catko: (Librar Ezek)
Fandom: The Librarians
Words: 401
Theme: Unusual Holidays, January; taken from this site: http://holidayinsights.com/moreholidays/january.htm

Cassandra glared at The Book, then let her gaze drift to the open air above it, eyes darting and fingers fluttering. “Hmphf,” she grumped. “Apparently January is a low time for magical action, just like it is in the ordinary world.”

“Post holiday slump,” called out Ezekiel, who was stretched out by the fire, chewing on licorice and gazing at a handheld device. “What do you expect on the day after New Year’s Day? Worst time possible for the thieving arts. Everyone stays home, hides out, pawns their valuables to pay off their excesses…..” He sighed, and stared toward the fire.

“Hey, man,” growled Stone, passing by with an armful of old maps. “If you’d stick to the lawful life, you wouldn’t need to worry about ups and downs.”

“Children, children,” said Eve briskly, coming down the stairs. “We’re just bored. If only you all would make good use of this down-time by practicing your self-defense.” The others groaned loudly, and Ezekiel made a great show of burrowing even deeper in the armchair.

“Well if we think our January’s boring, take a look at these funky holidays.” Jacob held up an old piece of newsprint. “Fruitcake Toss Day? Humiliation Day?” He chortled as the others, lacking anything better to do, gathered round.

“BEAN day,” scoffed Ezekiel. “I wouldn’t half want to avoid that one. Phew!” He held his nose in a broad gesture.

“Aw, Cuddle up day,” murmured Cassandra. “That sounds nice.”

“Well here’s something we can do to expand our minds,” said Jacob. “We can each pick a day and research it. Then, when the day comes, you can share the history with the rest of it. Who knows, buried deep in some of these might be some mythology that might come in handy.”

Ezekiel moaned, but then his eyes caught on the list. “January 9. Play God Day. That’s for me. Back later!” The others watched him head to the computer, rolled their eyes, and scanned the list for something to pick. “Feast of Fabulous Wild Men Day, the 12th,” proclaimed Eve. “I’m sure that’s got a great story behind it.”

“I’m deciding between Cuddle Up Day and National Hugging Day. That’s the 21st, so it gives me more time to plan something,” said Cassandra brightly. “And as for me,” said Jacob, “I’m going to look into Appreciate a Dragon Day.” He eyed the Back Door, then the maps in his hand, with speculation.
catko: (harley quinn)
...for [livejournal.com profile] lands_of_magic
Fandom: The Librarians
Words: 432
Notes: for the prompt "New Year's Eve"

Colonel Baird strode into the Library annex, whistling softly to herself, having just completed a security tour around the perimeter of the grounds. Hardly necessary, not on a holiday night, but bracing nonetheless. Once in the room, she looked around with surprise at the Librarians, engaged in random though characteristic activities. Jacob was at the long table, paging through a book that looked ancient and crumbly, his eyes lit with excitement. Ezekiel was slouched in a corner, thumbing at an electronic device that was presumably some type of video game. Cassandra was staring into space with her hands moving in front of her. And Jenkins was just coming down the stairs, a tea tray in his hands.

"What in all heck are all of you doing here ON NEW YEAR'S EVE?" As they all looked over or up at her, she checked her watch. "Ok, admittedly, it's only 7 pm. But shouldn't you be out celebrating?" She sat opposite Jacob at the long table as Jenkins drifted by, depositing the tea tray in front of her. "I mean after all. You could go anywhere in the world to celebrate. It might be 7 pm here, but it's sure to be midnight somewhere." She pointed to the Back Door and looked around indignantly. "Whoa, settle down, Nellie," Jacob intervened mildly. "Don't see you gettin' gussied up to go party in Berlin."

She shrugged. "Yeah, well. With Flynn off in Antarctica, I figured I'd just spend the evening here. Brush up on my tae-kwon-do." She made a few martial arts movements, catching the attention of Cassandra. "What? Oh, New Year's Eve. Well, yes, I was calculating the probabilities of attending an actual party and having fun." She shook her head as she stabbed at the air. "Highly unlikely. I'm going to play it safe."

"Never celebrated New Year's, ever," called out Ezekiel. "Always been a working night for me." He too gestured in the air, more in the nature of picking pockets and slipping jewelry off unsuspecting necks. He chuckled to himself as the others rolled their eyes.

