A/N: Hi all, sorry this has taken ages. Little change of plan, dates in next. Won't be near as long before that ones up :) I'm still writing, I haven't bailed... xx ENJOY xx

It wasn't a space people felt at ease, nor was it a space the guilty could leave without a sheath of cold steel snapped to their wrists. It was designed to intimidate, and used to ruthlessly break the coldest of killers. The ambience was always heavy and the walls saturated with confessions of the unspeakable. Akin to its makers, it stood to bear witness to the darkest of souls, and detective Kate Beckett took a vast satisfaction in delivering every one of them to the intolerant hands of justice.

Amy Smart would be no different.

Kate winced for little more than a second, quickly forcing her eyes to adjust. The room was absurdly bright, almost clinical with the wide range of metals glinting throughout. To make matters worse if there wasn't enough vibrancy first hand, the double sided mirror behind mockingly echoed the metallic presence. So much so Kate could safely bet the brilliant red of Amy's dress was going to inevitably award her with a headache by the closing stage.

Amy Smart was clearly a woman of expensive taste. A label girl, though she reflected a younger ambience. And despite her surety that she had the right person the detective couldn't help the twinge of doubt that crept over her. Something about the woman seemed like a twelve year old playing dress up. A spoilt little rich girl who held immense satisfaction in always having a man pick up the tab. It made her feel wanted, needed, and strangely enough, loved. Kate hated those women, but she knew never to make the mistake of underestimating anyone. People were never that cut and dry.

The Detectives eyes flicked over her, drawing in every facet of her appearance as she paused in the doorway.

Esposito's depiction of the nine inch heeled bimbo was suddenly ringing loud and true. Kate could see she was the perfection image of a celebutant.

Her designer dress hugged tightly, complete with a set of stilettos and a small, but not surprisingly matching purse resting on the table in front of her. The salon bleached hair was pinned up tightly in a twist of curls, aside from a few ringlets loosely hanging down to frame her face. Kate could agree her choice of makeup gave a certain 'cheap' appearance, but she was a far cry from the red light district. At first glance not a single person could peg her as capable of murder, but anyone could place her in the line of women begging to get their chest signed. She practically screamed it.

Despite her flawless facade she was slumped in her seat as if she'd been waiting for hours, and the detective suddenly remembered – she probably had.

Kate watched intently as she closed the door and strode into the room confidently, powerfully. The blue of Amy's eyes flickered into view as they lifted for a brief moment, swiftly falling back to the table to avoid intimidation. Kate secured her seat opposite the other woman, quietly placing the folder onto the table and studying her features for a glimmer of emotion. Her face showed the obvious signs of crying – recently. But an unnervingly dark lack of grief was more than contemptibly evident, and it struck a chord. Kate Beckett was far from fooled.

She forced a civil smile, breaking the heavy silence. "Hi Amy, my name is Detective Kate Beckett. I'd just like to ask you some questions... It'll only take a minute of your time, and you can be on your way."

To a three by three cell and the joys of prison life...

"I've been here for two hours," Amy replied dryly. "What more is a minute, right?"

She tipped her head sarcastically and Kate instantly felt the subtle pull of a smirk slide across her expression, just moments before she could repress it. "I'm sorry I was a little tied up earlier."

"Right," Amy muttered, dropping her eyes to the table once more.

"So," Kate started calmly. "I think you can guess what this is about."

"Allan."

She nodded. "Correct."

"So why am I here?"

The detective smiled, leaning back and folding her arms with a purpose. "I think you know why, Amy." She tilted her head, willing the other woman to face her and as if on cue, their eyes met sharply.

"Actually Detective Beckett, I don't."

Kate halted for a split second, analysing her words. Something lingered in the tone of her voice that she couldn't quite put her finger on. But before she could identify it Amy threw her off guard and abruptly switched her M.O.

"The other detective..." Her eyes darted around the room, nervously, too nervously. As if it was practiced until the point of perfection. "I've already answered questions... the guy... before," she stammered. "Am I under arrest?"

Seriously? She's gonna pull that act!? Kate heaved an intolerant sigh within her mind, but smiled instead. She'd heard it all before. Hell, she'd probably logged over a thousand hours into learning how to read people! And Amy was an open book. But if this was how she wanted to play...

"Not at all," She paused studying the other woman as a sharp edge crept into her voice. "Unless you have something to hide..."

"Hide?" Amy questioned evasively. "No. I already told everything to the other detective. I don't understand why we have to go through it all again. Why am I here?"

"Relax," Kate answered placidly. "I'm the officer in charge on this case and the other guy - Detective Esposito wasn't supposed to talk to you without me present. So now..." She paused, judging her reaction. "I just need to go through everything with you. Understand?"

