Working off my own prompt: what if Castle had been a biker that Beckett had met in high school? AU oneshot. The above fan art is not mine.
"Waitress!" Kate turned at the sound, knowing they were calling to her. She sighed at the portly middle-aged man with the lecherous grin at the counter.
"I’ll be right there," she called to him, ignoring the disgruntled look he gave her; it wasn’t her fault this place was packed.
"Can I get you anything else?" she asked the young couple, probably about her age. The guy gave his girlfriend a questioning look and she shook her head, smiling bashfully.
"We’re good," he told Kate.
"Really?" Kate questioned. "You only ordered a salad and…a water. you sure you don’t want anything else? Maybe a burger or some fries?"
The girl opens her mouth to answer, but a look from her boyfriend stops her and she looks down. “I’m okay,” she mumbles.
Kate’s eyes shift between the two of them; the boyfriend gives her a fake smile, but she can see right through it. She doesn’t think, for a second, that the jerk can’t afford it—his designer jacket and Cheeseburger Deluxe is proof enough of that. It’s more likely that he’s pressuring her into eating less for his own benefit of looking at her.
Kate forces a smile and tucks her notepad into her apron. “Okay,” she says, “food will be right out.”
She walks towards the kitchen, only to be stopped by a greasy hand on her arm. She turns to see the lecherous pig grinning up at her. She attempts to tug her arm away but his grip seems to tighten.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asks through clenched teeth. "Do you need your check or something?"
"Yeah, that’d be nice," he replies, "but I’d also like to know…" Oh no “if you get off shift soon. Maybe we could go grab some…coffee or something.”
Kate’s eyes narrow at him and glance quickly at the coffee machine just a few feet away. She’ll give him some coffee, alright, if he doesn’t get his grubby hands off of—
Kate and the man both snap their heads towards the voice and her heart jumps in her chest at the sight of the young—unfamiliar—man, maybe a year or two older than Kate’s seventeen. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a pair of ripped jeans. His t-shirt has a grey alien on it, but it somehow makes him look tougher, and not geeky like one might think (but that could also have something to do with his muscular arms and broad shoulders). His blue eyes sparkle mischievously, and he has a sly, but happy, grin on his face.
"Uh…hi," she says, somewhat breathlessly. She gives him a confused look, but his grin only widens.
"I’m sorry," he says, "I thought you’d already be off for the night, but I guess I was wrong…is there a problem here, sir?"
The lecher’s eyes widen and he immediately lets go of Kate’s arm. “No,” he says, “no problem. I was just asking Miss….Kate, here, to bring me my check. Right?” He looks pleadingly at Kate and she nods, grinning, pulling out her check book from her pocket and adding up all his costs, before handing it to him.
"Be sure to leave my girl a good tip, alright?" the young man says, patting the customer on the back, before taking his seat at the other end of the counter. Kate grins at him and rolls her eyes, before making her way into the kitchen to deliver her last order of the night.
"Charlie," she says, "can you do me a favor?"
"What’s that, Katie Cakes?" he asks, affectionately. Charlie is a man in his seventies—a fifty-year fry cook—and almost a second father to Kate, who’d had to deal with being one of only two waitresses on staff. He’d helped her out by getting the other guys off her case.
"Can you add a plate of fries to that order with the deluxe?" she asks.
"Sure can! You forget to add it?" he asks, writing down the note on the order.
"Nope! Just thought I’d give them a little treat tonight."
"Again? Girl, you’re never gonna get that bike you wanted if you keep giving food away.”
"I’ve got plenty for the bike, Charlie, but girls gotta eat and that one’s boyfriend is a douche; least I can do."
"All you females gotta stick together, huh?" Charlie laughs.
"Got that right!" Kate replies, walking out of the kitchen.
When she steps out, the old man is gone and the young man is sitting at the end of the bar, reading a menu. Kate searches for Lanie, the other waitress and her good friend, but Lanie’s holed up at the family table, with two screaming babies….and her shift’s only just begun!
Kate figures she might as well help her out and takes out her notepad, making her way over to the man with the leather jacket.
"Can I get you anything to drink, sir?" she asks, a slight grin tugging at her lips as his blue eyes peer over the menu, at her.
"Coke?" he requests.
"Pepsi," she replies.
"Close enough," he acquiesces, putting down the menu.
