This is an AU piece set in 2009, the characters are therefore not canon. I've completed the story and will publish every week or so. Hope you enjoy.

The Interview

New York City

2009

Chapter 1

The night air was heavy, giving the midnight sky a knife like quality. The frigid moisture appeared suspended as it cut everyone and everything that ventured out into its chilling path. But he stood his ground. This icy climate matched the last decade of his life. While the New York weather made no attempt to hide itself, he on the other hand, had cloaked himself in all the perks with his reach. But it was just costume jewelry to him, never expelling the loneliness that simmered below the surface. He wondered how he could have so much, and still be so isolated. Certainly his daughter had been his anchor, and that truth was both comforting and concerting, because he could not live life through her. He knew the great villain was his failed marriages. That union, that abiding relationship, grounded on the closest friendship anyone could have, had been denied him. The failures were never far off his horizon.

But he reminded himself that everything had changed. Melissa Marrone had come into this life, thawing his heart and urging him to believe again. She was not strikingly beautiful, but exuded a vibrancy that few women he had met ever possessed. One would not notice her in a room of people, but if you met her, if you spoke with her, you'd forget that anyone else had even been present. People were naturally drawn to her. She had cajoled and tugged him back into the land of the living, the land of the loving. She convinced him to take a leap of faith, back into an institution in which he had no faith. But even this wonderful woman, could not push all his doubts away. In his private and vulnerable moments he resolved this would be his final walk down the isle, no matter what.

So here, on this chilling night, what confused him was his presence on the roof. He found himself, squinting into the dark to see his taunting ghosts. Those shadows on the periphery of vision, whom he heard, more than saw. With certainty, he knew they were there, and he was afraid, yes deathly afraid of the murmuring voices. They were stole aways into his subconscious, the hidden corners of his mind, who, in the middle of the night shattered his dreams and chased away sleep. They left him panting, bolting from bed, knowing full well there would be no rest in this night. Then he'd flee out into the cold, attempting to shake free of their hold.

XX

It had been years coming but, truth be told, Derrick Storm had been on life support since 2005. Oh, he continued to write, but the fun, the joy, the heart of the character had worn out like an old carpet. In fact he had felt a weight roll off his shoulders when his hero breathed his last. Looking back he should have saved his glee, for he had no idea the funeral and mourning would last so long.

He may have been done with Mr. Storm, but Black Pawn was not. For the final book in the series they were pulling out the stops. He wondered secretly if his publisher trying, to put him down, right next to his main character. Based on the endless runs of book signings, parties and interviews, he was exhausted. He'd spent more time on Page Six then at home.

But tonight was different and he hoped it would be more fun. He was on a entertainment segment on Channel 7, the highest rated TV station in New York City, and wondered if things had been slow and they were filling a slot with, the local-boy-does-good story. When he expressed this to his publisher they reminded him of the old saying that, any press, was good press. So, they jumped at the opportunity for the appearance.

The make-up person dabbed at his chin with a soft brush. He thought this was a waste of time, but it was their show. Finding him unable to resist, he spoke in a near whisper, not wanting to disturb this intent looking woman as she fussed over him, "Do I really need this?"

She stopped, her hands dropping to her side and let out a jolly laugh, "It's high def honey! Everybody needs slap to sit in front of those cameras," she shook her head and added, "It'll find the remains of a zit from when you were 15 years old, so sit back, and let me do my magic."

Castle smiled to himself thinking, another thing I know absolutely nothing about. Ten minutes later Donna Babe, the make-up lady was done. She plucked the sheet of tissue from his collar and stood back, her hands on her hips this time, inspecting her work, "Good to go big guy! Knock 'em dead," and pointed him toward the green room.

