aethre
in
castle_fic
Fic: Fangirl
Title: Fangirl
Characters/Pairings: Kate Beckett and Rick Castle
Genre: Humour and a little bit of crack
Word Count: ~1000
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None. Unless fangirl!Beckett disturbs you.
Spoiler alert: None, really. Inspired, sorta, by Suicide Squeeze and vague references to other episodes.
Summary: Buzzed on wine, high on Castle’s delicious smut scenes, Kate Beckett fires up Word and indulges in her own guilty pleasure.
Author's Notes: Strangely enough, this was the first fic ever (as far as I can tell) to be posted publicly to Google Wave. Beta'd by Sarah and I'm officially blaming this all on her.
Crossposted: FF.Net, my wordpress blog and Google Wave
It was two am and Katherine Beckett could not sleep. Not an uncommon occurrence - her all nighters spent staring at the murder board, followed by power naps in the break room, (and that time she broke into the Captain’s office and passed out on his much more comfortable couch) were a bit of a legend in the Twelfth Precinct. But it wasn’t murder keeping Beckett awake that night.
No.
It was far more frustrating problem. And it was all Castle’s fault.
The relaxing bubble bath with wine, scented candles and soft, ambient music, while perhaps a good idea for unwinding after a long day of paperwork with none of Castle’s antics, turned out to be not-so-relaxing when she hauled in her collection Richard Castle’s novels. Even that, though, would not have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that the wine went straight to her head (or maybe a little farther south) and she started her own Castle smutathon.
And so, by the time the water cooled, Kate Beckett had spent over an hour in the bath reading in chronological order, of course, Castle’s twenty-six (seven, including Heat Wave) bestsellers (plus the ones that didn’t sell quite so well) purely for the sex scenes.
Yeah.
Bad idea.
Especially, Kate rolled over and groaned into her pillow, since I used to wear off this Castlelust by writing smutty Derrick Storm fic.
But, no, Kate Beckett was not going to lower herself to writing fanfiction for books written by a man she saw damn near every day. It was bad enough knowing that she had written them in the past, and even posted them to the internet (on multiple sites, even!), but she was certainly not going to lower herself to writing them again.
Especially since, as soon as Castle started following her around, she had mass deleted all of the fanfiction she had ever written about his characters. Sadly, her resolve had only lasted a week - she had caved to the online peer pressure and reposted all of the fics, mostly to prove that she wasn’t one of the fans who vowed to Never Read Richard Castle Again Since He Killed Off Derrick Storm.
End result? She was still active in the Castle communities and had watched the explosion of fic that had followed the release of Heat Wave. It was alarming. People really liked the Nikki Heat character - there were, of course, the obligatory Nikki Heat bashfics (briiiiing Derrick Storm baaaack!), but overall, the authors seemed to revel in her literary alter ego.
Kate sighed and beat her fist into her pillow. Clearly she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, and her friends had been clamouring for some Heat/Rook smut from her… How hard could it be to write about Nikki Heat? She knew as much, more even, about the character as Castle did. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t figure out Rook.
Oh, God.
She was not seriously considering writing for a ship that was, for all intents and purposes, her and Castle.
But Castle did, her traitorous mind pointed out. He clearly has no problems with our alter egos getting it on.
Ultimately, that was what convinced Kate to boot up her laptop, pour herself another glass of wine and open Word. She stared at the blank document, feeling more embarrassed than the first time she wrote a Castle smut fic - and that had been years upon years ago before there was even a hint of Derrick Storm on the horizon. She took a large swallow of wine for fortification and, shuddering, she began to write.
Nikki Heat smirked inwardly as she swept, fashionably late, into Rook’s magazine’s cocktail party. The formfitting wine red dress, accented in gold, drew looks and the lithe, athletic form it cased kept the gazes on Nikki. Despite all of the admiring stares, Nikki felt Rook’s eyes on her and she turned to face him with a saucy smile. Rook’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he absently set his champagne glass on a nearby table. The air between the two smouldered and the other partygoers unconsciously cleared a direct route to Nikki for Rook….
