mmkaternater: (castle | best-selling ego)
[personal profile] mmkaternater
[ Set in the days following this. ]

"I just don't know what to do with these earrings."

Martha Castle descends the stairs in a cyclone of teal and gold silk, her red hair teased high and as bright as a match head. She slams a pair of gold filigree earrings down on the counter where Castle is busy arranging an edible tour of the Orient, courtesy of the Mandarin Garden take-out place down the street. He gives the earrings a sideways glance. Grins. Watching his mother get wound up before a night out on the town is more entertaining than most spectator sports. He shovels a mound of fragrant white rice into a container.

"Judging from the size and shape, I bet they'd probably be pretty good airfoils for short-term flight."

Martha gives her son a sour look and plants her hand over the earrings, holding them up as evidence. "I'll have you know that these were given to me by a Broadway producer whose version of Annie Get Your Gun was delivered from the jaws of tragedy by me --" she fans a hand against the brocade at her throat "-- in a knockout performance." She begins affixing the earrings at her lobes. "He was very grateful."

"Yeah, to be rid of the curse of the displaced maharaja who used to own the things."

"That's the Hope Diamond. And someone should adopt you."

"Speaking of good parenting, where's Alexis?"

Martha drops a tube of lipstick and her cell phone into an ornate clutch purse. "At a group study session for her astronomy class."

"On a Friday night?"

The Castle family matriarch shakes her head ruefully. "I keep telling her that the only stars she really needs to care about are between Hollywood and Vine, but," she waves a dismissive hand, "you know how young people are."

Castle arches an eyebrow. "Educated?" He starts to start geometric take-out boxes on top of each other. "What am I gonna' do with all this food? I ordered extra because I thought you and Alexis were staying in tonight. I'm up to my eyeballs in udon."

Martha checks her reflection in a compact and shrugs. "Call detective Beckett. Aren't the two of you working on a case? Something about murder, mystery and macabre intrigue?"

"Just about."

Martha leans in and presses her lips against her son's cheek. "Do something with yourself, will you? You've been moping around here for three days. We're too pretty to have real problems."

Castle squeezes his mother's hand and sees her out the door. Suddenly, the apartment is much too quiet. He flicks the stereo system to life and cues up the Shuffle function on his iPod. 'Gives the entire thing up to the Fates and gets Aerosmith's "Love In An Elevator" right out of the gate.

Terrific.

Date: 2010-02-09 11:36 pm (UTC)
fanofthegenre: (scarf.)
From: [personal profile] fanofthegenre
"Nah, I'll be alright." Beckett pretends to pause, wide-eyed, as she draws her scarf around her neck.

"They do circle around here, right?"

Date: 2010-02-09 11:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com
Castle smirks and stacks the empty bottles on the counter for later clean up.

"We've got hover-cabs this far uptown. They only accept platinum bars for cab fare. You're good for it, right?"

Date: 2010-02-09 11:40 pm (UTC)
fanofthegenre: (kitten.)
From: [personal profile] fanofthegenre
"I'm sure the driver and I can work something out," she murmurs, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

Date: 2010-02-09 11:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com
"Oh." His eyes widen, as if he's just caught on to how euphemisms work. "Oh. Well, in that case, try to get picked up by a cab that at least looks clean."

He holds up her coat so she can slip her arms into the sleeves.

Date: 2010-02-09 11:46 pm (UTC)
fanofthegenre: (contented.)
From: [personal profile] fanofthegenre
"I have high standards when it comes to that sort of thing."

She reaches under the collar of her coat to free any rebellious strands of hair that have fallen out of her clip.

Date: 2010-02-09 11:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com
Her hair flips the underside of his nose and he notes, with no small degree of pleasure, that she's still using the same cherry-scented shampoo or perfume he pointed out to her a couple of weeks earlier. He'd liked it. It kind of charms him that she's stuck to it.

"So, you'll call me if there are any heinous murders tonight, right? I'm bound to need a break at some point, the image of Nikki Heat in harem pants notwithstanding."

Date: 2010-02-09 11:56 pm (UTC)
fanofthegenre: (faceoff.)
From: [personal profile] fanofthegenre
Shampoo or perfume, she's a creature of habit. It'll take more than his noticing of her scent (or maybe it's partly due to his noticing); she smiles up at him, then frowns, the way she does when she's considering something, weighing her options in her mind.

"I'll call you," Beckett promises, and then, quietly: "Thank you, Castle."

She's not entirely certain what she's thanking him for (thank you for the food, for the conversation, for not making this entirely weird after it could've been), and none of it really matters in the way of explaining. Not when she follows it with only a brief, hesitating pause before she inclines her head, in and slightly to the right, to let her mouth ghost over his cheek.

Date: 2010-02-10 12:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com
Instinctively, Castle draws his chin down toward his chest. 'Either a ploy to get more of her lips across his cheek or an effort to hide the extremely uncharacteristic heat that's just spread to his face.

He tucks his fingers around her upper arm. Squeezes gently.

"See you soon, Detective."

Date: 2010-02-10 12:07 am (UTC)
fanofthegenre: (over the shoulder.)
From: [personal profile] fanofthegenre
Her own fingers hook underneath his elbow simultaneously, returning the squeeze, and there's a smile on her lips that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Count on it."

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