XX

Eighteen-hundred miles south of New York City, Detective Kate Beckett felt the warm Caribbean water swirl around her feet. She would never have believed warm tropical air, hot white sand beaches and this luxurious water could make her feel so alive. She scoffed at her earlier reluctance to take the two weeks and escape the demands of her job. But Tom had pushed, and pushed, and finally she had relented, suspecting her Captain was about ready to order her to take some time off. When she broached the proposal of two weeks away, he was delighted and approved it without a second thought.

She and Tom Demming had been together for over a year and they had gotten on wonderfully. She was beginning to feel that at last her walls were easing down and that she was ready, or least getting ready, to let someone in. The years of anger and sorrow over her mothers death were finally relinquishing its strangle hold on her. She was looking forward to stepping into the light and ending her long, long winter. She could feel a change in the air, something was happening and it made her cautiously hopeful. She thought of a line from a Jonathan Kellerman novel that had stuck in her head, "...they gave her permission to want joy, instead of avoiding pain." She wanted the same, to let go, and to want joy.

XX

Across town Melissa Marrone sat in her fiancé's spacious loft, waiting for the TV segment to begin. She stared into the deep red liquid and then tipped the glass so she could draw in the fragrance of the the Syrah. It was her favorite wine, not Cab and not Merlot, but this she considered the perfect alternative to each. She had been living with Richard Castle for nearly nine months. He was easy to be with, except when he was in one of his writing fits, otherwise he was a happy and content partner. They had talked about the demise of his most famous character and the future. She'd been concerned with his unabashed declarations of, "I have no idea what's next," which was the honest truth and a bit unsettling. He was ending one character, and a very profitable one at that, without a clue of who would replace him. She had teased him that such a decision, a venturing into the unknown, was way beyond her 'comfort zone.' He just smiled.

Melissa was a Public Defender, whose area of law forced her to live in a world of hard and brutal realities. Her job was to stand between the State of New York and those accused of crimes, without the means of affording counsel. The job existed as part of a constitutional mandate and, was therefore funded by the State. Trials had to be fair and speedy. Defendants were entitled to a lawyer, even if the couldn't afford one. She had often told Castle that she was the only thing, "between them, and the gallows." Her job was to make the State meet its burden of proof. It was hard and often frustrating, she had twin foes, the focus of her ire, an overreaching District Attorneys Office, and their aggressive and evil twin, the NYPD.

In their time together, well at least at first, she fought the urge to vent over her battles with the powers of New York. But he was close, and always willing to listen. He had become her sounding board but she feared she would drive him nuts with her personal craziness. As she explained, many of her clients were seen as merely the 'trash of society.' They were shelves below the rest of the world and ended up receiving a watered down version of justice that meted out excessive punishment, with no one even caring. The DA, and his minions, used her clients like human fodder. It added points to their resumes, with high conviction rates and long prison sentences. For them, it was as easy as taking candy from a baby. She believed most New Yorkers either didn't care, or applauded the removal of the cities vermin from the streets. Few ever gave thought to the actual people it destroyed. Interaction taught her that many of those she represented had been forced, by the circumstances of poverty, lack of education and abandonment by their own families into this hellish life. Many were former wards of the State with its foster system and overworked child protective services. They became non-people in the system, and without hope, they drifted into crime.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the TV announcer informing the audience that after the next break, "Novelist Richard Castle would share details on his latest best seller." Melissa cheered.

XX

Marty Rogers was getting a final touch-up, but continued to banter while the sound man hooked up Castle's mike. She beamed as she talked, even off camera, "Just relax Rick. No hard balls tonight, I'll lob them in and you tell them about your writing and how you came up with the ideas for your book."

He smiled, this was not his first time on TV, he was comfortable in the environment, but his smile became serious, "Two things...most important to me, please don't ask about my daughter and, I don't want to talk about how the book ends."

"No problem. I don't talk about kids...too many nuts out there, and if they want to know the end of the book," she barked out hard laugh, "Let them buy it. But the word is out that you killed him off?"

"Yeah, but only my readers will know how."

