Rick Castle was awoken from his deep slumber by an incessant ringing by his ear. He knew who would be on the other end. No one else would ever call him at 4 in the morning, except maybe his mother looking for a sober cab at bar time should she have struck out. But still, that was rare.

"Morning Beckett," he chimed.

"Get up, we have a fresh one," Beckett informed him curtly while he threw his legs over the side of his bed to start his day.

"Sometimes I think you call me just to hear the sound of my voice," he sang back to her as he went about his closet getting dressed.

"No, that's you."

"Riiiiight, because I call you all of the time," he snarked.

"You called me last night to ask me what you should name the homeless guy in Nikki Heat! He is a homeless guy, who cares?! I certainly didn't need to hear about it at 2 am."

"Are you saying I used Timothy as an excuse to talk to you?!" Castle asked with feigned outrage.

"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying."

"Timothy is offended."

"You know, we have been in this relationship for 6 months you don't need an excuse like Timothy to call me," she stated softly, "Who names a homeless guy Timothy, anyways?" she scoffed back at him.

"Me."

"Clearly," Beckett paned, "Well we have a murder at Chelsea Piers. I'll be there in 10 so you better be there in 15. No excuses."

"Well someone's bossy this morning," Castle muttered as he pulled on his pants and began to button up his shirt before he continued, "Should've stayed over, I could've cheered you up," he paused, "So, Chelsea Piers, huh? Someone take a 2 iron to the shins?"

"I've been spending too much time there as it is and while that would certainly be painful, that is not an effective means of death, babe. I'll see you there and please for the love of God bring me my coffee," she finished before hanging up.

Castle went about finishing up getting ready and leaving his mother and Alexis a note before grabbing his coat and scarf before waltzing out his front door. When he walked out into the brisk March air he shucked in a deep breath and began walking up the block to the Starbucks two corners up from his place to get his and Beckett's morning caffeine fix. Coffees in hand, Castle was barely able to flag down a taxi but managed to get a cabby's attention. Castle noticed he was running behind Beckett's 15-minute stipulation and offered the cabby extra in his haste.

Castle arrived merely 5 minutes past due, but of course Beckett took notice as she snatched her coffee from his outstretched hand.

"Took your time gussying up this morning did you?"

"Had to. Couldn't very well show up at a crime scene at 4:25 in the morning looking like I just woke up, could I? Did I get the eyeliner, right? Oooh! How're my cheeks? I gave them a good pinch, wanted to have a good rosy color today," he cheekily returned.

"You shouldn't have gone through all of that trouble Castle."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I could always just make you blush," she smirked as she playfully grabbed his ass and strutted away towards Lanie with an extra sway of her hips.

Castle did indeed blush as he appreciated the view before taking a swig of his coffee and rushing off to join her at the scene.

"What've we got Lanie?"

Beckett asked as she knelt next to the M.E. at the foot of the victim. The body was sprawled out in the middle of the driving range. His head was bashed in and the rest of him clearly didn't fare much better as he was laid out at an awkward angle.

"Meet Marcus Terrance, 23, a ball boy here at the Golf Club and a victim of a blunt force trauma to the head as well as multiple contusions and abrasions to the rest of his body, which I can tell you more about when I get him on the table. Prelims show that the time of death anywhere from 12 – 2 this morning," Lanie reported while getting to her feet.

"Murder weapon?" Beckett asked following her friend.

"Not here," Esposito put in.

"Any speculation on what it was?" Castle requested.

"Well, based on what I have seen so far, I would say all of the victim's wounds were caused by the same item and that the item was no wider than 4 inches and no taller than 3. Definitely a club of some kind, given today's setting I would speculate that it was a golf club," Lanie said as she gave Castle a glance. He was now wearing his notorious shit-eating grin, "That is all I can tell you for now, but I will be able to give you a more definitive answer on that after the autopsy."

"Alright, thanks Lanie. Let us know when you find something," Beckett replied as Lanie walked off back to the M.E.'s van, the CSU techs delivering the body behind her.

"What did I tell you about the 2 iron?!" Castle exclaimed to Beckett.

"That he took it to his shins, but clearly he took it to his face, Oh Observant One," she shot back.

Castle muttered something about being mostly right but she ignored him turning to the boys and asking for the full run through. They revealed that Marcus Terrance was 23 years old and a recent college graduate who was originally from Newark. Moved to the city to attend NYU at 18. He worked at the Golf Club as a ball boy and as a bartender at a pub in Midtown starting that same year he started NYU. There were no witnesses to the crime as the range was closed at the time. The security guard discovered the body at 4 while doing his hourly perimeter checks for trespassers – usually just the local hooligans as the guard put it. The guard never heard or saw anything all night but after finding the body he checked all of the entrances and noticed the door to the bag room, which was previously locked, had been opened.

"O-kay," Beckett drawled out, "how did the security guard not notice anything earlier? If Terrance was killed between 12 and 2 but not discovered until 4 that means the security guard would have made at least 4 of those hourly perimeter checks and not have noticed a thing."

"Well I'm sure it was considerably darker than it is now when he made the checks. Also, he was killed in the center of the range so if the guard was checking the perimeter he may have been too far away to notice," Castle reasoned.

"Yeah, but the pier is narrower than most and the guard had to have had a flashlight. It just seems too fortunate for the body to have laid this long here while a guard walked by every hour to check things out," she argued before turning to Ryan, "Ryan go interview the security guard again and find out why exactly he never discovered the body until 4."

"On it," he called back while he whisked off to find the guard.

"Espo, coordinate with blues and canvas the neighborhood to see if anyone saw anything. Maybe a pedestrian remembered our vic entering the Golf Club. Castle and I will interview next of kin," Beckett ordered.

"Got it, boss."

"You think the guard was paid off?" Castle asked while they made their way to Beckett's cruiser.

"A second ago you were defending him, now you think he was bribed?" Beckett teased.

"I was merely trying to suggest a reasonable explanation, but I agree with you it is way too unlikely for the guard to not have noticed anything."

"Since when do you offer reasonable explanations?" she snorted.

"Maybe you're just rubbing off on me," he suggested.

"Maybe," she hummed, as she openly looked him up and down.

Castle merely leered back as they both got in the cruiser and sped off to the precinct. They were both finding it very hard to focus on anything but the various ways in which she rubs off on him.