Esposito: Yo I ran the pet shop owner Noel Dupree he came up clean
Beckett: What about in the past couple of days, anything unusual
Ryan: Day before yesterday customs has him taking possession of half a dozens of Afrian Grey Parrots, Four Baboon Spiders and two Black-Tailed Python all from South Africa
Castle: Wait a minute did you say black-tail pythons from South Africa
Ryan: Yeah Why
Castle: Because black-tailed pythons also known as indian rock pythons aren’t indigenous to that area. Why would they become from Africa
Esposito: Why do you care about some mother freaking snakes on an mother freaking plane
Castle: Because as an murder mystery novelist I’m highly paid to think like a bad guy. Here are a few fun facts about snakes. They are cold-blooded. They swallow huge amounts and they digest there food very slowly
Beckett: Prefect for smuggling
Castle: And it wouldn’t be the first time. If these snakes are coming in from South Africa. There are two things in abundance in South Africa, racial hatred and diamonds
Esposito: Smuggling diamonds in live snakes
Beckett: Mickey’s attacker said there were millions at stake
Castle: and the dumb way goes right down into the pet store that’s why the Matlin’s trip had to be this weekend they know the shipment was coming in and the ketamine
Beckett: was to dope the snakes so they could get them up the shaft without a fight and when we came into the store
Castle: the owner couldn’t say a word other whys he implicate himself in smuggling
Beckett: So if we found out who robbed him
Castle: We find the third man
Ryan: Do they know there finishing each other’s sentences
Beckett: Have uniforms pickup the owner and will meet you at the store
Can you write a drunk Beckett (maybe drunk Castle too, your choice) scenario set pre Caskett? What happens due to the intoxication is up to you :)
set immediately after 2x14 (The Third Man)
Dinner at Remy’s was fun. In the beginning of their forced partnership, she had barely been able to stand him, but over the last year, Castle had witnessed a progressive descent of the guard Beckett kept up around him. She had slowly started to allow him inside her life, slowly started to see him as less of a nuisance and more of a friend.
Tonight was one of those nights. She smiled and laughed and acted as if spending an evening with him was something she actually enjoyed and he wished it could always be like this.
After burgers and fries - and milkshakes that she made sinful little noises over - she surprised him when she asked if they could continue the night at a bar in East Village. It surprised him even more when she ended up drinking quite a few glasses of a whiskey he recommended.
“Well, look who’s off duty,” he commented with a smirk, still nursing only his third glass of the amber liquid.
She rolled her eyes, but her lips were lifting behind the rim of her gleaming shot glass.
“I’m not all work, Castle,” she murmured, and was that seduction he heard in her voice? He wasn’t completely sober, so he couldn’t be sure, but he could still see clearly and her eyes had definitely grown darker over the last hour.
The barstools they had acquired were pushed close together, her knees pressed between his, but he still never would have expected the slide of her hand onto his knee, the slow spread of her fingers over his thigh. He caught her fingers before they could wander and she didn’t jerk her hand free.
He glanced up, saw the lazy smile stretching across her lips. and yeah, Kate Beckett was unquestionably drunk.
She downed the remnants of her shot and made an unsteady dismount from the wooden stool, nearly crashing into him. But he caught her hips, held her in place, and Kate closed her fingers around his wrists, tugged him with her when she began walking backwards.
“C’mon, Cassstle, walk me home.”
He grinned. “That would imply that this was a date, Beckett,” he pointed out, purposely popping the t’s at the end of her name.
"Then maybe I’ll kiss you if we make it to my door.”
She gave him one of her flirty smiles, one he had seen her use on suspects before when she was trying to play the good cop, one with her enticing tongue pressing against the whites of her teeth. He wanted that smile covering his.
He held her hand to keep her from stumbling after he left a tip that would cover them both on the bar, let her lean on him as they both exited the establishment and ventured onto the street. The walk to her apartment was long and swaying and when they finally reached her building, he wasn’t exactly positive she would make it up to her apartment without taking a tumble.
“We should have gone dancing,” she sighed, her arms suddenly around his neck, her body tilting slowly from side to side.
His hands settled at her waist, thumbs skimming the edge of her shirt. “Instead of Remy’s?”
She shook her head back and forth, dislodging a few strands from the tasteful bun she had scraped her hair into after they had returned from their failed dates with other people.
“Instead of Drago. I liked my dress, felt like a waste to wear it for that stupid date,” she sighed, dipping her head to his shoulder.
“It wasn’t a waste,” he assured her, rubbing her back. “I really like you in red, Beckett.”
She laughed, a little too loudly, but picked her head up.
“You think I’m pretty?” she teased, but he nodded as he tucked a strand of her falling hair behind her ear.
“You’re always pretty. Beautiful.”
Her eyes were hazy, but they brightened at his words, sparkling specks of gold shining through the sea of green and brown. He had never seen her so open and he wished it was due to more than the alcohol.
“You drunk, Castle?"
"Not as drunk as you,” he chuckled and she huffed as he tried to steer her closer to the door, made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat.
“Stop trying to herd me into my apartment.”
"It’s late, Beckett. You’ve got paperwork to do in the morning,” he tried to reason, but she only listed further into him, a frown creasing her lips as she stared up at him.
“I wanted to kiss you.”
His heart stuttered, even though it shouldn’t. He should direct her towards the entrance of her building, maybe walk her up, and then he should leave. He didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t take advantage of her, share a pivotal moment with her that she wouldn’t even remember in the morning.
“You need to go inside, Kate.”
She smiled, brighter than he had ever seen. “I like when you call me Kate. Sounds nice when you say it.”
“I think you’ll feel differently when you’re sober.”
“Hmm, yeah. Gotta keep it professional. But for now…”
Kate smudged her mouth over his before he could comprehend what she was doing, before he could stop her. He cradled her head, submerged his fingers into the soft locks of hair, finally sending the precarious remains of her bun unraveling. It wasn’t the most graceful of kisses, it was a little sloppy and slightly breathless, but it still made his blood sing.
She pulled away with a dazed grin, so not Beckett, but a glimmer of what a regular occurrence of kissing Kate could be like.
“We should have done that sooner,” she sighed wistfully, squeezing his fingers before she stepped back and began the hazardous trek to the building’s entrance a few feet away.
“Hopefully we can do it again.”
She used the doorjamb to steady herself when she glanced over her shoulder. “I’d bet on it, Castle.”
He didn’t bring it up the next day, but when he walked into the precinct and placed her grande vanilla latte on her desk, she offered him a hint of that same bright smile she had given him last night. And he knew she remembered.