-
“Good morning, Beckett!” Castle swivelled around in a chair - her chair - with a beatific grin on his face. “Coffee?”
Kate growled faintly, accepted the coffee and glared, annoyed by Castle’s perpetual chair stealing. Castle looked blankly up at her for a moment before the flash of understanding went across his face. The man either never bothered to hide his emotions or had inherited more than his charm and flair from the dramatic from his mother.
Seemingly in response to her thoughts (perhaps he inherited the psychic powers as well?), Castle had leapt up and held out her chair in a gentlemanly manner. With a small smile and a mostly feigned suspicious look, Beckett sank gracefully into her seat and Castle gallantly rolled her forward. She raised an eyebrow at his antics and he just smiled and gave an extravagant bow.
“My, my Beckett, are those bags under your lovely eyes? Were you up all night? Was it murder? I’m hurt - why didn’t you call me?” Castle’s shocked air turned lascivious and he leaned in, “Or was it a man?”
Beckett rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”
Castle gasped, one hand flying to his heart. “It was a woman! Why didn’t you call me, Beckett?”
Beckett huffed, “Don’t flatter yourself, Castle. What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“I woke up early this morning - really early - five am early - and I have finally managed to bypass Alexis’ parental controls on my-” Castle started.
“Ah!” Beckett held up a hand. “I do not need to hear any more!”
“No, no,” Castle said, “You’ve got it all wrong - the parental controls weren’t for, uh, adult sites (why would I need those anyway?), they were for the Castle fansites.”
“The Castle fansites?” Beckett said blankly.
“Yes! And in the year I’ve been away, there has been a veritable explosion of activity! My favourite author-”
“Favourite author?”
“Of fanfiction. It turns out that she had deleted all of her stories, but not because of the killing off Derrick Storm thing, and reposted it in the time I’ve been away. She hadn’t written anything new, though, until just this morning (it was fate, I swear!) and, whew, let me tell you, that was one hot scene between Heat and Rook.” Castle sighed happily. “I really wish I could meet this woman.”
Kate Beckett just stared at him in horror.
Characters/Pairings: Kate Beckett and Rick Castle
Genre: Humour and a little bit of crack
Word Count: ~1000
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None. Unless fangirl!Beckett disturbs you.
Spoiler alert: None, really. Inspired, sorta, by Suicide Squeeze and vague references to other episodes.
Summary: Buzzed on wine, high on Castle’s delicious smut scenes, Kate Beckett fires up Word and indulges in her own guilty pleasure.
Author's Notes: Strangely enough, this was the first fic ever (as far as I can tell) to be posted publicly to Google Wave. Beta'd by Sarah and I'm officially blaming this all on her.
Crossposted: FF.Net, my wordpress blog and Google Wave
It was two am and Katherine Beckett could not sleep. Not an uncommon occurrence - her all nighters spent staring at the murder board, followed by power naps in the break room, (and that time she broke into the Captain’s office and passed out on his much more comfortable couch) were a bit of a legend in the Twelfth Precinct. But it wasn’t murder keeping Beckett awake that night.
No.
It was far more frustrating problem. And it was all Castle’s fault.
The relaxing bubble bath with wine, scented candles and soft, ambient music, while perhaps a good idea for unwinding after a long day of paperwork with none of Castle’s antics, turned out to be not-so-relaxing when she hauled in her collection Richard Castle’s novels. Even that, though, would not have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that the wine went straight to her head (or maybe a little farther south) and she started her own Castle smutathon.
And so, by the time the water cooled, Kate Beckett had spent over an hour in the bath reading in chronological order, of course, Castle’s twenty-six (seven, including Heat Wave) bestsellers (plus the ones that didn’t sell quite so well) purely for the sex scenes.
Yeah.
Bad idea.
Especially, Kate rolled over and groaned into her pillow, since I used to wear off this Castlelust by writing smutty Derrick Storm fic.
But, no, Kate Beckett was not going to lower herself to writing fanfiction for books written by a man she saw damn near every day. It was bad enough knowing that she had written them in the past, and even posted them to the internet (on multiple sites, even!), but she was certainly not going to lower herself to writing them again.
