Esposito looked around the room once. “No, I don’t see a creepy chick.” He furrowed his brow in concern. “You sure you’re feeling okay, bro?”
“I’m fine,” Ryan sighed, tugging at the collar of his rented tuxedo. It was a little loose on him everywhere else, but the collar seemed to be strangling him. “She keeps staring…and not in a ‘checkin’ you out’ kind of way, either. Like she’s going to hunt me down, kill me in my sleep and feed my remains to her pet vultures or something."
Esposito shook his head, chuckling. “You’re being paranoid. She probably just thinks you’re lookin’ good or whatever. Thinks you’re cute.”
“She doesn’t, I’m telling you! This is…different.” He chewed his lip nervously. “Is she still looking?”
Esposito searched the crowd again and spotted a woman who was looking fixedly in their direction. “Is she wearing purple?” he asked, looking at Ryan, who nodded. Esposito surveyed the woman again, who made eye contact with him briefly before looking away, as though embarrassed to have been caught. “Yeah, she’s still looking.” Ryan made a low noise in his throat “You really that weirded out over it?” he asked, concern evident in his tone.
“I just wish she’d, I dunno, either go away or come over here and say something, so she’s not just like a creepy stalker person.”
“You want to talk to her?”
“Well no,” Ryan admitted, “but it’d be better than her staring. I’d rather she just went away. Where the hell's Beckett when you need her? That woman scares mobsters; she'd be useful right about now..." He drummed his fingers on the refreshment table anxiously.
"She's interviewing the event sponsor. Or, at least, that's where she said she was going. Who knows, she and Castle might have found an empty hallway to, uhm--" he made air-quotation marks "--'conduct their interview'. Hell, they might even be under a table by now." He kicked the tablecloth where it touched the floor. "I mean, did you see what she was wearing?! It was even skimpier than the last one! I'm starting to think Castle makes her come to these events just so he can pick out what she wears."
"Yeah," Ryan murmured, and Esposito had the distinct impression that his partner hadn't heard a word he had said. Ryan breathed shakily and closed his eyes. "Is she still looking?"
Esposito considered the nervous look on Ryan's face pensively, an idea hatching in his mind. He set down his drink and reached for Ryan’s hand, threading their fingers together and leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“Go with it,” he breathed. “Make it look natural.”
In one swift, fluid movement, Esposito pulled him into the center of the dance floor and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist possessively.
“What are you doing?!” Ryan hissed in Esposito’s ear, moving closer to him as he felt the shocked eyes of the other partygoers on his back.
“Getting her to leave you alone,” the darker one murmured gently, pulling Ryan closer to him. They swayed slowly to the music, falling into an easy rhythm, their cheeks pressed together. Slowly, Ryan’s arms moved to encircle first his partner’s elbows, then shoulders, then neck.
“So,” Ryan said softly, “you wanna talk about football or something?” Esposito laughed and put gentle pressure on Ryan’s waist. Ryan heart did a little flip as much at the low, melodious sound as at the touch, and he found that he couldn’t help laughing softly as well.
After a little while, the awkwardness between them vanished and, despite the fact that the creepy woman in purple had left, disappointed, less than a minute after Esposito had first taken Ryan’s hand, they danced for just under an hour, talking about nearly everything and laughing more than either of them ever had at work.
“Your little babies are all grown up,” the writer murmured, leaning over to his date. Beckett (Kate, she reminded herself, not Beckett) sighed heavily.
“My ‘little babies’?” she repeated. “They’re big boys, Castle, they can handle themselves. They are perfectly capable of-”
“-canvassingand making goo-goo eyes at the same time?” Castle interrupted, raising an eyebrow at her. “Doesn’t it bother you that they haven’t told you, though? I mean, you’re their boss, aren’t you supposed to know everything about them?”
“Are you sure that they know it themselves?” she retorted, folding her arms across her chest. “But you’re right; it is my job to know everything. When they know... I'll know."
( Next, Chapter 4 - "Creep" )
Chapter: 3 of 15: "Creep"
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Esposito, Castle, Beckett
Length: 998 words this chapter; 14,055 words total
Rating: PG-13 for alcohol consumption and mild language
Fic Summary: Every word has both a denotation and a connotation, but neither convey the word's real meaning. To discover that, you have to live life to the fullest.
( Previous, Chapter 2 - "Orc" )
creep (krēp) 1. v. to move slowly, stealthily, or servilely; 2. v. to feel as though insects are creeping on one’s skin, esp. under an unwavering stare; 3. n. a person, animal, or thing that creeps
Cops, particularly fine officers such as Detectives Ryan and Esposito, are rigorously trained to ensure that they don’t crack under the pressure that their job frequently entails. They are trained to shoot when necessary and not to be afraid of anything, no matter what, be it gang violence, serial killers, or rabid dogs. They are trained to bring even the most villainous of druggies, murderers, and hit men to their knees. They are trained to be nearly as cold-hearted as the killers they hunt.
