Fic--All That Counts is Here Right Now
I’m not really sure if I like how this turned out. I’ve been having some major writer’s block recently, and I’m clearly too lazy to write complete case!fic, so this can totally be considered a cop out.
Title: All That Counts is Here Right Now
Author: foreverwriting9
Characters/Pairings: Castle/Beckett, Esposito, Ryan, Lanie, quick mention of Joe and Vera
Spoilers: Set after The Blue Butterfly
Rating: G
Word Count: 760
Summary: A quick look at some moments between Castle and Beckett during a new case.
-
She goes home humming I can’t give you anything but love, and later that night she dreams of mobsters and PIs and treasure hunts.
The next day, (the next crime scene really, because Beckett doesn't keep track of things in terms of dates; she orients herself by using the victim of the week, the most recent person shot through the heart or stuffed in a pizza oven) while they're all staring at a decapitated head in an alleyway and desperately trying to figure out where the hell the rest of the body could be, Castle begins to hum to himself.
Esposito half turns and squints at Castle. "Bro, what is that? Sounds like something my grandmother would have danced to in a speakeasy."
Castle opens his mouth, but Beckett grins and answers for him. “It’s ‘I Can’t Give You Anything But Love’.”
Ryan and Esposito look at each other, bewildered.
"I have no idea what that is," Ryan mutters.
"Anyway," Lanie says, rolling her eyes and shifting uncomfortably in the chilly New York air. "I'm putting time of death around one last night, but because of the cold I could be a little off. I'll let you know if the timeline changes once I get Marie Antoinette over here back to the lab."
Castle smiles. "No need for a timeline. I know who did it."
Beckett rolls her eyes skyward, and her oh really is dripping with sarcasm.
Castle nods, and his eyes light up in way that practically screams that he has a joke resting against his tongue. "We're looking for a short, French man in a powdered wig, probably going by the name Robespierre."
Ryan crinkles his nose, and Beckett lets out a short laugh. "French revolutionary jokes, Castle? The well must be pretty dry today."
"It was all I could come up with on such short notice, Beckett. I'll think of some better ones later."
"I won't hold my breath," she says, and turns toward her car, smiling to herself as Castle falls into step beside her. (He notices.)
"I've had that song stuck in my head since we talked to Joe and Vera," he admits, his breath forming a cloud around his head. Beckett looks at him over the top of the car and smiles. "Me too." She cracks the car door open and slides into her seat. Castle does the same and then turns to look at her.
"You know, Detective, I always figured that you'd be a secret romantic, but that case really proved it for me."
"I'm an onion, remember, Castle? Many layers."
A week later, with the case solved and the bad guy on his way to jail, Castle walks into the precinct, coffee in hand, and marches up to Beckett's desk.
"Marie Antoinette, King Louis, and a courtier walk into a bar-"
Beckett holds up her hand. "Castle, that has the makings of a truly horrible joke. Coffee first."
He hands her the coffee cup, fingers brushing lightly against hers. Then he sits down in his chair and watches her take a sip. "Beckett, I spent a really long time coming up with these jokes."
She sets her cup down and raises an eyebrow at him. "You Googled them, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
Beckett watches him for a moment, weighing her choices. Castle just stares back at her, a half formed pout tugging at his lips. Beckett sighs. "All right, Castle, tell me the jokes."
He pauses, and it looks like he’s rolling a joke around inside his mouth like a fine wine. After a few seconds, he opens his mouth, starts to speak, but then stops suddenly and looks at Beckett sheepishly. "I can't, Beckett, they're really bad."
She laughs at him.
"Seriously, Beckett, there's a severe lack of French Revolution jokes out there. I'm thinking about writing my own."
“I’d be first in line to buy that book,” she says, smiling widely at him.
“I know you would,” he half whispers, and he looks at Beckett like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else (because he loves the precinct and the murder board and the coffee. He loves her.)
Later that night, Beckett dreams that Castle is whispering a never ending stream of jokes about guillotines into her ear. They’re supposed to be working a case in this dream, but he keeps distracting her, and the only way to shut him up is to shove him against a nearby wall and kiss him senseless.
