Sunnydale, December 2002
Richard Castle - Rick to his friends - hadn't expected the Hellmouth to look so… normal. Suburban. There was no gothic architecture looming over narrow alleys, no ubiquitous shadows and mists hiding monsters, no general atmosphere of danger and violence. Instead, Sunnydale looked like the stereotypical Californian town. Sunny, open, filled with tanned, health-conscious people. Buffy Summers had to be a miracle worker to keep the hellmouth in check so it didn't corrupt the town.
Well, there were less people on the streets than he'd expected that time of the day - but then, it was a lot hotter outside than in New York. Sane people would stay indoors. Not that Californians were sane by East Coast standards.
"What's the address again?" Rick asked while stopping to let a hot jogger cross the street.
"1630 Revello Drive. Take the next turn left." Mary answered, splitting her attention between the map on her knees and the town.
Rick nodded, not bothering to answer verbally. After two days on the road filled with planning, ranting, and arguing, both had spent the rest of the drive in silence, even when they stopped to eat, or to shower and rest a few hours in a motel. He had wanted to fly - charter a private jet, even - but with both of them hunted by the First, and with Mary connected to the London bombing, they'd not have gotten far at any airport. And the Ack Pack currently resting in the trunk would have led to awkward questions from any authority.
He checked his appearance in the rear view mirror, ignoring the frown on his ex-wife's face. He had a reputation as a handsome, rich playboy to maintain. It wouldn't do to arrive too rumpled. At least he had been able to shower and shave that morning, though a bit of stubble might have made him look more like the experienced vampire hunter (retired) he was.
He drove the M3 Coupé into the driveway of the house and cut the engine. For the Slayer's residence, it looked deceptively harmless. No high fence around the area, and the walls looked rather flimsy. Once outside his air conditioned car, the heat quickly started to get to him. His stylish leather jacket with the hidden loops and sheaths for stakes and blades and vials of holy water was more appropriate for London's fog than California's sun. Mary of course didn't look as if the heat affected her; she wore her long coat and sour expression as if she had just returned from another boring Council meeting.
He pushed the doorbell, then waited. After half a minute, the curtain behind the window on the left side moved, and he could see part of a face peering out. Then the door opened, and Rick came face to face with Buffy Summers. Lothos, the Master, Darla, Angelus, Kakistos, Spike, Dracula himself - she had faced the most powerful vampires and had defeated them all. She was a legend. She was an inspiration to every vampire hunter. She was… about 5 feet tall, and thin like a fashion model.
"Buffy Summers?" He couldn't quite keep the surprise out of his voice.
"Who are you?" The girl narrowed her eyes, and he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, despite the heat. Her right side and arm was hidden behind the half-opened door. No doubt she held a weapon there, ready to kill him in a split second.
He quickly put on his best, most charming smile. "I am Richard Castle, Watcher. This is Mary Wilkinson, also a Watcher. We're here to help." He hoped Mary managed to smile instead of frown.
The blonde didn't move, didn't look away, she simply yelled "GILES! We've got visitors!"
Wait, Giles?
"Buffy, there was no need to yell, I was already on the way… dear Lord! Richard! Mary! You're alive!" Rupert arrived behind the Slayer, adjusting his glasses. There was more grey in his hair, he had more lines in his face, but otherwise he could have stepped out of the Council library 10 years ago. Behind him, a gaggle of girls was hanging back.
"You know them, Giles?" The Slayer was still giving them looks full of suspicion.
"Yes, Buffy. They were colleagues of mine, back in London." Rupert smiled at the girl, probably as he'd smile at any dangerous predator, Rick thought.
"Great. We're invaded by the English. Soon Starbucks will go out of business, replaced by teabucks. And where will I get my coffee-fix then?" Buffy pouted, but stepped back and opened the door all the way. As expected, she had a stake in hand, a rather warped thing, too.
"I am actually American," Rick corrected her as he stepped inside following Mary, "I just spent a decade in London."
"You don't sound American. Oh my god, English is contagious!" Buffy gasped. Had Rick really slipped back into the accent he had picked up in his years in England?
Rupert's smile grew forced. "We could only wish English was contagious. You might stop mangling our language if that was the case." The Watcher and the Slayer stared at each other for a second before the girl pouted and closed the door.
"Please excuse Buffy," one of the other girls smiled at Rick, "my sister is ... oh my god! You're Richard Castle!"
"Yes, Dawn, he said that." Buffy glared at the girl.