"Well, as none of us seem to have any particular plans, maybe we should do a little something here," said Jacob. "That is, if Jenkins doesn't mind." Jenkins sketched a bow of welcome. "Perhaps the Back Door could be employed to bring items of revelry back here for us to enjoy. Let's see, where shall we start?"

Eyes alight, the Librarians and the Guardian gathered around, tossing out suggestions for where to go and what to get to celebrate the New Year in their own, magical way.
catko: (scorpion happy)
Fandom: Scorpion
Prompt: Weather
Words: 165

“Oh the weather outside is frightful, da-da-dahhh da-daahhh da-dah-dah,” Toby sang as he entered the Garage and locked the door behind him.

“What is THAT?” Happy, who had been coming forward to greet him, dropped back a step. “Is THAT…a Christmas Carol?”

Toby’s face softened, as it always did when seeing her; then he paused in thought. “Da-da-dadeda-dah dah dah…” he sang to himself. “….Let it snow, let it snow…Yup. Well, technically it’s a Christmas-season song, not a carol.” Arms outstretched, he ambled toward her.

She put up a warning hand. “Hold it right there. No Christmas carols. OR…” as he began to argue, “Christmas season songs.” Her glare froze him in his tracks. He parted his lips to protest, but then again, he knew his Happy. So instead he dropped his head, looked sheepish, and made a zipping motion across his mouth. She stared for a moment, then strode toward him, and, making an unzipping motion across his mouth, gave him a big kiss.

Fandom: Scorpion
Prompt: Holiday Song--Merry Christmas, Baby by Christina Aguilera
Words: 187

"Great job, Ralph. Who doesn't love a rendition of Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer?" called out Sly, adorned in a Santa's cap, as he clapped and waved Ralph back to his seat. "To call that a rendition is abject flattery," muttered Toby to Happy, as he took a swig of his whisky-spiced hot apple cider. "Strictly grade-school talent show quality." "Shhh, shut up," growled Happy, socking him on the arm. "He may be a genius, but he IS in grade school. You think you can do better, get up there." She gestured toward the makeshift stage where they'd set up a flatscreen, speakers, and a PS4 running Rock Star. "Nope, too late, there goes Paige," Toby grinned smugly. "Looking none-too-confident, and singing...uh oh. Christina Aguilera? Doubt she's got the chops for it." He settled back in his chair and threw slightly bruised arm around Happy's shoulders. But as the piano tinkled in, and Paige began belting out "Merry Christmas, baby, You sure did treat me nice, oh ooh yeah yeah..." he sat up in his chair, and joined in the surprised cheers and "woo-woos" of all the others.
catko: (cookies)
Title: The Dove Escapade
Rating: G
Word Count: (all lengths welcome)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction created for fun and no profit has been made. Rights belong to the respective creators.
Notes: Written for prompt #50 "Give Yourself The Day Off" for the [livejournal.com profile] dove_drabbles comm, which gives monthly prompts based on the phrases inside the wrappers of Dove chocolates.

“Da-da-da-da. Da-da-da-di, only the good die young….” Hardison sang tunefully as he moseyed into the main room. Pulling the Beats off his head,  he shook himself slightly, eyed the computer set up, and prepared to settle down at the table, feeling just a bit put upon. “At work at 8 am on a Sunday, man, either I got weak or Nate’s a total jerk,” he muttered. “‘Get the sweep done before Monday,’” he mimicked to himself. “Well okay, bossman, here I am.” He gave a look around the empty room, and his eyes lit on a glass bowl on the table. “Yeah, yeah, now that’s just what I need.” He reached over and plucked a foil wrapped candy, and held it up to his gaze. “Lil bit o’ chocolate to speed me on my way.” He peeled off the foil and was about to pop the candy into his mouth, when the inside of the foil caught his eye. He peered closer. “What’s this? A message in a wrapper? "Give yourself the day off”?” He looked from side to side, then at the computer, then at the chocolate. “Y’know what, my friend…” he flipped the foil over, “my friend Dove? I believe I will do just that.” Popping the chocolate into his mouth, he shouldered his backpack, flipped on his headphones, and sauntered out the door.

