A/N: This is my submission for the Castle Halloween Bash 2015. A big thanks goes out to whatifellinlovewith, who both beta'd the story and graciously supplied the cover art; she's awesome! Alright, enough babbling, onto the story! I sincerely hope everyone enjoys it.

How in the hell did it come to this?

Beckett thought bitterly to herself as she gripped the edges of the sink with such a vice-like grip, it was a wonder it didn't bend or shift under the weight. Her own angered expression stared back at her, head subtly rising as she took deep breaths meant to be calming, though the effect hadn't exactly taken hold yet. As a result, all she could do was answer her own question, thinking back on the chain of events that had led to this moment.

It all traced back to a few hours ago, to the moment when Beckett had stepped out of her car in the lot by the side entrance into the elementary school, a large tupperware box containing the jack-o-lantern shaped cookies cooked by Castle tucked underneath her right arm. It was her third time setting foot inside that school in two weeks, the first two being for the investigation of the murdered ice cream truck driver the previous week, an investigation that required Castle going "undercover" in the classroom of Ms. Ruiz, a second grade teacher. Naturally, Castle being Castle, he'd developed a liking for the kids and they him, which was why he'd decided to bake them cookies to enjoy with Halloween just around the corner. But why Beckett had to be the one to deliver them instead of himself, she had no idea. His official reason was that he had a late night talk show appearance as part of the Raging Heat press, but secretly, Beckett suspected it was because Castle wanted her to get more experience with children under her belt. She wasn't exactly sure how hand delivering a box of cookies after regular school hours, when every student would most likely be at home eating dinner, would accomplish that, but Beckett was happy to help anyway.

The answer to her question came the instant she pulled open the set of double doors that led into the large room affectionately referred to as the "cafegymatorium" by students, but simply "the multi-purpose room" by staff members.

The large space began as a gym with a basketball court floor and the large painted-white brick walls that seemed commonplace in every school. Plastered on those very walls and hanging from the high ceiling were various Halloween decorations such as laminated pictures of carved pumpkins with intimidating faces, spiders and green-skinned witches riding broomsticks. The lighting was regular for now, but Beckett could spot orange and purple-colored filters that would no doubt provide the appropriate ambience once this party - which the tables supporting snacks and a large punch bowl confirmed it was - got in full swing. Various adults were milling about putting final touches on a few details while groups of kids, all dressed in costumes, stood on the sidelines and chatted excitedly with each other.

Okay, in and out, Beckett told herself as she tightened her grip on the cookie box and began heading towards an open set of double doors on the northeast side of the gym area. They led out into a hallway.

Before she made it five steps, however, a young boy dressed in a Spider-Man costume who looked no older than seven or eight darted out in front of her. He wore a broad smile on his face and had a clipboard clutched in one hand and a pen in the other.

"Hi! I'm Matt! Are those cookies for the party? Are you somebody's Mom? Are you here for the party?" Matt spoke in that rapid-fire way that only young kids seemed able to master, and it was a wonder Beckett was able to decipher it all.

"Uh ... no, these cookies are for Ms. Ruiz's class," she replied slowly while smiling warmly. "I'm not somebody's Mom, and I'm not here for the party, even though it looks fun. I'm just here to drop these off."

Beckett gracefully stepped aside from Matt and continued walking, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw the boy quickly falling into step with her.

"Would you like to help chaperone the party?" Matt asked eagerly. "Mrs. Woodside, she's my teacher, she told me to go around to all the adults and make sure all the chaperones are here! She also told me to ask anybody who isn't on the list if they'd like to help out! She said we could use more chaperones! What's your name, Miss?"

"My name's Kate Beckett." Why did this vaguely feel like an interrogation?

"Well, you're very pretty, Miss Beckett!" enthused Matt. "Do you have anything else to do tonight?

"No, I don't." The double doors were drawing nearer, and once she could get through them, Beckett would be that much closer to a relaxing night of wine, a nice meal and her ruggedly handsome fiance.

"Then why don't you volunteer?" Matt posed to her, making them both stop in their tracks. "Please volunteer? Please, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?"

