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John obeyed his phone’s sat nav when it told him to turn left in that annoying voice. Looking down the dark road, however, John felt dubious about what the computer had ordered him to do. He grumbled in frustration at the stupid device and started looking for a place to turn round, a task made all the more difficult by the trees on either side of the single track road and the dark. As he looked down the long straight road, he could see some lights in the distance, and after giving his phone one last glare – this time for being right- he continued down the road. After a couple of minutes of the lights getting closer and brighter, he grudgingly accepted that his phone had been right all along.

The road opened up in to a large circular parking area, so John looped around and parked next to the steps leading up to the house. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree and John briefly wondered how one man could have so many lights on in a house. Looking at his watch, he resisted the impulse to honk his horn and hurry her. He didn’t want to seem desperate after all, despite the fact that he’d been thinking about Elizabeth ever since she had left him earlier. Castle had ribbed him for the silly grin that kept crossing his face, but at least it had stopped the writer from brooding too much.

He took his phone out of the cradle on the dashboard and brought up the picture he had taken with her this evening. She was gorgeous. Possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. He chuckled at his own mushiness, wondering when he had been so transformed when it came to women. It seemed that the days of the womanising flirt were gone. John Sheppard had grown up. Not that much however; he was currently repressing the urge to simply walk in there, throw her over his shoulder and take her home to make love to her.

Sighing, he looked up at the door to see if there was any movement. But something else caught his eye. He couldn’t be sure if it were a shadow or not, but the door looked open and John could feel his instincts kick in that something was very wrong with this situation.

Jumping out of his car, he tucked his phone in to his jacket pocket and jogged up the front steps, stopping at the door to listen inside. He couldn’t hear any movement, so carefully pushed the door open enough to peek around it. On seeing nothing, he moved into the hallway, fiercely missing the weight of his faithful gun in his hands, but carrying on regardless. He needed to know Elizabeth was alright.

He moved in to the first room on the right, a study by the looks of it, and instantly recognised the disarray of the room for what it was. Two steps further in to the room only confirmed it. A murder.

But where was Elizabeth? He turned and called out for her, but only heard the dishwasher in the kitchen return his call. He raced around the other rooms, checking for her before coming back to the front room. With his head in his hand, he pulled out his phone and tried to push down the rising panic in his throat as he dialled 911.

He was giving the dispatcher the address when he heard a car engine rev up close to the house and he ran to the front door to see a black Ford speeding off down the driveway, gravel crunching under its tyres. He made out the first three numbers of the license plate, which he relayed to the dispatcher, but the car vanished in to the darkness before he could give her anything else of value. “Shit! I think they have Elizabeth!”

“Sorry, sir, who has who?”

“Whoever killed Simon. I think they have my friend too,” he ran his hand through his hair. “Screw this, I’m going after them.”

“Sir, please do not follow the vehicle, I’ve already dispatched a car to your location,” she told him. “I need you to remain at the house, the detectives will be with you shortly.” Her instructions stopped him at the car door, caught between doing what was right and doing what he wanted. He turned and watched the brake lights disappearing in to the distance and heard the sirens wailing not too far away.

“Fuck!” He shouted, hanging up on the dispatcher and kicked the wheel of the car. He couldn’t help feeling that he had just lost Elizabeth.




Richard sat chatting to a pretty blonde woman at the bar, trying to keep his eyes from wandering over to Kate dancing with Dr. Motorcycle Boy. The blonde was pretty enough, young and chatty and when she looked away he would share looks with his daughter as she rolled her eyes at his scandalous behaviour.

“So, is it, like, true that you and Nicky Heat are, y’know, doing it? ‘Coz I hear that you writers get all your ideas from real life,” she smiled charmingly, holding her arms close to her sides and producing a very pleasing amount of cleavage which Castle simply could not resist gaping at. He heard Alexis scoff at him before closing her books and leaving the bar with Ashley, headed for the dance floor.

Richard couldn’t seem to find the words to answer the woman when confronted with her bosom, seemingly only able to open and close his mouth like a fish in response.

A hard pat on his back broke him out of his stupour. “Come on bro! Got a case!”

“Oh, right, umm…” he fumbled over a good bye to the blonde, whose name he couldn’t even remember. “Sorry, y’know, gotta run. Nice meeting you though,” he smiled as he fumbled over getting off his barstool and putting his jacket on from the back of it.

“She was hot, dude!” Ryan pointed out as Castle caught up with them at the door.

“Who was she?”

“No idea,” Castle replied. “Nice pair of…”

“What, Castle?” Beckett’s stern yet teasing voice came from behind him as she came around to get in the front passenger seat of the squad car and dared him to finish his sentence with a look.

“Shoes! I was gunna say shoes!” He defended, getting in the back with Esposito, leaving Ryan to drive. “You’re not driving?”

“Are you kidding? In these heels?”



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