Amy raised an eyebrow, the blue beneath narrowing into an indiscernible scowl.

"Good." Kate smiled again, fuelling Amy's frustration valiantly. "It's just protocol. If I don't follow my rules I get slammed, so let's just go through your night again shall we?"

A blind hatred flickered in the other woman's eyes, and Kate knew in an instant her test had proven effective. Amy had more intelligence than she liked to let on, evidently loathing being spoken to as if she had a limited understanding. She clearly didn't like being misjudged or treated like the ditzy blonde, even if it was the image she portrayed. Beneath the exterior Amy was sharp, cunning, and no doubt had everyone do her bidding for the majority of her life. That was the only thing that didn't fit.

She knew how to manipulate people and she knew how to destroy them without so much as a strip of effort on her part, but to take matters into her own hands? Sure rage was a legitimate motive, and there was plenty to suffice a ruthless murder, but not within the terms she was going to throw out when she felt herself being cornered. No. This arrangement was of an entirely different nature.

Kate elevated an eyebrow, carefully smirking at the other woman. It was the only thing that didn't fit, until now.

Amy was a designer. Within the confines of her psychosis, she believed she had designed the perfect plan. But it had been recklessly mapped out and Kate was well aware of it. She just needed to hear it.

"What's the problem Amy? The quicker you can answer my questions, the quicker you can leave."

Technically a lie.

"Fine, go ahead detective."

"Okay." Hearing the tone once again Kate paused, watching her complacently. She knew it now. Amy was threatened, and strangely enough personally.

"You say that you were at work until what was it, eleven? And then you went to a party is that correct?"

She nodded.

"What time did you get to the party?"

Amy faltered for a split second, clearly not anticipating the question. "I don't know. Maybe midnight..." The last words tumbled out hesitantly, as if she was trying to replay a timeline in her mind. Covering her tracks.

"Midnight, huh." Kate leaned forward, uncrossing her arms and resting them on the table. "Can anyone corroborate that?"

"Huh?"

She bit her lip to suppress a laugh, sternly rewording the question a little louder instead. "Can anyone say they saw you around that time?"

"In case you're not aware detective, I go to the A list events. You're out for a good night. You never know anyone."

Kate scoffed. "You may like playing the party girl Amy, and I'm sure you seem to think I'm somehow impressed, even jealous but considering you're alibi just fell through I wouldn't be so cocky about it if I were you."

Amy's smile dropped.

"So tell me, what was your line of work again?"

Amy's eyes flashed, no doubt sensing the judgement. "Interior decorator."

"Ah, that's right. How could I forget ... Eleven o'clock is pretty late for that line of work. Someone have a pattern emergency? Cushions didn't quite match the lounge suite?" Kate held back a burst of laughter yet again, this time barely managing to still her mouth from forming a grin.

Amy shot her a fierce glance, almost growling her words out in reply. "I had a cancellation and had to fit a client in rather late."

Lie. "A cancellation, riiight... How is it that isn't what you said in your first report?"

Amy frowned. "What?"

Kate arched an eyebrow questioningly, placing a hand on the folder in front. "Well the file right here says that you were at home getting ready for this alleged party."

"So maybe I was in shock, you detectives had just told me Allan was dead."

"I thought he was Richard Castle to you," Kate countered automatically.

"He was!" Amy quickly corrected herself in turn.

Another lie. Kate gave her a sceptical glance, continuing. "So you were at this party until four AM right?"

Amy nodded silently.

"And you didn't leave at any time? Run to the store? An errand?"

The designer scoffed, quickly earning a raised eyebrow. "Where would I be doing errands past midnight detective?"

Just a certain other errand...

The detective nodded, fighting back a smirk. "So you never left the party?"

"No."

"No you did, or no you didn't?"

"What? No! I didn't leave the party."

Kate smiled, deviously setting the bait and shifting the focus. "If I'm not mistaken, Allan Trimby made you believe he was Richard Castle, you didn't think it was odd that he never took you back to his place?"

The very place she just came from...

Amy's eyes diverted across the room in an instant, avoiding the detectives stare and clearly unsettled with the sudden change in subject.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Kate retorted. "It never struck you as strange? What did he do Amy, keep the relationship in the bedroom? Buy you expensive gifts to keep you happy? Chanel, Dior... clearly that dress is designer... Am I on the right track? Except you weren't happy were you Amy? Because you knew he was lying to you."

"I didn't!" Amy exclaimed, biting far quicker than the detective had anticipated. "He did take me back to his place."

"Except it wasn't Castle's apartment."

"I didn't know that then."

