Author's Note: I wanted to have some chapter from minor character's point of views, so chapter is Lanie POV. I enjoyed channeling our favorite medical examiner so much, I wrote enough for three chapters, so if you guys like this chapter we'll be coming back to her POV for other chapters later in the story.

Thanks again for your beautiful reviews.

Takes place during Season 3's 'Punked'

The call about the body came at 7:30am. Technically, the night shift were supposed to be on until 8am, but there was no point in them starting on a case when they'd just have to handover the moment they secured the scene. It was a sort of unspoken rule that the incoming shift were lenient about their starting time, so Dr Lanie Parish didn't complain about being called into work slightly early.

Well, she didn't complain much.

The techs gave her the nod that the scene was secured and photographed, and Lanie moved forward, first taking in the general field, and then moving in closer, noting the position of the body. She squatted beside the body, making sure to examine him from each angle before moving a gloved hand in to begin her examination.

As usual, she blocked out her surrounds as she worked. Crime scenes were busy and frequently very noisy places. Still, as she was getting a closer look at the GSW in the chest the banter of her favourite detective/writer odd couple pierced the air.

"I'm just saying, I was the go-to-guy! We were a team. We shared everything."

"That's not going to change."

"Of course it is!"

"It's just a boyfriend, Castle."

"It's not just a boyfriend, Beckett. It's a wedge driven into the very heart of our close relationship. It's the end of an era."

Lanie looked up from the body, catching sight of Beckett and Castle, who had passed the police tape and were standing a few feet away from the body.

"I think you're jumping the gun here. It's only been a few months."

"It's been a few months?! My God, drive a dagger into my heart. This has been going on for months, and you didn't tell me."

"Relax, Castle, you're sounding like a Jewish mother. It started over the summer while you were away."

"You still should have told me."

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react like this."

"Well, how else could I react?" The writer paused, looking pained. "This changes everything."

The ME could do little more than stare at the pair, flabbergasted. Something didn't add up. She couldn't believe Kate could be dating anyone, especially for months. They'd spent the past months sorting out the loss of Kate's cousin, and making sure she and Castle had gotten custody of her cousin's two young sons. It had been clear Kate wasn't seeing anyone, and Lanie didn't think the detective would have found the time to meet someone, to say nothing of the emotional upheaval she had been going through.

Yet, Kate had clearly been saying she had a boyfriend of a few months.

For a moment, Lanie felt oddly betrayed. A little bit because the detective hadn't told Lanie, her supposed best friend about it. But mostly, she realized, because if Kate was dating anyone, it should be the writer by her side, looking at her with such devotion and loss it broke Lanie's heart.

"Castle," Lanie greeted with a nod. "Detective," she added a tad frostily, looking at Beckett.

Kate looked surprised.

"Lanie! Tell me you've got something to cheer me up," said Castle.

"I don't know," the ME replied. "Will a large caliber GSW to the chest do?"

Castle sighed heavily. "It'll have to, I suppose."

"If it makes you feel any better, the body was naked when it was found."

The writer perked up slightly.

"But," added Lanie. "I found clothing fibres in the bullet wound."

"So he was wearing clothes when he was shot."

"Bingo," said the ME.

"Why would someone shoot a guy, and then strip him?" pondered Castle. "Maybe there was evidence on the clothes," he thought aloud. "Or maybe he was wearing super expensive designer wear, and someone shot him for it."

Lanie decided that Beckett and Castle had been working together too long, because Beckett actually considered that for a moment.

"Nah," said Kate. "If you wanted the clothes, you'd strip him before you shot him. You wouldn't want blood stain on the Armani."

The writer nodded in agreement. "The distressed look is in, but I wouldn't quite go that far."

"Well, I'll leave that part up to you guys. I'll just let you know if I can find out anything from the fibres that were left behind," replied Lanie.

She knew it was wrong, but all the way through the preliminary investigation at the scene, Lanie couldn't help but be a little cold to the female detective. She understood that Kate and Castle weren't actually together, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the detective was doing wrong by the writer in dating someone else.

It was unfair of her. Kate was going through a lot, and if someone made her happy then Lanie shouldn't judge the other woman for it.

Still, every time she looked at them, she could see that over flowing potential. She could see how happy they could be. She could see more kids and a house and someday, maybe 50 years down the line, Kate still giving the writer attitude when they toothless and half demented and surrounded by a dozen grandkids.