Especially since, as soon as Castle started following her around, she had mass deleted all of the fanfiction she had ever written about his characters. Sadly, her resolve had only lasted a week - she had caved to the online peer pressure and reposted all of the fics, mostly to prove that she wasn’t one of the fans who vowed to Never Read Richard Castle Again Since He Killed Off Derrick Storm.
End result? She was still active in the Castle communities and had watched the explosion of fic that had followed the release of Heat Wave. It was alarming. People really liked the Nikki Heat character - there were, of course, the obligatory Nikki Heat bashfics (briiiiing Derrick Storm baaaack!), but overall, the authors seemed to revel in her literary alter ego.
Kate sighed and beat her fist into her pillow. Clearly she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, and her friends had been clamouring for some Heat/Rook smut from her… How hard could it be to write about Nikki Heat? She knew as much, more even, about the character as Castle did. And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t figure out Rook.
Oh, God.
She was not seriously considering writing for a ship that was, for all intents and purposes, her and Castle.
But Castle did, her traitorous mind pointed out. He clearly has no problems with our alter egos getting it on.
Ultimately, that was what convinced Kate to boot up her laptop, pour herself another glass of wine and open Word. She stared at the blank document, feeling more embarrassed than the first time she wrote a Castle smut fic - and that had been years upon years ago before there was even a hint of Derrick Storm on the horizon. She took a large swallow of wine for fortification and, shuddering, she began to write.
Nikki Heat smirked inwardly as she swept, fashionably late, into Rook’s magazine’s cocktail party. The formfitting wine red dress, accented in gold, drew looks and the lithe, athletic form it cased kept the gazes on Nikki. Despite all of the admiring stares, Nikki felt Rook’s eyes on her and she turned to face him with a saucy smile. Rook’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he absently set his champagne glass on a nearby table. The air between the two smouldered and the other partygoers unconsciously cleared a direct route to Nikki for Rook….
-
“Good morning, Beckett!” Castle swivelled around in a chair - her chair - with a beatific grin on his face. “Coffee?”
Kate growled faintly, accepted the coffee and glared, annoyed by Castle’s perpetual chair stealing. Castle looked blankly up at her for a moment before the flash of understanding went across his face. The man either never bothered to hide his emotions or had inherited more than his charm and flair from the dramatic from his mother.
Seemingly in response to her thoughts (perhaps he inherited the psychic powers as well?), Castle had leapt up and held out her chair in a gentlemanly manner. With a small smile and a mostly feigned suspicious look, Beckett sank gracefully into her seat and Castle gallantly rolled her forward. She raised an eyebrow at his antics and he just smiled and gave an extravagant bow.
“My, my Beckett, are those bags under your lovely eyes? Were you up all night? Was it murder? I’m hurt - why didn’t you call me?” Castle’s shocked air turned lascivious and he leaned in, “Or was it a man?”
Beckett rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”
Castle gasped, one hand flying to his heart. “It was a woman! Why didn’t you call me, Beckett?”
Beckett huffed, “Don’t flatter yourself, Castle. What’s got you in such a good mood?”
“I woke up early this morning - really early - five am early - and I have finally managed to bypass Alexis’ parental controls on my-” Castle started.
“Ah!” Beckett held up a hand. “I do not need to hear any more!”
“No, no,” Castle said, “You’ve got it all wrong - the parental controls weren’t for, uh, adult sites (why would I need those anyway?), they were for the Castle fansites.”
“The Castle fansites?” Beckett said blankly.
“Yes! And in the year I’ve been away, there has been a veritable explosion of activity! My favourite author-”
“Favourite author?”
“Of fanfiction. It turns out that she had deleted all of her stories, but not because of the killing off Derrick Storm thing, and reposted it in the time I’ve been away. She hadn’t written anything new, though, until just this morning (it was fate, I swear!) and, whew, let me tell you, that was one hot scene between Heat and Rook.” Castle sighed happily. “I really wish I could meet this woman.”
Kate Beckett just stared at him in horror.