As if! Kate sighed heavily to restrain from laughing and hitting her all in the same second. She slid the folder off her desk and into her hands as a distraction, pulling herself together in the process.

"Come on Amy! You look like the kind of girl to keep up with the magazines. Completely thrive on celebrity gossip, right? You can't possibly expect me to believe that."

"You don't know me," Amy sneered, shooting a glare at the detective.

"Let's see..." Kate counteracted.

Opening the folder up slowly, she flicked her gaze over the documents inside, making a show of reading them aloud.

"Only child, moved to New York when you were three. You've lived a pretty charmed life haven't you Amy?" Attended one the city's finest schools, high grades up until Junior high... Social suicide I'm betting since you did manage to pass your finals. Your father wanted you to go to college didn't he? Follow in his footsteps, only you didn't so he cut you off two years ago. Round about the same time you met George Anderson." Kate's eyebrows rose as she looked up briefly.

"With him for four months, were engaged for six, left him a week before the wedding. Coincidentally the same time your father began covering your expenses again... People are like toys to you aren't they? You just swap em out for newer models when they've done their time." She frowned curtly, turning a page. Her eyes lit up as they fell across the words, and she immediately had to tighten her jaw to keep from grinning.

The detectives tone hitched higher as she continued, almost arrogant. "Charged for two counts of indecent exposure... and in the same year too. Seventeen on both occasions. One in a public building, and the other on the roof of your house...? I guess the neighbours didn't quite enjoy the show... But daddy dearest fortunately had both cases thrown out of court and you never received a record. Convenient him being a lawyer..."

A sharp silence followed and Kate quickly deemed it safe to throw in her last comment. "Never would have pegged you for an exhibitionist." She watched as Amy quickly shook herself from a heavy veil of shock.

"How did you...?"

"The bummer about breaking the law Amy, even though your case gets dismissed, the documentation shows. When judges like to say you're record gets wiped clean, the truth to that is it won't come up through a simple background check. But there's always a paper trail. We can't very well let criminals slip through the cracks by actually erasing their previous convictions. It's essential to criminal profiling. Did you really think the judicial system would do that? Actually anyone with the right equipment and connections could access your file. Lucky for you your father makes damn sure your offences stay off the books. Takes care of all your needs..." A haughty grin swept across Kate's face. "Oh wait, that would be the employee you were caught with in the elevator of the Empire State Building..."

The detective shot Amy a quick glance, burying the nagging memory of her lunch hour as she continued. "Oh here's something interesting, your last credit card charge was over three grand." She let out a low whistle as she allowed the folder to glide to a close and drop back to the table. "Three thousand in one hit? I'd hate to see the monthly bill."

"So what?" Amy retorted spitefully.

"So half of New York knows where Richard Castle lives. You may be lacking in a certain quality called sanity, but I'm fairly sure you're not as dumb as you like to put out." Kate's tone hardened as she continued.

"You're best friends with Gina Cowell, and I'm sure we both know she's Castles publisher."

Ryan jolted as the door to the viewing room creaked open, both boys expecting the furious expression of their boss as they quickly concealed the notes in their hands. Montgomery couldn't stand bet pools on his force, and both boys had noticed he was especially fierce if they involved Kate Beckett in any way. Ultimately they risked a week on desk duty every time they contributed in anything remotely resembling a bet. But like every time, the temptation was too great.

Providentially the writer poked his head through the crack of the door, speed scanning the room and finally focusing on the duo.

"Dude! Ever heard of knocking? You almost gave us a heart attack man."

Esposito glanced at his partner condescendingly. "That was all you bro. You didn't see me gettin spooked by a door."

Castle hesitated in the entrance for a moment, watching Ryan open his mouth to fire a comeback, obviously deciding against it as he shut it again. The day he actually stood up to Esposito would be the day he'd fall over backwards. For now it provided great entertainment.

"Rick Castle!" Esposito chanted, briefly capturing his attention. "Just the man we wanna see."

"That's my name don't wear it out," the writer quipped instantly. "Silly question but do you guys know where ..." Castle stopped, tuning into the hard tone cutting through the silenced background. His gaze flicked between the two. "Is that...?"

"Beckett?" Ryan finished smugly. "Yep."

Castles eyes lit up. "Who's the unsuspecting victim?"

"See for yourself."

"She's batting in the major leagues man."

A wide grin flew across his face as he hurriedly shut the door, borderline skipping into the room. The adjacent room came into view and his mouth instantly dropped open. "Come on! The girlfriend!?" He spun to face the two detectives disparagingly. "Beckett is bringing her in and there's no sign of popcorn? Are you kidding me? This is like the clash of the titans... Not even gummy bears! You should be ashamed of yourselves."