More than anything in the world, Lanie just wanted her best friend to finally have the happiness she deserved.

Lanie didn't usually get involved in the work that the detectives did down at the Precinct. She had more than enough work to do without wondering about the 'why' of the case. She was much more into the 'how'. How the perp did it, and how Lanie could prove it.

Of course, Javier didn't usually call her from the emergency room asking how long he would have to wear a neck brace after a karate chop to his cervical spine.

"I want this guy to fry," Lanie said, the moment she saw her detective sitting up in bed with the cervical collar on.

"My thought's exactly," Javier replied.

"Oh, my baby," said Lanie, gently caressing his cheek. "Are you in a lot of pain? They better have you on the good stuff," she added, picking up the medical chart from the bottom of the detective's bed and leafing thought it.

"A little sugar'll make it all better," commented Javier with a smirk.

Lanie lent over and kissed the daylights out of him.

"Damn," said Javier with a smile. "It was almost worth the whole thing, just for that kiss."

He looked slightly dazed. Lanie wasn't sure if it was from the kiss or the oxycodone., but she was willing to take full credit. Javier hooked an arm around her, pulling her onto the bed beside him, scooting over to make room.

"Ryan just went to go call Beckett," he informed her.

"You scared the shit out of me, Javier. Don't do it again."

"It's the job. You know I can't promise that."

"I know. But just fool me for a minute and tell me everything's going to be ok."

"Hey," he said, turning slightly to make eye contact. "Everything is going to be ok. Doctor's just making me wear this thing as a precaution. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Ryan's bribing her to do it, just so as he can make fun of me. Don't you worry your beautiful little head about it, Chica."

Lanie settled into his side for a moment. "Thanks," she said, feeling both comforted at his words, and annoyed for being comforted. "So, I take it the guy you took down is the killer?"

"Well, his fingerprints are all over the dead guy's wallet. And we found an unregistered .45 in his apartment, which you're going to tell us matches the .45 in our vic's chest. Slam dunk." He mimed shooting a basketball.

"It's not a .45."

"What?"

"The bullet in our vic. It's not a .45. Or a .38. Or a .44 or .357 or a .22 or 9mm or any other kind of bullet I've seen before."

"So what the hell is it? Some new kind of bullet?"

"Not new, old. I'm still running tests, but I think the bullet that killed our vic is over 200 years old."

"Well, shit," said the detective with a frown. "You mean I got beat on for nothing?"

Lanie bit her lip. "Sorry, honey."

Javier waved it off. Then he chuckled.

Lanie raised an eyebrow, wondering what about this situation he found funny.

"Just picturing what Castle's going to say about a 200 year old bullet," said Javier.

They considered it for a moment.

"Time travel," they both said in unison. They were silent for a moment, both picturing Castle's excitement, and Beckett's frustration at having to deal with Castle's excitement.

"Speaking of our token mystery writer, what do you think about this whole 'boyfriend' thing?" she asked.

"Boyfriend? Wait, Castle has been talking to you about that too?" The detective let out a groan. "He's been going on about it all day. I should probably be grateful I get to park it here instead of heading straight back to the 12th to listen to them fight about it some more."

"You did not almost break your neck – and almost give me a heart attack – just to avoid Castle's little girl whining."

"Oh were your worried about me?" said the detective with a smirk. "Nice to know you care, Dr Parish."

"Of course I care. Obviously not as much as I would if it was Ryan in that neck brace, but still…"

Javier elbowed her in the side. "Hey!" he protested.

Lanie smiled, momentarily distracted. "Still, I can understand why he's pissed."

Javier looked surprised. "Really? I think he's blowing the whole thing out of proportion."

"What? This has been going on for months, behind his back, and you don't think he's got a reason to be upset?"

"Well it's not like he owns her, right? Girl's gotta right to date if she wants. She's old enough."

"It just feels wrong. After everything that's been going on, and she was getting freaky with some guy behind his back the whole time?"

"I doubt there's been much 'getting freaky' going on. I think the whole thing is more about making lovey-dovey eyes over coffee at this stage."

"She having coffee with him? That's supposed to be her and Castle's thing."

"Ok, now I think you're the one who's overreacting."

"Coffee is totally below the belt. I think I'm gonna have to have a talk with my girl."

