(FIC) Thesaurus - 12/15
Title: Thesaurus
Chapter: 12 of 15: "Slicko, Slick"
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Esposito, Castle, Beckett
Length: 917 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 11 - "Skexy" )
“…slicko, slick…”
slick (slĭk) adj. marked by skill in deception; crafty, cunning; v. 1. to make slippery, as with ice or grease; 2. to give a smooth and glossy texture or appearance
“Whoa-ho, there, Detective Ryan, something is definitely different.”
Ryan smiled at the writer who had done a complete one-eighty when he had spotted him. “Yes,” he said encouragingly, “something is different.”
“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Castle said mysteriously. “You…got a haircut.”
“Nope.”
“New skin toner?”
“Strike two.”
“Bro, what is in your hair?!”
Castle whirled around to spot the source of the exclamation. Esposito stood in the break room doorway, staring at the top of Ryan’s head.
“Oooooh,” Castle murmured, “not a new cut, just a new style, am I right?”
“Because Esposito definitely didn’t give it away,” Ryan muttered. Castle gestured to his own head and then gave Ryan the thumbs up. Ryan beamed at Castle’s gesticulations, glad that the multi-millionaire and undeniable chick-magnet had given his approval to the new style.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Esposito pressed once Castle had sauntered off to claim “his” chair beside Beckett’s desk and go through all her paperwork before she had a chance to walk in and catch him at it.
“It’s gel,” Ryan replied, touching the top of his slicked style tenderly, afraid to ruin it. “It took freaking forever, too.”
Esposito frowned and opened his mouth to comment when Beckett walked briskly past, calling “CASTLE! OFF MY DESK!”
Ryan chuckled. “It’s always so intense when she yells at him. So… passionate.”
“Mmmmhmmm,” Esposito hummed in agreement. “Makes me wonder exactly how much of her passion he’s really receiving, you know? Whether she’s always angry when she screams his name like that…” His pitch jumped at least an octave in an attempt at female imitation. “Castle!” he squealed with the appropriate (or, inappropriate) facial expression. “Castle! Oh, Castle!”
Beckett’s head snapped up. Apparently she had heard. And was not amused.
“Do you guys really not get how totally inappropriate stuff like that is?!” Beckett was still on her why-we-shouldn’t-insinuate-that-she-and-Castle-are-having-sexual-relations tirade, having pulled both Ryan and Esposito into Montgomery’s office. Castle had his nose pressed to the window, but between her steady blush and flustered air, she had hardly stopped to notice.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan muttered, not meeting her eye.
“We’re sorry,” Esposito said, not quite as abashed as his partner. Suddenly, he changed tactics, lowering his voice slightly. “Come on, Beckett,” he sighed, “what’s the big deal? I mean, we know you like him, we know he likes you, he’s writing a whole book series about you, he’s totally loaded, he lives in a freaking mansion by Manhattan standards, he’s single-“
“-for now,” Ryan cut in, still not meeting her eye.
“-so why can’t the two of you just get together already and save the rest of us a ton of headaches?”
Beckett’s jaw fell open and she gaped at Esposito who stood, smirking, with his arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised. By the faint whooshing noises she made as she fought to find words to say in response, it sounded as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Seizing his opportunity, Esposito grabbed Ryan by the wrist and dragged him back into the hall.
At the touch, Ryan’s bones melted into a little puddle of goo and a pink tinge spread across his cheeks. He didn’t have the willpower to resist the pull, so he muttered “Sorry, Beckett” as he turned his back to her and followed his partner out into the hall. He had almost closed the door behind him when he was stopped by a strangled “Ryan.”
“Yes?” he said, poking his head back into the office to see Beckett regaining her composure. She cleared her throat before speaking.
“I…I like the hair.”
Ryan grinned. “Thanks,” he said happily, nodding before closing the door.
Had he known that he would get so many compliments, he would have gelled his hair much sooner. Not a single person passed his desk without saying something about it, and not a single person had anything negative to say. He spent the day light and buoyant, bouncing from one compliment to the next, his mood lifted by each one. The work day, consequently, flew by. By closing time that evening, he was positively radiant, which only served to contrast that much more sharply with Esposito’s ho-hum mood in the quiet of the empty bullpen.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Ryan said softly, “what’s wrong?” He laid a hand on his partner’s shoulder and fought the urge to hug him.
“Long day,” Esposito replied. “Too much work and not enough time to do it.”
“Really?” Ryan asked, frowning. “I thought today went well.”
“Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause you’re the precinct’s new poster boy. You may as well start modeling, bro.”
Ryan grinned. “You think?” He opened his mouth to continue but caught Esposito’s roll of the eyes and thought better of it. “Hey, Espo… you haven’t given me your opinion on the new style.”
“You haven’t asked.”
Ryan sighed. “Okay, fine. What do you think of it?”
Esposito looked up, momentarily ceasing his tidying of his desk. Their eyes met and suddenly Ryan’s chipper mood vanished. “It’s just not you, bro,” Esposito murmured. “It looks good and all, but…that’s not the Kevin I know. I just wish you’d be yourself. You look best that way.”
That was the first and last time Kevin Ryan ever applied any gel-like hair products.
