http://bestsellingego.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] bestsellingego.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] fanofthegenre 2010-02-18 12:49 am (UTC)

"Ma fille," Castle greets, "what's up?"

Other than Beckett, Alexis Castle is the only other woman on earth who can read him as well -- or better than -- one of his pulp fictions. The girl has a preternatural ability to sniff out details, something which Castle has always been proud of, once referring to her as "a bloodhound with a Banana Republic charge card."

Castle's face remains deceptively collected while his daughter briefs him on the status of the homefront ("Gram's having another one of her theater parties; I think they're setting up a ladder so they can swing from the chandelier") before asking after his whereabouts.

"I'm with Detective Beckett. We wrapped a case today. Yeah, the one with the ants, she --" he pauses, eyes sliding toward Beckett "-- the ex-wife. Yeah, I know. I told her, it's always the ex-wives. Sorry, did I just hear somebody say they wanted to move the piano onto the balcony?"

Panic. Castle holds his hand over the cell phone's mouthpiece.

"DEFCON One back at my place," he says. "This might have to be a short evening."

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