Parker pulled the hood of her sweatshirt off her head as she strode into the room, glaring at the digital clock on the wall, blinking 9:00. She parked herself on the edge of the table, swung her bag onto her lap, and began scrabbling around inside, lips moving in not-totally-silent cursing. Finally her hand grasped the desired object, which she pulled out with a glare and proceeded to turn the dials on what looked to be a very complicated combination lock of some kind. As if realizing this would take some time, she dropped resentfully into a chair, put her legs up just barely not on Hardison's keyboard, and prepared to apply herself to the lock. She'd show him, demanding this on a Sunday, stupid idiot, and here she'd planned to test out some new climbing equipment, and she'd never been any good at multi-combos, and ARGH! She slammed the lock down on the table. At the sound of a rattle, she quirked her head at the glass bowl and bent forward to grab a foil-wrapped object. Moments later she was up and out of the room with nary a look back at the lock sitting solidly on Hardison's mousepad, thinking about her climbing gear and a real nice rock wall at the gym on 12th Street.

Round about noon, Eliot could be seen hustling out of the building, security maps forgotten, romance on his mind and a small ball of foil rolling between his fingers.

Running her fingers through her hair, Sophie lounged into the empty room and looked around with an air of slight surprise. Thought Nate had laid down strict instructions that they were all to meet, Sunday notwithstanding, due to the rather massive failure of their recent caper. Sure, he'd said in the morning, but really, Sunday mornings were for beauty sleep, and after all, not like what she did needed practice, or homework, or anything tedious, not like the others, who, true, could stand to brush up on their skils, if the latest debacle was any indication. Even Nate wasn't here, and if the Taskmaster couldn't be bothered, then why should she? Still, a twinge of guilt, or maybe call it accountability, made her resigned to sit and listen to some dialect podcasts. Good to be sitting here working when Nate came back from wherever in a foul mood. As she bent to turn on the desktop computer, her eyes lit on the glass bowl. "Oooh, Dove candies, how do you do," she purred under her breath. Plucking one of the golden bits, she slowly unwrapped it and, as was her wont, checked the inside wrapper with her usual superstitious thought to take the self-esteem message to heart. "Give yourself the day off." Her lips curved in a smile. "Ah, well, when fate sends a message, who am I to resist shoe shopping?" With that, she slung her purse back on her shoulder and headed out.

Upstairs, Nate dozed in between reading the latest Jack Reacher, glancing at the security cams that intermittently framed his team moving in and out of the place, and occasionally nibbling on one of a pile of Dove chocolates that did not have "give yourself the day off" written on the inside of the wrapper.
catko: (joe_s)
Title: The Red Caper
Fandom: Leverage
Exact Word Count: 500
Does each drabble have exactly 100 words?: Yes
Word/Prompt Used?: Red!

Nate peered at the wall screen. “We gotta get these guys,” he muttered. “But it won’t be easy. Scam a scammer, needs the right angle.”

“Story of our lives,” proclaimed Hardison, as he scrolled on the laptop. “With the number of innocent people these dudes have ripped off, we gotta get em good.”

“I always fancy Red Tiara. Valuable artifact, lost heirs, great fortune?” Sophie looked seductively at Nate. “Me, lapsed royal, just needing a small investment from my long lost cousin. Best, it’s direct. Just get the money from the mark. Easy peasy.” She twirled her hair, looking pleased.

******
“There’s also Red Gem. Work on their business greed. Set up a fake import-export business, talk these guys into investing with us…make off with their loot. I don’t know. These dudes are pretty tough, and there’s always that one dicey point in the con where you might just have to fight…” Nate rubbed his jaw, perhaps remembering past adventures.

“Well that’s no big, we got Our Man here! Just get him to see red!” Harrison slapped Eliot on the back, lurching him forward.

“I’ll show you red,” grunted Eliot, punching his right fist into his left hand, as Hardison grinned.

************
“We could always go to the classics. Sherlock Holmes, The Red Headed League. Keep the mark busy with some faked-up, well-paid gig based on one of his distinguishing characteristics, while you dig a tunnel under his office.”

“A tunnel?”

“Well, just a metaphor. In this case, it’d be ‘buy time; hack into their database and get the incriminating evidence.’”

“Ah.” Hardison nodded. “Now you’re speaking a language that I understand.”

“Of course a more modern, tried and true version of this is the Caribbean Cruise. But getting these dudes tickets for a junket just won’t do it in this case.”
****
“All right, focus.’ Sophie began pacing around the table. “What’ll it be. The Red Tiara, The Red Gem, or The Red-Headed League?”

Nate ticked off his fingers. “Red Tiara: Sophie gets to play royal, but it means singling one out from the others, yet working them all at the same time. Could be tricky, especially if they don’t trust each other much. Red Gem, takes product to set it up, and the aforementioned risky part. Red Headed League, keep ‘em busy while we get the evidence. More straightforward, but…not much glamour.” He looked at the others, who all shrugged half-heartedly.

