Author's Note: Because apparently, I needed to add another ongoing fic to my list! Consider this one something that started as a roll-your-eyes-and-laugh post on Tumblr that eventually turned into a one-shot fic and is now... well, who knows how many chapters this thing will be? For reference purposes, this is round about Castle season 6. Please leave reviews!

Somewhere north of Washington…

"Corporal Herman Bass," Timothy McGee announced, reading off the digital fingerprint indicator cradled in his right hand. "Originally from Fairfax, was back in the area on two-week leave after a six-month tour at sea."

NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs stood at the feet of their latest victim, a young Navy corporal who was built like he had been a linebacker on the football team. But his barrel chest and broad shoulders had been of no use against the slug embedded in his brain, brown eyes lifeless and staring at the cloudless sky.

From over Gibbs' left shoulder, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was taking pictures of the crime scene, which was tucked into a span of woods off the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. Corporal Bass' body was roughly ten feet from the highway, only noticed by a stranded motorist during a traffic jam several hours prior.

Metro PD had originally investigated the case, but as soon as detectives noticed his dark blue uniform and insignia, they immediately contacted NCIS.

Emerging from behind a large black van marked NCIS CORONER in large white block letters, Dr. Donald Mallard and his assistant, Dr. Jimmy Palmer, wheeled a gurney toward the site of the body, which was already roped off. Pausing only to adjust the straw hat atop his head, Dr. Mallard gave Gibbs a once-over before lowering into a crouch to study the body.

"Well, cause of death seems rather obvious," he muttered in a soft British accent.

"Seems, Duck," Gibbs interjected, the sun reflecting off his white hair. "Doesn't mean it is."

"No, of course not," Dr. Mallard, who the NCIS team affectionately knew as Ducky, mused. "Why, this reminds me of a time when I was but a teenage boy back home in Scotland. I had come home to find Mother out of the house and a stew brewing on the stove. I thought she had forgotten an ingredient and had made a quick run to the store, when in all actuality -"

"Boss," DiNozzo interrupted from a cluster of trees, where he and a female agent named Ziva David were hunched over something. Their bodies blocked his view, but Gibbs strode away from Ducky mid-story, sipping on a plastic cup as he joined the pair.

"What is it?"

"His wallet," Ziva announced, holding up a black billfold. Her dark hair was done up in a bun that stuck out of the back of her black NCIS ballcap. "Apparently, he was all about the Washingtons."

DiNozzo smirked. "It's all about the Benjamins, Ziva."

Ziva's eyebrows arched. "Not on a corporal's salary."

Taking the wallet from Ziva, and trying to ignore the banter between her and DiNozzo, Gibbs opened it and flipped through the contents. Everything appeared to be in order - both cash and credit cards were still there, as was military ID, driver's license, and Social Security card. All three verified the deceased man's identity.

Gibbs found a folded-up slip of paper tucked behind the bills, pulling it out and unfolding it. He squinted and took another swig of coffee. In hasty, messy handwriting, the note held a phone number and what appeared to be initials.

MLH.

"McGee," he called out, handing the junior agent the slip. "Run that phone number. I wanna know who Corporal Bass might have been calling before he died."

New York City…

"You still haven't answered my question." Kate Beckett's face wore a scowl, but the tone in her voice belied the serious demeanor she was trying to show off. Such tactics were her strength in the box at the precinct, but in her fiancé's high-rise loft, she was not nearly as masterful an interrogator.

It didn't help when Richard Castle flashed the baby blues at her.

"I told you, Beckett," he paused to sip at his mug of coffee, "that lunch with Gina was strictly business."

"Not that." Kate rolled her eyes even as she was suppressing a smirk. "My other question."

"Oh." Castle's shoulders slumped and his face fell. He knew exactly what question Kate meant, and it was a topic he had been desperate to put off. As much as he loved being engaged to the woman who inspired him to write again after killing off Derrick Storm, he occasionally found the actual process of planning their wedding intimidating.

Especially when Kate asked questions he didn't want to answer.

"Well? Are we inviting Meredith or not?"

Castle visibly cringed at the mention of his first ex-wife's name. Not because he hated her, but because he remembered how badly he had messed up the last time she paid a visit, how he had both Meredith and new girlfriend Kate staying in his loft at the same time. Awkward had been a massive understatement, and for that reason alone, he was tempted to leave her out of the festivities.

But Meredith was still Alexis' mother, which meant she was still family (in a sense). And strange as it was, Meredith and Kate had bonded during their joint stay the previous year. That thought made Castle feel all sorts of uncomfortable, but Kate was still his, so it couldn't have been that bad… could it?

"Do… you want her there?" Castle asked into his mug, arching a brow.

Pursing her lips, Kate matched his eyebrow. "Do you?"

Crap. Castle hated it whenever his fiancée answered a question with a question. Well, he liked it when she did it in the box, when he was sitting on the same side of the table as her and they were trying to get someone to break. But when she did it to him?

No fair.

"I say we let Alexis decide," he offered.

"Alexis?" Kate shook her head.