Esposito frowned. "Gummy bears?"

"Disgraceful effort," Castle replied, ignoring the detectives comment. "Potential catfight and nothing to enhance the experience..."

"Potential shooting more like it," Ryan commented quietly. "Surprised she hasn't flipped the lid yet. I've never seen her this cool."

The writer glanced back at the window for a quick observation. "For future reference Ryan, she's one step away from diving over that table and strangling Miss Smart with her bare hands."

Esposito scoffed and took a step forward. "Not even Castle! Look at her, she's completely in control."

"Did I say she wasn't in control?" Castle retorted superiorly. "Aside from the clenched fist underneath the table, she's tense all over, there's practically a full-scale inferno in her eyes and she's doin that thing with her jaw."

Ryan glanced back at the window, studying the female detective intensely. "What thing with her jaw?..."

"I think we know her better than you Castle." Esposito challenged brazenly.

Castle quickly directed his focus on Ryan to answer his question. He'd deal with Esposito next.

"When her jaw clamps down tight enough you'd need a wrench to get a word out. Happens when she's really mad. I used to get it all the time. Silent treatment included." He switched to Esposito. "I think we all know I'm familiar with Miss Kate Beckett on a much... deeper level. Enough to detect that her legs are crossed."

The detective laughed. "So what? Women cross their legs. That doesn't tell you jack about Beckett."

"On the contrary, have you ever tried getting up really fast with your legs crossed?" Castle glanced at the somewhat disturbed expressions in front of him taking no notice. "It's virtually impossible, especially under that table. And a detective's gotta be prepared for any situation. If you haven't noticed Beckett usually crosses her ankles, not legs. Much easier to uncross and move fast."

"You do know she isn't regularly chasing suspects around the room, right?"

"Funny, honeymilk. The only times she crosses her legs is when a suspect is really pushing her to the limit. It's a self power thing."

Ryan's brow furrowed in response. "That strangely kind of makes... sense, but how have you seen where her legs are...?"

The writer smiled mischievously. "I'm going to assume that was not intended to be as dirty as it just sounded and say I have nothing further on the matter."

A wide grin spread across Esposito's face. "Took a peak under the table Castle? If she knew she'd crucify you."

"I know," Castle replied bluntly. "That's why I never have and never will. I value my life."

"A power thing huh?"

"Yup. Also a slim chance she needs to haul ass to the bathroom, but I'm certain it's the first in this case."

Both detectives grinned, shaking their heads at the writer's one-of-a-kind witticism. They'd grown so accustomed to it, it was beginning to turn out abnormal without Castle around. For all his nonsensicality, irrationality and strangely enough uncanny precision, he made the job highly bearable, dare say he made murder entertaining.

Ryan pointed at the glass as he refocused on the show. "She's gone silent now dude! What's a bet she's gonna crack before Ms Smart does?"

Castle shook his head. "My Kate? Not a chance."

The duo froze, turning and staring at the best selling author.

"Your Kate?" Esposito mimicked "Castle, you would have a bullet in you right now if she heard that."

"Highly likely."

"But while we're on that subject..."

The writer arched an eyebrow at the wide grin plastered across Esposito's face. Why did he get the impression he wasn't going to like this?

"You haven't shared with us yet."

"Who says I like sharing?" Castle deflected coolly.

"Come on Castle," Esposito prompted impatiently. "Give us the naughty details. What's it like with the infamous Kathryn Beckett?"

"Heaven."

"That's it? Heaven? You gotta give us something better than that!"

"Sharing is caring," Ryan added in accord.

"Is she into role-play? Little action with the cuffs... Bet she'd be—"

"Stop there," Castle cut in, surprisingly throwing out a random and rarely seen streak of maturity. "Kate Beckett is a woman with needs, and one of those needs is—"

"Regularity?"

"Dominance? Likes to be on top? I knew it! Forceful on the field and the bedroom aint she? Get some of that fire under the sheets."

"Actually," Castle replied smugly."I was referring to privacy, and the bedroom gentleman is yet to be graced."

Ryan's eyes widened instantaneously. "You're kidding!"

Castle distractedly moved forward, stepping toward the door with a brash grin from ear to ear. "Would I ever tell a lie?"

"Whatever," Esposito argued. "It's probably so great because you haven't been laid in months."

Castle stopped. "You doubt the capabilities of THAT woman?" He motioned to a certain detective and quickly turned back on his heel. "Well worth the wait gentlemen, well worth any wait."

"Now that's just cruel leaving us hangin! We're your bro's!"

He laughed, ignoring the comment and stepping into the corridor. "I would get fried. She'd find out within the hour."

