It started off innocently enough.

Though, looking back, she should have known something planned by Lanie had the potential to go from safe to salacious in a heartbeat.

But at the time? It had sounded like fun. After Kate had laid down the rules, of course.

She thought she'd been sooo clever. That nothing could go wrong.

And in the end, it had spiraled so far out of control that the story took on legendary status within the NYPD and the coroner's office. An event that was so incredible…so unbelievable…that even people who weren't directly involved would pass the story along as if they'd seen it with their own eyes.

The infamous tale of Kate Beckett Castle's Bachelorette Party.

Eventually, she thought she might be able to laugh at it, too.

In thirty years or so.

"No strip clubs," Kate admonished, sending an I-mean-it glare at her best friend who promptly ignored her.

"Yeah, yeah, no strip clubs. I heard you the first twenty times on this subject, Kate Beckett. Sounds a whole lot boring to me, for a bachelorette party, but it's your funeral."

It was a good 6 weeks to her wedding, and Lanie was taking her maid of honor responsibilities very, very seriously.

Perhaps a bit too seriously, if some of her more ludicrous ideas she'd voiced to Kate in the past couple of weeks were any indication. Kate had already nixed jaunts to Atlantic City and Vegas. Hence, the need for ground rules for the audacious doctor. Lanie had a hard time understanding that Kate just wanted a nice night out with friends. She was long past wanting to swing from a chandelier.

"So, when are we doing this, anyway?" Kate wondered, picking at her salad.

The two were meeting at their favorite diner on this beautiful fall day. Rick had meetings at Black Pawn for the afternoon, so it had been the perfect time to plan what had become all too rare: a girl's day out.

"It's gotta be this next weekend. I couldn't get any time off closer to the wedding."

"Next weekend? That's kinda short notice, dontcha think?"

"I don't have a choice, Kate. Perlmutter flat out refused to change his plans."

"Perlmutter? Has plans? Doing what?"

"Some lepidopterist meeting. Said he 'couldn't possibly miss it', especially not for any plans that further your wedding to 'Castle.' Ever notice the way he says Castle? He makes it sound like a curse."

"He's never really warmed up to Rick, has he?"

"Um, no. Hope you didn't send him an invite, 'cause the man has a serious case of the odium Rickium that only a Castlectomy will cure."

"Huh? A 'Castlectomy?'"

"Never mind, girlfriend. Let's just say Perlmutter isn't Writer Boy's biggest fan. Now, I've already spoken to some of the other girls. Most everyone can make it next weekend, so you need to tell me that it's fine. And if it's not, then you need to make it happen anyway."

Kate sighed. Lanie was a force of nature; any arguing would be fruitless. "Who else is coming?"

"Well, obviously the other bridesmaid. Which would be Alexis. Also, Jenny. Maddie. Few of the girls from the precinct. Oh, and Martha."

"Martha?"

"Yeah, she wanted to come, and since you've ordered me to keep it on the quiet side I thought we needed a little crazy to lighten things up."

"So you invited my future mother-in-law?"

"Well, you gotta admit, she's not like most women her age."

"True. Which kind of worries me, to be honest."

"Yeah, but we got Alexis to balance us out. She'll keep us in check."

Kate nodded, accepting the logic. How much could go wrong if Lanie had invited Alexis? "Ok, this Saturday works for me. Where are we meeting?"

"I want everyone to come to my house first, then we'll head to the restaurant. I got us a limo; keep everyone together that way. It'll be fun. Even without some hotties strutting their stuff for us."

Kate rang Lanie's door exactly on time. She knew that Martha and Alexis had left a good half hour earlier…to 'get ready,' whatever that entailed. From the sounds of things when the buzzer was answered they were already well into the booze.

"C'mon up, girl!" a tinny Lanie yelled through the box. Shooting an apologetic smile at the frowning doorman, Kate headed towards the elevator.

