Castle fic: "The high crime of being Patsy Tamour"
crossposted to Castlebeckett
Title: The high crime of being Patsy Tamour (part one)
Author: Keenir.
Characters: Alexis Castle, Kate Beckett, Richard Castle, Owen,
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There's more than one way to skin an egg...or a novelist.
Disclaimer: If there is a real Patsy Tamour, I apologize. At the time of writing this, all characters within are fictional, and no resemblance with real people, institutions is intended.
Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, the characters, or the products from them.
Spoilers: series 1 finale, episodes 2.01-2.03
Author's Notes:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was cards night at the Castle household - poker this time - and while the Mayor and Judge were not in attendance, Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito were.
"Something the matter?" Esposito asked Castle - the man had been distracted and in a state of discomfort all day.
"Maybe his tailor short-sheeted him," Ryan suggested.
"Funny," Castle said, "and no. No, I...wait a minute, where's your date?"
"My date? Hold on, nobody said anything about needing a date to play cards."
"True, but after the tie, it's noticable, to say the least."
"He's got a point there," Esposito agreed.
"She's upstate visiting family," Ryan said.
"And you didn't get to go?" Castle asked. "That's an uh-oh."
"I have to work."
"And she doesn't," Castle noted. "Interestng."
"You get used to it," Alexis said. "Catch any interesting criminals lately, dad?"
"Very. And I believe I have the germ of an idea for the next Nikki Heat novel."
"That's great."
Looking at her cards, Beckett frowned. Then, "So, Castle, what's the real problem? With you?"
Ryan grinned, then wiped his face clean to hear what Castle had to say.
"Oh its just the latest review for Heat Wave," Castle said. "They said, and I quote, 'A fine story. If Patsy Tamour wrote novels, this is what she would write.'"
"Upset someone called it 'fine'?" Esposito asked.
"I wish that were the biggest problem with the review - if it was, I could sleep at night."
"He paces loud," Alexis said.
"What's the problem?" Beckett repeated. "Who's this Patsy Tamour?"
"Great author," Esposito said. "Writes short stories."
"I don't know," Ryan said. "I never liked her writing style."
"She's a short-story-writer," Castle said. "I'm a novelist. The two genres are nothing alike."
"Most people say it's harder to write something that short," Esposito said.
"You've never seen my mother's grocery list."
"Long and short of it is," Ryan said to Beckett while the other guys hashed it out over the merits of long- and short-writing, "Tamour's what you'd get if Tolkein and Carl Sagan had a lovechild who wrote Star Trek scripts."
"Some of her stuff has echoes of Lovecraft," Castle admitted.
Beckett was thankful (reasonably so) that her phone rang. "We got a murder," she said once she hung up.
"I know, I know," Alexis said to her dad, "you'll be out late."
"And even if I told you to be in bed by midnight," Castle replied, "you wouldn't listen."
"It's a school night," she reminded him.
"Right, like that's the only reason you'd turn in early."
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well it could be worse."
"Worse how, Castle?" Beckett asked.
"This could be a dark and stormy night."
For that, Detective Beckett stepped out from under the umbrella to walk in a careful arc around the fresh corpse, looking at it in the weak light afforded in this location square between two streetlamps, both of which were on their deathbeds luminosity-wise. She ignored the faint rain misting down from the heavens.
"Vic's wallet IDs him as Earl Gray," Esposito said, standing on the other side of the body. "Still got a credit card and all his cash."
"Not a mugging, then," Castle said.
"Not unless the mugger got scared and ran off."
"Without even stabbing the guy. Standards are so clearly dropping."
Beckett frowned; their conversation was shining light on something that was bothering her about this body. "Lanie still handling that murder in the park with Karposwki?"
"Yep," Esposito said. "And maybe its just the light, but I don't see any wounds."
"Poison, maybe?" Castle asked. "Nitrous oxide in the mouth?"
"Somebody's been watching Batman," Ryan said.
"Keating was the best," Beckett said, not quite under her breath.
Raising an eyebrow, Castle figured he still owed her one. So he asked, "Earl Gray?"
"Think I saw that name on an MPT program my sister taped for me," Ryan said. "Though his was g-r-e-y. And here's the news crew," and headed over to head off the first tv station van to arrive.
Beckett reached a spot a foot to the left of the top of the victim's head, a spot where she spotted an anomaly. "Castle, Esposito," she said, summoning them over. "Look," her left shoe pointing at where the grass had been pressed down.
"Somebody was here with our vic," Esposito said. "Crouched down, probably talking to him."
The onlookers had started to arrive, a few sodden joggers who'd stopped on the sidewalk long enough for Beckett to feel they deserved to be asked a few questions. She knew Castle's attention had wandered to follow along in her wake, but she kept quiet about it.
"Pt!"
Beckett stopped, and, tempting as it was, Castle resisted the urge to fufil the cliche of walking into her; instead, he pulled up alongside her. "Castle!"
"Yes?" Castle asked.
"Was that you?"
"Was what me?"
"The spitting. How many times does Lanie have to tell you not to contaminate crime scenes?"
"To be fair, it was only the once," Castle said. "And I never spat on a crime scene. I've never even spat on a lawn. Not even after drinking your precinct's fresh coffee. Come to think of it, that would be spitting up, not spitting, wouldn't it?"
"Yes or no, Castle," Beckett said.
"Hey Beckett," Esposito said.
Kate turned back towards the body, and seeing Esposito with his drawn, she drew her sidearm as well, shoving Castle behind her with a smooth motion of her leg. Instinct had her pointing where her fellow officers were...after a moment, Beckett blinked. He's not dead?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tbc.