*****
Eliot glared. “Gad, I hate it when we can’t figure which plan to use. It’s like, we go in wishy-washy, it’s never gonna work out.”

Nate shrugged. “Here’s to letting fate decide. Or Parker, whichever comes first.” Just then, there was a rattle at the door and a a cheery “Yoo-hoo! Sorry I’m late, you wouldn’t believe the line at—What?” as she noticed they’d all turned to stare at her, open-mouthed. She paused. “It’s…just for fun. They call it ombre.” Quirking a grimace at their stunned expressions, she twirled awkwardly as her long, bright red hair spun out around her.
catko: (joe_s)
Fandom: Leverage
Characters/Pairing(s): The Whole Team
Rating: G
Word Count: 601
Words/Prompts Used: let the cat out of the bag (and more)

Nate stroked his chin slowly. "I think this situation calls for Letting the Cat Out of the Bag." He leaned back in his chair, took a swig of iced tea, and glanced across to Sophie. She looked thoughtful for a moment, gazed at the flatscreen, and nodded. "Ah, yes, indeed, Very appropriate. The Pig in the Poke. I can totally see it."

Read more... )
catko: (cards)
• 4 HQ screencaps (from any movie/tv show) (10 points)




• 100 words for the prompt "play the game" (10 points)
Sherlock and Mycroft play games )

•  2 icons that incorporate the shape of either hearts, diamonds, spades, or clubs (10 points)


•  2 sigtags that incorporate the shape of either hearts, diamonds, spades, or clubs (10 points)



•  1 larger graphic: Grrrrr this was a gif but I'm still having problems getting those to upload! Click for bigger.

Castle Fic

Sep. 28th, 2016 11:40 pm
catko: (Castle Martha)
Title: The Third Act--With Dessert
Fandom: Castle
Word Count: 381
Words/Prompts Used: All, underlined

Castle opened the door into the loft and began pulling off his necktie, mulling that the toughest part of testifying in court was that he had to wear a stiff suit and a noose around his neck. A loud cacophony of whirring startled him from his plaint, and he was startled to see his mother, in a tall white hat and apron, at the kitchen counter running a food processor and loudly proclaiming "Heat it slowly, Alexis dear, you want to carmelize the sugar without burning it!" as Alexis, hair tied in a checkered scarf, hustled around behind her waving a large spoon and peering over the stove where something was steaming.

Pausing with his tie half-tugged, Castle stared and approached the counter warily. "Um, Mother...what is...I've never seen you...what are you doing? COOKING?" His incredulity was papable.

Martha looked up and smiled brightly. "Not cooking, dear, and don't sound so surprised. I'm schooling myself to learn to bake.  I predict great things." Gazing at the dough in the Cuisinart, she nodded decisively and began to spoon it out onto a wooden board.

"Baking?" Castle couldn't hide the tone of incredulity (nor did he try to). Martha paused as she reached for the rolling pin, put her hands on the counter, and looked him in the eye.  "Yes," she said with an actress's emphasis. "Baking. A Tarte Tatin. That's apple pie to you. But with an added finesse."  She gave a dramatic gesture and proceeded to roll out the pie crust. “If there’s one thing I know at my age, Richard, is that one must keep the spirits alive with new things. It’s the Third Act!” Again she gestured, this time spraying a mist of flour around her.

“Third  Act? Aren’t you up to more like the Fifth Act?”

“Hush, dear, don't be vulgar. Take one of these to sweeten your sour words.” She pointed to a plate. “Homemade chocolate truffles with nougat, no less. Dessert first!” Castle tentatively sampled the morsel and was amazed to find it was delicious. Hmmm, he thought to himself, getting up to go change, maybe this 3rd Act of Mother’s wouldn't be all that bad, and promised himself to up his personal trainer to four days a week.
catko: (Default)
Title: At the Movies
Fandom: Elementary
Characters/Pairing(s): Joan and Sherlock
Rating: G
Warnings: Spoilers for the movie they are watching; see icon. Note: I didn't know how to resolve the "meta" elements, so I didn't try...
Word Count: 503
Words/Prompts Used: Movie Theater