Beckett wakes up laughing, and then tries not to think about how he makes her breathless.
Title: All That Counts is Here Right Now
Author: foreverwriting9
Characters/Pairings: Castle/Beckett, Esposito, Ryan, Lanie, quick mention of Joe and Vera
Spoilers: Set after The Blue Butterfly
Rating: G
Word Count: 760
Summary: A quick look at some moments between Castle and Beckett during a new case.
-
She goes home humming I can’t give you anything but love, and later that night she dreams of mobsters and PIs and treasure hunts.
The next day, (the next crime scene really, because Beckett doesn't keep track of things in terms of dates; she orients herself by using the victim of the week, the most recent person shot through the heart or stuffed in a pizza oven) while they're all staring at a decapitated head in an alleyway and desperately trying to figure out where the hell the rest of the body could be, Castle begins to hum to himself.
Esposito half turns and squints at Castle. "Bro, what is that? Sounds like something my grandmother would have danced to in a speakeasy."
Castle opens his mouth, but Beckett grins and answers for him. “It’s ‘I Can’t Give You Anything But Love’.”
Ryan and Esposito look at each other, bewildered.
"I have no idea what that is," Ryan mutters.
"Anyway," Lanie says, rolling her eyes and shifting uncomfortably in the chilly New York air. "I'm putting time of death around one last night, but because of the cold I could be a little off. I'll let you know if the timeline changes once I get Marie Antoinette over here back to the lab."
Castle smiles. "No need for a timeline. I know who did it."
Beckett rolls her eyes skyward, and her oh really is dripping with sarcasm.
Castle nods, and his eyes light up in way that practically screams that he has a joke resting against his tongue. "We're looking for a short, French man in a powdered wig, probably going by the name Robespierre."
Ryan crinkles his nose, and Beckett lets out a short laugh. "French revolutionary jokes, Castle? The well must be pretty dry today."
"It was all I could come up with on such short notice, Beckett. I'll think of some better ones later."
"I won't hold my breath," she says, and turns toward her car, smiling to herself as Castle falls into step beside her. (He notices.)
"I've had that song stuck in my head since we talked to Joe and Vera," he admits, his breath forming a cloud around his head. Beckett looks at him over the top of the car and smiles. "Me too." She cracks the car door open and slides into her seat. Castle does the same and then turns to look at her.
"You know, Detective, I always figured that you'd be a secret romantic, but that case really proved it for me."
"I'm an onion, remember, Castle? Many layers."
A week later, with the case solved and the bad guy on his way to jail, Castle walks into the precinct, coffee in hand, and marches up to Beckett's desk.
"Marie Antoinette, King Louis, and a courtier walk into a bar-"
Beckett holds up her hand. "Castle, that has the makings of a truly horrible joke. Coffee first."
He hands her the coffee cup, fingers brushing lightly against hers. Then he sits down in his chair and watches her take a sip. "Beckett, I spent a really long time coming up with these jokes."
She sets her cup down and raises an eyebrow at him. "You Googled them, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
Beckett watches him for a moment, weighing her choices. Castle just stares back at her, a half formed pout tugging at his lips. Beckett sighs. "All right, Castle, tell me the jokes."
He pauses, and it looks like he’s rolling a joke around inside his mouth like a fine wine. After a few seconds, he opens his mouth, starts to speak, but then stops suddenly and looks at Beckett sheepishly. "I can't, Beckett, they're really bad."
She laughs at him.
"Seriously, Beckett, there's a severe lack of French Revolution jokes out there. I'm thinking about writing my own."
“I’d be first in line to buy that book,” she says, smiling widely at him.
“I know you would,” he half whispers, and he looks at Beckett like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else (because he loves the precinct and the murder board and the coffee. He loves her.)
Later that night, Beckett dreams that Castle is whispering a never ending stream of jokes about guillotines into her ear. They’re supposed to be working a case in this dream, but he keeps distracting her, and the only way to shut him up is to shove him against a nearby wall and kiss him senseless.
Beckett wakes up laughing, and then tries not to think about how he makes her breathless.