Laughter spilled down the hallway, welcoming her to the fun activities planned for one of her last weekends as a single woman. Suddenly, Kate's heart lifted. These friends—and soon to be family—wanted to celebrate with her. Shaking off her preference for a quiet night at home with Rick, she took a deep breath and let it out in a big sigh. She'd have plenty of time with her fiancé. This party was in her honor, and she was determined to enjoy it.

The door was flung open just as she reached it. Pulled in by eager arms, Kate found herself in short order with a drink in one hand, a crown on her head, and a sash declaring her a 'Bride to Be' emblazoning her chest.

"We're just waiting for one more," Lanie shouted over the music. Her friend had outdone herself: all the furniture had been moved against the wall, leaving a large open space that was currently occupied by several of the women dancing to the electronic music playing over the stereo.

Martha was swaying in place on Kate's left side, with what had to be drink number two or three next to her. Streamers and crepe paper decorated the periphery of the room. It was quite festive, and Kate found herself tapping her foot to the beat.

Later, she would distinctly remember thinking 'what fun' as one of her favorite songs brought her onto the impromptu dance floor with Maddie. One night out with friends wasn't going to kill her, after all.

Of course, no one could have predicted just how her jubilant night would soon go remarkably, horribly wrong.

When the knock pounded on the door, Kate didn't really think twice about it. Lanie had said that they were waiting for one more, after all.

"Hey, Kate, can you get that?" Lanie hollered. She'd disappeared into the kitchen a moment before while everyone else was busy dancing.

Kate didn't notice that her friends were squealing even louder than they had been five minutes ago.

Though it was far too late to stop this particular train, even if she had suspected something.

She opened the door. She expected to find another woman. She got a firefighter instead.

A firefighter with a boom box.

"Pardon me, ma'am. But I got a report that it's getting a little too hot in here."

Kate stood, open mouthed. Speechless. She'd told her! No…oh.

She'd said no stripclubs.

She'd forgotten to extend the corollary.

And Lanie had grabbed the bull by the horns.

So to speak.

By now, the rest of the very excited ladies had gathered behind her, cat calling and squawking that they were on fire and needed his personal help.

Lanie had magically reappeared. "C'mon, let the poor man in," she exclaimed, pulling Kate inside by an arm. Everyone followed, yelping and chittering about how gorgeous he was.

It was true: the man was built like a Greek God. He was about six feet tall, broad, tanned and muscular—at least what she could see of him. He was outfitted in a full fireman's uniform, from the helmet to the boots.

Striding confidently into the middle of the room, he set the boom box on the floor, out of his way, then turned to address Kate.

"You must be the woman of the hour. Well, your friend Lanie here told me that you all needed to be fired up for a special night out. That's what I'm here for, ladies. My name's Tim and I want you all to light it up with me."

Stooping down, he flicked on the music. As it pulsed out, Tim started dancing. The squeals got louder and louder as he gyrated expertly, twirling around the floor and showing teasing glimpses of his six pack abs and massive biceps.

Kate turned to Lanie, disbelief still on her face. "I told you no strippers!"

"No, girl, you said no strip clubs. There's a difference."

"Not really!" Kate yelled, a reflexive smile painted on her face as Tim pranced by her.

"Oh, lighten up, darling. Live a little!" Martha called, following Tim in a spontaneous conga line.

Kate's mouth dropped open again. Was she really so fuddy-duddy these days that her almost mother-in-law thought she was too prim?

"It'll be fine, Kate. It's just for ten minutes or so, then we'll go to dinner. Just relax and enjoy it," Alexis whooped.

So, Kate threw off her reservations and relaxed. While she wasn't as enthusiastic as some— cough, Maddie, cough—she still let herself enjoy the spectacle.

And what a spectacle it was. Tim was a gifted athlete and entertainer. He knew what his audience wanted, and what they wanted was for him to lose his clothes. One by one each item came off as he slid around the room. Each woman got a piece of his costume as it came off until he was just wearing his pants.