Beckett had to give this kid credit for being so insistent, and she regarded him with another kind smile as she adjusted the tupperware box so she could adequately crouch down in front of him. "Look, Matt, I appreciate you asking and everything, but I really can't stay. I have ... grown-up stuff to do tonight, and besides, I don't really know anybody here, so it would just be weird for me. Okay?"

Matt spent a few seconds staring into her eyes quizzically, as if trying to determine how genuine her words were. It looked like the kind of expression the detectives in her precinct would give suspects who were giving spotty alibis in the interrogation room. Finally, biting his lower lip, he nodded.

"Okay, Miss Beckett. Sorry I bothered you."

"Aw, you didn't bother me, bud." Beckett gave him a wink and a gentle pat on the shoulder before straightening up and finally exiting the gym.

Matt was left staring after her, clipboard held against his chest like a shield. He was about to turn around and rejoin his friends when a young girl dressed in a bright pink princess outfit came up to his left side, glancing off in the direction Beckett had departed.

"Hey, Matt, who was that you were talking to?" the girl asked.

"A lady named Kate Beckett," Matt answered. At the mention of the grown-up's name, the girl whipped her head back towards him, blonde hair tossing about and her eyes alight with interest. "I tried to get her to chaperone. She said no."

"Really?" said the girl in a measured tone. A smile slowly spread across her face. "Well, I happen to know her. And I know she'd be a lot of fun to have as a chaperone! Maybe ... we can help her change her mind?"

"How?"

The girl looked around discreetly, making sure none of the adults were watching them. "Can I see your pen?"

Thinking back on her brief run-in with Matt, Beckett concluded that she could've probably handled the situation better. Had she come off as too cold in any way? You could never tell when it came to a kid's perception. Not to mention that, in retrospect, her excuse of having "Grown-up stuff to do" sounded lame, even to her. Really, though, she had no place chaperoning an elementary school Halloween party, so she couldn't truly entertain any possible sense of guilt on the matter.

"This really is quite thoughtful of you and Mr. Castle." Ms. Ruiz's voice brought Beckett back from her train of thought. "But ... maybe don't tell him I said that. I think I got a good-enough read on his ego during that brief time he was here." The second grade teacher placed the tupperware container on her desk.

"Yeah, well, that side of him mellows the more you get to know him," Beckett replied with a smile. "Anyway, we both thought the class would enjoy these. You can also consider it a thank you from Castle - and me, especially - for putting up with him."

"Sugar cookies covered in orange frosting ... yeah, I know I'll be grateful for that during the second half of the day tomorrow." Both women shared a bemused smirk. "The kids will love them, though, so there's that. Thanks for bringing them by, Detective Beckett." Ms. Ruiz glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, I need to get going." She gathered up her coat, bag and briefcase before snatching up a set of keys.

Beckett accompanied her to the door. "Are you helping out with the party?" she asked.

"No, I'm afraid I have other family obligations tonight." Ms. Ruiz turned off the classroom lights and closed the door behind her and Beckett, inserting the key into the lock. "But believe me, I still got repeated requests to chaperone."

"Yeah, I actually got one, too, on my way in," said Beckett with a slight grin. The two of them began the walk back to the multi-purpose room.

"Goes to show how understaffed they are, tonight. But personally, supervising a gym full of hyperactive kids in my downtime never sounded appealing. Was it one of my kids who asked you?"

"No, some boy named Matt dressed as Spider-Man."

"Ah. Matt's in another second grade class. But, you know, my class keeps talking about you and Mr. Castle from time to time."

Beckett looked over curiously. "Really?"

"Yes. Actually, it's usually Emily who talks about you the most. You remember her, right?"

Beckett did indeed recall the young blonde girl who had taken a liking to Castle, and who had seemed strangely curious about Beckett herself during the brief moment the two of them had met. "I do. What does she say?"

"Mainly just wonders if you and Mr. Castle have tied the knot yet." Ms. Ruiz gave Beckett a sly wink, which Beckett smiled politely at, but inwardly tried to brush off the comment. The issue of their wedding was still a tricky subject. "Well, I guess this is where we part ways." They had reached the double doors of the multi-purpose room. "I'm going to take a different exit, so nobody will spot me and check again if I'm available, but thanks again for the cookies, Detective Beckett."

"It really was no trouble."

