Okay, so a lot of you know that this is a prompt from Tumblr (my homeplace) and it's VERY AU and VERY M (in the later chapters) so just be warned. And I'll do my best to keep them in character, but that's a challenge considering what they have to be here, but I'll give it my best shot. Enjoy!

Chapter One

The red carpet is probably the most dazzling and terrifying place one could ever have the misfortune of being. Because whether you're a starlet or somebody who works for a starlet, you constantly have people screaming at you, taking your picture, blinding you with their cameras, and just being an outright pain in the fucking ass.

Especially if you're the latter.

Kate forces a smile as she's helped out of her limousine by some faceless bodyguard—not her own; she would never, in a million years, even think about hiring some meathead to protect her. She was strong enough to protect herself.

And, despite Gina's constant badgering and worrying, nobody would ever dare hurt her. She was Kate Beckett—or Lola Banks, to her fans. Kate cringed inwardly as she heard them screaming the name at her.

"Lola! Lola, over here! Lola, I love you!"

She groans, remembering the day her mother had insisted she take up a pseudonym to keep away "the crazies" as she called them. Lola had been the first name that popped into her head and her mother had responded with Banks, as a natural progression, of course. Now she was stuck with the moniker, which had lost its appeal after about the first two months. It's been thirteen years now and she still can't be rid of it.

So she just smiles and waves and poses for pictures, the sparkly light blue number swishing around her knees as she struts down the carpet in her sky-high heels, dubbed the Lola pumps—this included any kind of heel of over four inches—her signature look.

Kate forces a smile as they shout the wrong name at her, with Gina right behind her to guide her down the carpet. She spots a friend of hers, Natalie Rhodes, just a couple feet in front of her. Well…not so much a friend as an acquaintance, and not so much an acquaintance as an enemy, though they fake being friends for the sake of the cameras.

Her forced smile grows even bigger as the two lock eyes and greet each other with warm hugs and a kiss on each cheek.

When Natalie leans in, she husks in her ear, "You workin' the pole tonight, Banks?"

"Mmhmm," Kate responds, through clenched teeth, "I'll be sure to say hello as I pass by your street corner." The girls turn and pose for photos, their arms around each other as they pretend to share a joke and laugh, before saying goodbye and moving on.

"Slut," Natalie hisses as Kate walks away.

"Whore," Kate responds, under her breath, but still keeping that dazzling smile.

"Play nice," Gina whispers to her, and Kate rolls her eyes, before grinning at the next camera.

"Please," she huffs under her breath.

People—and photographers—continue to scream her pseudonym at her as she continues down the carpet, moving as quickly as she can towards the entrance of the stadium where the award show—for which she is, thankfully, just an attendee, this year—is being hosted.

As she nears the entrance, however, she hears somebody scream her name—her real name.

"Kate!" they shout, barely audible over the myriad of sounds around them. "Kate Beckett!"

Kate turns just in time to see something flash, but not like a camera—more like a…

"GUN!" somebody shouts and Kate reacts, instantly, tugging Gina's hand as they fall to the ground together, just as there is a resounding gunshot heard and everybody follows their example.

Kate's breathing heavily as she looks up and sees all the people who'd been standing on the other side of the red velvet ropes lying on the floor, their faces twisted in shock and fear. In the middle of it all, she sees a security guard standing, with a few of his comrades around him, holding a smoking gun.

Kate thinks, for an instant, that he must be the original shooter, but then she sees the slumped figure in front of him, his face buried in the ground, blood pouring from a wound on his back and a gun at the end of a horribly twisted and unnaturally bent arm—a gun that is also smoking.

Kate glances around the carpet, looking towards the back wall for a bullet hole, but finding none. Then she sees it and she feels as if she's about to puke.

Natalie Rhodes—her friend/acquaintance/enemy—lying face up on the carpet, her eyes unseeing and a bullet wound between them, blood pooling over her beautiful face.

