(no subject)
On the other side of the island, dinosaurs roamed the earth. Well, the island if they were actually going to get anywhere near technical about this, but Jurassic Island was pretty much bound to be derivative and Crichton could do gorillas and dinosaurs and Castle liked to think he was better than that. He'd get there one day.
For now, Castle had other fish to fry. Namely, actual fish. He'd grabbed a good ol' pole from the woods, tied some string on it and now stood at the edge of a dock with his improvised fishing pole at the good ol' fishing hole (or ocean, again, technical, so very technical, the kinds of things that editors cared about).
"Now, you and me fish," he said to the still waters, though he was sure there was some real fine prey lurking down there, waiting for Rick Castle: Fish Hunter to get the best of them. "I've got nothing against you, but there's just something about a man catching his own food. It's primal. It's strong. It'll make me look like a man to Beckett," he said assuredly, before pausing. "Maybe."
Lifting up the stick and string, he adjusted the little hook he'd made and cast it back. Well, he did the first time and caught it in his shirt. And the second time in his pants. But the third time, oh yes, the third time, he got it properly over her shoulder and cast his line.
...straight to the surface of the water.
"I see the mechanics of fishing are more confounding than I first thought," he mused. "Alexis probably would have known this."
[On Webster's dock, being utterly incapable of fishing. Help him if you dare. Open tags until Thursday]
For now, Castle had other fish to fry. Namely, actual fish. He'd grabbed a good ol' pole from the woods, tied some string on it and now stood at the edge of a dock with his improvised fishing pole at the good ol' fishing hole (or ocean, again, technical, so very technical, the kinds of things that editors cared about).
"Now, you and me fish," he said to the still waters, though he was sure there was some real fine prey lurking down there, waiting for Rick Castle: Fish Hunter to get the best of them. "I've got nothing against you, but there's just something about a man catching his own food. It's primal. It's strong. It'll make me look like a man to Beckett," he said assuredly, before pausing. "Maybe."
Lifting up the stick and string, he adjusted the little hook he'd made and cast it back. Well, he did the first time and caught it in his shirt. And the second time in his pants. But the third time, oh yes, the third time, he got it properly over her shoulder and cast his line.
...straight to the surface of the water.
"I see the mechanics of fishing are more confounding than I first thought," he mused. "Alexis probably would have known this."
[On Webster's dock, being utterly incapable of fishing. Help him if you dare. Open tags until Thursday]