"Er, right. Well, good luck with that," said Javier.

Apparently, their vic was an investment banker (and not a very good one, since he'd recently got a bunch of investors on a deal that had tanked and lost them all millions), with an interest in antique guns. Beckett and the boys had chased down a person of interest who had an antique gun collection, and had sent them around to ballistics for checking.

Of course, that was like Christmas for the ballistics guys, who got to fire off a bunch of weapons worth millions, some hundreds of years old. Lanie was pretty sure they didn't even care that none had been the murder weapon.

Lanie was returning the bullets to ballistics, agreeing with their assessment that none matched the bullet that killed the victim, when she ran into Castle.

"What brings you down here, Writer Boy?"

"Just grabbing the report for Beckett."

"Really?" asked the ME, sceptically. "You don't usually come down in person for the report."

"Alright, they were some really cool guns! I wanted to see if the boys in the range would let me fire one."

"Did they?"

"No," pouted the writer. "But Haywood agreed with my theory about this being a time traveling killer."

"Really?" asked the ME, sceptically.

"Well ok, he didn't agree. But he did say that it 'wasn't the craziest thing I've come up with'. That's something."

"Do you really believe in time travel?"

"I don't know. Don't tell Beckett that though." He paused, looking pensive for a moment. "It's a nice thought, isn't it? That if things go completely wrong, we could go back and change it."

"What would you change?"

Castle seemed to contemplate the question for a while. Lanie wondered if he was going to answer. "I don't know," Castle finally replied. "I mean, if I could go back and stop Johanna Beckett from dying, well, yeah, I'd do that in a heartbeat. But then Beckett wouldn't be a cop, and all those victims she's helped would have never had justice. Or I could go back and stop my mother's vile ex-husband from breaking her heart and stealing her money. But then she wouldn't have moved in with me, and we wouldn't be so close. So maybe it's not that easy."

Lanie nodded, surprised at the writer's uncharacteristic sincerity.

"Or maybe I could just go back with the super jackpot lotto numbers and live out my days having beautiful women feeding me grapes in the Caribbean," the writer finished.

Lanie laughed. "That's better. For a minute I thought you were actually getting serious on me."

"Serious? Me?" Castle affected a look of horror. "Never!"

Lanie smiled, changing tack slightly. "Listen, I heard you and Beckett talking at the crime scene this morning. I just wanted to let you know that I'm with you, one hundred per cent. She's totally out of line on this one."

"Thanks, Lanie," said the writer. "But you know, maybe Beckett's right. Maybe I'm blowing the whole thing out of proportion."

"This has been going on for months, and she didn't tell you. And it shouldn't be going on at all in the first place," said Lanie.

"No, Beckett's right. I'm just being overprotective. She has a right to date whoever she wants. Unless she wants some 500 pound trucker named Bubba. Or one of those creepy prison romances, where women write to men on death row, and become convinced of their innocence and then marry them in a conjugal visiting trailer." He shuddered in horror.

"Well, maybe there's worse in the world.," Lanie conceded. "But there's better too," she added, with a significant look at the writer.

"I suppose I'm just having trouble letting go. It's just that she's been the most important person in my whole world for so long. It's hard to have to give that up. I keep picturing them together. You know, his creepy arm around her shoulders at the movies, his smarmy eyes looking at her like she's a piece of meat. Well, not that I even know what he looks like."

"You haven't met him yet?"

"No. But it's going to have to happen. I mean, I'm sure she's going to bring him back the loft sometime."

Lanie winced, feeling back for the writer.

"Hang in there, Castle. There no way this will last. It's just a rebound from all the upheaval and changes lately. No way is it going to last. You just stick around and be her friend, same as you've always done. And when this is over, you'll still be there, and she'll realise just how much she loves you." The ME slung an arm around the writer, giving him a lopsided one armed hug of support.

Castle's face lightened considerably. "You know, you're right. Thanks, Lanie."

Lanie watched him leave. That was a brave man, she thought. If only Beckett would wake up and see how lucky she was.

The following morning Lanie was sorting through the contents of a vic's stomach. The vic had been a homeless guy, with no medical records for Lanie to check, but given his blood alcohol level, not to mention the contents of his stomach, she was leaning heavily toward alcohol poisoning as a cause of death.

Stomach contents were always a secret fascination to the ME. Just a few hours ago, someone could be going about their normal business, eating their favourite food, and then – bang! – they were dead.

