I am reposting this chapter, in hopes it will fix whatever is happening that is preventing people from opening it.

Once in every generation, there is born a girl destined to fight the vampires, demons and monsters that prowl the night. She is the Slayer.

Beckett blinked as the narration ended and the credits (much longer than she was use to) finished, finally allowing her to begin moving around the dark cemetery. Normally, back when she had been little more than a puppet, she had been unable to keep her own memories in the 'real world', only remembering her true self and her love for Castle when she was yanked into the white room. But because she had brought herself to this place, Beckett was able to remember all.

That's how she knew that the 'real' Lanie Parish would never be caught dead in that ugly orange sweater.

"Come on, Katie, dish!" Lanie said, her voice a higher pitch. In fact, when Beckett stared at her, she realized that Lanie was around 8 years younger...and so was she.

"Yeah, Katester, spill already," a 23 year old Ryan quipped, looking a bit doughier and sporting a mop of hair.

Beckett shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Normally she would just plunge into an 'episode', saying her lines naturally (or that is how it felt) and only at the end realize they were horse-crap she'd been forced to say. That was always the scariest part of these little 'episodes'...during them, all the emotions and thoughts felt so right. It was only after the fact that she realized something was wrong and regretted her actions.

Now, without the puppet strings, she was forced to improvise. "Sorry, I was, uh, wool gathering. Baaaaa!"

She hoped that didn't sound as lame as she thought it did.

"No problem Katie, I know you are still trying to wrap your head around your vamp stalker," Lanie said, sidestepping a headstone.

"Vamp stalker?" Beckett asked (wishing they would stop calling her Katie!). She glanced to her right, and with a casual grace plunged her stake into the heart of a vampire that was trying to sneak up on her (who looked suspiciously like Demming).

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, not liking the name. Makes it sound like a stalker of vampires. Guess that could be your cousin...Miffy the Vampire Stalker!"

"Miffy?" Beckett asked.

"Hey, that is A material!" Ryan said, offended she wasn't doubled over, laughing at his joke.

"If by A you mean abysmal," Beckett quipped, proud that she had come up with such a clever retort. She twirled her stake, taking stock of her situation. She was in a dark graveyard, dressed in very fashionable (if battle practical) shoes, flanked by Ryan and Lanie and having an actual quippy conversation. She felt stronger than she ever had and was ready to kick some undead ass.

All that was missing was...

"Oi! Beckett!"

Beckett turned and did her best not to snort. Castle was leaning against the wall of a crypt, a cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers. He was dressed all in black, from the Doc Martins that adorned his feet to the long leather duster that hung off his shoulders. His pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight as he watched her with those bright, almost-amber colored eyes, the smoke from his cig floating up around him. He was sex on legs and she wanted to eat him up..

...except for his hair!

Beckett hid her chuckle behind her hand, Castle reaching up to run his hand along his bleached and gelled hair. It looked so WRONG on him...like he was wearing a bad Halloween costume. He glowered, resisting the urge to growl at her in frustration.

"What do you want, Dead Boy?" Ryan asked snidely.

"Want to have a word with Be...I mean the Slayer."

"Uh, sorry, we have this all scheduled out, no time for vamp conversations. And by that I mean conversations with vampires, not conversations about vampires, which we do have time for but not with you and..." Lanie said quickly, babbling helplessly.

"It's ok guys," Beckett said, bringing her stake up. Only Castle saw the slight wink she gave him. "I can handle him."

"You sure Katester?" Ryan asked.

"I'm sure."

The two nodded, mentioning they would let Montgomery know where she was, before heading out of the graveyard, leaving Beckett and Castle alone...save for the dead people that surrounded them. Luckily, none of them seemed interested in rising from their graves, so they had the cemetery all for themselves.

"So, you're British," Beckett said with a laugh.

"Bloody horrible," Castle said, though a smile touched his lips. "And look at you, all sweet and innocent."

"I am not innocent," Beckett said, tossing her stake aside. "I'm tough and strong."

"I don't know...look all tender and soft...ready for me to eat." Castle moved in closer, running a hand through her hair. "Heard the only thing better than killing a Slayer..."

Beckett jumped him, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him hard. The two of them tumbled to the grass, rolling upon the graves like a pair of lovesick teens (two creepy, creepy teens, but still...). Castle soon found himself on top, grinning around the fangs he was sporting (but atleast no bumpies!) as he leaned in close, running his tongue along her neck.

"God...waited so long...can't believe-"

Beckett's mouth filled with dust.

She sat up, eyes wide and heart shattered as she felt Castle's remains float down upon her skin. Her hands trembled as dark laughter filled her ears, the stake that had ended Castle's unlife lying beside her.

"You think I was going to let Richard the Bloody take what was mine, lover?"

Beckett looked at the intruder in confusion, taking in his dark, tight shirt and ridiculously poofy hair. "Seeley Booth?"

Booth frowned. "That's Boothelus, slayer, and I am hear to take what is mine...isn't that right, Bonesilla?"

Temperance Brennan looked at the sky, her old-fashion gown twirling about her ankles as she spun about. "It is illogical to say that fairies exist or the stars talk to me, so I must clearly be insane."

"Katie!" Alexis shouted, looking to be about 15 years old. "I know you don't realize it, but I am your sister that was magically created by monks for no good reason! Can I have $100? If you say I can't, then I am going to whine...alot."

Beckett growled. "Nope, not happening. Get me out."

The world disappeared, leaving her in the black room. She looked at her gray-clad feet and sighed, wishing she had kept the shoes.

"Well that sucked!" Castle complained, rubbing his chest. He swore he could still feel the stake stuck in his heart.

"At least you are alive!" Beckett exclaimed, floating over to him and hugging him tight.

"Yeah, but that was stupid of me. I forgot that Joss Whedon loves torturing women and making them miserable. Still, Firefly was good."

"Not that good if it only lasted one season."

Castle grumbled, but his anger faded when he found Beckett hugging him tighter, tears in her eyes.

Beckett rubbed her face against his chest. "I don't want you dying again, you hear me?"

"I know, Kate, I know."

"We need a world where people don't die...and there are happy ends and everything is sunny and bright..." Beckett considered their options. "Someplace where good always wins, the guy always gets the girl, and there is music and laughter and color! I want color...bright, brilliant colors...I got it!"

Castle didn't have time to say a word before he felt the world fade around him again.

Next Time: Beauty and the Castle