With one last smile exchanged between the two, Ms. Ruiz departed down a side hallway while Beckett set foot once again in the gym. She'd only made it about halfway to the doors leading outside when she heard a voice to her right call out her name.

She turned to see Principal Silva, wearing an orange dress shirt, black pants and purple tie to most likely be "more festive", approaching her with a bright smile stretching out the mustache on his upper lip. Beckett had no idea whether or not the principal simply wanted to thank her again for subduing the suspect in her last case, so she stayed rooted to the spot.

"Um, hello, Principal Silva." She extended her hand, which the principal graciously shook. "How can I help you?"

"Oh, you already are, Detective Beckett!" Principal Silva proclaimed with what sounded like relief in his voice. "And I just wanted to express my gratitude. It really is a generous gesture on your part."

Her mind landed on the cookies, which struck her as odd for the principal to thank her for. "Well ... I can't take all the credit. It was mainly Mr. Castle's idea, and I just thought it sounded good."

"Ah, Mr. Castle," Principal Silva nodded. "Yes, this does seem like something he would help arrange, even if he couldn't be here himself. Still, be sure to pass along my gratitude."

"Of course I will." Beckett made to resume her walk back to the exit, but Principal Silva's continuing of the conversation halted her yet again.

"Actually, it works out quite well."

Inwardly, Beckett was aching to get back in her car and drive to the loft to enjoy an evening of unwinding after a long day, but she kept up her polite air while trying to keep any impatience from creeping onto her face.

"We happen to be a bit understaffed here tonight, so you offering to serve as a chaperone really helps us out. And, not to sound vain in any way, but it also has the potential for good publicity for our school, what with you being engaged to such a public figure and all."

It wasn't often that Kate Beckett found herself at a loss for words, but now was one of those rare occasions. What did Principal Silva mean when he said she'd offered to serve as a chaperone? She'd most expressly told little Matt -

Matt.

Beckett's eyes instantly darted around the multi-purpose room, intently searching for that red and blue costume. However, he was nowhere to be seen.

"And, of course, there's the potential of you setting a good example for the children as well, since you're also a Detective." Principal Silva's words jolted Beckett back to the present. "On that note, I was thinking and also hoping that you'd be kind enough to get a little hands-on with some of the entertainment we have lined up for later tonight."

The man looked so relieved at the prospect of Beckett's assistance for the night, that she hated to burst his bubble just as quickly as it had formed. "Um," she gave a nervous laugh, "look, Principal Silva, I'm really very flattered at your enthusiasm at my helping out, but - "

"Miss Beckett! Miss Beckett!"

Accompanying the excited high-pitched voice from somewhere level with Beckett's legs was a pink blur that appeared at Principal Silva's side. The blur constituted a princess costume that had specks of glitter dotted across it, and in the costume was a familiar face. It was a face she remembered as being scrutinizing the first time, but now was bright and happy.

"I'm not the only one who's enthused," said Principal Silva, placing a friendly hand on the girl's shoulder. "Emily here has been asking me left and right about you for the past few minutes."

Emily, of course, was the same girl she'd just been chatting with Ms. Ruiz about and her detective's instinct about coincidences was starting to kick in.

"I heard that you're gonna be a chaperone tonight, Miss Beckett!" Emily chattered away. "That makes me so happy! I've asked Ms. Ruiz about you a lot ever since you were in my class. Have you married Mr. Castle yet?"

Principal Silva chuckled and gave Beckett a wink. "Now, Emily, let's not bombard Detective Beckett with questions."

Emily nodded while eyeing Beckett up and down. "Where's your costume?"

"I ... don't have one." Those were the only words Beckett managed to both form and get out.

"That's alright," Principal Silva assured Emily. "Chaperones aren't required to wear costumes. Oh, by the way, " he reached into his pocket and produced one of those "Hello, My Name Is ..." sticky nametags. This one already had her name scribbled on it. "You'll be needing this."