Nine minutes later the interview was coming to an end. They had taken a break and Marty brought Castle up to speed. There was only 30 seconds for a wrap-up, and they'd be done. The producer stood by the camera man and counted down to zero and pointed his finger at Marty.

"Mr. Castle thanks for taking the time to be here tonight on," pausing for effect, "Around Town."

"My pleasure Marty." Followed by a big smile for the camera.

"So in our last few seconds, what do think of the all these videos of police brutality?"

The question caught him off guard, but he immediately thought of his many conversations with Melissa, and heard her words rolling off his tongue, as he shook his head signifying displeasure, "Like many other cities, the NYPD is simply out of control! Something need to be done and, as soon as possible."

"Thank Mr. Castle." Marty smiled as the lights dropped, signaling the end of her show.

"Wow Rick, that ought to stir up some old biddies out there on Long Island." They both laughed.

As the sound man pulled off his mike, Castle smiled to himself thinking, Melissa will be so proud of me.

XX

She met him at the door, arms flying around his neck. He pulled her close buried his face in her fresh clean hair and breathed her in. She whispered, "You did so good."

"Why do you say that?" While nibbling at her ear.

"I wasn't sure you listened to me during my...you know, my rants about our wonderful system."

"I always listen to you."

"Well hopefully enough people were watching, and heard what you said, and will get after the city officials on this crazy police thing."

"Mel if they won't listen to you, they certainly won't listen to a fiction writer. But, you're always the optimist, so maybe someone was listening."

"A girl has to dream...and speaking of dreams, I want to talk to you some more about our wedding."

XX

The three men stood in silence, each sizing up the property that had recently come on the market. They were in the enviable position of being the only ones aware of it's availability, thanks to a tip from one of Castle's 'friends.'

Property like it did not come up often, especially at this 'price point', Castle smiled at the phrase, more real estate mumbo-jumbo. After the call from his agent, he contacted his two friends, Scott McCann and Frank Cotta. Even though the price was good, he knew with the added expense of upgrades, it would be too much for him to go alone. But he was not a greedy man and was happy to share opportunities with friends.

Frank Cotta spoke first, "Rick where did you find this?"

"An old buddy, Tim Fena, we go way back, is always looking out for me, thought I might be interested." All the men knew, without saying, how hard it was to find property on Manhattan that would pencil out. "I guessed we could pull off something that might have potential." Castle had turned to look at the building some more.

McCann, chimed in , "What's with the name?"

Castle let out a laugh, "Yeah, my mother says the builder had to be a patron of the arts and was probably referring to the most famous of the line, Samuel."

"Well it's got a good ring to it."

The headed inside with the key Castle had been provided. After unlocking the door, he stepped back to let Scott and Frank go first, he glanced at the plague on the marble wall, "The Beckett."

It was ironic to him, that this building had been allowed to wither, simply through lack of upkeep, but someone had lavish care on this gold oval piece of metal, with its black raised letters that declared it's identity, The Beckett. The plague glistened in the morning light, like a gem. He mumbled as he turned to walk inside, "Yeah! It does have a good ring."

Castle had seen the building many times before, it was only three blocks from the Old Haunt. It was worn to the numbs by the years but he had listened to his mother railing over the wisdom of Samuel Beckett the Irish writer, so the name had caught his attention. He'd been thinking the building was large enough to repair the small theater, for his mothers big ideas, and turn the remainder into commercial store fronts, maybe even land an anchor tenant of some sorts, and then convert the up-stair levels into residential apartments with a few larger lofts. He'd have to see if his partners agreed.

As with all things in life, there was a hitch, The Beckett was solely commercial with its zoning in place for decades. But Manhattan had changed since the New York's Department of Planning had made that decision back in the 50's. Like all cities there had been shifts in demographics and the use of properties. In order for the plan to work, it would require the multi-use zoning. They needed the mix of income from both the residential units and the retail spaces to make it financially sound.