"No she wouldn't."

Castle paused and spun around to face the boys directly. "This is Kate Beckett we are talking about. She has connections all over this place. I wouldn't walk out of here alive."

Esposito grinned. "Hey Castle!"

The writer paused on the other side of the door, gripping it hesitantly. "Yes?"

"Hurt her and you won't."

"No intention of doing so." He fixed a stern expression, glancing at the showdown through the glass before he suddenly grinned wider than the Cheshire cat. "I gotta do something. Be right back! I expect a full report if I miss the ending."

The door slowly swung shut and clicked loudly through the silence of the room, leaving the boys with nothing but a myriad of thoughts.

"What does he mean by connections?"

Esposito glanced at his partner. "Don't take any notice bro, it's just Castle talk."

"But seriously, you think anything we say gets back to Beckett?"

"Na... We'd be haulin our asses to desk duty for the term of our natural lives."

Kate stood steadfast against the cool glass of the mirror crossing her arms rigidly. She could feel the temperate chill leach through the material of her shirt and she welcomed it. For the moment it was refreshing, and somehow effectively soothing her temper each time it flared. She knew Amy wouldn't break easily but she was slowly tearing apart at the seams. Too slowly. The game had to be taken to an entirely new level but the probability of her temper snapping before she'd torn the designer to pieces was suddenly reaching an all time high.

"Stop lying to me."

"I'm not," Amy retorted defiantly. Maybe I'm just having a hard time remembering the facts after sitting in here for hours while the queen cop was tied up."

The detective fought the urge to hit her, hard. But not before a surge of unexpected memories slipped beneath the radar and invaded her trained concentration, mercilessly flooding into her mind. The cool sensation of metal slid down her back and a roaring heat tore through her before she suddenly realised - it was real.

Freaking Castle! All she had to do was think of him. She could be in a damn interrogation and have to suddenly tame a raging libido out of nowhere!

Kate hastily launched the indiscretions to the back of her mind, though unable to resist the confident smirk tugging at her lips as she stepped forward and swiftly took her seat.

She was tied up alright! In a tangle of limbs with Richard Castle rhythmically forcing himself inside her and GOD she wanted to rub it in her face! Castle didn't want a bimbo like Amy. She was his only inspiration. Kate Beckett. Not some Manhattan hussy that calls herself an interior decorator. He wanted her and only her, so Amy could shove that — Jesus! Kate quickly slammed her train of thought to a halt. When the hell did she get so possessive??

Amy's eyes narrowed, reacting so heavily to the smug expression it was as if she could read her thoughts.

"He said we had to keep it a secret."

"A secret?" Kate tipped her head, seconds from bursting out laughing. She was losing control but from the opposite end of the scale, and fast.

Amy scoffed, revealing a glimmer of what lurked beneath the naive act. "This is bullshit. I've had enough. You wanna joke about me? Be my guest, Nikki Heat."

Kate heard the chair dully graze across the floor, watching Amy for all of a second before she felt the blaze of fury claim control.

The detective shot up from her own chair, slamming the folder down on the desk and barring the way as Amy instantly jolted from the loud slap. She glared fiercely. "Sit down!"

"You can't hold me for anything because I didn't DO anything!" Amy stared at the detective, hesitating for a brief moment before she warily slumped back into her chair.

Kate stood, her jaw tightening as she studied the reflection of panic in Amy's eyes. Fear of being caught out.

"You didn't do it huh? Well tell me how it is barely anyone at the party seen you? It woulda taken you twenty mins tops to slip out and catch a cab to the club. All you needed to know was where he was gonna be. And you were there."

A flicker of panic shot across the designers eyes before her expression smoothed again, unnaturally calm. She remained stationary, inspecting her nails and smugly smiling. "You don't have anything."

The detectives hand dropped to the folder, sliding out a collection of documents and slapping them onto the desk consecutively.

"This is a witness statement of someone who seen you at the club that night."

"So? It could've easily been someone who looked like me."

"I think we both know it wasn't...THIS is a photo of the gun we found in a dumpster a few blocks from the park." Kate crossed her arms, moving to the double sided mirror and powerfully, arrogantly leaning against it as she spoke. She met her eyes directly. "The gun you so conveniently had hidden in your purse, isn't it?"

"No!"

"And THIS," Kate held a final photo up sharply, instantly causing Amy to jerk her head away to avoid witnessing the image.

"This is what you did with it."

"Stop it!"

She stepped forward, holding the photo definitively within Amy's sight before she tossed it onto the table toward the others. "What's the matter Amy? Can't handle seeing your own handiwork?" Her hands dropped to the table, gripping both edges as she leaned down directly into the designers view. "YOU followed him into the park that night, and you shot him in cold blood. Planned the whole thing."

