{Arrival}
When Richard Castle came to consciousness, he immediately knew that something was wrong. The bed underneath him wasn't his own, and it wasn't Kate's either. It was entirely unfamiliar. Without opening his eyes, he stretched a hand across the bed under the sheets. No one was in bed with him, that was a positive sign. He was pretty sure no amount of alcohol could convince him to cheat on Beckett, but it was nice to have confirmation of that. However, that still didn't explain where he was.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. It was a hotel room, but again, not one he recognized. It seemed like a quaint room, not exactly his taste, but not intolerable either. He sat up and looked around. He was dressed in jogging pants and a T-shirt, his usual sleep attire when Beckett wasn't staying the night. He distinctly remembered going to bed at home last night, and his mind wasn't fuzzy like it usually was when he had a hangover.
His slippers were next to the bed, just like at home, and he stood and explored his room a bit. It seemed that some of his belongings were here, but he couldn't remember bringing them or ever being in this hotel before. He opened the door to his room and ventured out into the hallway, looking around.
Eventually he made his way to what must be the hotel lobby, though no employees seemed to be around. How would he even approach them anyway? "Oh hi, I have no memory of how I got here, and no idea where here is exactly, would you help me?" Sure, that would get him a one-way ticket to the looney bin.
But maybe he could approach someone and start a conversation, glean some clues as to what was going on. He made a slow turn around the lobby, trying to decide where to start.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. It was a hotel room, but again, not one he recognized. It seemed like a quaint room, not exactly his taste, but not intolerable either. He sat up and looked around. He was dressed in jogging pants and a T-shirt, his usual sleep attire when Beckett wasn't staying the night. He distinctly remembered going to bed at home last night, and his mind wasn't fuzzy like it usually was when he had a hangover.
His slippers were next to the bed, just like at home, and he stood and explored his room a bit. It seemed that some of his belongings were here, but he couldn't remember bringing them or ever being in this hotel before. He opened the door to his room and ventured out into the hallway, looking around.
Eventually he made his way to what must be the hotel lobby, though no employees seemed to be around. How would he even approach them anyway? "Oh hi, I have no memory of how I got here, and no idea where here is exactly, would you help me?" Sure, that would get him a one-way ticket to the looney bin.
But maybe he could approach someone and start a conversation, glean some clues as to what was going on. He made a slow turn around the lobby, trying to decide where to start.