A degree of clout was needed, along with an inside connection, to pull of the zone change. Castle was a friend of those in power, particularly the Mayor, so his part in making this fly, was to obtain the variance. He felt he was up to it.

His first run at the problem would take place in only days.

XX

Once a month Castle played poker with a group that included the Mayor and some of his "majesty's" buddy's, the use of the term 'majesty' was to tick him off. They'd meet in different places but always had fun. For Castle it was a chance to hear the inside stories on city politics, and as often as possible, take their money.

On this Tuesday evening in April those at the table included the Mayor, a Deputy Commissioner from 1PP, a Police Captain and Castle. The introductions were made all around and the fun began.

"Well Captain Montgomery, did His Majesty invite for you for good or for bad?" Castle offered as an opener.

Montgomery laughed, "I think it was for good. The last time I played poker with him he fleeced me out of a couple hundred bucks. This is my chance to get it back."

"Roy and I go way back, I used to beat him up in grammar school." The Mayor roared at his own taunt of Montgomery.

"That's a crock Bob and you know it! I was your body guard, you were such a wuss." Montgomery returning the volley.

"So even as a little cop you were a thug." The Mayor eyes now dancing in laughter.

"Don't give me that thug crap, I get enough of that from the media."

"Down Roy, down! Just pulling your chain." The Mayor swung a back-hand in his direction.

Terrance O'Neil the deputy commissioner chimed in, "Yeah Bob our plates are full with all the videos the press keeps running on the nightly news, and none of them are good."

Suddenly Castle felt the temperature rising in the room, and wondered if it was his night to be roasted. He decided silence was his best ally. It was short lived.

"So Rick, wasn't that you on TV a few weeks ago wanting, "something done" about the NYPD." The Mayor flashed him a cheesy, I-got-you-you-piece-of-crap smile.

Castle held up his hands, "I'm not even going to comment in a room with...the Mayor...a Commissioner and a Captain." Wagging his index finger in the air, "Do I look stupid?"

Montgomery chimed in, "Leave him alone Bob." Castle doubted that would ever happen. Maybe this wasn't going to be a poker night after all, it was looking like a night class, and he was the only student present.

"Tell me Rick, have you ever done a ride along with the police?" The Mayor questioned, while feigning innocence.

"Yeah I did a ride along a few years back, it was pretty interesting." Castle was glad to have answered properly.

"Was it day or night?" The Mayor pressed on.

"It was...a...day."

"You're a crime writer." It wasn't a question, "Is it during the day time when most crimes occur?" But before Castle could answer the next question was launched, "What about a homicide team, every work with one of them?"

"Nope!" Castle silently sighed. This was going no where good. He wanted this end so he could get on with taking every dollar this these three guys had. So he sat down his cards and looked at the Mayor, "Sir it sounds like... you have an idea, would you like to share it... then I can whoop you at this hand without too many interruptions."

There was a round of laughter. "Little sensitive tonight Rick?" More laugher, "But...I do have an idea."

"And what would that be Sir?" Sitting as straight as possible.

The Mayor looked at Captain Montgomery, "Roy why don't you tell him about our talk." Castle groaned silently, I'm had.

"We've got a great team at the Twelfth Rick. If you had time to tag along for a few investigations, it would give you some insight into what we do and how hard of a task we face." Montgomery then turned serious, "We're getting hammered in the press, and despite a couple of bad apples, 99% of the force is made up of dedicated people who put themselves on the line everyday, for everyone in this City."

Castle was surprised, this might be the first good idea anyone had suggested to him in a long time. He didn't even stop to consider, he needed to see something new, something out of his normal routine. He hadn't written in months and couldn't see any end to the drought. "That's sounds interesting, when can I call you?"

Montgomery smiled, "How about tomorrow?"

"Will do! Now how about we get back to this game so I can relief you guys of your cash."

