(Untitled)

[mickandbono]

It’s been a while since Jamie found himself here. It’s not a bad surprise this time to find himself here his laptop in its case over his shoulder. Deadlines are the mark of Satan. He’s pretty sure if you checked that they would have tails and horns. He’ll have to write that story, maybe for the times under his pseudonym. After all you can’t have a

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[bestsellingego]

No sunburn this time, but that's a big check on the obnoxious vacation shirt. (This one's even got little printed pineapples on it.) Castle's at the bar when he sees his literary doppelgänger swagger in and take a seat at a table. It's still a little disconcerting to see this guy.

At this point, Castle's not sure if he should wave "hello" or call his shrink.

Then he sees the laptop.

"Big scoop?" he asks, by way of greeting.

[mickandbono]

Rook smiles as he sees the man. "Hi Richard, I don't know about that. It's the finishing touches of my Bono piece and considering a fluff piece"

[bestsellingego]

The Bono piece.

"I remember --" then he stops himself and backs up, like a train chunking gears to reverse directions "-- really liking The Joshua Tree." He gestures loosely to the laptop. "Hey, whatever pays the rent, right?"

Not that Jameson Rook has to worry about paying the rent. Castle's made sure of that.

[mickandbono]

"Yeah, it was a good album. I'm thinking of writing how deadlines are the workings of Satan. But I do believe I'll publish it under my pseudonym, I don't want people to think I worry about deadlines."

He gives an arrogant sniff and then sighs and we're sure Castle would love Rooks pseudonym

[bestsellingego]

Jameson Rook doesn't worry about deadlines. Jameson Rook worries about whether or not his pocket handkerchief coordinates with his socks. Jameson Rook worries that there won't be enough top shelf vodka when he circles back around to the bar after the fifth or sixth book signing, and the terror of having to settle for (gasp!) well vodka.

Castle swings around on the bar stool. "Deadlines aren't Satan's handiwork," he says. "I'm pretty sure they're Satan's publicist's doing. Bureaucracy: the Seventh Circle of Hell."

[mickandbono]

That earns hims a chuckle as he sips his coffee and nods. Then frowns in to it why did this wonderful bar give him monkey piss. He know it can do Kona's best. He's had it here.

"You may be right. And I don't have one of those. I work for me. I go where I want to go. Do what I want. The beauty of being a journalist not a novelist."

[bestsellingego]

Castle clamps his back teeth down in a makeshift grin. Literary characters have all the fun.

He heaves himself off the bar stool and over to the booth.

"How's the ride-along going?"

[mickandbono]

"It's going okay. She hates me but I think I am starting to wear her down some. Lucky me the mayor thinks it's good PR."

[bestsellingego]

"Coffee," Castle supplies, then offers a half grin and some further explanation. "Bring her coffee in the morning. 'Bet she'd like that."

[mickandbono]

Rook nods as he thinks about it. "Okay, thanks for the idea, I have a great little shop near my loft."

[bestsellingego]

"Actually, there's this great little café, like, a block away from the precinct. You get there early enough, you can get scones. And it's got this cinnamon caramel latte that she really --"

watch yourself there, man, you're blurring reality and...whatever

"-- nevermind. Your place sounds good, too."

[mickandbono]

He nods and has been typing all of that as Castle told him then copies and pastes it in to a file.

"Yeah, well I will do both see what works the best. Anything is better then cop coffee."

[bestsellingego]

Castle exhales slowly. "God, tell me about it. It's like the stuff they scrape out of the bottom of body bags."

[mickandbono]

"Exactly, I think it can eat a hole in your stomach. It's why cops are sometimes grumpy I think."

[bestsellingego]

"You should write about that," Castle suggests good-naturedly. "Get the mayor to spring for better coffee in the break room and watch the crime in New York go down by half."

[mickandbono]

Rook laughs softly. "That could do it. I might do that as my weekly fluff to the times. That and better guest chairs."