It always made the whole diet thing less appealing to Lanie. What was the point of denying yourself, if this could be your last meal? She thought of a quote she'd read years ago; "think of all those women on the Titanic, who waved away desert".

It was in the middle of such philosophical thought that Detective Beckett strode in, a sealed evidence bag in her hand.

"Morning," greeted Lanie, looking up from her tub of mixed food and digestive juices.

"Hey," returned the detective absently. "Do I want to know?" she asked, indicating the tub with her head.

"Nah," said Lanie. "Not your case."

Kate wrinkled her nose slightly. "Good. Well, I was just coming by with evidence in the Goldstein case. Do you have time to take a look?"

Lanie stood, snapping off her gloves. "What have you got for me?"

"We think these are the clothes the vic was wearing at the time of death," Kate replied, handing over the evidence bag.

Lanie put on fresh gloves, and took the package from Kate. One side of the evidence bag was clear plastic and she could see what appeared to be clothes from the 1800s. "Well, that would fit with the rest of the case, I guess. I'll need to finish up with the new guy," she gestured to the pile of stomach contents again, "but then I'll see if these clothes can tell us anything about the hours leading up to Goldstein's death."

"Thanks, Lanie," said the detective, as she got out the transfer of evidence form, and noted the date and time. She signed her declaration to say she had handed over the evidence to the medical examiners' office.

Lanie took the paperwork from her, and signed to acknowledge her receipt of the evidence. "No Writer Boy today?" she asked casually.

"Dropping off the kids," said Kate. "He'll meet me at the station. In fact, I should run."

Before the detective could leave, Lanie grabbed her arm. "One second," the ME requested.

Beckett looked at Lanie's gloved hand on her arm in horror.

"Clean gloves," Lanie promised.

Kate didn't look mollified, so Lanie made a big show and dropping her hand from the other woman's arm, raising an eyebrow as if to say 'happy?'

"We need to talk about this 'boyfriend' thing."

The detective groaned. "Not you, too. Has Castle put you up to this? Is he paying you to bug me about it? Cause I really don't have time for this."

"Well, make time. How long has this been going on for?"

"I don't know, it started in the summer, while Castle was away. Few months I guess."

"I can't believe you can be so – so – " Lanie struggled, trying to find the right word, "unrepentant about this."

"Why should I feel 'repentant' about it?"

"In all these months, you never thought this was something you should tell us – tell him about?"

"Frankly, I don't see how it's anyone's business."

"Not our business? Not our business?!" Lanie repeated, almost swelling with rage. "Just who has been watching your children while these little dates have been going on?"

"I don't know, Castle mostly. Martha once, I think."

"And you think that's ok?"

"Don't start on Martha, just because you don't know her well – " Kate started, hotly.

"It's not about Martha," Lanie broke in.

"Castle?! You have a problem with Castle watching the kids? He's basically their father."

"Oh, he's probably the best father I've ever seen. Which is why I have a problem with you flouncing around on some ridiculous - and – and – irresponsible dates, with some ridiculous - and – and – irresponsible guy when you've got this amazing man at home who loves you. Who's waiting for you. Who is perfect for you."

With a sudden flash, Lanie felt the anger leave her body. "Look, I know this is overwhelming, and I get it if you're not ready for it now. But you can't just parade other men around in front of Castle. He's not going to wait around forever."

For a moment, there was utter silence, as the detective stared at her in mute shock.

"This is all about my boyfriend?" Kate asked.

"Yes! And I don't see how you can be so blasé about it!"

Suddenly, she burst out laughing. "You think…?" she broke off, dissolving into laughter again. "Sorry. Right. You think that in the last few months, whilst recovering from losing all my possessions from a bombing, that I was gallivanting around town with guy, and that then my cousin died and I continued to hide this boyfriend from you all. A boyfriend who completely didn't mind that I was living with – and applying for joint custody of two children with – my male best friend." She laughed again. "Your fictional boyfriend seems pretty forgiving."

"But I heard you. At the crime scene! You were telling Castle that nothing had to change just because you'd have a boyfriend for a few months."

"Alexis," said Kate with a smile. "Alexis has had a boyfriend for few months, whom Castle just found out about yesterday morning."