As they played Montgomery considered his options. The Mayor hadn't really given him any choice when they briefly talked before the game. But good PR helped everyone, so he wasn't opposed. Castle had been involved in the Mayors campaign and was a part of the inner-circle, but he had misspoken on TV and the Mayor believed he needed a little first hand education. Fortunately his best team was geared down while the lead detective took some time off. He planned to let Castle shadow the other two, after a few cases, he'd cut Castle loose. He could keep the Mayor happy, and with luck, never have to deal with his lead Detective, Kate Beckett. Richard Castle would be just a story for the others to tell while Beckett was off.

As life would have it, everyone was wrong about the future.

XX

On the drive home he considered this evenings turn of events and his willingness to follow Montgomery's people. The idea he had been mulling over, was to spend time at a hospital, just watching and see if he could come up with a start for a story, he wasn't sure what it would be. Something along the lines of Michael Crichton meets? Meets what? Well something like that. The point was he needed a catalyst, something to get his brain going. Once he jump started, everything would come together. So maybe the homicide team might also do the trick. He'd reconcile his disdain for the police, later, after all, it's fiction, not a marriage.

It was a beautiful night and as he looked out over the city, he found himself reminiscing about old TV shows. He thought about all the cop shows he'd watched and what great writers the long running shows must have had. Cop stories worked in the past, maybe it would work for him now.

But he felt the weight of another task that needed completing tonight. He had to tell Melissa. He was certain it would not be welcome news.

"You're gonna do what?" She quickly stood her hands on her hips.

Castle tried to remember the last time he'd seen Melissa this steamed, "I...I'm not sure what to say. I was sorta ordered by the Mayor to follow the police. I think he was suggesting it as penitence for my comments on the air."

"Did he say that?"

Castle choked out a laugh and looked at Melissa, her face was a mask of concentration. "Of course not! He's a politician, everything is by inference. "

"So you just agreed, without putting up a fight?"

"Think about where I was, in a room with the Mayor, a Commissioner and a police Captain. The Mayor has just reamed me for trash talking three of the four people in the room, what am I suppose do, tell them off?"

"I just can't believe you agreed! Why?"

"On the positive side, I thought it would be a chance to get an inside glimpse into a world I've never seen first hand. Heaven knows I need some ideas."

If she had started to feel sorry for him, it evaporated in an instant, she just shook her head back and forth, "You cannot do a book centered on the police...I find that tedious just saying it. You're not considering that are you?"

"Mel I've only agreed to tag along with a homicide team. That's it."

XX

When Montgomery arrived at the office the next morning, he had had a call from the Mayors office, requesting an immediate call back. He wondered if the man ever slept.

He dialed the number, expecting an aide to answer. He was wrong, it turned out it a direct line. "Sir, Roy Montgomery returning your call."

"Roy, don't be so formal, it's just me." With only a slight pause he got to the point. "I wanted to speak to you about Rick and this tag-a-long thing. My goal is let Castle see how you guys operate, how things are worked out... how thoroughly your teams operate."

"That was my intent also sir."

"Good! I was thinking, don't you still have our shining star, what's her name, Beckett working for you?"

"Yes sir, in fact my plan was to place Castle with her team."

"Excellent. I'd like to see them get along and turn Castle from a critic to an advocate for the Department. We're in this bad cycle, some outside PR would certainly help. Rick's stuck his foot in it, now he can give us a hand."

"How long do you envision this taking."

"I'd guess at least two to three months. We can touch bases as things progress, near the end, I'll meet with him and see what he's thinking, I suspect he'll be seeing things clearer. You work far to hard for any other outcome. One last thing, keep me posted." Before he could respond, the line went dead.

Montgomery spun his chair, first staring at the old blinds, then out into the a gray morning. His plan to avoid the 'Beckett problem' has just been shot down. He knew she would comply with the Mayor's wishes, but there was nothing he could do for Richard Castle. He would have to deal with Beckett. If they could work together, that would be good, if not, she would no doubt make Mr. Castle's life miserable during his brief stay.