Kate writes down the order. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
"Uh….your number?" he asks, cheekily.
Kate rolls her eyes. “Not on the menu,” she replies, pointedly.
"Can I have it anyway," he asks, "please?"
"Well," she teases, "since you said please."
"Really?" he asks, excitedly.
"No," she laughs, putting away her pad and turning to the soda fountain to get him a drink. When she places it in front of him, a thought comes to her. "How did you know my name?" she asks.
"Lucky guess," he replies, cheekily. Kate lifts one brow and he laughs. "You’re wearing a name tag," he reminds her, taking a sip of his drink.
Kate looks down at her chest. The name tag is well worn and the first two letters are starting to peel. She gives him another look.
"It was either Kate, Nate, or Kite," he explains. "I made an educated guess. Was I wrong?"
Kate shook her head. “No, you’re right…nice detective skills.”
"Thank you." He grins. "So…about that number…"
Kate shakes her head and opens her mouth, but the ding coming from the kitchen causes her to look away. She puts up a finger as she practically runs to the kitchen.
"Got anything for me, Charlie?" she asks.
"Nope," Charlie replies. "Dennis just got his order. You’re should be up soon, though. Just another minute for the fries."
Kate nods and exits, rushing to the soda fountain, filling two cups with Coke (one diet) and grabbing a lemon slice to garnish the diet drink, before running them to the table.
The girl’s eyes widen at the drink Kate places in front of her and she opens her mouth to say something, but Kate shakes her head.
"It’s diet," she says, before turning to give the boyfriend an icy look, "and it’s on the house."
She walks away, leaving the two gaping after her. They haven’t seen anything yet.
Kate quickly picks up their food and runs it to them, placing the burger deluxe in front of the guy and the salad and fries in front of the girl, who blushes.
"I…I didn’t order—"
"I know," Kate says. "They’re also on the house. A girl needs more than rabbit food for sustenance, trust me. I eat these all the time.”
The girl’s eyes widen, taking in Kate’s gorgeous figure. “You do?” she asks. Kate grins, nodding.
"Uh-huh," she says. "And I don’t do it for any boy, either.” She glares at the boyfriend, whose face is beat red, and saunters away, back towards the bar, finding the young man done with his soda. “Need a refill?” she asks, picking up her tip from two other customers who’d just left and placing their payment into the register.
"No thanks," he answers. "You almost done for the night?"
"Uh…yeah," she answers, grinning. "My shift ends…now. I just have to do one more thing." She closes the register and walks towards Lanie, who’s just placing the last plate on the family table and wishing them a good meal.
"Hey, Lane," she greets, "can you cover table three? I’ve already served them; you can take the tip. Same goes for the guy at the bar who’s about to leave."
"Oh, but don’t you need the money right now? You want that bike, don’t you?" she asks.
"I’ve got all summer to get that bike," Kate says. "You only have one more year to collect for med school, and you’ll still be drowned in debt.”
"What about Law school?"
"Mom and Dad have already promised to stop eating fast food until I graduate. Plus, Grandpa had a college fund set up for me in his will. I’m covered. So stop arguing and take the damn money."
Lanie cackles. “You rock, girl.”
"I know," Kate sighs, walking away while her friend laughs after her.
Untying her apron, Kate steps into the kitchen, moving towards the lockers in the back. She removes it and shoves it into her own locker and closes it before clocking out and grabbing her jacket from the coat rack, slipping it on as she steps out into the diner. The young man throws a ten on the counter—for a two dollar drink—and walks up to her.
"Want a ride home?" he asks. Kate eyes him warily. "My intentions are completely pure," he promises. "I’ll even show you my license and registration and let you call my mom."
Kate snorts. “Okay,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go.”
He grins and leads her out of the diner.
"What’s your name, anyway?" Kate asks as they walk down the street.
"Richard Alexander Rodgers," he replies, "but you can call me Castle."
"Castle?" Kate asks. "How do you get Castle out of that?"
"It’s my pen name," Castle replies. "I use it when I’m writing."
"You write?" Kate asks, surprised. "What an amazing coincidence."
"Why?" he asks. "You write too?"
"No," she says, grinning, "I read."
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re funny,” he says. “Didn’t expect that.”
"Why?" she asks. "Pretty girls can’t be funny?"
