This story is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. I do not claim the characters as mine. Parents are responsible for their childrens internet use, not me.
Serendipity by Mochi-Girl
Crossover: Bones / Castle / Fringe / The Mentalist
Chapter One: Los Angeles International Airport
Travelers come in all shapes, sizes and ages. There are tired parents coaxing their cranky children to hurry along as they drag their colorful little suitcases behind them, college and high school students with headphones dangling from their ears and backpacks slung over their shoulders, senior citizens wearing comfortable shoes and thick sweatshirts sporting store logos or cartoony looking sunflowers, and impatient looking businessmen and women, armed with their efficiently packed carry on baggage who expertly maneuver the concourse like soldiers going into battle. Only at an airport food court will you find this kind of diversity standing in line for fast food, bottled water and fancy coffee.
One man was in a category of his own, but at this late hour it was easy to dismiss him amongst the harried looking crowd. His conservative dark gray suit, felt hat and plain hard-sided briefcase gave him a decidedly vintage appearance, as if he had stepped out of a set from the nineteen sixties. He purposely waited for a table next to the window and when one opened up, he quickly claimed it and sat down. First he removed his hat, his bald head and pale complexion gave him a peculiar appearance, but it was his lack of eyebrows that made him appear almost ghostly. Next he extracted a notebook and a pair of metal binoculars from his case and placed them carefully on the table. He took turns writing cryptic characters in the pages of his notebook and peering through the binoculars into the dark night, studying the terminal on the opposite side of the runway. Finally, he removed his pocket watch and checked the time. Satisfied that all was as scheduled, the Observer made another entry in his notebook... and waited.
Rick Castle handed Temperance Brennan a cup of coffee and plopped down in the chair next to her. The VIP lounge at the airline terminal had calmed down after the international flight to China had departed. The uncharacteristically quiet atmosphere gave the two authors time to relax and talk.
"Don't look so aggravated, you should be thankful it was only a three day tour. A million years ago, before Amazon, my second Derrick Storm book was published and they sent me on a month long junket through the mid-west. Every morning, I woke up in a Holiday Inn and was forced to go to a shopping mall, where a cell awaited me at a B. Dalton or Waldenbooks store. To keep me from escaping, they drugged me with Cinnabons… I must of gained ten pounds." Castle look amused, his large, expensively dressed frame, filled the chair he sat in, and despite the late hour he was cheerful and well groomed.
Brennan smiled. "A three day tour equals five days with travel time. I'm sorry if I seem less than enthused." She sighed before sipping from her coffee. "This career path was never intended, much less planned."
"Don't let anyone else hear you say that!" He whispered with a sly smile. "Some of us have been writing since… well since, you were learning your multiplication tables, and success didn't come easy. You should count your lucky stars."
Brennan smirked back at him. "Since when did you become a follower of astrology?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs. "Besides, luck & stars have nothing to do with inspired writing."
Castle shrugged his shoulders while still maintaining a chesire cat grin. He felt accomplished at having made inroads with the brainy beauty. "So I won't ask about the details, but what kind of deal did you swing?"
"I fear the commitment to write three books over the next five years may interfere with my real work as a Forensic Anthropologist." Brennan tried to look contrite, but the merry expression in her light blue eyes gave her away. "My advance comes twice a year."
"Yeah, life's really a bitch, isn't it!" He teased her.
The authors exchanged knowing looks. They shared the same publishing company and the novel idea to pair the two on a book signing in San Francisco and Los Angeles had been conceived. Castle had turned out to be much better company than Brennan imagined, and in turn, he had enjoyed chipping away at her dour demeanor. On the surface they had very little in common, except for one shared characteristic, their law enforcement partners. As Castle put it, "it takes one to know one" and an unlikely camaraderie had formed between them.
"Does Detective Beckett actively consult on your books? Has she helped you shape the character of Nikki Heat?" Brennan asked curiously. "Nikki is quite frisky, I imagine Detective Beckett is too."
Castle almost choked on his coffee and he looked at her incredulously.
"I take that as a negative." Brennan chuckled.
"Let's just say her contribution is more subtle." He looked out into the room; Brennan looked too, but realized his gaze was focused on something inside his head. "Kate Beckett is by far classier, has more integrity and is more complicated than Nikki Heat. As for the frisky part, I'll use your favorite word, conjecture."
Brennan immediately understood. "I am always denying my partner is the inspiration for Agent Lister, but it doesn't take a genius to deduce how many FBI Agents I actually know. It should be noted though, Andy Lister is quite one-dimensional in comparison to Agent Booth."
"It's not easy is it? Working with someone who sets a totally different standard than what you're used to. The bar isn't raised, it just doesn't exist when you're working with cops, and the good ones are heroic everyday." Castle added earnestly.
She had to agree, what he spoke of was undeniably true.
"It's a hoax, a copy cat… someone is yanking our chain." Patrick Jane looked at the crudely drawn happy face on the wall. A combination of disgust and frustration crossed his face.
"How can you be so sure?" Van Pelt looked at him inquisitively. She surveyed the airport storage facility; cartons on wooden pallets were arranged in neat rows. The only exception was the corner of the building they stood in. Grace tried to hide her revulsion as she scrutinized the drawing done in human blood.