Amy suddenly broke, crying so immediately, so furiously the detective was very near to being taken aback. But she ardently reminded herself it was little more than a staged performance.

Kate reclaimed her seat, leaning back and raising an eyebrow. "Cut the crap Amy."

She reached out, taking hold of a small box of tissues and tossing it to the opposite end of the table carelessly. No doubt placed there by an officer following Amy's previous performance. And honestly she couldn't have the slightest shred of empathy for the woman. It was moments like these she would loyally support the death penalty, not to mention the electric chair!

Kate even resisted the urge to slap her, hard, and though she hated the fact, patiently waiting for the flood gates to close became her safest alternate action.

A wave of relief flooded over the detective as the room fell into silence, with the resonance of Amy's tears finally subsiding to a faint sob. The designers face was dappled in red and a stream of liquefied mascara solidly stained her cheeks. She had completely and utterly screwed her makeup, for what? Nothing. Save a lot of freaking time if she just admitted it! But no, she wants to go about it the hard way... wrong fucking choice.

A further layer of cosmetics rubbed off as Amy dabbed at her cheeks derisorily, the very action drawing the detective to the satisfactorily wicked image of shoving the tissue down her throat. She couldn't stand the innocent act. Frankly, it made her sick. And what the hell was she doing with her face? Going for the marbled effect? Does she have any idea she looks like a freaking circus clown!?

She stared at the other woman, resorting to an immense scope of restraint for the sole purpose of not losing every last sense of decorum, and with it control.
Amy's eyes widened. "I didn't... you've got some personal vendetta against me. You're crazy!"

"You wanna question my hold on reality!? Cause from where I'm standin you're the one lookin at 30 years minimum. Murder, conspiracy to commit murder... premeditated crimes aren't taken lightly Amy. And I don't think there's a jury out there who wouldn't convict your deranged mind."

The imitation of fear fled her eyes in an instant, a glint of fury solidly replacing it. Kate could tell she'd struck a chord and she had every intention of playing her like a violin until she snapped every one of them, mercilessly. She wanted to see the designers true colours, a glimpse of the twisted soul she knew existed beneath the layers of foundation and false vision of a smile.

Amy scowled. "You're just a— "

"That must have made you angry," Kate cut her off briskly. "A woman like you, snagging someone rich and famous and he wants to keep you a secret?"

The corners of her mouth turned up in disgust. Not nearly enough for the average person to notice, but for a detective trained in reading every aspect of a person, it was impossible to miss.

"It was to avoid the paparazzi detective."

The last word rolled off her tongue as harshly as gravel, but Kate wasn't going to hold back. She followed on, undaunted.

"I have witnesses that place you at the club Allan was at the night of his murder. In fact the two of you were in an argument. So are you going to stop feeding me lie after lie?"

"Fine! I was there. I went there to confront him. Is it a crime to fight with your boyfriend??"

Kate frowned, leaning forward. "It is if it ends in murder. What was it about Amy?"

The designer glared wilfully. "I thought he was cheating on me alright!"

Holy shit! Had this woman lost all hold on reality!?

Kate stared incredulously. "We're going to pull out the cheating book now? Just stop lying Amy. I know everything."

"It's the truth!"

"And who would he be cheating with?"

"I don't know..." Her eyes met the detectives sharply, reflecting a fitting depiction of pure hatred. "You."

"Oh! It's me now?" What the hell is she on!??

"Well you are Nikki Heat aren't you?"

Kate felt a surge of fury burn through her at the name, tightening her jaw to contain it.

"You're screwing the famous author."

Too far. Too freakin far!

"Do you know what I think?" the detective interrupted starkly. "I think you've given me no reason to believe anything you say. You left the party that night with a gun hidden in your purse intending to kill him. Get rid of the problem you were facing. But let's be honest with each other." Kate leaned forward, placing a hand on the crime scene photos and sliding them back to the folder. "I know it wasn't because you were being lied to by your boyfriend." She tilted her head to steer a hard glare as her killer dropped her gaze to the floor. "No... you two were business partners."

It was the only thing that brought the pieces together.

Amy's eyes lifted for a split second and her lips twitched into a smirk.

Kate pushed harder with every intention of tearing her to pieces. Dousing her lies in kerosene and striking a match like no other. She was going to burn every one of her 'stories' to ashes. Because Kate Beckett was certain she had her main player in the game. She had her, and she'd be damned before she was gonna let her walk. Not with the threat she posed to Castle. To her. Amy was going down.

