Disclaimer: I do not own any of the phenomenal characters from Castle but I do own this shameful tid bit of story.

Chapter 1


She is definitely an INFJ, he thought. A little introverted and secretive, a lot intuitive, always self sacrificial to benefit others, and her decisions were calculated but occasionally risky. They were all the qualities that made her extraordinary to him.

He glanced over the magazine he was holding, the front cover of which was turned over, creasing the binding and making it scaled to the size of a single page: all to get a view of a certain female detective. The sheet at the forefront was entitled Personality Test: Find Your Fit. His eyes lingered over the page watching her wrists fluidly work a pen over paper. The burning sensation made her turn her head towards his propped frame. His legs were cradled by a separate metal chair, offering him the opportunity to stretch out a bit. She twirled slightly in her chair, making eye contact briefly before he jerked the paper back up to cover his drifting eyes.

"Castle," The name was soft yet stern from her flush lips; her pen agitatedly fell from her fingers under the dim desk lamp. "What have I told you about watching me?" Beckett's full auburn hair gathered into wispy flips and tangents: playful, despite her slightly scrutinizing expression. In mock surrender, he straightened his posture and lifted his hands, "it's creepy," he mocked. "But actually," he trailed off, leaning his elbows on the side of her desk, "I was studying you." His eyes gleamed and an eyebrow was raised in intrigue.

Detective Beckett frowned in light distaste, "even creepier." She shuddered to add effect.

"Well I think I just may have cracked one of New York's finest detective's personalities." His voice dripped with charm and the usual interest. In response, Kate sat back with her arms folded across her chest. The olive colored v-neck blouse she wore pooled at her hips before it met the chocolate brown leather of her belt and deep blue of her jeans. She licked her lips in curiosity while the dark brown leather jacket draped over her chair squeaked. "Really," she exaggerated the length of the word skeptically while crossing her legs slowly. Rick's eyes traveled the length of her legs, occasionally giving himself a mental reminder of what would happen if he were caught.

He cleared his throat casually and held up the magazine.

"I've got you pegged."

"Oh?"

"Take a look. It's circled." He smiled in triumph, urging the thin paper edges towards her.

Beckett's slender hand slid the magazine from his grasp allowing her smoky eyes to scan through the article. It was just a list of personality types as dubbed by the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. Under each four letter type was a description of attributes depicting how each type handled certain situations or how they lived their lives in general. Circled lazily in black ink was the paragraph:

INFJ: INFJs tend to be quiet and reserved. They generally prefer interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and they expend energy in social situations (whereas extroverts gain energy). They tend to be more abstract than concrete, focusing their attention on the big picture rather than the details, and on future possibilities rather than immediate realities. INFJs tend to value personal considerations above objective criteria. When making decisions, they often give more weight to social implications than to logic. They also tend to plan their activities and make decisions early. They derive a sense of control through predictability.

The detective leaned towards Castle, closing the distance slowly and bewitchingly, keeping her eyes locked on the page. Richard Castle's breath hitched as if a valve had been cut off.

Amidst the occupied desks of policeman, heads began popping up dangerously to peruse the situation, two of those familiar. Esposito tapped Ryan eagerly on the chest to grab his attention. Both were wearing the same expression: a mix of shock, interest, and horror.

Delicate digits wrapped gently around the collar of the charming writer's crisp burgundy shirt, the buttons popped characteristically to enhance his appeal. Her eyes finally jerked away from the reading and onto his solid features; perfect teeth encased her own bottom lip in a seductive caress. The silence that flooded the building was minuscule compared to the mounting tension. It was as if no one could breath and all they could do was stare. Her cocoa eyes fluttered down nervously beneath thick, alluring lashes shyly and then:

"Introverted?!" Castle jerked back from surprise, her sexiness turning into fuming hate speech. The onlookers surrounding them kept quiet, attempting to look less inconspicuous. "I expend energy," she quoted while letting go of his collar. "So basically, you think I'm a killjoy?" Beckett's inquiry put fear into Castle; her eyes looked down at him dryly and her lips were pressed into a thin line. How should he answer that?

"No..." he hesitantly stated. "What I was saying was a good thing." Soothingly, his voice delivered the conversation out of the spot light.

