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evraealtana
(FIC) Write With Me 
13th-Sep-2010 07:40 pm
it mocks me (NaNoWriMo)
Author: cardboardcornea , evraealtana 
Occasion: CastleLand challenge: "Write with Me"
Fandom: Castle(ish)
Author's notes: Crossover(ish) -- Brian Cassidy (L&O:SVU).  Mention of Jason Walsh (The Unusuals).  Set about 1 year pre-pilot.




 

Hey Cous’ –

Congrats on making narcotics. Though I still think you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. You’ll see soon enough. And hopefully you won’t get hurt in the process like I did. Anyway, now that you’re one of the big boys who gets to wear a tie and everything, I will impart to you my wisdom which you will in turn ignore which will lead down a road where I get the satisfaction of saying I told you so.

#1: Know your terminology. The scientific as well as the slang. This is important. You will have to testify in court someday and you don’t want anybody walking because you were laughed off the stand. 

NOTE: “Skexy” and “Sleestak” are not appropriate terms for a perp. They’re just not.

 

#2: Do not sleep with your partner. This is another big one because it never ends well. And, before you get the idea into your pea-sized head, I never slept with Munch. This is merely an observation and has no root in personal experience.

#3: Don’t screw up. People know we’re related and everything you do reflects back on me.

That’s all I’ve got. Have fun little cous’ and don’t make me look bad.

- Your most favorite cousin Brian


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Brian –

Thanks for your kind words of wisdom. I found Tip Number Three particularly inspiring. Don’t worry – I’ll do my best not to embarrass you. It’s not exactly out of my way; I’m already struggling not to embarrass myself. I’m not in the Academy anymore, that’s for sure. I’ve been on this job four days and already I’m wondering whether I might be in the wrong department.

My partner always has this disgusting odor lingering around him. I thought maybe he didn’t bathe or something, except last night he took me out to Central Park (which, as it turns out, is a drug haven – I didn’t know that, but I’m sure you did) and we uncovered a big group of guys snorting God-only-knows-what. Lo and behold, the source of the smell – every single one of those guys reeked of piss and booze and vomit and smoke and two-week-old B.O. all rolled into one big ball of nastiness. It was so bad that I almost wanted to strangle myself with my tie (the tie that I actually get to wear now – yay for having a white-collar job, finally). Even worse, it clings to your clothes; I had to Febreeze everything I was wearing twice before I could even stand the smell long enough to pull my shirt over my head to wash it. Maybe I’ll transfer to another department…where the perps bathe more than once a week.

Is SVU cool? I might switch over there. Except, you didn’t like it there, so…maybe I shouldn’t even try. I met the head of the Homicide department today. I might try that instead.

Hope your week’s been better than mine,

- Kevin

P.S. – “No root in personal experience”, eh? I’ll take your word when it comes to Munch, but half of New York knows for a fact that you slept with Olivia.

 

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My Dearest Snot Nosed Brat-

Olivia was not my partner. She was my coworker. I cannot forbid you to date anyone employed by the NYPD as that would be hypocritical of me and you know how much I hate being called a hypocrite.

I remember the smell. Though for me it was a breath of fresh air after SVU. It’s just one of those things you don’t even notice after a while. Hang in there. Soon enough your nose will be so raw all you can smell is your own blood.

I’m not sure how you figure dead bodies will smell better than ones slowly wasting away but whatever floats your boat.

                                                                                                                                                                -Brain

 

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Dear cousin who really should start being nicer to me,

I’m not saying I want to be an M.E., just a detective. I’d only have to spend, what, half an hour with the corpse, maybe less, and I wouldn’t even have to get that close. Plus, the dead guys aren’t the ones you have to interrogate later.

I am curious, though: why will my nose be raw? From subjecting it to the horrendous stench of our unfortunate perps, or from my heinous boss pressing it to the proverbial grindstone? I don’t think I’ve slept more than four hours at a time in the last week, and I can count the total number of coffee breaks I’ve taken thus far on one hand. Well, one hand and a thumb, anyway.

Accidentally called a perp a “sleestak” today. I couldn’t help it; he looked like one! Anyway…thought of you. And as it turns out, you were right; they do laugh at you for it. Lesson learned.

                                                                                                                                                                                - Kevin

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Nerd –

Oh, to be young and naive. I miss those days. Before you go transferring to Homicide go have a chat with Jason Walsh down at the second. He’s got some good stories.

I’m pretty sure a grindstone would eradicate your nose completely. Then you’d look like that snake dude from those kids’ books you like so much. Though I’m sure that with your dashing Irish features you’d be able to pull it off.

Now I am off to accumulate copious amounts of sleep and dream of the poor souls who have to work this holiday weekend.

- Brian
 

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Brian, who really should stop calling me names because it isn’t very nice,

For the record, even without a nose I would look nothing like Voldemort, thank you very much. But you’re right – even minus a nose I’d still be quite dashing.

Unfortunately, I happen to be one of those “poor souls” who have to work through holidays. Apparently, time off is reserved for “those of us with families”, which is ridiculous because you don’t have to have a wife and three little carbon copies of yourself to have a family. I would bring that point up to my department head, except I’m pretty sure he’d hang me from the break room ceiling by my ears. Or maybe just give me a hairy eyeball. I’m scared to find out which it’d be.

Seriously, though, Narcotics is taking my proverbial lunch money; I’m now living off nothing but doughnuts and espresso and less than half the daily recommended sleep allowance.   This can’t be healthy. There’s gotta be a better department out there! I feel like I should stick this out for a little bit, to make “a stint in Narc” look better on my résumé, but…God, this feels like Hell. I would job-hunt at my desk, except I’m pretty sure I.A. checks browser history. You’re a far stronger man than I; I’m still scratching my head, wondering how you pull off working this job without considering suicide.

                                                                                                                Hoping that life will start to look up soon,

- Kevin
 

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Kevikins-

Would now be the appropriate time appropriate time for my ‘I told you so’? Too soon? I never know if it should come during the wallowing in self-pity or afterward.

Anyway, I was serious about talking to Walsh. If you want to get out, get out. You’ve already lasted longer than I did in SVU. Screw the résumé and do what makes you happy. Or at least sane. And alive.

                                   -Your deeply caring cousin Brian


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Brian –

Forgive me for not having written in a while; I’m not ignoring you, I swear.

I decided to try something new and followed your advice for once; I bit the bullet and discretely got ahold of Jason Walsh (sorry for dropping your name in the conversation – it got things done faster. You don’t mind, do you? I didn’t think so). 

He didn’t have anything for me at the second, but he did reach out to a few other precincts for me and found an open spot at the twelfth. Guess who just got back from his interview? Before you ask: no, I don’t know how it went. Everyone I met was awesome, but… well, I’m not gonna lie; my (hopefully) future partner scares me a little bit. He popped in to the interview halfway through, and I swear to God I mistook him for a Navy SEAL. He’s Latino, I think (Dominican? Cuban? I can’t really tell) and TOTALLY BUILT – his upper arms are a little bit intimidating. He looks like he could easily throw someone off the top of a parking garage. I’m thinking that I should probably avoid being on his bad side. 

I won’t know for another week or so whether I’ve got the job, so I haven’t put in my two weeks’ yet, but I’m anticipating leaving this department sometime soon. God, it feels fabulous! Like a breath of fresh air.

So as it turns out, you were right; I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I know, I know; you told me so. But you let me figure it out on my own with only minimal teasing. I knew there was a reason you were my favorite cousin. And…Brian?

Thank you.

--Kevin

 


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