“‘Course they can,” he insists, “I just don’t meet a lot of them.”
"Sounds pretty dull," Kate comments.
"It is," Castle sighs. "That’s why I’m glad I met you." Kate snorts. "What?"
"That is so cheesy!" she laughs.
"But it worked, didn’t it?" Kate doesn’t answer; she bites back a grin. "I thought so."
He stops and so does she. He turns to a parked motorcycle and she gasps as he pulls out a set of keys and unlocks them with a remote control.
"You drive a motorcycle?" she asks, her eyes wide. He grins, nodding.
"That I do," he says, reaching down to pick up two hidden helmets. He hands her one and she puts it on.
"A Harley softtail 1994," she sighs, "a beaut."
"My baby," Castle replies, stroking a hand over the seat. Kate snorts and shakes her head. Castle offers her a hand to help her onto the seat. She takes it and hops on. Castle steadies the bike and climbs on himself, sitting in front of her.
Kate immediately wraps her arms around his waist as he revs the engine. “Hold on tight!” he tells her. She tightens her grip and he kicks off from the ground, pulling out into traffic.
Kate’s hair, which she’d taken out of her ponytail, whips behind her, falling out from beneath the helmet, and she grins, relaxing into the soothing summer air. Soon, she thinks, this will be her.
Castle’s voice cuts through her thoughts. “So where do you gotta go, anyway?” he asks.
"Actually," she calls back, "I don’t have to be home until midnight; we have two hours to spare."
"Wanna go for a ride?" he asks, grinning.
"Duh!" Kate says, chuckling.
"Hold on!" He presses down on the gas and she squeezes tighter as they pick up speed, weaving in and out of traffic.
For over an hour, they ride all over Manhattan, racing through Central Park and buzzing down Broadway before Kate finally points him in the direction of her apartment. They stop at a park nearby for a few more moments of freedom before they have to say goodbye. They lean against his bike as they talk.
"So…you write, huh?" Kate says, once she removes her helmet, shaking off her helmet hair. "You don’t look much like a writer."
"Writers can’t be ruggedly handsome?" he asks, grinning. Kate rolls her eyes.
"Not the ones I’ve met," she retorts.
"Sounds pretty dull," he replies. She laughs.
"It is," he agrees, smiling down at her. "What about you? What do you wanna do for a living? I assume it’s not waiting on tables."
"You assume right," Kate replies. "I want to be the first female Chief Justice. You know, Law school and all that."
"That sounds interesting," Castle says, genuinely. "Your mom’s a lawyer?"
"Mom and dad," Kate says, nodding. "How did you know?"
"Research for a book. Kids usually choose a similar path their parents took and it’s usually the one whose gender they match up with."
"Interesting…your dad a writer?"
"I wouldn’t know," Castle replies, shrugging. "Never met him."
"Oh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—"
"No, it’s fine," he insists. "I’m over it. Besides, as a writer, I can make him be anything that I want, you know. He can be a secret agent, a gang leader, a superhero…the real thing probably wouldn’t even match up. So I’m good with not knowing."
Kate smiles up at him, biting her lip. “Well, no matter who he is,” she says, “he’s made a pretty great kid.”
Castle grins back. “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” he says, cheekily. “You know, I’ve also got a few other talents.”
"Oh yeah," Kate questions, flirtingly, "like what?"
"Well, I can fence, play piano, and I’m a damn good chef—I’d have to be or else my mother probably would have poisoned me long ago. And…I’m a pretty good kisser."
Kate grins at that, rolling her eyes. “Oh yeah?” she asks, looking up at him from underneath her lashes. “Prove it.”
Castle grins down at her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her body against his. Kate gasps, but the sound swallowed by Castle’s lips as he slants them down over hers. Kate moans into his mouth, her arms winding up around his neck. Castle’s hands grip her waist as his tongue invades her mouth.
Kate’s mouth opens for him and she leans more heavily against his body, her knees suddenly having gone weak, in some sort of cheesy cinema-esque cliche.
When they pull back, both are breathless. Castle grins, placing his forehead against hers. “How’d I do?” he asks.
"You have clearly been overestimating yourself," Kate teases. "I think you need a lot more practice.”
"Well, maybe you can help me with that," Castle replies, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
"Sounds like a plan," she replies, leaning into to kiss him again.