As the music built to a crescendo and the excited screams peaked, he ripped off the tear-away trousers, revealing his crowning glory contained behind a magnificent G-string.

It was firehouse red, with shiny metal beads in the shape of flames leaping up from his well-endowed tip. Never failing to drive his audience crazy, it did not disappoint. Even Kate started hooting when she saw what Tim had to offer.

With all his clothes now off, Tim got busy dancing with even more enthusiasm. There were leaps, flips, and thrusts, driving the women into a frenzy.

His pièce de résistance was a real showstopper.

Literally.

Rick had just welcomed his guests—Javi and Ryan—into the loft when he heard his phone ringing. He and the boys were planning on playing some Call of Duty and putting away some pizza while the girls were out enjoying themselves.

Kate had only been gone for an hour, so he knew it wouldn't be her. With his mother and Alexis out with Kate, and the boys with him, there weren't a lot of people left who might be calling him on a Saturday night.

Without glancing at the caller ID, he flicked the answer button while trying to juggle cans of beer and the snacks into the living room where Javi was already schooling Ryan. Pinching the phone between his shoulder and his ear made it very difficult to hear the other party, especially since he was distracted by the explosions on the big screen where Ryan was about to be killed yet again.

"H'lo. Rick Castle here."

"Richard, oh, Richard!"

"Watch out, Ry….oh, man. Better luck next time," he exhaled, dropping the bowl of popcorn on the table and tossing the brewskies to the boys.

"Richard!" It was his mother's voice, he suddenly realized. A chill ran down his back as he leapt back up from the chair he'd been settling into.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Richard, can you hear me?"

Grabbing the remote he muted the TV, eliciting groans from the boys until they saw him glaring at them.

"What is it, Mother? I thought you were with Kate and Alexis. Is everything ok?"

"No, Richard, it's not. There's been an accident. Kate's hurt. We're following the ambulance."

"What happened?" he shouted, running to his room to grab his shoes. Hopping on one foot as he put them on, he grabbed his coat and swept another arm impatiently at Javi and Kev. He could feel his heart beating a thousand times a second and his stomach was clenched tight.

"Was it a car accident? Is she alright?"

"No, not a car accident."

"Where are they taking her?" he demanded, ushering the boys out the front door—barely remembering to lock it in his rush to get to his fiancée. He ran for the elevator, guys right behind him. They knew it was serious from the small bits of the conversation they were catching on Rick's end.

"Presbyterian," his mother replied.

"I'll meet you there," he promised, hanging up so he could run down the stairs when the elevator proved too slow.

"What's going on, Castle?" Ryan yelled as they pounded down the stairs. "Who's hurt?"

Rick's terse reply was enough to get them all in the car and on the way as quickly as possible.

Martha saw him first. He'd just run into the Emergency Room's waiting area, trailed closely by Javi and Kevin.

"Richard, over here," she trilled, waving her hand. She was standing with Lanie, waiting for her son's arrival. Kate had wanted Alexis to stay with her as they waited for the doctor to assess her.

"Where is she?" he panted. "Where's Kate?"

"She's back there with Alexis, waiting for the doctor."

"Where?" Rick perseverated, standing on his toes to try and peer into the depths of the ER. He didn't see any sign of Kate. Glancing down again, he glared at Lanie. "I thought this was a simple dinner out with friends. What happened?"

"Well, about that, Castle. We were at my place before leaving for the restaurant, and there was…a little accident."

"Little? Kate's in the ER. I wouldn't call whatever happened little."

"You're right. It wasn't…little. Not exactly. But, she's gonna be ok. Just has to have some x-rays, see the doctor, and I'm sure she'll be sent home."

"I want to see her."

"Yeah, well, before you do, I just want to warn you..."

"Warn me? About what?"

"Well, she kinda broke her nose. There was a lot of blood, but it's stopped now."

"Broke her nose? What happened? Did she fall?"

Lanie fidgeted. "Noo, she didn't fall."

"Did some jealous fan punch her?"

