Disclaimer: I don't own Castle.

Prompt #20: Plotlines - You had to admit, sometimes the writer really did come in handy. His mind could process more scenarios than most cops ever considered.

Words: 720

Miranda Reynolds sat in a spare seat and watched as Detective Beckett and Richard Castle began hashing out theories on their victim's involvement in the case. She sipped her espresso and settled down for a long session of people-watching. Or in this case, partner-watching.

They were something else to watch.

Beckett was no-nonsense, by the book and logical as a mathematician. She looked at the evidence and tried to find the patterns in the victims' and suspects' lives. Alibis, records, and leads are what make her tick, and when she catches a fresh trail, she follows like a hound after the fox.

Castle was imaginative, given to flights of fancy and out-of-the-box thinking. He looked at evidence and saw patterns that most people wouldn't think were probative. Conjecture, plotlines, and conspiracy theories are what fuel his mind, and when one of his wild stories comes true, he crows like a rooster at daybreak.

Personally, Miranda found the writer's ability to brainstorm effectively very enjoyable. He was willing to think outside the box, something she knew hardened detectives had trouble doing when a case defied the normal boundries. He was also a fresh pair of eyes, having an outsider's perspective while not being a complete civilian about it.

Not to mention he could concoct the most outrageous scenarios known to man and literature while somehow making them seem plausible and relevent to the case.

Almost snorting into her espresso, Miranda amused herself by recalling some of the more flavorful of Castle's motives for murder. CIA conspiracy was always a popular one, as were mob hits and the victim living a double life. Sometimes alien abduction was on the table, or there was some foray into the supernatural. Once he believed that the crocs who lived in New York City's sewers chewed a victim's torso into the mangled mess they found.

But this one, hands down, was her most favorite.

"Reynolds!" Beckett called out, breaking the arson specialist's train of thought. The homicide detective had her arms crossed and looked somewhat annoyed. "Can you please come over here and help? Castle's off in la-la land again."

The writer scoffed at his partner. "You just don't appreciate my genius, Beckett."

"I want something that dwells in the realm of truth, Castle, not something that could be found in the science fiction section of Barnes and Noble."

Miranda tried not to burst out laughing at the pout on Castle's face. Looking over the timeline on the murder board, she said, "Actually, I like the whole ninja-assassin idea."

Castle snapped his fingers and pointed to her. "Yes! Finally! A convert!"

"You can't be serious," Beckett scoffed in disbelief.

"Hey, ninjas are shifty little bastards," Castle replied.

"When the mood for murder hits them," Miranda added with a shrug.

With huge smiles they exchanged a trio of high-fives. Esposito cracked up laughing in his seat. "Looks like another Castle Jr. has been born," he gasped out to Ryan, slugging his partner's shoulder playfully.

Castle turned to Miranda and said solemnly, "Do you accept the title of Castle Minor, Miss Reynolds, understanding the implications and responsibilities of such a title?"

Just as soberly, Miranda nodded. "I do understand, accept, and thank you for this gracious honor, Castle Prime." She bowed her head as Castle tapped each of her shoulders with a pen.

Backett facepalmed. "Next thing you know, I'll be branded the Lady Knight of the Realm."

The writer's eyes glittered with hope. "We can knight you."

"I'll pass, thanks."

With a small smile, Miranda leaned back on Esposito's desk and watched Beckett and Castle gradually return to the case at hand. The distraction was amusing, not to mention it made their juices really work once play ended and work began again. "Never boring around here, is it?" she asked.

"Not really," Esposito agreed. "Even when he crosses the line, he's a useful shadow."

She wasn't sure if it was pessimism or foreshadowing that made her mutter, "Wonder what'll happen when he realizes that it's not enough."

It went from fun to serious to fun again, then sad note? What is that about?

Review please!