As Principal Silva held out the nametag, Beckett's mind was racing through the various possibilities of how she could wriggle her way out of the situation. The immediate option of claiming she had other obligations obviously couldn't work, because why would she then allegedly sign her name up for the party? She could always claim she was coming down with something, but it seemed as flimsy and suspicious to her as it would no doubt sound to the principal. Not to mention the expectation from both Silva and Emily of Beckett being there, and her presence even being beneficial. How, then, would it look for Beckett to suddenly weasel her way out of this when the last minute had been spent basically praising her for her character and sense of charity? The bottom line was that there was no clean way for her to escape this duty, no matter how hard she wanted to try to.

With grudging compliance, Beckett took the offered nametag. "Thank you," she said through a fake smile. She peeled the tag off its holder and stuck it onto her left shoulder.

So much for a nice, quiet night.

Of course, her luck being what it was that night, Beckett was only able to get Castle's voicemail when she tried calling him. So all she was able to do was begrudgingly leave a message that, by the time he heard it, wouldn't make any difference for her trying to get an out.

Currently, Beckett was busy supervising the Arts & Crafts station, where kids could come and make decorations for the party. She figured it was something that'd be simple enough to watch over, as she was used to keeping people in line on a daily basis. The kids who were now seated around the table with her all happened to be students from Ms. Ruiz's class, including Emily and Jason, whom Castle had declared his "arch-nemesis", and who would occasionally cast Beckett furtive mischievous looks every now and then as he worked on drawing and coloring in a jack-o-lantern. Beckett also noticed that he and Emily seemed to be getting along a lot better now compared to what she'd heard about last week, and she made a mental note to tell Castle about that later.

"Miss Beckett?"

Emily's voice brought Beckett back to the present, where she'd been absentmindedly coloring in her own jack-o-lantern. "Yes, what is it, Emily?" She could see Emily's pumpkin face was more angelic than the rest, colored pink and sporting a few collections of glitter.

"I ran out of glitter. May I go and get some more?" The little girl gestured towards the supply table behind Beckett, which held anything and everything one would need for decoration creation.

Beckett smiled at the politeness shown by the second grader and nodded. "Of course. Do you need help carrying it back?"

"No, thank you, I got it."

Emily scooted out her chair and walked over to the supply table, looking completely in her element. Beckett had to admire the self-sufficiency a girl her age was able to show, bringing to mind thoughts of a mini-her, and the comparison made her grin. She surveyed the table one more time.

Jason, on her immediate right, had on a Batman costume, the cowl folded back behind his shoulders at the moment. Directly opposite her on the other side of the table were two other boys dressed as Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Leonardo and Raphael, respectively. Their masks, too, were folded up, but resting on top of their heads. Beckett hadn't taken the time to ask their names, so she just referred to them as their personas. The same was true for the two girls on her left, one dressed like Elsa and the other as Anna from Frozen. Only at a Halloween party were you likely to see all those characters in one place. Beckett chuckled softly and went back to her drawing.

All in all, she'd been grateful for the lack of any "incidents" for her to deal with, but that relief was soon crushed with the sound of one word.

"Ooops!"

The next thing Beckett knew, the feeling of numerous little somethings falling on her from above overtook her, an effective surprise in and of itself. What was cascading down on top of her buttoned-up denim jacket and collecting in both her hair and on top of her jeans was the rest of the glitter reserved for the station.

Out of reflex, Beckett gasped and leaped to her feet, which made her legs bump roughly into the table, given her close proximity to it. As a result, the collection of cups holding markers, paint and paintbrushes threatened to overturn from the movement, but managed to stay upright. The snacks scattered across the table, from Zebra Cakes to Ding Dongs and Moon Pies, shifted a few inches.

"I'm sorry!" declared Emily as Becket started to dust the glitter off herself. "I tripped on my dress! It was an accident! Here, I can help." Emily set the now-empty bowl down on the ground and hurried over to Beckett, but she ended up bumping into her, which in turn caused another table rocking.

"Wait, wait!" said Beckett once she was able to steady herself. She let out a sigh. "Emily, why don't you just go back to your seat, alright? You're not in trouble or anything, but I can take care of this myself."

Emily regarded her with a worried look for a few moments before following the orders she'd been given. The rest of the kids at the table were looking at Beckett with expressions caught between surprise and restrained laughter. She couldn't blame them, though; she must've looked pretty ridiculous. That thought, though, made her turn slowly to the rest of the crowd. Fortunately, only a few of the kids and adults noticed what had happened, and all Beckett could do was give them a sheepish smile as if to say, "Kids. What are you gonna do?"