Joan reached in the bag for another handful of popcorn--buttered, but why not--when she heard a snort from her left. Glancing over, she saw Sherlock hitching forward in his seat, finger raised, and mouth opening to (presumably) launch into some sort of commentary. Dropping the few kernals of popcorn, she quickly grabbed for his hand and quickly flashed the 'shush' gesture. He grimaced and subsided in his seat, drawing his knees up and glaring at the screen. Catching his eye, she gave a questioning look. He leaned toward her and blurted, while waving at the screen, "This is patently ridiculous. To approach the detection with such a single-mindedness, and for people to revere this insanity." Joan shrugged and whispered, "It's the only movie playing, and better this than wait out our confrontation with Landegris in his waiting room or lurking on the street corner for an hour. Anyway, I think it's fun." She settled back in her seat and munched some more popcorn. "It's a respite from thinking about how to catch a human trafficker."

Sherlock glowered and wagged his head from side to side as he tracked the dialogue of the characters on the screen. "In any case, it's specious to pit one form of detection against another. A good detective uses physical evidence, logic, and knowledge of human behavior. It would be totally ineffectual to only select one approach."

"Well, it's just a movie, and anyway I think it's a neat conceit. Famous psychiatrist, famous deductive detective, matching wits. The only one I don't care for is the sidekick. They make him out to be such a dolt." Joan picked up her Slushie and took a sip.

"Oh, I disagree entirely," said Sherlock, "I find that character to be the most believable, almost appealing. And the actor, Duvall, is incomparable." Joan glanced at her watch. "Well, too bad for you, because it's time to go. Landegris should be getting back to his office by now." As she gathered up her belongings, Sherlock jumped up, pushed past her, and began striding up the aisle. "However shall I survive, not knowing the conclusion to this half-baked affair!" he muttered. Joan trotted to catch up with him, and as they exited the theater, said perkliy, "Well, full disclosure, I read the book, decades ago, so I know how it ends."

In response to her partner's inquiring look, she continued. "The crux of the story is that the psychiatrist determines that the detective is deluded about the Master Criminal. That obsession, his desire to become a detective, and his--" she paused slightly, "his drug addiction, all stem from a childhood family trauma." Her companion paused as they reached the sidewalk. "Indeed. Well, perhaps that is a neat conceit. At any rate," as he began to stride on, "If from such trauma, good works come, who are we to question." Joan smiled to herself as she again trotted to catch up. "Sure. And speaking of good works...what's our approach to Landegris?"
catko: (Elementary Joan)
Missing Moments Challenge: Write about a missing scene; Wordless: Dialogue-free Challenge
Fandom: Elementary
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 4 finale
Word Count: 467

Joan tapped the glass, gestured toward the curb, and shoved a twenty into the slot as the cab slowed to a stop. She barely noted the cabbie's grateful wave as she gathered herself to step out onto the street. Unusually for her, she stumbled on the exit, and, steadying herself on the open cab door, realized that she was light-headed and bone-tired. She took a deep breath, closed the car door, and took three firm steps to the sidewalk. Looking up at the brownstone steps, she realized that it had been scarecely more than 48 hours ago that they'd gone home to find a homemade bomb in their parlour, and that the ensuing hours had been so strenuous--stimulating at points, yes, she had gotten a charge out of the caper with Vikner and the phone, and horrible, too, seeing that self-same man's body crumpled in the warehouse. Oh, god, the relief that it hadn't been Morland Holmes lying there dead. She'd been so drained by it that she'd barely registered Sherlock rushing off with hardly a blurted word--though it did occur to her that perhaps that had been his response to the relief, needing to get away so his emotions wouldn't show--leaving her test her calm by spending an hour and a half debriefing with Agent Burke back at headquarters. In her still-heightened state, it was a challenge that she had rather relished, and accomplished smoothly as far as she knew, but no doubt it had contributed to her current sense of depletion.

As she willed herself to mount the steps to home, she caught a flash of  movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see a figure move out from the shadows of the side passage. She gasped, and the figure turned toward her, just as a black SUV rounded the corner, shining its headlights on the face of -- Morland Holmes. Joan faltered as the flash of the expression on his face caught her in alarm--the intense, deep, unguarded sadness. She parted her lips to call out, but as the car pulled up, the face was once again in darkness, though she was sure she could see the eyes glittering, as Sherlock's father turned fully toward her, bowed deeply, then moved to be shephered briskly into the SUV by two looming figures. As the car pulled away, only just not screeching the tires, she was sure she saw a hand raise in the back window.

