"You lost your remote controlled car?"

"Yes."

"To a twelve year old?"

"Yes."

"Because you lost a game of Dance Dance Revolution?"

"Well, when you put it like that ..."

Katherine Beckett pinched the bridge of her nose and peered over her fingers at her husband, trying not to smile. Richard Castle grinned unabashedly at her from where he sat reclined next to her desk, right ankle crossed to rest on his left knee, foot jiggling a little.

She couldn't help herself. Joy tugged the corners of her lips up and Kate was forced to duck her head a little to hide it. She pretended to fossick for something in her desk drawer, pushing aside sheafs of paper and manila folders. It bought her enough time for Ryan and Esposito to appear and distract Castle.

"Yo, yo. What's this I hear about you losing a game of DDR?" Espo demanded, fixing Castle with an accusatory stare.

"In all fairness, Kenneth brought his A game," Castle replied.

"The kid was in a wheelchair, Castle," Kate reminded him, abandoning her fake drawer search in favour of watching him squirm. Ryan snorted.

"Excuse me, I don't know how much you know about wheelchairs, but -"

Kate's phone chirped then, cutting smoothly across Castle's obviously well prepared defense. She answered it just as the boys launched a debate about wheelchair sports.

"Yep. Okay. Got it." Kate hung up just as Castle entered the demonstrative phase of his argument. "BPD found a floater of ours," she announced. "They're sending a detective down to consult on the case with us."

All three gawped at her for a second, Castle balancing precariously on two legs of his chair. "BPD?" Ryan finally said.

"Yep," Kate replied, putting her boot on Castle's shoe to push him back down onto the ground. "Apparently they have a vic with traces of the Hudson on her. Someone by the name of Sara Darrah. From what they said on the phone the family has ties to Jimmy Conroy."

"Ahhh, Jimmy Conroy," Castle grinned. "Man was a Prohibition hero."

"Yeah, well he ended up a smuggling schmuck," Espo snorted derisively.

"Schmuck?" Castle replied incredulously, leaning forward in his seat. "Schmuck? He was a genius! I remember when they tried arresting him for possession during a showing of The New Yorkers on Broadway. He had a pound of Mary J in his coat jacket, but he gave it to his wife and told her to shove it in her -"

"Yes, well, all genius ideas aside," Kate interrupted, lips twitching in amusement, "they're sending a detective down this afternoon to consult. Ryan, we might need you to run point on this one. I'd bet my badge the Westies are involved."

"No problem," Ryan replied, pushing back his open suit jacket to shove his hands in his pockets. "I'll give my CIs a call once we know what we're looking at."

"Great. Castle and I will go pick the detective up at LaGuardia," she said, standing up and fishing for her keys in the mug by her desk. Castle rocketed up from his chair.

"Fine," he said, hiking his pants up with his thumbs. "But I have one condition."

"And what's that?" Kate asked, sliding her Glock into the holster at her hip.

Castle ripped his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and, with a practised and overly-theatrical flick of his wrist, wrapped them around his eyes.

"Shotgun."

"You didn't need to come, Maura," Jane reiterated for the fiftieth time as she watched Maura extricate herself with some difficulty from the cramped cattle class seat.

"And miss a chance to visit one of the greatest cities in the world?" Maura replied in shock. "Never."

Jane grinned. "Alright, well, it's bad enough I had to come. I don't want you feeling obligated to be here."

"Au contraire, I'm here for the case," Maura said, balancing unsteadily on her stilettos as she reached up to the overhead locker. Jane stepped up behind her and fished Maura's carry on out, pulling it down for her.

"Are you sure you're not just here for Broadway?" she asked, smirking knowingly as Maura took the Louis Vuitton from her.

"Absolutely not," Maura replied, shaking her head and raising her nose a little. "I am here in a purely professional capacity."

"And if you happen to catch a late night showing of Lez Miserables all the better, right?" Jane teased.

"It's pronounced Les Misérables,"Maura corrected. "And I've already purchased us tickets."

Jane faked a groan and Maura grinned as the crowd before them began to disembark. The flight to LaGuardia had been unremarkable beyond the fact Maura had declined a business class upgrade in favour of remaining with Jane in economy. She called it a "social experiment". Jane rued the fact she couldn't watch 2 Broke Girls in peace.

They stepped out into the arrivals hall together, looking less like friends and more like a socialite and her security. It didn't help that Jane kept her BPD badge blatantly visible to help clear the crowd, which parted like a shoal of fish as the two women moved towards a group of limo and taxi drivers brandishing named signs. There was no "Detective Jane Rizzoli" card, but Jane didn't need her police skills to know that the tall, thin woman and suited man near the door were there for her.

"Detective Rizzoli?" the woman asked in a clean Manhattan accent.

"That's me," Jane replied in her usual rasp, offering her hand to shake. "And this is my associate Maura Isles - Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

"Maura or Dr. Isles is fine," Maura replied.

"Please to meet you Detective. Dr. Isles," the woman replied, inclining her head to Maura as she took Jane's hand and shook it firmly. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett. This is Richard Castle, consultant to the 12th Precinct."

"Richard Castle? I love your work!" Maura exclaimed. "Storm Fall was a revelation."

Castle leapt forward and eagerly enveloped one of Maura's hands in both of his. "Please, please, call me Rick," he replied with an easy smile. "It's always such an honour to meet a fan. I must say -"

"Down, Castle," Detective Beckett drawled wearily. Jane assumed this sort of thing happened often as Castle instantly obeyed, still grinning at Maura. "Shall we, Detective?"

"Shotgun!" declared Castle, bounding ahead.