The challenge was to try to write a case...

Hope it worked. In the immortal words of Lanie Parish: "You tell me?" :)

The doors of the elevator opened. Following Beckett into the fifth floor corridor, a look of disgust formed on Castle's face as he looked at the yellow and brown stains coating the hallway carpet in the run-down apartment building.

"You'd think they'd clean the flooring once in a while," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, not everyone can live in a fourteen-million dollar loft in SoHo, Castle," Beckett smirked, passing the Uniform at the door as she entered apartment 506.

"Says the woman who won't give up her five-million dollar apartment in TriBeCa," Castle retorted as he followed her into the cramped living room.

Dr. Parish was crouching beside the body of a man, busy making notes about the naked, soaked corpse laying prostrate on the floor.

"Hey Lanie, what've we got?" the detective asked as she snapped a blue, latex glove onto her hand.

"Jack Armstrong. Thirty-two. Apparently, he was found in the tub by his girlfriend. Lack of water in the lungs indicates he was dead prior to being submerged. There's some faint bruising around the neck," the M.E. indicated with the tip of her pen, "so I'm thinking he was strangled. I'll be able to give you more once I get him back to the lab."

Looking down at the body, Beckett added, "Do we know when he was killed?"

"Based on lividity and the fact that the girlfriend said he was alive when she left for a business dinner a few hours ago, I'm placing the time of death between five and nine this evening. I'll try to narrow that down for you after I do a thorough exam."

"Thank you, Lanie," she nodded, turning her attention to Castle who was raising his hand as if he was in elementary school, wanting to ask a question. "What?"

"He's wearing an eye-patch."

"So?"

"Seriously? Kate… look at him! Our vic's a pirate!"

"Really, Castle?" she scoffed.

"I wonder if he was killed because of a battle over buried treasure..." the writer muttered to himself as he wandered over to the book shelves.

Beckett shook her head as Esposito approached.

"Yo Beckett... spoke to the girlfriend," he began, looking at his note pad. "It seems Captain Jack here had financial troubles."

"Captain Jack?" Beckett stated with a disapproving tone.

"What? He's wearing an eye-patch," the Latino retorted.

"Told you…" came Castle's sing-songy voice from the corner of the room as he picked up a small silver box off the shelf.

Opening the lid, the tinkling of muzak began to play. Everyone in the room turned their attention to watch the writer - who promptly closed the lid and quickly put the item back on the shelf. "Music box," he muttered sheepishly.

"Anyway…." Beckett prompted with a heavy sigh.

"Anyway," Espo continued, "he's been drifting from job to job for months. The girlfriend over there," he said pointing at the distraught young woman standing in the kitchen, "has been the main source of income for the couple for about five months now."

"What do we know about her?" Beckett inquired, eyeing the short, blonde woman.

"Emma Sparrow," Ryan answered, joining the team. "Thirty-one years old."

"Seriously?" Castle remarked joyfully as he approached the detectives. "Jack and Sparrow?! That's too awesome!"

He quickly schooled his features when Beckett flashed him a piercing glare.

"Ms. Sparrow works for Dugong Publishing as a marketing assistant," Ryan continued.

"Never heard of it," Castle remarked.

"Apparently they publish mostly nature books," Espo replied, flipping open one of the books that was sitting beside the couch. "You know, like coffee table picture books highlighting the weird and wonderful animals nobody has ever heard of-" he paused as he looked at one of the pages, "-like… gerenuks," he finished as he gazed inquisitively at the page in front of him.

"Oh, you mean those small, long-necked antelope that are native to Africa?" Castle began.

"Don't they stand on their hind-legs when they feed?" Ryan added, smirking slightly at his partner.

Espo opened his mouth to retaliate but quickly shut it as Beckett cleared her throat. The three men turned sheepishly to see the female detective eyes-narrowed, arms crossed against her chest.

"I think I'll just… uh… go canvass the neighbours," Espo stuttered, shoving the picture book into his partner's hands before heading to the door.

"And… um… I'm just gonna go… uh… over there…" Ryan stammered as he quickly deposited the book back on the end table and escaped toward the bedroom area.

Abandoned by the boys, Castle nervously locked eyes with his fiancé and muttered, "Gerenuks are endangered, you know."

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Come on, Castle. Let's take a look in the bathroom."

CSU had already done their sweep.

The bathroom itself was rather unimpressive. Shower-tub combination, single-sink vanity with a round, framed mirror above it. Three rolls of toilet paper were stacked in the stand beside the toilet. Nothing in the trash bin.

Castle pushed the shower curtain aside in order to have a look in the bathing area. The tub had been drained - liquid samples already collected by CSU.

"Hey Ryan!" Castle called out.

"Yeah," the Irish detective answered popping his head through the doorway.

"Did Armstrong have any kids?"

"Uhhhh…" Ryan took a moment to flip through his notes. "No. Why?"

"I know who the killer is," the author stated while bending down.

"You do?" Beckett replied, voice highlighting that she was both intrigued and skeptical.

"Isn't it obvious?" he remarked as he spun around. "Death by Duck!"

Beckett rolled her eyes after peering at the yellow bath toy in Castle's gloved hand. Ryan, on the other hand, appeared hungry to hear more as he nodded his head.

"It's 'Rise of the Rubber Ducks'," Castle began, the story-teller speaking in his most dramatic tone. "Tired of being squeezed constantly and forced to squeak against their will, the Ducks took their revenge against the humans! Haven't you seen Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?"

"Yeah," Ryan muttered, completely rapt. "A real cautionary tale…"

Beckett didn't even attempt to mask the long, indignant huff that escaped her mouth. "I feel like I'm in a bad sitcom," she muttered, leaving the bathroom.

Trinxy challenged me to write a fic involving a rubber duck and a pirate...

So there you go... Judge away. :P

xxxxx

I was originally planning to let this sit as a one-shot... but I think I might be able to string together a few more chapters. Just be patient with me. Real Life is keeping me extremely occupied at the moment.