Hi guys! This is my first fanfic, so it might not be the best, but I'm trying and hopefully it'll get better. I will be using a few characters from Criminal Minds as well, but I didn't think that was enough to characterize it as a crossover, so that's why I left it alone.

This is based off of the TNT show "Leverage", so if you watch that a lot of this will be familiar. I did switch some things up, though. I want to set up how everyone meets/their first job before I go off onto something different. If you haven't watched it before, I recommend it because it's perfect!

I don't have anything other than this typed out yet because I wanted to see if people would even be interested before I continued. So let me know, any kind of review is welcome and appreciated! I'm going away for the weekend and there's testing going on in school for a good month, but if people are interested I'd definitely try to get more up as soon as possible.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Castle/Leverage or any of their characters.

Chapter 1

Richard Castle, ex insurance investigator, sat alone on a tall stool, surrounded by shelves of alcohol and pictures hung proudly in frames. It was a large room, bare aside from those frames, occupied only with a bar and tables situated behind him, which were also vacant. He stared at his hands splayed out on the counter top as the bar tender poured him yet another drink.

"The next shuttle to the airport should be in 15 minutes, sir," he said once he was done pouring, throwing the hand towel over his shoulder before whisking off into the back room again.

Richard didn't say anything; instead he only nodded slightly before paying his attention to the glass in front of him. He stirred the golden liquid around, placing the glass to his lips, but he was interrupted by a foreign voice before he could enjoy the drink.

"Mr. Castle?" He didn't turn, but shifted his eyes towards the source of the sound, leaving his body facing the bar. "I'm sorry. I uh, I know who you are, I've read about you. That stolen Van Gogh painting you found a few years back, that was brilliant. It probably saved your insurance company millions of dollars, but you already know that. You always came through. But I know that when you needed them, they- what happened to your family was-"

Richard turned his body so he was now face to face with the man, cutting him off. "You know that part of the conversation where I punch you in the neck 5 or 6 times? It's approaching very quickly," he barked out in a low, husk voice, letting the glare of his eyes do more of the talking – or yelling, perhaps.

The man stumbled back a bit, looking slightly more nervous than he did a few seconds ago. "I'm only here to offer you a job."

Richard paused for a second before replying, "Well, what do you got?"

The man to his left, who introduced himself as Vladimir Khrushchev, started to explain why he came. Something of his – airplane designs – had been stolen from him by a man he knew. Dick Coonan.

Richard seemed confused. "So, what? You want me to find them?"

"Oh no, I know where they are," Vladimir replied quickly, looking unsure of his next choice of words. He took a short breath before continuing, "I want you to steal them back."

There was a long pause after his request, and the somewhat concentrated look on Richard's face suggested that he was thinking about everything he had just been told. Vladimir sat quietly next to him, studying his features, looking for any indication as to what he was thinking. What he was deciding to do. After what seemed like forever, Richard finally broke the silence.

"I don't know." He wasn't too convinced. He had just met this man not even an hour ago, and here he was asking him to take on this job. The one question that kept running through his mind was, why him? Had he just done some research and come across his name? It was possible. He didn't exactly have the cleanest record. It was mostly disorderly conduct though, far from theft, which brought about that question again. He had all the reason to be skeptical. Before he could transcend deeper into thought, Vladimir's voice brought him back to reality.

"Please, before you decide. Look at the people I've already hired," the man begged, shoving a folder across the table into Richard's view. "Do you recognize any of these names?"

Richard took the folder and opened it, revealing a pile of papers on numerous people. He rummaged through, using his fingers to go from file to file, skimming over all of the information he could process.

After a few moments he spoke up. "Yeah, I've chased all of them at one time or another," he replied, his eyes still aimed down at the names in front of him. He stopped when he saw one in particular. "Jennifer? You have… Jennifer?"

"Is there somebody better?"

He looked up slowly, catching the Vladimir's eyes. "No," he dragged his words out, as if talking to an illiterate, "but Jennifer's insane."

"That's exactly why I need you, Mr. Castle."

Richard closed the folder, placed it on the table and looked up. "No," he let out a small chuckle, "I'm not a thief."

The man shook his head with an amused look on his face. "No. Thieves I've got. What I need is you – an honest man who can watch them."

Everyone that he hired to do the job was a criminal in one way or another. They each had their own set of perfected skills. A certain job they did. And while they each did that job damn well, they worked alone. They always worked alone. In order for this to go forward as planned and succeed, it had to be a team effort. He wasn't sure any of them knew how to be on a team.

"They'll never work for you."

The man seemed unphased by what Richard had to say and only reassured him further. "They will. Trust me. For three thousand dollars each, they will."

He had a point. If anything was going to persuade a criminal to take on a job that wasn't their usual cup of tea, it was money.

He continued, "And for you, for heading this entire operation, it would be double. Please! Look at me here, I'm desperate."

Richard thought about it for a moment and looked at the man in front of him, weighing his options. Before he could fully collect his thoughts and make a decision, Vladimir began to speak once again.

"There would be a bonus. Coonan is insured by IYA, your old bosses. You of all people should know how much they're worth," he paused, waiting for some kind of response. Richard stared blankly and let his head bob into a small nod, but remained silent. 50 million dollars, he thought.

"Mr. Castle. How badly do you want to screw the insurance company that let your daughter die?"

Richard's eyes darted to the man in an icy glare, not so much aimed at Vladimir himself, but at what he had brought up. That single incentive, however, was the only thing he needed to push him over the edge into taking the deal. He wanted to do more than screw over IYA. He wanted to make them regret that very day they all remembered far too well. The day whose events they take no responsibility for whatsoever. The day he relives over and over every single night to the point where it's unhealthy. He wanted them to pay.

But since he couldn't kill them, screwing them over was going to have to do.