CASTLE

Flowers For Your Grave - Chapter 6

Beckett was now stuck in a stuffy old room in the precinct with Richard Castle. Under normal circumstances she would have loved to interact with the author who helped her through such an important phase in her life. However, what she had not known before is that he was such a conceited man. Going through his fan mail was a monotonous task. Not to mention, extremely tedious.

All she read was, "Oh! I'm a huge fan." "Here's my number. You can call me so we can discuss your wonderful stories, or whatever you'd like.." Yeah. Subtle much? She was no closer to finding the killer and she doubted she could read any more of this crap.

Across the table, Castle was holding a letter which he constantly lowered to peep at Beckett. He really is a kid, she thought. Why was he even staring at her? Could he be anymore annoying? She tried to concentrate at the task at hand. Every time she looked up, he looked back at the letter. This happened quite a few times before she actually lost it.

"What?", she asked putting down the letter she was reading, obviously irritated. "Nothing." he said. Like she was going to buy that. She let out a huge breath when he continued, "I umm.. The way your brow furrows when you're reading; it's cute."

Did he really just say cute? She fought really hard to not let that blush creep up her face but did her heart really skip a beat when he said that? Man-whore, she thought. It's nothing. He probably said that to every girl he met. He already had two ex-wives.

"I mean not if you're playing poker. It'd be deadly, otherwise." Yes. He really had to add that as he looked back to what he was reading.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked. "Shoot." he replied putting aside the letter, all too happy to finally have a conversation with the intriguing lady in front of him and not read his stupid fan mail anymore.

"Why are you here? You don't care about the victims so you aren't here for the justice. You don't care that the guy is aping your books so you aren't here cause you're outraged. So what is it, Rick? Are you here to annoy me?"

Wow he thought. She must be a hell of a detective he thought. She might be a teeny-tiny bit correct about the annoy part but not really. He was a curious creature. That's why he was here.

"I'm here for the story." he finally said. "The story?", she repeated questioningly.

"Why those people? Why those murders?" he asked.

"Sometimes, there is no story. Sometimes, he guy is just a psychopath." she replied. She was never one for a story. She believed in cold, hard evidence. The truth. and that's what helped her solve all her cases and be the youngest person in the precinct with the highest closure rate.

Rick, for one, thought otherwise. "There's always a story. Always a chain of events makes everything make sense. Take you for example." That caught her attention as she looked up from the piece of paper and raised her eyebrows.

He continued, "Under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart, good-looking women become lawyers. Not cops. And yet, here you are. Why?"

She had to admit. He was pretty spot-on with that analogy. Something happened that led to her becoming a cop. Something that left her damaged, something she could never forget. But she wasn't going to tell a random stranger an incident of the past that changed her entire life.

"I don't know, Rick. You're the novelist. You tell me." was all she said as she sat back in her chair with a smile on her face, determined to not give away anything.