Beckett got as much of the glitter off herself as she could, shaking out her hair for good measure, and it all piled up at her feet. Her all-denim outfit was clean of the majority of the shiny, tiny decoration, but there was still quite a bit of it that was left behind. Needless to say, it made her clothes appear like they belonged in the fashion line of a teen idol.

"Are you alright, Miss Beckett?" asked Elsa.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I can get all this up for you," said a male voice that turned out to belong to a balding janitor with a nametag that read "Carl."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Beckett remained standing as Carl swept up the excess of glitter off the floor and into a dust-gatherer, which he promptly emptied into a nearby trashcan. Once Carl was done, she thanked him again and went to sit back down in her chair, which was considerably smaller than she was used to, but one she could still occupy, albeit with her legs more level with her chest. Couldn't they have gotten better chairs for the adults, at least?

A few more minutes passed before Leonardo called out her name, adding on a question. "This glue won't come out. Can you help me, please?"

"Sure, bud."

Beckett got up and walked behind Jason and Emily to get to him. As she passed them, though, they made strange sounds that seemed to be restrained coughs. Glancing over her shoulder, Beckett saw them making the noises into their fists and keeping their gazes pointed straight down. She shrugged it off, however, as she stood behind Leonardo, who was holding up the squeezable container of Elmer's glue he was having trouble with.

"Can you get it to come out?"

"Yeah, no problem."

Beckett took the container and peered at the tip where the white substance usually oozed out. From what she could tell, the opening was shut, so it was just a matter of her simply twisting the tip to the right, which created the necessary opening. "There," she said, handing back the container, "that should do it. Try squeezing it out now."

It was a poor choice of words on her part, because Leonardo grabbed the container in both hands and brought it back down against the table with enough force that, when he did squeeze, the tip was still pointing up, and it caused a mini-geyser of glue to spurt out like lava from a volcano and splatter right into Beckett's face. She had no time to react.

This time, the kids didn't even try to keep their giggling in check. It was like the reactionary laugh track on a sitcom after something particularly goofy happened, right down to Beckett wiping away some of the glue from her eyes, still in a slight daze. She was about to say something when a shout from behind kept her silent.

"LOOK! SHE HAS A GREEN BUTT!"

Beckett whipped her head around to see a boy dressed as Superman pointing at her as he now laughed. A couple of other kids around him joined in while some adults gazed on in either surprise or confusion.

Face still dripping with glue, she slowly turned her gaze to her butt, which, to her horror, was indeed slathered with a layer of what was clearly green paint. She looked over to her chair, the seat of which indeed had green paint covering it, and an overturned cup at the edge of the table on her side was the reason why. How the hell didn't I notice it before? Now, of course, she could feel the thick, seeping sensation down there, but it didn't matter now.

Instinct kicked in and Beckett made a beeline towards the hallway and the bathroom that was out there. Along the way, she received more chuckles, stares and pointing fingers. Hopefully when she returned, things would go better.

As it turned out, things did not get much better after Beckett returned from the bathroom. She'd managed to clean all of the glue off of her face, with a few strands of hair still damp from the wash. However, the green paint obviously left behind a sizeable stain on the seat of her pants, making for a very unfortunate sight, and it wasn't as if she had a spare set readily available. Beckett tried her best to keep the stain hidden with her hands, but that wasn't doing much good.

Only a few seconds after she'd stepped back inside the multi-purpose room, a teacher who she'd earlier identified as Ms. Woodside announced, "Alright, everybody! Time to get your jiggy on!" through a microphone on the stage area, with "Monster Mash" immediately blasting through speakers spaced around the area. Beckett was content to just stand on the sidelines, but a tapping on her leg made her spot Jason, who was by her side.

"Would you like to dance with me, Miss Beckett?" he asked in the sweetest voice possible.

"Uh ..." She was about to decline as politely as she could, but her talent for reading faces told her that if she did, it would run the risk of creating a scene, and that was the last thing she wanted right now. "Alright, Jason. I suppose I could do one dance."