"That's even assuming she'd show up," Castle offered hastily, hoping the change in subject would stick. "Knowing her, we'd send the invite, she'd RSVP and then… never show."

"You really think she'd flake like that?"

After over a decade of occasionally having to console a disappointed daughter whenever Meredith fell through on a plan or a promise she had made… yes, Castle had considered the possibility. But he didn't voice that thought, instead taking another sip of his coffee and glancing at Kate with serious eyes that belied just how much he wasn't kidding.

"Okay," Kate said with a nod, her hand cradling Castle's. "We'll leave Meredith as a maybe for now. I think our invite list needs to be trimmed a bit anyway."

Quantico…

"Boss!"

No sooner had Agent Gibbs left Director Vance's office after giving him an update on the case, Agent DiNozzo's voice was already calling out for him. Gibbs stopped and tried not to roll his eyes, another cup of coffee in his right hand and a large plastic cup with Caff-Pow! on the side in his left.

"McGee tracked down that number," DiNozzo explained as the foot of the metal stairwell that led to their cluster of desks. It was a relatively open space in the center of a spacious bullpen, one that featured orange walls and cubicles scattered throughout. The orange was disconcerting to most, but Gibbs had grown used to it over the years.

Gibbs took the piece of paper from DiNozzo's hand, reading it over while the younger agent continued talking: "Corporal Bass had been in contact with a woman named Meredith Lee Harper. Forty-two years old, once married, once divorced, has a daughter."

The two men began walking through the narrow corridor that led to the various interrogation rooms. Gibbs was still reading, DiNozzo was still talking.

"She moved from Los Angeles to New York last month, apparently to pursue a career on Broadway."

Gibbs stopped in front of the main interrogation room. "Actress?"

"Allegedly." DiNozzo gave an exaggerated cringe. "Her IMDB page reads like a cast list from Sharknado 4. I think her relocation has more to do with her personal life than anything professional."

Gibbs frowned. "New York?"

"That's where her daughter and her ex-husband live."

"What would she be doing down here?" Gibbs asked before taking another drink.

"You can ask her yourself." DiNozzo nodded toward the door behind Gibbs. "Ziva and I just brought her in. Picked her up at Reagan International."

Interrogation…

"Miss Harper," Ziva David leaned forward in her seat across from the redhead, her elbows resting on the surface of the table, "what was your relationship with Corporal Bass?"

Meredith blinked and cocked her head to the side. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Corporal Herman Bass," Ziva explained, slightly exasperated. "He was found dead near D.C. this morning with a bullet in his forehead. We found your telephone number in his wallet."

When Meredith shook her head again, mouth open but no words forming, Ziva flipped open the file folder in front of her and produced an autopsy photo: that of Corporal Bass on Ducky's slab, staring straight up with a hole in the center of his forehead and a trail of dried blood running down the right side of his nose.

Meredith gasped at the sight, cupping a thin hand over her mouth and turning away. She huffed a breath, part disgust and part emotion, before the sound of the agent clearing her throat brought her back into the moment. Meredith's stomach churned as she glanced at the photograph again, but she leaned forward and forced herself to get a better look…

…only to gasp again once recognition hit her.

"This guy isn't Navy," she protested. "And… his name's not Herman Bass."

"I… do not understand." Ziva frowned. "We have his DNA. He is in the Navy's database."

"He told me his name was Jason," Meredith explained with a sigh. "Jason Nabbitt."

"And what was your relationship with him?"

"He was…" Meredith hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "He was my supplier."

The sound of the door opening caught Ziva's attention as she opened her mouth to ask Meredith what she meant by that… but the sound of two plastic cups hitting the floor and liquid spilling onto the carpet stopped the agent short. Ziva looked up to see Agent Gibbs standing in the doorway, white as a sheet and his eyes as wide as she had ever seen.

"Agent Gibbs?" Ziva asked, her hand reaching for the weapon on her hip out of instinct.

Ziva's eyes flicked back to the woman sitting across from her. Meredith was already naturally pale, and she had gone even whiter when she saw Corporal Bass' autopsy photo. Now, her skin tone matched Gibbs', and her eyes were just as wide. Impossibly blue, even under the harsh light of interrogation.

Both Meredith and Gibbs were stunned into silence. Ziva rose from her chair and slowly made her way to her fellow agent, cocking her head to the side before turning to study Meredith again.

"Gibbs." Her voice was more forceful this time. "What is going on?"

The next person to speak was Meredith.

"Leroy…"

This time, Ziva was the one with the wide eyes, the open mouth, and the speechless disposition. She glanced at Gibbs again, seeing something in his eyes she had never seen before: abject confusion. She gently reached out and grabbed Gibbs' shoulder, ducking her head before leveling another gaze at the redhead.

Meredith had tears in her eyes.

Ziva's frown deepened. "You two know each other."

"Of course we do," Meredith said in a shaky voice, rising from her seat and closing the distance between herself and Agent Gibbs. She reached up to cradle Gibbs' face in her hand, but he flinched and she dropped her arm. Her eyes fell before focusing on Ziva again.

"This man is my husband."