Title: The high crime of being Patsy Tamour (part one)
Author: Keenir.
Characters: Alexis Castle, Kate Beckett, Richard Castle, Owen,
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There's more than one way to skin an egg...or a novelist.
Disclaimer: If there is a real Patsy Tamour, I apologize. At the time of writing this, all characters within are fictional, and no resemblance with real people, institutions is intended.
Disclaimer: I do not own Castle, the characters, or the products from them.
Spoilers: series 1 finale, episodes 2.01-2.03
Author's Notes:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was cards night at the Castle household - poker this time - and while the Mayor and Judge were not in attendance, Beckett, Ryan, and Esposito were.
"Something the matter?" Esposito asked Castle - the man had been distracted and in a state of discomfort all day.
"Maybe his tailor short-sheeted him," Ryan suggested.
"Funny," Castle said, "and no. No, I...wait a minute, where's your date?"
"My date? Hold on, nobody said anything about needing a date to play cards."
"True, but after the tie, it's noticable, to say the least."
"He's got a point there," Esposito agreed.
"She's upstate visiting family," Ryan said.
"And you didn't get to go?" Castle asked. "That's an uh-oh."
"I have to work."
"And she doesn't," Castle noted. "Interestng."
"You get used to it," Alexis said. "Catch any interesting criminals lately, dad?"
"Very. And I believe I have the germ of an idea for the next Nikki Heat novel."
"That's great."
Looking at her cards, Beckett frowned. Then, "So, Castle, what's the real problem? With you?"
Ryan grinned, then wiped his face clean to hear what Castle had to say.
"Oh its just the latest review for Heat Wave," Castle said. "They said, and I quote, 'A fine story. If Patsy Tamour wrote novels, this is what she would write.'"
"Upset someone called it 'fine'?" Esposito asked.
"I wish that were the biggest problem with the review - if it was, I could sleep at night."
"He paces loud," Alexis said.
"What's the problem?" Beckett repeated. "Who's this Patsy Tamour?"
"Great author," Esposito said. "Writes short stories."
"I don't know," Ryan said. "I never liked her writing style."
"She's a short-story-writer," Castle said. "I'm a novelist. The two genres are nothing alike."
"Most people say it's harder to write something that short," Esposito said.
"You've never seen my mother's grocery list."
"Long and short of it is," Ryan said to Beckett while the other guys hashed it out over the merits of long- and short-writing, "Tamour's what you'd get if Tolkein and Carl Sagan had a lovechild who wrote Star Trek scripts."
"Some of her stuff has echoes of Lovecraft," Castle admitted.
Beckett was thankful (reasonably so) that her phone rang. "We got a murder," she said once she hung up.
"I know, I know," Alexis said to her dad, "you'll be out late."
"And even if I told you to be in bed by midnight," Castle replied, "you wouldn't listen."
"It's a school night," she reminded him.
"Right, like that's the only reason you'd turn in early."
~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well it could be worse."
"Worse how, Castle?" Beckett asked.
"This could be a dark and stormy night."
For that, Detective Beckett stepped out from under the umbrella to walk in a careful arc around the fresh corpse, looking at it in the weak light afforded in this location square between two streetlamps, both of which were on their deathbeds luminosity-wise. She ignored the faint rain misting down from the heavens.
"Vic's wallet IDs him as Earl Gray," Esposito said, standing on the other side of the body. "Still got a credit card and all his cash."
"Not a mugging, then," Castle said.
"Not unless the mugger got scared and ran off."
"Without even stabbing the guy. Standards are so clearly dropping."
Beckett frowned; their conversation was shining light on something that was bothering her about this body. "Lanie still handling that murder in the park with Karposwki?"
"Yep," Esposito said. "And maybe its just the light, but I don't see any wounds."
"Poison, maybe?" Castle asked. "Nitrous oxide in the mouth?"
"Somebody's been watching Batman," Ryan said.
"Keating was the best," Beckett said, not quite under her breath.
Raising an eyebrow, Castle figured he still owed her one. So he asked, "Earl Gray?"
"Think I saw that name on an MPT program my sister taped for me," Ryan said. "Though his was g-r-e-y. And here's the news crew," and headed over to head off the first tv station van to arrive.
Beckett reached a spot a foot to the left of the top of the victim's head, a spot where she spotted an anomaly. "Castle, Esposito," she said, summoning them over. "Look," her left shoe pointing at where the grass had been pressed down.
"Somebody was here with our vic," Esposito said. "Crouched down, probably talking to him."
The onlookers had started to arrive, a few sodden joggers who'd stopped on the sidewalk long enough for Beckett to feel they deserved to be asked a few questions. She knew Castle's attention had wandered to follow along in her wake, but she kept quiet about it.
"Pt!"
Beckett stopped, and, tempting as it was, Castle resisted the urge to fufil the cliche of walking into her; instead, he pulled up alongside her. "Castle!"
"Yes?" Castle asked.
"Was that you?"
"Was what me?"
"The spitting. How many times does Lanie have to tell you not to contaminate crime scenes?"
"To be fair, it was only the once," Castle said. "And I never spat on a crime scene. I've never even spat on a lawn. Not even after drinking your precinct's fresh coffee. Come to think of it, that would be spitting up, not spitting, wouldn't it?"
"Yes or no, Castle," Beckett said.
"Hey Beckett," Esposito said.
Kate turned back towards the body, and seeing Esposito with his drawn, she drew her sidearm as well, shoving Castle behind her with a smooth motion of her leg. Instinct had her pointing where her fellow officers were...after a moment, Beckett blinked. He's not dead?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tbc.