Jason beamed, grabbed her hand and excitedly guided Beckett out onto the dance floor. The two of them spent a few minutes moving along to the beat, Beckett remaining fairly self-conscious the whole time and possibly looking even funnier in doing so than she would've if she just let loose. Near the end of the song, though, Jason's more invigorated dancing caused him to get in closer proximity to Beckett, and he was so focused on dancing, that she had to assume him stomping on her feet suddenly was a complete accident.

"Ow!" She stopped what awkward movements she was making and raised her right foot slightly, which smarted a little more than the other, so she could shake it off.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Jason said with wide eyes. "I just got caught up in the song."

By then, the song had ended and there was that momentary pause between tracks. "It's alright," Beckett managed lightly, "maybe just watch where you step, okay, Jason?" A slower song had started up and Beckett turned to find a chair, but found her path blocked by another boy, Raphael.

"May I dance with you, too? Just one?"

What was it about kids that made them able to phrase questions in such a way that refusing them would feel the same as doing them a personal offense? Beckett sighed and nodded. "Okay, bud." Due to the slower tune, it required the two of them to take up the classical waltz stance, or as close to it as they could manage, given the height difference. All the while, Beckett kept her eyes on the space between their feet. That is, until she heard her name called out from the left.

"You dance good, Miss Beckett!"

It was Emily who said it, and coincidentally, she and Jason were currently dancing together.

"Thank you," Beckett replied with a smile. "You're not too bad yourself."

The sudden jabs of pain on both sets of her toes made her suck air through her teeth and bite back a curse that every adult in the vicinity would've scolded her for.

"Sorry!" Raphael pleaded in a squeaky voice. "I've never danced like this before! It's hard!"

Beckett took a few deep breaths and reined in any sense of agitation that was threatening to overtake her. "It's ... okay. But I think I'm going to sit out the rest of the songs." It turned out to be well-timed, because as she slightly limped over to a nearby chair, the songs changed yet again and it was another fast one. After pulling over a nearby regularly sized chair and positioning it to the side of the snack table, she plopped herself down and instantly brought her right foot up and out of her shoe to rub in relieved pleasure. She spent two songs doing that for each of her feet and by the end of the second, she was feeling better.

By then, Beckett realized with a growling stomach just how long it had been since she'd last eaten. The table of fingerfoods beside her wasn't exactly the meal she'd originally been counting on tonight, but she would take what she could get. First, she quickly checked her phone: no missed calls or messages from Castle, which made her frown. So, she gathered up a plate of food and sat there munching on cookies, cupcakes and other sugary sweets. Once those were finished, Beckett got up to fill a cup with the red punch from one of the two massive bowls when the next unfortunate incident of the night befell her.

She was just standing there, filling her cup with punch, when an unexpected force collided with the right side of her ass, making her jerk from the surprise of it. Before she could even set down her cup, the same thing happened with the left side of her butt and this time, it elicited a short yelp from her.

Beckett whirled around, but saw nothing but partygoers going about their business, oblivious to whatever had just happened to her. Back still turned to the table, Beckett discreetly looked behind her to see what exactly had took her by surprise. Stuck to each side of her bottom were two of those toy plunger darts that could be shot out of toy guns and stick to any surface they were aimed at. She sighed deeply, unstuck the plungers from her body and tossed them underneath the table. There was a pint-sized sniper loose in the crowd somewhere, and she was determined to find them.

Through the music, she heard a distinct burst of giggling from the opposite side of the table behind her. She whirled around and spotted a flash of movement as somebody ducked out of sight.

"Hey!"

Beckett instantly walked around the table to get to the other side, but when she did, she found just empty space between the wall and the table, which had a purple tablecloth draped over it that hung over the sides. The cloth fluttered, and Beckett was no fool, so she determinedly made her way towards that piece of the cloth, directly beneath one of the punch bowls. But, as was par for the course so far this night, things didn't work out so well.

Right as she reached that section, the floor became slick and slippery, causing Beckett to lose her footing and comically tumble backwards onto the floor with a crash. As she did, she reached out in an attempt to hold onto something, and happened to grab a handful of the tablecloth. Combined with her momentum, it caused the punch bowl on the table to be tugged off the surface and overturn so that all of the red liquid was drained directly on top of Beckett as she lay there, like a particularly tasty red rainstorm. The bowl clattered and rolled around her head and as Beckett was trying to recuperate from the shock, a few gooey brownies landed on her chest, too.