"So when you said this wouldn't change anything about your relationship…"

"I was talking about Castle and Alexis. I was trying to reassure him that Alexis having a boyfriend was not going to change the close father-daughter relationship they share."

"And when Castle has been talking about everything changing and not sharing everything like in the past, he was talking about Alexis?" The detective nodded. Lanie buried her face in her hands. "How pissed at me are you right now?" she asked.

"I'll tell you what. You stop talking about how Castle is perfect for me, and I'll think about forgiving you."

In the end, Lanie just decided to shut up, and call this one a draw.

Lanie had no idea how they had done it, but Castle and Beckett had apparently found a 'Steampunk Society', that lived as though it was 1892. Sometimes people in this city had more money than sense.

Through that lead, they'd managed to find a pair of antique dueling pistols. Ballistics got to have fun again firing off some hundred and fifty year old guns.

And this time, the bullet they brought her was a match.

Even though it was after hours, Lanie figured Kate would want to know, so they could officially charge the suspect. Still writing her report on the positive results, Lanie reached for her phone, lodging it between her cheek and shoulder as she dialed Kate's cell from memory.

She hoped Kate wasn't still pissed about earlier.

"Kate Beckett's phone."

Most of her attention on the paperwork before her, Lanie was momentarily surprised. "Castle?" she asked.

"You were expecting another man to be answering Beckett's cell at 8pm on a Wednesday? Should I be worried?"

Lanie supposed she probably deserved that. Still, smart-assed writer. Hmmpf. "Got the ballistics report on those duelling pistols for Beckett."

"You're working late." Lanie forgave his earlier smart-arsed comment due to the concern she could hear in his voice.

"That's cause I'm busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. Now, is Kate free?"

Castle chuckled. "She's upstairs with the boys, checking the cupboard for monsters. Although both of the boys adamantly don't believe in monsters, because that's a baby thing, they still can't get to sleep until she does it. We have a theory that they're regressing into some more infantile behaviours in order to cope with the stress of everything."

"That makes sense," Lanie said. "It's a common reaction in kids. They're subconsciously looking to get back to the time where they were more strongly protected. In this case I guess they're trying to get back to a time when their mom was still around."

"Yeah, there seems to be a lot of attempted time travel lately. Anyway, the boys insist that Beckett has to be the one to tuck them and check the room is secure. Apparently, because she's a real cop the boys think she does it better than me."

Lanie laughed.

"She should be down in a minute though. Anything I can help you with in the meantime?" Castle continued. Lanie could hear a shuffling noise in the background, then the clinking of plates being staked together.

She knew, intellectually, that Kate and Castle lived together, raised three kids together. But moments like this, the day-to-day stuff, the very domestic picture of Castle answering Kate's cell, Kate putting the kids to bed while downstairs Castle cleared the dinner table, it still surprised her. Lanie took a seat on the edge of her desk, letting her weary muscles rest for a moment. Her tone softened. "How is she, really?"

"It's tough," he says. "But she's tougher."

There it was. The unwavering support and belief she knew she could count on from the writer. The writer's tone was overflowing with affection for the detective that he didn't even try to hide anymore. But then he never really had. "Thanks for looking out for our girl, Castle."

She thought he was about to reply, but his tone changed suddenly and he said, "Yes Dr Parish, she's just coming downstairs now."

Silence for a moment and then Kate's voice. "What have you got for us, Lanie?"

"Girl, if you are seriously living with that man, raising those kids together and not hitting that, I'ma smack you."

Castle's booming laughter almost drowned out Beckett's hiss. "Lanie! You're on speaker phone. He can hear you."

She was completely unrepentant. "Don't even get me started on Writer Boy. You been living in his house for six months and he hasn't even made a move? I'ma get Javi to take away his man-card."

"If we could just get back to the murder investigation going on here," said Beckett, her over professionalism trying to cover up the embarrassment in her tone.

"Honestly, hun, you and me are catching up this weekend, and having a talk."

"How about we start with the COD?" Kate asked, exasperation in her tone.

"Spontaneous combustion," the ME answered.

"Cool! How?" asked Castle.

"Unresolved sexual tension. Turns out if you ignore these things for too long they build up and explode. Seems to be a bit of it going around."

Castle's laughter exploded again and then was abruptly cut off mid-chuckle.

Kate Beckett had hung up on her.

AN2: So, what did you think of Lanie's POV? Happy to hear more from our ME?