( Next, Chapter 13 - "Mope" )
Chapter: 12 of 15: "Slicko, Slick"
Characters/pairings: Ryan/Esposito, Castle, Beckett
Length: 917 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 11 - "Skexy" )
“…slicko, slick…”
slick (slĭk) adj. marked by skill in deception; crafty, cunning; v. 1. to make slippery, as with ice or grease; 2. to give a smooth and glossy texture or appearance
“Whoa-ho, there, Detective Ryan, something is definitely different.”
Ryan smiled at the writer who had done a complete one-eighty when he had spotted him. “Yes,” he said encouragingly, “something is different.”
“Don’t tell me, let me guess,” Castle said mysteriously. “You…got a haircut.”
“Nope.”
“New skin toner?”
“Strike two.”
“Bro, what is in your hair?!”
Castle whirled around to spot the source of the exclamation. Esposito stood in the break room doorway, staring at the top of Ryan’s head.
“Oooooh,” Castle murmured, “not a new cut, just a new style, am I right?”
“Because Esposito definitely didn’t give it away,” Ryan muttered. Castle gestured to his own head and then gave Ryan the thumbs up. Ryan beamed at Castle’s gesticulations, glad that the multi-millionaire and undeniable chick-magnet had given his approval to the new style.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Esposito pressed once Castle had sauntered off to claim “his” chair beside Beckett’s desk and go through all her paperwork before she had a chance to walk in and catch him at it.
“It’s gel,” Ryan replied, touching the top of his slicked style tenderly, afraid to ruin it. “It took freaking forever, too.”
Esposito frowned and opened his mouth to comment when Beckett walked briskly past, calling “CASTLE! OFF MY DESK!”
Ryan chuckled. “It’s always so intense when she yells at him. So… passionate.”
“Mmmmhmmm,” Esposito hummed in agreement. “Makes me wonder exactly how much of her passion he’s really receiving, you know? Whether she’s always angry when she screams his name like that…” His pitch jumped at least an octave in an attempt at female imitation. “Castle!” he squealed with the appropriate (or, inappropriate) facial expression. “Castle! Oh, Castle!”
Beckett’s head snapped up. Apparently she had heard. And was not amused.
“Do you guys really not get how totally inappropriate stuff like that is?!” Beckett was still on her why-we-shouldn’t-insinuate-that-she-and-Castle-are-having-sexual-relations tirade, having pulled both Ryan and Esposito into Montgomery’s office. Castle had his nose pressed to the window, but between her steady blush and flustered air, she had hardly stopped to notice.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan muttered, not meeting her eye.
“We’re sorry,” Esposito said, not quite as abashed as his partner. Suddenly, he changed tactics, lowering his voice slightly. “Come on, Beckett,” he sighed, “what’s the big deal? I mean, we know you like him, we know he likes you, he’s writing a whole book series about you, he’s totally loaded, he lives in a freaking mansion by Manhattan standards, he’s single-“
“-for now,” Ryan cut in, still not meeting her eye.
“-so why can’t the two of you just get together already and save the rest of us a ton of headaches?”
Beckett’s jaw fell open and she gaped at Esposito who stood, smirking, with his arms folded across his chest, one eyebrow raised. By the faint whooshing noises she made as she fought to find words to say in response, it sounded as though the wind had been knocked out of her. Seizing his opportunity, Esposito grabbed Ryan by the wrist and dragged him back into the hall.
At the touch, Ryan’s bones melted into a little puddle of goo and a pink tinge spread across his cheeks. He didn’t have the willpower to resist the pull, so he muttered “Sorry, Beckett” as he turned his back to her and followed his partner out into the hall. He had almost closed the door behind him when he was stopped by a strangled “Ryan.”
“Yes?” he said, poking his head back into the office to see Beckett regaining her composure. She cleared her throat before speaking.
“I…I like the hair.”
Ryan grinned. “Thanks,” he said happily, nodding before closing the door.
Had he known that he would get so many compliments, he would have gelled his hair much sooner. Not a single person passed his desk without saying something about it, and not a single person had anything negative to say. He spent the day light and buoyant, bouncing from one compliment to the next, his mood lifted by each one. The work day, consequently, flew by. By closing time that evening, he was positively radiant, which only served to contrast that much more sharply with Esposito’s ho-hum mood in the quiet of the empty bullpen.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Ryan said softly, “what’s wrong?” He laid a hand on his partner’s shoulder and fought the urge to hug him.
“Long day,” Esposito replied. “Too much work and not enough time to do it.”
“Really?” Ryan asked, frowning. “I thought today went well.”
“Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause you’re the precinct’s new poster boy. You may as well start modeling, bro.”
Ryan grinned. “You think?” He opened his mouth to continue but caught Esposito’s roll of the eyes and thought better of it. “Hey, Espo… you haven’t given me your opinion on the new style.”
“You haven’t asked.”
Ryan sighed. “Okay, fine. What do you think of it?”
Esposito looked up, momentarily ceasing his tidying of his desk. Their eyes met and suddenly Ryan’s chipper mood vanished. “It’s just not you, bro,” Esposito murmured. “It looks good and all, but…that’s not the Kevin I know. I just wish you’d be yourself. You look best that way.”
That was the first and last time Kevin Ryan ever applied any gel-like hair products.
( Next, Chapter 13 - "Mope" )