"He's a famous author!" Dawn, as the girl was apparently called, stared at Rick with an expression of awe he'd have loved if she was, say, 10 years older, and not the Slayer's sister. "Willow! Castle is in our house!" She had a set of lungs like her sister too.
Rupert looked confused, Mary looked annoyed, and the Slayer looked lost. As first impressions went, this was one of Rick's better ones.
*****
"I've actually been a Watcher for about ten years. I quit the Council in 2000 and became a full-time author and father," Richard explained a bit later while sitting in the Slayer's living room. Which looked far too normal, in his opinion. If he ever wrote a book about this, he'd have to change things. Maybe add some weird hunting trophies and weapons to the walls. Older furniture, sturdier. More chests. He'd keep the Californian fashion worn by the girls though.
Rupert was polishing his glasses. He hadn't taken the revelation that Rick had made a fortune by using the Watcher journals as inspiration that well. The girls, especially that redhead and the Slayer's sister, were very impressed though. And the young man, Xander, seemed to be very amused. Probably at Rupert's expense.
"Wow. That explains why the 'Vampire Hunter' series is so good. I should have noticed that the descriptions of the vampires and demons were completely correct! But… does that mean that those past Watchers all had affairs with their Slayers? I mean, in every book, there's this love story as well, very romantic, even if it's a tad biased since there's no lesbian couples, but then again, there was that story with the female Watcher, but since we know that most Slayers die so young, that makes all those love stories very tragic in hindsight. Oh my god, I will have to reevaluate my whole opinion of those books!" The redhead babbled, then stared at Buffy and Giles.
"What?" the Slayer looked again confused, then her eyes widened. "No way! Me and Giles? Eww! He slept with mom! On the hood of a police patrol car! With handcuffs!"
"Giles! Oh my god!" Dawn looked shocked.
"G-Man! Way to go!" Xander exclaimed, then cringed when the Slayer and her sister glared at him.
"Buffy! I explained to you that both of us were under the influence of a mind-altering substance in those chocolates! I certainly would have never done anything like this otherwise!" Rupert huffed at the Slayer, then glared at the kids staring at him.
"Does that mean mom wasn't good enough for you without doing drugs?" Buffy scowled at the Watcher.
"What? I most certainly didn't mean that! Joyce was one of the most impressive women I knew."
"You can be my step-dad anytime," Dawn Summers cut in. "At least you're around most of the time, unlike our real dad." She perked up. "I'd need a bigger allowance, of course!" When the older man glared at her, she giggled.
Rick glanced at Mary while Rupert tried to defend his reputation. His ex-wife looked shocked, well, it was understandable. Rick was a bit shocked himself.
This was humanity's best hope for survival? The world was doomed!
*****
After things had calmed down, the talk returned to what might pass for a strategy session if one was a Californian teenager. Rick wondered if what he was feeling now was how Travers had felt when talking with him. And he wondered how Rupert was still sane - the man had spent years here, and he was born British!
"So… if I got this right, you're an author who moonlighted as a Watcher librarian. And your ex-wife is a Watcher librarian." Buffy Summers was pacing in front of the couch Rick was sitting on with Mary, while the rest of the house's occupants were sprawled around the living room, mostly on the floor. "We already have an ex-Watcher ex-librarian." She pointed at Rupert, who coughed. "What exactly can you do, other than writing books about old men seducing poor young Slayers?" More coughing from Rupert followed. "I doubt we can beat the First by feeding her novels. That might have worked with Glory, though."
"Well, it's not as if we are only librarians," Rick answered, before Mary's indignation could overcome her shock and his ex-wife could start a confrontation with the Slayer who had sent Travers packing, "both of us regularly hunted vampires in our spare time in London."
"Dear Lord!" Rupert sounded surprised - he really didn't know Mary well - but the rest looked impressed.
"We left our weapons in the car. People tend to get nervous when they see a flamethrower." Rick's remark caused an instant change in the Slayer's attitude.
"You've got a flamethrower? Can I see it?" For a feared veteran Slayer, Buffy's puppy dog eyes were remarkably effective. Of course, knowing that she could rip him limb from limb if she wanted to helped her persuasiveness a lot.
"Of course. We can buy one for you too, if you want. That's the other thing I bring to the table, apart from my ruggedly handsome looks and my experience: I am rich. Money can solve a lot of problems."
The expression on the Slayer's face suddenly changed and Rich felt as if he was a piece of meat in front of a hungry tiger. And not the in the good, kinky sense. Next to him, Mary was covering her face, across from him Rupert was polishing his glasses, and everyone else was smiling far too eagerly at him.
Maybe his mother was right, and Rick really didn't learn from his mistakes.