"You were business partners except something went sour between you two. What was it Amy? Did he wanna back out of the deal?"

"What deal?"

"The sick arrangement you had to steal Richard Castles identity." Kate frowned deeply, failing in the plight to keep her level of revulsion buried. "Except he was going to back out, after all of the planning, all of the hard work, and he was just going to take your dream from you because he didn't have the balls to follow through...You couldn't let that happen could you Amy? You had a reputation to uphold. A plan to finish, and he was disposable anyway. You could pay for any man to look like Castle. You didn't need him. He was holding you back..."

The detective smirked as Amy remained calm and collected, without a word. "Funny, isn't being a celebrity's wife kind of a step down from becoming one your self? You had the funds to make that happen, and it probably would have been a much more productive use of your time, seeing as your little plan never would have worked anyway..."

The blue of Amy's eyes flashed with hostility, though unable to resist taking heed to what brought failure to her doorstep. The one thing she couldn't stand. And the detective knew just how to play on that fear. Tear down her plan, piece by piece.

"What were you gonna do with his mother? And his daughter?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Clearly they would know he wasn't Castle, or did you magically make Trimby sound like Castle too? Act like him... You'd think family of all people would be able to tell. So what? They just conveniently disappear? Then of course if I remember correctly I was next on the list. A trained detective who carries a gun. Really? Seems to me like you didn't quite think it all through. Downside on being impulsive, and self centred. You forget the little things that could trip you up."

Amy remained silent, somehow burying the ever increasing rage.

"You'd have to kill my partners too," Kate continued. "And Gina, not to mention every reporter he's ever talked to. In reality, you'd have to wipe out half of New York to get away with it. And that puts him under a lot of suspicion if everyone around suddenly starts mysteriously disappearing. You'd be the wife of a murder suspect. That would do wonders for your social standing. You're right, that would make you very famous, at the very least it would be a lovely addition to your rap sheet. Right next to pathological liar and psychopath."

"That sounds insane."

"You're right. It does. How stupid did you think I'd be? What were you gonna do when Richard Castle suddenly can't write anymore?"

"Allan could write!'"

Got you bitch.

"You're lookin at life Amy. Did I mention Castles list of fans? There's my boss, his boss, the mayor... Even a judge. You'd be hoping he wasn't in charge of your case." She grinned, "I'm sure they would be more than happy to put you away for the term of your pathetic life."

Amy smirked darkly. "It's still circumstantial evidence. You've got nothing to go on."

"It is, for now. But we have the gun. We're testing it for prints." Kate leaned forward, "I'm betting you weren't smart enough to wear gloves. And the pitiful thing about killing someone, you get blood on you. So I'm also betting that when CSU are finished combing through your place they're gonna find the clothes you wore, right? What was it, Chanel? Even with his blood on it you wouldn't have been able to just throw it away. Labels are worth so much more than people."

The detective scoffed, laughter stumbling from her lips and even though she immediately got a hold of herself, it was too late.

"You bitch!" Amy shot up from her seat, slamming her hands on the table and leaning forward as Kate reclined back into hers, unaffected.

"Exactly how long have you been planning this Amy?"

"YOU ruined everything! It would have been easy to take him out if he hadn't have met you!"

"I take that as a long time." Kate stared calmly at the other woman, flicking her eyes to the double sided mirror, a signal for the boys to stay in their place. Even though she'd gained what she was digging for. The confession. Evidence. Proof to convict the bitch.

She lunged out of her chair, startling the detective from her thoughts and making a grab for her, though Kate yanked herself backwards in time. But not before she felt the blood red of her nails slash across the side of her neck.

Fucking psycho!

Kate rounded the table in an instant, forcing Amy's head to it and forcefully wrenching her arms back to snap on her cuffs, roughly.

"Shut up!"

Amy ignored the command, cursing a horde of obscenities as she fought the grip on her wrists.

Not so freaking innocent looking now...

Kate leaned down to her ear, her smugness fiercely escalating beyond a safe height as she spoke. "How does it feel to know I have everything you want?" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "He comes home to me."

"Of course," Amy countered, matching the detective's confidence. "Nikki Heat is his stripper slut."

"My name is Kate Beckett." The detective tightened her hold on Amy's wrists, forcing them up enough to satisfactorily gain a grimace of pain. "I am NOT Nikki Heat."

She paused, knowing the boys were a mere second away from bursting through the door and thankfully stopping her from committing murder. And she somehow had a feeling it would be all three of her boys. Not a great surprise knowing Castles track record for following orders.