In truth, Beckett knew he was right on the money with his diagnoses but she never missed a moment to play him. Actually, she was impressed at how easily he could identify her type. She'd taken similar tests before and had gotten the same result. It was known as the Protector type and it suited her well.

And although she was putting him down for calling her introverted, he was right. She only opened up whenever she wanted, about whatever she wanted, and to whoever she wanted.

Her eyes scanned over the page again; Castle leaned in closer out of curiosity. His eyes awaited her next move. But after a moment of silence, he spoke.

"You could always size me up. I mean it's only fair." The words spilled from his grinning lips quietly, eliciting a shifty glance from the detective.

"You're disgus-," just as Detective Beckett was about to finish her statement, the one person who was undisturbed by the duo's show casually walked out of his office. His bald head shimmered slightly with a bit of light from his office window.

"Save it for the slumber party." Captain Montgomery strode over to Castle and Beckett, the latter of which was straightening up, becoming attentive to what he had to say. "You're headed to West 34th street. Go check out the convention center down that way."

"Sir?" Beckett acknowledged, but she wanted more details.

"They just called and said this would be up your alley. Here." Montgomery handed her a small piece of paper with the address to the convention center and shrugged while walking back towards his office, "now I've got more work to do, so get going." Beckett nodded, glancing at the other half of her team.

"Esposito, you and Ryan meet us at the Jacob K. Javits Center in Midtown." She glanced at the paper again while the two she addressed grabbed their jackets, "it's at 635 West 34th."

They shook their heads in affirmation and started on their way. Beckett grabbed her own jacket and slid her arms in the sleeves while she turned towards Castle, "let's go Mr. Personality." Like a dog to his owner, the writer packed up and closed the distance, so he could walk beside her.

The elevator welcomed the pair in with a dismal ding.

"Hope you're ready for a freak show," he remarked with a casual grin before watching the doors slide shut.


A massive line had formed itself in front of the bright yellow crime scene tape just outside of the convention center. Most of the mass were outlandishly dressed in costumes resembling anything from Wookies to Sailor Moon. Most of them were agitated, sitting in the cold and trying to find out why they couldn't get into the center.

Through the taped off path, Castle and Beckett walked; they ignored most of the angered and befuddled onlookers' questions, but Castle took the liberty to occasionally point out the stranger outfits among them.

A policeman opened the door for the two after the detective flashed her badge at him. The empty booths were full of color on their own.

Kate's eyes wandered the room recording details as she took mental notes. The words: New York Comicon were strewn across banners that hung from the ceiling, posters that clung to the walls, and pillars that supported the structure. Booths full of sci-fi movie posters, video game ads, and shelves stocked with graphic novels lined the entirety of the convention center floor. Colorful artwork was displayed down one alley and at the back of the spacious room was a small stage that would've accommodated a panel of people.

She looked to the front, however, and saw Lainie on a hydraulic lift. She was examining something hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't a banner, but rather a body hanging upside down by a net. The clothing was bizarre. Black skin-tight patent leather ran the whole way around the body. It was a single suit with an extremely low-cut v-shaped neck line that perfectly encased the victims rounded breasts. White fur capped off the wrists, collar and shins of the outfit. What's more, there was a black bag around her head, tied at the neck with something stuck in the rope.

"Janitor found her this morning," Lainie called from above, stopping to peer down at them. "Someone's getting his statement right now. I can't tell much about what happened right now, but she's got no identification besides this picture tucked in the rope here." She gestured to the Polaroid.

"We can tell more about her once we get her on the ground." There was an assistant on the lift with Lainie who helped her get the body down from the metal rafters. The lift was lowered as Castle and Beckett made their way closer. The body of the woman was slim and curvy.

"She's rigid, and given the temperature, she's probably been dead for about twelve hours, give or take." The victim's black gloved hands were raised above her head from hanging.

"Any idea about the COD," Beckett inquired while Castle gave a closer look to the body.

"I'll have to remove the bag on her head to get a full idea, but right now I see a single gunshot wound to the chest," she pointed her gloved index finger at the small bullet hole. "It went clean through, though." The assistant helped Lainie turn the body so the others could see the exit wound in between her shoulder blades.

"There's a lot of bruising around the wound. Point blank?" Castle asked.

"It's possible," the dark skinned coroner shrugged, "CSU's been scoping the area, but they haven't found the bullet. My guess would be a small caliber by the size of the wound." She pulled the flimsy picture from the grasp of the rope and handed it to Kate, "what do you make of this?"