For the second time that evening, Beckett found herself too overcome with shock and shame to do much of anything as a crowd gathered above her. Eventually, she was able to haul herself to her feet, brownies dripping off her person as the sticky punch soaked through her now heavily-stained denim outfit.

Principal Silva came up to her with an expression caught like the ones she'd got after the paint on her butt had been revealed. "There's a staff shower in the bathroom," he said, almost in a daze. "You can use that to wash off and I'll have somebody bring you a change of clothes."

"Thank you," was all Beckett could get out.

The crowd parted to let her through and she walked like a zombie to the bathroom, not paying much attention to everybody looking at and commenting on her current appearance, nor could she bring herself to care.

How in the hell did it come to this?

There were a number of situations that Beckett either never thought or never hoped she would find herself in one day, but being dressed in a very form-fitting bright pink ballerina costume hadn't been on that list simply because it was one that honestly never occurred to her. Maybe it should have, in retrospect, just to cover all bases.

Her original clothes were hanging up to dry on hangers supplied for her by staff members, situated carefully on the tops of the stalls. Before she'd washed off in the shower, all she could do was use handsoap and sink water to clean her clothes as best she could. Of course, they'd require a more extensive scrubbing at the dry cleaners', but it had helped calm her nerves somewhat.

It hadn't worked that well, though, because she was still attempting to calm herself by taking deep breaths while staring at her angered reflection in the mirror. The ballerina costume only made it look ridiculous. Someone had clearly been the cause of everything from the plunger darts to the punch bowl mishap, and no matter how she was dressed, Beckett was determined to get to the bottom of it, just she always did.

She straightened herself up, let out one long breath and marched out of the bathroom, looking like the most badass ballerina ever.

The ballerina costume had been left with a note on top that Kate had read after stepping out of the shower: "We found this in our Theatre prop room. It looks like it will fit you. We'll keep looking for something else." In all fairness, it did fit Beckett, but only barely.

The outfit was fairly skin-tight, and if Beckett hadn't been wearing any underwear, she imagined the costume would've left little to the imagination. It was almost like a second skin, with stockings and sleeves that clung so tightly to her arms, she knew extricating herself from it would prove a challenge. Beneath the bright pink top was the traditional fluffy tutu that expanded out and curled around her waist. It was interesting, to say the least, to walk around in and she had no doubt that if Castle saw her like this, he'd remark how one of his fantasies had finally been fulfilled.

Beckett didn't have to wonder if she looked as ridiculous as she felt, because the stares and other assorted reactions she received upon re-entering the multi-purpose room answered that question for her. All she could do was pretend she wasn't embarrassed as she made her way towards the Arts & Crafts table. Her detective's mind had been kicked into high gear as she recounted the night's events, knowing that by this point, something didn't sit right concerning how everything had unfolded. Follow the evidence was the mantra at the precinct, and if Beckett went backwards through the night, everything could be traced back to one single event. Or, more specifically, traced back to a single person.

"Matt."

Almost like he was a genie from a bottle, Matt materialized in front of Beckett with a grin on his face that made him look like the Cheshire Cat. "Are you having fun, Miss Beckett?" he asked tauntingly. All that seemed to be missing was a "nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!"

"Well, Matt," Beckett replied, her hands balling into fists, "it's not exactly what I signed up for."

"Ha ha! Ms. Woodside always tells us we can't always get what we want ... except now!" Matt proceeded to blow a raspberry at her before bolting off into the crowd.

In her career as a Detective, Beckett had been in many footchases, but this was the first where she was wearing a ballerina costume that made running feel a bit more awkward than it normally did. And usually, she was able to remain in control of any frustration such an experience entailed, but this time, she couldn't help seeing nothing but red. She weaved in and out of partygoers as carefully as she could, keeping Matt's fleeing form in her vision all the while. She also made sure to keep her pace slow enough so as not to draw too much attention.

Eventually, she and Matt reached the edge of the crowd, where Matt ascended a short flight of four stairs, turned around to give Beckett a mischievous grin and darted behind a closed curtain. He had led her to the stage of the multi-purpose room, where plays and other such performances were most likely held. Beckett noted the closed curtain and quickly glanced around to see if anybody was looking her way. The closed curtain was actually fortuitous; it afforded her the opportunity to confront Matt without any wandering eyes or curious ears.