"Jane's right. This isn't Red John. Look at the circle, Red John is right handed, this was drawn by someone who is left handed." Teresa Lisbon took her finger and traced in the air the direction the circle was drawn in. "Besides, this isn't his M.O."
"Hey Boss, look here." Lisbon walked over and stood next to Rigsby, he towered over her as he pointed to a knife that lay on the ground. There was evidence of blood on the blade and hilt and a footprint was clearly visible next to it.
"It looks like a fillet knife, but it's actually a boning knife." Kimball Cho stated, his arms folded in front of him.
The CBI agents all turned to stare at him.
He looked at them with his usual deadpan manner. "I like to cook."
"Okay, bag the evidence, lets get this photographed and have the Port Police sweep the area." Lisbon looked over at the medical examiner and his assistant. "Thanks for waiting." She snapped the blue latex gloves off of her hands and pushed her brunette bangs out of her face. Petite in height and stature she appeared diminutive, until she spoke. Her voice commanded attention and displayed authority.
Van Pelt jotted down a few notes on her pad and took a few more photos before Rigsby bagged the knife. They left the scene with Cho and walked outside.
Lisbon walked over to Jane. "This is still an active murder investigation, but I'm sorry it didn't give us any leads on Red John." She looked at him compassionately. "You okay?" She knew his wounds would never heal until the serial killer who took his family was brought to justice.
Jane did his best to avoid looking at her, his tousled blond hair, rumpled suit of clothes and sad expression made him look and feel vulnerable. He watched the M.E. bend over the body, while his assistant snapped pictures.
"This was premeditated, our killer didn't spontaneously decide to throw suspicion onto Red John." Jane hesitated for just a moment. "This was, however, her first murder."
Lisbon nodded in agreement. "Yeah... I'm giving it back to the locals..." She looked at him, "Her?"
"What kind of self respecting male murderer would wear running shoes with that little heart on the sole and use a kitchen knife? I would assume both belong to a woman."
Lisbon did a double take and saw it too. Her face lit up with a crooked smile. Jane, as usual pointed out the not so obvious.
"That's sexist and you're a show off, come on, let's get back to the hotel. I'm beat." They walked outside the storage building and joined the other agents. In the background the Los Angeles International Airport's control tower lit up the landscape. The themed building next to it looked like something out of the Jetson's.
Jane stood with his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels as the CBI team talked over points of the case. His disappointment at not getting a solid lead on Red John was suddenly interrupted. "Hey! Did you feel and hear that?"
The CBI Agents stopped what they were doing and looked around.
"Oh my God! Look!" Van Pelt pointed toward the airport terminal in the distance. They could clearly see and hear the building as it sank into the ground.
Castle went rigid when the first tremors hit. He felt helpless when he saw the floor start to buckle beneath their feet.
"Jesus Christ! Temperance, we need to get away from the window." He pulled her up and pushed her away from the large picture windows.
Brennan scrambled up on unsteady feet and moved toward the wall at the far end of the room. She looked behind her in time to see part of the ceiling fall and the window shatter into thousands of pieces. Castle was blinded by the cloud of dust and debris.
"Rick!" She turned around and reached out to him. "Take my hand!" He grabbed her hand just as the floor beneath them collapsed.
The CBI team followed the Port's security into the terminal that once housed the VIP lounge. Lisbon made her way into the crowd and approached a police officer who was directing the efforts.
Van Pelt was warning the gathering crowd of people to stay back and Jane helped a young girl find her mother. The first responders had arrived and were setting up work lights and paramedics were treating people at the scene. The chaos amongst the frightened airline passengers and personnel had escalated when the full magnitude of the event unfolded.
Jane looked dazed by the sight in front of him. "I've never seen an earthquake like this! How could it be isolated in this one area." The corner of the building had literally been swallowed up.
"Boss, there's still seven people unaccounted for and the PD said they're bringing Homeland Security in." Van Pelt's disturbed expression trumped her pretty and youthful looks, but she remained calm and poised.
Lisbon furrowed her brow. "Do they think this is an act of terrorism? Is it possible… maybe it's a sinkhole?" She shook off the questions in her head. "We can make ourselves useful. You, Cho and Rigsby, start taking statements from witnesses."
"Yes Boss." Van Pelt sought out her team members and found them lifting a man out of the way. They set him down where the medical team had set up a triage area.
The man coughed and sputtered as he spoke. "There's a man and woman down there!" he gasped. "I saw them… the floor just opened up and they went down!"
Rigsby took his statement and inwardly shuddered at the thought of being under all that debris.
Jane was the first one to see it amongst the pandemonium. "Lisbon!" he called to her. "What in God's name is that?"
Her eyes saw his confused, almost frightened expression. She followed his line of sight and it settled on the far end of the caved in ground where the lounge once stood. "What the hell is that?" Lisbon whispered.
The hair on the back of Jane's neck prickled and he was acutely aware that someone was watching him. He scanned the crowd, and his eyes settled on the Observer and his expressionless face, staring back at him.