A/N: How did this little seed of an idea get into my head? I don't know, but since I am both a Castle fan and an avid Gleek, its crossover time! Here we go!

P.S: This takes place during the summer. Nationals are over (ND won!), Finchel is finally back together, Klaine's goin' strong, Esplanie (as Castle calls it) is goin' great, Ryan and his fian- er, wife are honey-mooning in the Hamptons (courtesy of Castle), Beckett is A-OK, and Caskett… its complicated.

Beckett's POV

Monday, July 13th, 8:30 A.M. Greater Manhattan Area.

You'd think that there'd be less crime in the summer. You'd be dead wrong.

I stepped into the alley, getting strange looks from some of the other cops on the scene.

Well, they had good reason to be surprised. Two reasons, actually.

One was that this was my first time at a crime scene since being shot last spring. Apparently the bullet just missed my heart and just tore through a few ribs.

The other thing, and this was really a big one nowadays, I was noticeably writer-monkey -less. Castle, strangely enough, had failed to get to the scene before-

"Beckett! You're late."

Scratch that last part. Damn that writer-monkey and his quickness.

"Morning, Castle." I sighed, taking my coffee from him. "Who's the vic?"

Esposito looked at me, startled. "Beckett? Are you okay enough to be-?"

"Esposito, just because I just completed physical therapy after getting shot at the Captain's funeral doesn't me I'm infirm now. You got an I.D on this guy or what?"

Esposito blinked, and then gestured to the lifeless corpse that Lanie was crouching next to. It was a well-dressed middle aged man, with dark curly hair that was partially gelled back. The look in his hazel eyes was one of pure terror. But the thing that stood out the most was the bullet-hole right between the eyes. Literally. He would have been handsome, had he not been dead.

"Uh, Thomas Anderson, late 40's, had an office up the street."

"Wait, Thomas Anderson as in the politician?" I asked, shocked. The man had been on the news just yesterday.

"Isn't he a New York Senator?"

"No, Castle, he's the President of the Hobbits." I said, rolling my eyes. Though he actually did look a lot like a hobbit…

"Oh please. Hobbits left Middle Earth centuries ago." Castle stated. "Plus, they're not real." He quickly added.

"Thought you sounded smart when you said that, huh, Castle?" I teased, turning to Lanie. "How long's he been here?"

"The dishwasher at the restaurant next door found him about eight. Based on the stiffness and temperature, I'd put the time of death between 1 and 4 A.M."

"Alright. Bag him up.

"God, I hate this part."

"What, the telling the family part? Well, yeah, I mean, it's not like anyone expects it to happen."

"I know, it just never gets any easier. This is it."

Castle and I walked up the steps of the large corner-house the victim had lived on. Since no one had picked up the phone, we had to resort to actually visit the victim's family.

Without hesitating, I rang the doorbell. Someone yelled, "Be there in a sec!" About a minute later, the door opened to reveal a young, curly-haired brunette woman who seemed about twenty-ish. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, is this the Anderson residence?"

"Uh, yeah. Who're you?"

I held up my badge. "Detective Kate Beckett. I'm here about Thomas Anderson."

The woman pushed a dark curl out of her face. "Uh, Dad's not here right now. Oh, God, what did he do now?"

"Well, it's not really what he did, it's more his current state." Castle explained.

She just stared at him. "Wha…?"

"Miss Anderson, you may want to sit down…"

"He's dead?"

"I'm afraid so. A dishwasher found him stuffed in the dumpster in an alley."

"Oh my God…" The young woman, apparently named Corrine, put a hand up against her mouth.

"Corrine, when was the last time you saw your father?"

"About three yesterday afternoon. He said he was just gonna go to work and then maybe get a drink with one of the other guys."

"Did he say who?"

"No! God, what the hell? Why would anyone kill Dad?"

"That's what we're trying to find out. Did your father have any enemies?"

"Just Democratic Liberals. The only other person outside of work who didn't really like Dad was Blaine."

"Who's Blaine?" Castle inquired.

"My little brother." Corrine stated, and then she shook her head. "The two of them had a bit of a falling out three years ago. It… was a hard time for everybody."

"What was the cause?"

Corrine hesitated, and then sighed. "Dad is… Dad was like, the most conservative guy ever. And three years ago, Blaine came out to us."

"Oohh." Castle said, drawing out the 'oh'. "Well, that could certainly put a damper on things."

"Where's your brother right now?"

"In Ohio, spending the summer with his friends and boyfriend. Why?"

"We can't rule anyone out just yet."

"Oh, please, Blaine can't keep a secret worth crap. He'd have confessed to the murder by now. Besides, he's in Ohio."

The front door opened. "Who's in Ohio?" A woman called, walking into the living room. She looked about 45, and she was Asian. "Corrine, who are these people?"

"Mom…" Corrine started, running to embrace her mother.

"Mrs. Anderson, I'm Detective Beckett. I'm here about your husband."

"Tom? What's going on?"

"H-He's dead, Mom. D-Daddy's dead." Corrine stuttered, releasing her mother.

Mrs. Anderson stood shocked for a moment, and then dropped to the floor.

Kurt's POV

Monday, July 18th. 12:31 P.M. Lima, Ohio.

"No."

"Please?"

"No, Blaine."

"Pretty please?"

"I said no, Blaine."

"Pretty pretty please with Red Vines on top?" Blaine begged, giving me his best puppy dog face.

"… Fine. We can watch the stupid kid's movie."

"Hey! Aladdin is not just a kid's movie! I'll have you know that the genie was the one who first got me into singing."

"Of course you'd be inspired by a cartoon character…" I muttered.

Before Blaine could start the movie, however, his phone started to blast out a tune.

"Mother knows best, listen to your mother, it's a scary world out theeeeeeeeeeeeeeere! Mother knows best, one way or another, something will go wrong I sweeeeeeeeeeeeearr!"

I stared at my boyfriend. "Blaine, I think we need to talk about your obsession with Disney movies…"

He chuckled and showed me the caller I.D. "It's my mom. I thought the song fit the octopus…"

"Well, see what she wants!"

"Okay, okay!" He clicked answer. "Hello? … Mom, are you okay? Why are you crying? … WHAT?" Blaine yelled, bolting up from the couch. "M-Mom, if this is a joke, it's not… Oh my God… Send Gramp's private plane. I'll get there as soon as I can. … Okay. Love you too. Bye…" He hung up.

"What happened?" I asked.

Blaine turned to me. He looked like he was about to cry. "Kurt… the police came to my house this morning. My dad's been murdered."

A/N: DUN DUN DUN! (sorta…) Next chapter: It's back to NYC for one Kurt Hummel. Of course, this time, the trip is for more painful reasons…

Please, favorite, review, whatever! See you next time!