She actually watched the car recede down the street, realized her mind was at the moment completely blank, and looked up at the door of the brownstone, wondering what she would find behind it. Quickly trotting up the stairs, she found a sudden reserve of energy, and decided firmly that hot fudge sundaes were very much in order.
catko: (joe_s)
Title: #StarringJackSohn
Fandom: Elementary
Name of OC: Jack Sohn (played by John Cho)
Word Count: 402

Joan flung the door open and beamed. "Jackie!" she cried to the man standing, duffel in hand, on the stoop. "Oh, it's great to see you!"

The man dropped the duffel as he wrapped her in his arms. "Joanie, baby, likewise!" He held her at arm's length. "You're looking good, cousin," he winked. "Come in, come in," she urged him, and the two entered the brownstone, bumping shoulders and grinning happily. She gestured at the coat rack and eyed his duffel. "That's all you brought? Aren't you here for a while??

He dropped the bag, unwound the scarf, and pulled off his leather jacket, depositing all on or around the coat rack. "Aw, left most of my stuff at the theater, easier that way. Modern dress Shakespeare, wearing a lot of my own clothes." He stood and looked around the flat speculatively. Joan shrugged. "It's not much, but it's home. And then some." She gestured him through the dining room, past the lock wall and crime-photo-adorned fireplace, and drew him into the kitchen. "And here's the 'and then some.' She gestured at Sherlock, sitting intently in front of a laptop. "Sherlock!" she called with raised voice. "Head's up! My cousin's here! Jack, meet my flatmate and work partner, Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, my cousin Jack Sohn."

Sherlock jerked his head up and fixed the newcomer with his eagle-eyed stare. What he saw was an attractive man, about Joan's age, seemingly totally at ease, smiling and gazing right back. "Sherlock, pleased to meet you."

"Yes, indeed," responded Sherlock vaguely, then his voice sharpened. "Modern day Shakespeare? Off off Broadway, i presume?"

Jack laughed as he pulled up a chair. Joan bustled around, ultimately putting a mug of tea and plate of fruit and cookies in front of him. "Yeah, I know, sounds cheesy, but it's really kind of cool. It's ... well, they are pulling in all the non-white actors from LA and the provinces. Shakespeare of Color, y'know? Like, an artistic statement of sorts." He shrugged, a bit apologetically.

Sherlock leaned forward and his eyes gleamed. "Quite the contrary. I find such statements against...isn't it being called 'whitewashing'?...entirely apt and it is to be hoped successful at forcing a tipping point. Do tell me more about the parts you've been engaged to play." He plucked a piece of fruit from the plate and looked rapt as Jack expounded, and Joan looked on in amazement.

clubs john cho.jpg
catko: (Castle Martha)
...in progress...

Fandom: Castle
Characters/Pairings: Miscellaneous
Bingo Prompt used: See subheads
Word count: 277 so far
Note: If you want a visual, check out this recast I did once…

Gender Bender
Castle brushed her hair back and stared in the mirror. Presentable enough for a day trailing around Detective Beckett at a grimy crime scene. Now come on, Ricki, she admonished herself, you asked for this. Make the most of it. She strode out into the living room, where her dad and son were huddled over coffee cups at the counter. “I’m out of here,” she sang out, scooping up her shoulder bag and heading toward the door. They both waved, and went back to their musings as Castle exited the loft, checking her phone for the text that Beckett had sent with the address.

In The Beginning....
The cab pulled up next to the alley, and Castle hopped out, spotting Beckett and his team crouched over what must be the body near a large dumpster. Buoyed by an innate self-confidence, Castle strode forward and bent to scoot under the caution tape. "Hold on there, ma'am," interceded a uniformed officer. "It's okay, they're expecting me," Castle said brightly, mid-scoot. "Sorry, can't allow anyone in, official business only." The officer's raised voice drew the attention of the cluster around the dumpster, and Castle caught the eye of the man now straightening and grimacing. The man gave a few quick words to the two women bending down near him, and walked over toward Castle and the officer. "See, he'll tell you, Detective Beckett, I'm allowed, right?" Castle said as she slipped into the circle. The man nodded briefly at the officer, who retreated, and fixed Castle with a glare. "Yes, Ms. Castle, you're allowed. But over my strong objections. So you'd better not mess up my crime scene."

Crossover

Everybody Hurts

Freebie!

Difficult Decision

Betrayal!

24 Hours Earlier

Day Off Difficulties

March 2017

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