"Gina, I'm fine!" Kate snaps as Gina checks her over for any wounds, like a bullet hole is bound to appear at any second now. "The bullet didn't even come anywhere near me."

"I know, I know," Gina replies, worriedly, "but physical wounds aren't all I'm worried about. How are you, mentally? Emotionally?"

"It's funny that you mention that," she says, "because I have the sudden urge to go out and kill any and all cats I can find. Also, I have a wicked craving for human flesh; can you find me a baby or something to eat?" Gina stares at her, blankly. "I'm joking, Gina," Kate groans, rolling her eyes. "Really, I'm fine. Just a little shaken, is all. But I'll be okay."

"Okay?" Gina repeats. "Okay?! Somebody tried to shoot you, Kate! And they ended up hitting your best friend instead!"

"Natalie is not my best friend!" Kate replied. "Far from it, in fact; I hated her. You know that!"

"That still doesn't make it any better!" Gina responds. "Somebody tried to kill you and they ended up killing an innocent girl instead."

"Oh, I highly doubt Natalie was innocent," Kate mutters, as she starts pulling her pajamas out of her dresser drawers. The awards show had been, understandably, cancelled and police were now sweeping the area for anything they may have missed, as well as frisking all of the paparazzi at the carpet. Natalie's body had been moved to OCME, where it was to be autopsied, even though everybody knew the COD already.

Now, Kate and Gina sat in Kate's room in her rented Beverly Hills villa. Kate had been all too happy to return to the small home, especially after what had just happened. She'd toed her pumps off the second she stepped in and practically ran to the bedroom, with Gina, her publicist, right on her heels.

Now, as she changes from the Lanie Parish original—designed by her real best friend, a high-end fashion designer—in a pair of blue cotton PJ's and argyle socks, Gina berates her about her comment.

"Katherine Beckett!" she admonishes, so much like a mother sometimes. "That was very disrespectful!"

"Like you're an authority on respect?" Kate snarks. "Where's the Gina I know and can barely tolerate? The one who called Natalie a gold-digging hussy just last week?"

"Well that Gina seems to have come down with a severe case of PTSD from the fact that the very same starlet has been killed, not five feet from where Gina's own starlet was standing!"

"Not to mention that they were aiming for said, starlet," Kate teases, as she dunks her head into her generously-sized bathroom sink and lathers shampoo and conditioner in to help get the sticky hairspray out (she'll take a shower tomorrow).

"Exactly!" Gina exclaims. "Now do you believe you need a bodyguard? Or are you still so sure you can take care of yourself?"

"The latter," Kate replies. "And apparently I can take care of you, too. You still haven't thanked me for that, by the way."

"And now I don't think I will," Gina replies, stubbornly. "Not if you're going to be so pigheaded about this whole bodyguard thing."

"G," Kate sighs, "I have three black belts, a handgun that can fit in most of my handbags, and enough mace to blind all of LA; I'll be fine."

"Your ability to hurt an attacker is not my issue here, Kate," Gina replies. "It's the fact that you don't have the armor to keep yourself from getting shot out there, like Natalie. How are you going to protect yourself from that?"

"I did pretty well tonight, didn't I?" Kate replies, smartly.

"But somebody yelled gun," Gina groans. "That's not going to happen all the time. And what if they use a bomb or something else explosive like that? Then what are you going to do?"

"Get a bomb-sniffing dog?" Kate suggests. "Better company than a lousy meathead."

Gina groans. "No," she says, "that's it; I'm hiring you a bodyguard. No arguing," she says as Kate opens her mouth, "I've already decided. I even know the perfect guy."

"Fine," Kate sighs, "but I get to talk to him before you make the hire, and if I don't like him…"

"He's gone," Gina promises, as she dials a number and presses the phone to her ear. "Hello?" she says, into it. "Hi, I need to speak to Richard Castle, please? Yes, I'll hold."

Kate rolls her eyes. Richard Castle; sounds like a douche bag, already.

So….what do you think? REVIEW please.