Taking in a deep breath, she climbed the stairs gracefully and walked behind the curtain.

The backstage area wasn't much to speak of. The sides of the curtain were rolled up into columns of red fabric. The stage floor was completely empty of anything; no props, no chairs, nothing. There was supposed to be a show of some sort near the end of the party, but perhaps the setup didn't require a lot of work. The back wall was that same white brick structure, and the only source of light came from a flashlight being held by Matt, who was just past the center of the stage and holding the light up underneath his face in the same way storytellers around a campfire would when they would tell a scary story.

"Welcome to your nightmare!" he declared in a very Dracula-like voice. He switched to his regular voice when he said, "I'm glad the costume I picked out for you fits!" The flashlight focused on Beckett as it traveled up and down her body, illuminating the pink tights.

"You're coming with me," Beckett said in that deadly calm tone of voice that made many a criminal quiver. "And we're going to tell Principal Silva all about your little escapades."

"Well, you'd better come and get me, then!"

Beckett scowled and stepped forward, only to have Matt shine the light directly into her face. She grunted and reflexively held up her hands in front of her eyes, but still kept walking. That was a mistake.

The next step her right foot took landed on a section of the stage floor that she realized too late was more slick and slippery than the rest of it. As a result, her foot was pulled forward as she tried to retain her balance, but it didn't work. With a yelp of surprise, Beckett's upper body fell with her leg, only straight down, so that she performed a full split, keeping true to her costume.

It didn't hurt, because as she and Castle could both attest to, Beckett was quite flexible. However, there was one particular sound that accompanied the action, the last sound that she wanted to hear at the moment: tearing fabric. Beckett didn't need to guess where it had come from, so she just groaned and looked back up at Matt, who was grinning wildly and holding up his right arm. She also noticed he had moved further towards the edge of the stage.

"It's showtime, Miss Beckett!" he whispered loudly and excitedly.

He brought his arm down sharply, and as if on cue, the curtain began to part. Just freaking great, Beckett thought bitterly as she was revealed to the crowd in her current position. She held her head up for a moment, eyes closed as she tried to remain calm and then opened them to look out at the sea of faces staring at her yet again.

The reaction was delayed, as everybody had to take a moment to register what they were seeing. But when it happened, it was a mixture of applause and snickering. Beckett, her face slightly red, rocked back and forth until she fell to the floor and her legs weren't out to the sides. Unfortunately, the way she did caused her backside to face the crowd, and what snickering there had been turned into full-on laughter as everybody got a good view of part of her purple underwear while she got to her feet. Her face now beet red, Beckett hurriedly scrambled off the stage and went looking for a place, any place, to regain her composure.

If I ever come back to this school, it'll be too soon.

The following week, during recess, Emily sought out Matt on the playground. It had been a while since she'd seen him there, but that wasn't a surprise, since Miss Beckett had told on him to Principal Silva about all the pranks on her during the Halloween party. He had gotten a few days of detention during recess, and today was his first day back.

She found him over by the jungle gym, getting ready to climb it with a few of his friends. "Hi, Matt," she greeted him.

"Hey, Emily." He jumped down off the jungle gym and walked over to her.

"Thanks for not telling on me to Principal Silva," she said, kicking a small mound of dirt sheepishly with the tip of her shoe. "That was nice of you."

Matt shrugged. "Don't mention it. I never tell on my friends. Besides, it was worth it. You were right, it was fun helping you pull some of those pranks on Miss Beckett! I mean, did you see my perfect aim with those darts and her butt?"

The two kids giggled at the memory while glancing around to make sure no teachers overheard them.

"It was funny when I poured the glitter on her, too!" Emily laughed. "And when she sat in the paint! She didn't even know it at first!"

"Yeah, makes me kinda wish we could do it again," said Matt once his laughter had died down a little.

"You never know," Emily winked. "We might see her again one day. Anyway, wanna play?"

"Sure!"

Emily and Matt raced back over to the jungle gym and began to climb, two friends who had now become partners in crime.