Recognition Failure

"You look very familiar," Hodgins said, eyebrow raised.

Castle quirked an eyebrow back. "I was here yesterday. Remember? Helping Brennan with that serial killer thing?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course. I meant from something else."

"Oh." He shoved his hands into his pockets, though they didn't stay there long. He soon began fiddling with a bone that had been left on the table.

"Don't touch that!" Hodgins swiped the bone away from him. "You could damage it."

Castle shrugged and began to tap the fingers of one hand on his thigh, as if drumming them to a song heard only by him. "So, how am I familiar?"

"Did you ever have a job on a plane? Or, no. That's not quite right. A spaceship, perhaps?"

Castle's fingers stilled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Okay, how's this then? Have you ever shot a gun? Worn a long, brown coat?"

Silence. Then, "Why?"

"This is going to sound crazy, but... are you Nathan Fillion?" Hodgins stared at him intently, awaiting an answer.

Castle scoffed. "Nathan Fillion? Nah. That guy's awesome, though. I dress up as Mal for Halloween, every year. My daughter," he fell silent a moment, smiling at the thought. Then, he remembered his audience. "She thinks I need to move on."

His phone buzzed. He fished it out as Hodgins replied.

"Ha," Hodgins said, though he was still eyeing Castle with some hesitation. "Well, if you're sure."

"Sure, I'm sure. Sometimes people call me Hammer out on the street, though. Weird." Castle shrugged and lifted his phone, gesturing at it with his other hand. "Well. I'd best be off. My roomie lost his job at a pizza place. I'm requested a half day today so I can go help him out. He's wondering where I am."

Hodgins swallowed. "Right. Nathan. Er, Castle."

Castle smirked and lumbered off. As he waved goodbye to Brennan and the other squints, he wondered if Pete was still dating that desperate housewife across the hall.

Fin.