Lanie glared at him. "Really? You think you've got fans running around so distraught that you're getting married that they attack Kate? I don't think so, Writer Boy."

"Hey, I've got some crazy fans," he protested. "Well, if she wasn't punched and didn't fall, did she walk into something? Like a lamp post?"

"Yeah, I heard of something like that with people who were texting," Ryan chimed in.

"No, darling, nothing like that. She didn't walk into anything or fight with anyone," Martha squeezed Rick's hand, though it barely registered with him. He was still peering into the ER, hoping to see a clue to Kate's location.

"Then what? Did something hit her? Like a baseball or something?" Espo demanded.

"That's a bit…closer," Lanie replied. "Something hit her, but it wasn't—well, it wasn't really a ball."

"Then what? C'mon, Lanie, spit it out." Rick was tiring quickly of all the stalling. He just wanted to make sure Kate was ok.

"Well…I invited a guest that Kate didn't know about. It was entirely my idea; she really had no clue, ok?"

"Just get to the point, Lanie!" Rick groaned.

Martha burst out laughing, soon joined by Lanie as the men looked at them as if they'd lost their minds. "Yes, Lanie, get to the point," Martha chortled.

"You know what? I'm glad you two find this all so amusing. I'm done. I'm going to find Kate." He stalked off down the hall, only to be followed by the rest of them. He ignored their nattering—reaching Kate was the only thing he could think of right now.

After a few wrong turns, Lanie took pity on him and grabbed his arm. Pulling him behind a curtained cubicle halfway down the corridor, he gasped when he saw her.

"Kate, my God. Are you ok?" He rushed to her side and grabbed her hand as she tried to peer at him.

"Cathle? That you?"

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here." He stared at her, feeling helpless. Her nose was clearly broken, swollen several sizes and with a faint trickle of blood still oozing from her left nostril. However, that wasn't the only damage. Both eyes had full black shiners and were swollen to mere slits. He wondered if she could see anything at all.

Leaning over, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank goodness you're ok," he whispered. Kate squeezed his fingers.

"Gonna be fine, Cathle," she whispered back.

Straightening up, he turned to face the others gathered around the foot of her bed. Pinning Lanie with a glare, he started to demand details when he felt something hard shoved against the back of his knees.

"Dad, here. Sit down. Please?" He'd missed his daughter standing in the back of the exam room. Feeling better that she, at least, was safe he sat, still clutching Kate's hand in his. Alexis reached over, rubbing his back, and he released some of the fear and anger that had fueled his stampede until now.

"Could someone just tell me what happened?" His voice was tired; strained. Kate squeezed his hand again and sputtered, "Wath minding my own bidneth, thwear babe."

He chuckled, in spite of himself. "I'm sure you were, Kate. Now, Lanie was telling me that this was her fault." Raising his eyebrows, he waited for the story to resume.

"I'm not denying it, Castle. I told you it was my idea."

"To use her face as a piñata? Great plan, Lanie."

"Richard, hush. Let Lanie tell you what happened."

"I'm not forgetting you were there, Mother."

"Yes, darling. It was all great fun…well, right up until the end, that is."

Rick huffed but kept quiet when Lanie started explaining. Finally.

"So, as I was saying, we were just waiting for the last guest. Whom I invited. His name is Tim, and well…Tim's a…stripper."

"What? She said she told you no strippers. Besides, what's a stripper got to do with this, anyway?"

"I agreed to no strip clubs, ok? And I'm getting to it, just hold your horses."

Rick glared at the woman, but she just glared right back. Intimidation was a lost cause on Lanie Parrish.

"Anyway, Tim finally got there, started doing his thing, and, well, pretty soon he's down to just a sparkly little G-string."

"Okay," Rick drawled, still very unclear as to what had happened.

"What was he dressed as?" Ryan burst out. Everyone turned to look at him. "What? It's important! If he were like a construction worker, maybe he threw his hard hat and hit her. Not that I've ever seen a male stripper construction worker. I just heard about it. Never mind," he muttered, eyes downcast as the others kept staring.