The picture depicted a pretty, young woman in the same costume as the victim, with white hair and a black mask that covered her dark, smiling eyes. At the bottom of the Polaroid was the name Felicia Hardy.

While the pair skimmed over the picture, Lainie was untying the rope around the victim's neck. The bag itself was blood soaked, but the blood had since dried through the fabric. Carefully, the coroner lifted the bag away from the victim's face.

"Okay, woah," she was taken aback by what she saw and motioned for the others to come see. Beckett's eyes widened as she saw that the whole face of the woman had been removed. It looked as though they had sliced away at her like a loaf of bread, exposing the entire muscular structure of the eyes, mouth and nose. Her long white-blond hair was covered in rouge at the hair line where pieces of her skin still remained. Castle turned away in disgust, looking back at the picture.

"Green eyes," he trailed off. His downcast glance showed displeasure and sadness.

"A crime of hate," Beckett turned towards Castle; she could sense that he was disturbed, "you alright? This job is pretty," she paused to put her hand on his shoulder, "pretty tough."

"I was thinking," Castle started. Beckett wondered if he had heard any of her sympathy, yet she humored him, "wouldn't you need a key to get a body in a large scale center like this during the off hours?"

"So you think we're looking at a worker?"

"Not necessarily, it could be someone who has connections." Shortly after he spoke, Ryan and Esposito walked up.

"Janitor said he found the body this morning while he checked that the ceiling banners were secured," Esposito stated. "He said just him and another maintenance worker was there at the time, but the other worker had left right before the center was supposed to open which wasn't long before he found the body. He also said he didn't recognize him. Maybe a new guy?"

"Did you ask him for a description?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah, but it lacks a lot of detail." Ryan opened his small black notebook to the description. "White male, around five-five, chubby, with circular glasses," he put the book back in his jacket pocket and furthered the description, "he said he had a dust mask on and their standard uniform." He pointed towards the janitor, who was being busied by other policeman, for reference. "He told us that he figured he was just cleaning up."

"So he found the body before anyone was let inside, right?" Castle inquired, looking back at the picture in his hand.

"That's what he says," Esposito confirmed.

"Alright, Good work. We're gonna head outside and ask around the line to see if anyone knows our vic." Beckett gestured towards the picture, "We'll let you know if anything turns up."

The time Kate and Rick had spent inside significantly wore the line down. Most of the freakish onlookers had gotten bored with waiting and had left, but despite the general feeling of the crowd, there were still a few that stayed.

They hit them all up with the question: Do you know this girl? But no one had an answer besides Black Cat. They had asked the entire crowd and nothing. Feeling defeated, Beckett sighed, "maybe anyone that did know her already left. We didn't find a cell phone on our victim, so we wouldn't know if anyone's tried to contact her," she stopped and turned towards Castle who was approaching a young woman, sitting on the side walk against the wall of the center with her legs pulled to her chest.

"You alright?" he asked with genuine care lacing his deep voice. She resembled Alexis in a lot of ways. She had her same red hair, porcelain skin tone, and she looked to be around the same age: maybe a year or two older.

The girl looked up at him with damp eyes, her cheeks flushed, probably from the cold and the crying. "I was waiting for someone," she stated feebly.

At that moment, the detective walked up, her heels clanging against the cement sidewalk quietly.

"Is this who you were waiting for?" She asked with a downward gaze.

The slim girl rose up slowly, putting one hand over her small abdomen. She took the picture from Kate and nodded, "yeah, why what's happened to her? Is something wrong?" She began to sound a bit frantic.

Castle took a quick look at Beckett who, with grief, told the young lady that her friend had been found dead. The girl shook with sobs while Becket calmly held her.

Beckett then asked her to come to the station to answer a few questions for them. The girl obliged and, after contacting the rest of the team about their lead, they headed off.


A/N: This is really a joy to write so far. Hopefully I'm doing this wonderful show justice. Who can resist writing for such charming characters?

Well, let me know what you think. This is my first Castle fic, but don't let that be an excuse to go easy on me. I'm definitely no New York native, so I can't be certain about my locations outside of what I can look up online, but be sure to tell what you think if you like, but until then I'll be writing more. :D

There will be more to come soon so stay on the lookout for updates.