They are not, however, trained to handle creepy women at charity events.
So when an investigation led Ryan, Esposito, Beckett, and Castle to a fundraising social event for a large nonprofit group, Ryan was completely defenseless against the steady stare of the tall, lanky woman in the corner who seemed to be watching him.
“Dude, this is seriously freaking me out,” Ryan whispered to Esposito, who was standing beside him.
“The calamari?” his partner asked innocently, holding the fried squid that he had almost put into his mouth .
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yes, the calamari is freaking me out. No, smart one, the creepy chick in the corner.”
“What creepy chick?”
“The one over there, being creepy!” Ryan hissed, exasperated. “You don’t see her?”
Esposito looked around the room once. “No, I don’t see a creepy chick.” He furrowed his brow in concern. “You sure you’re feeling okay, bro?”
“I’m fine,” Ryan sighed, tugging at the collar of his rented tuxedo. It was a little loose on him everywhere else, but the collar seemed to be strangling him. “She keeps staring…and not in a ‘checkin’ you out’ kind of way, either. Like she’s going to hunt me down, kill me in my sleep and feed my remains to her pet vultures or something."
Esposito shook his head, chuckling. “You’re being paranoid. She probably just thinks you’re lookin’ good or whatever. Thinks you’re cute.”
“She doesn’t, I’m telling you! This is…different.” He chewed his lip nervously. “Is she still looking?”
Esposito searched the crowd again and spotted a woman who was looking fixedly in their direction. “Is she wearing purple?” he asked, looking at Ryan, who nodded. Esposito surveyed the woman again, who made eye contact with him briefly before looking away, as though embarrassed to have been caught. “Yeah, she’s still looking.” Ryan made a low noise in his throat “You really that weirded out over it?” he asked, concern evident in his tone.
“I just wish she’d, I dunno, either go away or come over here and say something, so she’s not just like a creepy stalker person.”
“You want to talk to her?”
“Well no,” Ryan admitted, “but it’d be better than her staring. I’d rather she just went away. Where the hell's Beckett when you need her? That woman scares mobsters; she'd be useful right about now..." He drummed his fingers on the refreshment table anxiously.
"She's interviewing the event sponsor. Or, at least, that's where she said she was going. Who knows, she and Castle might have found an empty hallway to, uhm--" he made air-quotation marks "--'conduct their interview'. Hell, they might even be under a table by now." He kicked the tablecloth where it touched the floor. "I mean, did you see what she was wearing?! It was even skimpier than the last one! I'm starting to think Castle makes her come to these events just so he can pick out what she wears."
"Yeah," Ryan murmured, and Esposito had the distinct impression that his partner hadn't heard a word he had said. Ryan breathed shakily and closed his eyes. "Is she still looking?"
Esposito considered the nervous look on Ryan's face pensively, an idea hatching in his mind. He set down his drink and reached for Ryan’s hand, threading their fingers together and leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“Go with it,” he breathed. “Make it look natural.”
In one swift, fluid movement, Esposito pulled him into the center of the dance floor and wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist possessively.
“What are you doing?!” Ryan hissed in Esposito’s ear, moving closer to him as he felt the shocked eyes of the other partygoers on his back.
“Getting her to leave you alone,” the darker one murmured gently, pulling Ryan closer to him. They swayed slowly to the music, falling into an easy rhythm, their cheeks pressed together. Slowly, Ryan’s arms moved to encircle first his partner’s elbows, then shoulders, then neck.
“So,” Ryan said softly, “you wanna talk about football or something?” Esposito laughed and put gentle pressure on Ryan’s waist. Ryan heart did a little flip as much at the low, melodious sound as at the touch, and he found that he couldn’t help laughing softly as well.
After a little while, the awkwardness between them vanished and, despite the fact that the creepy woman in purple had left, disappointed, less than a minute after Esposito had first taken Ryan’s hand, they danced for just under an hour, talking about nearly everything and laughing more than either of them ever had at work.
“Your little babies are all grown up,” the writer murmured, leaning over to his date. Beckett (Kate, she reminded herself, not Beckett) sighed heavily.
“My ‘little babies’?” she repeated. “They’re big boys, Castle, they can handle themselves. They are perfectly capable of-”
“-canvassingand making goo-goo eyes at the same time?” Castle interrupted, raising an eyebrow at her. “Doesn’t it bother you that they haven’t told you, though? I mean, you’re their boss, aren’t you supposed to know everything about them?”
“Are you sure that they know it themselves?” she retorted, folding her arms across her chest. “But you’re right; it is my job to know everything. When they know... I'll know."
( Next, Chapter 4 - "Creep" )