But...but...but...where are the burgers?!? (open)
As bad dates went, it wasn't half bad.
Rick was willing to admit he'd been an ass...but that was nothing unusual. In all likelihood, Amanda deserved better. Really, she hadn't been that bad, no matter what he told Beckett. She was lovely, witty, intelligent, a catch and a half.
And now she had Pinup Boy, the man whose name Rick was making a point of forgetting. Not that he was jealous or anything, because he wasn't. After all, he had called Amanda.
And Kate had called Pinup Boy.
The breadcrumb trail led straight to a conclusion he could already see, but Rick wasn't ready to follow it just yet. Sure, Kate was a dish. Sure, she was a regular PITA, and with just the right amount of smarts and bitch to make it fun. Sure, she didn't put up with his crap...but she just wasn't interested. Anyway, it was pretty superficial. It wasn't like she was the one great love of his life or anything...even if it was pretty cute the way she walked around like she didn't see a blessed thing...
The elevator pinged open just then, and like the gentleman he was he stood aside for Beckett to allow her past.
"Ladies first."
"Spare me, Castle..."
Still, she smiled and moved out ahead of him into the lobby. He followed her out...
...and into broad daylight in the great outdoors.
Blinking, he squinted and raised a hand against the harsh, unyielding glare of the bright afternoon sunshine, wholly unprepared for the invasion of daytime in the middle of the fricking night.
"What in the world?..."
Turning, he spun in a slow circle and tried to get his head on the city street he'd walked out on...a little on the rural side, but paved and full of stores, as well as people.
People with floppy dark hair and dark blue eyes he knew from the mirror...
His hand came down slowly as he took in the man that stood right in his path, a version of himself in desperate need of a haircut. And a fashion consultant, based on the fact that he paired a ratty old brown duster with jeans and a t-shirt, a combination that just wasn't flattering on him. Them.
The guy looked like him.
"What'd you do with Beckett?" he asked at the same time the other man asked "What are you doin' with my face?"
Twin fingers lifted to point accusingly, and as they did Rick was fairly sure he was dead, Beckett was investigating his murder, and he had stepped into the innermost circle of Hell.
He was living in one of his own goddamn novels.
Rick was willing to admit he'd been an ass...but that was nothing unusual. In all likelihood, Amanda deserved better. Really, she hadn't been that bad, no matter what he told Beckett. She was lovely, witty, intelligent, a catch and a half.
And now she had Pinup Boy, the man whose name Rick was making a point of forgetting. Not that he was jealous or anything, because he wasn't. After all, he had called Amanda.
And Kate had called Pinup Boy.
The breadcrumb trail led straight to a conclusion he could already see, but Rick wasn't ready to follow it just yet. Sure, Kate was a dish. Sure, she was a regular PITA, and with just the right amount of smarts and bitch to make it fun. Sure, she didn't put up with his crap...but she just wasn't interested. Anyway, it was pretty superficial. It wasn't like she was the one great love of his life or anything...even if it was pretty cute the way she walked around like she didn't see a blessed thing...
The elevator pinged open just then, and like the gentleman he was he stood aside for Beckett to allow her past.
"Ladies first."
"Spare me, Castle..."
Still, she smiled and moved out ahead of him into the lobby. He followed her out...
...and into broad daylight in the great outdoors.
Blinking, he squinted and raised a hand against the harsh, unyielding glare of the bright afternoon sunshine, wholly unprepared for the invasion of daytime in the middle of the fricking night.
"What in the world?..."
Turning, he spun in a slow circle and tried to get his head on the city street he'd walked out on...a little on the rural side, but paved and full of stores, as well as people.
People with floppy dark hair and dark blue eyes he knew from the mirror...
His hand came down slowly as he took in the man that stood right in his path, a version of himself in desperate need of a haircut. And a fashion consultant, based on the fact that he paired a ratty old brown duster with jeans and a t-shirt, a combination that just wasn't flattering on him. Them.
The guy looked like him.
"What'd you do with Beckett?" he asked at the same time the other man asked "What are you doin' with my face?"
Twin fingers lifted to point accusingly, and as they did Rick was fairly sure he was dead, Beckett was investigating his murder, and he had stepped into the innermost circle of Hell.
He was living in one of his own goddamn novels.