"Was he a construction worker, Lanie?" Espo urged. "Was he?"

"What? No! He was a fireman, ok? And no, he didn't throw any of his clothes and hit her with them. He threw them to the other women as he went. Now stop interrupting me!"

Gasping for air, Lanie tried to calm down. "Ok, well, let's see. Tim was down to his G-string. He was dancing to the music as he stripped, but once he was down to the…bare bones…well, things changed."

"Changed how?"

"Let's just say that Timmy apparently at some point in his life fancied himself a gymnast."

"Still. Not. Getting. It." How could a gymnast break Kate's nose? Why would he do that?

"He was doing some nice little tricks, showing off that nice body of his. Everyone was going crazy for it, and I think he got a little too pumped up on the adrenaline."

Rick stared, trying to make sense of it all. Lanie took a deep breath and continued.

"So, then the music changes, and you could tell it was the…peak…of the whole show. Kate was sitting in a chair, with all of us sitting in a big circle along the room. Tim moved to the edge, as far from Kate as possible, and then—well, it was the grand finale. He started doing these front flips towards her. It was pretty incredible, really. But, well, he misjudged a bit on the last flip."

"He landed on her?" Rick and Ryan gasped at the same time.

"Um, nooo. Not exactly. Not…all…of him."

"His arm hit her?" Rick asked. He could picture it, an over-muscled buffoon striking her in the face.

"No."

"Kicked her. With his boot or his foot." That was Ryan's idea.

Lanie shook her head.

"Smashed her in the face with his big ol' noggin, like a soccer ball," Espo shouted.

"Um, well, not his…hmmm. Ok, not his…noggin."

"Then what the hell, Lanie?" Rick couldn't think of any other body part…unless…no. Surely not.

"Well, as he rotated around on the final front flip, he didn't leave quite enough room to land, and…ok, this is hard to imagine without being there, but, well, his—um—his G-string hit her nose." Lanie winced, waiting for it to sink in. The men just looked at her, mouths hanging open.

It didn't take long.

"Wait a minute. So, you're saying his…G-string…hit Beckett in the nose? And broke it? Is that what you're saying, chica?"

"Yeah, Javi, that's what I'm telling you."

"I don't get it. G-strings aren't very heavy," Kevin sputtered. "Unless…Lanie, what was it made of?"

"Bro, he wasn't waving it around. He was still wearing it. Right?" Espo looked at the women, who all nodded.

Kevin looked confused for another moment before the light dawned in his eyes. "You mean to say that he hit her with…his…his package?"

"Yeah. He hit her with his schlong? His Johnson? His wanger?" Espo snorted, unable to keep going.

"Well, he was kinda well endowed, and obviously physics was not his best class," Lanie protested as Espo and Ryan convulsed into hysterical laughter. Rick simply sat, gaping at everyone. Kate tugged at his hand, though getting his attention took a bit of time.

"At leath there's a good month before the wedding, babe."

"I don't care about that, Kate. You got hurt. I hate to see you in pain."

"I'll be ok, though."

"Thank goodness."

"Rick?"

"Yeah, Kate?"

"Promith me you won't wear a G-tring anytime thoon. Pothibly ever."

"Promise. No flips, either."

"I wathn't worried about that."

"Just think, Beckett," Espo interrupted. "No one will ever top this story. Ever."

And it was true. Many people had interesting or mildly titillating bachelor and bachelorette stories to tell. Rick would listen, a small smile gracing his lips as he waited for the end. When the tale was concluded, he'd clap the teller on the back and say, "That was a cute story. Now, let me tell you about my wife's party…"

Finis

This, like many tales, is rooted in the truth. My friend Tisha was the bachelorette. The stripper was dressed as a policeman. The injuries were just as described. Luckily, her wedding was 2 weeks later and so she had some time. It is, without question, the best bachelorette story I've ever heard.