"When it's official," Kate's voice flowed smoothly through the room, though she knew it was barely audible to the speaker system. "I'll be sure to send you an invite. Though you wouldn't be able to attend because you're going away for a long time." She launched into a strategic pause before saying her final words. "I've already got you for murder, you can peg assault on an officer of the law on top of that."

A flicker of panic shot across her eyes again, before quickly being replaced by anger. "You think you're high and mighty, and you act like nobody can touch you. But he'll get you."

Wait a minute! HE?? "Who is he Amy? God?"

She broke into a mocking laughter before meeting the detective's eyes. "You'll find out soon enough, Nikki."

Thats it! Kate moved a foot underneath Amy's chair, sweeping hers out from underneath her as she let go of her wrists and watched her fall forwards, gloriously slamming her face into the table.

She strode back to her side as Amy sat dazed for a moment. "I'll say it again. I'm NOT Nikki Heat."

Before Amy could retaliate the door suddenly swung open and all three partners piled into the room.

The two detectives stepped sternly toward the table, pulling Amy up roughly and shaking her from the haze of shock.

"She assaulted me! Did you see that?"

Esposito frowned as he hauled her to her feet. "Looked like self defence to me."

"I didn't see a thing," Ryan added subsequently.

Kate steered a frown toward Castle, failing at her insistence she was fine. He pointed out the trickle of blood on her neck and she could suddenly feel the warm slide of the liquid herself. What the hell did she mean?? She wasn't the ring leader of the operation? Shit. She silently hoped for it to be a bluff, but every fibre of her instinct told her this wasn't over.

Freaking gut feelings!

Castle shot a scowl toward Amy and she suddenly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He could be so cute sometimes.

He refocused on the group comically. "Now THAT is a prime example of what could happen when you have your legs crossed. Take note ladies." Kate raised an eyebrow and shook her head, swiftly passing through the group and out the door, longing for the sanctity of her desk.

Esposito shot a quizzical glance as he sharply spun Amy in front of him and forced her to step forward. Ryan could only frown as he followed.

Kate turned halfway across the precinct, calling out to the boys. "Don't forget to read her Miranda rights!" She spun back, striding toward her station as she mumbled quietly to herself. "Wouldn't want the bitch to get off from a simple mistake."

Castle shrugged complacently then grinned and headed in one direction, toward the outstanding Kate Beckett.

He took his usual seat beside her, grinning wildly. The detective glanced up from a document she was most certainly busying herself with for the sole purpose of avoiding the Castle ramifications. She knew there wasn't a chance he hadn't heard what she said, nor was there a chance he would drop it. What the hell had se opened up with Castle!? Or better yet, what the hell was she thinking even saying something like that!? She could only hope the tape wasn't rolling at that point. The boys had heard the confession, they should have turned it off... Fuck it. It'd just be another slip up for the backwards day it'd been! At this moment she was damn well surprised her career hadn't gone down the toilet yet!

Kate paused, reluctantly halting her thoughts to step back into reality, and Castle's grin said it all. She sighed heavily, dropping her pen and facing him. "What Castle?"

"You wanna marry me." He replied teasingly.

"Keep dreaming."

"You do. Don't deny it. I heard you say it to Amy in there..."

"So?"

"So, you're totally crazy about me, you wanna marry me and have Castle babies with me..."

Kate arched an eyebrow in response. "Are you kidding me Castle? We're at work."

"So?"

"Just drop it."

"You started it."

"Did not."

"Did too. You said it first."

"Really? You're going to do this here? Grow up a little Castle."

"Me grow up? You're the one who won't admit it."

"Zip it."

"Fine! But we're not done talking about this."

A wide grin spread across her face at the comment, and he smiled back, mixing a little mischief into his charm. "I know you want me."

Kate dropped her voice instantly, unable to resist replying. "Awfully sure of yourself there."

"If I asked you to marry me right now, got down on one knee," Castle moved, sliding from the chair and dropping to one knee. "Like this."

Her breath hitched. "Get up Castle, you're making a scene!"

"What would you say if I was asking you to marry me right now?"

"Get up!" Kate hissed, glancing around her as the officers began recognizing the gesture. "This isn't funny Castle. Get off your freaking knee!"

"Just answer the question."

She leaned forward, lowering her voice to a sharp whisper. "Castle, if you ever want to get into my pants again..."

"I'll take that risk," Castle replied boldly. "I wanna know."

"I'm not gonna tell you what I'd say Castle, because I don't know."

"Really? Shall we try it out then?" The writer lifted his hand, holding a ring between two fingers and ignoring the roar of voices echoing through the precinct. "Kate Beckett..."

Her eyes grew wide, and she could swear her breath had literally stopped. Oh god no! Don't do this Castle!

"You dropped your mothers ring."