"The reason they are not universes is that any given universe is not actually a thing as such, but is just a way of looking at what is technically known as the WSOGMM, or Whole Sort of General Mish Mash." – Mostly Harmless, by Douglas Adams

The next morning found Kate Beckett hurrying up to Ryan and Esposito in the middle of the 12th precinct. "You have to let me use your resources," she insisted, following the two of them when they tried to walk away from her. "Alan Basher's been murdered and I need to catch the killer!"

"Alan Basher?" said Ryan, shaking his head. "That's across town, he's not even in our jurisdiction."

"Well I'm not a cop, apparently, so I don't have a jurisdiction," reasoned Kate, stepping in front of them to keep them from progressing. "I feel like if I can solve his murder, everything else will just kind of fall into place."

"That's a nice theory," said Esposito, adopting an expression she knew he saved for the occasional insane witness or distraught family member, "but maybe you just need to take a vacation or something, get over this grief."

"It's not grief!" she said, stepping in front of him again when he tried to walk around her. "I didn't even know him! I mean, I did, but I don't remember because something very, very weird is going on and all I want to do is get back to my own time and space but until that happens the least I can do is go about my business as usual and solving murders."

"Kate," said Ryan, "we're sorry about your ex-boyfriend, but civilians can't just storm in here and use police resources."

"I'm not a civilian!" she said, desperate to find a way to prove this point. "I'm an NYPD Homicide Detective. My badge number is 0334."

"That's Montgomery's badge number," said Esposito, not believing her. In their minds, she'd just noticed Montgomery's badge number and memorized it for her own use.

"Yours is 1077," said Beckett, pointing at Esposito. "You used to work at the 54th precinct but then you were transferred after your partner Ike Thornton faked his death." Ryan tensed up, looking back and forth between the actress and his partner. Esposito's eyes had clouded up, and he seemed momentarily distraught.

"Ike Thornton," he said carefully, "did not fake his death." He stalked off, and Ryan followed him after turning around to glare at Beckett. As they walked away, Kate ran her fingers through her hair and wondered what she was going to do. She just had to work this case, had to find Alan's killer. It was in her bones. She knew with some sort of heightened sense of omnipotence that this was something that was absolutely necessary for her to do. The how she was still a little foggy on.

There's one person who's got my back no matter what universe we're in, she thought to herself as she left the 12th precinct.

"Castle," said Beckett into her phone, weaving in between the pedestrians on the sidewalk outside of the precinct. "It's Kate. I need your help."

"With what?" asked Castle on the other end of the line. "Character research?"

"No," said Kate. "Murder."

"You want me to help you kill someone?" She had to smile at the fact that he didn't sound immediately repelled, like he'd actually help her kill someone. That was Castle, alright.

"No," she said again. "I want you to help me catch a murderer."

For a while, the other end of the line was silent. She wondered if he'd hung up or if he was just mulling it over. The thought gave her a sinking in her stomach- she wasn't sure if she would be able to do this without Castle's help. Finally, he said, "Kate, are you alright?"

"No, Castle," she said. "No, I am most definitely not 'alright'."

Minutes later she stood in his apartment, pacing around the room because she was too jittery to sit down or to even stand still. Castle stood in his bathrobe in the middle of the room, watching her and wondering if she'd gone insane. "Kate, maybe you want to sit down?" he said, going with the "she's crazy" theory.

"No," she said. "And listen, you don't have to believe me but you should know that something strange is going on. And I'm not crazy, and I'm not lying, something legitimately strange is going on."

"Okay," he said, obviously not believing her but willing to play along. "Something strange is going on." She stopped pacing and turned to face him, hands on her hips. Despite what she'd said, she felt that he actually did have to believe her or she wouldn't be able to work with him.

"Your given name is Richard Alexander Rodgers," she said. "You changed it to Richard Edgar Castle when you started writing. Your favorite TV show is Firefly and you like to make weird breakfasts like s'morelettes." He was clearly impressed. If this solving murder thing didn't work out, she could always set up shop as an oracle or psychic and astonish people with her other-universe knowledge. "Now do you believe that something weird is going on?"

"Fine," he said. "Something is going on."

"And I don't know what it is." She resumed her pacing, planning out tactics in her head. She knew how to go rogue, she'd done it with Castle before. And she was a good detective, so she'd be able to sneak around sufficiently. "No one's going to take me seriously as a detective if I'm a famous actress," she realized.

"People took Reagan seriously as president," shrugged Castle.

"Great," she said, "so all I have to do is win a war and then I'll be able to solve this murder." She would need a disguise, a new name, and a badge. "You once told me you had a guy everywhere."

"I never told you that," muttered Castle, but she barely took note of it.

"Well, the you that I know," she said. "But it's true, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "What do you need?"

"I need a police badge," she said. "Handcuffs. A gun. Lock picks."

"Basically, police attire?" said Castle, fingering his cell phone. She nodded. As he dialed the first number, he glanced up at her and said, "You know you could get in a lot of trouble for impersonating a detective."

"Yeah," she said. "So are you willing to go down with me or are you scared?"

"No, I'm in," he said quickly, resuming his dialing. "Just hope you know what you're getting into." He held the phone up to his ear.

"Oh, I know, Castle," said Beckett. "I know exactly what I'm getting into."