"Aw, man. What a mess." The tall black man wrinkled his nose at the sight that met him and his partner.

"Just try not to step in anything," said his partner, a tough-looking older white man with eyebrows firmly fixed in the "scowl" position.

Both subjects were sprawled on the floor, hands clasped, blood staining their clothes and the floor. The female subject appeared to be unconscious; the male's gaze rolled in the direction of the voices of the men entering his loft.

"Beckett," he said hoarsely. "Been shot. Get help."

Kay bent over the man. "We know," he said, not unkindly. "We're gonna fix you right up, both of you."

"Kate - help her first."

"My partner's on it," said Kay. "Jay?"

"Marie's on her way," said the younger man, kneeling close to the female.

"What do we got?" came a female voice from the doorway.

"Gunshot wounds, one for the man, two for the woman," Kay reported. "Hers are more serious, but his are nothing to sneeze at."

"Nothing to - " The female voice made a noise which, in any universe, would indicate derision. "Human metaphors. Oy vey."

The newcomer came to float about twelve inches above the body of the woman. "Still breathing," was the observation. "Okay, one of these wounds is critical. The other is messy, but missed anything vital."

"Prognosis?" asked Kay briskly.

"Good. What about him?" The floating being pulled out a cube-shaped instrument and set it very carefully on top of the woman's jacket, directly over the worse of the two injuries.

The man was still conscious; his eyes were wide, anxious, and more than a little - curious?

"Is she - " he began.

"Gonna be fine," said Jay, watching the medic as she tapped some settings on the cube. "Any chance I could - "

"No," said the medic without looking up.

"But I just want to - "

"No. Nyet. Nein. I can say it in every language known to your species. In any language, it's still - " and she emitted an extremely negative sound that made all three conscious humans flinch.

"Who are you?" asked the man on the floor faintly.

"Agent Westfield sent us," said Kay, applying pressure to the man's wound.

"From the Subarao case?"

The two other men exchanged a look. Jay remarked, "Good memory for a guy with a hole in his chest."

"We got a tip from him to keep an eye on this location," Kay went on. "Sorry we didn't get here in time to stop what's-his-name over there. You'll have a great story to tell your kids, though."

"Oh, my God. Oh. My. God," said a new voice. Yet another man leaned over Kay's shoulder with a horrified expression.

"What the hell," the victim began, then caught his breath in pain.

"Doyle, what are you doing here?" Kay demanded.

"You're late," said Jay from across the kitchen.

"I don't understand," the onlooker moaned. "They said this date, this location. I didn't have a time, so I winged it. Shoot. They got home faster than I expected."

"Doyle," said the medic with a sigh. "They're both going to be all right. Skip forward a bit and you'll see."

"Just stay out of our way, for now," said Kay. "You can't do anything here."

"Doyle" checked a device in his hand. "Three kids, senator, etc. etc. Whew. Looks like the time line is still intact. Thanks, guys, and Marie."

The medic, whose name was obviously Marie, nodded absently. Doyle disappeared, leaving the male victim gasping and Kay shaking his head.

"Don't worry about him," he told the man. "You won't remember any of this, anyway."

"But I know him," the man muttered. "Doyle - Simon Doyle - from the future."

All three visitors exchanged a look.

"That one's going to take some neuralyzing," said Marie. "Remember Laurel Weaver? Some of them have really solid memories."

"Holy sh - " the victim gasped. "You're MiB. Damn. Are you here to save Kate?"

"We're here for both of you, Castle," said Marie. Apparently satisfied with Kate's condition, she floated over to peer at the man and her instrument in turn. "Okay, he'll do with standard human emergency and surgical care."

"Kate - "

"Is going to take more work, but she's stable. I've fixed the worst of it, and she's out of danger."

The female victim - Kate - was still unconscious. The male - Castle - looked at her anxiously, her hand still firmly in his, and asked, "Are you sure? She doesn't look any better..."

"I could restore her completely," said Marie dryly, "but that would raise more questions with your people than even you, with your imagination, could answer."

"Marie's the best," Jay told him. "If she says your wife'll be fine, she will be."

"My wife - how do you know us?"

"Enough chit chat," Kay interrupted. "I hear sirens."

"EMS just pulled up," said Marie, looking out the window. "Gotta fly."

And she did, so quickly that no one noticed which way she went.

The man named Castle spoke, his eyes still on his wife. "She's never gonna believe this. The one time it really happens, and she's out cold. What can I tell her?"

"Nothing," Kay replied, sounding almost cheerful, as he donned a pair of dark sunglasses. He drew a device from his pocket that looked like a silver-plated cigar. "Look over here, Mr. Castle."

When Castle looked into the red light on the device, his eyes glazed over. Kay went on, "The intruder shot you and your wife, your wife killed him, and you both lost consciousness. Go to sleep, Mr. Castle."

The man's eyes closed and his body went slack, still alive, but now unconscious and (Kay hoped) oblivious.

"I hope that takes," said Jay as he and Kay slipped out of the loft, closing the door and heading down the emergency stairs.

"Even if he does remember, nobody'll believe him. We got the job done without him guessing the truth, which would have required more advanced memory adjustment."

"Nice misdirection there," said J. "Zed'd kill us if Castle found out his daughter works for us."